#they finished like a solid 30 seconds after everyone else

[sapphia]

surprisingly i haven’t seen tumblr talking about this, but shout out to the australian professor in the breakdancing event with zero professional breaking skills and a million percent passion and enthusiasm for the sport. fuck the prepubescent near-adult ballerinas and the crying gymnasts and the swimmers poisoned in the seine. this is what the olympics should be about. a white middle-aged lecturer performing a move called “the kangaroo” while the world watches on in fascinated horror

[trashpandato]

Lunge and Parry

Just a short little thing that was inspired by this Tweet

---

Lena is thrilled. Thrilled and sweaty.

She hasn’t had to be on her toes this much against an opponent in a long time and she’s enjoying every second of it. It’s not a big surprise; this is the championship bout after all, so the woman currently advancing on her would have had to win against top notch fencers in the tournament to get to this point. 

Lena isn’t very familiar with her. Kara Danvers is her name and as far as Lena knows, she hasn’t been fencing competitively for very long, or else their paths would surely have crossed a few times already. The world of fencing is small, and even smaller once you get to the level where they are at, competing for one of the few remaining spots on the Olympic fencing team.

Either way, Lena isn’t about to let some newbie beat her. She’s worked too hard for this, and Lillian likes to remind her of that every chance she gets, like now, when she yells at Lena from the sidelines while Lena works to parry Kara’s current attack.

“That was pathetic,” she hears her mother scoff. “I’ve paid your coaches thousands of dollars and this is the best you can manage?”

Lena tries to tune her out as she bounces backwards on her feet. Kara’s fencing style is aggressive. It’s effective, the score is close, but Lena sees that Kara is a little bit reckless at times, and she’s been scoring points off defensive moves more than she usually does in her bouts.

It works. She’s up 12-9 and there are less than 30 seconds left. Lena figures she can goad Kara into one or two more lunges and either avoid contact or score her own points off a defensive thrust. It’s an uphill battle for her opponent, and Kara is likely to go all in on her offense in an attempt to even up the score.

It’s a solid strategy, defend her lead and win. But then, as she takes a quick step back in the wake of Kara lunging at her, Lena’s right knee buckles. She hears a pop and loses her balance. As soon as her back hits the piste, Lena feels excruciating pain shoot up her leg, and she knows immediately that it’s bad. 

Then a few things happen all at once. Lena focusses on her breathing and on trying to muffle the sounds she is making. She doesn’t want to cry, not here, not in front of everyone, but the pain in her leg is beyond anything she’s ever felt before, and she can’t help but let out small whimpers as she tries to roll onto her side. Then, her coach is there, helping her pull her helmet off. He is asking her questions that barely register, and Lena tries to hold in a yelp when he touches her leg. But the thing that captures most of her attention is her opponent, Kara, who is kneeling down next to her with a deeply concerned frown on her face.

“Get up,” Lillian hisses from somewhere behind Lena. “Luthors aren’t quitters.”

Lena clenches her jaw. She doesn’t really see the point of trying to finish the bout. Even if she is able to get up and stand, she knows she can’t fence properly with her knee in its current state. There are still 20 seconds left and Kara would have no problem scoring enough points to win. If she stays down and forfeits, Kara wins, too. Either way, it’s over for Lena.

“Do you think you can continue?” Her coach asks.

As much as Lena wants to yell no and tell both him and Lillian to fuck off, she knows she’ll never hear the end of it if she gives up now. Lillian is going to spend the next twenty years reminding her that she’s a disgrace to the Luthor name, too weak, too soft. Maybe she can try and hobble on one leg for 20 seconds and maybe, just maybe it’ll be enough.

Lena nods. She’s not sure she can speak at this point, so she sticks to glaring at her mother and shifting around a bit to let her coach hook his arm under her right shoulder to help her up. When she wobbles immediately, Lena feels a second set of hands on her. Her head snaps around and she’s met with a very close-up view of blonde hair, tan skin and vibrant blue eyes.

“Careful,” Kara says as she helps Lena to her feet and lets her lean against her for balance for a few seconds.

It’s only when Kara is sure that Lena can stand on her own that she lets go, and Lena immediately misses how steady her hands felt on her body. They lock eyes and Kara asks:

“You sure you want to finish the bout?”

Lena isn’t sure. She can’t put any of her weight on her right leg at all, and the throbbing pain is so distracting that she completely misses her coach’s instructions for what to do now. But she nods anyway. She doesn’t think she has much of a choice. She’ll try to stay upright and maybe, with some luck, she can stay out of the way of Kara’s attacks long enough to maintain her lead. It’s 20 seconds. All she has to do is get through 20 seconds.

Kara nods back at Lena and then, just before she slips her helmet back on, Lena thinks she spots a small smile on her opponent’s face. Her stomach sinks. Kara isn’t stupid. She’s a talented fencer. She’ll know how to outmaneuver a severely limited Lena with ease to score enough points to win three times over. And that smile on Kara’s face tells Lena all she needs to know. Kara is probably already planning her victory celebration.

Lena sighs, puts her helmet on and hobbles into position. She can barely move. Anytime she jostles her right leg by hopping around on her left, the pain shooting up and down her body makes her feel dizzy. Even just keeping her balance enough to stay upright seems like an impossible challenge.

The referee tells them to get ready and Lena lifts her foil and her chin, and tries to drown out the run-on commentary coming from her mother. She knows she’s going to lose, but she can at least try and keep her pride intact. 

“Allez,” the referee tells them and Lena hobbles backwards to put distance between herself and Kara. Her main strategy now is to stay out of her way as much as possible.

Kara, as she has done throughout the bout, bounces on her feet and gets into position to lunge. Lena braces herself for the attack but then Kara simply bounces backwards, toward her end of the piste. Lena is confused. It could very well be a set up for a running attack, one where Kara needs more space to generate momentum, but it’s not something she’s seen Kara do before. Still, she tries to set her feet as much as possible to give herself a chance to dodge whatever move Kara has planned.

But nothing happens. Kara continues to bounce on her feet far away from Lena. Her foil is up and ready but it doesn’t look like she’s going to approach at all. Lena can hear Lillian’s voice, biting and loud as always, but she can’t hear what her mother is saying. She is too focussed on Kara and the fact that she’s not attacking at all.

And then the buzzer signals that time’s up, that the bout is over.

Lena moves towards Kara. She’s on autopilot, hobbling two steps but before she can even reach the middle of the piste to shake her opponent's hand, Kara is there, pulling her into a hug that Lena knows is meant to be congratulatory but ends up feeling more like something else. Kara is a bit taller than her, her shoulders broader, and in that moment, Lena feels cocooned and safe even as her thoughts oscillate between confusion, elation and irritation.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lena snaps.

They’re still hugging and Lena doesn’t intend to let go anytime soon, but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

She feels more than hears Kara chuckle. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have let me win.”

Lena expects Kara to pull away, to tell her to go fuck herself. It’s what she would do if their roles were reversed. Instead, Kara only hugs her more tightly and even presses a soft kiss to Lena’s forehead before she pulls back a little to look at her.

“You won fair and square,” Kara tells her with a smile on her face before pulling Lena back against her body, one hand gently cradling the back of Lena’s head.

The whole moment feels like an out-of-body experience to Lena. They’re competitors who barely know each other, and here she is in Kara’s arms like they’re best friends. Kara even kissed her fucking forehead. A part of Lena wants to pull away and ask her what the hell her deal is, but something about this moment feels too good to fight it. 

So Lena doesn’t.

“Will you let me buy you a drink,” Lena asks and her voice is muffled because her face is still pressed against Kara’s shoulder. “To make it up to you.”

There’s another chuckle and then Kara takes a careful step back but holds Lena up with firm hands on her upper arms.

“Let’s get your knee sorted out first, okay?”

And just like that the spell between them is broken. Lena sees her coach approach her, and somewhere behind him are two EMTs who are pushing a wheelchair towards her. Lillian is there, too, of course, barking instructions at the EMTs to take Lena to Lakeview Hospital, even though that’s on the other side of the city, but Lena knows the Luthors have connections to several surgeons there.

In the flurry of activities around her, Kara disappears out of view as soon as Lena is helped into the wheelchair. Lena is sure she won’t see her again, at least not for a while. Fencing will likely be out of the question for a few months until her injury heals, and that’s pretty much all she knows about Kara, that she is a fencer. As she is pushed out of the building and into the back of the waiting ambulance, the door closes with a loud bang. Lena tries not to cry.

Lillian’s connections and large donations to the hospital mean that Lena heads into surgery that very same evening. Both her ACL and MCL are shot, and while the surgeon manages to repair both, he tells her that recovery will take many months and a lot of hard work. It’s not something Lillian likes to hear.

“She can’t miss that much time. She’ll have to prepare for the Olympics.”

The drugs in Lena’s system allow her to doze off during the argument between her surgeon and Lillian that follows. 

When Lena wakes up the following morning, Lillian is gone and Lena is thankful. The nurse tells her that her mother had to take care of some business matters but would return after lunch, and Lena can’t help but hope that Lillian might stay away longer. Her hopes are dashed when she hears a small knock, but when she looks up, it’s not Lillian who is hovering in the doorway. 

It’s Kara.

“Hey.” 

Kara is holding a large bouquet of flowers and is sporting that same small smile that Lena saw the day before just as they were about to finish their bout.

“You came,” Lena says, her voice still a little drowsy from sleep and the pain medication. 

Kara grins and pushes off the doorframe. Lena watches as she comes closer and deposits the flowers into a pitcher of water that’s sitting on the small table next to her bed. She’s pretty sure the water was meant for her to drink, but she feels too mesmerized to say anything to Kara, who is now standing right next to her bed.

“I did. Is that alright?”

Lena’s eyes drift towards where Kara’s hip is leaning against her bed and without thinking, she shifts her hand and reaches out to touch Kara’s, loosely letting her fingers curl around a warm, soft palm.

“More than alright,” Lena manages to say even as her eyelids droop.

Kara laces their fingers together and squeezes.

“You should rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. I need you to be rested and lucid when I ask you for your number later.”

“Mhm,” Lena mumbles, barely awake. “I believe I asked you out first.”

That prompts a proper laugh, a sound that sends pleasant shivers down Lena’s spine.

“You did. You win.”

[foxy-llama-mama]

for anyone wondering, i saw the les mis us tour last night in DC and it. was. CRAZY. i’ve seen the tour a few times in my life and i noticed some new things so here we go:

~~ spoilers ~~

- petit gervais was actually shown in the prologue when JVJ gets out of jail, he has some line like “but monsieur!” before being shooed away

- batambois actually hits fantine with his cane, knocks her down, and kicks her multiple times before she reaches up and scratches his face (i feel like i usually see him grab her arm or something instead of actually hitting her?)

- the other lovely ladies whores are all freaking out and trying to protect fantine from batambois and the pimp men people are actively holding them back and letting him hit her

- JVJ and javert have the gayest little moment of holding a handshake before “forgive me sir i would not dare” for a solid 30 seconds

- fantine shoots up and hugs JVJ in the line before she dies and stays there until he lays her dead body back down

- mme. thenardier was just so wonderful. i loved her

- gavroche has this entire moment with javert after the robbery, yelling “yeah! clear the streets! that means you too!” (said to a cop), and when the only two people left on stage are him and javert, he completely squares up to him and then salutes and it’s a really sweet moment. it also makes little people so much more impactful because they actually recognize each other then

- enjolras has a visceral reaction to eponine and marius speaking and he hasn’t even met cosette yet. enj turns to speak to marius and sees him talking to ep and throws his hands up in the air like, SO frustrated because MARIUS THE REVOLUTION IS COMING.

- red and black is BEAUTIFUL. the entire ensemble respects enjolras so much and it’s very obvious. “marius, you’re late” is not sung and so deadpan and so enjolras.

- R gives gav his bottle after javert’s arrival and it’s really funny

- grantaire does not take his eyes off of enjolras until drink with me. at all.

-when eponine dies, gavroche turns suddenly and sees her dying and grantaire SHOOTS up and grabs him and sits in the corner with him. it’s beautiful

- R does not touch a gun at all for the entire show. whenever anyone starts shooting, he hides behind the barricade or he grabs javert in custody but he never fights at all

- when gav dies, R throws a goddamn fit and does not leave his body until enjolras is about to be shot.

- when enj dies, he climbs up the barricade and is backlit and R is sitting at the bottom of the barricade reaching upwards, and when enj is shot, he falls backwards off of the barricade and out of sight. when this happens, R climbs the barricade with no gun, just enough so his head is exposed, and gets shot and slides down the barricade. it’s very “no one loves the light like a blind man”

- when javert is picking through the bodies looking for JVJ, another officer is wheeling a cart for dead bodies, and it ONLY has enjolras in it, hanging upside down just like aaronjolras in the window. javert heaves gav’s body on top of his and wheels them both off. (i heard multiple audible gasps during this, assumedly from the other enjolras girlies like myself)

- enj and R are beside each other for empty chairs until they cross and they’re directly facing each other instead

-during the wedding song, the line “this one’s a queer, but what can you do” is changed to “this one’s a queer, i might try it too” before thenardier waltzes with a male ensemble member for like 4 bars before finishing the song

- there is a lot of rich people laughing as a bit and thenardier cues to the conductor and counts them off like 3 separate times

- the finale is beautiful as always, JVJ and the dead bishop hug before everyone just lines up in formation (R and enj are both holding one of gav’s hands on either side)

- in conclusion: i cried

If anyone else has seen the tour and would like to add little things they noticed, please do in the tags!!

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

half truths pt. 1

Izogie x Nanisca 

Izogie didn’t die before the end battle - at least not all the way. She has come back home to the palace, but Nanisca knows she isn’t all there. Nanisca knows everything - almost. There’s a lot of things both of them haven’t admitted, but one seems to be taking a step towards vulnerability while one seems to be fighting some internal conflicts. Izogie is still a badass, though. 

Mother/Daughter vibes underneath Commander/Lieutenant pairing. There’s a lot of respect, but there’s also a lot of love.

content warnings: mentions of wounds/scars, enslavement/enslavers, war/battle, weapons, body parts/physical training. (no fluff or smut stuff yet but it’s only part one lmaooo).

Fon to English Translations (these may not be perfect, if anybody has any feedback pls lmk!!!): 

Dŏwe - Lieutenant

Vǐ ce - My Child

Word Count: 1,935

I love Nanisca, she’s never in any fics so I wanted to start out with her and her relationship to Izogie being developed. There’s more to come with her and Amenza, and Nawi as well.

______________________________________________________________

Her eyes were dead set on the pair of strong legs in front of her as she pulled herself up off the ground, again and again - a look of total focus for something far beyond what was before her. Her hands made room for themselves in the hot, burnt orange soil. Her toes bent in, somehow equally as strong as the rest of her body, hinging with her every push.

The sun was just starting to go down, everyone else had finished training that day but the warrior and Nanisca had made a deal to do some extra work to get her back where she was before her injuries. She was lieutenant after all, and despite what happened - she was Agojie. They both were, and neither knew when something else might happen or when new trainees would come. She needed to be ready, they both agreed - despite Nanisca’s slight apprehension. 

“170…30 more.” Nanisca said, rolling the point of a dulled dagger on her finger tip, balancing the blade’s end between her other pointer. She knew it was practically nothing for the warrior to complete reps like this, she knew of the long nights and early mornings she spent training in what she thought was secret. Nanisca believed herself to know everything that went on in the palace and within the Agojie. But especially of what her successor was up too. She once did, maybe. But now, she wasn’t so sure. She only wish she knew more of what went on in the woman’s mind, the place where no one else could see. After so much turmoil, Nanisca felt the need to be more sure now than ever of what was taking place in her orbit.

“10 more. Alternate them.” Nanisca coached as she walked behind the woman to check her form from the back, noticing small cuts on her ankles and up her calves. She made note of this, filing it away with the rest of the knowledge she held about what was always going on around her, even if not in front of her. She looked at the woman’s arms and shoulders. Her form was perfect, as always. 

As the warrior swiftly - precisely - switched arms each rep, it was as if she was holding her breathe. Her core was tight and engaged, her legs never shook like any of the trainees and even some of the other Agojie (to which they tried to hide.). She was always precise, always on time, and always solid.

“You may stop now.” Nanisca said, bringing her mind back to focus. 

The warrior brought her knees forward and sat down, arms stretching behind her. She caught her breath, in quiet but big gulps.

“Tell me, Izogie, what have you been doing while I am not watching?”

The warrior hiccuped and choked on the air she was attempting to restore rhythm to for a split second, recovering quickly.

She didn’t answer, silence sat between them aside from the sounds of Izogie’s breath returning to center.

“You have nothing to say, Dŏwe?” Nanisca paused, waiting to see if the warrior would respond. She wanted the truth, as she had always gotten from Izogie without question. She felt a familiar pang of frustration quickly dispel into consideration and concern as she looked at the warriors hand shake as she tried to hide it behind her thigh. She had never seen her shake before. 

“Vǐ ce?” She asked again, softer. She had always felt softened about Izogie but Nanisca had buried her softness a long time ago. Until now. Until Nawi. She internally cursed herself for missing so much that she could’ve had. So much with Izogie, so much with the other Agojie, so much with Amenza - her truest friend, her truest something in so much nothingness she had endured. She often spent time yearning for who she once was, knowing she would have to grieve a girl that never got to exist. She didn’t want that for anybody else, Agojie or not. Responsibility or not. 

Izogie’s eyes traced her arms and the scars that lay on them as she looked for the words to say, the worry of her secret trainings being known to the Miganon sitting in the forefront of her mind. Something else, sitting behind it. She eased a bit as Nanisca called her that word - child. She had not been a child in so long. 

“I… I have been doing some extra trainings, alone. I apologize for keeping it a secret, Miganon. I have felt like I need to improve since the last battle with the Oyo and the slavers. I almost didn’t make it out. I was shot.. twice. And thought dead until Amenza… well you know. What’s worse is I nearly gave up before that.. I nearly let someone else decide my fate. If not for Nawi then…”

Her brow furrowed as she mindlessly brought her palm to one of her newer scars. If you can even call it a scar - it had not yet healed fully. A sometimes dull, sometimes sharp pain sat within the woman’s core and chest, every day.

In the absence of a response from Nanisca, Izogie continued, trying to pull herself together. She cannot slip, not here, not now.

“Then I would be dead. Or worse.”

“I do not want to fail Dahomey ever again. I do not want to fail you, ever again…” She said, meaning it wholly. “An- Anyway, I apologize Miganon. I accept any puni-”.

“I do not train sorry women. I do not welcome home failures.” Nanisca started. Izogie’s eyes darted to the other woman’s eyes, taken aback by the returning sternness, and shock at what she was hearing. 

“You did not die. And when you were taken, you still sought to follow my orders to slit your throat, even in the midst of your own life hanging in the balance. Yes?” She nodded at the warrior, asking more than telling. 

“You fought until the very end, and even further. You would have died anything but a failure. But…I am glad you did not slit your throat. I am glad you are home, here with us. With me…” Nanisca looked deep into her eyes, in a way only a mother could - even if she didn’t know she was a mother, really. Then she looked away.

“But I am not glad that since you have returned, you have not been the honest woman I know you to be. You think I do not know what happens in this palace? That I do not know you are more tired in the mornings than normal? That I do not see the repairs made to the training equipment, or see the blood left behind in the bath? I hear your pain at night when you do actually try to sleep, and I know you do not frequent the healers the way you should be. I hear you telling half truths, Izogie.” Nanisca set her dagger down and walked over to face the warrior fully. 

“I am asking about the cuts on your legs, the scent on your clothes when you greet me. The look in your eyes during the day. It is not just grief that you feel. Am I wrong?”

The warrior was speechless, a new feeling for her. Her head dropped low, examining the soil with her eyes as they welled with hot tears. One fell to the ground between her legs, making the orange soil turn muddy. She fought them with everything she had in her, which didn’t feel like much anymore.

Nanisca knelt next to her, grabbing her face with her fingers softly wiping away a tear or two, and lifting her chin. 

She was softer than Izogie remembered her being. She knew she had Nawi to thank, although she probably wouldn’t.

“Do not bow your head to me like I am nothing more than a commander. In battle, you would hand me the same sword that would keep you alive in less than a thought. You think I would not offer you even my ear?” She seared into Izogie’s eyes with a passion she had not felt with anyone but Nawi. She felt like she was looking at her child, as much as she was looking at her sister and her comrade. 

The warrior sat, silenced by her own mind. She knew what the Miganon was talking about. Her time spent outside the palace lately. Izogie has always been one to do her own thing, but she had never been out so frequently. She had never been secretive with Nanisca, even as a trainee. She always told the truth, loudly and openly for all to see and hear. She had always kept her sworn loyalty, without question and without force. Izogie loved being Agojie, and she respected all the rules that came along with being in the palace. She respected Nanisca, and she loved her. Quietly, underneath her reverence for the Woman King. But this was something she knew even the Miganon could not advocate for, or maybe even understand. She knew it had to be a secret.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth trying to say something. Anything. But the sharpness had returned and she groaned instead.

Nanisca let her face go and squeezed her shoulders tightly as she stood. 

“I will not ask again today. I trust in you the way I trust in myself. I know my own mind so I know yours, too. Do you trust me, Izogie?”

The warrior stood, arm bent over her core.

“I do, Miganon. Without question.”

Nanisca nodded slowly, knowing the warrior meant what she said but also knowing that she was going to keep whatever was going on from her for now. She knew the woman well, and well enough to recognize the look in her eye was as genuine as it was privately holding a secret. She wiped her hands on her tunic to rid of the dust from the ground and prepared to leave, sheathing her dagger. She could forgive one secret, for now, off the respect that this woman died for her daughter and fought to defend for her own life many times before. 

“I do not approve of your trainings.” She said in a voice that suggested she was back to business.

“But I will never take your body from you the way the slavers tried to, the way the Oyo did to me. You will figure it out. I give you two orders, lieutenant. Let yourself heal.”

Izogie nodded her head as she stood at attention. 

“I will be listening when you are ready to tell me the truth.”

She turned to walk away as Izogie stood there, in pain and drained from her training and the workings of her own mind.

“Miganon!” She called after the woman.

“What is the second order?” She asked, eager to please her commander again, not knowing she never stopped.

The Miganon turned only her head for a moment, before turning it back forward as she continued to walk.

“Never bow your head again, not in this palace and not anywhere else.”

Izogie stood there, holding her breath again as Nanisca entered back into the palace walls and about the rest of her business. Once she was out of sight, she sighed deeply and relaxed her arms and shoulders. She wasn’t sure what to make of what just happened but she felt comforted and at the same time, all the more conflicted than before. 

She grabbed her weapons and headed to her chambers to change.

______________________________________________________________

hey y'all, this is my first fic in a long time. its gonna be a short series, so pls lmk what you’re thinking and any feedback you have! (literally I am begging pls) thank you so much for reading 🥹

[like-rain-or-confetti]

So I recently rewatched Twilight. I remember watching it once when I was younger because it was really popular and everyone was talking about it, but I didn't know anything about it and, to be honest, I didn't care either, so I didn't think much about it. I watched for the sake of watching. It was around the time the last film was released. Eventually, and to my surprise, I started interacting with Twilight content a few years ago because of tumblr and fanfiction. I never thought this would happen, but here we are.

Anyway, the one thing that strangely always stood out to me was the fact that they made the Volturi and consequently other clans (like the Romanians) so weak.

Were they seriously saying the Volturi wouldn't have decimated the Cullens and their weirdo allies plus their weirdo puppies, in a second? Were they seriously saying that Caius alone wouldn't have done it and they wouldn't even know what got them? One second they would be alive, the next they would be dead. It was that simple. The way they were portrayed in the movies was so shameful. The way Caius died??? Were they for real??

Volturi alone, with members that are thousands of years old, would have unparalleled power and intelligence. With a military prowess unlike anything else. They are, literally, from the old world.

They wouldn't even entertain them if we were honest, they would deal with them while they were still in Italy.

Imagine lose to a bunch of kids.

I understand it was mostly kids/teen movies, but still. That was stupidly ridiculous.

Yup, we've all been there and it's absolutely RIDICULOUS 😂

I reckon that's why SM hasn't actually written another part like she intended to because where can you actually go with how BD played out?

I'd love to see a book solely on the Volturi but as per finishing up the story as she said in an interview? I think her safest bet is to leave it at BD. I don't see how she can go about it. Beyond the idea that the Volturi can only tear itself down. Which is very difficult again because that's accounted for. Chelsea.

Realistically, Chelsea can break other covens before vice versa. Unless they went the Marcus route. That Marcus ever found out the truth about Didyme's death. However, that also doesn't work because it's insinuated that even if you know Chelsea's influence on you- it won't change it. Should that be altered into 'let her in' formation then it makes per rather...phony? I can't really see Aro wanting Chelsea for her gift if it can be blocked so easily. That would make an overly complex problem that people (me) will fixate on. Plus it's a significant crack in this solid foundation the volturi is supported on. Chelsea can make or break bonds...if you want her to? Not great for an opponent. So I really see the only out being Chelsea turns on the volturi because they punt Afton. Which then leads to the question. WHY WOULD ARO BE SO BLOODY STUPID AS TO DO THAT? Ego? I think he's too manipulative for that.

So, without going too far into a tangent. I think the story can't really be completed. She can only really go into spin offs but could kind of lean into the it's going to take x amount of years for another confrontation so for us- the story is done and it's up to the readers to suspect what could happen in the future. However I don't really think published authors lean into the blurring the lines of fiction like that.

Plus the even bigger question... has it been too long for another book? I mean when the twilight hype started I was closer to 10 years old. Now I'm closer to 30. (Ew.) A lot of the fanbase is probably gone or not interest anymore. (Or only cares for the movies) and there's like a 10% chance that they'd pick up another twilight movie after all this time when the main three actors are done with it and two of them shit on it any chance they get by the sound of things. Plus they are all going to look older.

[not-active-blacksapphhicmaddonna]

half truths pt. 1

Izogie x Nanisca

Izogie didn't die before the end battle - at least not all the way. She has come back home to the palace, but Nanisca knows she isn't all there. Nanisca knows everything - almost. There's a lot of things both of them haven't admitted, but one seems to be taking a step towards vulnerability while one seems to be fighting some internal conflicts. Izogie is still a badass, though.

Mother/Daughter vibes underneath Commander/Lieutenant pairing. There's a lot of respect, but there's also a lot of love.

content warnings: mentions of wounds/scars, enslavement/enslavers, war/battle, weapons, body parts/physical training. (no fluff or smut stuff yet but it's only part one lmaooo).

Fon to English Translations (these may not be perfect, if anybody has any feedback pls lmk!!!):

Dŏwe - Lieutenant

Vǐ ce - My Child

Word Count: 1,935

I love Nanisca, she's never in any fics so I wanted to start out with her and her relationship to Izogie being developed. There's more to come with her and Amenza, and Nawi as well.

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Her eyes were dead set on the pair of strong legs in front of her as she pulled herself up off the ground, again and again - a look of total focus for something far beyond what was before her. Her hands made room for themselves in the hot, burnt orange soil. Her toes bent in, somehow equally as strong as the rest of her body, hinging with her every push.

The sun was just starting to go down, everyone else had finished training that day but the warrior and Nanisca had made a deal to do some extra work to get her back where she was before her injuries. She was lieutenant after all, and despite what happened - she was Agojie. They both were, and neither knew when something else might happen or when new trainees would come. She needed to be ready, they both agreed - despite Nanisca's slight apprehension.

"170...30 more." Nanisca said, rolling the point of a dulled dagger on her finger tip, balancing the blade's end between her other pointer. She knew it was practically nothing for the warrior to complete reps like this, she knew of the long nights and early mornings she spent training in what she thought was secret. Nanisca believed herself to know everything that went on in the palace and within the Agojie. But especially of what her successor was up too. She once did, maybe. But now, she wasn't so sure. She only wish she knew more of what went on in the woman's mind, the place where no one else could see. After so much turmoil, Nanisca felt the need to be more sure now than ever of what was taking place in her orbit.

"10 more. Alternate them." Nanisca coached as she walked behind the woman to check her form from the back, noticing small cuts on her ankles and up her calves. She made note of this, filing it away with the rest of the knowledge she held about what was always going on around her, even if not in front of her. She looked at the woman's arms and shoulders. Her form was perfect, as always.

As the warrior swiftly - precisely - switched arms each rep, it was as if she was holding her breathe. Her core was tight and engaged, her legs never shook like any of the trainees and even some of the other Agojie (to which they tried to hide.). She was always precise, always on time, and always solid.

"You may stop now." Nanisca said, bringing her mind back to focus.

The warrior brought her knees forward and sat down, arms stretching behind her. She caught her breath, in quiet but big gulps.

"Tell me, Izogie, what have you been doing while I am not watching?"

The warrior hiccuped and choked on the air she was attempting to restore rhythm to for a split second, recovering quickly.

She didn't answer, silence sat between them aside from the sounds of Izogie's breath returning to center.

"You have nothing to say, Dŏwe?" Nanisca paused, waiting to see if the warrior would respond. She wanted the truth, as she had always gotten from Izogie without question. She felt a familiar pang of frustration quickly dispel into consideration and concern as she looked at the warriors hand shake as she tried to hide it behind her thigh. She had never seen her shake before.

"Vǐ ce?" She asked again, softer. She had always felt softened about Izogie but Nanisca had buried her softness a long time ago. Until now. Until Nawi. She internally cursed herself for missing so much that she could've had. So much with Izogie, so much with the other Agojie, so much with Amenza - her truest friend, her truest something in so much nothingness she had endured. She often spent time yearning for who she once was, knowing she would have to grieve a girl that never got to exist. She didn't want that for anybody else, Agojie or not. Responsibility or not.

Izogie's eyes traced her arms and the scars that lay on them as she looked for the words to say, the worry of her secret trainings being known to the Miganon sitting in the forefront of her mind. Something else, sitting behind it. She eased a bit as Nanisca called her that word - child. She had not been a child in so long.

"I... I have been doing some extra trainings, alone. I apologize for keeping it a secret, Miganon. I have felt like I need to improve since the last battle with the Oyo and the slavers. I almost didn't make it out. I was shot.. twice. And thought dead until Amenza... well you know. What's worse is I nearly gave up before that.. I nearly let someone else decide my fate. If not for Nawi then..."

Her brow furrowed as she mindlessly brought her palm to one of her newer scars. If you can even call it a scar - it had not yet healed fully. A sometimes dull, sometimes sharp pain sat within the woman's core and chest, every day.

In the absence of a response from Nanisca, Izogie continued, trying to pull herself together. She cannot slip, not here, not now.

"Then I would be dead. Or worse."

"I do not want to fail Dahomey ever again. I do not want to fail you, ever again..." She said, meaning it wholly. "An- Anyway, I apologize Miganon. I accept any puni-".

"I do not train sorry women. I do not welcome home failures." Nanisca started. Izogie's eyes darted to the other woman's eyes, taken aback by the returning sternness, and shock at what she was hearing.

"You did not die. And when you were taken, you still sought to follow my orders to slit your throat, even in the midst of your own life hanging in the balance. Yes?" She nodded at the warrior, asking more than telling.

"You fought until the very end, and even further. You would have died anything but a failure. But...I am glad you did not slit your throat. I am glad you are home, here with us. With me..." Nanisca looked deep into her eyes, in a way only a mother could - even if she didn't know she was a mother, really. Then she looked away.

"But I am not glad that since you have returned, you have not been the honest woman I know you to be. You think I do not know what happens in this palace? That I do not know you are more tired in the mornings than normal? That I do not see the repairs made to the training equipment, or see the blood left behind in the bath? I hear your pain at night when you do actually try to sleep, and I know you do not frequent the healers the way you should be. I hear you telling half truths, Izogie." Nanisca set her dagger down and walked over to face the warrior fully.

"I am asking about the cuts on your legs, the scent on your clothes when you greet me. The look in your eyes during the day. It is not just grief that you feel. Am I wrong?"

The warrior was speechless, a new feeling for her. Her head dropped low, examining the soil with her eyes as they welled with hot tears. One fell to the ground between her legs, making the orange soil turn muddy. She fought them with everything she had in her, which didn't feel like much anymore.

Nanisca knelt next to her, grabbing her face with her fingers softly wiping away a tear or two, and lifting her chin.

She was softer than Izogie remembered her being. She knew she had Nawi to thank, although she probably wouldn't.

"Do not bow your head to me like I am nothing more than a commander. In battle, you would hand me the same sword that would keep you alive in less than a thought. You think I would not offer you even my ear?" She seared into Izogie's eyes with a passion she had not felt with anyone but Nawi. She felt like she was looking at her child, as much as she was looking at her sister and her comrade.

The warrior sat, silenced by her own mind. She knew what the Miganon was talking about. Her time spent outside the palace lately. Izogie has always been one to do her own thing, but she had never been out so frequently. She had never been secretive with Nanisca, even as a trainee. She always told the truth, loudly and openly for all to see and hear. She had always kept her sworn loyalty, without question and without force. Izogie loved being Agojie, and she respected all the rules that came along with being in the palace. She respected Nanisca, and she loved her. Quietly, underneath her reverence for the Woman King. But this was something she knew even the Miganon could not advocate for, or maybe even understand. She knew it had to be a secret.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth trying to say something. Anything. But the sharpness had returned and she groaned instead.

Nanisca let her face go and squeezed her shoulders tightly as she stood.

"I will not ask again today. I trust in you the way I trust in myself. I know my own mind so I know yours, too. Do you trust me, Izogie?"

The warrior stood, arm bent over her core.

"I do, Miganon. Without question."

Nanisca nodded slowly, knowing the warrior meant what she said but also knowing that she was going to keep whatever was going on from her for now. She knew the woman well, and well enough to recognize the look in her eye was as genuine as it was privately holding a secret. She wiped her hands on her tunic to rid of the dust from the ground and prepared to leave, sheathing her dagger. She could forgive one secret, for now, off the respect that this woman died for her daughter and fought to defend for her own life many times before.

"I do not approve of your trainings." She said in a voice that suggested she was back to business.

"But I will never take your body from you the way the slavers tried to, the way the Oyo did to me. You will figure it out. I give you two orders, lieutenant. Let yourself heal."

Izogie nodded her head as she stood at attention.

"I will be listening when you are ready to tell me the truth."

She turned to walk away as Izogie stood there, in pain and drained from her training and the workings of her own mind.

"Miganon!" She called after the woman.

"What is the second order?" She asked, eager to please her commander again, not knowing she never stopped.

The Miganon turned only her head for a moment, before turning it back forward as she continued to walk.

"Never bow your head again, not in this palace and not anywhere else."

Izogie stood there, holding her breath again as Nanisca entered back into the palace walls and about the rest of her business. Once she was out of sight, she sighed deeply and relaxed her arms and shoulders. She wasn't sure what to make of what just happened but she felt comforted and at the same time, all the more conflicted than before.

She grabbed her weapons and headed to her chambers to change.

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hey y'all, this is my first fic in a long time. its gonna be a short series, so pls lmk what you're thinking and any feedback you have! (literally I am begging pls) thank you so much for reading 🥹

[graphicabyss]

DOS2: A Tale of Frustration

So BG3 doesn't run on my old PC so I turned to DOS2 to fill the void and I finished it out of pure spite. I'm sorry to all the fans but... omg why is it so frustrating? So I'm putting some of the things that were driving me crazy to get it off my chest.

the skill icons on the panel keep disappearing when I try to click them like 30% of the time

the 98 damage types and every enemy has a resistance to each of these

the undead heal from poison damage for some fucking reason

the fucking clouds. poison clouds can be extinguished by fire? makes total sense. Electric clouds? You're fucked unless you know a specific spell.

in half the fights everything ends up on fire, often cursed or necrofire. good luck!

Don't you just love the fights where you start of fighting 3 enemies and end up fighting 12? Not my idea of subverting the expectations.

crafting makes no sense, there are 6834673 items to be crafted and half of them are only useful in early game

how are you supposed to learn the recipes? you get some from dozens of crafting books but it's still only like 30%. How am I supposed to know hammer to a potato makes fries?

I was googleing up quests, crafting, combat and everything else every 5 minutes because I'm tired of going into shit blind but honestly it wasn't enough.

you are free to go anywhere except the areas all have specific levels so you struggle through enemies that are 2 levels higher and then find areas that are 3 levels lower you missed

And what's up with Arx? You expect a chill city phase and end up slaughtered wherever you go. And good luck finding those source points!

Half the quests only work if you have a specific character, specific race or trait and you don't know which. Better prepare for a fight.

Persuasion checks make no sense and you only know the requirements once you fail. Have a fun fight!

Finishing a really tough fight, being really proud of yourself... Looting the dead enemies only to fight... Sir Lora. That little bitch has a deathwish and shall run through necrofire and deathfog like its full of nuts. I redid almost every late-game battle more than once. Goddammit.

I appreciate the immersion but could the NPCs stop pacing for 5 seconds? I need to talk to them! I was running after Hannag for 5 solid minutes and only managed to speak to her after I froze the water making her fall.

The inventory drove me crazy... It's not just gear and potions. You have a pyromancer and the enemies are immune to fire? You better get those scrolls. 97 ingredients half of which you're never gonna use. And I just love putting all my keys into my bag of keys manually.

The armour, man. The armour has physical/magic protection stats, skill points, ability points and sometimes spells. So you wanna swap those gloves? LOL now you can't use 3 spells and are also overburdened.

Faithful Item Set. Just that alone. The set has like 9 items and they're all dispersed all over the map, with the most important parts found on random NPCs! Like, there's no quest relating to it, there are no clues. Just... look in every crate and trade with every single character, bro. Good luck! I got all the items using a very detailed guide... except not. Turns out I got the boots first and sold them off at some point. Woo!

Right-clicking doesn't work half the time. Wanna identify shit or disarm a trap? Nope. Wanna look up that boss that you're about to fight? Don't be a pussy, just hit them and see if it works.

I am using a reasonable number of giftbag perks. I'd probably quit without them by now.

Spent about 260 hours on this game and about 100 of it was just inventory sorting.

The final battle... where do I even start? You get all the spells, all the scrolls, all the potions... only to get one-shot by the fucking Kraken. I expected something epic and received an utter clusterfuck. I only managed to win after about 6 tries and only by drinking invisibility potions, waiting for everyone to murder each other and then finishing Rex.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Sorry for your time.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

today's been...a lot, lol

my mom let the dog out at 6 this morning and for whatever reason he decided to just...take off into the woods immediately

and my mom's trying to get ready for work so she doesn't have time to deal with him and my dad can't so fortunately i was up anyway because i need to be now, so i managed to get him back inside but of course he's covered in brambles and his fur's really thick and curly so they were like...in there

i started to try to just give him a bath to help get them out but he wasn't having that and kept trying to bite me every time i picked him up so instead i spent the first hour of my day this morning patiently and gently pulling each out

meanwhile my mom's having a mental crisis because she only got two hours of sleep and now this situation has just sent her over the edge

apparently my dad got up in the middle of the night and was up walking around by himself which like....yeah, he's doing better with that right now, but still

it made her so anxious so couldn't get back to sleep so she was in tears by the time she finally left

after that and making sure my dad had everything he needed i went to go get ready to go to therapy because a family friend of ours has changed his work schedule around so he's able to come be with my dad for stuff like that where my mom and i both have to be out of the house but on my way to therapy i didn't realize one of the roads i normally take was completely blocked off and i didn't know another way to get around so i was going to have to get my gps and i was already worrying about running late so definitely just had to pull into a parking lot to scream at the top of my lungs for a solid 30 seconds (pretty good scream, tho, if i do say so; very horror movie)

did mange to make it to my appointment, though so that's something! spent the entire hour just bawling my fucking eyes out, but i made it!!

also, as an aside...the people who own the building my therapist is in just...fucked her over basically? and so now she has to find a new place so that's....great. apparently my session next week will be the last one in that office so that's fun. that's just a barrel of fun for everyone right there

but just wait, the fun doesn't stop there!!

because when i got home i went to get me an uncrustable from the freezer for my lunch and realized that apparently it was packed too full in there and so everything was staring to defrost

so naturally i proceeded to just...lose it again, lol

cannot put into words how grateful i am to our family friend, though

he was here and he swooped into action and cleaned the freezer out and even organized it and handled everything because at that point i was full meltdown just sobbing and sweating profusely so i had to go take my second shower of the day, fun!

but i think that's hopefully it for today

i'm debating if i want to bother trying to clock in and get some work done or if i just call it a loss and work tomorrow and saturday instead

for right now, i'm going to finish eating my lunch and probably lie down and cuddle steve for a little bit and i hope to fucking god nothing else goes wrong today

tomorrow? sure, maybe, fine

today??

no!! no more!!!

[sgtgascan]

So it’s not officially called “The Alibi”.

Officially, the sign over the front door reads Lou's, though nobody named Lou has ever worked in or owned the place. Lou's is located about 5 minutes away from the interstate, in that strange little strip of city that is just seedy enough for a strip club, but also has the brand new, brand name gym across the street and family homes for sale 2 miles away.

What Lou's lacks in class and food quality, it makes up for in cheap beer and history. no-one really has a clue when Lou's was founded, who first owned it, or who really triggered "The Alibi" bit. What is known for certain is that in 1961, the bar started to get a reputation for attracting the people who got shit done in the local underworld.

Now I don't mean that "The Boss" showed up every night with his consigliere and a few hot broads in tow, no. They hung out in a joint downtown. No, the guys that showed up to Lou's were the grunts.

Poker game runners, fixers, conmen, thieves, grease monkeys, soldiers, bikers, fencers, etc.

These guys just wanted a quiet place to have a beer and wind down after a long day. Cause hey, even crooks have hard days at work you know what I mean?

Some time in 1975, a few rats and well meaning citizens let the cops know that the muscle was hanging around the place. Every once and while the cops would come in and ask if we had seen any number of random mooks on a given day.

Some of the guys were owed favors, so 'of course we'd seen them officer, sat right down in that very stool, ordered my last bottle of Jack Daniels around 11pm the lousy prick'. The cops'd shrug, ask one or two of the regulars, and then move on to the next case, cause by the time they were asking around at Lou's they were scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Over time it evolved from one or two of the regulars being owed favors to damn near the whole bar during one memorable DA election in '81. Favor trading got so bad that the staff quietly put out the word that everyone, yes everyone, would be provided an alibi if the cops asked.

So it went for the next 30+ years. Wise guys'd get pinched for a job, Lou's would bail them out with a rock solid alibi. Didn't always work of course, sometimes the crew in question would get nabbed cause of something else, but it worked most of the time.

You wanna know my favorite story? Geez, you really wanna know this, you know you'll become an accomplice, right? All right, all right, here you go:

Some time in July, 2015, night was going as normal. Big Mike just got back from a 7 year stretch in the clink, so the crowd was a little bit bigger than normal, but we were handling it. Bit rowdy too, already told them off for being too loud about three times by 10pm.

I'll never forget the four things that happened as it hit 11:15; "Jumpy" orders his 3rd 2 liter beer of the night, Big Mike starts laughing his ass off at something Sammy just said, the pool game in the corner gets finished, and a brunette girl about 5'5" tall walks through the front door.

Now, two things: #1, nobody, and I mean nobody uses the front door. Maybe if it's your first time, but that's a crew initiation thing, and everybody is kinda expecting you at that point. #2, she wasn't part of a crew.

She looked a bit nervous. Kinda like Matty when I dropped him off on his first day of second grade, or when you go to the bank with a wad of cash to deposit. Didn't let that stop her though, marched right up to the bar, sat down in Jimmy Small's old seat, and ordered a screwdriver.

Now I made the screwdriver, told her it would be $3.50, tax included, and waited for the story to come out. First thing you learn as a bartender at Lou's; Everyone's got a story.

She didn't appear to have one though, just sat there, sipping at her screwdriver while I restocked the shelves. Texted a few times, and just kept sipping the drink while watching a boxing match play out above my head.

45 minutes after the screwdriver order, another person walks through the front door. This time, its one of those straight laced mid-town types. You know the kinda guy, wears a sweater vest while grilling steaks with the neighborhood watch.

He stops in the door, glances around, spots the girl, and makes a beeline straight for her. Nearly ran over Jumpy coming back from the john.

Bar's gone kinda quiet, since this is the second non-cop intruder of the night, and we're all trying to figure out why these two characters are here to start with. This is the only reason I hear the first words that come out of sweater vest's mouth: "It's time to come home Jeremy."

"I told you Richard, it's Haley. How many times to I have to tell you this?", screwdriver girl replies. He goes red in the face damn near immediately, and shoots back, "And I've told you that you are my son, and it's time to stop this ridiculous 'trans' nonsense before you embarrass me and your mother."

A wave of loud murmuring rolls around the bar and I see Big Mike stand up from his seat out of the corner of my eye. Girl looks damn near tears and says something I can't hear, but the tone of "Get out" is unmistakable.

Big Mike and I get there at the same time.

I offer up some witty line about how come you haven't cleaned me out of orange juice with all these screwdrivers. Big Mike gives a hug and demands to know why she hasn't seen him since he got out of prison. The rest of the bar starts glaring at the back of Ricard's head like he just ratted out Uncle Patty.

Richard, to his credit, realizes that he's on hostile ground and makes for the door. Course he had to leave with the classic parting shots of "don't expect anymore financial help" and "my son is dead to me", crap like that.

The rest of the story is long and sappy. Lots of hugs, crying, snot, and screwdrivers. Turns out that Haley is pretty good artist, and that a tattoo needle ain't too far off from a ballpoint pen when it comes down to it. She does most of the ink for the guys, and has a regular spot in Jimmy Small's old seat. "The Alibi", not just for crime, eh?

So.... You gonna order another one? Screwdriver for the road?

----------------------------------

Alright, my second piece of writing. This one snuck up and fucking ambushed me with the story and the background. I read the prompt, saved it for later, sat back down for netflix. Whole time watching, just kept thinking about ideas, background, characters. Gaddamnit, I'm a writer now, aren't I?

For fun, one of the characters mentioned is an an active mobster in NYC. Bonus points if you can name which charater and the gang name.

Oh, FYI, from a cishet man, fuck the terfs.

A bar called “The Alibi” that’s notorious for being just that.. an alibi. Often packed with ex-cons, the customers of The Alibi adhere to a silent, but strict, code: If they say they were here, we saw them. They’ll always back an alibi, no questions asked.

[wolferals]

APPLE PIE WITH SUGAR AND TEARS

Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff, Henry being a big bear and comforting you when you‘re upset about apple pie

Your smile faded the second you heard the door shut. „What do you mean?“ you asked your mother who was currently cleaning the kitchen.

„They went to buy some cake for later.“

You had heard her the first time. „But I baked apple pie for you.“ She shrugged her shoulders and didn’t pay any more attention to you.

5 hours. It had taken you 5 hours to go grocery shopping, to make the dough for the pan, to boil the apples soft and finish the filling. Another 30 minutes for decorating. And no one appreciated you for just one second. They had looked at your pie and told you how good it looked but now your dad and aunt had left to buy cake for later. Cake. 5 hours for nothing.

Tears building up in your eyes, you practically ran to the bathroom to stop yourself from crying.

Not here, not now, you told yourself. You tried to hold it together and went to your room to scream into a pillow or to bite onto something to prevent yourself from having a mental breakdown.

You had baked all your love into that pie. And now no one wanted it.

Eyes feeling heavy, lips trembling and on the verge of crying, you grabbed your things and made your way back downstairs. „Mom I gotta go. Bear peed on my bed. I saw it on the monitor, I have to get going and clean it up. I‘ll be back later.“

You lied and waved to her before she could protest.

Bear was your puppy, you‘d had him for 2 months and he did happen to pee everywhere. But he was with Henry for the day, but your mom didn’t know that.

You grabbed your keys and drove to Henrys place as fast as you could.

You needed to talk to someone, a friend to cheer you up. Henry didnt live too far from your parents house, it didn’t take you too long to get there.

Knocking on the door like crazy, you could feel the tears coming again.

The second, Henry opened the door and greeted you with a confused smile, you just let it go. Thick tears streaming down your face, his smile fell immediately when he saw your lips trembling again.

„Y/n what happened?“ He practically pulled you inside, wrapping his huge arms around you. You sniffled into his shirt, hearing dogs barking around you.

You felt Kal‘s nose rub on your leg while you held onto Henry tightly, crying your little soul out.

„Shh it’s okay, let it out.“ He soothed you, stoking your hair gently as your face was buried in his chest.

„Breathe.“ he whispered, placing his chin on the top of your head.

You took a deep breath and slowly let go of him after wetting his shirt for a solid 5 minutes. Burying your hands in your sleeves, you cried out a soft „I‘m sorry.“ Henry only placed his hand on your soaked cheek and wiped away some of the tears.

„Take a deep breath.“ he told you and looked at you, full of patience, not expecting anything.

He simply waited for you to calm down. „Sit down come on“

He led you to the couch and you wiped your tears on one of his blankets. The one you always used when you were cold. When you were watching movies with him. „I‘ll get you some water.“ Henry stroked your cheek softly before disappearing into the kitchen, the dogs following him.

Meanwhile you rubbed your sore, red and puffy eyes and tried to calm your breath.

He returned and handed you a glass of cold tap water.

„Thanks.“ you mumbled and took a big sip. You only noticed then, how dry your throat had been.

„Do you want to tell me what happened?“ He softly spoke, sitting down next to you and sending you a sweet smile.

„I made that apple pie yesterday, I told you about that.“ -„Yeah it was beautiful!“ he exclaimed, clearly not knowing where the story was going.

„I gave it to my mom after lunch right? After my brother and I had cooked roast and dumplings in the kitchen for two hours.“ Henry nodded.

„My brother immediately tried it after lunch but everyone else said that they were full from lunch, which I get because we had a lot of food right?“

Henry listened intently.

„Then my dad and my aunt left and I didn’t know why or where they were going. And my mom then told me that they‘d left to get cake from the bakery. I baked for 4 hours yesterday and they bought cake. It was my gift to her for mothers day. I put so much effort into it and no one cared. Do you know how much that hurts? I feel like such a loser, i feel like no one even cares right now.“

Henrys expression softened, his hand rubbing circles on the leg you‘d placed over his lap.

„Oh sweetheart.“

„I feel like I‘m useless you know? I put so much fucking effort into that fucking pie and they don‘t even want it.“

You scooted closer to him and leaned your head against his shoulder.

„I understand that and I‘m so sorry for that. You‘re amazing, and the pie looked delicious. You‘re a great person, you‘re not useless. Nor are you unappreciated, I appreciate you so much you know? You don‘t deserve that.“

He put his arm around you. „You‘re so great y/n really.“ You forced yourself to smile but you felt like crying again.

„Seriously. They suck, fuck them. Stay here. Lets order some food.“ He spoke and you looked up at him.

„Hm?“ he asked and pointed at little Bear on the floor, looking up at you guys expectingly.

„I guess he missed his momma too.“

You chuckled, grabbing Bear to place him on your lap. He immediately cuddled up to you. Henry rubbed your back and spoke again:“Just stay with me for a bit okay? Lets bake pie together. I promise you, pie never goes to waste with me. I‘ll eat it all without you, you should watch out. Might not get a slice for yourself. I‘m fast.“

You only laughed. „Much better.“

Henry smiled back and you leaned back against him.

„Thank you.“ You felt him shifting behind you until he wrapped both his arms around you and the little puppy on your lap to keep you close.

„Anytime babe. Let‘s make some apple pie, come one.“

Btw based on a true story that happened an hour ago. Excluding Henry unfortunately. But fuck apple pie, should have eaten it myself…

[slightlywhelming]

SongWriting like the Pros

Recently, I got to sit down and write with a friend of mine who plays guitar for a famous rock band (800,000 monthly listeners on Spotify). We're going to call him Kaden. During our session, he showed me a lot about how the producers his band works with write songs (industry-leading names mind you) and I thought it was a fascinating charge of pace from my usual approach. So here, dear reader, is the entire session step-by-step.

(In case you don't care to read this entire post, the most interesting part is towards the bottom.)

The session started with what Kaden called "Therapy Mode". We sat down without the instruments and just started chatting. "What's new? What have you been thinking about this week? What do you feel about x y or z?" until we landed on a good prompt for a song. He specified that a good prompt should be "unique to you, but relatable to everyone else". During this process, we also wrote down any specific phrases that came to mind as we figured out what we wanted to say. More on this later.

When we had the prompt, we started playing with chords. Kaden said we should start with "grandpa chords", ie. the standard open chords that you learn in the first 2 weeks of playing the guitar. As much as I love finding unique chords and voicings, Kaden insisted that vocal melody was more important, and that unique chords should come AFTER a solid melody is written. It is also important to note that we specifically started with the chorus of the song, ie. the most important and memorable part.

Once we agreed upon a chord progression, we started playing with the melody by singing gibberish. The idea was to trust your ears to find something catchy. Kaden kept saying "Don't think so hard, just sing what makes sense".

Next, we started to formulate lyrics. It's important to note that the melody and the lyrics were developed at the same time. We had a rough draft melody that we built off of, but weren't afraid to change if the lyrics required it. For the lyrics on the chorus, Kaden said they should "be simple enough that an 8th grader would write it on a notebook" because "no one obsesses over lyrics like 8th graders". Even if you are a writer who loves to use metaphors to hide the meaning of their lyrics, the chorus should be fairly straight forward. During this stage, we tried to use each of the phrases we had written down earlier.

As the pieces fell in place, Kaden started to nitpick every decision we made. Some melodies were rewritten, some lyrics were scrapped, and a chord or two were changed. The important thing during this stage is not to get attached to anything you've previously decided on. You don't want to miss out on something better because you're too obsessed with your first idea.

When we finally figured something out that we both liked, I made the assumption that we would start detailing the song by making the chords more interesting, writing the verses, adding harmonies, drums, etc. I was WRONG. When I finished playing what we had written, Kaden hit me with "Cool, let's start over."

Here's the part the blew my mind. Kaden, his band, and every major producer they work with only do 1 thing 90% of the time: write choruses. They write a chorus with just vocals and simple chords and then move on. They don't finish the songs until they decide to write an album.

To put this into perspective, their vocalist is constantly writing 30 second choruses, year round. Last time Kaden's band sat down to do an album, they had 146 demos to pick from. 146! From there, they narrowed the list down to the best 12 and finished each song like this:

Chorus (with completed instrument parts) -> 1st Verse -> Intro -> 2nd Verse -> Bridge -> Outro

Essentially, once you have a really solid chorus, you want to figure out how the song should go leading up to that chorus and then write to the end after that. Last thing I'll leave you with is Kaden's response when I asked why we wouldn't finish the song we had started. "Why spend the time to finish this one if the next chorus we write is 10x better?"

What do you think about this method? Is this something you'd like to try?

[storyofmychoices]

Home: Where She Belongs

[Levi Schuler x Laura Day Masterlist]

Pairing: Levi Schuler x Laura Day [F!MC] with Lily (daughter) Book: Mother of the Year (chapter 16) Word Count: <1,600 (sorry it's a big long!) Rating: General

Prompts: @choicesaugustchallenge relaxation; @choicesbookclub : MOTY Replay Chapter 16 ; @wackydrabbles #108 (prompt in bold)

A/N: As a whole MOTY is a solid book, but one thing that I hated was the fact that instead of going home with her daughter after winning the court case MC sneaks off with her LI for a 30 diamond scene. I love those scenes, but that wasn't the time.

Synopsis: Following the celebration with their friends over the court case win, Laura and Lily head home for a private celebration, knowing they had won and no one would keep them apart. [Fluff with some comfort/care]

Bliss. Laura thought after some consideration. That's what this is—bliss.

Her body fluttered with a pleasant warmth that enveloped her in its comfort and relaxation. She breathed easily for the first time in weeks, the weight of the world no longer on her shoulders. She could simply enjoy the moment without worry of tomorrow.

She knew better than to expect the future to be sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, but for the moment, this was enough—actually, it was more than enough—it was perfect. The outcome might not have been everything she wanted, but it was better than what she feared. Lily was hers, and she always would be.

The voices of her friends surrounded her. They had all been eager to join in for a celebratory dinner. She had never needed to ask them to be there; they just were. She wondered how she and Lily would have survived in Goldcliffe without them; thankfully, they'd never need to figure it out.

Laura leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of her hand as she watched Levi play a game with Lily and Luz across the table. Their laughter was a melody in the night air, one that filled her heart with joy. Her eyes glistened in the dimming light. She wondered if the smile etched on her face would ever fade.

Lily's mouth opened, a silent yawn slipping out between excited explanations of her science fair project and how her newly rebuilt rocket was better than the previous one.

"It's late," Laura finally said, interrupting their game. "You've had a big day, my Stargirl. We both have. How about we head home?" Home—Laura couldn't help but smile at the word. Lily was going home with her, where she belonged.

"Okay," Lily agreed, without any complaining, knowing they had already planned their own little private celebration.

Laura said her goodbyes, thanking her friends once more for all they had done. Lily made her rounds, giving hugs and reminding everyone of the upcoming science fair.

"Thank you," Laura whispered as Levi drew her into his arms, holding her safely. "I couldn't have survived this without you."

"As much as my ego thanks you for that, you're the strongest person I know. You can survive anything." He brushed a kiss on her forehead as he leaned back, his attention turning to Lily. He pulled her into a bear hug that lifted her off the ground, causing her to giggle into his shoulder. "Goodnight, Rocket. I'm glad we'll still get to be neighbors. I'd hate to lose my partner in crime."

"I'm glad I get to stay too!" Lily beamed. "Do you want to come have celebration hot chocolate with us?"

"Celebration hot chocolate?" Levi set her back on the ground and bent down to her level. "I don't want to mess up whatever you and your mom have planned. You two have fun."

"But, there's extra marshmallows!!!" Her eyes widened, pleading with him.

"Extra marshmallows, huh?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "And whipped cream. And cinnamon! And chocolate syrup!"

"Wow. That is tempting." His gaze shifted to Laura, who was attempting to hide her smile behind her hands. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! You have to come!" She insisted, slipping her hand into his. "Right, mom?"

"I think she's right. I mean, how can you argue against celebration hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, AND cinnamon?" Laura shrugged in defeat as if though there were no other options than to accept.

"Then, there's nowhere else I'd rather be," Levi decided.

It didn't take long for the water to heat once they returned home. They worked together, moving through the kitchen as if it had always been like this—the three of them. Levi got the mugs ready with the powdered chocolate mix. Laura carefully poured water into each, leaving plenty of room for Lily to add all the toppings.

Marshmallows rained down over the three cups as she scooped large handfuls onto each mug. Lily grinned excitedly as she tipped the can of whipped cream, creating white, fluffy mountains, with one peak noticeably higher than the others.

"Do you think you need that much sugar before bed?" Laura questioned with a raise of her brow.

Lily's eyes widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "It's a celebration!"

"Just this once!" Laura kissed the top of her daughter's head, her fingers trailing through her silky, black hair. Every day had always been a treasure with Lily, but now more so than ever. She would never take a second of their time together for granted.

Lily sprinkled cinnamon on hers and her mom's cups. "Do you want some, Levi?"

"Hmm‚" he pondered. He dipped his fingers through her cinnamon-dusted, whipped cream ridge, sampling it. "Mmm, that is good!"

"Hey!" Lily pouted. "No fair."

Levi laughed, a playful smirk pulling at his lips. He scooped up some of the fluffy topping off of his cup and dotted it on her nose. "Better?"

Lily's mouth fell open in surprise. Her hand was on the can of whipped cream again. The nozzle pointing at Levi, her finger hovering dangerously on the trigger, ready to set it off with the slightest change in pressure.

Their gaze narrowed at one another, the corners of their lips pulling up as silence fell in the kitchen.

"If it's war you want—" Lily began, breaking the quiet. "Then you shall have it."

Levi grabbed the plastic container of chocolate syrup, holding it up. "Two can play at that game, Rocket."

Lily stood in her chair, keeping her finger carefully on the nozzle. "I have the high ground."

Before he could respond, Laura stepped in, snatching both containers from them.

"Mom!"

"Laura," Levi moaned, matching Lily's tone but adding a teasing wink.

"You two are trouble!"

"Only the best kind of trouble, right?" Levi took his mug and lifted it up. "What do you say, rocket—partners in crime still?"

Lily lifted her mug, clinking it against his. "Space partners in crime," she added.

"How could I forget?" He took a sip of his cocoa as Lily did the same. Both of them ended up with whipped cream on their noses.

Laura sighed happily, watching the two most important people in her world laugh effortlessly together.

After about an hour of Lily vibrating from her sugar high and rattling off the names of all the stars in the night sky above them, she finally crashed on the couch. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth still attempted to finish the list.

"I think it's time for bed, my little astronomer." Laura helped her sleepy daughter to her room to get ready for bed. She tucked her carefully under the covers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Good night, my beautiful girl. I love you to Andromeda and back."

She paused at the door, taking another look back. A part of her worried she'd never have this moment again. The sight of Lily safely asleep in her bed, the glow-in-the-dark stars above her keeping watch as her daughter dreamt dreams bigger than she could ever imagine.

When she returned, she found Levi where she left him on the couch. She curled into his arms.

He brushed her hair back, kissing the crown of her head. "What do you need? What can I do for you? Lily wasn't the only one with a big day."

"This," she whispered, closing her eyes as she breathed in his scent. "Just hold me."

"Done." He hugged her closer, wrapping her in his warmth. His fingers caressed her back, massaging her tenderly. "I won't let go. I love you, Laura—you 'n Lily, more than I could've thought possible."

Her body trembled, and she let out a sharp cry. The tears she had pushed down all day erupted at the sound of his confession.

"Shh, it's okay. I've got you."

She buried her face in his chest, hoping to quell the tears that kept coming, not wanting to wake Lily.

"It's okay. You did good. Lily is safe. You're safe. It's going to be okay." He continued whispering tender encouragement in her ear as he kept her close, allowing the weeks of frustration and heartbreak to pour out.

Slowly, her breathing steadied, and her sobs subsided.

"That's it. You need sleep. Come on." He lifted her into his arms, much to her surprise. His brow arched as he caught her eye. "What? I said I wouldn't let go."

She nuzzled back into his neck. "Thank you...for everything."

"Shh, just rest." He carried her to her room at the end of the short hall, placing her down on the edge of the bed. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears.

Her eyes were red and swollen. "Stay?"

"Are you sure?"

She stood to meet him, wobbling a little, not realizing how tired she was, but he was there to support her. She cupped his face. "I've never been more sure. I love you, Levi."

He kissed her softly. "Okay. Who am I to disagree with what the lady wants."

"Good. I'm not ready for you to let go yet." Laura slipped out of her clothes, grabbing a baggy t-shirt to put on.

"Great band!" Levi noted as he took off his pants and shirt and slid into bed. "I have the same shirt at home."

"No, you don't—" Laura climbed in, nestling into him once more. "—because this one's yours."

He breathed out a laugh as he rested his head on hers. He held her close, humming softly until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your support. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always amazing and make my day!

I hope you enjoyed this story. (Don't worry, Laura and Levi will still get their 30 diamond scene... that night just didn't feel appropriate for it).

Tags in a reblog, please let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[vera-ohmyotp]

I am writing this from my grave (and no I still have no idea how tumblr works so I use it like twt but here they don’t tell me to shut up bc the character limit is longer lmao)

You made me cry😭 like not lying, but not in a bad way!!!! I guess I was too emotional today and it has been a really weird day I guess. I was very happy when I saw we were getting 34 minchan creations because of the Secret Minchan Valentine’s event but then I got the chance to sit down and see everything that was being posted and everyone was so cool and I came to see yours (WHICH BTW I ALREADY KNEW IT WAS YOU WITHOUT EVEN CHECKING THE LINK WHEN THE TEASER WAS POSTED BC THERE IS NO ONE IN THIS PLANET WHO CAPTURES MY ATTENTION AND MY HEART WITH SUCH FORCE😭😭😭😭)

And oh my god

I was seriously not expecting a FULL COMIC (this feature is so cool Hehe) so I grabbed a pillow and made myself comfortable to enjoy it

And I am currently on my knees

What the hell akku what the hell what the hell WHY ARE YOU SO TALENTED AND SO HARD WORKING !!!!!! THE WAY YOU KEEP TRYING NEW THINGS AND NEW STYLES AND STILL SLAY EVERY SINGLE TIME????? BLESS YOUR BEST FRIEND, THEY KNEW YOU WOULD SLAY AND YOU SERVED SO HARD WONDUEBWODHEUWNSOWJ

They look so pretty!!😭😭😭😭😭 and i can tell you made this even if it’s very diff from your usual style!! And it’s just SOOOO CUTE!!! The colours are so warm and so Valentine’s Day aesthetic (bc pink, I’m a simple minded person and I go by vibes lmao). And I know this might be very weird but I loved the backgrounds lmaoooo like I WAS LOOKING AT THEM GOING OHHHHHH WOW THIS IS PRETTY!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 the bathroom wall is so pretty what the heck😭 what type of sorcery is this I KEPT STARING AT IT FOR A SOLID 30 SECOND MOMENT BEFORE I FORCED MYSELF TO MOVE ON 😭😭😭😭😭😭

But what absolutely FLOORED me was 🐰’s blush and 🐺‘s cocky attitude. I’m not kidding when I said my soul left my body when mnh asked him to put on a shirt and chn HAD THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO SAY “I’ll sleep like this anyways” LIKE SIR I AM GOING TO SEND YOU THE HOSPITAL BILL I AN NOT OKAY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 AND MNH’S REACTION IS SO FUCKING REAL BUT PLEASE THEN CHN ASKED IF MNH WAS GOING TO RAVISH HIM AND THE BUTTERFLIES I FELT OSBDYENQODBEUWNDOHEWI BC MNH FUCKING DIDDDDD (as he should and it’s not like he can’t help it, this man is so whipped please) AND THEN THE BUTTERFLIES GOT SUPER STRENGTH AND THEY WERE ABOUT TO LIFT ME UP FROM MY BED FROM HOW INSANE THEY WENT😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MY GOSH THISE KISSES WERE GREAT THEY WERE REALLY RAVISHING EACH OTHER AND IT KEPT GOING UP AND UP AND MNH’S EXPRESSION WITH CHN PRESSING HIM AGAINST THE MIRROR I NEED OXYGEN

I NEED OXYGEN URGENTLY 😭😭😭😭

I HAD TO TAKE DEEP BREATHS AFTER FINISHING READING THE COMIC AND THEN I READ YOUR NOTE And I cried bc I’m emotionally unstable but what else is new😚

I seriously don’t know how to even tell you how much I loved this. Like, I really don’t react so strongly very often so I’m genuinely mind blown right now.

Akku, you deserve the world. You give everyone so much with your amazing art and you’re such an amazing human being too. You keep challenging yourself and exploring new things and you share them with us because your heart and your love is so big it knows no limits. I think this is one of the reasons I fall in love with your art every single time. You convey so much love and it’s probably bc that’s what you feel too! And you always portray mnchn so so so so well, you really know how to capture their essence and enlighten it which different shades and concepts. I am a huge fan of your work

You can bet I will come back to read this often lmao I loved it so much, so so so so much😭😭😭😭😭 thank you for sharing this with us akku❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

🪥night routine

for my giftee @/lillyandcat (tinkerbell) as part of the minchan secret valentine’s exchange on twt. i hope you have a love-ly day~ 💗

[legends-live-in-memories]

Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary: 

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado: 

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

[yuta-nakamots]

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings -  alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice. 

Taglist - @astroboy-lele​​​ @in-my-neofeelings​​​ || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu​ who unfortunately deactivated. 

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

[blkgirlcafe]

Professor Nasty

Professor! Florian Munteanu x Black! Reader

Warning: Public sex, unprotected sex, cheating, undefined age gap, dirty talking, slight degrading. 

I keep my description of the reader pretty vague, make her how you want, but she black fosho. I am trying to get better at writing from a Y/N perspective, so any constructive criticism is welcomed. 

Thank you @dersha98 for the inspiration and the ending. Thank you love!

University of Munich

Y/N tried to keep her eyes on the slides but it was nearly impossible. She never believed the hot professor stereotype until now. 

Somehow she had gotten her dates mixed up and ended up registering for classes late. Which means all the good electives were taken. Y/N had gotten stuck with the two worst electives one could think of and she was sure to be in for a boring ass time. Public speaking and Romanian literature. 

Public speaking was the worst to Y/N, because well it was public speaking. Every other week she was giving a speech, standing in front of a class of 30. It was nerve racking and she always needed a break after that class. 

Romanian literature on the other hand surprised her. The professor was gorgeous, a man if she ever saw one. 

Talk and built like a brick wall that she would happily run into. She sat up front, eyes tracing his each movement. 

“So reports are due, please pass them up.”

Y/N pulled out the report that she put together less than 4 hours ago after reading the spark notes online. She hadn’t read most of the book, getting bored within the first 4 chapters. 

Everyone knew that professors didn’t read these things, just grazed over and did a length check. 

She quickly passed it forward and began to pack her stuff, last class of the day. Y/N couldn’t wait to get home and watch Netflix. 

1 week later 

A big bright red F was stamped on her paper. Not even a C or D. This would tank her grade in the class which would tank her GPA. 

Y/N waited until the class was empty before approving Mr. Munteanu

Up close he was even more impressive of a man. He was solid built and smelled like mint and firewood. She liked it. 

He didn’t even get her a chance to talk, “Your grade is your grade, stop staring off into space and maybe it could have been better.”

Y/N was shocked not expecting that out of the normally quiet professor. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Munteanu, the book was just really hard for me to get into. Can I try another book? Please?” 

Y/N tried her puppy eyes on him, hoping it would work like it would on her boyfriend. 

“Read the whole book, cover to cover and instead of a 2 page report, I want 4. The highest you can get is a B.” 

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.” 

The way he licked his lips made her look away, something inside her heating up at the thought of his tongue.

“When is it due?” She finally asked. 

“I’ll give you a week, and Y/N don’t tell anyone. I don’t normally let students make up work.”

“I won’t, thanks again Mr. Munteanu.”

Y/N declined an invite to drinks, and lowkey ghosted her boyfriend to finish the paper. Once she got past the first 4 chapters the book was actually good. Lots of drama and sex which she wasn’t expecting. 

She easily typed out a report after and printed it out. Excited to hand it back to him after class. 

Y/N waited silently as Mr. Munteanu read her paper. His tall frame was casually leaned against the desk at the front of the auditorium. She fidgeted in her seat. Having him read it in front of her was nerve racking. 

The paper dipped below his lips and Y/N found herself staring at his lips and how pink they were, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked. 

“Miss Y/N, Y/N!” 

Y/N snapped out her daydream, “Yes Sir.”

“I asked what is your favorite part of the book?”

Y/N chewed her lips, wondering if she should tell the truth. The book had a few steamy sex scenes and they were explained in graphic detail. 

Y/N kind of shrugged, not wanting to answer him. 

“Use your voice young lady.” His voice was stern, making her clench her thighs. 

“The sex scenes Sir, they were just so real.”

One eyebrow shot up on his face. 

Y/N felt her heart speed up, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him. 

“Come here Miss Y/N.” 

On shaky legs she made her way to where he was standing, he picked the book up off the desk and handed it to her. 

“Show me your favorite part.” 

Y/N flipped through the book she was handed. For some reason her hands were shaking, she found the part. 

“This is it.” Y/N squeaked out. 

“Read it Miss Y/N.”

Y/N gulped, praying her voice did not fail her, “ His soft touch sent flutters through her body, this is what it felt like to be touched by a man. An experienced man…”

Mr. Munteanu wrapped a large hand around her hip, Y/N gasped.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yes...please.”

Y/N cursed herself, already begging. Mr. Munteanu stood and Y/N felt surrounded by him, he towered over her, his scent engulfed her. Y/N tilted her face up, to look at him. 

“Tell me you want this.” he barely whispered. 

“I want this sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu crashed his lips on hers, kissing her aggressively. Y/N kissed him back, biting back a moan as he grabbed her ass.  She needed more, wanted more. 

“Please Sir…” she broke the kiss. 

“Please what sweetheart.” 

Y/N wasnt sure what to ask, fuck my brains out sir, use me like a toy sir, do anything you want. The pad of this thumb traveled from her hip to her neck where he gently squeezed getting a moan out of Y/N.

“Don't make me ask twice.” 

“Please fuck me Sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu growled as his other hand yanked at her jeans, not even bothering to unbutton them, pulling them down. 

Cold air hit Y/N wet pussy lips she was absolutely drenched from the little he had done. What happened next happened so quickly, Y/N head was still swirling. She was face down on the hard wooden desk, Mr. Munteanu running a thick digit up and down her slit.  The clink of a belt was all that could be heard over both of their hard breathing. 

“Fuck I wish I had more time.” his thick accent broke her out her spell. 

“Please...I need you.” Once again begging like a whore to be fucked by an older man. 

“Don't worry sweetheart, I am going to fuck you like a man should.” 

His wet tip came in contact with her thigh as he guided the thick cock head towards her entrance. His pre cum mixed with her wetness as he pushed inside her, testing the limits of her walls. 

A gasp left Y/N as his thickness filled her up, a painful stretch that quickly turned into pleasure. Mr. Munteanu pushed until their bodies were connected, Y/N walls fluttered around him, reacting to having such girth in them. 

“Good girl, taking all of me.” he grunted. 

Y/N moaned as he begin to fuck her, slow deep strokes that left her breathless. Y/N let out a loud fuck as he hit a particular spot. 

“Have to be quiet for me baby, can't let them know what I am doing to you.” 

“I cant...It feels so good...please more.” Y/N tried to bite her lip, to keep from getting too loud. 

“You want them to know that you like older men, that you let me fuck and so quick.”

“Fuck Yes, please dont stop!”

“I'm not stopping until I flood that cunt.” 

Mr. Munteanu lifted one of her legs, setting it on the desk, hitting even deeper on each stroke, a tingling that started in her core finally let go, Y/N toes curled as she had her first orgasm, breath hitched in her throat. 

“Look at you, already cumming all over my dick. Imagine if I had you in a bed, the things I could do to you babygirl.”

Y/N head swam with the thoughts, the way he could use her body, she wanted that more than she wanted anything else right now. 

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?”

He knows I have a boyfriend, Y/N though. Mr. Munteanu picked up the pace, slamming his hips into her. 

“Tell me Y/N.” he said through clenched teeth. 

“No Sir, you feel better.” Y/N cried out. 

Y/N was being fucked so hard she swore the desk was moving, not that she cared, her second orgasm was sneaking up on her. 

Moans, skin slapping and the occasional grunt filled the empty auditorium. Mr. Munteanu pulled out, flipping her over before laying her back on the desk. All Y/N could see was him and his extremely chiseled chest. Her ass was pulled to the edge of the desk, her ankles by his ears, thick dick at her wet entrance. Y/N fist clenched around nothing, riding out her second orgasm. 

“Fuck, I am about to…” Mr. Munteanu never finished. 

He flooded her unprotected pussy, something she didn't even let her boyfriend do. He kissed her legs and thighs as he pulled her legs down. 

“I need more.” was the last thing he said as she rushed to put her pants back on and scurry out the door. 

Y/N rushed across campus, she felt like everyone knew what just had happened, she felt like everyone knew that her professor cum was staining her panties. She made it to her boyfriend's apartment, praying he was not there, still at the gym, or at the pub with friends.

The whole way up all she could think was, I just had sex with Mr. Munteanu! In the same class that he taught me in. Y/N was going to have to stare at that desk for the rest of the semester. She got to his apartment and mentally cursed herself, she could hear him on the game already. 

“Babe! Where have you been?” He asked her. 

“I had to turn in that paper and he had me stay while he read it.” Y/N tried to quickly get down the hallway but  Fynn wouldn't stop talking. Any other time he would be so engrossed in the game she could walk around stark naked and he wouldn't notice. 

“I waited on you for dinner though, I am hungry babe.” he whined. 

“Let me take a quick shower and I'll order your favorite.” 

She should feel guilty that her boyfriend was waiting for her to return while she was having the best sexual experience of her life on a desk, with her professor, who was also her boyfriend professor. But all she could think about was two orgasms in less than ten minutes. 

“Why are you walking funny baby?”

Y/N froze in her place, she just got fucked with the biggest dick she ever saw. 

“Sprained my ankle earlier in heels, I need to put it up.” 

Y/N quickly faked limped to the bathroom, turning the water up super high. She set her phone on the counter noticing a text from an unknown number. 

Be free Friday evening -Flo