#we all want more black panther.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Royal Guards

Royals have multiple layers of servants but there is no set of servants most important that their protection. Royalty are never without some kind of protection and palaces are usually guarded to the teeth. So how do we write royal security. This is for @jamie-ties-writing

Recruitment

Royal guards aren't just any person plucked from the street and put into a uniform. They are usually recruited from within the royal army, from within particular regiments across the army (a mixture of calvary, naval, artillery, infantry). The Royal Guard is usually made of of multiple regiments, not just a single one. These regiments would share and rotate duties. The British Royal family are currently guarded by the Coldstream Regiment, Welsh Guards, Grenadier Guards among others. Royal guards will be selected for their skill, sometimes their birth (they may be chosen if they rank higher socially) and of course, loyalty to the Crown. Royal guards were intended to be a show of force, strength, Majesty so they were usually impressive specimens meant to instill some power to their monarch.

Duties

A royal guard's first order of business is the protection of the family. They may have sentry duty around the palace, guarding doors or patrolling palace grounds or corridors. A Royal Guard may be assigned to one member only but most likely they will rotate through the family as needed. Of course, a royal can request a guard to always be assigned to them if they want. They may escort their charge of the day to their engagements. If assigned a certain royal to protect, they would tail them throughout the day. A royal guard may even perform ceremonial duties such as the changing of the guard or riding in coronations or state funerals. A royal guard is expected to remain vigilant but never speak of what they see, they are meant to keep an ear out for threats but never repeat whatever is said, they are expected at all times to uphold a professional countenance and respect protocol. They will be expected to give their lives if needed, and be loyal to the last.

Rank

Royal guards are a military division and rank is a part of their lives. Their supreme commander would he the monarch first but there would be an appointed commander. Depending on how you want to write Royal Guards, each regiment would have it's own captain and leaders. Of course, not all regiments may adhere to the same ranks but this would be a basic outline for you to follow.

Colonel: Colonels actually have no duties, they are more an honourary figurehead. Many members of the royal family would have a regiment to be colonel of. This usually requires nothing more than a ceremonial role, the wearing of the uniform while inspecting the troops for example.

Captain: The Commander of the regiment. They would undertake managerial duties, issuing commands from the monarch, assigning duties, approving the induction of new guards into the Household Division. The Captain would decide who would guard which member of the royal family.

Lieutenant: The Second in command. They will assume command if the Captain is not available. They would take on a large portion of duties and aid the Captain.

Sergeant: The sergeant would be next in command.

Guardsman: The lowest rank. They will have the least experience but usually the most duties. They would be the ones patrolling and standing sentry.

Uniform

Of course, no royal guard is complete without their uniform. Royal guards would have to stand out, especially in ceremonial duties. This uniform would be distinctive, not only because it is a great honour for anybody to be named to the guard but also as mentioned above, to add a layer of might to those they protect.

Notable Royal Guard Units

Dahomey Mino (the inspiration of Black Panther's Dora Milaje)

The Praetorian Guard

The Imperial Guard of Napoleon

The Imperial German Bodyguard

Varangian Guard

Swiss Guards

The Kheshig

The Janissary

The Imperial Guards of Tsarist Russia

The Cossack Guard

Guardia Real

Coldstream Guards

Irish Guards

Welsh Guards

Grenadier Guards

Medjay of Ancient Egypt

Al-Ḥars al-Malakī as-Suʿūdī

Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince

Thahan Raksa Phra Ong

[smuttaburger]

Mommy Issues (Seonghwea Smut MDNI)

Summary: What happens when you're cuddling your boyfriend and without thinking, you make a comment about another member of Ateez?

There is just filth under the cut, so MDNI brb I'm gonna go dunk myself in Holy Water

In hindsight, you never should’ve challenged your boyfriend like this. But god damn it was it fun.

All because of a damn TikTok. That cursed app got you in trouble so much, but what’s life without a little risk?

Nothing at the start of the evening was out of the norm after Seonghwa got off tour, cuddles while he played Animal Crossing and you doom scrolled TikTok.

Not remembering that you weren’t alone after months of that being the case, you spoke without thinking.

“Damn, those poor San stans, fuck!” You couldn’t help the blush that crawled up your cheeks at seeing your boyfriend’s friend get chained up before Wake Up.

“Come again?” Said boyfriend asked, a brow risen above his glasses.

“Nothing baby,” You patted his head, hoping it would help him forget the words that left your lips moments ago.

Spoiler alert, it didn’t.

“No, what did you just say kitten?” You gulped at the tone Seonghwa used. It was the one that he used when he meant business. And if that didn’t give it away, the use of the word kitten definitely made it crystal clear.

You shook your head, not wanting to awaken the possessive side of your boyfriend. 

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you two so he was on top of you, your hands pinned above your head by one of his large hands.

“I think my kitten is being naughty. What do we do when she’s being naughty?”

“Punish her,” You mumbled, not wanting him to hear you.

“I’m sorry, speak up, I couldn’t hear you,” You shook your head. He grasped your chin in his other large hand.

“I said speak up,” His voice deepened as he slipped into his more dominant persona. The one that made you shake and cry for him either to stop or keep going.

“I don’t wanna,” You whimpered.

“Why not?” He demanded.

“Bcause,”

“Because why?”

“I don’t wanna get punished,” You finally gave him what he wanted. So he had heard you right. And from the look in his hard almost black eyes, he had your punishment picked out.

“Pick a number over 5,”

“Eight,” He smiled a little, knowing why you picked that number. He sat you on his lap. His eyes tracking you like a panther waiting for his prey to enter the trap.

“Bend over Kitten,” You obeyed, resting your belly on your boyfriend’s lap with your ass in the air.

“Good girl,” He purred before ripping your lounge pants down your legs, knowing full well that you weren’t wearing panties since you two were originally winding down  for bed after your shower together.

“Count for me,” You nodded.

Smack

“1,” Your voice was clear in his ears, despite the handprint that was starting to become visible.

Smack

“2,”

Smack

“3,” Your voice started to waver a bit as you felt his large hand start to sting.

Smack

“4,” It started to burn now, making a tear leave your eyes.

“You’re halfway there baby girl,” He switched hands as his first hand started to now sting from spanking you as hard as he could.

Smack

“5,”

Smack

“6,” Your voice wavered as the smacks started to reverberate and spread to the place you now needed him the most.

Smack

“7,”

“You can take one more. This is your punishment, not mine. And you picked the number, not me,”

Smack

“8,”

“Good girl,” He slowly started to massage your now cherry red ass.

“You might as well ride me, Kitten. Since you can’t lay back,” He leaned back, patting his lap, where his cock was strained against his gray sweats.

You swung your legs to straddle him, determined to mess with his head and drive him insane.

“Gotta get rid of these,”

“Who’s the boss here, you or me? Huh? Who was the one being a little slut on TikTok. Looking at someone other than me,” He punctuated every sentence with a roll of his hips, the friction on your bare core making your head swim. 

“You, and I was the bad one,” You whimpered.

“Yes, you were being a bad girl kitten. Now for your punishment,”

“You spanked me! Wasn’t that punishment?”

“That was only part of it. Now’s when the punishment really begins.You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,”

“Okay but no using your tongue. That’s not punishment, that’s torture,” he grasped your chin in one of his large hands again, forcing you to lok him in the eyes.

“First off, who made you think you were in charge of your own punishment? And secondly, who said anything about eating that pretty pussy? But now that you mention it,” he got a devious smirk over his plump lips.

Oh shit!

“If it keeps your eyes from wandering, what’s pleasure without a little suffering? Plus I’m starving,” he growled as he threw you onto the bed, crawling up your body, lapping at your legs. As he got to your thighs, he started to suck harder, even biting a bit. At least enough to give you that sweet mix of pain and pleasure that you oh so craved while he was on tour. You moaned as he inched closer and closer to your heat.

Nothing compared to how your boyfriend ate you out, knowing exactly what areas to put more pressure on than others in order to send you to the heavens. Your hands flew to his hair, wrapping it tightly in your face, making a moan leave Seonghwa’s puffy pink lips.

The moans from him caused a vibration to rub on your pearl, making your own moan rip through the air, and your back to arch.

You were only stopped from him putting one of his large hands on your stomach to keep you still. When he introduced his long dexterous fingers to the mix, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Without warning, he stood up, stripping off his own lounge pants.

“I want to feel you cum on me,” He explained before entrapping your lips in a heated kiss. One where he dominated, and you let him. Seeing as you trying to avoid it was what got you partially in this predicament in the first place.

In record timing, he had his pants down, his cock springing free: red and angry from being hard for so long without release. As quick as he was off you, he was back on you, slipping into your damp heat.

With how long he was on tour, you had to take a second to reacquaint yourself with how big he was.

“Fuck Kitten! You’re so tight. I’m almost afraid to move. Almost,” he smirked before pulling your lips into another kiss and rocking his hips. You had to grasp his hair in your hands. You needed to pull on something, and your boyfriend’s silky jet black locks worked perfectly.

“I can tell you’re close Kitten. Cum for me,” He ordered and it was like you were pulled down in the tidal wave of pleasure at his words, not realizing how much you both needed this.

“Atta girl, Just keep listening to me Kitten,” He acted as your lifeboat in the tidal wave, keeping you grounded to your body.

“F-Fuck!” He hissed before you could finally make out his contorted features as he let his own pleasure fill him before filling you to the brim.

Once you both were back on Earth, the first thing Hwa saw was you running your fingers through his silky locks.

“I love you,” You whispered as his eyes fluttered and he could slowly piece together all of your features. The sex hair leading to the look of bliss in your eyes, and finally, all of the hickeys he left on your skin.

You attempted to stand to get water for both of you and some baby wipes to clean up. Except your legs weren’t cooperating.

“Damn Hwa, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a bit,” You giggled and he chuckled, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’ve got you Kitten,” He told you before throwing a robe on and getting the recoup items.

“It’ll make you think twice about looking at San, right?” He chuckled, handing you the water bottle.

“I don’t know, seeing you get all possessive was kinda fucking hot,”

Taglist: @the-princess-of-mischief-1998 @multidreams-and-desires @faeratil

Read the other guys here: Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter eighteen: The Panthers Threat

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 18 | next

Series Masterlist

In-ho stood at the entrance of the VIP lounge, his jaw clenched tightly, and his eyes scanning the room. The VIPs had already gathered, lounging in their lavish seats, most of them clad in tailored suits and intricate masks. The air was thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and the quiet hum of eager anticipation. They were all here for one thing—and it wasn’t just the bloodshed. They wanted something more. Something far more dangerous.

In-ho could feel the weight of their eyes on him as he walked into the room. His presence alone demanded silence. He was the frontman, the orchestrator of this madness. He owned the arena, the games, the people who fought in it—but he didn’t control them. He never had.

Not until now.

The moment he entered, the room fell silent, save for the soft clink of glasses being set down. But In-ho’s eyes were drawn immediately to the man sitting at the center—the panther. The man in the black panther mask, sitting so confidently, so arrogantly. The mask, so pristine and untarnished, barely covering the smile beneath it. In-ho had never trusted him. But now, the panther was testing boundaries. Dangerous ones.

“Frontman, finally,” the panther said, his voice smooth, almost mocking. The air was thick with the implication. “You’ve been keeping us waiting, haven’t you?”

In-ho didn’t respond immediately. His gaze locked onto the panther’s, his expression hardening. He wasn’t going to give this bastard the satisfaction of making him wait.

“What do you want?” In-ho’s voice was measured, sharp. He had no patience for games today.

The panther leaned forward, his chair creaking under his weight. The other VIPs shifted in their seats, their attention rapt. They were all watching. All waiting for the next move. They wanted their entertainment, but this… this was something different.

“You know what we want,” the panther said, his voice low. “You can’t hide her from us forever.”

In-ho’s heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what the panther meant. The tension in the room escalated, and he could feel the heat rise. His mind raced, but he kept his face impassive, his emotions in check. He couldn’t let the panther see weakness.

“No one touches her,” In-ho replied, his voice even but deadly serious. “You get your games, your fights, your entertainment. But you will not touch her.”

The panther chuckled, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Touch her? Oh no, Frontman. I’m not talking about just touching her,” he said, his words dripping with malicious intent. “I’m talking about breaking her.”

In-ho’s blood ran cold. He could hear the underlying threat in the panther’s voice, could almost feel the sharpness of the words slicing through him. But he couldn’t show it. Not now. He had to keep his composure. He was the one in control here.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” In-ho said, his voice a low growl. But the panic—however small—began to bubble under the surface.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” the panther said, his mask tilting slightly to the side as if he were considering the weight of his words. “You’ve locked her away, made her feel safe in this gilded cage of yours. But the truth is—she’s never going to feel what she needs. Not from you.”

In-ho’s fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice thick with anger.

The panther pressed on, reveling in the tension he was creating. “I’m going to break her, Frontman. Slowly. Piece by piece. Mentally. Emotionally. I’ll make her believe that you never loved her, that she’s better off with someone like me. I’ll show her what real power is, what it feels like to be wanted. She’ll beg for me. And when she does, when she realizes what a pathetic lie your love is, she’ll come to me. She’ll see me as her only salvation.”

The words hit In-ho like a punch to the gut, and for a brief moment, his vision blurred with fury. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it show. Not yet.

“You will not touch her,” In-ho growled, stepping forward. His voice was low, menacing. His hands were trembling with rage, but he kept his control. For now.

The panther mask grinned. “But I will. You can’t keep her locked away forever. You’ll see. I’ll break her. And when I do, she’ll understand that only I can give her what she deserves. Only I can give her what you never could.”

That was it.

In-ho moved before the words even registered fully in his mind. His fist connected with the panther’s jaw, sending him flying back in his chair. The room was frozen for a heartbeat, the other VIPs too stunned to react. The impact of the punch reverberated through the air.

“You don’t talk about her like that,” In-ho snarled, his voice full of venom.

The panther mask staggered back, blood trickling from his mouth, but he didn’t fall. His eyes gleamed with rage and, surprisingly, amusement. The bastard was enjoying this.

In-ho didn’t give him the chance to recover. He was on him in an instant, his fists landing with brutal precision. Each punch was fueled by rage—the kind of rage that came from a deep, instinctive place. The panther mask tried to fight back, but In-ho was too fast, too strong. His blows were merciless. He wasn’t trying to kill the man, but he wanted to break him. He wanted him to feel the agony of what he had said, to know the consequences of threatening her.

“You’ll never touch her,” In-ho growled, each punch a hammer blow, each word a vow.

The panther mask’s body crumpled beneath him. His gasps for air were desperate, strained, but In-ho didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He was consumed by the thought of the panther even thinking about taking what was his—what was hers.

The room was dead silent. The VIPs sat in stunned silence, watching as In-ho unleashed his fury. No one dared move. No one dared speak. They all knew that challenging In-ho—especially over her—was a fatal mistake.

Finally, In-ho stepped back. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his knuckles bruised and bloodied. He looked down at the panther mask, barely conscious on the floor. His body was a mess, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. The man’s eyes were dazed, glazed over in shock, but the smirk never fully left his lips.

“You’ll never get to her,” In-ho spat. His voice was low and full of menace. “Not as long as I’m breathing.”

The panther mask’s lips twitched. “We’ll see, Frontman. We’ll see.”

In-ho didn’t hesitate. He turned sharply, walking toward the door, his back straight, his presence still towering over the broken man at his feet. The tension in the room is so sharp that you could slice it with a knife.

As In-ho walked furiously through the halls. Towards his quarters. Where you were hidden, protected by his fortress. He thought of how, even though this marriage was arranged, he would hate if anything happened to you.

He would simply be overcome with rage, if anything happened to you, the person who inflicted any damage would not be alive to even think of doing it again.

———————

Chapter eighteen!! Woo! In-ho is being more protective!! Lemme know what you think! Thank you!

Tag list:

@sunny21200

@lucinda-reads

@shakysif

@whoisbriannaa

@allmylovegoestomusic

@swthrtbyeol

@strawberrychita

@hoddystark

@livelaughcelica

@foulbreadpaenut

@write-from-the-heart

@angelofthorr

@sylviavf

@missroro

@siloveyourmoms

@luv1ze

@audrey223

@khaylin27

@gay4hotmilfs

@mimis-u3u

@captainlunaxmen

@cdej6

@ritaaaz07

@chateaumarmontt

@eepgirls

@ushouldhmhas

@fedstv

@dahliawarner

@fyodorssimp1

@nanamilkbread

@eveie24

@jackbootedfucks

@maiznamai

@r3va-dwme

@queenjang21

@kyohiru

@bibliophile-yomna

@rylin0987654321

@aubs444

@isuejehejehe

@nellabear

@cassielovw

@lowkeyhottho

@yxluana

@riri53

@enhasrii

@dumbfishes

@jeonmochi99-blog

@corne1iast

@kunikuzushisbeloved

@blueeclipsepaperstudent

@luna-looniesblog

@kat-thepoet

@hanakokunzz

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo - Ending 5: "One of Us"

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This is similar to ending 2, but I like how it turned out

The moon was high in the sky by the time you were ready to enter the black panther and white tiger exhibit. You walked along the path to the enclosure, whistling cheerfully to yourself. As you pushed open the exhibit door, your whistle trailed off into silence.

All four halflings stood in front of you, looking grim. Even Malleus, who it usually took a small hike to visit, was present. Silver and Sebek avoided eye contact, but Lilia and Malleus stared at you in silence.

“Are you guys alright?” you asked, heart sinking at their expressions.

Lilia exchanged a look with Malleus before the smaller of the two stepped forward. He looked up at you with sad eyes and you were briefly reminded of a puppy wanting to have some of your food.

“Lilia, what’s going on?” you stepped forward, closing the enclosure door behind you.

Lilia shook his head, “It’s… bad news.”

You felt yourself trembling. You cared about the halflings so much, to see them so upset made you feel nearly heartbroken.

“The zoo,” Lilia said, so softly you had to lean in to hear him, “is planning to send us away.”

His words hit you like a train. You opened your mouth but no sound came out. “Send you away?” you finally managed to ask, “Why?”

“They think we’re too boring,” Lilia whispered, “We overheard the top humans talking. They say our exhibit is expensive to maintain when no one visits us. They plan to separate us and send us to different zoos across the world.”

“No! They can’t do that!” you gasped, “You’re like a family! They can’t just tear you apart!”

“They can,” Malleus finally spoke up, his furry ears pressed flat to his head, “And they will. Unless…”

“Unless what?” you asked, practically begging for an answer.

“You can help us,” Lilia said quickly, hope shining in his eyes.

You shook your head, “I don’t see how. I’m just a researcher. Mr. Crowley wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You’ve cared for us, made this place feel better than home. That has to mean something,” Silver spoke up.

Malleus stepped closer, casting a shadow over you. His emerald eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, “We don’t want to be sent away. We don’t want to lose you.”

Sebek nodded, “We’ll do whatever it takes to stay together, but we need you on our side.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk to Mr. Crowley,” you replied, “I’ll try to convince him to-”

Lilia interrupted you, shaking his head, “Talking won’t work. He’s made up his mind.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” you asked in slight frustration.

Lilia’s eyes met yours, “You’re one of us… you understand us more than any keeper ever has. Surely you could sacrifice your humanity to tie together our family? That’s what the visitors really want to see.”

“One of you?” you echoed, “I’m human, I can’t-”

“Then let me make you one of us,” Malleus interrupted calmly, “My horns have magic, I can turn you into one of us easily.”

Lilia’s hand rested on your cheek, “We can’t survive without you, little one. Stay here, with us and let us keep you safe.”

“You’re sure this would save you all?” your voice came out as a whisper, but they all heard it clearly. One by one, they nodded.

Malleus’s horns began to glow as green as his eyes.

—----------------------------

“Look, Mom, look!” a little girl pointed down at you, “They’re so cute!”

Self-consciously, you drew your tail in, catching the two little white tiger cubs and bringing them closer to you. The twin toddlers giggled and hugged you, gently cuddling against the black panther baby cradled in your arms. 

Your belly was large- you’d be giving birth in a month from now. Whether they would be white tiger halflings or panthers would be a surprise for all of you. The zoo visitors put in votes for their guesses.

Like they’d hoped, the white tiger and black panther exhibit was popular- in fact, it was probably the most popular now that you had little cubs tottering around and looking cute. 

But at what cost?

Silver gently picked up a cub in each arm, “Give Mommy some rest.”

You blinked gratefully at him but didn’t say much. You were tired.

Everyone was happy this way! The visitors, the panthers, and the white tigers. 

Yeah, everyone was happy.

Everyone.

[wutheringheightsfilm]

How do we support Cubans and their resistance to western imperialism

I'm so glad you asked anon! A great way to start is to by actually listening to Cubans and their own stories and news. There are some really good organizations and accounts on Instagram (and many of them have their own publications outside of Instagram, so if you don't have the app, you can still follow what's going on)

Here are the ones I recommend:

@ bellyofthebeastcuba < news outlet that focuses on cuba

@ nationalnetworkoncuba < this is a coalition of many different orgs that are actively working to get the US gov to lift the blockade, etc; they post a lot of actionable things you can do to get involved physically, as well as opportunities for stuff like webinars! here is their website.

@ ratbcuba < this is a british org dedicated to solidarity with cuba

@ caribbeansolidaritynetwork < not strictly cuba oriented, but a network committed to the liberation of all of the caribbean! they also have events like study circles (and you can access their readings online if you can't go in person)

@ ghpartners < this is a nonprofit actively working to get donations in order to send medical supplies to cuba, right now they are working on delivering pacemakers to the island! here is their website.

Other than that, I really, really encourage you to start learning as much as you can on Cuban history and the history of their resistance, as well as their history of working alongside other resistance movements. Cuba worked in solidarity with the Black Panthers, with numerous African countries fighting for their own liberation, with Vietnam, and even more. National Network on Cuba has a really good political education page where you can start that includes a book list and articles list, as well as youtube videos of documentaries. This is a Google drive from NNOC that introduces the concept and history of Guantanamo Bay. There's going to be an Afro-Cuban reading list released on the NNOC site soon, so definitely check back for it.

This is a timeline of the Embargo to help you get introduced to that. This is an article about Afro-Cuban resistance fighters during the revolution. This is an article that discusses the atrocities committed by the Batista regime.

Before you read any of Fidel Castro's work (particularly his famous speech, History Will Absolve Me), read this page first on the history of the attack on the Moncada Fort on July 26, 1953, a year after Batista’s US backed coup d’état. It gives the historical context necessary to read Castro's History Will Absolve Me speech.

This is a PDF of some of Che Guevara's speeches in a collection called Che Guevara Talks to Young People. While the Introduction insists this is not "Che Guevara for beginners" I still think it's a good jumping off point. Here is an interview with Assata Shakur talking about her experiences in Cuba.

I hope this list helps, and of course, it's not exhaustive. I just hope I gave a good enough foundation for anyone who wants to start learning!

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (II)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: the na-baron takes an interest in you

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.8k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

“...humiliating…disgusting…barbaric…”

You flinch as your father’s anger roars. Nothing you do will ever please him. 

“What do you think will be said of me? Of how I raised you?”

“You didn’t,” you want to say. Instead you apologize. Harkonnens are animals you rationalize. They were testing to see if you were prey and you had to show them you aren’t. 

“And in doing so you’ve tainted yourself.”

It’s like a slap. The cut on your hand still stings from the solution they’d scrubbed on it. It had only been a handshake. It was a show of strength. He’d understand that sentiment if there was a cock swinging between your legs. He doesn’t stay to say more, leaving you to nurse the wounds alone. 

A feast is held that night. A welcome to your guests. You're squeezed into a new outfit, one you've been told your father deems more appropriate than the one you’d had chosen. It’s the first time he’s ever taken the initiative to dress you. It gives you no pleasure to recognize the dress as one of his courtesan’s.

“Your dress is lovely,” says the Princess Irulan when she sees you again after the food had been taken away and the party mills about in the Hall. She takes your arm and strolls with you between the bodies. The familiarity between you is striking. She speaks of her sisters, the planet she calls home. You tell her of your studies. It seems you share a fondness for the same authors.

It’s odd to feel her warm smile. There were few women in your life. Maids mostly, though they rotated frequently. A few of the castle’s regular entertainers when allowed. You don’t count the courtesans who keep your father company. 

“Princess,” Paul greets her with a bow, intruding on your talks of taking an excursion around the palace grounds. Those green eyes turn on you and sweep across your form. “My lady, you look stunning.” He takes your hand again and bends to kiss it while you try not to flinch. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Irulan says with more kindness than deserved. “We were just making plans to visit the lake the day after tomorrow.”

The way his face lights up has your excitement plummeting. He’s eager to join. You stay as long as you can stand his conversation. It’s not long. You excuse yourself, claiming the need to check on the rest of your guests, and extract your arm from the princess’. You accept a kiss on your cheek from her before disappearing into the crowd.

You have no desire to mingle more. Whatever consequences you’ll face when your father finds out about you slipping out don’t worry you. His anger would have found something to punish you for anyways. Cool air greets you as you step into the gardens. It’s not your favorite place, but the training yard is too far in this getup. 

“It’s rude to leave your own party.”

Hair raises on your arms, but you don’t turn to the voice. “You have my apologies for my rudeness then.”

“And it is unwise to keep your back to an armed man.”

“What fun is life without a little risk, na-Baron?”

He chuckles at that. There’s quiet footsteps as he paces behind you like a panther appraising a potential meal. You keep your eyes forward. “You and the princess seem to have bonded quite quickly.” He’s been watching you.

“She is easy to be fond of.” 

Shadow swallows you as he steps behind you. Breath ruffling your hair he asks, “But Paul Atriedes is not?” He’s been watching you closely. A fingernail scraps down your bare arm. “Do you resent him for what he’s stolen from you?”

You spin.

The black void that is his smile is wide on his face. Humiliation sears your throat. How many people know of your father’s deepest shame? Feyd-Rautha seems to revel in that silent moment. Your pain brings him pleasure. 

“I must return to my guests,” you say and step around him. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you're prepared. You evade, pull your arms taut to your chest, and dart down the hall as his laugh taunts. The respect you built with the Harkonnens was nothing more than delusion. It doesn’t matter what teeth you bare or claws you present, any show of weakness will be exploited. 

You round a corner and nearly crash into a guard. The same one from earlier. He questions if you’re hurt, eyes darting the corridor behind you. He seems to find nothing. You agree with his warnings now. It’s best you don’t wander alone.

You wake unrested. Images of blackened teeth, slicing blades, and hoarse laughter haunt you into the morning hours. You’ve made the decision to retain a personal guard. The choice in who is easy. 

You spend the day reviewing everything for your coming of age in a couple of days. Your father is supposed to do it, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s tedious but the hours of distraction are welcome. And it gives you reason to decline Paul’s lunch invitation. It’s only when the sun is past its peak that you’re forced to hand over the remaining duties to your grumbling father. The swordmaster demands your time to refine a performance you still can’t rationalize. Who is it for?

Your father? A man who despises any display of femininity from you? The princess? In some attempt at an apology for a marriage that can now no longer be? Or House Atreides? The ones who’d stolen your destiny before you’d been a seed in your mother’s womb? This artistry certainly isn’t for the brutes of House Harkonnen.

The music halts half way through the fourth run. “Your timing is wrong,” the swordmaster says and has you begin again. 

By time he’s satisfied, your legs burn and your patience is worn thin. You can only glower at your guard, Fandral you’ve learned is his name, as he compliments the dance. “I like the story it tells,” he defends. 

“There’s not a story.” You massage the shoulder of your sword arm. The ache isn’t unwelcome, but the cause is frustrating. The time would have been better spent actually training.

“All art tells a story,” he says.

You scoff. “And what’s the story? I go crazy and start fighting air?”

“You can see it that way, but I think there’s more nuance.” He eyes the girls as you hand off the swords as if expecting one of them to run you through. “It’s the story of a girl turning into a woman.”

A laugh erupts from you. It’s a fitting story for your coming of age, at least. He tries to explain his reasoning. The symbolism of the first sword as the first menstruation, the second as the final years of youthful rebellion, and the end is the acceptance of the new role as a woman. You don’t quite believe it.

There’s no dreams of black teeth or the bite of blades that night. This nightmare is of your mother. Her face unmoving. Silent as you scream. She never moves, but she’s forever out of reach. Then she’s gone and you’re left gasping in the dark alone. 

“This is beautiful,” Paul says in awe as he stares out over the lake.

It’s difficult to not let every word out of his mouth annoy you. You remind yourself he didn’t steal anything from you. His mother did. “You should see it at sunrise.”

He tears his gaze off the water. “I’d like that.” He says it so earnestly you feel you’re missing something. 

“As would I,” Irulan says. You turn your head to look at her on your otherside, but her eyes remain focused on the scenery. 

“And I,” the Harkonnen rasps in your ear.

His addition to the excursion had been as unexpected as it was unwanted. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a day by the water. Even now, he’s at odds with the world around him. His stark white skin and ghastly black clothes unsettling out amongst the colors. You doubt he truly wants to see the beauty of first light. 

“Another day,” you say. It’s not a promise. 

You only plan to stay for an hour at most, enjoying a light lunch under your favorite tree, but Paul asks about going out on the lake. There’s only a small canoe available on such short notice, but it’s enough. Irulan has no desire to get on the water and says she’d prefer to ask Feyd-Rautha about the Spice harvesting on Arrakis. You aren’t keen on leaving her with him, but she insists and there’s guards to keep her safe.

Paul tries to play the gentleman and offers you his hand once he’s in the canoe, but he’s unsteady and nearly tips it over. You return his apologetic smile as you hear hoarse, barking laughter from the tree.

He’s inquisitive as you row out of sight. About your studies, arts you partake in, foods you enjoy. He even asks about your favorite color. You try to respond in kind, but he doesn’t leave you much time to catch your breath between answers let alone ask your own questions. It’s frustrating but you smile and bear it.

“What’s that?” 

Blinking at him confused, you follow his gaze. A few meters from the shoreline was a small marble pavilion. It’s overgrown with vines, graying from the accumulation of dirt and grime. You’ve forgotten it was here. It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth when you speak. “Just an old pavilion.”

You let him take the canoe further for a while longer, before turning it back. You don’t look at the pavilion when you pass it again. It’s a relief to come back into view of the others. The canoe floats to stop beside the small dock. Fandral is there waiting, his arm extended. But Paul stands too quickly and the canoe sways. Your hand brushes Fandral’s outstretched one for a moment, but you tilt the other way and spill into the frigid water. 

It's not deep. Once you have bearings you’re able to stand and your head breaks through the surface. You take in a deep, shuddering breath. There’s a commotion beside you. Paul’s head pops out and sprays more water in your face.

Someone’s speaking, but there's a river flowing in your ears that makes it impossible to understand. It's a difficult walk to the dock. Your dress is heavy and the water slows your steps. An arm reaches out to you and you take it to help pull yourself up. 

Feyd-Rautha stares down at you. Not with a smile. There’s no amusement on his face. There's something new in his eyes you don’t recognize. It takes Fandral’s interference to release you from the intensity of his gaze. The guard shrugs off the jacket of his uniform and drapes it around your shoulders.

Irulan frets despite your multiple assurances you’re fine. It wasn’t deep. There was no danger. You’re wet, that’s all. Paul apologizes over and over and over again. “It was an accident,” you say in hopes of appeasing his guilt. You want Paul Atreides to leave you alone.

your thoughts are appreciated!

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next chapter

[p-taryn-dactyl]

l'amour de ma vie

a/n: hi! it's been awhile since i've written for agatha but I though this was a fun idea! kind of an AU? everyone is alive and well, i've taken over. i tried to capture the same feeling of the avenger compound 2012 fanfics bc they have a special place in my heart, but also theres slight 🌶️ in this one than any of the fics i read in 2012

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): science written by someone who barely scrapped by in any type of science class - agatha being agatha - exes to lovers - discussion of a bad breakup - suggestiveness - slight jealous!agatha - top!agatha - slight 'knee thing' - mention of insecurity - slight manipulative!agatha - i love agath's hands, this isn't a warning but a confession -

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader, r is tony's younger sister

prompt: you thought being the sister of iron man, helping your brother not accidentally kill himself in the lab, was the hardest part of your life. turns out, it's keeping your mind objective when your ex is brought in on a mission

The lab was quiet, save the sound of Dummy bumping into tables while trying to feed you a smoothie made from bananas and motor oil, as you wandered around, your mind going over calculations and equations. Tony had mentioned wanting to create a new suit based off of the absorbent energy of the Black Panther and you, being the good sister you are, decided to try and create a prototype as a surprise. Turns out, it was a lot more complicated than you originally anticipated. While Tony was off on a well-earned vacation with Pepper, you spent your nights on the phone with Shuri as she excitedly discussed how she originally made her brother's suit. You thought it was hard to follow Tony when he went on his ramblings about new scientific breakthroughs. Now, it wasn’t as if you weren’t smart, you had a very high IQ, but sometimes it seemed as if Tony and Shuri just understood everything. As you stared at the white board against the wall, smudged questions and equations blurring together, you heard knocking against the windows of the lab. Turning, you saw Natasha and Yelena waving at you, the blonde holding a box of your favorite donuts. Sighing, you signaled JARVIS to let them in, leaning one hip against a table, arms crossed. 

“What happened?” You immediately asked, taking in the slight guilty expressions the sisters wore, super spies your ass. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before the red-head shrugged, plopping down on Tony’s swivel chair. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Yelena took a donut out of the box, sitting on the table you were leaning against, legs crossed as she handed the box out to you. Taking a donut, you raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between your two friends. 

“Guys come on, these are bad news donuts. You only ever get these if it’s my birthday or something has happened? Did you set the laundry room on fire?” You asked Yelena pointedly, remembering the footage JARVIS had sent you two weeks earlier. She gasped, faux offense painting her face as Natasha snorted. 

“You can’t prove that was me,” yes you could, “and fine, yes, we do have news. News that Natasha is just so happy to tell you.” 

Natasha glared at her sister before she sighed, looking up at you. 

“Strange encountered something on one of his last missions, something that wasn’t sorcery but witchcraft.” 

You looked at Natasha, shrugging while slightly shaking your head.

“So? Did he call Wanda? Oh shit, is she hurt?” Worry for your friend clouded your mind before Natasha shook her head, looking away from you as she caught a donut Yelena chucked at her. 

“Wanda is powerful, yes, but she doesn’t have the knowledge required to fully take out this threat. He called in someone known for her magical expertise, after all she’s been around a while.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who Natasha was talking about. 

“No…” You whispered, now fully sitting on the table, eyes glued to the floor as Yelena continued where Natasha left off.

“Apparently, this threat is going to take awhile to understand and Strange has offered her a place at the compound until everything is over. He needs you or Tony to sign off on that and Tony is in Ibiza right now.” 

You just nodded wordlessly, not fully understanding what Yelena was saying. The blonde noticed this, placing a hand over yours. 

“She’s upstairs with him now.”

Your vision tunneled slightly, panic clawing at your throat. Taking a deep breath, you remembered what your job was. 

Protect the people. 

Even if that meant dealing with your ex-fiance, Agatha Harkness.

Your relationship with the infamous witch started out like every Hallmark movie Tony forces you to watch. It was a rainy morning when you ran inside a small cafe near the Avengers Tower, ran straight into Agatha herself. From there, everything was a blur. Now, you’ve pushed the memories away into a box in your mind, forbidden to open. But sometimes you find yourself thinking about the happiness that bloomed in your chest every time you were near Agatha, how your heart almost exploded when she proposed, how happy you were to finally use the wedding book you had made and continued to add to since you were six. Then you remember how Agatha, mere weeks after proposing, started growing distant. Any question about her wedding preferences were waved away with a perfectly manicured hand, claiming that she would be fine with whatever. Her response seemed romantic to you at first, thinking she would just be happy to marry you, no matter the color scheme or the flower arrangements. But then it quickly shifted to her not caring at all. Date nights got canceled, cake tasting was done solo, and you shrunk deeper and deeper into your insecurities. She was obsessed with her own power, constantly chasing leads of witches and wizards who could be easy targets. It all came to a head one night, silently. You remember sitting in the dim lighting of your shared apartment, an anniversary gift from Tony, fiddling with your ring. A glass of wine sat on the counter, untouched but tempting. Agatha had promised to come home at three in the afternoon so the two of you could design the wedding invitations, something you thought could bring her back to you. 

But she didn’t show. 

It was half past nine when you broke, tears pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as they fell to the floor. You cried silently to yourself as you gathered up the markers and papers you had set out, ripping the designs you had happily scribbled down at sixteen. You left the pieces in the trash, glaring at them for a few moments before you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. Then promptly burst into tears once more. You wish you had handled the situation with the grace and dignity of a Stark but no. You put all the wedding stuff in a bin, stuffing in it a closet, then you left your ring on the counter. You didn’t know when Agatha would be back, sometimes she was gone for days, but that gave you some sense of peace. If she showed up as you had finally decided to leave, you probably would have fallen for her spell once again. All your things in the apartment you just left, knowing that you hadn’t fully moved in and, not to sound too incredibly privileged, you could just replace everything you left behind. You still had that key to the apartment, probably rusting away in a drawer somewhere. Leaving should have felt like a weight being lifted but all you felt was pain. The week after you left was filled with silence, you spent it curled up in your room at the compound, being forced to watch movies sandwiched between Natasha and Yelena, Tony joining occasionally. Your brother showered you with gifts of candy and books, doing everything in his power to bring a smile back to your face. Eventually, it worked and now, a year later, you thought you had healed. 

You were wrong.

The elevator ride up to where Strange and Agatha waited felt like time was being stretched around you. Yelena stood protectively at your side, arms crossed as she glared at the elevator doors, Natasha had wrapped an arm around your waist as you had slightly stumbled from the shock. You felt both protected and exposed as the doors opened, Stephen smiling as he realized it was you, his expression growing concerned as he took in the positions of the two assassins flanking your sides. You didn’t blame him, he didn’t know, but some part of you was angry at the innocent gratefulness that was apparent in his eyes. You felt her eyes before you saw her, they pierced into you before moving down to where Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist. Swallowing, you nodded at Nat, silently letting her know you were okay. The two sisters moved to sit on the couch across from where Agatha now stood, her eyes never leaving you despite the looks she was receiving. Clapping your hands together, you refused to look at her, instead smiling at Strange as you painted on the familiar Stark charm. 

“I heard you needed my signature?” It was more of a statement than a question as you held out your hand for the tablet Strange held. He nodded, relief painting his face as you signed the permission form, allowing JARVIS to assign your ex a room. 

“Normally we would stay in Kamar Taj but whatever it is we’re facing seems to target places of high magical energy.” 

Yelena scoffed, her eyes still boring into Agatha.

“That sounds familiar.” 

Agatha finally looked away from you, her expression almost confused until her face went blank as she raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Stephen rocked back and forth on his heels for a second once you had finished signing all the forms, obviously thrown off by the awkward atmosphere. He suddenly snapped his fingers as if he had remembered something, giving you an apologetic glance before explaining he had a meeting with Wong starting in a few minutes. Your eyes widened as he turned to Agatha, formally introducing you and explaining you would show her to her new room. At this, Natasha and Yelena shot up, both offering to instead be the guide. Strange looked both confused and scared, opting to just nod as he walked backwards into the portal he had summoned, quickly disappearing. 

“Guys, it’s fine. I’ll show Ms. Harkness to her room.” 

Your friends looked apprehensive, like they would rather swallow a wasps nest than let you be alone with the witch but thankfully they stood down. You closed your eyes as you turned around, heading back towards the elevator, beckoning for Agatha to follow you. 

Time to face the music.

Once the doors to the elevators shut, you focused all your attention onto the screen in your hands, hoping to ignore the way Agatha was staring at you. You heard her sigh before the elevator stopped suddenly. Thinking you were at the right floor, you took a step forward only to be face to face with very closed doors. Confused, you turned to finally face Agatha, finding her eyes slightly glowing purple, same as the emergency stop button. You opened your mouth to ask what was going on when suddenly you were pushed up against the wall, purple magic pinning you down as Agatha stood inches away from you, arms trapping you and one leg in between yours. Her eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before they snapped up to yours, 

“Is this where you’ve been?” You heard a slight tremor in her voice, breaking her illusion of strength. You didn’t respond, your words stuck in your throat as your body reacted to being close to Agatha once more. She didn’t seem to care about your silence, continuing to speak. 

“You look very comfortable here, especially with that assassin.” She spoke with a sneer, her hands moving to now cradle your waist, her grip tight as her thumbs slipped under your shirt. You blinked, absorbing her words before you unwillingly let out a small laugh. She tightened her grip, her hips now practically flush with yours. 

“Natasha is just a friend, I’m not-” You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from justifying your personal life with the person who had torn apart your heart. Agatha leaned in close, her nose brushing against your jaw as she kissed your neck softly, causing you to gasp. 

“Not what?” She prodded, her breath hot against your skin as her tongue traced up your neck before she lightly bit your ear. 

“Agatha…” you sighed, your hands now resting on her shoulders, as if you were debating whether or not to push her away or pull her closer. Her teeth bit hard into your neck before she kissed over the spot, her knee now pressing up against your core. 

“Answer me, Y/N.” 

This was exactly why you didn’t wait for her to come back to the apartment that night, you crumbled too quickly under her hands. 

“I’m not with anyone, especially not Natasha, she’s like a sister to me.” 

Agatha nodded slightly before she leaned her forehead against yours, one of her hands fiddling with the elastic of your sweatpants. 

“Have you been with anyone since you left me?”

Her words were accusing yet tinged with slight fear, worried about your answer. You hesitated before you shook your head, embarrassed at how pathetic you had been after you ended the relationship. Sure, people offered and you tried a few times but always chickened out before anything could ever happen. 

No one was like Agatha. 

Your ex smiled, lightly bumping her nose against yours. You felt your own lips quirk slightly before you realized the position you were in. She was here for a mission, not to fuck you against the walls of an elevator. 

“Agatha-”

Before you could finish speaking, Agatha's lips crashed against yours, immediately establishing her dominance. The kiss was deep, her tongue battling yours before she pulled away, her teeth pulling at your bottom lip. Her hands left your waits, instead now cradling your face. She smirked at your expression, your eyes glassy and your mouth hanging slightly open. Her thumb rubbed your cheek as her other hand brushed a hair out of your eyes. You allowed yourself to bask in the peace of the moment, reminiscing about the time when Agatha sent butterflies ablaze in your stomach. It was quickly ruined, however, by Agatha’s next question which hit you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Why’d you leave me? No note, no explanations, just your ring on the counter and cancellations of our wedding vendors. I thought you loved me, Y/N.” Her last words were almost a whisper, like she hadn’t fully meant to say them outloud. You felt the sharp pin pricks of tears, hurriedly blinking them away, averting your eyes from Agatha. You shook your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping from your lips. 

“Agatha, what’s done is done, we don’t need to-”

Her hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her, to take in the icy fury that was ablaze in her eyes. 

“No.” Her voice was firm, commanding, as you both examined each other’s expressions. “No, I need to know what I did.” 

You didn’t know why, but those words opened the floodgates, both of your tears and your words.  

“It’s what you didn’t do Agatha! You were never there, you didn’t give one shit about our wedding, about planning our life together. Power is your true love, Agatha, and I’ll be damned if I’m just a rebound,” You took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that were blurring your vision and falling down your face, “You were bored of me, Agatha, I understand that now but by god, you could of just told me instead of stringing me along and single handedly crushing my dreams!”

Agatha looked shocked, the anger disappearing from her eyes, now replaced with something akin to despair. 

“Is that really what you thought? Still think?” 

You bit your lip as you nodded, heart about to explode in your chest at how intense this day had become. Agatha shook her head, leaning so her head now rested on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. It was silent for a moment before you felt the atmosphere shift, Agatha’s hands making their way into your pants, her experienced fingers rubbing your clothed clit as she whispered into your ear. 

“I guess I have to prove you wrong.”

a/n: plz don't hate me i wrote this in two hours and i have to get up early tomorrow or else this fic would be wayyy longer and would probably banish me to self isolation bc i think im ovulating. is that tmi? who cares. ik this wasn't the best but thank you for reading! im sleep deprived

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

It's time y'all.

Let's talk about HOBIE & RACE

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would display black solidarity by finding black women in specific attractive.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would possibly like a partner who could understand his experiences with racism.

- It is not problematic to say he would possibly like a partner who understands how to take care of his hair, or shares the same hair texture.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would find beauty in features specific to the black race - when we have been told those features are undesirable in every way for centuries.

We gotta talk about how Colorblindness is forced on Black Characters - Hobie in Specific

Y'all - it's time we have a VERY VERY overdue conversation about Hobie Brown and Race.

Because it is a necessary one.

Hobie Brown, The Black!Reader, & Representation -

aka Black people are not Colorblind - and neither is Hobie Brown -

[let Diane hop on the mic right quick Chile]

Stop acting like Black Fictional Characters would be colorblind.

Black people can't be colorblind, because our color is weaponized against us from birth. We HAVE to see race - because we have to protect ourselves and know our own history

So when we decide to make spaces specifically for us - spaces where black people and black women in specific can be desired and uplifted, I don't see why people have a problem with it.

Hobie Brown loves, yes. But he also lives in 1978. Racial segregation was outlawed in his country in 1965.

Hobie Brown loves, but he's also a black guy who grew up under racial segregation and racism. He's a black guy who fights cops.

The Writers made Spiderpunk - The Spiderperson who fights oppressive cops - black for a REASON.

The Writers chose to have a black guy save Miles for a REASON. To uplift black people.

Writers here on Tumblr made Black!Readers black for same reason.

If Black Lives Matter doesn't mean White Lives Don't Matter -

Then 'Hobie Brown finds black chicks especially attractive' DOESN'T mean 'white women are unattractive'. This isn't about y'all.

And even for the people that say Hobie would like ONLY black people - okay??? They can say that - it's a literal headcanon.

It's not true if you don't want it to be. You don't have to believe it.

But seeing Black people be protective of a black character, and making black content for other black fans - and then saying 'what - stop that. that's wrong. break this up so I can join'

BEFORE you question why they do it - NOT COOL.

That's like asking for more Captain America in Black Panther. Like ?????

That's like hearing a Riot Grrrl say 'All the women to the front!!' and going 'Uhh, all genders are equal, why can't the men stand in the front too?'

Like yes, all genders are equal. But also - This isn't about them. It's about representation.

Stop preaching equality when we're asking for representation.

Cause there are dozens, hundreds, of white characters who only have white on-screen romances.

And their fandoms do not write black!readers. They do not care enough to say 'oh the show isn't representing this, let us do it.'

The media nor the fandom represent black women. They are an afterthought, always.

And you never see posts for them like -

'Dean Winchester loves black women. Dean Winchester loves latinas -'

When it's a white character only dating white women, with xReaders that always imply whiteness, y'all never call for diversity. At all.

You wouldn't make this post for Miguel.

But when it's a black character and someone suggests they only date black women, or people begin to write xReaders that imply blackness instead of your default-

Suddenly you care about diversity.

Because the first time, you're not represented.

Because let's be honest. Let's be real. No one is writing Hobie x White!Reader. Barely anyone is writing Hobie x Latina!Reader.

It's the Black!Reader you have a problem with. Let's just say it.

Allow black people to have their space, without unfairly calling for 'diversity'.

(aka the right to access to black safe spaces, comfort characters, and labor)

Hobie is an attractive, educated black guy who fights and protects people from the aggressors we ourselves genuinely fear everyday.

He is a character like we've never had before. He has so much emotional weight to us.

Let us enjoy him as we please. We aren't hurting anyone else.

We're just not catering to you. We don't have to.

If a black person wants to center Hobie's love on Black people, they have the right.

And I'm not saying you can't write him with a race neutral or even a White!Reader. Go ahead and write that if you want but just know-

1) If you want to write him with an explicitly white or non-black reader - you should approach the topic of race. You should approach and mention the cultural differences. Him going through racism. Don't erase that because you think it makes your writing ugly or sad.

And if you don't put it in, your erasing the reality and black experience because you find something wrong or uncomfortable about it.

2) If you want to write a race neutral reader - make sure they're really race neutral. Don't include details about hair texture, hairstyle, or skin color.

3) If you are asking black writers for requests - do not get mad if they make the request Black.

You cannot get mad at a black writer for interjecting their own experience when writing about a black character. You're basically asking them to strip their blackness from their writing so you can enjoy it more.

Why should they have to second guess and dial back their blackness when we're expected to do that everywhere? If they want to take a break, and write Black!Readers they can.

3) Understand that the black people are going to keep their safe spaces. And they're going to keep Hobie in their corner.

Because honestly, and I'm going to put this brazenly:

Hobie Brown as a character - and what he represents - means more to black fans than it does nonblack fans.

Does that mean he doesn't matter to y'all? No, not at all. Hobie absolutely holds real emotional weight and meaning to you on multiple levels.

But please understand, for black people - we connect to Hobie on an emotional, often trauma-fueled front.

One that you'll never understand.

There is a level that we connect with him on that nonblack people can't. As a dark skinned black guy, a black guy with natural hair, an alt black guy,

As a black guy who has canonically faced police brutality on-screen

To you, this screenshot is most likely Hobie flipping the camera off, edgy and punk. It's funny, tongue in check. ACAB and all that.

To us, this screenshot is of Hobie - a low income black guy - being physically restrained by police and refusing to stop even when they're taking his mugshot. It's a black guy openly flipping off the police and fighting them off and refusing to go down no matter how much they beat him and he's winning YES

After so many videos over SO many years of cops doing that to black men and them.. not winning.

And them just dying and us having to watch. And add another name to list.

When you see his laces, you most likely think ACAB.

When we see his laces, we see that he's a black man who took on a cop and lived to tell the tale. Which is a RARITY.

Because many of them lose the battle.

For us, the context and connection are completely different.

Fanfiction may just be a way for you to kiss up on random characters or comfort yourself, but for us - that's not the case.

For us, fanfiction is a way to show our experiences and features in a media and world that has collectively ignored them. Shunned them, called them ugly.

Maybe make a post or send an ask to a creator - and ask what Black!Readers mean for them, why they find it important.

Hobie Brown likes Black Girls.

He finds them beautiful. He likes wide lips and broad noses and kinky hair. He loves melanin, and brown skin in the sunlight, and seeing a them in a silk bonnet in the morning.

He loves not having to explain his culture, sharing coconut oil and shea butter. He likes seeing waist beads. He likes people who speak AAVE, with twang in their talk.

He likes ghetto black girls with the acrylic nails. He likes Stallions 6 foot tall. He likes masc girls. And fem ones. He loves black nonbinary people because we do not have to cosign to colonialist ideas of gender. And he loves him some black men too - a good fade will make him go crazy, he loves men with long locs and pretty smiles.

Hobie Brown finds the beauty in Black People that have been erased and demonized again and again by White Society.

Hobie Brown holds blackness dear. And he wants black people to do well.

Hobie Brown loves Black People. Hobie Brown loves Black Girls.

And that's on, what?

This has been a PSA from Diane Pastors. Y'all stay blessed out there 😌💗

Anyway what y'all wearing to carnival since we going to carnival and cropover and labor day with Hobie and bringing out all the flags. 🇧🇧🇧🇧 I'm bringing him to cropover in Barbados yeah I said it we're all going to carnival with him.

[httpkaulitz]

kiss me again

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Tom isn't ready to give up on you.

WARNINGS: kissing, fingering (f reciving), public

A/N: I wrote this in the morning while waiting at the hospital so it's kind of shit

You regretted getting so dressed up as soon as you discovered that the bonfire party was actually a cheap imitation of your old school party.

Young drunks were scattered throughout the forest. Even though the place isn't exciting, the music isn't that good and you aren't excited at all. Peter was good company, you had managed to talk about all kinds of topics with him.

And to your surprise, you found yourself genuinely interested in getting to know him better. And he was being a good distraction after the fight you had with Tom.

You knew from the beginning that you two would never be more than friends, that was evident, he never wanted a relationship. He wasn't that kind of guy.

But you chose to delude yourself, you chose to believe that he could be different from what the media showed. Your mistake.

After a while of sitting just talking, he leaned over and kissed you. Soft lips enveloped you in a calm yet passionate rhythm and you couldn't help but compare it to Tom's kiss but still you walked away smiling.

"Wanna Dance?" He asked looking at the people moving to the rhythm of the music.

You laughed, realizing that he didn't like the party either, but that he was trying to enjoy it. "Sure." You responded, getting up and walking with him closer to the other people.

Within minutes, what was supposed to be just a dance turned into a fervent make-out session. Peter's lips seemed to travel all over your neck, returning to your mouth every now and then. Everything seemed wonderful, but it was as if something was missing. And as horrible as it was to admit, you knew that something was actually someone.

You were so caught up in your desires that you could feel his energy nearby. You could feel it. Damn it! You thought, opening your eyes. You watched the figure standing in a far corner on the other side of the fire. Even from afar, the imposing and intimidating posture could be seen. No matter how far away he was, you knew he was watching you.

Peter's hands still pass over your body, leaving gentle squeezes in strategic points. It was almost shameful that Tom's presence could make you more excited than Peter's caresses. You noticed him walking towards you.

"Would you get me a drink?" You asked in the most normal voice you could muster and slowly walked away from Peter.

"Of course, baby." He responded by kissing you before pulling away.

Walking away from people wasn't a good option, but it was better than risk being caught with Tom.

"You shouldn't be here." You said, still facing away. You didn't need to turn around to know that Tom was behind you.

Despite the soft, almost silent footsteps, you could feel him approaching. His presence was like a wave of energy that caressed your skin, leaving you hot and uncomfortable.

"Lately you've been telling me what I should or shouldn't do so many times, it seems a little possessive, don't you think?" He said, sounding confident again, unlike two days ago when you two had fought and you had left him alone.

You turned to look at him and felt your heart skip a beat. Black was definitely his color. He was almost mesmerizing using the coat and the black jeans.

"I thought I made it clear that we were done." You pointed at the two of you with discomfort written all over your face.

It wasn't like you two were ever together. You were never really in a relationship with Tom.

He smiled looking at his feet for a moment before looking back at you. "Don't act like you're not happy to see me." He said slowly walking closer to you.

You watched him expectantly, he was like a panther with soft steps and an engaging rhythm.

"Are you insinuating that I want everything that's happening?" You asked, letting out a giggle clearly mocking Tom.

"I'm not implying anything, I'm stating it." Pinning you against a nearby tree. You let out a squeak of surprise when you felt your back hit the rough surface.

"Admit it to yourself." He said, smiling mischievously when he noticed the panic in your eyes.

"Not here, Tom." You asked, knowing full well what his true intention was. It was like an engaging dance he used to seduce you, but you wouldn’t let it happen again.

"Then admit it." His hands went to your lower body, he gently caressed your skin just below your navel.

You bit back a moan and felt shivers run down your spine. It was shameful how quickly your body responded to Tom's touches.

"I wanted it when I thought we could have something serious, but now it's over!" You responded, trying hard not to let the doubtful tone show in your voice.

"Liar." He whispered hoarsely looking into your eyes.

His fingertips dug into your dark blue jeans and lightly rubbed the lacy material of your panties. You felt your hips jerk and heat instantly pooled between your legs. The suppressed moan finally came out muffled by the lips you insisted on keeping closed.

"That's right, silent. We don't want anyone to hear how loud you moan." Tom's hot breath hit your face. A mixture of alcohol and mint that was almost mesmerizing.

Unfastening the rest of the missing buttons, Tom skillfully moved the pink panties to the side. The moment he moved his fingers between your soaked folds, pressing two digits into your entrance, you gasped and began to move your hips forward to get every inch of his fingers inside you.

Tom smiled pressing his fingers even deeper and slowly moved his thumb to stroke your clit. You sighed audibly, your legs shaking and your head spinning. He continued to explore every inch of you, felt the walls around his fingers tighten in your orgasm.

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning and held Tom's shoulders tightly, seeking balance.

"It's hard when you really want to do something and you can't, isn't it?" He asked smiling, watching you closely, your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed. "That's how I feel when you keep denying me what I want."

He sped up the movements of his fingers, holding your waist against the tree so you couldn't move.

"Tom... stop." You whispered in a moan, feeling your body burn with desire.

You wanted to be able to grab him, kiss him, even if it was wrong. Damn, this was all more than wrong, you were in a damn forest letting Tom touch you like that, even after saying he would never touch you again. None of this should be happening.

The skillful and insistent touch on your pussy made your legs increasingly tremble. You were ready to scream when you felt Tom lean in and silence you with a rough kiss that was quickly returned.

You sighed in frustration when he walked away, removing his hands from your pants and taking two steps back. Still dizzy, you wanted to scream at him for stopping you from reaching your second orgasm.

"What is it? You asked me to stop." Tom asked, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth. Your flavor was surprisingly delicious with a hint of citrus. Better than anything he's ever tasted before.

You heard Peter's voice next to you and saw him walking towards you.

Tom approached you again. "I hope your little friend makes you feel as good as I do." He whispered leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before pulling away.

You took a deep breath watching Tom walk away while Peter approached with a confused expression. You knew you had nowhere to run cause Tom wouldn’t let you go that easily and deep down you didn't want him to let you go.

[hannie-dul-set]

YOURS TO KEEP.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x female! reader. g — college! au, exchange student! ricky, fluff, very very lightly angsty. w — swearing, alcohol consumption. kdrama references and misquoted quotes. 3.2k words.

note — dreamt of ricky. vomited out.....ricky as ur cute bf who behaves like a cat and whose favorite forms of cross-cultural exchange is receiving headpats and watching kdramas. only 2 scenes are actually inspired by my dream 😭 if someone guesses which line/s were extracted directly from my dream, i'll reward u with a gyuvin drabble how about that 👍

you picked up a cat from the university’s foreign exchange program.

however, he did not come in a box. he came in a louis vuitton tracksuit and balenciaga sunglasses, which very much caught you off guard when you came to meet him at the admin building, and you greet him after mustering the courage to finally walk up to the cat’s imposing presence. “h—hello! are you perhaps shen quanrui?”

he takes off his sunglasses, meets you with a pair of pretty swoopy, pretty eyes, and says, “oh. yes. are you my owner?” 

you pause. you’re taken aback because that...that doesn’t sound like the right word. “ah, um. i’m the person assigned to help you around the campus and the city for the semester, yes! it’s nice to meet you!” but you brush it off because of language barriers and all. his mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when you tell him the correct term.

“oh, sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you say. “hope we get along!”

quanrui tells you that you can just call him ricky, and gives you a small smile. one of many that you’ll be graced with for the duration of the semester.

“i’ll be in your care.”

your new cat is a little intimidating at first, clad in all black at all times. the night you helped him first settle into his dorm, even his pajamas were reminiscent of an abyss— like a white ragdoll trying to disguise itself as a panther because you later find out that he’s actually a really sweet, really polite, and really clingy cat.

“um. knock, knock.”

you look up from your laptop, ricky in a long leather coat hesitantly peeking out from your half-open bedroom door (you gave him a copy of your apartment key. your cat needs a way to get in by himself somehow). he texted you earlier, asking if you can help him out with an essay, and you assume he’s right here right now for that very reason.

“do you have your paper?” you ask, closing your laptop. he nods and lifts up his ipad, showing it off. you have a very cute cat. you scoot aside and pat the empty space on your bed, and ricky comes padding in, mattress sinking when he settles beside you, making sure to maintain a respectable enough distance and hands you his device with the google doc open.

“oh. i marked the parts where i’m not sure about my vocabulary,” he mentions the moment a yellow highlighted part came up on the screen. 

you give it a once over. “i think this is right. yeah, you did good.” when you turn your head, you’re met with a pair of proudly sparkling eyes. you stifle out a laugh. “what? do you want a head pat for that?”

“maybe i deserve one?”

you let your fingers sink into the fluff on the top of his head. again, he’s really sweet, really polite, and really clingy. but maybe a little too clingy sometimes, especially when he finally got a lot more comfortable around you.

comfortable enough to hiss at your friends.

“oh, you signed up as a student-helper for the exchange program too?” hanbin asks after seeing you walk in the classroom with ricky in row, trailing behind you like a shadow. 

“yeah, i can’t miss the extra points prof choi baited us with.” you nudge ricky with your elbow, noticing how tense he is all of a sudden and how he’s looking at your senior with a bit of a glare. perhaps he’s threatened by another feline presence.

“nice to meet you!” hanbin greets with a bright, an arm outstretched before you, meant for ricky, but he keeps tucking himself behind you with his hands fixed on your shoulders.

hanbin has his hand left unshaked for five seconds too long now. you nudge him again. he won’t budge.

“ah, ricky is still a little shy!” you exclaim, trying to salvage the situation by grabbing hanbin’s hand instead with both of yours, swinging it around, left and right. you’re lucky your senior is so easygoing. he laughs along with you and says of course, of course, he totally gets it, merrily swinging your arms together back and forth. “he’s still not that confident with his korean. right, ricky?”

“keep holding her and i’ll claw your eyes out.”

you freeze. you leer back at ricky shen, giving him your what the fuck are you saying look? he maintains his stance, tugging you back by the shoulders. you twitch out a smile and try your best to defend your clingy and jealous cat. “ahaha. he’s picked up some weird things from all the dramas he’s been watching,” you say. “sorry about that seonbae! we’ll get to our seats now!”

“haha, it’s alright! nice to meet you ricky!”

“what was that?”you snap back at him the moment hanbin leaves the premises. all ricky does is shrugs and steadies his hold on your shoulders, aiming your body somewhere and he starts making you walk to the back of the classroom— far, far away from where hanbin is sitting.

your cat is a little weird sometimes, sure. gyuvin finds him entertaining enough though. they play tennis every weekend, and ricky started picking up even more weird things from him and all the rest of your friends that you’re starting to think they’re not very good influences.

case in point—

“if you drink this, we’re dating.”

the grape juice he poured into your paper cup nearly spills over from shock. you look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed, cheeks burning and heart racing because what the hell? “seriously, where have you been learning these things?” 

ricky looks satisfied for eliciting that kind of reaction. he pours himself a paper cup of grape juice as well because it’s a weeknight, and you have a quiz tomorrow, and getting wasted is off of the table, so you two settled for juice and chips on your living room floor to relish in your academic misery.

“jiwoong hyung and gunwookie recommended me some movies for me to watch.” he sets down the juice bottle after screwing the cap shut, and you fear the other movies those two gremlins recommended him come from a list of top 50 movie pick-up up lines to woo an unsuspecting victim. next thing you know, he’s gonna invite you to have ramen at his place or go see freaking butterflies with him. “i just watched a moment to remember earlier. my pronunciation is getting better, right?” 

ricky is looking at you with his eyes all big and his lips all pressed together expectantly. he’s waiting for your praise. you feel your chest swell. the grape juice feels heavy in your hand. gosh, he’s such a needy cat. a needy cat that deserves all the praise in the world.

“yeah. i’m proud of you. c’mere.”

you leave your cup on the table to focus on more important things— that is, giving ricky his well deserved pats on the head. you don’t recall how your relationship with him managed to get this far, still remembering how intimidated you felt when you first met him. now he’s on your living room floor, head laying back on your couch with a drama playing on the tiny laptop screen settled on the coffee table, both of you barely paying attention because he’s looking at something on his phone, and you’re gently rubbing his head as you reply to some messages on yours.

“ah, gyuvin is seriously annoying,” you complain. “he’s trying to get me to join his club. coding club he says, when i’m pretty sure he’s just starting it as an excuse to play games on campus.”

“are you going to join?” he asks, bumping his head against your palm when you stop giving him scratches.

“mm, i don’t think so.” you set down your phone to pour all your focus into satisfying your needy cat’s attention requirements. ricky lets out a satisfied rumble when set his head down onto your lap, raking your fingers through the tufts of his hair as he lets his eyes flutter to a close. “i’m already too busy this semester to bother with those things. maybe next time if he’s that desperate to fill in the member numbers..”

“yeah,” he mutters. “you’ll be too busy spending most of your time with me.”

your fingers stop moving.

ricky looks up at you, confused as to why you stopped petting him, and you’d eat him right up if you could. but you can’t keep your cat for too long. it’s only a matter of time before you get your last opportunity to coddle him like this, to shower him in unabashed affection disguised as friendship because the exchange program is temporary, and he’s returning back to china at the end of the semester.

so why is he raising your hopes up if he’s just going to leave anyway?

“i meant my acads, silly,” you say, picking up your untouched juice cup from the table, feeling the weight of the drink slosh around the paper cup as you let it hover in front of your lips. 

he’s raising your hopes up and you’re letting him. you know this is gonna end in a disaster.

still.

“but if you put it that way—”

the sharp taste of sweet grapes hits the back of your throat, swallowing down the lukewarm juice that’s been sitting since ricky poured a cup for you. if you’re gonna crash down at the end of this, might as well crash down from two thousand feet above the ground. 

“are we dating now?”

you set the cup back down on the table, gaze flickered down at ricky, whose face is flushed in surprise one moment— easing into understanding the next, and he props himself up from your lap, reaching out for the back of your neck to pull you into a sugary tart kiss.

yeah, you think, feeling the softness of his lips brush against yours, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks when he pulls you in even closer. if your time with him has a deadline, might as well make the most out of it.

“i was disappointed when you didn’t drink it the first time,” he says, drunk on sweet juice and the feeling of your mouth against his. “jiwoong hyung said that line was effective.”

“can you not think about another man when i’m kissing you?”

he lets out a laugh, “‘m sorry,” then presses a fluttering kiss on your temple, tip of your nose, until his lips meet yours once more at last. “let me try again. ahem. i like you. i don’t need a rainbow.”

“you got the line wrong, baek yijin. try again next time.”

if he’s going to leave anyway, might as well make his departure as heart wrenching as all the dramas he’s so fond of watching.

“looks like our friend here got more than just extra credit for volunteering to help out the exchange students.”

you look up from the stack of papers on your table, only to have more dropped off by taerae with a thunk. hanbin, gyuvin, matthew and ricky are also loitering around the classroom— not that they’re helping you and taerae check the test papers your profs asked you to grade as a favor. at least the constant yelling and arguing and meowing noises(?) are making things a lot more lively.

“congrats, you lucky bitch,” he says.

“you sound like you want to covet my cat,” you raise a brow at him, adding the new set to your pile as taerae grabs a new stack as well.

“your cat for this mutt,” he points his thumb at matthew, who’s currently tucked in the to answer an evaluation sheet on taerae. ricky’s doing the same evaluation about you, somewhere. you’re not sure where your cat went, but he’s probably just around. “are you perhaps open for negotiation?”

“matthew isn’t a mutt. he’s a cute golden retriever.”

“well, your cat doesn’t seem to appreciate you calling someone else cute.”

taerae swerves off to reveal a pouting ricky. he’s got his arms crossed, the evaluation sheet folded in between the fingers of his right hand, and you have to hold back a laugh. “did you finish my evaluation?” you ask.

“i did, but i wanna redo it now. negative points for you,” he protests, but lets you snatch the paper from him anyway. you scoot your chair to the left to give him some space next to you. he grabs an empty armchair and nudges his nose close to your face when you start reading his note at the bottom.

“mid-semester evaluation. my student-helper is very acommodatimg. she has been helping me adjust to korea very well. you spelled accommodating wrong, angel.” 

“i did it on purpose to test you. good job. you pass.”

you roll your eyes, free hand absentmindedly reaching out for the top of his head, and you hear ricky let out a noise of satisfaction. “she always answers my questions and is…very pretty and smells nice,” you set the paper down. your cat is looking at you expectantly. “ricky, i don’t think you can submit this.”

“why not?” he asks. “professor choi said to be as honest as possible.”

your cheeks grow warm.

gosh. this makes things even harder knowing your cat has to leave eventually.

“what did i tell you?”

the convenience store lights need to be replaced soon, you note. it keeps flickering intermittently against the dim night— reminiscent of how you’re feeling right now when you called jiwoong out for a few drinks two weeks before finals, but you’re not depressed because finals are near. you’re wallowing in tear stained sniffles because the exchange program will be over soon, meaning you only have two weeks until ricky has to pack his bags and leaves.

“not to get too attached because he has to say goodbye eventually,” you lament, a puddle of soju burning your lips. jiwoong looks at your pathetic state with remorseful sigh.

“and what did you do?” he says.

“got too attached and now i have to say goodbye to him eventually.” you groan and swallow down a shot. you’re about to pour yourself another, but jiwoong pulls back the bottle— maybe your third one of the night, you’re not sure— away from your reach, and pushes you a plastic bottle of water instead. 

“you just had to go ahead and start dating him like an idiot,” he cracks open the water for you when you don’t do anything with it. he pours it in a shot glass, and you take the bait, drinking down the water, eyebrows furrowing when it doesn’t burn your throat like you expected. “maybe if you tell him to say, he might listen to you.”

you let out a gasp. “i can’t do that! that’d be so selfish of me!”

jiwoong can’t do anything to help you but share your miseries tonight. he simply sits in silence, waiting for the owner of the number he texted a while ago to make an appearance, and listen to your drunk ramblings at eleven in the evening.

“i miss my cat. i haven’t seen him the entire day because he says he had things to do with hanbin and hao.” you’ve melted into the table. high pitched whines aside, he’s surprised you’re still coherent at this point. “bring me back my cat. i miss him so much. i miss my cat. i miss my ricky. i wish he’d never leave me.”

jiwoongs eyes flit up. “looks like your cat misses you too.” he pulls himself up from his chair and picks up his jacket from the backrest. “took you long enough.”

when you tip your head back in confusion, wondering who the hell jiwoong is talking to, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the upside-down face of the cat you’ve been missing.

“ah,” you sound out. “you’re here.”

“thanks, hyung,” ricky settles a hand on the top of your head. you blink. now you understand why he liked headpats so much. “i’ll take care of her from here.”

this is eye opening. you feel your eyelids growing heavier as ricky continues to massage your head, his and jiwoong’s faraway voices talking about something, something you can’t really hear, until jiwoong waves off, and it’s just you and ricky in front of the quiet flickering lights of the convenience store entrance.

you hear yourself whine when ricky’s hand disappears from the top of your head. “you should’ve called me if you missed me,” he says, circling from behind the chair to being in front of you now. he crouches down, settling his crossed arms on your lap, and he looks up at you with his pretty swoopy eyes. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i need to get used to you not being around even if i miss you,” you say, letting your fingers sink into the soft strands of his hair.

ricky lets out a questioning hum. “why wouldn’t i be around?”

“because your deadline is near,” you grumble. “i have to return you to where i first picked you up, but i don’t want to. but you have to. this sucks so much.”

you’re still saddled with insobriety, and the fact that your sweet cat isn’t purring like usual when you’re patting his head is making your bottom lip quiver and your eyes sting because you fear you might’ve said something wrong. “aren’t you gonna ask me what i did today?” he simply asks. you suck in a wavering breath and swallow a lump in your throat.

“what...did you do today?”

“hanbin hyung helped me settle the requirements for my transfer” ricky lands a gentle hold on your wrist and brings your hand down to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. it’s warm. “i’m going to continue attending here. hao hyung is too.”

you blink at him. “w—what?”

“i don’t have to leave. you don’t have to keep missing me.” he brings your hand down palm to the front of his lips, pressing a kiss into your palm. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m yours to keep.”

it takes you a moment to register ricky’s words, so you stay there for a while— sitting frozen in cold silence until the warmth of his messages finally settles in to thaw you out. oh, you think. “oh,” you repeat out loud, voice wavering. ricky hums out a smile at your reaction. he rises, pulling you up to your feet, and you stumble into him.

“i think i know the perfect line for this moment,” he says, steadying a hold on the small of your back. “what was it? if I don't see you, i get upset. If you're depressed, i get curious. something like that?”

“it’s the other way around, dummy.” you sniffle. “why do you keep quoting nam joohyuk?” 

“because he’s cool,” he says. “let’s go watch start-up at your place once you’ve sobered up.”

the cat you picked from the university’s foreign exchange program is clingy, sweet, and is for some reason obsessed with quoting the dramas he’s been watching. he keeps an arm around you when he walks you back to your apartment after grieving over his departure, only to kiss you with the news that you don’t have to return him any time soon.

YOURS TO KEEP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[imtryingbuck]

Conversations During The Night

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. Platonic!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: this popped into my head when I was about to go to sleep so I wrote it. And that is the summary.

Word count: 1,164

Warnings: fluff. Steve being confused as hell.

Masterlist

It was probably the easiest mission the three of them had been on. The three super soldiers against the world Bucky and Steve heard on the jet going to their location and once more when they succeeded said mission, the words coming from their female companion.

Y/n had been injected with the super soldier serum when she was twenty two and was the Winter Soldiers partner on missions, when Bucky managed to escape he made sure that to take her with him. He knew that she would have been tortured or worse if she went back to the base without him.

When Steve found them in the rundown apartment that they called home in Bucharest, he was shocked that not only did he have to fight off one super soldier but two. He remembered the way Bucky’s voice cracked when Y/n had been kicked in her stomach knocking her in to the wall by the Black Panther, or how she stood protectively in front of Bucky when he had guns pointed at him.

Y/n had received a full pardon as she was fully willing to cooperate with SHIELD and the government, giving them all the information that they needed. But only on the grounds that Bucky received the same thing otherwise she wouldn’t talk. She didn’t even flinch when they threatened to send her to the Raft if she didn’t comply, she in turn folded her arms saying Bucky’s name.

Because of how desperate they were they ended up agreeing with her demands.

After Shuri deprogrammed the Winter Soldier program, Bucky and Y/n went back to New York and joined Steve and the rest of the avengers.

“Y/n-Buck tell your girl to slow down” Steve says from the backseat gripping the door handle for dear life as she sped down the road.

“She knows what she’s doing don’t worry” the brunette laughed from his seat in the front.

“Would you like me to slow down Steve?”

“Please!”

“Okay. We’re here by the way” she looked at him through the rearview mirror and smiled, unlocking the seat belt, opening the door before jumping out of the car.

Steve got out and went inside to get two rooms for them whilst Bucky and Y/n stayed outside to get their things from the boot. They watched as the dark blond come out shaking his head clutching a key. “They’ve only got one room available but it’s got two beds”

“Y/n you’re sleeping in the car-ow I was only joking” Bucky chuckled pressing a kiss to her forehead. “That’s fine, what room are we in?”

“Eight.”

“I’m going to get some food for us all, what do you both want?” Y/n made the mental note of the boys orders, placing a kiss to Bucky’s lips she got back in the car and sped off.

“Please promise that you two don’t do anything tonight” Steve begged unlocking the door to the room they’ll be occupying for the night.

“We won’t”

“I was traumatised last time”

Bucky barked out a laugh remembering that night when they last shared a hotel room, both him and Y/n were in the middle of “doing the nasty” as Steve called it, and him running out of the room just to come back in to get the car keys so he could sleep in the car.

Stevie wasn’t a happy bunny the next day.

Y/n got back from the diner with several bags of hot food and a tray of drinks. “They asked me how many people I was feeding” she laughed. It wasn’t their fault that they needed to eat food enough to feed a small army.

“How many did you say?” Steve laughed too going straight for his drink.

“I said three then smiled but they didn’t believe me so”

As they ate they talked about how the mission went and when Tony would be sending them the jet so they could get back home. Being the perfect gentlemen that they were they let Y/n shower first, then Bucky and finally Steve.

Sleep came very quickly to the three of them, the long day finally catching up to them all.

“Did you know that? I bet you didn’t” Steve woke up to the sound of Y/n talking, glancing down to his watch he frowned at seeing the time was three fifteen. “Did you know that?” Frowning when he didn’t hear Bucky’s response.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“How come you’re not sleeping?”

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m a dragon”

Steve lets out a quiet laugh as he didn’t want to wake up Bucky. “Sure you are”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“The sky isn’t actually blue”

“What? Yes it is”

For nearly an hour Steve and Y/n talked, sleep no longer seemingly their main goal now. Steve now sitting up against the headboard listening to his friend ramble on, he found it remarkable that Bucky hadn’t woken up to their conversation.

That was until the brunette start to stir.

“Steve? Who are you talking to?” Voice laced with sleep.

“Y/n”

Bucky looked down at the woman in his arms and laughed. “Jerk she’s asleep”

“No she isn’t, we’ve been talking for over an hour now”

Bucky looked up at the ceiling seeing Steve sitting in his peripheral vision laughing once again, sitting slightly up so that the blond could see what he had the pleasure of seeing every night. “See, she’s fast asleep.”

“B-but we’ve been talking”

“She sleep talks-“

“I’m a mermaid”

Two sets of blue eyes snap towards to the sleeping woman in the bed. “I forgot to tell you, sorry”

“Now the conversation we were having makes sense” Steve muttered feeling stupid about having a conversation with someone that was fast asleep. “Why didn’t you wake up earlier?”

“I’m use to her sleep talking, it-it actually helps me sleep better when I hear her voice” Bucky shrugged.

“Does she know that?”

“What that she sleep talks?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah she does”

“Does she know that it helps you sleep better?” 

“No. Now go back to sleep” Steve watched as Bucky placed a lingering kiss to her forehead as he slowly moved his arm back under her neck and moving her body closer to his. “Night Stevie”

“Night Buck”

Once everyone was awake and ready to go to the location where Tony said the jet would be meeting them, Bucky told Y/n about her late night conversations she was having with Steve.

“It’s not funny, I honestly thought you was awake!”

“What was we talking about?”

As Bucky drove he listened to Steve telling her their talk from a few hours prior, a small smile on his lips listening to the two people closest to him laughing.

“You said you was a mermaid!” Steve finally tells her making all three of them burst out laughing.

All three knew that they would all happily follow the other wherever the wind took them and that’s why they were the three super soldiers against the world.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty seven: Disappear Without a Trace

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 27 | next

Series Masterlist

The Panther Mask had disappeared.

No one spoke of it. No one dared.

The night had continued as if nothing had happened. The music played, drinks were poured, and conversation resumed in hushed murmurs, but beneath the surface, the weight of what had transpired still lingered. The guests knew better than to ask questions. They knew better than to acknowledge what had become of the man who had been escorted out under In-ho’s orders.

Because in this world, when the Frontman decided someone was no longer welcome, they did not return.

And the Panther Mask was no exception.

The air was different down here. Heavy. Stagnant.

It was cold, too—not the crisp, fleeting kind, but a deep, lingering chill that settled into the bones, creeping beneath the skin like a parasite. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead flickered inconsistently, casting fractured shadows against the concrete walls. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaching.

He was on his knees now.

Not by choice.

His wrists were bound tightly behind him, the restraints cutting into his skin. The mask that had once given him power—his identity—had been ripped from his face, discarded somewhere in the darkness. He could feel the sting of a split lip, the dull ache of bruises forming beneath his skin. But he forced himself to breathe steadily, to hold on to the remnants of his pride.

He had been in situations like this before. He had been the one giving orders, standing above those who knelt before him. That was the cruelest part of all. He knew exactly what came next.

The footsteps stopped.

A shadow loomed over him, the presence behind it suffocating in its stillness. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

In-ho.

The Frontman stood before him, silent, unreadable. His black mask revealed nothing, his stance betraying no emotion. The weight of his gaze was enough to make the Panther’s stomach coil with unease.

Seconds stretched. Then, In-ho finally moved—crouching down so they were at eye level.

The Panther Mask swallowed, forcing himself to meet that cold, unyielding stare. “This is a mistake,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “You know who I am. Who I work for.”

In-ho tilted his head slightly. Considering. “I do,” he murmured, his voice quiet, deliberate. “That’s precisely the problem.”

Something inside the Panther twisted. There was no anger in In-ho’s tone, no theatrics. Just a certainty that chilled him more than the cold concrete beneath his knees.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, licking his lips. “I—”

In-ho reached forward, gripping his chin with gloved fingers, tilting his head just slightly. The movement was gentle. Almost.

“You touched what was mine.”

The Panther stiffened. His breath hitched for just a second. That was all it took.

A slow exhale from In-ho. Then, without a word, he released his grip and stood, taking a step back.

The Panther forced out a breath, relief flickering for only a fraction of a second—

Then he heard it.

The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

His body locked up. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. He clenched his fists behind his back, forcing himself not to flinch.

“This isn’t necessary,” he tried again, his voice steady despite the panic creeping into his gut. “We can talk about this. You don’t want to start a war, Frontman.”

A brief pause. Then—

In-ho let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.

“There won’t be a war.”

A beat of silence.

Then a gunshot rang out.

The Panther’s body jerked. For a moment, he felt nothing. Then—warmth. A spreading heat in his chest. His breath stuttered as his mind tried to process what had just happened.

No.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

He gasped, his body sagging forward as his vision blurred, the edges darkening. The cold of the room began to seep deeper now, pulling him under, swallowing him whole.

The last thing he saw was In-ho, standing above him. Silent. Still.

Then—nothing.

And just like that, the Panther Mask ceased to exist.

By morning, there was no trace of him.

No body. No whispers. No rumors.

It was as if he had never been there at all.

———————

Yippee! Another chapter posted!! Literally fell asleep while writing this last night lmao. Lemme know what you think!

Tag list

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[soniclozdplove]

I want to express my thanks to @quitealotofsodapop for helping me out by beta reading this part for me!!

Wukong glowered, eyes boring into the darker furred that was smirking, all teeth as he crossed his arms.

"And what are you doing here!?" Wukong growled, fur now standing twice his size, giving the impression that the creature in front of them were a lion and not a monkey. Despite this, the black furred monkey was unconcerned, grinning at Wukong, all teeth and eyes shining in amusement and something almost soft?

"Oh, nothing much. Just watching you." The Macaque taunted, moving with the grace of a panther as he approached the irate king. With every step closer, Wukong took two back and his fur puffed up in anger even moreso. Tripitaka gripped his staff tightly as his eyes began to glow red, a sure sign that Wukong was truly angry. Why, he had no idea, but he had a feeling he may have misjudged his earlier belief that Wukong and the shadow monkey may have been close.

"Will you back off!?" Wukong eventually barked, tail slamming against the ground in frustration as he tried to darting around the shadow monkey, Macaque following behind st a leasurely pace, "I've told you to get lost!"

"Now, why would I do that!?" Macaque actually purred, clearly amused by the King's outrage, "This mountain belongs to me as much as it does you, remember?"

"If you're just here to taunt and mock me, you can go! I have more important things to deal with than your nonsense right now, Macaque!"

"Oh? Like what?" Macaque chuckled, pointing a thumb towards where the pilgrims were standing, "You mean these losers who got themselves lost in time!?"

"That and also a bunch of... of other stuff! Important... Monkey King... stuff!" Wukong snapped back, aounding entireky unconvincing. "So it would GREATLY please me if you can get lost!"

"Hmm... I don't think so." The Macaque disappeared into his shadow, appearing from Wukong's own, leaning on an elbow on the slightly smaller monkey, looking rather smug at finally ending his game of cst and mouse with the king, "We need to talk about what your doing!"

"What!? No! We are not going to- not while my Master and brothers are right there!" Wukong growled back, pushing him off, only for Macaque grabbed at Wukongs wrist, pulling the other demon close, glowing purple eyes meeting red and gold.

"Fine! Then we'll go somewhere else, then. I'm sure your 'precious Master' can manage to get to your house without getting himself kidnapped!"

"What!? Mac... don't you dare- MACAQUE!!"

Whatever Wukong was going to say next suddenly tapered off as a shadowy portal appeared beneath their feet, pulling both monkies through. The remaining pilgrims glanced uneasily at one another. Eventually Wujing broke the silence with a cough.

"Should we... go after them?"

"Nah." Baije snorted, quite thrilled with himself as he snickered, "Wukong's got it handled. 'Sides, I make a point to stay outta lover's quarrels. Never know what sort of mess you'd walk into!"

"L-lover!?" Tripitaka choked at his student's words, looking at the pig in a mix of horror as Ao Lie simply seemed to consider the words before nodding sagely.

"A fair point, Brother Baije." The dragon prince complimented, "Best to leave the monkies to their courting. Based on Brother Wukong's reactions they're still quite early into it."

"A-Ao Lie!?" Tripitaka questioned his youngest apprentice, scandalized. The dragon looked unapologetically as he simply stared his master in the eye.

"Is it not obvious, Master?" The prince questioned, "The Six-Eared Macaque was clearly approaching Brother Wukong with the intent to rile him up. That's quite clear courtship behavior I've seen amongst demons."

"Oh yeah!" Baije crowed in mirth, "That was a courting dance if I've ever seen one! No doubt the two are off somewhere rolling in the grass!"

"I imagine it'd be difficult, being a pig and all, Zu Baije..." Ao Lie sniffed, "But don't be so boorish! Proper courtship is more than just physical desire!"

"C-can we not discuss this!?" Tripitaka stammered, "What on earth makes you think that Sun Wukong and that monkey are... are..."

He couldn't bring himself to say it. He had never even considered such a thing between men possible, but to learn his own pupil is being courted like that. And by a monkey who had threatened him not long ago!

"Surely it can't be so... you're fellow pupil had been far too irritated by his companions presence for such feelings." Tripitaka said, moreso to convince himself than anything. Baije actually gave another snort of laughter, shaking his head at that.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Master..." the pig explained, "But thay sorta reaction is normal in courting, especially early on."

Wujing, bless his soul, looked just as confused as Tripitaka at ther sibling's words as Ao Lie continued to giggle incessantly. Seeing their blank expressions Baije shrugged.

"It's a demon courtship thing. Demons are attracted to power and tend to take what they want, so fighting and bickering to rile each other up is a common thing, especially for higher powered demons. Never imagined Wukong would be the one getting courted, but I can see why someone might want to steal him as their mate. He's a very strong demon." The pig explained, "Curious 'bout why the dragon knows, though."

"There were a few small water demons who lived in my riverbed with me." Ao Lie shrugged, "Plus dragon customs aren't too different outside of the royal family. And like I said, I already knew the two had been close. Our Wukong had told me about Macaque, remember?"

"Why would he tell you?" Wujing asked, relaxing a bit at the reminder that this figure is someone known to Wukong even back then.

"I spend the majority of my time as a horse." Ao Lie simply said, "Wukong has a tendency to forget that I'm not a real horse and sometimes rambles to me about his troubles because horses are good listeners."

"Huh." Now that Tripitaka thought about it, it truly was easy to forget the white steeds who carried him was a dragon. Ao Lie was very good at acting in character for his role. A gale blew past, reminding Tripitaka that they were on an impossibly high clifftop, "Perhaps we can continue this conversation later. Ao Lie, do you think if you transformed into your true self, you could carry us down to Wukong's home?"

"I'd be glad to!" The dragon preened, transforming into his much larger, more powerful form that has the benefit of being able to fly, something sorely needed, "I should be able to fit all of you on my back if you hold on."

"Don't strain yourself, my friend." Tripitaka scolded lightly, "Although you and Wukong are the strongest of our numbers, I haven't forgotten that you are still considered young amongst dragons. Best to make multiple trips."

With the ease of a flying dragon, they were indeed able to make it to Wukong's hut in short order, only to find that the two monkeys were already there. Apparently "somewhere else" had been the tree next front of Wukong's hut, as when they approached it they found the two beneath the boughs of the tree, or rather, Wukong asleep beneath them with his darker counterpart guarding the king's rest with a fond, exasperated air about him that only faded when he noticed their approach. MK was also present, loudly snoring as he leaned against Wukong's other side.

"'Bout time you made it." Macaque quietly scoffed when the Pilgrims reached them, eyes still locked on the golden monkey who only let out a small squeak and nuzzled closer at the disturbance, soundly asleep. "Have a good gossip session?"

"You-" Baije exclaimed, only to freeze as the Macaque pinned an icy glare at him, gesturing towards the king and his apprentice. The message was clear, if they woke either of them, there would be hell to pay. Baije cleared his throat before repeating himself in a whisper, "How did you know we were talking!?"

"They don't call me the Six-Eared Macaque for nothing." Macaque replied as the fur near his ears seemed to shimmer and suddenly where one pair of ears were now rested three pairs of brightly colored petal like ears, "Sensitive hearing is kinda my thing. By the way, what me and Wukong do or don't do when we're together is really none of your business."

Baije paled as he realized that the monkey had heard everything they had spoken about, including his crude comments about the pair. While the pig demon was stammering excuses, Tripitaka took the time to simply settle in near the pair and meditate, taking stock of his student. The injury on Wukong's face was cleaned and bandaged, he was relieved to see, and the monkey looked far more relaxed than he could ever recall the demon ever being. On top of that his fur looked much more neat and silky, as though he'd recently cleaned it. MK too was wearing a cleaner outfit and his his face and hair free of dust and debris.

"How was your conversation?" Tripitaka asked, curious about the events that transpired after the two monkies left.

"Same as usual." Macaque scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I told Wukong he was being an idiot, we argued, so on and so forth."

"You two fought?" Tripitaka blinked, not so surprised considering Wukong's reactions to the other monkey earlier. "Whatever for?"

"MK, as usual." Macaque grunted, "I think you taught him a little too well about peace and kindness or whatever it is you buddhists preach. Wukong's gone soft, and it's affecting his training with MK."

"Is... is kindness really a bad thing in this case?" Tripitaka stammered, shocked at the venom with which that Macaque spoke of his religion, "I watched Wukong training his student and it seemed that MK was very receptive to it."

"Yeah, you think so?" Macaque questioned in return, "The moment MK realized Wukong was still holding back even after everything that's happened and saving the world on several occasions, he got frustrated and lost control! Wukong's holding back and hesitating to push MK further in his training. If he doesn't start doing better as a mentor, start taking MK's training seriously, it's going end up either giving MK a complex or hurting him! Probably both!"

"Why would you tell me about all this?" Tripitaka finally inquired, "I am quite certain Wukong would not like you talking about this to me."

"Because you need to know!" Macaque told him, exasperation bursting through, "You're the reason he's like this! You and your teachings turned him into this... weakling who's so scared of confrontation that he chose to hide away for hundreds of years rather than face someone head on! When I came back into Wukong's life, I had to trick him into coming out by threatening MK because he was holed up in his tiny hut behind some magic barrier!"

Stunned by his outburst, Tripitaka could not find the words to address what the dark monkey said. Instead, Wujing asked to his defense.

"That's no fair." Wujing explained, "It's been thousands of years, how could Wukong's changes be solely our master's responsibility? Wukong is his own person, making his own choices."

"YEAH!" Baije nodded along, "This Buddhism stuff is about peace, love, and pacifism... but just because Master took a vow not to bring harm to anyone doesn't mean Wukong has to follow it!"

"You... you think you haven't hurt anyone?" Macaque's voice became cold, the quiet now turning dangerous as his eyes began to take on a violet tint, "That you're innocent!?"

Ao Lie, Wujing, and Baije positioned themselves protectively around the monk, sensing Macaque's rage beginning to reach a boiling point.

"Macaque... please let us be try to under-" Ao Lie reached a pleading hand out, hoping to calm the monkey down."

"No! You need to listen to me and listen close!" Macaque snapped, fangs bared as his magic sparked around him, the shadows begining to exend around him towards them like the claws of a great beast, only to retreat back to him when he glanced down. A golden tail and pair of arms had wrapped around his wrist and waist, Wukong having shifted in his sleep, curling closer to the other monkey. The anger seemed to flow from Macaque like water as he took a deep breath, calming in the face of the Monkey King's unconcious affection. When he met Tripitaka's eyes, he still held anger in his eyes, but now thay anger was tempered by a deep heartbreaking sadness.

"Do you know he has a scar under that glamour he wears?" The words hit Tripitaka like a slap in the face, the Macaque's voice rough and emotional, full of so much rage he struggled he wa visibly shaking and Tripitaka was certain that had Wukong not been using him as a pillow, tail and arms curled around the larger monkey, the demon would have attacked, "That you used that mantra you claim to only be in the defense of yourself and others so much and so often that you placed a permanent scar on him that's still not healed thousands of years later!? Does that sound like 'not bringing harm' to you!?"

As if to prove a point, the Macaque waved a hand across Wukong's still sleeping face, and the golden monkey changed right in front of him. His fur became more wild and had white streaks through it, his hands rougher with sharper claws, and Tripitaka was certain that had Wukong's eyes been opened, they'd be a burning red and gold. Most damning of all, however, wete the scars! They littered his students body from top to bottom, with the msot gruesome one of all being a circular one across his forehead in a horrifying familiar shape, as though someone had tightened band around his head in an attempt to crush his head for so long it left an permanent mark.

Tripitaka was speechless.

[talkingparrotkee]

One thing I like about MCU Shuri and also think several people sorely get wrong is that she's the more cool-headed character. She is slower to shout, panic, and anger, being relatively more laidback. Shuri would rather wall up and bury herself in her lab (M'Baku confirms this at Ramonda's funeral, and we see her doing just that in the beginning) before lashing out.

Even Ryan described how T'Challa was more hotheaded to T'Chaka's diplomat, while Shuri was the more cool and laid back one to fiery Ramonda.

We see it in her clothing styles.

We see this in the way she initially approaches things. Two key instances:

The way she first responds and confronts Namor. Shuri is still on defense at the river, but she is less combative or reactive compared to Ramonda. Shuri more quietly assesses and responds to him. Compare this to Ramonda, who immediately fires back and disregards what he says without even checking if it could possibly be true, to which Shuri has to point out some truths by empirical evidence (i.e., Ramonda dismissed him saying only they had vibranium, Shuri gently nudges her, saying he's covered in it, so that cannot be the case). A similar thing happens when she is down in Talokan with Namor. Throughout it all, Shuri kept a leveled head and bit back her tongue to think of solutions, even when things started turning south. She knew how to shut up as well rather than argue him down more (something not many people know how to do).

The way Shuri tried to extract Riri compared to Okoye. For starters, Shuri did not break into bathrooms or bring spears in Riri's dorm - she blended in and used the door. She did not make threats and give an ultimatum either. Shuri just tried to explain the urgency to Riri and draw her out without the use of physical force.

We also see it in her reactions with other characters.

In the first movie, she tells T'Challa to "calm down" when he shouts at her to drive. We also see her not care to fight T'Challa for the mantle, even if it is her birthright (she just wanted to go home and get out of a particularly uncomfortable corset). Instead, she prefers to fight alongside and as support.

Black Panther: "The Black Panther lives. And when he fights for the fate of Wakanda, I will be right there beside him."

Black Panther 2: "I was not trying to save the mantle mother, I was trying to save my brother."

For another example regarding her interactions with characters from Wakanda Forever, Riri is consistently depicted to be the more anxious and is more inclined to lose composure. Shuri, even when she's stressed or overwhelmed too, is often the one to remain composed. Shuri attempts to calm Riri down so she doesn't have a panic attack. Shuri also didn't reply when Riri started snapping at her about the FBI, only calmly working about and mapping out an escape plan.

One last particular example is with Okoye. Shuri is less quick to be defensive or shout compared to Okoye. We see it in the way Okoye commanded her to get in the car, and rather than shout back, she simply uttered quietly, "Why are you shouting at me..." Shuri didn't reply to Riri snapping, but Okoye did not let anything slide, pointing the finger back to her. During this entire exchange, Shuri was quietly observing before cutting in, saying how they needed to work together to get out of their situation.

Black Panther Wakanda Forever was her later in-character out-of-character. In other words, that unrivaled anger and snapping you saw was never her baseline. She's not an angry or vengeful person. That was the point of Ramonda, "Show him who you are," when she was hesitating killing Namor.

It was the result of her character at a breaking point. Shuri was not coping properly and dealing with frustrations she couldn't see her way out of. Shuri was struggling with spirituality. She was trying to know if her family was truly still there. She was trying to find the reason behind her failure and loss. Shuri already began cracking since T'Chaka died (see: Wakanda Files). T'Challa's death just broke her, with her narrowly holding her pieces together.

[helvegen-s]

crossing lines | prologue

index

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC

Summary: In the dizzying world of Formula 1, where speed and competition dominate every second, Carlos Sainz Jr., a young Spanish driver with undeniable talent, struggles to find his place amidst the pressure and expectations. Livia Visconti, heiress to an Italian fashion empire, moves with the same determination in a universe of elegance and power. Two opposing worlds, two strong personalities, an inevitable clash that will ignite a spark between them. But in a world where image and success are everything, can they risk it all for a love that defies the rules of the game?

Warnings: explicit language, agressive behaviour, themes of manipulation...

Livia Visconti was no stranger to a party. Not at all; throughout her life, many had told her she was born for it. To blend into the crowd, to seduce, to get others to do what she wanted. To be a femme fatale.

And in that Monaco nightclub, she felt right at home, in her element.

The air throbbed with electronic music and the scent of expensive perfume. Livia Visconti, draped in a black dress that clung to her skin like liquid, glided through the crowd at the exclusive Monegasque club like a panther in the night. Her target: Carlos Sainz, the Spanish Ferrari driver, whose attention—and connections—she needed to secure the future of Casa Visconti.

She found him in the VIP area, surrounded by friends and admirers. With a calculated smile and a glass of champagne in hand, she made her way through the crowd until she reached him.

Taking a brief moment, she donned her infallible mask: the businesswoman, the heiress of one of the most exclusive luxury brands on the continent. Then she prepared to do what she had come to do.

“Carlos Sainz, right?” she asked in a seductive voice, placing a hand on his arm.

He looked at her with disinterest, his green eyes reflecting boredom. He brushed her hand off with a subtle but firm gesture.

“Yes, and you are...?”

“Livia Visconti,” she replied, extending a hand he barely touched. “A pleasure.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmured, without taking his eyes off his phone. He knew exactly who she was.

Livia wasn’t intimidated. She sat down beside him, crossing her legs with deliberate provocation.

“You’re even more handsome in person,” she said with a feline smile, her eyes roaming over him from head to toe.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, intrigued in spite of himself by her boldness.

“And you’re even more arrogant than I’d heard,” he replied, finally putting his phone away.

“I just get straight to the point,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “I like you, Carlos. And I think we could have a lot of fun together.”

He studied her with distrust. There was something in her gaze that unsettled him—a mix of ambition and calculation that made him uneasy.

“I’m not interested,” he said coldly.

Livia let out a laugh that sounded slightly forced.

“Don’t be shy, Carlos. I know you like me. Everyone does.”

“Don’t get it twisted,” he said, leaning back on the sofa and creating more distance between them. “I’m not that easy to manipulate. Especially not by someone like you.”

“Manipulate?” she repeated with a feigned pout. “That’s such an ugly word. I just want to get to know you better. To explore that... fire you carry inside.”

“I’m not interested,” he said again, his tone full of disdain. “And I’m especially not interested in exploring anything with you. You’re the kind of woman who’s only looking to climb the social ladder. I bet you don’t even know who won the last Grand Prix.”

Livia straightened up, offended. Her smile disappeared completely.

“The season was won by Max Verstappen—his third Drivers’ Championship and Red Bull’s sixth Constructors’ title. The last race of the season, at Yas Marina Circuit in Abu Dhabi, had Verstappen on the podium, followed by your teammate Charles Leclerc and George Russell in third.” With every word she spoke, Livia watched Carlos’s expression shift. “Idiot. You think you’re above everyone else.”

“And you think everyone else will always dance to your tune,” he shot back, meeting her icy gaze with his own. “You only care about men with money and fame. Gold-digger.”

“Gold-digger?” she let out an ironic laugh. No, she was beginning to lose control of the situation. “At least I know how money is made, unlike you, who just has to drive in circles,” she retorted, venom dripping from her voice.

“And at least I don’t have to sleep with anyone to get what I want,” he replied with a cruel smile.

Livia slapped him. The sound echoed through the silent VIP area, drawing everyone’s attention. Carlos stood up, furious, but she stopped him with a gesture.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Livia said, standing up abruptly. She had lost the opportunity completely. “A pleasure, Carlos.”

Taglist:

@smoooothoperator

index

[accio-victuuri]

bobo the piggy. 🐽 + cpns

i think it’s about time to make some kind of compilation about this aspect of the fandom. mainly because xz seems to be attached to it lately. this characterization of him is more of good natured teasing and endearment — nothing derogatory. i know there is a negative impression when someone is a “pig” but that’s not the case at all with yibo. it’s more of the cute side, and to represent that “soft side” of yibo when he’s not on lion or panther mode.

a huge part of this is mugui laoshi’s bobi character that everyone loves and why it’s really stuck with the fandom. who wouldn’t love that cute character? in the same way that yibo also has that cute side to him we all adore.

let me start first with yibo and his connection to the “pig” title. with him being known as the Little Golden Pig in c-ent. i’m getting this one from Baidu:

"Little Golden Pig" is a nickname for entertainment star Wang Yibo. This title comes from his extremely high popularity in the industry. With great influence, he is regarded as one of the top artists. The commercial value is so high that in the activities he participated in such as Weibo night or YH Family concert. Using his name the prices of related products will rise rapidly. Therefore, he known as the "Little Golden Pig" in recognition of his achievements in the business field.

TOTALLY AGREE. <3

other instances of this association:

• videos of him with pigs for your pleasure ( trying to be friends with one and this show actually had him rapping to this pig lol and feeding a pig at DDU )

• the miniso collab doll that is supposed to be yibo is a cute pig.

• he once wore Nike shows that’s called Pink Pig.

• the fact that we associate Pink as being his other favorite color and how he seems to associate that with romance.

• that viral pig meme that danced to Wugan 😂😂

• meme/expressions of him sometimes used by fans where he looks like a pig.

i bet there is some more, but i will stop here cause i know people ( and me personally ) want to move to the cpn side of things already! the first one will have to be PEPPA PIG. something that started within the crew and has somehow evolved into being about wangxian — and by extension — yizhan. ( some cpns here here and here )

• this video by BYS ( by your side ) of a behind the scenes clip when xz called wyb a pig. that’s it, in the video he calls his attention by shouting “pig” and then asks him to catch the sword and then they proceed to their usual banter.

• there is an lrlg rumor where xz was talking about a piggy nose. i think he really fixates on that. and the way xz says it, you can see that it’s good natured teasing. then wyb compares him to a black pig.

• his pig drawing, but it is doing a finger heart sign. a pose wyb was fond of at some point.

• the book xz was photographed with “The Maverick Pig” by Wang Xiaobo. i mean, look at the cover and the name of the author. tho we know that xz loves to read a variety of books and this one seems interesting.

and there was an lrlg rumor where it looked like wyb was reading a letter by xz to him. he started with “i give you my whole soul..” and xz cuts him off. like he is embarrassed and doesn’t want wyb to continue on. cpfs thought it’s from a poem by the same author called loving you is like loving life.

I give you my whole soul, along with its quirks, tantrums, flickers, 1800 bad habits. It's really annoying, there’s only a little good, Love you.

🫠🫠🫠🫠

• pig on his phone! 📲 i think this one is more telling and personal. you can explain it differently and say that since gg is superstitious, he believes that it’s some form of attracting prosperity. which could be true. but at the same time, wyb does the same for him. his piggy who brought him happiness and good fortune in life.

• fake rumor of them arguing as they usually do and then xz saying “the pig is angry” pertaining to wyb.

• another cute rumor:

🟢"It's cold, I'm afraid he'll freeze his head. Doesn't this look good with a hat?"

🔴"Yeah, you're pretty good at taking care of yourself."

Teacher Wang locked his phone. You're not going to reply? Hahahahaha. It's a piglet doll wearing a hat with the number "16" on it. It's pretty cute.

people are pointing at this stuffed toy as the alleged pig that yibo is taking care of. and the fact that it has 16 on it. 👀

and it’s a cow piglet!!!! 💕

just thinking about xz giving bobo a doll to take care of is making me somft!

• and another rumor 😂😂😂

XZ: There is a pig here wyb! [There is a pig sticker on the side of the makeup mirror. I don't know who put it there. ]

then xz was saying it’s cute, wyb then says “don’t say it looks like me!” to which xz replied: “I didn’t plan to say it! Why do you always think about yourself?” 🤣🤣🤣

they are so chaotic!!!!

there is something funny in all of this because with all the symbolism we have associated with them like the moon — xz chose the pig. maybe it’s because there is no room to misunderstand the meaning or association. you can explain what the moon, stars and umbrellas are for in a non-cpn way when he posts about it, but this leaves almost no room for escape. xz is really out here going on vacation and relaxed but leaving us stressed out with the candies he drops!

source.