#were they preliminary stuff or what??

[dollsinvogue]

Bratz x Mowalola Cloe » Mowalola spring 2023

[fictionadventurer]

Slotting The Long Winter alongside North and South as a book about life in the nineteeth century that counts as a sci fi because it explores how technology affects the lives of the people whose society depends on it, and explores what kind of duty a man has to care for his own business vs. that of the community.

[1chaerry]

Thank you for answering! I got into a fairy tail vibe again these days and the lack of stuff is criminal T^T

Anyway! Could I please have Sting and Laxus ( separately) reazling they have a crush on a fairy tail member! Reader please?

Thank you!!

ok I love this, I can totally see this happening, THIS IS SO CUTE

Realising they have feelings

summary: when realization hits, they know they're so doomed... in a good way

characters: laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe,

c.w: fluff, comedy, existential crisis, crush, local man finds out he is crushing on a Fairy.

w.c: 1.6k

Reader is called 'Saram', meaning 'Human/Person'

Sting Eucliffe

The first time he saw Saram was when he met Natsu the night of the preliminary round. He hadn't noticed her at first, how could he? She was quiet, practically hiding behind Lucy and Natsu, but he knew she was strong. Heavy magic levels emitted from her, he was surprised that someone so strong was in Fairy Tail. At that time, he had not paid much attention and moved on, forgetting the encounter.

The second time he saw her was not in a team, to his absolute surprise, he knew she was strong, but instead in the Fairy Tail stands, watching with a soft smile from beside Fairy Tail's Master, Makarov. She was sitting on the stone railing, legs dangling over the edge as she watched the opening and introductions. When everyone booed the first Fairy Tail team, despite the shock from her own guild members, Saram was cheering them on smiles and cheers of her. Her guild followed in quest: Sting found it a bit strange how she did not care and simply supported the weakest team.

The first time she came face to face with him was on Day-2 of the GMG, after Chariot. The moving challenge had rendered him, Natsu and Gajeel immobile and sick. After the challenge was over, Saram had come on to the field and first went to her guild mates, Gajeel and Natsu, her hands glowed a maroon color mixed with black, visibly making their exhaustion lesser and easing their sickness. What surprised him was that Saram walked over to him, kneeling down in front of him and quietly placed her fingertips to his forehead, a maroon and black glow, as he felt his sickness and exhaustion disappear.

He looked at her shocked, surprised, in disbelief and confusion, even opting to glance at her guild mates to understand why she was helping him: they didn't look bothered, in fact, they looked used to it. When his eyes met her, he was surprised to see how clear they were: no deceit, no bad intentions. Only a firm resolution to help him, nothing more, nothing less.

"Why...?" That was all he could say as she removed her hand. Without a pause, she said in a quiet but firm voice.

"You're a Dragon Slayer, right?"

He finds himself nodding wordlessly.

"Dragon Slayers don't do good with vehicles. I help Natsu and the others with it always, I don't see a reason to not help you too."

Makarov simply chuckled at her actions as he watched from the stands with the guild. Always a peculiar one, that one. Saram helped Gajeel and Lucy helped Natsu back to the arena resting area: Sting couldn't draw his gaze away from her retreating figure. And when he went back to his team's area, he couldn't help but kept his eyes on the woman who took her usual place on the ledge by her Guild Master's side as his mind stayed full of her thoughts.

When Bacchus asked for Elfman Strauss' sisters as a reward for the bet if he won, Sting did not really care. Not until he spoke of having Saram as an addition, too. He didn't notice himself, but Rouge did, his hands hand broken the ledge in anger, unknowingly, a dark fury in his irises. But it was simmered when Saram simply chuckled at the bet, mockingly albeit, "And here I thought being in an all mens guild would drive some manners into you, how disgusting you are to bet on women who have nothing to do with you lot."

Her words caused a shiver down everyone's spines, the silent threat and the smile that seemed like ice, "But it's alright, Elfman will beat you quite nicely for us."

Sting felt a flare in his veins, that challenge in her eyes was not directed towards him - instead at Bacchus - but he felt the dragon instincts within him stir. When the battle of Mirajane Strauss and Jenny Realight began, no one expected it to move into this direction. A glamor battle. The whole thing had drawn everyone's attention, even Sabertooth. When all the participating female wizards began joining, the cheers grew louder. Sting's eyes looked back to the Fairy Tail stands, not everyone had joined in, his eyes landed on Saram who was cheering on her guild mates, a glint in her eyes.

She was watching them all participate, chuckling and cheering, his eyes caught on the way she cheered with her hands moving, her eyes glimmering. Then, came the wedding dresses: he watched as Saram was laughing as she was also forced onto the arena by Titania, Erza and the Celestial Mage, Lucy. His eyes widened slightly as she rolled her eyes at them playfully and with a snap of her fingers, her outfit changed.

The dress was a stunning ball gown with a romantic and ethereal design. It featured a strapless, sweetheart neckline with off-the-shoulder tulle straps, adding a delicate and feminine touch. The bodice was intricately adorned with floral embroidery, showcasing a mix of pastel and muted tones, which seamlessly transition into the full, flowing skirt. The skirt itself was voluminous, made of layers of soft tulle, giving the dress a dreamy and airy appearance. The floral embroidery continues sporadically on the skirt, creating a cohesive and elegant look.

She looked so lovely that Sting felt his eyes stuck to her as she stood there with a smile, watching her guild mates and everyone else. He surprised himself more than he surprised her when he jumped down and walked towards her, strangely abash as he rubbed his nape, her eyes watched him in wonder as he extended his other hand, "Wanna partner up? You looked alone."

And he felt his heart almost jump out of his chest when she chuckled before taking his hand, nodding with a bright smile, the sun catching onto her hair and eyes, making them shimmer. Her voice was teasing and light as she looked at him, standing by his side, "Having one of the twin dragons as my partner? I'm rather privileged, wouldn't you agree, Eucliffe?"

"Sting. Call me that." He said, a bit embarrassed.

"Alright, then, you should call me Saram." Saram smiled, "Sting, thank you for saving me from being alone." She teased again.

Sting Eucliffe turned red at the situation as realization struck him. He really, really got into trouble didn't? Because otherwise, he wouldn't have gone and develope a crush on a Fairy. And if the rapid beating of his heart was any indicator, then Sting knew.

This feeling may very well develop into something more.

Not that he would mind.

Laxus Dreyar

The first thing he saw when he came back on Tenroujima camp was this ball of energy, practically bouncing around as she helped everyone. He eyed her in confusion and tried to comprehend if he knew her. Evergreen noticed the way he was staring at her; a smirk made it to her lips as she sat beside him, "Someone's eyes are stuck."

"Who's that?" He said, ignoring her quip.

"Saram. Our resident fireball." She hummed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Fireball? She's like Natsu?" He asked, a bit confused.

"Better."

He didn't understand what Evergreen meant by 'better' until a while later. His jaw dropped as Bickslow's 'babies' kept passing through her, it was like she was untouched by everything and anything. Freed noticed his look of confusion and clarified, "Saram has a kind of lost magic called Flame Logia."

"Flame Logia?" Laxus questions, his eyes constantly on her movements.

"Yeah, I think there's another official name but she calls it that."

It didn't take a few minutes before he found himself in a stare contest with her as they say face to face, cross-legged across each other on the ground. He shifted his head to the right, she did too. To the left, she followed. Freed, Evergreen, Bickslow and Makarov were watching in amusement.

"You have tattoos?" She asked, tone cheery, a bit too cheery.

Laxus, to his own surprise, found himself nodding. Her eyes glimmered as she scoots closer, Laxus eyes her in confusion. Evergreen simply chuckled, giving a knowing look to Freed and Bickslow before walking off - the two follow after her. She eyes his tattoo with interest, he almost flinched when she moved closer and looked up at him with sparkly eyes, "Can I touch it? Can I, can I?"

He blinked before nodding. She touched the tattoo and he had to stop himself from shivering from her hand's touch; it was too cold for some reason. The rest of the day went by uneventful, a silent buzz amongst the members. For some reason, Saram decided to stick close to him. Telling him all the stories of the guild, the members and the events that happened while he was away. She looked so happy and cheerful in her stories that Laxus found himself looking amused and interested.

Even the next morning, she skipped over to him holding breakfast for him and herself: she spoke of stories and missions and how everything went bad on Tenroujima till now. He spat out his water when she asked him on a date, Evergreen was laughing.

"D-date?"

"I think you're cute. Come on." She smiled.

Laxus didn't like her. No way. Not in a way that he would crush on her. Yeah, she was cute. Her way of speaking was interesting. He found himself interested in her stories. They way her eyes glimmered when she spoke of the guildmates. How she picked out the tomatoes from her sandwich at last night's dinner— he paused.

Oh.

Ah shit.

He was crushing on her.

Hardcore.

The moment was cut short by the appearance of Acnologia, everyone scrambling and getting to safety. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Saram providing back-up Makarov as everyone ran on his orders. He could hear Natsu yelling.

"Master! Saram! Go back, you bastard!"

Natsu was yelling at him but he kept his head down. He had to listen. He had to listen. He had - oh fuck it. Everyone ran back to Master and Saram: determined to not leave them behind, Makarov yelled at them but Laxus smirked, finding it hilarious that he thought that his guild, his children would leave so easily.

"Wendy, Laxus, Natsu, Gajeel!" Saram yelled out, glow emitting from the bodies of the Dragon Slayers, "Go! I'll enhance you!"

A new profound power surged through their veins as they fought against the dragon. Yet, their power is not enough. It was sudden. The swish of Acnologia's tail was sudden and abrupt. And in it's trajectory stood –

Laxus felt himself falter.

- Saram.

Everyone's eyes widened as time seemed to stop for a moment; Acnologia's tail hit her, her body convulsed for a second before she was swatted away at the mountain rocks. Her body hit the rocks with an explosion and cloud of dust: a scream of pain before her body fell limp and unmoving to the ground.

His eyes widened and he ran to her, the others covering him, "Saram!" He yelled as he skidded to a crouch near her body.

"Ah, it's the pretty lightning dragon..." She said weakly as Laxus held her in his arms, rushing over to where everyone stood in a circle. He held her hand as she leaned her body weight on his own figure. And with a squeeze of his hand, Saram looked up at him with a weak smile.

His heart clenched weirdly, not from worry or concern, a strange warmth, "Lightning Dragon," She said quietly "Promise me something?"

"Go on, I'll try." He had small smile, a chuckle left him as he stood with his guild, his family in a circle, pouring their magic in.

"After this is all over, let's go on a date."

And Laxus smiled, used at her words, "Sure."

"And let me see your tattoos properly."

"Alright."

Maybe he never knew what it was like to feeling something for someone but as he stood beside this woman who he met only one day ago, he could say one thing. Laxus Dreyar somehow began to crush on a Fairy who bounced into his life with her wings.

Maybe the lightning dragon will collect this shiny fairy too.

[honorhearted]

The tears streaming down Isabelle's face were nearly more painful to behold than the stark, stinging welt on her cheek, and swallowing past the lump in his throat, Ben frowned and turned away. Michel, in all his arrogant glory, was merely straightening his appearance as he awaited them to reconvene.

Giving Isabelle's hand a gentle squeeze, Ben stepped forward and nodded at the question. "Yes, sir, I believe so," he tightly replied. "You were the initial aggressor, but since I counter-acted with violence, that puts your injury at a greater scale than my own." His chin jutted. "The injured party therefore has the choice of arms, as well as the time and place, so I will leave those both entirely up to you."

Irritable, he began rubbing his fingers together in a nervous tic. Due to his hastiness, Michel could also demand that Ben forfeit his own arms and use a weapon unfamiliar -- nothing truly dire, given his ability to acclimate in war, but a disservice nevertheless.

Exhaling through his nose, Ben added, "I would like to name Josiah as my second. Seeing how it was his wife whom you so heinously struck, I believe he would be amenable to seeing you pay for your crimes." Expression tightening, he added, "Even though Isabelle is lawfully my wife in the eyes of God, I wish for this to be a fair turn of events. He has a right to know my intentions." He curled his hands into fists. "Are we in agreement?"

honorhearted:

Ben refused to take the bait. Not because he didn’t wish to, but because he knew Nathaniel would be displeased, were he to enter a fistfight over his honor – that he would be aggrieved, were his son to cause more bloodshed after the war.

But oh, how he wanted to.

Isabelle pushed past him then, choosing to be mediator, but her efforts were met with an open-palmed smack. The sound echoed throughout the room and stabbed into Ben’s heart, making all his prior composure and attempts at peace go crumbling into dust.

No longer able to see reason, he seized Michel by the collar and slammed him harshly against the wall, Ben’s teeth gritting as he bashed the older man’s head into the surface twice more for good measure.

“On your knees, mongrel!” he seethed. “The only reason you’re still alive right now is out of respect to your daughter! It would behoove you to keep in mind that I have killed men far larger and smarter than you!” Chin quivering with rage, he tightened his hold and pressed onto Michel’s windpipe. “You dare to stand there and speak to me of honor? You didn’t fight in this war – you stood back and allowed everyone else to win your riches; to ensure that you were able to uphold this home that is purely worthless when you have no one to love you! Because be rest-assured, sir, your so-called friends do not care one whit about you beyond your money – it is your daughter and son who do, but you have single-handedly driven them away! Not me!”

Isabelle was at his side, tugging on his arm and weeping amidst her plea. With a lump in his throat, Ben furiously shoved Michel away from him and stepped back, his pulse drumming in his ears and drowning out the brunt of Isabelle’s begging.

“I have to,” he softly said. “Don’t you see? He’ll never let us be together – not unless I win this once and for all.” Turning to take her face between his hands, fury burned within his breast as he brushed his fingertips over the pink, swelling mark on her cheek. “I won’t aim for anyplace fatal,” he vowed. “All I need to do is make my mark in order to win.”

Glancing back at Michel, Ben’s expression darkened and he nodded. “You assumed correctly, sir,” he tightly said. “I was once a soldier, but I am also a gentleman. I will abide by your terms.”

Her cheek continued to throb, but it stung very little in comparison to the unbearable ache abiding in her heart like an unwelcome guest who had overstayed their welcome.

When Ben seized Michel by the collar and slammed his body against the wall, Isabelle gave a start, at once flooded with great consternation, clutching her chest as her heart hammered violently in her breast. It all happened so quickly. With every blink of the eye, the sight of the two men wrestling each other changed dramatically, furniture disturbed from its place while they scuffled about, utterly blind to their surroundings and deaf to Isabelle’s pleadings to stop altogether.

The only reason you’re still alive right now is out of respect to your daughter! It would behoove you to keep in mind that I have killed men far larger and smarter than you!

Michel gave a scornful laugh at that. “Fool! You have no idea what you’re talking about! I could have you dead in an instant, without having to lift a single finger,” he shot back at that, smug, choking out the words with another strangled laugh as he strained for breath.

“Ben, please! Don’t you see you’re hurting him,” she cried loudly, distraught.

“Is this the kind of man you want for a husband, Belle? He has admitted killing more than once.” As he spoke, his steely gaze remained fixed on Ben.

To Michel’s satisfaction, Isabelle remained silent as her body tensed up, heart tightening as though it had been squeezed.

Waiting with unease, Isabelle was certain he would once more lash out at Ben but became flummoxed when he indulged no further at his insults. The anger had completely vanished from his eyes and face without so much as a remnant of the rage which he’d been burning with only moments before. Fixing his tousled hair and straightening out his garments, he returned to his abandoned Madeira, finishing off the rest.

That was when Ben finally turned to her, framing her face with his hands, fingers soothingly caressing the mark on her cheek. She leaned closer to his touch. “You don’t,” Isabelle argued quietly, tears running down her face as she shook her head. “You are just handing over precisely what he wants! There has to be another way,” she said, voice hushed, cracking with every word as she cast him a pleading look.

I won’t aim for any place fatal. All I need to do is make my mark in order to win.

With silent defeat, she released a soft sigh. Although Isabelle of course didn’t want anything to happen to her father – despite everything he’d said and done, she still loved him – she was far more concerned with the possibility of something happening to Ben and not her father. She had already lost him before; once was surely enough. Now, how could she risk losing him once more?

Michel stepped forward, hand resting against a chair. “Are you familiar with the French dueling codes for pistols?”

[ordinarypersoninthisworld]

What have women done ?

Nicholas Fuentes just reminded us all that women are nothing for men.

Your body my choice. I don’t get it. I simply don’t.

What have we done ? What have we done to get century’s of oppression, repression ? What have we done to get raped ? What have we done to get looked down ? What have we done ?

The thing I believe is, if men never needed women we would simply have been exterminated by now. Because how would you explain the oppression, and everything else we endured for centuries?

Nicholas Fuentes mother’s must be so disappointed. Every rapists, pedophile etc mothers must be so disappointed. It’s not your fault unless you taught him those stuff.

Abortion is my right. I’m not ready I get rid of the cell. I don’t have the money I get rid of it. It’s my rapists baby, I’ll have no remorse. You can kill a cell up to 3 months, otherwise the baby gain consciousness. So instead of forbidding it, make a deadline.

Oh and if you ban abortion then the father cannot leave under any circumstances. It’s his baby too and he put his semen into me I didn’t specifically ask for it. If it’s a rapist’s baby then I have the right to give it up for adoption. I didn’t ask for that baby nor do I want to remember for the rest of my life that I got raped. But if I got raped and have his baby you need to either leave it up to him with obligation or put him in jail. So don’t surprise when so much babies are gonna be found abandoned.

All the things that happens to innocent women all over the world just because they are women is the most vile thing in the existence.

Look, in Afghanistan a new law passed. Women cannot talk between themselves. Women lost their voices. Literally. They have to fully cover themselves EVEN the eyes! Yes normally you can show your eyes well they can’t. Why women ? We haven’t done nothing. We haven’t killed no one.

In Japan the sexual assault is so big than the worst tortured in the human existence happened to a girl getting tortured, raped, sexually assaulted and cruelly abused. She just said no. She said no to go out with a guy. You can say no. Every woman would say no if they don’t know you or just don’t want to. You can reject girls but we can’t ? We can’t because we might get tortured and killed ? A woman had sex with a man and when it comes to preliminary, the guy tortured her: he shoved his hand so far he reached her organs and pulled them out of her body. She was still alive. Do you imagine just the slightest bit of terror and absolute pain she must have been in ? Why did he do that? Well she was a woman. A girl got gang raped in India. Why ? She was a little girl. A man raped his daughter more than 200 times got almost no sentences and kept the guard. Why ? She was a girl.

Girls are forced to marry when they have their period, the youngest being 9 in 2024. 9. Let girls be girls. They don’t have to get married to an old sick man. They don’t want to get pregnant, they don’t want to carry babies, they don’t want to have sex, they don’t want to be tied for eternity.

They want to grow up at their pace, they want to experience childhood and believes in unicorns.

Men are not dogs. Because dogs would never do that to you. Men are men. Men are vile, men are repulsive men scared me.

I’m scared of everything. I’m scared when I go to my school, I’m scared when I take the bus I’m scared when I refuse someone on instagram or Snapchat I’m scared when I’m out I’m scared of having a boyfriend I’m scared of having my first time I’m scared of saying no to a man I’m scared of getting assaulted and I’m utterly scared of getting raped. Because I’ll rather die.

My women are scared to. My sisters are scared of you. But my sisters are ready to fight to.

Iranian women are doing it. Keep it up girls, you deserve respect, recognition and rights to.

In Afghanistan, nobody is doing anything. Why ? Because they are women. Let’s be honest, if roles were reversed and it was done to men, many presidents would have done something. I’m scared for them.

In Somalia,(And many other countries still) families practice what’s called Female genital Mutilation (for boys it’s circumscribed ) on little girls. More than 200 million women in the world are victims of those tortures. What’s so different ? Why is it not called mutilated for boys ? It’s simple do the maths. We have holes, Which apparently throughout the humans history was enough to make us lesser bumans.

You can’t retire anything on a man penis except for the skin at the end to prevent them from masturbating.

Well for a woman, you can. But it’s recognized internationally as inhuman and a violation of women rights and health as well as entraining so much complications that a lot of young girls die. It’s usually do with a razor blade that is not sanitary and the women aren’t put in sleep. They cut the clitoris. They retire it. Or they cut the interior lips as well and retire them. Oh and the exterior lips are cut. And then they sew. They sew the holes. If you wanna know what it is google is here.

This is the most intense pain a woman can experience. The genitals parts on both women and men are the most sensitive and endangering parts if someone is of bad intentions.

https://youtu.be/kFpOHYQlz24?si=7i5eKJdbRFdShEkL

Here is a strong woman sharing her story about her experience.

Let’s get back to something softer. Beauty standards.

I don’t know about you reading this but I don’t seem to know of any particular men beauty standards. They don’t have to comform to a certain nose (most of the time) or certain eye shapes and lips.

I guess they are but men are good to create insecurities and unrealistic beauty standards for women. Furthermore there is the whole hourglass body stuff and petite women.

First I think petite women especially used by men is a way of infantilizing a woman to make her look innocent etc and unless you have a fast metabolism or surgery most of the women don’t have a hourglass body. I have a slow metabolism and sports does not work for me. Yet I’m a mid size girl with a fat tummy. I can’t wear crop tops nor any clothes I like because y’all decided I had to look a certain way for that. I have broad shoulder and wide rib cage so im not considered feminine enough. Well fuck you. I’m a woman that’s enough. Some girls are bigger than me and are confident and I envy you and support you so bad. Some girls are thinner than the norm and yet are such pure souls. Some girls are curvy and hate their bodies so bad. And some girls have the perfect body yet would like some more skin. We can never be happy with our body that is the same for everyone. Yet we accept men as they are most of the time. We normalized having a dad body yet when it comes to a woman you can’t have tummy. If you have a dad body that’s okay girl don’t mind but if you have a mom body because guess what you just had a baby . or multiple and have an injury the size of a rounded pillow inside of you you are ugly. You need to get thin you need to have big boobs no stretch marks ! You can’t look like you had a kid because that’s not attractive. Bullshit. You can’t expect a woman to lose weight after having a baby.

Oh and for fucks sake women you don’t have to reserved yourself from a burger. You want to eat it ? Eat it. We don’t care about what men think they eat 3x times the burger!

Plus The mere idea of having a type is just stupid. and if women said they want a certain type that are not the men watching the vids you can expect them to say something like: well we don’t want fat women/ we don’t want full face etc. Like shut up she’s not gonna date you nor are you even gonna meet her in real lifeYou fall in love with personality. And no looks does not matter despite what everybody is trying to say because personality makes you 10x prettier than you are. If you have a shit personality people will avoid you like the plague but if you are nice kind smart etc they tend to find you attractive and prettier than what you already are.

That was a rant about everything I had in mind and probably have A lot of misspelling and mistakes. But I just watch Nicholas Fuentes that little bitch and I hope he gets so injured he’ll get alzeihmer so that someone can re-educate him because he doesn’t seem to respect his mother and every women in his life.

Remember it’s not all men but it’s always a man.

Edit lol

Just saw multiple posts about the new laws that were proposed in Iraq and guess what ? Yes women and little girls are targeted also. I have some posts include bed if y’all are interested

Translation Iraq's justice minister has proposed a controversial law: lowering the age of consent to 9, legalizing marital rape, automatic custody of children for the father, the possibility of divorce from the age of 9 and women will be deprived of inheritance. (The Guardian)

[idkanymark]

[Give me my Romeo]

haechan x f!reader | theater club | romeo and juliet au

INTRO: What started as a rivalry on the stage became something neither of you expected. Cast as Romeo and Juliet in your university’s theater production, you and Haechan were forced to confront not only the tensions of your roles but the growing spark between you. What happens when the lines between acting and reality blur, and the final curtain brings more than just applause?

wc: 6.1k

NOTE: I never read Romeo and Juliet in English so I had to search online for some parts of the act, sorry if there's any mistake🙏

----

The dimly lit auditorium buzzed with nervous energy as students filtered in, clutching scripts and notebooks. The annual play auditions at NCTU’s theater club were legendary, and this year, they’d chosen the timeless tragedy Romeo and Juliet. Everyone wanted a role, but only two parts truly mattered—Romeo and Juliet.

You sat in the second row, scanning the script you’d practically memorized. The club director, Ms. Lee, paced near the stage with her clipboard, her sharp gaze flicking over the students as if she were sizing up a battlefield.

And then, he walked in.

Lee Donghyuck—or Haechan, as he insisted everyone call him—strode into the auditorium like he owned it. He was NCTU’s resident golden boy: charming, talented, and insufferably arrogant. His honey-brown hair caught the light as he ran a hand through it, grinning at his entourage of sycophants trailing behind him.

Your stomach churned. “Of course he’s here” you muttered under your breath.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” your best friend Yeri whispered back, glancing at him. “You know he’s going for Romeo”

“And I’m going for Juliet” you said, straightening your back. “Let’s just hope the universe has some sense of mercy and doesn’t pair me with him.”

The rivalry between you and Haechan was practically the stuff of legends. Ever since he transferred to NCTU last year and stole the spotlight in the spring musical, you’d been at odds. He was talented—you couldn’t deny that—but his cocky attitude and penchant for pushing your buttons made him unbearable.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” Ms. Lee clapped her hands, silencing the chatter. “As you know, today we’re auditioning for the lead roles. I’ll be pairing you up for readings, and I want to see chemistry. Convince me you’re star-crossed lovers.”

That would be an easy task unless your partner is Haechan.

Ms. Lee called names, pairing students for the preliminary rounds. You watched as one by one, hopefuls took the stage, some stumbling over their lines, others showing promise. Then, the inevitable happened.

“Y/N and Haechan, you’re up” Ms. Lee announced, barely glancing up from her clipboard.

Your jaw clenched. You glanced at Yeri, who gave you an apologetic shrug, and stood, smoothing your shirt. Haechan was already swaggering toward the stage, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

“Try not to ruin this for me” he said under his breath as you climbed the stairs.

“Funny, I was about to say the same to you” you shot back, taking your place center stage.

The scene was Act I, Scene 5—the fateful moment when Romeo and Juliet meet at the Capulet’s masquerade ball. Ms. Lee explained the context briefly before nodding for you to begin.

Haechan started, his voice smooth and melodic. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss”

You suppressed an eye roll and focused on delivering your line. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss”

The words felt electric in the air, but not because of any real connection between you and Haechan. It was tension—raw, palpable tension that made your voice sharper and his gaze more intense. You could feel Ms. Lee watching closely, her pen hovering over the clipboard.

When the scene ended, there was a beat of silence before Ms. Lee spoke. “Interesting. Thank you, both of you. Next pair, please.”

As you descended the stage, you caught Haechan’s smirk. “Not bad” he said. “For someone who’s clearly out of her depth.”

“Oh, please” you shot back. “You’re just lucky I’m carrying this performance.”

“We’ll see who’s carrying who when the roles are announced” he replied, walking off with that maddening confidence.

Two days later…

The cast list was posted. A small crowd had already gathered around the bulletin board when you arrived, and you pushed your way through, heart pounding. Your eyes scanned the sheet until you found it:

Romeo: Lee Donghyuck

Juliet: Y/N

You stared at the names, the reality sinking in like a stone in water. Your breath caught in your throat.

“No way” you whispered, your mind reeling.

Yeri appeared beside you, looking over your shoulder. “Well, looks like fate’s got a twisted sense of humor” she said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "You and Haechan... this is gonna be something"

From behind you, a familiar voice spoke, smooth as ever. “Looks like we’re stuck together, Juliet”

You turned to find Haechan grinning down at you, his expression equal parts smug and amused.

“This is going to be a disaster” you muttered, half to yourself.

“Or a masterpiece” he countered, winking.

Yeri groaned as she read the list. “Great. Now I have to hear you complain about him for the next two months” She glanced over at Haechan, who was already swaggering off, completely unfazed. “Can’t believe you’re actually going to have to kiss him on stage. You okay with that?”

You shot her a side-eye, feeling your cheeks warm slightly at the thought. “No. I’m not okay with it. At all” you said, your tone biting more than you meant it to. “But it’s not like I have a choice”

Yeri smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if anyone can make something work, it’s you. Just remember, it’s acting. You can survive this.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “This is going to be the greatest challenge of my life.”

“Or the greatest performance” Haechan added from behind you, strolling away with a wave. "See you at rehearsal, Juliet"

Gosh, how cocky can he be?

And just like that, the stage was set for the greatest challenge of your theater career.

----

The first week of rehearsals was a complete disaster.

You showed up early every day, determined to prove you were the better actor. Yeri cheered you on from the sidelines, offering moral support and running lines with you during breaks. But no amount of preparation could prepare you for dealing with Haechan.

“You’re stepping on my cue” you snapped during the third run-through of Act II, Scene 2—the infamous balcony scene.

Haechan leaned casually against the mock balcony railing, his expression infuriatingly relaxed. “I’m not stepping on your cue. You’re just late delivering your line.”

“Late?” Your voice rose an octave. “I’m perfectly on time. Maybe if you stopped ad-libbing every other word, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“It’s called artistic interpretation” he replied with a smirk. “You should try it sometime.”

“Alright, that’s enough” Ms. Lee interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Both of you, take five.”

You stormed off stage, muttering under your breath. Yeri was waiting in the wings, holding out a bottle of water. “I take it things are going well?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“He’s impossible” you hissed, taking the water and gulping it down. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to theater.”

“To be fair, he’s pretty good” Yeri pointed out, earning a glare from you. “Okay, okay, don’t kill me. I’m just saying maybe you should try working with him instead of against him.”

“I’d rather eat this script” you replied, waving the booklet in your hand.

Rehearsals continued, and the tension between you and Haechan only grew. He had a knack for getting under your skin, whether it was by subtly correcting your blocking or making snarky comments about your delivery. But as much as you hated to admit it, there were moments when his talent shone through.

During one rehearsal, Ms. Lee had you run the balcony scene again, this time with more emotion. “I want to feel the longing, the desperation" she instructed. “You’re two people who are willing to defy the world for each other. Make me believe it.”

You took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. Haechan was already in position, looking uncharacteristically serious. As the scene unfolded, something shifted. His voice was softer, more earnest, and his gaze held a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls” he said, his words carrying a quiet intensity. “For stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do that dares love attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me”

For a moment, you forgot about your rivalry, about the barbs and bickering. You were Juliet, and he was Romeo. And for the first time, you felt the spark of something real. His sincerity made your heart flutter unexpectedly, and you had to fight to keep your composure.

When the scene ended, the auditorium was silent. Ms. Lee clapped her hands once. “Much better” she said. “That’s what I want to see.”

You glanced at Haechan, expecting a smirk or a snide remark, but he simply nodded, his expression unreadable. His usual cocky smile was absent, and something about that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to admit.

As you walked off stage, Yeri was waiting with a knowing smile.

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“Nothing” she said, grinning. “It’s just... you two might actually pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you wondered if she might be right. There was something different in the air, something you couldn't quite place. Something that made the idea of this performance—of working with Haechan—suddenly feel... possible.

----

The tension in rehearsals began to shift after that balcony scene. Something unspoken lingered between you and Haechan, neither of you willing to acknowledge it directly. Instead, it seeped into your performances, turning your clashes into something raw and electric.

Ms. Lee noticed the change, of course. “You two are finally starting to act like star-crossed lovers” she remarked one afternoon after a particularly charged run-through of the play’s climactic tomb scene. “Keep it up.”

Despite the progress onstage, your relationship offstage remained rocky. Haechan still found ways to annoy you, whether it was by "accidentally" stealing your water bottle or offering unsolicited critiques of your delivery. But now, there were moments when his teasing felt... lighter. Playful, even.

One rainy afternoon, the rehearsal was canceled due to a power outage. You and Yeri decided to stay behind and run lines in the empty theater, but Haechan showed up too, claiming he needed the quiet to work on his monologues.

“You can’t possibly concentrate with us here” you said, eyeing him suspiciously as he sprawled across the front row of seats.

“I can ignore you just fine” he shot back, flipping open his script.

An hour later, you were struggling through one of Juliet’s monologues when he interrupted.

“Pause” Haechan said, sitting up. “You’re rushing through it. Juliet’s conflicted, but she’s not frantic. Give the words more space to breathe.”

You bristled, but Yeri nudged you. “He’s right” she admitted reluctantly.

“Fine” you said, exhaling sharply. “Show me how you’d do it, Mr. Perfect.”

To your surprise, Haechan didn’t smirk or gloat. He simply stood, walked to the stage, and began reciting Juliet’s lines. His voice was softer than you’d ever heard, layered with a vulnerability that made the words ache.

"O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!"

When he finished, the theater was silent. You swallowed hard, unwilling to admit just how much he’d moved you.

“Not bad” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

“High praise coming from you” he replied with a small grin. “Your turn”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath and tried again. This time, you let the words settle, drawing on the emotions you’d seen him convey. The pause before you spoke felt longer this time, your thoughts swirling around his sudden honesty.

"O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!"

When you finished, Haechan nodded.

“Better” he said simply, his tone lacking the usual sarcasm.

That wasn’t the last time you met a new side of Haechan. One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, you found yourself alone in the auditorium. The stage was empty, the lights dimmed, but you lingered, flipping through your script and mouthing the lines to yourself. The world seemed quieter in these moments, as if the theater itself were holding its breath.

“You’re still here?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to see Haechan leaning against the doorway, his bag slung over one shoulder. “Didn’t think you were the type to overwork yourself.”

“And I didn’t think you cared” you shot back, though your tone lacked its usual bite. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugged, walking closer. “Sometimes it’s hard to leave. Feels like the stage pulls you back, doesn’t it?”

You nodded despite yourself. There was something about the theater—the way it transformed you, made you feel larger than life, even when you felt small. “Yeah. It does.”

Haechan set his bag down and perched on the edge of the stage. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching like a taut string between you. Then, to your surprise, he broke it.

“You know, it wasn’t always like this for me” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Theater, I mean. I used to hate it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You? Mr. Theater Club Golden Boy? Hard to believe”

He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, well, my parents pushed me into it when I was a kid. Thought it would make me more confident or something. At first, it was just… exhausting. Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “What changed?”

“I don’t know” he admitted, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “One day, I realized that being on stage was the only place where I felt like I could breathe. Where I didn’t have to be perfect, even if everyone expected me to be”

The raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You’d always seen Haechan as this unshakable force, someone who thrived on confidence and charisma. Hearing him admit to struggles you’d never imagined made him feel… human.

“I get that” you said quietly. “It’s like, when you’re on stage, nothing else matters. Not school, not family, not… whatever else is going wrong. It’s just you and the story.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. For once, there was no hint of mockery or arrogance in his expression. “Yeah. Exactly.”

The moment hung in the air, fragile and fleeting. You felt a strange warmth in your chest, an unfamiliar ache that you couldn’t quite name. Before you could dwell on it, Haechan smirked, breaking the spell.

“Don’t tell me I’m winning you over” he teased, his usual bravado slipping back into place.

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

The next day at rehearsal, things felt… different. The barbs you and Haechan exchanged were less pointed, playful. The chemistry Ms. Lee had demanded seemed to flow more naturally, and for the first time, you found yourself looking forward to your scenes with him.

Yeri noticed, of course. She always did.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she asked during a break, cornering you near the water cooler.

“What are you talking about?” you replied, feigning innocence.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You and Haechan. You’re… I don’t know, actually getting along?”

You hesitated, unsure how to explain. “I guess we just… called a truce or something. It’s not like we’re best friends now.”

“Hmm.” Yeri gave you a skeptical look but let the subject drop—for now.

The next major turning point came during a late-night rehearsal. Ms. Lee had insisted on running the pivotal Act V, Scene 3—the tragic finale where Romeo and Juliet meet their untimely end. The scene required raw emotion, the kind that left you drained but exhilarated.

As you and Haechan stood on stage, the weight of the moment pressed down on you. The other students watched in silence as you delivered Juliet’s lines, your voice trembling with desperation.

"O, happy dagger! This is thy sheath:

There rust, and let me die."

The dagger in your hand was just a prop, but the emotion you poured into the words felt real. As you collapsed beside Haechan, his hand found yours, his grip firm and grounding. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the stage fading into darkness.

When the scene ended, the room erupted into applause. Ms. Lee’s voice cut through the noise, her praise uncharacteristically effusive. “That’s it! That’s what I’ve been waiting for. Incredible work, both of you.”

You sat up, breathless and slightly dazed. Haechan was still lying beside you, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips.

“See?” he murmured. “We make a good team.”

You didn’t reply, but for the first time, you wondered if he might be right.

----

It had been weeks of rehearsals, and now, the moment had arrived. The kiss. The scene that you both dreaded, the one Ms. Lee had been emphasizing from day one—“Make it real. Make it believable.” You didn’t even want to think about it.

You sat in the dimly lit theater, the final act of the play hanging in the air. The room was empty except for you and Haechan, and you could hear the sound of your own heartbeat in the stillness. You looked at him, standing there, waiting for you to move, but you couldn’t. Your feet felt like they were glued to the floor.

"So, uh... ready?" Haechan asked, his voice oddly soft, the usual playful smirk nowhere to be found.

You swallowed, unable to meet his gaze. "Not really"

Haechan’s brows furrowed slightly. "It’s just a kiss" he said, but there was something in his voice that sounded almost... uncertain? "You’ve kissed before, right?"

You gave a nervous laugh, but it sounded hollow. "Yeah of course.."

“You haven’t?” he asks and you nodded confirming

Haechan paused, his eyes softening for a moment as if he understood, but then the playful side of him came back. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s just a scene. No pressure. We got time”

But you could feel the weight of the moment. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was Juliet and Romeo, the pivotal moment of the play. You couldn’t do it in front of everyone like this, not yet. Not with the way your heart raced just thinking about it.

Before you could voice any more doubts, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Ms. Lee walked into the theater, her clipboard in hand and a determined look in her eyes.

“You two ready for the kiss scene?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at both of you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could get the words out, Ms. Lee gave you a pointed look.

“I know, I know,” she said. “This scene has been... difficult, but we need to make progress.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your script as if it might hold the answers. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck. You weren’t sure what was more terrifying—the fact that you had to kiss Haechan or that Ms. Lee was watching.

"Let's try it" she said, gesturing for you both to get into position.

You took your place across from Haechan, trying not to let the nerves show. The lines felt different now—he wasn’t just Romeo, and you weren’t just Juliet. You were two actors trying to make something real out of nothing.

“From the top” Ms. Lee said, her voice firm.

You and Haechan began, your words flowing more easily now that the tension had built. It felt like a dance—back and forth, moving in sync with each other.

“Thou know’st the mask of night is on my face” you said, your voice quieter than you meant it to be, but Haechan’s gaze was steady, pulling you in.

“I take thee at thy word” Haechan responded, his voice surprisingly gentle, not the usual confident tone you were used to hearing. “Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo”

The space between you was closing, the tension so palpable that you could almost taste it. But as Haechan stepped closer, you found yourself frozen in place, heart pounding in your chest.

You weren’t sure what to do—what to feel. Every part of you was screaming to just get through the scene, but the other part... the part that didn’t want to admit it, the part that felt shy, scared to let it go, was holding you back.

Just as Haechan leaned in, ready to bridge the gap and close the scene, Ms. Lee stepped forward sharply.

“Stop!”

You froze immediately, your heart dropping into your stomach. Haechan pulled back just as quickly, confusion flashing across his face.

Ms. Lee gave both of you a look that wasn’t angry, but stern. “That’s enough for today.”

“What? But... we were almost there,” Haechan said, looking between you and Ms. Lee. “What’s wrong?”

Ms. Lee shook her head. “It’s not the right time. You’re both still holding back. That kiss has to feel real. It has to come from a place of emotion, not just ‘getting through the scene.’ Right now, it’s not.”

You bit your lip, avoiding Haechan’s gaze. The tension between you both hadn’t been just for the scene; it had been real, building each time you were forced to confront it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do it, but you didn’t want to rush into it.

“But we need to rehearse it, right?” Haechan asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Ms. Lee, we can’t just skip it.”

Ms. Lee nodded, but there was a firmness in her tone that made you want to shrink into the floor. “You’re not skipping it. But it’s not about rehearsing the kiss over and over. You need time to feel it. To make it real. The audience will feel it when it’s true. The chemistry, the tension—you can’t fake that.”

You couldn’t meet her eyes, but you knew she was right. You could feel the difference between just performing the scene and actually experiencing it. There was no faking that kind of connection, no matter how much you tried.

Ms. Lee continued. “Take some time. Work on the scene together. When you’re both ready for it, we’ll go for the kiss, and it will be as real as it needs to be.”

With that, she gave a nod and left the stage, leaving you and Haechan alone in the stillness.

The silence between you two was thick, but this time, it wasn’t as awkward as before. You took a deep breath, feeling a little lighter without Ms. Lee’s intense gaze on you.

Haechan gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure. The air felt different now, and for a moment, you just stood there, unsure of what to say or do.

“We’ll get it.” Haechan said, breaking the silence. “When it’s time, we’ll make it real.”

You met his gaze, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t know when it would happen, but maybe, just maybe, you were starting to believe him.

---

After several more rehearsals, the tension between you and Haechan seemed to settle, though there was still a quiet undercurrent that neither of you fully acknowledged. But, as Ms. Lee had said, you needed time to really feel the scene—especially the kiss. Haechan seemed to understand that now, and so, the rehearsals went on without any more awkwardness.

One evening, as you were packing up your bag after a particularly long rehearsal, Haechan caught your eye, looking unusually hesitant. You raised an eyebrow as he approached.

"Hey" he began, his voice softer than usual. "You know, we've been practicing this scene for weeks, but we barely ever talk outside of it. How about we, I don't know, hang out a little? Just... you and me"

You blinked in surprise, not expecting such an invitation. "Like... a date?" you asked, unsure if that’s what he meant.

Haechan smiled, his usual playful grin returning. "Yeah, a date" he confirmed. "Think of it as a way to get to know each other better, so it doesn’t feel so... weird when we’re on stage"

You hesitated for a moment. You'd never been on a date, not in the traditional sense, and the idea of spending time with Haechan outside of rehearsals made your heart race for all the wrong reasons. But then, you remembered his gentleness during the last rehearsal—the way he'd reassured you without making it awkward. Maybe this would help you both get more comfortable.

"Okay" you said, giving a small nod. "I guess I could do that."

Haechan’s face lit up. “Great! I know a place. I promise it’s not as weird as it sounds"

The next day, he picked you up, wearing a simple yet stylish jacket that made him look effortlessly cool. You were still nervous, but there was something about his easy confidence that made you feel like everything would be okay.

When you got to the spot he had chosen, you were surprised—it was a small, charming café tucked away in a quiet part of town, far from the busy streets. The soft glow of fairy lights hung overhead, and there was a cozy, intimate atmosphere that felt worlds away from the chaos of rehearsals.

"You didn’t tell me you were a fan of cozy cafés" you said, glancing around at the warm, inviting space.

Haechan grinned, his eyes twinkling. "There’s more to me than just rehearsals and sarcasm, you know."

The café had a relaxed vibe, and the two of you settled into a corner booth. As you chatted, it was easier than you expected. The conversation flowed naturally—about everything and nothing. You discovered that Haechan had a deep love for music and played guitar in his free time, and he learned that you loved reading and had a secret obsession with indie films. You laughed together over the silly things you shared, and for a moment, it felt like you were just two people, not actors forced to kiss in a play.

As the night went on, you realized how much more you were learning about him—the playful side, the thoughtful side, and, maybe unexpectedly, the vulnerable side. He wasn’t just the confident, teasing actor on stage. There was something deeper to him, something that made your heart flutter.

When the meal came to an end, Haechan suggested a walk through the nearby park. It was quiet, peaceful, and the night air felt crisp as you strolled side by side, occasionally brushing against each other. You could feel the connection between you growing stronger, but neither of you spoke of it directly.

Finally, you stopped in front of a small fountain, the sound of the water filling the silence. The lights from the café flickered in the distance, casting a soft glow. Haechan turned to face you, his expression serious now, no longer playful.

"I’m glad we did this" he said quietly, his voice soft. "I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes, but I wanted to give us a chance to just... be normal for once. No pressure, no stage, just us"

You met his gaze, your heart pounding a little faster. The night had been unexpectedly perfect, and you couldn’t deny the way he made you feel—like you could breathe easier with him around.

“I’m glad too” you said, your voice quiet. “I... didn’t know what to expect, but this feels nice”

There was a pause, and then Haechan stepped a little closer, his gaze not leaving yours. “You know, I think... we’ve got this. The scene, the kiss, all of it. We can do it, because we’re not just pretending anymore. This—" he gestured between the two of you, "—this feels real.”

You felt a surge of warmth spread through you, and for the first time, you didn’t feel so nervous about the kiss. Maybe it was because, right here, standing in front of him, you were starting to understand what it meant to be real. Not just for the stage, but for the two of you.

You took a deep breath and smiled. “Yeah... I think we can" you said softly, your heart telling you that Haechan wasn’t just talking about the scene anymore.

The walk back was easy, and when you reached your apartment, Haechan stopped, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice lower than before. “I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of emotions. “Goodnight, Haechan”

As you closed the door behind you, your heart was still racing, but it wasn’t out of fear anymore. It was something else—something new.

And for the first time, you were sure of it. What was unfolding between you and Haechan? It wasn’t just part of a play. It was something real, and it was happening.

----

The big night of the performance had arrived.

The packed theater buzzed with energy, the murmur of the audience blending with the hum of the orchestra tuning in the pit. Behind the curtain, the cast and crew hurriedly adjusted costumes, touched up makeup, and whispered last-minute words of encouragement. But for you, the world felt still—like the weight of the night pressed its full force upon you.

You stood in the wings, adjusting the lace of your Juliet costume. Every fiber of your being was charged, not with nerves for the performance itself, but for what lay beyond it. Haechan stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the wall, dressed as Romeo. His typical playful confidence was gone, replaced by something quieter, something serious.

The moments between you during rehearsals had been electric—charged with unspoken feelings neither of you dared to address. The kiss, rehearsed in fragments but never fully acted out, was waiting at the center of the storm.

“Places!” called the stage manager, jolting you from your thoughts.

You glanced over at Haechan. He caught your eye, his expression unreadable, but in the depth of his gaze, you felt the same tension mirrored back at you. He gave a small nod, barely perceptible, as if to say, We’re in this together.

The opening scenes flowed seamlessly, the energy between you and Haechan drawing the audience in. By the time the masquerade ball arrived—the fateful first meeting of Romeo and Juliet—the crowd was utterly captivated.

When he spoke his first line to you under the soft glow of the stage lights, his voice was steady, but there was something more, something that made the words hum with sincerity.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

The way he looked at you made your heart stutter, and for a moment, you forgot your lines. But the pause wasn’t awkward—it was charged, a heartbeat longer than it should have been. Finally, you found your voice.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Your hands touched, palm to palm, and though it was only for the scene, the touch felt electric. When he leaned in, pretending to kiss your hand, the brush of his breath sent a shiver down your spine. The audience erupted into applause, but you barely noticed.

The first kiss came midway through Act II, Scene II—the balcony scene. The moment you dreaded and longed for in equal measure.

Standing on the balcony, you gazed down at Haechan. He delivered Romeo’s lines with raw, unfiltered emotion, his voice steady and low, each word drawing you in.

“With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt;

Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”

As Juliet, you responded with all the vulnerability and yearning you could summon. But this time, it wasn’t just acting. Every word you spoke felt real, pulled from somewhere deep within you.

“If that thy bent of love be honourable, thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow...”

As the lines wove together, the moment came. Haechan climbed the balcony, his hand reaching out to you. The script called for the kiss—a brief, dramatic moment—but it was anything but scripted.

When he leaned in, your heart raced. His lips met yours, soft and warm, and the world fell away. The noise of the crowd, the spotlight, the weight of the scene—all of it vanished. It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was real.

The kiss deepened for a heartbeat longer than it should have, and when you finally pulled away, breathless, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you. Not as Romeo. As Haechan.

The rest of the scene passed in a daze. The audience erupted in applause, but your heart was still pounding from something far more intimate than the performance.

After the final scene, the play came to its tragic conclusion. Juliet’s dagger fell, and the stage went dark. The audience leapt to their feet, the sound of their cheers filling the theater. The curtain fell, signaling the end, but for you and Haechan, something had only just begun.

Backstage, the cast celebrated, hugging one another and reliving the highlights of the night. But you stood apart, your thoughts consumed by the kiss—by the way it lingered, refusing to fade like the echo of a final note in a symphony.

You found Haechan by the prop table, where he was unlacing his boots. He looked up as you approached, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

“That kiss” he said finally, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “That wasn’t acting, was it?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. But you couldn’t lie—not now. “No” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t”

Relief flashed across his face, quickly followed by something deeper. He stood, closing the space between you, his eyes searching yours.

“I’ve been trying to say this for weeks" he said, his tone soft but insistent. “But every time I get close, I... chicken out. So, I’m just going to say it now.” He took a deep breath. “I like you. Not just on stage, not just as Juliet. I like you.”

Your breath caught, his words unraveling the last of your defenses. “I like you too.Not just on stage, not just as Romeo. I like you too” you said, the confession tumbling out before you could second-guess it.

His smile was soft, vulnerable, and before you could think, he leaned in again. This kiss was different from the one on stage—less dramatic, more tender. His hand cupped your cheek as if afraid you might disappear, and when you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I guess we’re not just a disaster waiting to happen, huh?” he teased, his signature playfulness returning.

You laughed, the sound light and free. “No,” you said, smiling up at him. “Maybe we’re just the beginning of something amazing, a masterpiece.”

In the distance, the cast’s cheers continued, but for you and Haechan, the night had quieted into something intimate, something that felt like a new story waiting to be written.

The final curtain had fallen, but the real performance—the one with no script or stage lights—had only just begun.

[fandomsandfeminism]

Can I just say, that I kind of love how Akira Toriyama introduces the Scouter in order to better quantify the disparity between abilities between fighters. Except that they are absolutely functionally useless because everyone can mask their power or power up any time.

What a great, dumb little shorthand. In DragonBall, you have to spend time watching a character like...do a preliminary match or like...break a big rock to get a sense of their skill, and then break a BIGGER rock to show they were even STRONGER THAN THAT.

(There's a funny sort of repetition in DragonBall where most major opponents get to beat up Goku 1 time, so when Goku beats them in the rematch, we know he's gotten stronger. Happens constantly.)

But with the scouter, you don't even have to compare how big of a rock you can break. The characters get to shout meaningless numbers at each other so we can speed run to the good stuff.

I know that probably sounds sarcastic, but I kid you not, every singly time a Scouter EXPLODES in DBZ, I fucking LOVE IT.

[the-anonmaton]

Whatever Feels Right

Chapter 2 / 4 - Preliminary

Relationships : Sevika x Reader Characters : Sevika, Original Female Character Rating: Explicit Tags : Kissing, Making Out, Nipple Play, Biting, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Body Worship, Nudity, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Aftercare, Gentle Kissing, Undressing, Licking, Foreplay, First Time, bottom reader, Virgin Reader, Anxiety, Soft Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Angst, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks, Awkward Conversations, Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Chapters : 4 ( 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ) Words : 17,331

Summary:

What about your first time with Sevika?

CONTENT WARNING: This fic is about an inexperienced reader and the need to stop during her first time, since she’s not ready. Chapter 4 is where some second thoughts are expressed and some anxiety-heavy stuff and panic, but Sevika is a thoughtful lover, so everything is fine.

**********

"Okay. Let's go home."

**********

And here you were, back to the place you both called home, in your shared bedroom, both still dressed, you sitting at the edge of the mattress, her walking towards you after discarding her cloak on the floor in the middle of the room.

The walk back to your home was a blur. You couldn't think straight or focus anywhere, let alone at the path you have crossed every day to and from work. You could only rely on the warm hand holding yours and trust it to guide you through the streets. But the only constant thing from the bar to where you were now sitting on the bed was the excitement you felt. You would finally take the next step with the woman you love and you felt so stupid it took you so long. You loved her and wanted to share everything with her.

Once she crossed the room and got to you, she knelt down in front of you, put her hands on either side of your face and made sure to catch your eyes. You never lost track of them. How could you? Your hands flew to her wrists, just holding her, grounding yourself.

"If for a second it doesn't feel right, you tell me. Okay?"

You could only nod. You haven't said a word since you left the bar. You thought that if you did the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be a scream. A good one though. No, the embarrassment would be too much, so you remained silent.

"Words, baby. Please." You felt the hands cupping your face pulling just a little, so she could get your attention and make you focus.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath through your nose, held it and let it out slowly from your mouth. A simple technique that always worked when anxiety tried to get the better of you. But the fact that she was always there, along with the patterns her thumbs were now tracing on your cheeks, managed to calm your nerves and excitement, to make you open your eyes and you finally felt that you could utter a few words.

"Okay."

Fine, it was one word. But she deemed it enough, since she seemed to relax and stood up. But before she let go of your face, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips and you hummed at the gesture.

"I love you, baby." She whispered, her lips ghosting over yours.

"I love you." You answered back with a smile and a trembling voice caused by your excitement.

"Tell me, okay?" She once again asked, and you once again nodded.

**********

You knew Sevika was always aware of her actions and never did anything without some sort of reason. That's what you thought when she started stripping in front you. Of course you’ve seen each other half-naked before. She wasn't particularly shy and she would get ready in the mornings, pop in and out of a bath, or change out of her work clothes into some casual sleepwear without caring if you were in the room with her or not.

You on the other hand were quite conscious of your body, or of her seeing you even in your underwear. So, you would usually turn away to allow her some privacy, or mostly to allow yourself to change without the stress of her accidentally looking over at you. Once she caught up, which was almost instantly after you two got together, she started doing the same so you would feel comfortable and to not overwhelm you.

This thought was going through your mind while she was undressing. She never did anything without a reason. And now she was letting herself be vulnerable in front of you so you would know that it's okay. The thoughtfulness of your girlfriend could make your heart explode and if you could, you would fall in love with her all over again.

There was nothing sexy or seductive about her movements. She was just undressing, occasionally catching your eyes and smiling softly at you. Of course you knew about the muscles underneath her clothes and you always appreciated them whenever you were allowed a glimpse.

So now you were looking mesmerized by the view she was giving you. Her toned abs, her thick thighs, her broad shoulders, her biceps bulging whenever she moved, her blue scars a constellation over her dark skin. You were starting to feel lightheaded and she wasn't even fully naked. You loved her strong body and she knew it, so she would flex every now and then just to hear your sharp intake of breath and then chuckle and wink at you. Thank the gods for her silly little act, at least that would make you relax and take a breath or two.

But your ability to breathe was taken away from you when she finally dropped the last piece of clothing. She was a naked goddess in front of you and you felt so small. You could only sit there at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets, just admiring your girlfriend. While she was undressing you tried to look everywhere you could, but now your only focus was on her breasts. On her full, dark, peaked nipples, on the goosebumps that appeared around them, on some other little scars hidden by her bra, on the full pattern of the blue streaks on her skin. Then your gaze shifted down to the full bush between her legs and you swallowed hard, before looking up and realizing she was moving again.

This time, your nude goddess of a girlfriend was once again in front of you and kneeling. She gently took your hands that were about to put a few holes in the sheets from how hard they were gripping at them and held them in her own, gently stroking the back of them with her thumbs. The sensory contrast between her cold metal and warm flesh would always help you relax whenever she held you like that.

"You okay?" Her soft voice helped you breathe a little easier.

"You're beautiful." You whispered, making her chuckle.

"Come here."

She pulled you up and now that you were both standing, your head was almost at the same height as her breasts and you awkwardly looked up at her, only to find her smiling at you, reassuring you. She guided your right hand to her waist and placed your left one above her right breast, over her collarbone. You had never touched each other so intimately. You felt unsure of what to do and you were certain she could feel the trembling of your hands on her skin.

"It's okay, you can touch, baby."

She was giving you permission. She knew you never had any experiences beyond a few kisses and make-outs with some exes, so now she was letting you explore and see for yourself what you liked. You looked down and tentatively moved the hand that was on her waist towards her stomach, feeling her abs and tracing with your fingers any scars in your path.

"I can flex if you want." In your stupor you didn’t expect to hear anything and you jumped before turning up to face her and see her smirking.

"What?" The buzzing in your ears didn't let you hear her clearly.

"I said, I can flex if you want." She said and she immediately flexed her abs.

The somewhat soft spot on her stomach that you were touching suddenly felt rock hard under your fingers, and you couldn't help but push a little harder, feeling the strong muscle.

"Damn you." You managed with a chuckle, letting both of your hands drop to your sides, while taking half a step back.

"What?" She followed you with half a step forward, the amusement evident in her voice and her smile.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Definitely not. Are you okay?" She took your now clenching hands and held them again, smoothing them open with gentle thumbs.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you okay though? With me touching you?" It seemed that she was doing everything to accommodate you and your nerves, and not caring at all about herself.

"I'm okay, don't worry. Just do what feels right." She said softly and placed your hands to their previous place on her body.

Your little back and forth was enough to calm you down. Once again Sevika had your back and made sure to help you relax, and you loved her for it. Damn, you wanted to give her everything.

And now you were back at it, exploring her body.

You moved your right hand that was once again resting on her waist and slid it down, just below her hip bone, the tips of your fingers touching the side of her ass cheek. You wondered what it would feel like if you slid your hand over her ass and gave a gentle squeeze, but you felt yourself holding your breath and you didn’t dare follow through with that thought. Instead you moved your hand again and went back up her side, stopping when you reached the height of her breasts.

Tentatively, you caressed with a thumb the skin below her left breast, over a rib, and you heard a sharp exhale above you. As much as you wanted to look up at her face to see her reaction, you couldn't. Because your touch caused more goosebumps to appear on her skin, on her breast and around her nipple.

You let your eyes wander over her chest that was right in front of you. Her breasts weren't full or round or perked up. They were on par with a woman of her physique, not small, but not big either, although weighed down by her age and gravity. You could see some faint stretch marks at their sides, a couple hairs just around her areola, a rather big diagonal scar starting over her right breast, where your other hand was now resting, and ending right in the middle of her chest. Finally, your eyes fell to her dark nipples, still looking painfully hardened, and ever so slightly moving with her every breath. You decided that her breasts were just perfect and you had a hard time looking away, or deciding how to proceed.

It must have been a couple of minutes with you just standing there, hands still on her body, before any coherent thought came to your tortured brain and you became aware of your dried mouth. So you licked your lips and tried to swallow, before turning your attention to the hand resting above her right breast, which felt like it was ready to catch fire.

With a feathery touch you glided the tips of your fingers down towards her breast, feeling the softness of it, but stopped right before you touched her raised nipple. Then you used your hand to cup her breast, lifted it up to feel its weight on your palm, gave it a tentative squeeze and you could swear that you heard a sharp inhale above you. But you couldn't look. You only had eyes for what was inches in front of you.

So while cupping her gently, you moved your thumb and dared to slide it over her nipple, right before pressing down on it with a little more force. You saw the frame in front of you expand, a clear sign of her taking a deep breath, and you followed her movement with hungry eyes and a hard swallow. You felt your mouth getting dry once again and the thought of taking that dark nipple into your mouth and sucking at it between your lips crossed your mind. But your nerves got the better of you, maybe you weren't ready for it.

Do whatever feels right.

So instead, your hands left her body, only for you to put them back on her shoulders. Using both hands in a symmetrical motion, you caressed her collarbones before running them up and down her arms, feeling her biceps and the hard muscles underneath. You were thirsty for something and you didn't know how you should proceed, so you looked up, making both of your now dark eyes meet, placed your hands behind Sevika's neck and gave a gentle tug to pull her towards you, a request.

She gladly followed, as she always did, and gave you the kiss you craved. It was slow and soft and reassuring and you pressed a little harder on her neck to hold her there for as long as she would allow. You felt her hands come to your waist, not to move you or bring you closer to her, but just to rest there, a reminder.

After breaking the kiss for some much needed air, you felt her soft raspy voice through the cloud of your mind.

"Can I take this off?" She breathed against your lips and you felt a tug on your shirt.

"Yeah, okay." You breathed out a whisper.

She gave you a quick kiss and pulled back to allow yourselves a little more space to maneuver. She must have been hearing your heart, almost ready to beat out of your chest, because her eyes were glued to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, as her hands gripped the bottom of your shirt.

She gently pulled it up and you raised your arms to help her get rid of it. Once it was off, leaving you with your bra, she dropped it on the floor next to you, covered the distance she had put between you, cradled your face in her hands and kissed you again. You could only stay in place and close your eyes., trembling hands kept at your sides and following her lead. You would always follow her lead when she was kissing you. Your make-out sessions were evident of that and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You felt her pull away again, you felt her breath hitting your forehead and then you felt the absence of her hands on the sides of your face. Not a second later you jumped when her metal hand was placed on your shoulder and a warm one on your waist.

"Is this okay?" You heard her question.

With your eyes still closed you nodded. And then her hand on your waist began to mimic your own patterns when your positions were reversed a few minutes ago. You would swear it felt like hours had passed. Her feathery touch made you take several deep breaths when she reached your hip bone, letting them out of your mouth through stuttering exhales, and when her thumb caressed the skin below your breast, over a rib, you shuddered and felt goosebumps forming all over your body. And now you understood how she must have felt when you did this to her. Were you really able to make her feel this way? Did you have that power?

With her left metal hand still on your shoulder grounding you, she brought the other one to hook a finger through a loop of your jeans. You still hadn't opened your eyes, so you relied on your senses to feel what was happening around you.

"Can I take this off, too?"

As soon as you realized the implications of her question you felt nervous, excitement cursed through your entire body, your heart rate skyrocketed and you clenched your eyelids even tighter.

"Just the pants for now." She softly added.

You caught in her voice her attempt to reassure you that she would take things slow for you, and you were grateful for her looking out. So you nodded. You would always trust her. With your life, with your heart, and now with your body and your anxious self.

"I got you." She added and you felt her presence slowly disappearing, but not gone, only getting smaller as you realized she was kneeling in front of you.

You felt sure hands on your zipper as it was being pulled down, followed by another slight downwards pull, causing your pants to give way and fall on the floor. You swallowed, mouth dry, and you finally opened your eyes and dared to glance down. You were met with soft eyes and a kind lopsided smile, before Sevika's attention turned to your feet to help you get rid of your pants, where they were now pooling.

When your pants were thrown next to your shirt on the floor, she turned back to you. You couldn't deny the feeling of adrenaline caused by your position. Her kneeling naked in front of you and looking up, you above her, in just your underwear and looking down. Your mind was racing and you could only focus on her dark eyes and the shadow she was casting on her breasts.

You saw it before you felt it. Her right hand slowly reaching towards your calf. You tilted your head to the left to follow its movement and when she finally caressed you, you jumped even though you were expecting it. You could feel her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from that hand. It began moving up and down a short path, from knee to ankle, occasionally stroking you with a thumb, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, and you were mesmerized.

Suddenly, in your field of vision you saw a dark movement. It was her, more specifically her hair. She was looking straight ahead, and in her kneeling position she was at your thigh level. So her attention was there and she was moving forward, towards you, towards your thigh. You understood her intent and held your breath and clenched your fists, which now you noticed were already clenched and you were pretty sure that if you were to check you would see little indentations of your nails in your palms. So you stood there, unmoving and waiting.

And then her lips made contact with the top of your thigh, a gentle kiss, accompanied by a squeeze of her hand on the back of your calf, and you felt your knees ready to buckle.

"Sevika..." You stuttered out a breath, your voice betraying your desire.

She looked up at you. Her eyes were completely black and her lips were still connected to your skin. Then you saw a little glimmer in her eyes and the beginning of a smirk, and the next moment she opened her mouth, flattened her tongue, pressed down and licked.

"F-fuck." You whispered, feeling your soul leaving your body.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your cloudy head and somehow managed to stay upright as she pulled away and stood up with an amused smile.

"How about you lie down on the bed?"

**********

taglist : @opropheticsoul @archangeldyke-all

Thanks for reading! :)

[fuckitupfelix]

hai… its me again BUT I HAVE ANOTHER SCENARIO IDEA ALSO IMMSORRY AHOUT MY OTHER ASK AUGHH IT WAS RIGHT IN UR RULES DUDE BUT BUT MY IDEA IS SCENARIO OF WHICHEVER HQ CHARACTER OF UR CHOOSING WITH AN S/O WHO HAS REALLY BAD MUSCLE STRAIN FROM PRACTISING VOLLEYBALL BUT REFUSE TO REST AND GAGAGAGA :3

DONT WORRY ABOUT IT BRO ITS ALL GOOD!!! IM GONNA COOK WITH THIS ONE TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙏🙏 actually writing now hope this doesn't turn out bad..

hit it til it breaks...?

iwaizumi hajime x male reader

word count: 1k

iwaizumi's noticed that his boyfriend, seijoh's libero, hasn't been doing his best.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

iwaizumi has seen what pushing yourself past your limits can do to you. he's seen how oikawa always strived to be the best he could, sometimes pushing himself beyond exhaustion. it takes a huge toll on your body, so iwa promised himself he'd take care of himself, and it's not exactly a secret. he pushed everyone to do the same.

so it surprised iwaizumi when he noticed (name) acting different in the past few weeks. they were all very subtle changes; he would buy coffee in the morning more often, was a bit slower with receives, and a little more tired than he usually used to be.

he was pushing himself.

that's what iwaizumi thought initially. he's seen the signs in oikawa enough times to know the aftermath of straining yourself and making your body work overtime. he decides to wait a bit, see if (name) would mention anything by himself. he didn't.

"iwaaaa," (name) called, leaning over iwaizumi's desk. "can i borrow your homework answers?"

iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at that. "you didn't get time finish it last night?" he asked, pulling out the papers. he noticed his boyfriend's hesitation before he took the papers.

"nah, only got through half of it before i went to bed. my mom had me run errands after school. y'know, groceries 'n stuff." (name) said causally. he hunched over iwaizumi's desk to quickly write down the rest of his answers before passing the worksheets back to him. "thanks!"

"yeah, no problem. . . by the way—" but (name) had left before he could ask his question.

later that day, during practice, the team was doing a spiking drill. (name)'s receives were all flawless, but iwaizumi noticed the slight stiffness of his movements. how he grit his teeth for a spike that wasn't particularly hard to get. how his feet left the ground half a second too late. how his breathing grew ragged faster than usual.

'maybe im overthinking things,' and so he shook the thoughts away. he's used to having to deal with oikawa's bullshit. maybe its made him paranoid.

he went to spike, moving fluidly. the ball went a bit of a distance away from (name)'s direction— almost halfway across the court— but he still went for it. that's when it happened.

(name) reached, pushing himself to make contact with the ball, willing himself to. and he did. he sent it up nicely— a beautiful arc straight to the net. but his body had already exhausted itself. it was too much. his face contorted in pain as he felt his leg spasm. his body slammed against the floor, his shoulder connecting with the wood panels in an odd way. his body tumbled over itself like a ragdoll. (name) just laid there.

iwaizumi darted over to (name), eyes blown wide with panic. as gently as he could, he grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up. his grip was still tight.

"(name)? (name), are you okay?" he asked, sweat dripping from his forehead onto (name).

(name)'s eyes opened, face morphing into a frown. "yeah, shit. . . sorry," he mumbled. he tried to push himself to stand, but let out a sharp groan, falling back down to the floor.

the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floors was faded as (name) and iwaizumi sat together in the club room. (name)'s leg was propped up on one of the chairs.

'how did this happen?'

sure, (name) was pushing himself more than usual, but that was because the inter-high preliminaries were right around the corner! he had to do his best so the team could go to nationals!

"hey." iwaizumi's voice drew (name) out of his thoughts. ". . . why didn't you stop?" he asked.

". . .what?"

"you were pushing yourself too hard, your body couldn't keep up, and now you can barely move your legs. why didn't you take a break?"

(name) tensed up at iwa's words. he frowned. "because i needed to do better. i needed more practice. i need to be better—"

"is this really better to you?" iwaizumi cut him off. (name) flinched at the volume. iwaizumi was pissed. "seriously, tell me. do you think pushing yourself this far helping anyone? we all need practice, but without breaks, you're doing more harm than good!"

"i know that!" (name) snaps. he glared down at the floor. his head was spinning and his legs were throbbing and he could feel his face grow hot, tears brimming in his eyes.

"i know it was stupid, i know i should have paid attention, i'm sorry. i just wanted us to do better! i wanted us to win." (name) managed. god, he knew he sounded pathetic, the way his throat closed up on him, making him sound all whiney. he rubbed the tears away with the back of his hands, his face scrunched up.

iwaizumi wasn't expecting that. he walks over, sitting next to his boyfriend. he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing (name) in to rest his head on his chest.

"hey, hey, it's okay," iwaizumi mumbled. he wasn't great at comforting people. he ran his hand along (name)'s back, rubbing circles. "c'mon. can you stand properly? i'm taking you home."

"what? come on, iwa, just give me a minute, i-i can make it for the rest of practice—"

"(name)." iwaizumi said sternly. "what you need is rest. you don't need to overexert your body anymore. and, you're banned from any type of practice until you get better." he adds.

"what?" (name) sputtered. "that's not fair!"

"of course it is, dumbass!" iwaizumi huffed, crossing his arms. "if you try to play volleyball injured, it'll get worse and take longer to heal. seriously. i don't like seeing you hurt," he adds, quieter that time.

a small smile grew on (name)'s face at that. "fine, but only cause i don't want you worrying," he chuckled. he leaned over to plant a small kiss on iwaizumi's cheek.

". . . okay, now help me up? please?"

AAAAJFHHH i hope that was okay (⁠>⁠▂⁠<���)!!! it was kind of angsty idk if you wanted that. . . lmk if i need to fix anything!!! requests are still open btw!!

divider by @/plutism !!

[hogmilked]

what's ur process for identifying cars? like what features do u look at and so on?

oh hell yeah i assume you’ve seen my other blog lol, yeah a lot of it is just years of paying attention to them and design trends, so i can usually place a general era and brand based on what logos i see, what some companies design languages were at different times, body styles, stuff like that. so even if i can’t identify an exact model, i can look at a big long boxy sedan in usually rather muted colors with a long hood but sleek profile with rectangular headlights and a specific hood emblem and know it’s a cadillac from the 70s or 80s. if i don’t know more than a brand and general era i’ll usually have to do a bit of googling but just having that preliminary knowledge helps narrow it down.

for a lot of relatively common or newer cars i usually just recognize them, i’ve hyperfixated on cars for almost 20 years, used to get tons of car enthusiast magazines and still engage with a lot of enthusiast media, so i kind of just know a shit ton of them. then it’s usually just googling to check my work/intuition and get an exact year or range of years. like i identified a toyota 4runner and specific generation of it in a video where a lot of the more obvious identifying features were only visible for a second, but in that second i recognized it even at a glimpse because i am just somebody who could recognize a car from a taillight in the dark when i was like 9. or in cases where it’s a closeup shot, like the toyota highlander from the daffy duck fish sticker post, all i had was a cut off bit of the text and the bottom of a taillight, but i know the highlander model and could estimate the general era of car based on the shape and moulding of the body contours and taillights, and narrowed it down further based on differences in the tail light housings between generations

i know that was a long explanation that probably made only so much sense but the tl;dr is autism :3

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Okay, so I’ve finished my taxes, and I’m basically out of the woods with some overwhelming work stuff, and everything turned out well with a medical situation with my mum, but I am still very tired, but I also cannot keep going without putting my preliminary thoughts on my very first viewing of season 3 down on a post…

It seems my worst characterization so far is assuming that these two idiots would learn to communicate. They haven’t, they’re stupid teenagers, they’re really bad at it, they get mad at each other for everything, and they don’t listen. And that needs to change soon if we want Wilmon endgame.

Boris, do you do couples therapy? PLEASE HELP THEM.

I think a big reason Wilhelm lashes out, besides getting caught up in his own head, is the fact that he’s also constantly afraid of saying the wrong thing and pissing Simon off. But the stakes for Simon are clearly higher. Wilhelm really needs to learn to communicate, but he’s dragging a whole life of terrible communication and zero support, so HOW is he supposed to learn, if he naturally feels afraid to open up?

It shows in the way he reacts to learning about Erik. Simon might be right, and Erik maybe just gave in to peer pressure, like everyone else in that school (which we see over and over again, like with the strike, and that guy who just repeats ‘yeah hilarious’ when Vincent tells him, and the graduation rituals and basically everything that everyone does at that fucking school), and maybe he wasn’t particularly homophobic. Or maybe he was, but if he had found out about Wilhelm maybe he would have changed his views (after all he was a stupid kid too)… But how would Wilhelm know? Erik is dead, there’s no way of asking him, confronting him about it. And people still call him perfect, and still compare him to his brother.

It must be so traumatizing to have held this person in your head as the one you trusted for everything, the one who would support you most, the one who probably knew you better than anyone else, who would love you and be there for you no matter what, and it turns out that he might not have accepted you at all. And just like that Wille is all alone and angry and afraid again.

(This is why it’s extra cruel that August posted that fucking video, especially how premeditated it was to share it over the whole world, but also then tell Wilhelm that his brother was possibly a homophobe. It doesn’t matter that he went through that horrible hazing, it doesn’t matter that he put a stop to it, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a stupid kid too, the fact that he did THAT to someone, anyone, is awful and he should have known better.)

So that scene in season 1 when Erik teases Wilhelm about his crush potentially changes completely. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it was just a coincidence that he never used any pronouns…

And that makes it even more traumatizing that his parents still think of Erik as the figure of perfection, and Wilhelm, who is queer and scandalous and rebellious, is the real thorn on their side. Fucking Ludvig saying that Erik really was perfect, that he didn’t have “that darkness inside of him”, to his surviving son… But for all we know maybe Erik’s death was not accidental, maybe he did have “a darkness” inside of him.

On the other hand, that “darkness” doesn’t excuse Kristina at all. I am convinced that this depression/burnout that she’s going through is absolute bullshit. Sure, she might be depressed, she’s still grieving her “perfect” heir, and she’s going through a lot. But it’s like Wilhelm says, how convenient that she shuts down and breaks down now. She wasn’t like this when the video happened, because she could still cover it up. And she wasn’t like this when Wilhelm called her to scream that he was going to abdicate, because she could still drag him out of Hillerska. It was only when he told the whole world, and there was no covering it up anymore, that she suddenly became fragile with grief.

And even if it were true, even if she’s going through a severe depression or burnout, as a result of everything that’s happened, that doesn’t excuse her previous lies and manipulations. And it makes the fact that she still really wants Wille to become her successor, despite knowing what it could do to him, despite knowing that he’s already extremely anxious and that he does not know how to manage his own emotions, is evil.

(And even if she wants August to be the backup too, knowing how he is, knowing his own family history, and how it could affect him too, is evil too.) MORE on this later.

Kristina uses her breakdowns to emotionally manipulate Wille into trying to do his best to be the perfect crown prince, now indirectly through Farima and Ludvig. And Wille’s so concerned with her and her fragility that it affects his relationship with Simon. Because he’s anxious about the possible imminence of having to take over, of being the new monarch, when he can barely control his own feelings, when he just wants to enjoy his first relationship and just be in love.

Of course he made things worse for himself and Simon when he publicly revealed their relationship, but we can understand where that’s coming from. He didn’t want to hide anymore, he didn’t want to not be able to be himself anymore, not be able to be with the boy he loves. But they’re still forced to hide, because people start hating on Simon, because people won’t stop talking about them (as much as I HATED Wille shushing Simon, I also understood that he didn’t want anyone to hear their argument, because he didn’t want to give people more reason to talk about them, but also there’s probably a lot of ‘keeping up appearances’ embedded in his mind), because they are very different and almost incompatible for many reasons, and because being the crown prince means conforming to a lot of things (no tattoos, no cutting your hair shorter than, no nail polish, no expressing political opinions, etc etc), and so he has to remove the nail polish and he doesn’t want his foundation to be geared toward LGBTQIA+ people or mental health issues… He can’t express himself, he can’t be himself, because what he is or who he is for real is not compatible with his role or what is expected of him… he’s so repressed still.

(The whole nail polish scene, and the scene where Simon suggests that Wille’s foundation could be geared toward LGBTQIA+ youth, reminded me a little of Isak in SKAM saying that he wasn’t just going to start marching in the Pride parade or wearing makeup. Wille is not necessarily about identity expression, or at least he doesn’t think that he should be. He just wants to be himself, and be with the boy he loves, and that’s it).

As for Simon, he can do no wrong, and I absolutely agree with everything he says and does, but he has always been very idealistic, and he does come across as a little more naïve than I expected, especially with the whole social media comments and his song. It wasn’t the first time he experienced it, because things went south for him when he appeared on the video, so for him now to think that people are magically not going to be cruel.

But I understand how much he’s sacrificing for Wille, and Wille not appreciating it at all must sting. Just like he points out that he didn’t have contact with Micke for years, for Sara’s sake, and suddenly she’s living with him… that fucking hurt. Simon has always been very opinionated and outspoken, and he’s very authentically and proudly himself, but he’s also always molded himself to what other people need, like being a parented child and taking on too much in the house to relieve Linda, and taking care of Sara, and worrying about his father, and letting himself be manipulated by Marcus, and now basically giving up a lot of himself to be with Wille. And as a result Linda treats him like he’s a drug addict, and Sara goes to the father she didn’t want to have contact with, and Marcus talks shit about him to the press, and Wille doesn’t listen to him…

Sara saw the light (sort of), so maybe hopefully Wille will too. More on that later too.

Anyway, it would have been nice for someone from the royal court to sit Simon down and explain to him what being the boyfriend of a royal involves, so that Wille doesn’t have to figure out how to tell him all these difficult things himself. Wille is so used to some of these things, they seem so obvious to him, that he might not immediately think of how weird or outlandish it might seem to Simon. (THat scene with the cake, I mean… it was funny in a way, but I wonder how many terrifying thoughts crossed Simon’s mind, the obvious “wait what??? did I just eat poison???” but also “wait what??? someone’s trying to poison my boyfriend????” and “there are kids here, have they also accidentally been poisoned????”).

I really really hope that, since he’s being forced to go to Boris with August, that Wille will think about going with Simon, and trying to work things out. They need to be able to say all these things to each other, get on the same page.

More importantly, I need a callback to what Boris said to him in season 2, about the expectations of his family, about being able to make his own choices. Which Wille internalized beautifully with that speech to Simon outside his house.

Anyway, this is already very long. Moving on to more general thoughts:

- I did think that the fact that they sort of resolved the whole issue with the police report and the drugs felt a little anticlimactic. It was built up and built up and the whole season 2 finale was about that, and we had a cliffhanger and everything, and then… bye. I wonder if it will come back (more on that later).

- And for that matter, Alexander just became a background character. Did he even have any lines? I could barely spot him.

- August telling Wilhelm in front of everyone at the table that he’s sure Wille will fuck up on his own… rich.

- Also Stella and Rosh was sort of hinted at, it happened in a blink, and then Fredrika was… jealous? Confused? Homophobic? All of the above? But then… NOTHING. Stella was even missing in the last episode, because she was “sick”… (scheduling conflicts for Felicia? Actually sick?)

- I think it’s interesting that Sara preached and preached to Simon about giving people a second chance, including their dad, and then she… goes and does it? It wasn’t the first time she did, she was with August despite the awful thing he did. And then she goes and… gives August ANOTHER chance????

- Someone needs to tell Sara that she needs to stop getting wtih August, because every time they get together somehow, Wilmon go south… It seems these two couples cannot exist simultaneously…

- So I still have to rewatch, but… is August then in the middle of selling his father’s estate to pay Simon? Are any of his friends aware of this?

- I have a cultural question: what was the whole deal about travelling to the US? I mean, I thought they were asking if these kids have never travelled abroad, but they mentioned the US specifically, several times… Is that a thing in Sweden, traveling to the US? Not any other part of Europe? Not Asia? Just wondering. Made me curious.

- Still waiting for this season’s Elias song… just one episode left… If we don’t get one, or a callback to Revolution, I might claw my face off…

- Nils repeating that maybe Wille would have been better off with someone from the inner circle. Seriously, Nils, who do you mean? WHO? Who could you be referring to? Hmm?

- Something else about Nils… a part of me really wished that Wille would have asked Nils for confirmation on the Erik thing. Wille obviously doesn’t want to believe it at first, but then he does, and hearing it from August makes it even worse, so maybe hearing it from someone like Nils would be the final confirmation that he would need, that his brother was the worst. On the other hand, for him to ask Nils to confirm something like that, as a gay, and possibly hearing what happened to him as a result of it… that would have probably made it even worse.

- Really hate that Marcus was mentioned, that he came back to haunt Simon in a way, even if it was minimal. But props to Simon for not rising to the bait in that moment.

- Simon, my love, i understand that you’re upset and heartbroken, but… it would have been nice if you tried to get Wille to talk to you one last time, before breaking up with him on his birthday… especially seeing everything he’s going through. Not that your feelings are any less important than his, of course, but… are you trying to get him to jump out the window????

-Eternally saddened by the disappearance of the orange sweater. Eternally saddened by the fact that Wilhelm did not set foot in or around Simon’s house this season. Although who knows, still one episode left…

Things that I liked most:

- Seriously the chemistry between Edvin and Omar is OFF THE CHARTS. The intimacy coordinator this season was very good.

- Especially that sex scene. Not just because it makes me immensely happy when my favorite ship fucks, because holy shit that was hot, but also because there’s a whole theme around all the hate mail and messages and classism and homophobia and toxic masculinity that Simon is a target of, especially being Latino, whilst Wille, being white and privileged and high class and the heir to the throne, is probably seen as the “man” of the relationship (especially since in the video he’s also the one “in control” whilst Simon is the receiver), so it’s very VERY satisfying to see that they are both top and bottom at times, and they both equally enjoy it.

- Also the use of choir music during the sex scene, giving it a very holy feel, much like Elias’s Holy playing when they have sex again in season 2… seriously I NEED my Elias song this season or I WILL START A REVOLUTION.

- At first I was annoyed at the whole “school possibly closing” plotline, because I thought it was unneeded. Or that maybe it would play a bigger role in the whole video-drugs controversy. But the truth is that it was really good, how it highlighted these kids’ privilege and the absurdity of wanting to cover things up and uphold traditions, and it also worked wonderfully to highlight the divide between Simon and Wille. As Simon says to Wille, he only takes a stand when he has nothing to lose.

- Felice. Felice this whole season was magnificent. Her whole breakdown over the end of her friendship with Sara, showing how truly important it was to her. And Madison saying that sometimes breaking up with a friend is worse than getting dumped, and I AGREE SO MUCH. But then I also think she loses her sense of self, because despite being popular and beautiful, she still gets used and treated badly, by August (obviously), but also by Wille (the kiss), and worst of all by Sara (who in a way used her for her horse, but also for the clout). And in the meantime, she’s treated differently than the other students for being one of the few black girls, and she gets singled out for her hair… and yet, the school is using her to make themselves look good. And now she decides to give Sara a second chance, because she really missed her, because it really hurt to lose that friend, and Sara goes and… does that…

- One of my favorite things about Simon is how he is proof that just because you’re gay doesn’t mean that you have flawless fashion sense. And i can’t help but wonder how fashion and style icon/ELLE’s Best Dressed Man/OMR Beauty founder Omar feels about Simon’s fashion choices. Never change, Simon, never change.

- Vincent was every bit of the tremendous asshole that I hoped he’d be this season. Did not disappoint. I wanted to punch him in the face every time he opened his mouth. Marvellous.

- I’m happy that we got more Madison, but still not enough. Still, iconic. Forever one of my favorite characters.

- I don’t know what to say about Sara and Micke. Just maybe that, when he played that song in the car, even before they started singing, i just knew “oh fuck, it’s all going to shit soon…” I guess Sara felt lost enough that she was suddenly willing to give him a second chance. And the whole “is that going to happen to me?” bit really made me sad. That she understands that mental health and mental illness is unfortunately many times hereditary, and worries that she might become just like him… But despite not being entirely like him, with addiction problems and such, she was still unreliable like him, she did bad things to her family like he did… I was rooting for you, Micke, we were all rooting for you.

- I feel that August’s love for status and for the monarchy might be starting to fray at the edges. First with the fact that he was reminded of his own traumatizing initiation, and reminded of how the crown prince, his cousin and friend and idol, himself was part of that. Second with the fact that Simon points out that he might have an eating disorder, how he would probably not fare any better than the queen if he were in such a stressful position as crown prince or king, how difficult it is for him to handle stress and anxiety. And third with seeing how it affects Wille and Simon and realizing that something similar might still happen to him and Sara. And the fact that he reveals to Sara why he is the way he is, that he lets his guard down with her, might point to even more growth (even though I hate that Sara sort of gave him a “second chance” again). Also I feel the reality of how they, the Royal Court, would control his life is finally sinking in. Hopefully he will also soon realize that they also use him as a manipulation tool. So maybe he won’t let himself be manipulated by them much longer.

- I loved Wille’s ultimate outburst at his mother and father, i love that he told them everything they needed to hear, about their emotional abuse, their neglect. Unfortunately they still refused to acknowledge how terrible parents they have been, and walked off, instead of trying to resolve it. So Wille throwing around the gifts, as impulsive and tantrum-ish it might come across, makes perfect sense. He tries to talk and gets nothing in return. If he’s repressed it’s bad, but if he expresses himself then nothing happens either.

- And I love that Simon got to see what Wille is really dealing with. As privileged as he might be, he’s still lacking the most important things: unconditional support and love. No amount of money or status can make it better, and Wille is broken. The only thing is that, Simon saw how broken Wille was over the death of his brother, whom he loved very much, but I don’t think he quite grasps the gravity of Wille learning that maybe that beloved brother wouldn’t have been so cool with him, because he has never had to deal with a parent or sibling rejecting him for his sexuality. It’s something very different to be rejected by society at large than it is to be rejected by your own family, and not everyone has the emotional strength to deal with that. So for Wille’s parents to still like his potentially homophobic dead brother more than him, is heart-wrenching. But I don’t think Simon really gets that because he’s probably not surprised that Erik might have been like that, because in his eyes those privileged kids in that school (except obviously Wille, and Felice and Madison, who is asking about the non-binaries) are probably all massive homophobes.

- Despite this, I love that Simon sets boundaries nonetheless. I mean, it hurt like fucking hell for him to tell Wille, on his fucking birthday, that maybe they shouldn’t be together. But just because Wille is hurting doesn’t mean that Simon has not also been hurting too. And if they can’t comfort each other, and try to support each other when they both obviously most need it, then maybe they’re just not going to work. And it took a lot of guts for Simon to bring it up in that moment, in Wille’s bed, in the palace, where he’s basically trapped, with nowhere to go, no way to get away (I doubt he called Linda in the middle of the night to come pick him up more than two hours away in Stockholm).

My hopes for the final episode (I don’t think I have any predictions other than, open ending or not, Wilmon will be endgame and there will be a revolution, I just don’t know how):

- Wilmon talk. An actual, healthy, heartfelt talk. A reconciliation for the ages.

- That the fucking school will close and August won’t be able to graduate, and he’ll realize that maybe he shouldn’t have “lived for that school”, as Erik once put it.

- That Wille will realize that, if Erik was not the person he thought he was, then maybe he no longer has to live up to his legacy anymore. @foreverunraveling pointed out how, now that the big Erik revelation is confirmed, then maybe the queen’s trump card to manipulate Wille into being the ideal crown prince is gone. Wille doesn’t care about the monarchy really, but he did care about not disappointing his brother, the “perfect crown prince”, and now we know that he was far from perfect. Erik lived a double life, as Wille points out, there was “public Erik” or crown prince Erik, and there was “private Erik”, or the real Erik (or so Wille thought, now we know there was a “secret Erik” which was the real Erik) and Wille struggles so much with the idea of having to split himself in two, . Wille cannot live a double life, he withers away when he has to hide himself, and now he gets the opportunity to leave that stifling life behind, and blossom.

- That Simon will get a fucking break. I hate that his whole life was turned upside down from the moment the video was leaked, and it’s just never going to be the same, whether he stays with Wille or not, he’ll always be the boy from the crown prince sex tape, he’ll always be the crown prince’s ex, or the crown prince’s boyfriend. But I want some positive feedback for him, someone bigger than the woman and the little boy wanting a selfie. I want him to have his own fanclub or something. Maybe that’s too idealistic…? (I may be imagining something like that scene in Red White and Royal Blue, when they realize that there’s a whole crowd outside the palace all excited to the the Prince and his First son boyfriend… one can dream).

- I want whatever Felice said during the interview to be taken seriously, and for her to stop doubting herself.

- I want a genuine apology from August.

- Also one from Kristina.

- I get the feeling that the fact that August leaked the video might still come out publicly, what with the whole school issue. And in that case, I would like for it to be Simon might to do it, tossing the money from the settlement in his face. It looks like Simon still feels guilty about accepting it, especially when he chided Wille about his privilege and Wille (figuratively) threw the money back in his face. What if Simon does it literally?

- I really wanna know what’s going to happen between Felice and Sara now. The outlook is not good.

- Is it too much to ask to know what’s going on between Stella and Fredrika?

- Most importantly, is the whole thing with Erik going to come out eventually? And how will people react? With support for the monarchy, or with support for Wille?

I have so many more thoughts, but I’m slightly burnt out, and I really should take a break. Also this is way too long. Might have more thoughts once I’ve rewatched the first five episodes, calmly over the weekend…

Also this is very long and I’m sorry.

[janmisali]

Super Mario Bracket: HONORABLE MENTIONS

so then! now that round one is wrapped up and the first batch of round two's polls have been posted, (note: tumblr glitched and posted this too early so that's not in fact true yet as of when this is being posted) now's a good time to go through some of the characters from the preliminary nomination process that didn't make the cut!

the ones that barely didn't make it

while every character with at least six nominations made it into the bracket (with the exception of four ineligible "characters"), only the "first" few characters with five nominations (with the tie-breaking order decided by who had their first nominations earliest) made it in. so, here are all the characters that got five nominations that aren't in the bracket, in order of when they were first nominated (there's quite a few!):

Talking Flower, from Super Mario Bros. Wonder

Antasma, from Dream Team

Big Daddy of Blooper-surfing, from Super Mario Sunshine

Thwomp, from Super Mario Bros. 3

Koopa Troopa, from Super Mario Bros.

Big Top, from Mario Party 8 (I don't know why the Super Mario Wiki has MC Ballyhoo and Big Top as two separate articles. Big Top is MC Ballyhoo's hat)

Thwimp, from Super Mario World

Joan of Arc, from Mario's Time Machine

Bouldergeist, from Super Mario Galaxy

Shakespeare, from Mario's Time Machine

Bob-omb, from Doki Doki Panic / Super Mario USA

Reznor, from Super Mario World

Julius Caesar, from Mario's Time Machine

Diddy Kong, from Donkey Kong Country

Baby Luma, from Super Mario Galaxy

Eggman Nega, from Mario & Sonic at the Olympic Winter Games

Cosmic Mario, from Super Mario Galaxy

Goombette, from Super Mario Odyssey

Lakitu (Mario Kart referee), from Super Mario Kart

Lumalee, from Super Mario Galaxy

Watt, from Paper Mario

Pyoro, from Mega Microgame$!

Johnny, from Super Mario RPG

Inspector Gadget, from Super Show!

Lakitu, from Super Mario Bros.

Yamamura, from Super Mario Maker

Princess Shroob, from Partners in Time

Larry Koopa, from Super Mario Bros. 3

Mad Piano, from Super Mario 64

Bowsette

a lot of people wanted to nominate Bowsette, but since she doesn't have a Super Mario Wiki article she is not eligible, and in fact the nomination form mechanically prevented people from submitting a nomination without providing a Super Mario Wiki link. however, if I had counted nominations based on what conceptual character people were trying to nominate instead of just looking at the provided Super Mario Wiki article, Bowsette would have made it into the top 128, and I would have had to exclude her manually.

the nominations that mentioned Bowsette by name consisted of:

one nomination for Bowser

three nominations for Peachette

one nomination for Undodog, inexplicably

three nominations for Bowletta

three nominations for List of references on the Internet, the actual Super Mario Wiki article that covers Bowsette (among other topics)

one nomination for the Super Crown

one nomination for File:Peach Bowser Concept TAoSMO.jpg

technicalities

as you might have noticed from the 128 characters that did make it into the bracket, a lot of nominations were for subjects that, under some technicality, qualify as a "Mario character". disappointingly, the technicalities that didn't make it into the bracket were, generally speaking, really boring. the main types of not-really-Mario-characters people nominated were:

crossover characters, Sonic characters especially

real-ass people. I'm pretty sure every single person in the Super Mario Wiki's Category:People was nominated at least once. after making a poll about it, I decided that real people are only eligible if they appear in some piece of official Mario media as a fictional version of themself, so real people with entirely nonfictional relevance to Mario are disqualified

non-characters. none of the specific nominations of this type that didn't make it into the bracket are really worth highlighting; it's just random stuff that happens to have a Super Mario Wiki article

typographic characters, which were disappointingly uncommon. Letter (Super Mario Odyssey) only got one nomination!

the Super Mario Wiki's Mario Awards polls (concurrent)

at the time of writing, votes are open for the Super Mario Wiki's 2023 Mario Awards. here's how many nominations each character in their "favorite character" polls got for this bracket!

Favorite Major Character

Luigi: 104

Rosalina: 101

Waluigi: 90

Princess Daisy: 81

Yoshi: 71

Mario: 56

Wario: 45

Bowser: 45

Toadette: 31

Princess Peach: 27

Toad: 21

Bowser Jr.: 15

Donkey Kong: 10

Favorite Supporting Character

Catherine: 66

Nabbit: 42

Captain Toad: 24

King Boo: 22

Funky Kong: 22

Kamek: 20

Ashley: 14

Professor E. Gadd: 10

King Bob-omb: 9

Toadsworth: 8

Cappy: 8

Pauline: 7

Poochy: 6

Diddy Kong: 5

Prince Florian: 2

Dixie Kong: 2

Grape: 1

Stella: 0

Favorite Mario RPG Character

Vivian: 215

Fawful: 59

Dimentio: 51

Goombella: 45

Count Bleck: 34

Geno: 16

?????: 14

Admiral Bobbery: 12

Popple: 9

Bobby/Bob-omb: 8

Mallow: 8

Huey: 6

Booster: 4

Rabbid Peach: 3

Goombario: 2

Olivia: 1

King Olly: 1

Lord Crump: 0

[covenha]

Halloween Yunho drabble

Prompt: “You know, I did try to warn you. But you just had to keep sticking your nose where it shouldn’t.” Genre: Thriller/Horror Warnings: profanity, explicit violence, murder, mentions of drugs and death threats, mdni WC: 949 a/n: I cannot stress enough that this is fiction. This does not portray the people in this story in any way, shape, or form. And please read the warnings carefully, you are in charge of what you consume on the internet. If I missed any content warnings please let me know. Feedbacks and reblogs are always deeply appreciated!

“Maybe you should ask for an assistant. Or maybe, a leave? Do college club managers even have them?” Maya rambles on about how you should take a rest. 

You had been swamped. Being appointed the swim team’s manager two-thirds of the way through the semester had not been something you planned on doing initially. But, the title was something that you thought would fit quite nicely on your resume as a physical therapist that wanted to specialize in sports rehabilitation. The previous manager, Wonbin, had abruptly quit after his brother’s body was found in a lake in the outskirts of town. You couldn’t blame him. He and Seonghwa were practically inseparable. It must’ve been unbearable for him to associate himself with the sport when it reminded him so much of his brother. 

The two of you stop at the entryway to the university pool. 

“I know I may seem tired, but I’ll be fine. I’m just getting used to this schedule and stuff.” I say, with a tight-lipped smile. I don’t know who I was trying to convince, Maya or myself? 

“Be honest, did you take the position so you could stare at cute boys in swim trunks?” Maya whispers at me. This makes me chuckle. 

“Well…..” I say, as I jokingly tuck my hair behind my ears. Maya bursts into a giggle herself before shaking her head then bidding me goodbye. 

When I get to coach Choi’s office, he has a full stack of paperwork waiting on my desk waiting for me. 

“Ah, y/n. Glad to see you. I have a meeting with the other coaches in the district about the upcoming preliminaries, and I need to do research on the teams that will be participating this year. I know it’s a lot, but you’re a bright kid. I know you can get it done.” coach Choi gives me a strong pat on the back before rushing out the door. 

“Don’t forget to lock up when you’re done or else we’ll get in trouble with security!” he yells, right before shutting the door. 

You sigh, it was going to be a long night. 

-----

You wake up with a sharp inhale. The office lamp is all that illuminates coach Choi’s office. The computer monitor had long since powered off from inactivity. Your neck hurt from sleeping in such an awful position. You shake your head and decide to finish the work tomorrow. There was no way you could get any quality research done when your body was so exhausted anyway. You stand up to collect your things and get ready to leave for your dorm. You turn off the lamp and make sure to lock the door on the way out. 

You hear a ruckus in the men’s shower room. Strange. It was well into the evening and swim practice had ended around an hour and a half ago. You approach the locker room, purely just to scold whoever was staying in way past the allowed swimming hours. As you walk in the locker room, you stop in your tracks when you hear a certain voice.  

Wonbin?

“I fucking know it was you! How could you do that to your own teammate! After everything he fucking did for you?!” Wonbin shouted. His voice was distraught, filled with a rage that was not at all like the kind and smiley boy you knew him as. 

“God. Will you just shut up?”

Yunho? Jeong Yunho? The junior ace of the swim team that was next in line to become the swim team captain after Seonghwa graduated? And what is Wonbin even talking about? “You didn’t like that he was scouted for the Olympic team instead of you.” Wonbin starts. “So you drugged him, dumped him in a lake, and made it look like an overdose.” 

Yunho just scoffs at his statement. “And you were the one who sent me death threats.” Wonbin accuses. 

“You know, I did try to warn you. But you just had to keep sticking your nose where it shouldn’t.” Yunho dismisses. 

A shiver goes down your spine. Seonghwa was murdered? But the police report- Your train of thought was interrupted by a commotion. You hear a shuffle right before a struggle ensues between them. Bodies slamming against the lockers, punches being thrown, and profanities being screamed. They were moving closer to where you had been huddled behind a bunch of lockers. You were trapped. There was no way you could exit without being caught. So this is when you make the single handedly biggest mistake of your life. 

You hide inside a locker. 

For what feels like hours, you hear the fight grow closer. Then Yunho slams Wonbin to a locker across from the one you were hiding in. Tears are streaming down your face at this point. He wraps his arms around his neck and squeezes, causing him to gasp for air and struggle against his grip. All of which are futile as Yunho clearly has the physical upperhand. 

“God. You are just like him. Always so headstrong. Always so stubborn. Always so selfish. He got what he deserved. And now, you will too.” 

Slowly, you start to see the life drain from his eyes. He struggles less and less. Then he stops altogether. A deafening plop is heard as Yunho lets go of him and he falls to the floor. You cover your mouth and try to even out your breathing. The horrific scene before you ingrained into your retinas. 

“You know,” Yunho starts, his back towards you, looking down at Wonbin’s dead body.  “I usually love it when people scream for me during my swim meets.” 

Then he looks directly in your direction.

[lazywitchling]

Alright, I’ve just finished Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller.

Summary:

8/10 if I can ignore the author

7/10 if I can’t

So here’s the thing. I have come out of this book with a deep distaste for this guy. He just… oof, there are times that he just reads like a twitter tech bro who, within ten minutes of meeting him, will tell you all of the famous people who follow him on twitter. There’s just something about the constant name-dropping of Super Cool and Edgy spirits that just got on my nerves to no end. Like, buddy, can I get some more examples of you working with local no-name spirits in your area? Spirits that are just a lil guy? Or do they ALL have to be big name demons from ancient grimoires and cryptids from local legends and shit?

Also, yeah there’s too many times where he’s… maybe not always outright saying, but definitely heavily implying that closed cultures can be yours to take from if you really really really want to. I don’t love that.

AND chapter 2 definitely opens with a little example story of how Dave Chapelle’s Netflix comedy special is a case of people just ~*~*not understanding a joke and being too sensitive*~*~ and HELLO SIR????????

(He doesn’t specifically say it’s that comedy special, but check the timeline of writing vs that comedy special. It’s 100% what it is.)

So. Yeah. I’d love to meet this guy so I can throw a drink in his face.

THAT BEING SAID.

I am so annoyed to say that as much as I hated this guy, that’s how much I loved the book.

UGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Friggin’… out here like goddamned Dabbler’s Guide to Witchcraft. WILL YOU PLEASE LET ME HATE YOUR BOOK?? I WANT TO!

But no, it’s actually a pretty good one. Best ever? Nah. But good. I am definitely better for having read it, and it gave me a lot of stuff to think about. There’s a section about how you *can’t* be bad at meditating, and it just… [chef kiss]. It was a really good section and I’m very glad to have read it.

Some of the criticisms I’ve heard of this book is that if you’re not interested in working with Hekate, St Cyprian, or Astaroth, then this book isn’t going to be very useful. And I can see what they mean, because they make up the bulk of the examples in the book. You’d think they were the only entities out there to work with. But though Jason isn’t always the best about saying it, the Hekate/Cyprian/Astaroth rituals are supposed to be examples of how to structure your own thing to fit the entities you work with.

There’s good, practical advice about working with and communicating with spirits, and it’s stuff you can actually put into practice. Additionally, I don’t recall him having any real “You need to buy this fancy thing!” stuff in there, which is nice. Even the anti-capitalist witch books I’ve read have had SOME kind of consumer element to them.

He says that this should not be your first witch book, and I (sort of) agree. This isn’t a basic-witchcraft text, so you should know how to put together some basic protection, do some divination, etc. There’s a good quote in chapter 7 that says “If every book has to contain every possible preliminary and protection, then there will never be room for the substance of the book itself.” I LOVE that. I’ve read too many books that are supposed to be about some specialty, but they spend so long rehashing the basics that they barely even touch on the thing the book is supposed to be about.

That being said, while I wouldn’t consider this a Basic Witchcraft book, I would consider it a Basic Spirit Work book. If you know what you’re doing and you consider yourself a spirit worker, I don’t know that you’ll really get anything much out of this book. If you want to learn to be a spirit worker, though, this one has enough foundational things in it to get you started, imo.

(This is the part where I usually link you to the book in the Portland Button Works shop, because I want you to buy things from Alex, but I don’t see the book there anymore? idk if it’s gone gone or if it’ll restock. Anyway. Support your local bookstore, support witches with indie bookstores, etc.)

[takes1]

p.2 nishinoya x gn!reader. childhood friends

nishinoya being a little nervous is very fun to write :,)

warnings. none! details. sfw / fluff / maybe light angst / gn!reader / shiratorizawa!reader / childhood friends / checking each other out / taller!reader / good ending / multipart series / 1.8k words ��� haikyuu collection / part one here more links. my ao3, my other stuff. request box

"Would you quit skipping?" Coach Ukai sighed.

He truly didn't mind it, not even the sound of his shoes scraping the concrete, but thought what his new hire might think if they just happened to be taking out the trash, or looking out the window, if they saw this childish display of excitement.

Nishinoya was hesitant, but willing to cooperate. Alas, his hands clenched up into tight fists and the way he had to walk to keep it all in looked even dumber.

Another sigh. He really didn't want to deal with him if this went sour and the poor kid showed up to practice, depressed and uncooperative.

In fact, he simply forbid this little encounter with the Spring Preliminaries approaching.

He first noticed, of course, when Nishinoya's sharp ear caught his conversation that one afternoon a week ago, but he wasn't allowed the privilege of forgetting when nearly every practice after, his libero was requesting to walk with him to the convenience store.

One thing he was sure of was that you just didn't seem the type to enjoy Nishinoya's tricky company.

Your more laid-back, cool temperament combined with an off-the-rails excited guy, whom you might not even remember, was a recipe for disaster in his book.

Nishinoya even showed up that weekend, completely bummed you didn't happen to be working. He requested your work schedule and was denied based on the principle of a 'Worker's Protection' law.

It wasn't until Ukai realized the build-up of nerves was slowly killing him that he finally offered to walk with him and (quietly) monitor your meeting. On the grounds that he bought something, of course.

Ukai didn't try to settle him further, even when they rounded the corner to find a gaggle of teenagers loitering outside, smoking, and kicking a metal can around.

They tensed up when he walked through them. Some eyed his walking partner, some paid zero attention. The bell jingled as he pushed through, but he paused to let Nishinoya inside first and shout, "Y'all better buy something today!!"

A collective groan got cut short as the door closed behind him.

His gruff voice brushed past Nishinoya's stock-still body in the middle of the way--

"You're more trouble than you're worth, y'know that, kid?"

You were crouched by the refrigerated drinks on the very bottom row, shoving your arm all the way back to fix a piece of broken plastic so you could keep stocking bottles. Multiple opened boxes of soda surrounded the floor near you.

This place was a dump, but you needed the cash.

"Ohh, I thought that was what you were going for when you hired me," You scoffed, completely unbothered by his seniority over your job security.

Nishinoya was surprised to hear a genuine laugh from his coach. The sarcasm was new.

He approached the counter and craned his head to get a better look at how else you'd changed. Just as he was able to get a glance at your face under your cap, his view was obstructed by a newspaper swatting around in the air.

"Go buy something, Nishinoya," Ukai grumbled and groaned as he took his seat at the register, chair creaking.

A couple flicks of his lighter calmed him and eased his growing impatience, "And say somethin' already."

He sighed out the smoke through the side of his mouth. The kid's silence was creepy.

"Noya?" Your jaw was practically on the floor at the sight of your old neighbor, "No way!"

"Hey!!" You said at the same time, grinning.

When you stood up, it jogged his body full of energy he didn't need, and he quickly approached you- a strange mixture of anxiety, nostalgia, and relief pinging around in his head.

You were both laughing, looking each other up and down.

Your arms automatically raised for a hug. He had no second-thoughts to take you up on the offer.

He tripped forward a bit on one of the boxes of glass bottles in front of you, but you caught him before he could break any or tumble.

The hug felt way weirder than either of you were prepared for. His arms around your waist squeezed harder than you were expecting, and his back under your palms was much bigger than you remembered. He smelled like sweat and a nice cologne.

"That's coming out of your paycheck." Ukai shouted, monotone.

It was a good signal to let each other go, because a hug wasn't the best idea in hindsight.

The air felt thick and unsure for a difficult moment. There was everything and nothing to say at the same time.

"You're so tall now!" Nishinoya sighed, but there was no hint of jealousy. Just admiration for your new trait. At least one of you made it.

He did look amusingly similar to the last time you'd seen him.

"You're so-- built!" You affirmed, hands flying to grab his strong shoulders. His forearms and legs were well-defined and made him look healthy.

Of course he wasn't big, but it was clear he was in tip-top shape. You were beyond grateful he was taking good care of himself.

He choked on a nervous laugh- face lighting up bright red at your overexcited compliment. You blushed a bit at how easily you gave it and his ensuing coughing fit.

"Sorry..." You bit your lip. Yeah, you weren't besties anymore- it was a difficult reminder.

"No-g-hod, ah--," He cleared his throat and caught Ukai, feet up on the counter, with a smug look under his hand.

"It's so good to see you again," You tried to patch the approaching lull with a quiet, genuine statement.

The color on his face didn't go away, but he was happy to talk.

"I can't believe we didn't get each other's numbers before!" He laughed.

The vintage t-shirt you had on, baggy pants, and really nice sneakers reminded him a bit of Tanaka's style. In fact, you looked a lot like those teenagers outside.

The cool-ness you radiated was intimidating when he thought about it too hard. All he had on was a plain white shirt and black shorts his grandpa got him from some department store.

You were quick to whip your phone out before both of you forgot, trying to bite back the big grin on your face as you recalled, "Well, I didn't have a phone back then- and yours was broken, remember?"

A bit fumbly, he eventually clicked through the right apps to get to a spot where he could add you as a contact.

"Right!! I fell off my..." He trailed, wincing at the memory, "Fell off my bike. Down that ditch."

You returned his phone to him with your contact saved. He quickly tried to re-type his number in a few times on yours, but his excess energy was jumbling the numbers under his thumbs. God, they all looked like fives.

"You still have that scar?" You asked, grinning at the smiley face he sent you.

Nishinoya gave an enthusiastic nod and lifted one side of his shirt up to his chest. That familiar gash was now a light pink, but still pretty thick line. Your eyes flickered over the rest of his over-developed serratus muscles.

He was looking at it hard, too, and tucked his shirt in his teeth as he ran a couple fingers over the different texture. You glanced from one aisle on your right, to the drink fridge, back to his really nice body.

Only a bit muffled, he stated, distracted, "Took forever t' heal up."

When he let his shirt fall, there was a bite spot on the bottom hem. He used his forearm to wipe his mouth with. A big, stupid grin back up at you.

You realized you should probably keep stocking drinks when the door rang. Nishinoya shifted to sit next to you, as out of the way as he could get. You settled back to doing your last task before your shift could end.

"How's Karasuno?"

The question made him look a little bigger, a bit happier, "It's great! I'm the libero for the volleyball team there."

Nishinoya always loved volleyball. He'd talk your ear off about it to the point you used to block him out most of the time. You never cared much about it, but it made him beyond happy. To be a starter on the team must've been so important to him.

Excited, you gave his shoulder a shove with a giant smile, "That's so awesome!! Fuck, that's-- wow, man."

Aware of the lore behind the school, you suggested, "Maybe you're what they needed over there."

His head was buzzing. He realized he didn't get many compliments from anyone outside of the team. It carried a strange and alluring weight.

"How's Shiratorizawa?"

You shrugged with the faintest smile, "It's fine. Not exactly Chidoriyama."

He gave an easy, polite giggle at the reference to your shared antics in the good old days. He wanted to ask for more details, why that smile looked so sad, but decided against it.

After you added the last of the stock in, Ukai let Nishinoya help you break down the boxes and take them to the recycling on the way out.

"Thank you!" Nishinoya dropped some cash on the counter for a 16-oz Pocari Sweat as he zoomed out the door to catch up to you, arms filled with cardboard.

It was nearly getting to be spring, but towards the end of the day after the sun was down, it always took a harsh, cold turn.

You were both shivering with no jackets on your walk to the bus stop.

"--There's a lot that old man doesn't tell me," You rolled your eyes at the realization your boss had been the Karasuno volleyball coach, and the fact that it didn't come up once yet, "He lets me figure shit out on my own."

Nishinoya, once again, was taken aback by the way you talked about his feared and respected coach.

"He must like you a lot, though! I've never heard anyone talk to Coach that way," His tone expressed more astonishment than anything.

You shrugged, hands stuffed deep in your pockets, "Maybe."

Ukai was more or less your only mentor right now. Your parents were frequently away on business trips and school was somehow more alienating- the private academy's appeal lasted as long as it took to spit the name out for you.

Two years ago, when you got news that you passed that impossible entrance exam, it didn't occur to you that Nishinoya wouldn't. Not until he told you on his doorstep.

He called you 'lucky' to have been accepted, but it couldn't have felt any further from the truth.

The people at Shit-torizawa, as you called it, were a bunch of fakes and Daddy's money rich kids who'd never known struggle. Things had been grey for a while, and this winter was particularly tough.

Being able to see Nishinoya again was like feeling the warmth of a long-forgotten sun on your skin.

The bus crawled to a stop and sighed as it opened the doors for just you.

"Let's hang out soon!" He held his hand out for a fist bump.

It was leagues more comfortable to return than a hug.

"Hell yeah, shoot me a text!"

taglist:

none! reply to be added for the next part

[willalove75]

hi, i hope you know that you're one of my favourite fanfic writers when it comes to lady dimitrescu x reader! can I request something angsty? i just want something to cry about. can you do a fic where lady dimitrescu insists on taking care of a stubborn y/n after finding out that y/n has an incurable illness, but then it's too late because the reader is on her death bed? I love your works so much! 💖✨

AW thank you SO much!!!💕

I love this request and I already know it's going to be heartbreaking.

LETS GET SAD!

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI

Tags: death, sickness, grieving

A/n: I cried writing this so you're welcome😅😂

It started off slowly, you woke up most mornings still tired even after a full nights rest, your legs started to feel weak, your nose sprung a leak a few times. You thought you were just run down and didn't think much of it.

You didn't think there were any problems until Alcina fed from you for the first time in awhile after a night of passionate love making.

The moment your blood touched her tongue she pulled away.

"Draga,"

"What? What's the matter?" Her eyes were wide and filled with fear. "Alci, what's wrong?"

"Your blood." Her breathing was becoming labored and her hands started to tremble.

"Baby, what's wrong-"

"Have you been feeling okay? Has something been wrong?"

"I've been fine, a little more tired than usual, my legs have been tired, but nothing massive, nothing really concerning. I've just been run down. Why? Alcina, what's wrong?"

"There's something wrong with your blood."

"What?"

"The taste, it's not right. Somethings wrong, draga."

"What's wrong? What do you mean it doesn't taste right?"

"I- I can't explain it, like there's something in your blood. Like it's sick," you see a lightbulb go off in her head and her eyes fill with tears as she looks down at you. "it's sick. Your blood is sick draga mea."

You move to sit up and you realize the pillowcase underneath you is stuck to you. It's soaked in blood.

"Oh gods, shit." Alcina mutters before flying into the bathroom and running out with gauze and bandages. You rarely hear her curse so you know she's really freaked out when she does. "Have your wounds had trouble closing lately?" She asks as she bandages you up.

"I mean, I don't think so. I got a papercut the other day and it bleed for like, maybe thirty minutes? But I just thought it was a deep cut. I didn't think much of it."

"Damnit." She says, wiping away tears.

"Hey, hey, come here." You say, pulling her down into you. "It's okay, everything is going to be okay."

The way Alcina was reacting was definitely scaring you a little, but you were never going to admit that to her, or yourself.

"We are going to the city first thing tomorrow morning to get you looked at."

"Why? There's a physician in the village-"

"No. The physicians are better in the city and they have better equipment and the latest technology. Do not argue with me, my word is final."

"Okay, okay, we'll go in the morning. Just lay down, relax. Everything is going to be okay, alright?"

The two of you lay in each others arms in silence for some time. You can feel her warm tears falling against your chest and you run your hands through her hair and kiss the top of her head.

"What's the matter, love?"

"I'm scared, draga." She whispers.

"How bad was it?"

"It was bad."

As dramatic as Alcina could be at times, you knew when it came to medical stuff she was level headed. She had a lot of knowledge and experience in all of her years and when she gave someone a preliminary diagnosis before they could see the doctor, she was usually right.

Fear creeped into your chest at her response. If she's saying it was bad, then it was bad.

The next morning Alcina woke you up and helped you get dressed. You were more than capable of doing it yourself but you know that she was worried so you let her help. As you're about to head downstairs she lifts you up and carries you.

"Love, I can walk."

Alcina says nothing and tightens her grip on you and brings you out to the carriage.

The ride to the city was oddly silent. Alcina stared out the window almost the entire time. You could see the worry on her face, that she was teetering on the edge of a downward spiral.

"Hey," you say, grabbing her hand that's tightly clenched in her lap. "look at me." She slowly shifts her gaze towards you and meets your eyes. "Whatever happens, we'll be okay. We'll figure it out, okay?"

Her eyes begin to tear up again and she wipes the ones that escape as she looks away. You decide to crawl into her lap, cuddling into her and resting your head on her chest. She wraps her arms around you and rests her cheek against the top of your head. You can hear her heart pounding away inside of her chest with anxiety and fear.

After arriving at the office you have to convince Alcina to let you walk on your own and she reluctantly lets you.

Alcina refuses to leave your side for a moment, even when you're going through your testing. Usually these tests can take weeks to get the results of, but with enough lei and a threatening stare from Alcina, they said they should have most of the results in a few hours.

The day seemed to drag on for hours but finally the results were in. The doctor sat across from the two of you at his desk and Alcina gripped your hand as tight as she could without hurting you. The moment you looked into his eyes, you knew Alcina was right. It was bad, really bad. You were dying and there wasn't much they were able to do. He talked about some experimental treatments that were available that could buy you more time, but not much.

Alcina froze at the news. Her breathing was so shallow you could barely see the rise and fall of her chest. A crack echoed through the room and you realize that she cracked the wooden arm of the chair she was holding onto with her other hand.

"So you're saying, there's nothing to be done?" Her voice has no emotion in it, like it was stone.

"Nothing that can cure it, no. I'm sorry."

"How much time?" You ask as tears fill your eyes.

He tells you it could be as long as a year, but more than likely less.

Alcina quickly stands and sends the chair she was in flying backwards. She looks down at you and opens her mouth to speak but no words come out. You know she has to get out of here, that she's trying to keep the beast inside of her tamed but she's losing control. Looking back at her with understanding eyes, she leaves the room without saying a word and you hear her footsteps quickly retreating down the hall.

The doctor looks at you with both confusion and fear. It's not like the rumors of the village and the castle haven't spread to local cities such as this. That's probably why you were able to be seen and get your results to quickly. No one wanted to find out if the rumors were true or not.

A few minutes later you hear a scream that shakes the building and the sounds of people in the streets screaming. You lower your head for a moment, trying to keep your heart from shattering in your chest before walking over to the window. Outside you see Alcina, her dragon form flying through the air, pained screams echoing through the streets. She flies off towards the woods and you lose control of the tears you were keeping at bay.

The doctor gave you a folder with your results and the few treatment options you had available as the sound of trees being knocked down and thrown echo in the distance. When you were finished you had the carriage drop you off at the edge of the forest and you followed the heart-shattering cries of your wife until you found her uprooting trees and destroying everything in sight.

You could tell she was losing steam because her movements were slowed and she wasn't throwing trees nearly as far as you knew she could. Carefully approaching, she turned towards you when she heard your heartbeat and the beast screamed at you, begging you to stay away. But you couldn't, you wouldn't.

As you walked up to her, you placed a hand on one of the jaws of her dragon and leaned your head against it.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered to her as tears fell.

Soon after the beast began to crumble away into dust your wife fell to her knees in the debris. You pulled the robe you took from the carriage - that was kept for moments just like this when she returns from her beast form - around her bare shoulders and pried her hands away from her tear stained face. She pulled you into her, bringing you as close as you could be without being squished, and sobbed. You wrapped your arms around her neck and sobbed into her as well.

The two of you stayed there for who knows how long, only parting when neither of you had any tears left to cry. The sun had sunk below the mountains some time ago and you and Alcina walked through the dark forest back to the carriage with your hearts shattered in your chests.

Hearing that news was dreadful but what you dreaded more was telling the girls, your daughters, that you were dying. They were worried all day when they realized the two of you left early in the morning and hadn't come home. When you finally arrived home they knew something was terribly wrong the second they heard yours and Alcina's heartbeats.

To say they were devastated was an understatement. Daniela clung to for dear life as she sobbed hysterically, Bela held tightly onto her mother and Cassandra immediately flew into the dungeon and started throwing things around in anger.

The following weeks were somber, it was hard for the girls to look at you without crying or getting angry. Everyone, including yourself, went through periods of unbridled anger and sadness. But after a few weeks you all decided to try and enjoy the time you had left while you were still able to move around and be with them.

That however, didn't stop Alcina from trying to do everything for you.

"Love, please, I can do it." You say as you were doing your hair for the day.

"No, let me." She says, moving your hands away.

"Alcina, please." You sigh. "Please let me do it while I still can."

You know she was only trying to help but she was also smothering you a little and you wanted to be able to do as much as you could on your own before you were no longer able to.

"I'm sorry." She says as she drops her hands to your shoulders.

"It's okay my love. I know." You look up at her and she leans down, placing a tender kiss on your lips.

You were still able to do most things on your own but you were losing weight steadily and becoming weaker. As a family you decided to try one of the more promising experimental treatments. You realized quickly it wasn't working as effectively as it should have and the side effects outweighed the effectiveness so you decided to stop it. Even if it bought you more time, it wouldn't have been much and you would have been too sick from the treatment to enjoy spending what little time you had left with your family.

"Please, draga, let me help." Alcina says as you pull a few weeds from the garden.

"Well that bed needs weeding too, love." You say with a smile knowing damn well that's not what she meant.

Alcina rolls her eyes at you.

"I don't want you to exhaust yourself."

"I'm already exhausted Alcina."

"That's not what I mean." She says, crossing her arms over her chest.

You stand up and brush some of the dirt off of you and look up at her. You place your hand the side of her thighs, since you only come up to about her hip when she's standing, and her hand cradles the back of your head.

"I know, but I'm okay, I promise. I promise I won't over exert myself, okay?"

Alcina huffs in response and bends down to be closer to your level.

"I know I can be overbearing but I worry for you, draga."

"I know you do baby. It's okay."

She pulls you into her arms and you nuzzle into her neck. You try to enjoy the comfort of the moment but in the back of your mind you can't help but think if this is one of the last times you'll be able to hold her. Alcina will never say it out loud, but she's thinking the exact same thing.

Weeks turn into months and you grow weaker and weaker but you're still as stubborn as ever. Still refusing help, even if it takes you twice as long to do something. As long as you can do it - whatever it is - you're going to do it.

"Where are you going? You should be in bed resting, draga." Alcina says after she walks into the room.

"I'm just going to walk around the courtyard a bit."

"Draga-"

"Alcina, I've been in bed all day, I want to get some fresh air, stretch my legs a little. I'll be careful, I promise."

Alcina wants to fight you on this, she wants to pin you down in bed and make sure you stay there. But the two of you decided arguing over it isn't making anything any easier and it's only tainting the time you have left together. The two of you agreed, as long as you can confidently do something, you can do it until you can't any longer.

With a heavy sigh Alcina kneels down to your level and pulls you in for a hug.

"I love you, draga." She says before she kisses your cheek and goes to stand up.

You pull her back down and she follows, surprised when your lips capture hers. Since your illness has gotten worse the two of you haven't had much of a sex life, but when you have that burst of energy you take it for all it's worth.

Your kisses morph from passionate to desperate to frenzied and Alcina scoops you up and brings you to the bed. Within a minute both of you are stripped naked and are making love to each other. Your tiny body has always seemed so frail under Alcina's, but now it's even more so. Alcina uses extra caution but she's still able to unravel you underneath her as you cry out her name. She insists that you don't have to reciprocate but before she can protest you're between her legs, worshiping her like the goddess she is.

The walk around the courtyard can wait until tomorrow.

Things began to make a turn for the worst one day as you're walking across the castle lawn. It was a beautiful sunny day and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Your legs felt shaky but they usually do for the first few minutes of your walks. Today they felt shakier than normal but you tried to keep going but after a few minutes they gave out from under you and you collapsed onto the ground.

"Mamă!" Daniela screams when she sees you fall.

She rushes to your side and Alcina runs out of the house.

"Draga! Draga mea are you okay?" Alcina cries.

"I'm okay, my legs just gave out, it's fine."

"Come, lets get you inside." Alcina says as she scoops you up and brings you to the bedroom.

The three girls cuddle around you, Daniela curled up into your chest crying.

"Shh, it's okay honey, I'm okay, I promise. I'm not hurt."

"It's not okay!" She cries. "None of this is okay!"

"I know, I know." You say, holding back tears.

"Nu te pot pierde mamă." (I can't lose you mom)

You never really learned Romanian so you're not sure what she said, but whatever it was caused a sob to erupt from Alcina. She quickly covered her mouth and turned away. She always hated when the girls saw her cry.

"Mamă, vino culcă-te cu noi. Avem nevoie de tine. Mama are nevoie de tine." Bela says, reaching out for her mother. (Mom, come lay with us. We need you. Mom needs you)

Alcina joins the four of you and wraps her long arm around all of you, holding everyone close. The sound of sniffling filled the air as everyone shed their tears.

"I'm so sorry girls." You whisper. "I wish it wasn't like this."

That day was a turning point, things only kept getting worse. You were getting weaker but you were still stubborn and tried to do everything yourself. You didn't want to admit that doing basic things, like getting dressed or showering, were becoming increasingly difficult to do alone.

Not long after you were no longer able to get out of bed on your own and you knew your days were really numbered.

Alcina was so desperate she even called Mother Miranda to see if there was anything she could do. That maybe you can get the cadou and it would save you. It was the only avenue you didn't try, the only chance you had left. Mother Miranda took a few vials of your blood back to her lab to see if it would be compatible but called a few days later saying the cadou mutated uncontrollably when exposed to your blood and it wouldn't save you, it would only kill you. Not that it was a necessary detail, but she mentioned that it would be a far more gruesome and painful death than the one you were already experiencing which caused Alcina to throw her desk across the room in anger.

Your days were limited, and there was nothing you could do. You were dying, and your immortal family couldn't do anything but sit there and watch.

The girls spent every moment possible with you at your bedside. It broke your heart seeing how broken the girls were over all of this.

You knew that they would all outlive you, but you thought you had a few more decades left with them. In less than a year you went from totally healthy to your deathbed. The whiplash you got from thinking about it almost drove you crazy.

Alcina was with you, every day and every night. She hired someone to take over the vineyard and wine production so she could care for you full time. You were grateful, but you hoped she wouldn't let them take it over forever. Once you were gone, once the worst of the grieving was over, she needed to go back to work. She was a business woman, she always had to be doing something. You worried about what was going to happen to her after you left.

You could feel death creeping its way closer to you each day. At first you tried to fight it off but eventually, you stopped fighting. You just couldn't anymore. Death didn't scare you, truthfully you weren't scared at all. But your heart was broken knowing how devastated your family would be when you finally take your last breaths.

On your last day the girls and Alcina spent all day in bed with you. You did your best to shower them in as much love and kisses as you could physically manage. You knew you weren't going to make it through the night. When nighttime fell, the girls all gave you a teary goodnight, just in case you weren't there when they woke up in the morning.

Alcina was fussing with something and you reached your hand out towards her.

"Alcina." Your voice was barely a whisper now, it had been like that for a few days.

She turns towards you and dropped whatever she had in her hands and it fell to the ground. Alcina crawled into bed next to you and wrapped her arms around you. Both of you knew this was the end.

"I love you." You said.

"I love you so much draga mea." She said through tears.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay draga, it's okay. I love you, I love you so much. Rest my love. Rest."

"I'll be waiting for you, I promise." Alcina buried her head into your neck and cried as your breaths slowed. "I love you Alcina. I love you."

"I'll love you forever, draga mea."

Those were the last words you heard before your eyes closed and a warm light took over.

They buried you in the gardens under your favorite tree.

It took time, a long time, but things in the castle began to return to normal. As normal as it could when they was such a huge piece of everyone's lives missing. Eventually laughter rang out through the halls and even though it hurt, the girls and Alcina were able to smile again.

You were able to watch over them and you visited Alcina in her dreams as often as you could. As the years went on your visits lessened but you were still with them every day.

One fateful winter day a man entered the castle. He was elusive and sneaky and you knew he was trouble. Alcina sent the girls after him. Bela was the first one to die. When she arrived she seemed confused but immediately ran into your arms.

"Mamă, mi-ai fost dor de tine." (Mom, I missed you.)

He killed Cassandra next and you and Bela were there to greet her.

"Tu ești, nu-mi vine să cred că ești tu, mamă." (It's you, I can't believe it's you, mom.)

Alcina locked Daniela in the library to protect her but that wretched man-thing was able to get in. It pained you knowing he was slaughtering your family but you were happy that you were here to greet them so they wouldn't be alone.

"MAMI! Mi-a fost dor de tine mamă, mi-a fost atât de dor de tine." Daniela said as she ran into your arms. (MOMMY! I missed you mom, I missed you so much.)

You and the girls rested as you kept an eye out for Alcina. Your heart broke for her. In just a few hours she lost every one of her children, the things she loved more than anything in the world. Even you came second to them.

Alcina found Ethan in the Tower of Worship and when he stabbed her with the dagger of deaths flowers, white-hot pain like lightening shot through her body. She wasn't able to contain the beast any longer. Truthfully, she didn't want to.

She wanted that man dead, he took what was most precious to her away. Her girls. Her babies.

"How dare you talk about saving your daughter after you murdered mine!" She screams.

The poison from the dagger was coursing through her veins. Her regeneration abilities ceased and she was growing weaker by the minute. She needed blood but couldn't seem to get him.

Alcina tried her hardest, she fought tooth and nail but in the end, the man won.

"Damn you Winters!" She screams as the ceiling of the tower caves in.

You watch as she plummets to her death, your heart aches knowing she's in so much pain but you know she'll be in your arms soon.

The girls stay behind as you go to greet Alcina. She walks around the castle with confusion on her face and her hand over the spot where the man stabbed her. You stand there for a minute just watching her before she sees you.

The air rushes out of Alcina's lungs the moment she spots you. Her eyes begin to fill with tears and you take a few steps forward.

"Draga," she whispers. "you're, you're here?"

"Welcome home, my love."

You close the distance between the two of you and she reaches out a trembling hand and gently cups your face. She's worried that you'll disappear the moment she makes contact with you. The moment she feels the warmth of your cheek against her skin she wraps her arms around you tight. There's still a height difference between the two of you, but not nearly as great as it once was.

Tears flow from Alcina's eyes as she buries her face into your neck and you hold onto the back of her head, your fingers tangling in her hair.

"I missed you iubirea mea, I missed you so much." She cries.

"I missed you too my love. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I left, I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

"None of that matters, you're here now."

Alcina pulls back and cups your face, brining you in for a deep kiss.

"Mother!" The girls yell in unison as they run towards the two of you.

Alcina pulls away and snaps her head in the direction of the girls.

"My girl! My beautiful daughters." More tears fall as she wraps her arms around the three of them. "You're all here. All of you, you're all here."

She pulls you into the hug and the girls cuddle up to the two of you.

"My loves. All of my loves." Alcina says. "I finally have you all back."