#which simply isn’t at all the case lmao

[lunar-years]

Can I also say that the worst thing to happen to the roykeeley (and to a smaller extent royjamiekeeley) ship was the episode where Keeley expresses a desire to have like, even TEN Roy-free minutes in her day, which too many people took to mean Keeley (extrovert, social butterfly, move-maker, lover) hates quality time in both concept and execution and only wants to see her significant other on the weekends, maybe, and would probably sleep in a separate room, whereas Roy is a permanently needy fucker who needs to be attached at the hip to his significant other 24/7 in order to survive, and that therefore they are ~Fundamentally Incompatible.~ Instead of what I think the episode was trying to convey, which is that Keeley desires a very extremely normal amount of time to herself especially while she is focusing on Getting Tasks Done/Literally Working Her Job and that Roy had spent the last several months being insanely clingy largely because he was bored and angry and aimless without football and using his girlfriend as his singular purpose for living (which is not sustainable or healthy behavior with ANY partner, even one as equally attached at the hip) only for him to then get a job at the same place Keeley works, so that she could literally never get any time away from him even At Her Job. Thus tipping the scale beyond “Roy’s love language is Quality Time and he can be a bit clingy, which can be reasonably accommodated by a willing partner” to “Roy is Driving Keeley Actually Motherfucking Batshit Crazy” a problem which then gets solved by Roy leaving Keeley alone for the length of one (1) singular self care bath.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah��� it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

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[wonwoonlight]

;) / choi seungcheol

➝ Seungcheol x Reader

➝ idol!au // est relationship // nothing but fluff // reader is an idol too // takes place in this universe

➝ word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy birthday, cheol! just smth short that i wrote for his bday <3 enjoy💕 not proofread lmao

“Hi.” Seungcheol waves at the camera, waiting for more people to tune in. It’s a random Thursday when he suddenly feels like doing a live, and after confirming with the company that he’ll just be doing a short one, they simply tell him to be careful. He’s long enough in his career to be doing lives on his own in his place, and with him being a leader and all, if there’s any member that they can be sure wouldn’t make a mistake during a live unsupervised, it’d be him.

Or if he makes any, well, it wouldn’t be anything like Mingyu did last month. After all, Seungcheol is currently in a publicly revealed relationship with another idol and that automatically means he’s more careful than anyone.

“I’m at home.” He leans forward to see the comments better, resting his chin on his palm. “Just suddenly felt like turning on the live because I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Huh? ‘Why is the live title different?’ What do you–ah.” He taps on his phone seeing that he accidentally titled his live ‘;)’ instead of the usual smiley face. “I must’ve made a typo.”

He continues to communicate like that, smiling to himself at the sweet questions they ask about you even though he doesn’t answer them as much as he wants to. Yeah, it’s been a year since he went public with his relationship, but the both of you have been keeping it low regardless. He would’ve shown you off everywhere if he could, but you’re more private than he is and he agrees to follow your lead because he’s fine with whatever you’re comfortable with.

At least most of the fans react positively to the news, which is thankfully still the case seeing as how he only sees so little hate comments when it comes to you. He wishes there isn’t any, but with this industry… he can only be thankful that only a very small part of people who claim to be his fans are against his relationship.

He’s just happy he has you by his side.

“It’s my day off today. I don’t have any schedules after this because I did my work out in the morning. Have you guys had dinner? I’m thinking of–” He pauses in the middle of his sentence at the sound of his door opening, eyes turning frantic at the sight of you who don’t seem to realize that he’s currently live.

“Hi! I came early becau–” You press your lips together when you finally notice the phone propped up in front of him, and if that’s not enough, his panicked eyes tell you enough that he’s doing a live.

You’ve promised to drop by later tonight, but because your lesson ends early, you decide to just drive to his place because you want to see him already. Giddy at the prospect of surprising him, you forgot to consider that this is very possible to happen, something that you actually have discussed with Seungcheol before. 

Seungcheol glances at the comment section, heart light with relief at how fans are freaking out: asking if it’s you and they’re all asking him if you can join the live even for a bit. 

“I’m doing a live.” He says for the sake of it, his eyes sorry despite the giddiness in his heart for some reason. You know what he’s asking you though–do you want to join me? Do you want to wait outside? Should I pretend that you’re someone else?

You also know that Seungcheol has been wanting to just… be with you in public. It’s not something he says out loud, but you know him and you know it’s something that he’s always desired. He just wants to love out loud, wants to share what–who–makes him happy with his fans.

Should I say hi? You mouth at him, in which your answer comes in the form of his frantic face melting into a big, giddy smile in a matter of seconds.

“Hi.” You shyly wave at the camera as Seungcheol moves to give you space. “Sorry I disturbed your live. I didn’t know Seungcheol was doing one.”

“They’ve been asking about you anyway.” Seungcheol jokes, nudging you a little. “It’s like they come here to see you.”

You scrunch your nose in embarrassment, still not sure how to act with your boyfriend in front of the camera. You’re used to having him to yourself–not like this, but you can’t help but admit that it does make you giddy to be able to do this with him.

“There’s no way. Anyway, I can just wait outside so don’t feel pressured to end this quickly, okay?”

Noooo, stay with us!!

Don’t go!!! We’re happy to have you here🥺

Do you really have to go?

“See? They all want you here.” Seungcheol grins, getting more and more comfortable the more he sees positive comments about you. He laughs when he catches a funny one, points it at you and reads it to everyone. “Look at this ‘You’re so pretty. Do you need a girlfriend? Dump Seungcheol and come to me?’. I can’t believe you guys are already trying to steal her from me.”

You laugh incredulously, cheeks already hurt from smiling too much.

“Maybe if you make a better ramyeon than him.” You play along. “Seungcheol makes a very good ramyeon, you know?”

“Ah, good to know my cooking ability is a dealbreaker for you.” He nods in satisfaction before proceeding to tell his fans about a recipe he recently tried to make. “Invite her on Coups Coups? Heh, she doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Hey!”

“What? It’s true!”

“Yeah, but still…” You pout, and Seungcheol has to physically restrain himself from kissing the pout off your lips.

“She knows how to bake, though.” He turns back to the camera. “Perhaps we can do a baking episode someday. We’ll see.”

You stay there for another three minutes before excusing yourself, telling him once again that you’re fine waiting so he doesn’t need to end the live quickly for your sake. Waving at the camera and thanking the fans for being kind, you plop down on the sofa in the living room and allow yourself to be giddy for a few moments before texting your manager to let him know about what has just transpired.

It’s almost fifty minutes later that Seungcheol steps out of his room, his grin widens when he sees you playing with your phone. His heart also blooms in size, as much as he’s seen fans supporting you two on the internet, it’s entirely different to be with you on camera and see firsthand how his fans interact with you. He’s glad the experience seems to be pleasant for the both of you, and suddenly wonders if it can be a thing now that this has started.

“Oh, you’re done?” You look up before putting your phone to the table, immediately melt into his side when Seungcheol sits beside you. He doesn’t answer you though, simply cups your cheeks and dives into your lips like he’s been wanting to do since earlier. You smile into the kiss, fingers grasping his shoulder to balance yourself. You feel him smile also, and it’s then that you pull away and share a giggle with each other. “Don’t you look happy.”

“Mmhm.  I was finally able to show you off and my fans love you, this day can’t get any better.” He admits before kissing you on the forehead and pulls away.

“Finally, huh?” You scrunch your nose in embarrassment, though he can tell that you share the sentiment. “Have you talked to your manager about it?”

“Yeah. It’s fine, we didn’t do anything wrong and presumably didn’t say anything wrong. They’re monitoring it immediately, though, just in case.”

“Unlike Mingyu?”

You laugh at his unimpressed expression, only now finding the whole situation funny because Seungcheol, being the leader and all, was quite stressed about it at first.

“Did your manager say anything?”

“No. They… my management has actually been saying that it’s really up to me if I want to appear in public with you.” Seungcheol finds his heart fluttering at how shy you seem to be, the usual telltale of your nervousness showing itself as you play with your fingers.

“Yeah?” He wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “And what did you say?”

“I say I’ll talk about it with you.” You look at him, abashed. “Do you… want to? You know we’ve been getting invitations to appear on shows together, right?”

“I want whatever you want, baby.” He buries his nose into your hair, hopes that his voice doesn’t sound too hopeful as not to pressure you. He’d love to take you with him everywhere, but he knows you still find it bothersome and you like to be careful, which he respects. He understands where you’re coming from, and while he agrees that it’s important to be careful, having dated you for years even prior to the public revelation, he also thinks it would be fun to be able to appear in public with you. “You know I don’t mind anything as long as I’m with you.”

You’re silent for a bit, thinking about how you’ve actually also been wanting to do shows with him. It’s surely going to be different from the short live earlier, but the positive interactions with his fans make you somewhat hopeful and you admit that it’s making you crave for more interactions in the future.

“Perhaps we can start with our self-produced contents first?” You suggest and Seungcheol squeezes your shoulder a little too tight out of excitement. “Baking, you said earlier? And we’ll see after.”

“You’re serious?”

Shrugging, your smile extends into a grin at how happy Seungcheol seems to be. If this is how he looks at the idea of it, you can’t help but imagine how happy he’d be once the idea actually comes to life. “I don’t see why not.”

You yelp when he suddenly pulls you into his lap, hugging you so tight that you can’t help but laugh. You’re pretty sure the loud heartbeat you’re hearing is his, though you won’t be surprised too if it turns out to be yours either way.

“You know, one of the fans asked if I can just name the live with the emoji I used today if you’re ever going to come again in the future.”

“Oh? You used a different smiley face today?”

“By mistake. What do you say? Are you up to more lives with me in the future?”

You pretend to think about it, consider telling him no as a joke but decided against it when you see just how much his eyes are shining in expectation, probably already thinking of a hundred schedules that he can do with you by his side.

“I want whatever you want.” You repeat his words, heart fluttering about what the future might have in store for you and him. And when you see him smile, one of the happiest you’ve ever seen on his face, you know that things are going to be okay as long as you get to keep that smile on his face.

[mismatchedwonders]

I love that even though it was a campy underproduced and (probably) underfunded show, SPN gave us some genuinely GREAT actors.

Like, just look down the list:

Jensen is INVOLVED and CAPTIVATING

Misha is VERSATILE and EMOTIONAL

Jared

Jim is SERIOUS and COMFORTING

Jake is ENERGETIC and ENTERTAINING

JDM is MULTIFACETED and REALISTIC

Ruth is CHARISMATIC and DELIGHTFULLY WICKED

Richard is FUNNY and FLEXIBLE

Rob is INTERESTING and LIKEABLE

Alex is BELIEVABLE and GENUINE

Mark is CONFIDENT and FASCINATING

Samantha is SWEET and GROUNDED

Sebastian is SNARKY and FUN

Mark (P) is SCARY and SYMPATHETIC

Rachel is COOL and PASSIONATE

+a whole lot of others that I can’t remember + a hell of a lot of the guest cast also did sooo good. Just wanted to take a second to celebrate the performances people turned in for the Yeehaw Brothers in the Muscle Car show

Edit since I’m already seeing shit about it: I don’t have replies on bc I never had them on to begin with. In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t posted on here nearly at all since I got this blog, I don’t care that much about it. This is simply a place where I go to talk into the void so my thoughts aren’t constantly in my brain.

Also, regarding Jared, I have my own complicated feelings about him as a person, especially considering that he’s done a lot of scummy shit and brushed off that behavior with “uwu I have mental health issues” which, yes I can sympathize with since that is an AWFUL thing to struggle with (and I’m in a similar boat when it comes to shit like depression) but that’s not an excuse to behave how he does.

Also, no one else from the show has been able to find work? Lmao fucking where are you getting that? Almost everyone from SPN has acted in at least one other thing since it finished airing, and even some THIS YEAR, whereas Jared has only acted in ONE SHOW that he produced and got created for HIMSELF, and even then it was canceled (bc it wasn’t that well-reviewed by anyone, even by wipe who like the guy).

I don’t categorically hate ALL of his acting, there are a few episodes where he is genuinely good. But he just progressively got worse and worse over the series. And as for the “steady acting career” before SPN, sure, if you count roles in D-list mediocre movies as steady work. And in a lot of those, his acting isn’t much different.

And I know for a fact that people will say stuff like “well if he’s so untalented/unpleasant, why was he kept on? Why does he have work?” Well, see above, and there are plenty of fundamentally untalented actors that continue to get work bc they’re conventionally attractive

So yeah, just a bit of clarification

Have a lovely day 😘❤️

[only-lonely-star]

Dating Dallas Winston Headcanons !! 💋

Dallas will catcall you every waking moment of the day. Even though the two of you are already together he'd still make his appearance wherever you are just to whistle lowly and say, “Well damn, look at what I found here,” with the most cheeky grin imaginable. Sometimes it could be verbal, other times he'd be so bold as to give you a small swat or squeeze, followed up by a proud smirk. It's typical for him to pretend he doesn't know you as he does so, just to keep the teasing aspect of your relationship alive.

Dallas most definitely influences you. Whether you were already similar to him or the polar opposite, he’ll always find a way to put you on his favorite song, album, strange food combination, or a different brand of cigarettes. Not only physical items, but mannerisms and small phrases too. Dallas finds it amusing to add a bit of himself into your personality as well as things you enjoy. “Come on, just try it. One time,” is something you hear often.

Though Dallas is careless to most things and couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about his surroundings, he’s always protective of you. He doesn’t outright say much in terms of protecting you, but he’s always aware. He’s aware of the eyes on you and possible dangers. If you ever drown yourself in too many drinks at Buck’s, Dallas would keep his eye on damn near every man in that bar. He wouldn’t say a word about it to you, he’d silently observe and keep watch to make sure you were safe. The last thing he wanted was for you to end up hurt or hanging out with the wrong crowd. He would never let you get stuck in that position.

We all know he has borderline anger issues, a big factor in his behavior with every person he meets. He isn’t afraid to fight anyone including men, women, children, elders, Socs, Greasers- the list goes on. Dallas rarely found you to be annoying which was rare in his case. If an argument ever occurred he’d stand with clenched fists and a clenched jaw instead of taking that physical anger out on you. He cares. A lot.

His idea of a date doesn’t sound too romantic. While most guys take their girlfriends out for nice dinner dates and movie nights, Dallas would simply invite you to bed (take that how you want lmao) and see you behind closed doors. Partying, driving around recklessly, and laying in bed with you are his ideas of what dates are. Hell- he’s never done any of those corny dates to begin with so he didn’t know better. Since he’s more of a loner than anything, he prefers your company beside him late at night. Whether that leads to something or not, that’s your decision because Dallas is always down for extra. He simply enjoys having your limp and calmed body beside him, entangled in his bedsheets.

Dallas takes the nicknames you give him and takes it personally. He isn’t one to care about what people think about him whether it be good or bad. He’s too carefree for that. But of course he cares what you think. His natural cocky, arrogant, big ego type of attitude can become easily bruised. One small comment about his blatantly rude behavior and he’ll remember it forever. He won’t ever change his personality or looks just because of a comment or teasing nickname- but he won’t forget it either.

(that’s all for now, enjoy it loves! ❤️)

[orshii]

Limitless (through the night)

Author: orshii

Pairing: biker! Choi San x female reader

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of death

Word count: 11,5 k

Summary: You have broken the rules, again. The punishment? You’re moving in with your father, sent back to your hometown which you had grown to be a stranger to. What happens when old affairs return in the form of Choi San? The only guy you wished to forever avoid, the guy who was a menace and always knew which buttons to push.

Will he put aside your differences and help you out when you get in trouble again?

A/N: Wow, I guess I'm here again...Ever since I saw these pictures of San, I'm obsessed with it, so a story kinda popped out of my mind lol. Like, I'll just never get over biker San pls, he drives me crazy, and I don't like it (lie). Anyways, thank you for my talented bestie @bvidzsoo for helping me a lot. I'm really a newbie to this whole writing and Tumblr world so, ly bestie hehet. Please, enjoy! I'mma be back soon, with a Hongjoong series too, lmao. Okay, byee, xoxo, orshii. (divider)

Moving to a new place could excite you due to all the new opportunities coming your way, alongside with new people, which may become your new friends.

In my case it wasn't like this. I was moving back to my hometown, which I have left almost ten years ago, leaving behind my father and all the people who I was once close with.

Now, I'm on my way back to my father, back to the house where we once were a happy family. My mother left my father, because it seemed like my father cheated on her. But the actual truth was that she just wanted to escape from this little town. She had no opportunities here, so she just blamed everything on him to have a reason to leave this shitty little town behind, alongside with me. I was only 10 years old, I did not understand back then what the hell was happening, so I just went with her. We moved to a bigger city, which was full with people. I never liked it, I hate crowds, I hate how the city is full with life.

After a while, my mother met someone and he was rich, so, we moved into a bigger house, which looked like a castle. I did not like it; I like simple things. I liked our old house, where the walls were cracked like a river spreading through the map. It was beautiful in its own way.

So why am I going back again to my hometown? I look to my left, where my mother is driving. She looked tired and mad; she was continuously frowning while she was driving. Maybe she was thinking about how she could bring a child like me into this world. Of course, I was the cause of going back to my hometown. It was my punishment.

 I'm going to be honest, lying isn’t something I do often. Since I was little, I adored motorcycles. They are so beautifully shaped and their sound is simply music to my ears. I love watching them through the TV, the bikers riding their fancy motorcycles and competing against each other, going in circles like Formula 1 cars on the circuits.

 My dad had owned an old Yamaha, it was beautiful. He noticed that I adored it, and so, he taught me everything about motorbikes; which part of the bike belongs where, he even taught me how to repair some broken parts. That was the moment I fell in love with motorbikes. I could not wait until I grew up and finally got my license. I had one purpose in life, and that was it.

And after a lot of patience, I finally got my license, but I had no motorbike. This became my next goal. To buy a bike. I succeeded doing that too, and I was proud of myself.

I looked back, where my beautiful matte black Yamaha R6 was tied safely onto the trailer. After I bought Toothless—I have named it that—I naturally joined a motorbike gang and slowly got into the world of racing. But these were illegal affairs, illegal races. You’d rarely get caught, so I didn’t worry about it. But one day I made a very bad mistake and I was left to face the cops. I was alone, the others—whom I considered my friends—left me there, letting me face the repercussions all on my own. As soon as my mother got me out of the police station and we got home, she started packing my things, saying 'You're moving in with your father.' My opinion did not matter, it was settled, and I just needed to obey. I did not care about anything at that point, so I just went with it without a word. Since that incident I did not want to make any friends, I did not trust people anymore, not even my mother. She betrayed me by sending me back to our hometown, treating me like I was a nobody to her. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, I am used of being passed around by others.

As soon as we drove through the streets of my hometown, little memories started resurfacing and I smiled. It was good to be back, to be honest, I have always loved this area. I never actually wanted to leave it behind, I just really had no choice but to do otherwise.

When we finally arrived to the house where we had once lived, a whirlwind of emotions hit me like a truck. My father stepped out from his car service, wiping his oily hands onto a used black cloth, which was once white. He looked tired and worried, mimicking the same expressions reflected on my mother’s face.

I stepped out from the car, looking around a little bit. Nothing has changed since I had last been here, and that was a long time ago. We never came back after the separation, my father used to visit us when he had the time, but it was rare, and our relationship went from having a happy father-daughter connection, to a shallow 'How's school? Good.' connection.

As I looked around, my parents were talking quietly just so I wouldn’t overhear them, but I knew they were talking about me. They were talking, and then suddenly my mother was moving, giving me a kiss on my cheek and saying 'Don't get into any trouble', leaving me there like I was an abandoned cat, handed back to the streets because it kept causing trouble. She chose the easier way, passing me into the hands of my father.

I pushed my bike into the garage and covered it with a blanket, I did not want Toothless to be dusty from all the dirt flying around the air. My dad showed me around the house acting as if I was there for the first time. I stepped inside my old room; everything was just how I had left it. The old drawing in which I had drawn our once happy family, and even my little pink shoes, which I had cried about leaving behind accidentally. Everything was the same, except me.

I got enrolled into the local University. I wanted to learn still as I had nothing to do; I needed to keep my mind busy. As I was headed to the new University on my bike, I felt anxiety crawling up through my body. I never liked new places, and besides, this was a little town, everyone knew everyone. And so, I was the new girl in town to them. The girl who came back after years of being gone. I don't really think anybody is actually aware of who am I. I had changed.

I arrived to the parking lot of the university, and cut the engine of Toothless. I sighed before I got off my bike, taking off my raven black helmet with red lines on it. My anxiety had finally crawled through my body, managing to reach my mind and thoughts, clouding them and keeping me locked in, not letting me go for even a second. My thoughts had always been my biggest enemy. Overthinking made me feel anxious about even the littlest things. It wasn’t good as this influenced my behavior, all the time. I tried to gather myself, not having noticed that somebody was watching me.

"Princess is back in town and has a little motorcycle, I see." I jumped at the sudden deep voice coming from behind me.

I turned around and saw a very familiar looking, handsome, guy in front of me, but I did not remember his name. He was smirking at me, his eyes sharp like a knife, glaring at me like he was a predator and I was his prey. He was wearing a black hoodie that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, with black shorts that reached his knees, pairing with red Jordans.

"And who are you?" I asked frowning; I really did not know him, he looked familiar, but I could not place a name to his face.

He just tilted his head, looking at me sharper than before, "You don't remember me? I'm Choi San."

He was frowning his thick eyebrows, a little cut in his left eyebrow making his glare more intense.

Choi San, the mayor's son. Now I knew who he was, and I did not fucking like him. He was always the annoying rich kid from school, always stuck-up, acting all-mighty due to his family being rich. And he didn’t like me either anymore. At the beginning we were friends, but then shit started happening at home—my parents arguing constantly, not even noticing me anymore—and so, I closed myself off, not wanting to befriend anyone. I was just a child, my parents constantly arguing was a big enough trauma for me to stop caring about other things. So, I pushed San away, who, I assume, took it to heart since he started hating me and acting like a total jackass, not letting me live. It was like that until I left my hometown, leaving everyone behind.

"Oh, well then, I don't care." I said while grabbing my helmet from my bike and turning around to leave. I did not have the energy for this arrogant prick, he didn’t change at all, I could tell by his one little sentence.

He laughed, "Princess is mad, huh? Is that a Yamaha R1?"

He had asked while pointing at my bike, not letting me leave quite yet.

I sighed and turned around looking at him annoyed, "No, it's an R6."

My answer was short and snappy.

"That's from one of the newest series. I bet you begged on your knees your rich stepfather to buy it for you." He laughed sarcastically, and it sounded like an engine that needed an oil change. I sneered at the thought.

It hurt, it hurt because he didn’t know how many days I didn’t sleep because I had shift after shift, working my ass off. My stepfather and mother didn’t want to buy me a bike, actually they hated just the idea of it, but I didn’t care, so I took as many jobs as I could, and after three years of hard work, I finally get to buy this beauty. It had nothing to do with my stepfather. San was just being his old self, being an asshole, judging even though he did not know anything at all.

"Just fuck off, San." I snapped before walking towards the building. I was starting to get annoyed, but I didn’t let it show because I knew that was what he wanted out of this exchange. To piss me off, get on my nerves.

I finally stepped inside the building. I was a bit lost; I didn't know where I was supposed to go now.

"Let's race someday or are you scared, baby?" But San suddenly stopped next to me, looking at me arrogantly, not leaving me alone.

I laughed at the nickname, it was cringe, what the hell was he thinking? "I don't do shit like that."

I didn’t even spare him a glance.

"Then why do you have a motorbike?" San asked, looking at me like the police officer had when he was interrogating me.

"I obviously use it to go to church." I rolled my eyes as I started walking down the corridor. I got a lot of curious looks from the other students littered around in the hallways.

"I bet you raced in that big town of yours." San said, of course, following me.

I suddenly stopped in my tracks, and looked at him with deadly eyes, "Can't you just go and fucking annoy somebody else?"

"Princess is being mean for what? I just wanted to welcome you back in town." He said with a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, how humble" I said ironically, "Thank you for your kindness."

I smiled at him and saluted him before turning around. I did not have the energy for this egoistic guy.

I somehow found the director's office. He handed over my schedule and wished me good luck, and I was abandoned again in the empty corridor.

I was looking at my schedule, trying to figure out which classroom I needed to get in.

 "Hey, new girl, are you lost?" I heard a voice calling out to—me— I had assumed.

I looked up and I found myself standing in front of a tall, black-haired boy, with the kindest smile I had ever seen in my entire life. He was wearing bright colors, which highlighted his bright smiley face, he looked like a walking sunshine.

"Hi, yes, a little bit." I said while looking at my schedule confused.

"Let me see." He took the paper from my hands and looked at it humming, "Oh, you are in the same major as me. I'm headed to that class; I can show you the way."

He offered me up with a sweet smile.

"Oh my god, thank you, you saved me." I huffed the air out from my lungs.

"This way." He pointed out the direction with his finger, and we started to walk towards the classroom.

"By the way, I'm Yunho." He said, reaching his hand out towards me.

I smiled while shaking his hand, "Y/N, nice to meet you. How did you know I am the new girl?"

I had asked him curiously.

"Everyone knows, it's a little town, the rumors here spread like the plague." He shivered with a smile.

I chuckled, "Oh, I see. Too bad, I just wanted to remain unknown."

"Your dad is quite famous in town, did you know? So, I assume he told someone you are coming, and puff, the rumors are everywhere." He gave me a side glance as he smiled.

"Yeah, maybe." I said, thinking about the fact that my father has a car service, which, I assume, is the only one in town. Therefore, people meet up with him constantly, thinking more of it, it isn’t a surprise that people know who I am, in the end it, it is a little town. We arrived to the classroom, and headed in.

The day went by quickly. I was glad I met Yunho, he was a funny guy, and he led me around the University, making funny comments about some students. I really needed him in order to integrate into this new community, which I was once part of ten years ago. It was as if I had to relive the past, as if I was walking down the same path, I had done so ten years ago, a path which might have changed during my absence. It felt like I had to start everything from the very beginning.

  The days passed by quickly, and I just tried to avoid being in the spotlight as I found out everyone knew me, but I knew nobody, because who would remember the people they had met while being just a little kid? As I was randomly walking on the street, headed to get some groceries, random people would say hello and even ask how my mom was. I just quickly answered them, but I didn’t know who they were.  I didn’t like the attention, when all the eyes were on me, so I tried to lay low, live my life quietly.

Then one day, as I had gotten closer to Yunho, he somehow convinced me to attend a party held by some guy named Song Mingi. I wore casual clothes, meaning simple black ripped jeans paired with a black crop-top, and a leather jacket. I am a biker, so the leather jacket is a must, even when you have to leave your bike behind, as I had done now. I felt like drinking something. I hadn’t gotten drunken in a while, not that this was my purpose for the night.

Yunho came to pick me up with his navy-blue Nissan GT-R. The car was beautiful inside out. And that is when I found out that Yunho used to do street racing, held by some local racing company. That's another reason as to why we became friends so quickly, as we were interested in the same things.

  When we arrived to the house where the party was held at, it was already crowded. Luckily, there was the opportunity to stay outside, next to the pool, and so, I told Yunho I didn't really want to go into the crowd. He stayed with me, and to our luck, we found some alcohol outside too. There was a table next to the pool, and there were a whole bunch of alcoholic drinks on it, so, we took some tequila shots. As we were talking about some of Yunho's street races, I heard someone approaching us.

"Where did you leave your expensive bike, princess?" He clapped his hands together, reaching for a can of beer, opening it quickly with his thumb. He was wearing dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and on top a leather jacket. At least he knew the unsaid rule of the bikers. Leather jacket is a must, like I have said.

I looked at him with a glare, "I left it at church since I got drunk on the communion wine."

I said annoyed as it was my last wish to meet him tonight, “Just leave me alone, San.”

"Where's the fun in that?" He leaned close to my face, bending down to be at the same height as me, whispering it in my face.

"The fun must be where you brain is, which you seem to be lacking in." I pointed at his head.

He laughed loudly, "You'll see where is the fun when I beat you at the race."

He glared at me with his typical sharp gaze. It whispered danger. And I liked danger.

“I said I don’t race; do you have issues with your long-term memory now?” Despite meaning to be teasing and unabashed, my voice came out a little angry as I frowned.

“I saw the news about your little incident. You can’t be fooling everyone and telling them you nearly got arrested, princess.” He spread his arms, as he raised his voice, so everyone could hear it who was outside. I felt everyone’s eyes on us, coming closer, way too interested in hearing what the whole fiasco was about.

My blood had started boiling and I clenched my fists together, until my knuckles turned white. I was blinded by my sudden anger towards San, I just wanted to wipe that annoying, arrogant, smile off of his face. I stepped closer to him, my face inches away from his, as his back was facing the pool. He just needed a little encouragement for a swim, and so, I strongly pushed him towards the pool, and before he could fall in, I quickly whisked the beer out of his hand, and lifted it into the air.

“Have a good swimming, Choi San.” I placed the beer down on the table. That was my que to leave him there. I could feel his glare pointed at my back from the pool as he swum to the surface. I could feel his annoyance, that he felt embarrassed. I smirked to myself, Choi San, you have no idea whom you’re trying to annoy. Yunho came after me quickly and gave me a high-five for the move I had just pulled off.

  The next hours at the party were spent by drinking and dancing, as I went into the dancing crowd. I just wanted to disappear in the crowd and feel good. I tried to avoid San the whole night as I didn’t want to see his furious side, San, who got humiliated by me. It was funny, I had to smile the whole time as I remembered his face when I pushed him into the pool, amused by the whole ordeal. I also got to know the guy who threw the party as Yunho introduced us to each other. Mingi was a tiny bit shorter than Yunho, but you could barely notice. He had a buzz cut and rocked his blonde hair; his sharp nose completed his small eyes well. He wore a black T-shirt with some silver necklaces around his neck, and black ripped jeans. His nails were painted black with some rings on his fingers. I am not going to lie; he was hot as hell. And I also found out that he races alongside with Yunho. He owns a Toyota Supra, and that nearly made me faint when he told me about it, because it’s a rare car. He then proceeded to show it to me. It was so beautiful and unique due to its painting. It was kind of a papaya orange with some words on it painted on it, 'Fix on' and 'Youth'. I really liked it.

I had asked the boys about what kind of race San spoke about, and they said it’s an illegal motorbike race, which happen to be very rare here. I quickly tried to forget about it. I didn't want to cause trouble again; I had promised my mom and also myself to stay low, to be better. San was just provoking me; I wouldn’t fall into his trap.

  The next day at university as I was walking down the corridor, headed to the cafeteria, something immediately caught my eyes. It was a poster with a motorbike on it, of course it caught my eyes. I went closer to read it. It said that a motorbike competition was to be held, and the prize were some new parts to upgrade your motorcycle. This was the competition San was talking about, and it's going to be held tonight on the deserted streets of the city. I'm not going to lie; it piqued my interest. I miss speeding down the roads, the adrenaline coursing through my veins every time I race. And my bike is in urgent need of an upgrade, because these past days it felt like something was wrong with it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was exactly. For now, I'm going to let it go, but I still took the poster with me…just in case.

Evening came and I was in my room, I barely talked to my father all day, nothing unusual. Sometimes when I'm alone, and that happens a lot recently, I just start thinking about useless things that make me feel weak. I have never opened up to anyone before, I was never that kind of person, and besides, I always thought it's useless to open up to someone, because in the end they never truly care about me. And the fact that I was betrayed by my own "friends", it just confirms that I really should just stick to myself. I'm not going to say that it didn’t hurt when I saw my friends running away from the police, pushing me straight in front of them, telling me, "You are the new girl, handle it." Funny, I'm the new girl everywhere, I'm not going to belong anywhere, I am always going to be the new girl. They thought it was a nice joke, it wasn't; it ruined me. I started to think that the problem was me, that I deserved this, that I am not enough. As some time went by, I realized it wasn't my fault, but these thoughts still remained deep in my heart. And I will carry it with myself for a long time.

Here I am again, thinking about these things. These are those moments, when I need to clear my head. My solution for it is going out into the chilly air with my bike, cutting through the wind with the highest speed my bike can handle. The feeling of it being night, and I'm alone with Toothless, speeding through unknown streets, I feel like it's just me and my bike in this whole world. It’s like therapy for me. It just…understands me, just like the feeling you get while listening to music; sometimes you listen to a sad song, it makes you sad, it just describes your feelings, but if you are happy and you listen to that exact same song, it'll bring happy tears out of you.

  I was going around the city aimlessly, when suddenly I saw a bunch of bikers headed somewhere. That's when I realized they were going to the competition. My heart started to beat quickly. I started inhaling and exhaling slowly, just the thought of racing made my blood boil, my skin itch, awakening my body like nothing else.

And as I kept following after them, suddenly I realized I arrived to the location of the competition. It was really my subconscious taking over, driving me here. I slowed down a little. There were a lot of people around crowding the bikers, watching their unique motorcycles. Some background music accompanied the sound of the engines as it melted together, creating an intriguing melody. The atmosphere here were totally different compared to the one in the big city. Back there it was just serious faces, who hated each other. But here, I only saw smiles and laughs even between the racers as it seemed like everyone looked at each other friendly, not viewing the other as the enemy.

I stopped my bike, turning the engine off after having parked it. I noticed some curious eyes on me. I didn't know what to do now, I was totally alone. I didn’t know anyone, but I needed to fight my anxiety as I took my helmet off. My helmet always gave me safety, kept me unknown, and that's what I always wanted.

When I stepped next to my bike, someone immediately caught me into a hug. It was Yunho. He lifted me up in the air and smiled.

"Oh my God, you are here, Y/N!" He said excitedly, putting me down.

I laughed, "Yes, I am. I don't know how exactly, I was out for a ride, and then I found myself here."

I said placing my helmet down on my bike.

"I am so happy you are here." Yunho said, his smile never disappearing.

"Yeah, I can see that." I chuckled looking at his bright face.

"Will you sign up for the competition?" He asked me with curious eyes.

I sighed, "I'm here so—I guess?"

I lifted my hands into the air, shrugging.

"Yes!" Yunho fist bumped the air happily, making me chuckle.

He then led me to a person at which I needed to sign up for the competition. I didn't know who I was going to compete against, just until Choi San came to sign up as well. I had already finished signing up as I stood aside with Yunho, while he leaned towards me and quietly started to introduce each racer.

"Did you know that we are going to race against each other, princess?" San said, throwing a quick glance my way with his sharp eyes, signing the paper in front of him. I checked him out very quickly, hoping nobody would notice. He was wearing his typical leather jacket but with a black T-shirt underneath, and ripped jeans this time. His black hair fell into his eyes as he finished filling out the paper. Every woman very noticeably thirsted after him, and I wasn't an exception…he’s fucking hot. What a shame he has a shitty personality.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, tuning to face Yunho, who was talking to some guy I didn't know. Did San really not understand that I didn’t want to talk to him?

"I want to race against her." I heard San's voice coming from behind me. I turned around to look at him annoyed.

"You can’t get rid of me so fast." He winked at me, that fucker.

"I will, on the track." I smiled at him sweetly, turning around again as I went back to my bike with Yunho, adrenaline slowly starting to course through my body. I had to win this, I had to wipe that confident smile off of San's face.

The race started, it was a drag racing, meaning three bikers were lined on the starting point, it was a shorter straight section, then as the lights turned green from red, you just needed to shift the gears up as perfectly as you could. The first who reaches the finish line wins. Speed mattered only here, and how detailed you are about the gearing.

A few bikers were already done with the race, and I watched them curiously. Slowly, it was our turn to race. People were loud and they cheered whenever their favorites won.

I rolled over to the starting point. One guy was already there and I found out that I'm going to race against San and a guy named Hongjoong, whose nickname was the Devil. I didn't know him, but Yunho said he is one of the most well-known bikers in the town. He had a Honda CBR. His bike was sick, it was bright red and the owner sitting on it with his red helmet really looked like the Devil himself, I get why they call him that.

As I rolled next to him, I glanced towards my right as he was there. He looked at me and bowed his head, I did the same. It was a sign of respect. I liked the guy already.

San arrived to my left side with his Suzuki GSX, painted also with a very dark red, reminding me of blood, mixed with some black. These guys weren't playing, their bikes were absolute monsters. I could almost hide with Toothless, but my bike was almost on the same level as theirs, so I saw hope in winning this.

When the announcer spoke, saying our names and a few things about our motorbikes, I slowly started to focus on the task at hand. I did not hear anything else, just my fast-beating heart. I fixed my eyes ahead, breathing in and out. The engine sounds pushed away the crowd’s noise. The red light suddenly switched green, and I quickly lifted my left foot off the ground, concentrating on the perfect timing of the gearing, bending over a little to adjust with the speed. From the outside it looks like three bikes quickly reach the finish line, but when you are the driver, it feels like the longest minutes of your life.

At the beginning the three of us were head-to-head, then I was the one who was leading. I could feel the victory coursing through my bloodstream already. But suddenly, I heard a puffing noise from my engine, and it stopped without any warning. My bike started to slow, the thoughts of winning long forgotten.

'Shit, shit, no, no, no, no, no!' I mumbled to myself. I could barely stop; my bike was still resonating.

The two other racers quickly passed by me, leaving me with my broken bike. I glanced forward and saw San reaching the finish line first. I was so fucking close. I hit my bike angrily, and got off it to push it over to the side. This is the worst feeling ever, when you are so close that you can already feel the win, but then something out of your control happens and it’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it, you’re only left with cursing the world, asking, 'Why me?'

I could feel something was faulty with my bike, but I didn't think it was this bad. I heard someone running my way. It was Yunho, and when he reached me, he leaned his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"Fuck, what happened?" He asked straightening up, still breathing quickly from running.

"I don't know, the engine just stopped working." I kicked my bike. I loved Toothless, but when it did things like this, I felt like I was going to throw it out.

Yunho came closer to my bike, to try and see what the problem was. He crouched down to take a closer look as I stood next to him, using the flash of my phone to help him see better. I heard an engine slowing down next to us. Of course it was San, he took his black helmet off, smiling at me deviously.

"Daddy's money wasn't enough for a normal motor? It’s called karma, princess.” He said with a death glare, smirking annoyingly. “This is because you fucking pushed me into the pool."

Why the hell did he enjoy spitting out words that made no sense at all?

I could feel my blood boiling, my biggest desire at the moment being the want to punch that confident smile off his annoying face. I was so close doing it, I swear to God, I was ready to punch him hard, but that little sanity I was clinging on to did not let it happen. I always had problems controlling my anger. But slowly, I learned to handle it. I learned how to manage these feelings, so I just let it bounce off of me.

"Next time I’m going to push you into the sea, if you don’t stop being an asshole. Go, celebrate your fucking win, you really deserve it." I said, staring at him with deadly eyes.

"Your wish is my command, Princess." He saluted with a smirk, and then placed his helmet back on, driving away with his annoyingly loud engine. I scoffed as I watched him roll away.

"I think I'm going to call my dad, there's no hope in fixing it." I sighed. I'm going to get into so much trouble now. I was forbidden from racing, my dad won't be happy, I'm sure. But it is what it is. At least the cops didn't show up this time.

I called my dad and told him what happened. I was nervous of how he would react. To my surprise, his first question was about my well-being. He said he was coming.

While I was waiting alone for my dad—I told Yunho that he could since my dad was coming— Hongjoong stopped by my side, taking his helmet off. His blonde hair fell into his face as he ruffled his hair. He was damn handsome, he looked so soft, the opposite of his nickname.

"Everything alright?" He asked, his eyes full of understanding.

"Not really, my engine is broken, so yeah…" I said with a sad smile.

"Can I help you with anything?" He looked at me as if he really understood what I was feeling right now.

"No, thank you, I'm waiting for my dad to pick us up." I pointed at my bike.

"Okay, such a shame this happened. It was a good race." He smiled at me and then reached his fist towards me.

"Yeah, it could’ve be a good one." I fist bumped him, smiling.

"Next time perhaps then." He winked at me sweetly, "If you need any help, I'mma be around." He put his helmet back on.

"Okay, thank you." I smiled at him sincerely.

He rolled away quickly, leaving me there with my thoughts. Now, that's what I'm talking about. Why aren't there more people like him on Earth? He looks like an angel, not like the devil I suppose he is—on track. I was intrigued, I wanted to get to know him better. San could really learn a thing or two from him.

  My dad arrived after a few minutes and we quietly placed my bike up on the trailer. As we were headed home, silence settled around us. I could feel he was pissed.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking straight ahead at the road, not wanting to see his disappointed expression.

"What did you think?" He started, "That you would race and I wouldn’t ever find out about it? It's a little town, Y/N, you already know how fast rumors spread here."

He glanced at me for a second.

"I know, I didn’t think, I just miss racing." Tears appeared in my eyes. "Please don't tell mom. She will send me to Azkaban after this."

Call it a defense mechanism, a trauma response, but I had always been like this…joking in serious situations.

I glanced at him and saw a very small smile appear on his lips, "I won't tell her, but it was very bold of you to race again. You can't do that, you know it, it'll have consequences."

He lectured me.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you for not telling mom." I said, relief spreading through my body.

"But you're still punished. You have to help me in the car service after school." He said glancing at me with a serious look.

"Okay, and maybe we could fix my bike too?" I said, glancing at him with a smile.

My father smiled back, "Maybe after we fixed some cars, we could check it out next week."

I clapped happily, "Thank you!"

The rest of the ride until we got home was quiet, I was happy my father was this understanding. I thought as soon as he finds it out, he'll send me back to mom, passing me between each other like I was a tennis ball. But to my surprise, it was the opposite, and I really didn't mind working in the car service. At least we could spend some more time together. I hoped we could fix our relationship, alongside with the cars, of course.

  My days went by and they all were quite the same. I attended my classes at university, then my whole afternoon went by fixing cars with my father. He managed to teach me a lot of things about cars, even though my world was all about motorbikes I was always interested in cars too. I was planning on buying a car, but I needed to put that aspiration aside for a while. My priority was fixing my bike so I could finally ride it.

We checked out my bike and we found out that my engine was overheated, and that's why it shut down. An engine upgrade was needed, and we changed the turbo as well while we were at it. It was going to be even more powerful than before; I was so excited to finally try it out. On some days, Yunho and Mingi would come by the car service to check on me, and they even started helping me out in fixing my bike. We started getting closer, we laughed a lot in between the late-night repairing.

Yunho and Mingi invited me to watch their races, which were going to be held today. I had never been to races like this one before, so I happily accepted the invitation. I could finally try my bike out as I was headed to the race. It felt so good riding it again after a while. I felt like I could breathe again. I think I had gotten addicted to this feeling.

The race was held at the race track of the town, in the afternoon. The sun was slowly going down as I rode my bike, painting my black bike and helmet with the shade of dark orange.

When I arrived to the track, there were lots of people being excited about the race. It was a drag race again, but with cars this time. I looked around and I saw different types of cars, each looking very sick and unique. I started to feel excited as I was rolling down between the cars, searching for Yunho's parked car.

Then, I suddenly recognized someone with a blonde hair. He noticed me and started walking towards me with a smile. I stopped and took off my helmet.

"Fixed your bike, huh?" Hongjoong approached me with a genuine smile.

"Yeah, finally." I pet my bike with a smile.

"I'm glad, we shall try it out some day." He said with his white teeth flashing.

"We shall." I smiled back at him. I would wholeheartedly race with him again.

"Are you racing?" I asked with a frown.

"No, I came to watch, I won't betray my beast." He laughed sweetly. I swear to God, his laugh was like music to my ears, "You came to watch too?"

"Yeah, I've never been to races like this one before." I said, feeling excited.

"We can watch it together; I know the best place where we can watch it from." Hongjoong offered with a sweet smile.

"Okay." I accepted his offer quite easily, "But first, I want to wish Yunho and Mingi good luck."

"Come, you can put your bike down there, I’ll show you where they are." He pointed towards my right, where I could park my bike.

I pushed my bike to the designated area, and brought my helmet with myself. I did not want to leave my treasure there. Hongjoong lead the way to where Yunho's blue GT-R was parked, next to Mingi's orange Supra. These two cars next to each other looked so good. I was very tempted to take a picture of them.

I approached Yunho and hugged him from behind, surprising him. He laughed, "You came, finally."

"I would never miss it." I smiled looking up at him. He was wearing his racing suit with colors that matched his car. His hair was lazily brushed over his forehead, almost reaching his eyes.

I hugged Mingi too, the top part of his orange racing suit lazily hung around his waist, a white T-shirt underneath. This orange clothing suit him very well, highlighting his blonde buzz cut. They looked handsome. What is it today, everyone is looking so good?!

"I'm going to be in the crowd, watching you guys, good luck. Fighting!" I smiled and hugged them both again. Hongjoong also wished them good luck, resorting to giving them high-fives.

"Thanks, we'll try." Yunho said laughing.

We then walked to the spot Hongjoong mentioned before. It was really a good one, we could see everything from here. The crowd started to cheer as the first cars appeared on the track. It was a 2v2. Yunho was the first one, competing against a Mitsubishi Lancer. It was going to be hard to beat that car, but Yunho did not disappoint, and he won with a lot of advantage. Every minute counted here; they were measuring the time up until you crossed the finish line. Time mattered here as it could beat your opponent.

After a lot of quick races, the sun went down, street lamps were lighting the track up, the crowd cheering loudly. We laughed a lot with Hongjoong, and he explained the rules of the races we were witnessing. I finally felt happy after a long time, I loved the atmosphere here.

That is until someone sat next to me.

"Now you’re into cars too? Tell your stepdad to send you a car, a broken one perhaps." San said, looking at me with those fucking annoying sharp eyes of his.

Every time he appears, my mood is fucked, "I will, now leave me the fuck alone."

I had said not looking at him.

San laughed, "Not until we're racing with equal chances."

"Oh, so now you admit it wasn't a fair win for you?" I looked at him with a glare.

"No, I would've won anyways. I just wanted to see how much you could push. But your bike said, nah. I bet it'll fall apart again." He said, leaning closer to me.

My blood started boiling, it was one thing if I was the one saying shit about Toothless, but him spitting out these words about my bike were not allowed. Ever. San was provoking me, and I knew it, I fucking knew it, yet…

"Come, I'll fucking beat you this time." I looked at him with blazing eyes, starring at him sharply.

He stood up smiling, "It'll be my pleasure, princess."

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed.

Oh, how I would hit him in the face, I had nightmares about that fucking confident smile.

I stood up, Hongjoong grabbed my hands to make me look at him, "It's not the best time going out there, Y/N."

He said with concern in his voice.

"I don't care, I want to wipe that confident smile off his face." I was long gone, there was no chance of anyone convincing me doing otherwise.

Hongjoong stood up, looking at me with concern, "But please be careful, call me if anything happens."

He held my hands, he really looked concerned.

"Don't worry, savior. I'll keep her safe." San glared at Hongjoong with the deadliest stare I've ever seen.

Hongjoong stepped closer to San, letting go of my hands. "If anything happens to her because you’re a fucking idiot and your ass is just itchy, you'll regret it, I promise."

Hongjoong stared back at San, and in this moment, he really looked like the Devil. I stood between them as they were eyeing each other, glaring with their noses flared.

Whoa, whoa, hold on a second, what was happening right now—

"Okay, guys, stop! Let's not waste any more time and get this shit over." I looked at San, losing my patience.

He winked at me and then smiled, his dimples appearing. Did I just notice he has dimples?

He did not wear his usual black leather jacket tonight; it was a leather jacket with some red on its sleeves and on the waist with white lines. On the front there was a writing 'SUZUKI', referring to his motorbike being the same brand. I’m not going to lie; he looked hot as fuck.

We walked over to our bikes, which were parked next to each other. I sat on my bike.

"So where are we going? You know this town." I looked over to my left side to meet San's gaze.

"There's a freeway not far from here. There’ll be traffic, but it’s more exciting that way." He smirked.

I started my engine and reached my hand out, motioning to him to show me the way. We both placed our helmets on, and then it was game on from there on. There was no turning back anymore.

I followed San, turning on unknown streets, it was barely a five-minute ride. We stopped where the freeway began.

"The winner is who gets to the end of the freeway first. It's not that long." He told me through his helmet, being on my left side.

I just nodded, it was late into the evening, but the cars ahead of us were countless. It was a three-lane road, people might’ve been going home from work, because there were a lot of cars. We lined up at the side of the road, in front of the red light. San pointed at that, signaling that if it turns green, we start. I started to reeve the engine, my legs in starting position with my eyes focused on the road ahead of me, counting the cars, and analyzing how could I pass by them. Adrenaline crawled through me; my skin covered in goosebumps. I have never felt like this before, I was so hyped about winning this. I had to win this.

The red light suddenly changed to green, and I quickly lifted my foot off the ground, bending over my bike and shifting up. We slid through the cars like the river runs through the rocks. We were two quick arrows passing by the cars, wheezing from left to right. At first, we were head-to-head, but I got lucky and I could pass by a big truck very quickly. San wasn't that lucky, he stayed behind a little. We arrived to a tunnel; sudden strong light hit my eyes. Traffic was lesser here, so, San quickly caught up with me. The sound of our engines were so loud that its echo bounced of the tunnel’s walls. It was like music, the two-engine sound melting into each other. I'm not going to lie, I was enjoying it so much as I have never felt like this before, it was the definition of freedom. I quickly glanced at San and he lifted his arms, giving me a thumps up, then quickly passed by me. But I did not let that happen, I went after him. We arrived to the end of the tunnel, sudden darkness hitting me now, my eyes needed a few minutes to adopt to the dark again. As cars were in front of us, I quickly took the chance to go in between two cars, and I was leading again. Until I suddenly saw red and blue lights flashing from behind.

Shit, shit, no, not again—

It felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest, it was beating so fast. I can't get caught again, no way. I started to panic, and suddenly all strength escaped my body as I started to slow down. I couldn’t think straight as all thoughts left my mind seeing those colors again, getting flashbacks of that night. The lights, then being pushed straight into the cop’s hands, my friends running away, leaving me alone. San was suddenly next to me.

"Hey, Y/N, don't slow down, we need to lose them! I know a shortcut, follow me!" He yelled over the sounds of our engines and through his helmet, as I suddenly was back from the flashback as I looked behind me, seeing as the cops getting closer and closer.

I just nodded, suddenly feeling my strength coming back to me. There's no way they will catch me again. I quickly followed after San, passing by the cars, the police still following us, getting closer. San turned right onto a street, then left. We went through alleys and little streets, where only a bike would fit. I had no idea where were we, but I didn't care, because it seemed like San's plan was working and the red and blue lights were now far away from us. Suddenly, San turned left and went inside an abandoned factory's court. He quickly stopped and turned off the engine, signaling for me to do the same. I rolled next to him, and switched the key to turn off the engine. I glanced behind my back, I didn't see any signs of the police, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe. I took off my helmet quickly, starting to inhale and exhale quickly.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair stressed, pulling it away from my face.

"Come, let's go inside, bring your bike too." San said, getting off his bike as he started pushing it towards the building.

As I got off my bike, I was shaking, the adrenaline was still in my blood. We brought our bikes inside and I needed to sit quickly. I sat down, pressing my back against my bike, lifting my knees up to my chest.

"I think they're gone." San sat down, doing the same as me.

He glanced over me, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I said, still not looking at him.

"Are you really that scared of the cops?" I could hear it in his voice that he was smiling.

"San, this is really not the time where you can say shit like that." I glanced over at him. I guess he saw my expression, because his face changed.

"Sorry, I didn’t—" We lifted our heads up as we heard the siren sounds. The red and blue lights lit the walls of the factory, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

"Shit, shit, they are coming here." I stood up, San did too. But suddenly, I heard the sirens getting further and further away. I let out the big breath I was holding this whole time.

"They just passed by, idiots." San laughed.

I glanced over at him in disbelief, and sat down again next to my bike.

San mirrored me, "We need to wait a little, though, so they will give up searching for us."

"You were in these kinds of situations a lot, huh?" I asked San, staring ahead into the darkness.

"Kinda, that's why I knew what to do." He said sighing. Quiet fell over us as we both were thinking, probably not about the same things as he spoke up, "But I don't get it. What did you do that you got almost arrested? Did you crash your bike and kill someone?”

He looked at me frowning. I scoffed at him; I really couldn’t believe he was like this.

"You don't know anything about me, so please stop assuming things when you don't know shit." I stared at him angrily, "It's making me feel sick, San. I'm so fucking tired of your comments, what did I do to you for you to behave like this with me?"

I asked him, looking his way then at my hands, "I was just fucking racing because I love to do so. Why is that so bad? Don’t you do the same thing, San? I’ve got arrested because my friends left me there, so I was blamed for that whole mess, on my own. So, please, ask before you talk shit."

There was a minute of silence, "Fuck, I didn't know, Y/N. I don't fucking know why I'm an asshole with you. It is so easy to piss you off."

I glanced at him; he was staring ahead as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair.

"And you are enjoying this?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Of course I don’t, it’s just—" He turned my way, "Lately I did it just because I wanted to race against you and I thought if I provoke you, then you'll come. I know it sounds stupid, but don't say you didn't like it."

He seemed nervous a little. Choi San being nervous, interesting.

"I did enjoy it, San. But what the hell, why couldn't you just ask me nicely if I wanted to come with you? I would've, if you weren't such an asshole.” I looked at him, “And our bickering or whatever did not start here.”

"Yeah…I know." He looked down at his hands, "When we were kids you suddenly just got cold and pushed me away like I was some garbage. I was a little kid, it hurt."

He admitted. I didn’t recognize this San, this softer, nicer, side of him was strange to me.

"I was a little kid too. Kids are mean, you just had a weak heart." I said to him, "That does not mean you have to be an asshole your whole life, because I mistreated you when we were fucking kids. This is it, San. You need to adapt to some situations; you have to let go of foolish things at times."

I looked at him seriously.

"Forgive me for being such an asshole, you did not deserve it. I just tried to blame other people for my weaknesses." He admitted, and for a second, he looked vulnerable. But it vanished away quickly.

And suddenly we started sharing about our lives, the cops long forgotten, things that we didn't know about the other. I could see the side of him, which he rarely let anyone see. He could be really goofy, we laughed together, trying to recall the ridiculous situations we were in when we were just kids.

"And just so you know, I bought my bike, not someone else. I worked for it, for years. I took shift after shift, because I wanted something. You know…it hurt when you said those things to me." I suddenly felt like I had to tell him how much he stabbed a knife into my heart that day.

"Fuck this, this whole situation is ridiculous." He scoffed, his voice getting weaker. "I'm so fucked up. I'm so fucking tired of adapting to what people expect of me. I did this my whole life."

I looked at him as he buried his face into his palms.

Silence fell over the chilly air as San seemed to be on edge, while he quietly sniffed. I couldn’t believe that San was crying. It came out of the blue; I did not understand the cause of it.

Suddenly, I slipped next to him. I just wanted to hug him, he looked so broken. So, I went closer to him, still sitting on the ground, and hugged him tightly as he scooted closer to me and buried his face into my neck.

"It's okay, San. Sometimes life can be too much. Just let it out." I stroked his back patiently. I felt some tears falling onto my neck.

 I couldn’t believe I was hugging Choi San right now, but I have always been like this. I don't care if he harmed me, if he needs a shoulder to cry on in his most vulnerable moment, then I’m going to be there for him because no one deserves to be alone in these moments.

"I'm so tired, I'm sick of this pain…" He mumbled into my neck, sobbing a bit, "After my mom died—"

"Your mom died?" I lifted his head from my neck, cupping his face with my hands. I looked at him with round eyes. I didn't know his mother died; I was shocked.

"Yeah, right after you moved away..." He said, looking into my eyes with his puffy ones. He seemed empty, he seemed like he wasn't feeling anything at all, "She had cancer, she…She struggled a lot…and I was alone, I needed someone to be there for me, I tried…I really tried." He said, his voice getting quieter.

I did not want to believe what I just heard, his mom was an angel, everyone liked her when she stepped on the stage alongside with the town’s major. They looked like true leaders. I always looked up to her, and now she’s gone.

"Oh my God, I didn't know, San. I'm sorry for your loss.” I blinked away my own tears as I wiped away his, “If I would've known—"

I felt a bit overwhelmed.

Suddenly his expression changed, it seemed like he had realized what he had done in the last few minutes. He locked his feelings away, again. He thought he showed too much of his weaker, softer, side and suddenly, he started closing off, just like I used to do. The old San was coming back. He pushed my hands away from his face aggressively, not looking at me.

"Whatever, I don't need your pity." He stared ahead, and leaned back against his bike, lifting his knees up to his chest.

I scoffed, "What did I do now?”

I blinked at him, not understanding the sudden mood change, “Okay, you can't be helped. I tried, I really tried to be nice with you, but you are impossible."

I stood up, "I think the cops are long gone, let's get the fuck out of here." I pushed my bike outside not waiting for San. I sat on my bike, starting the engine. San arrived next to me, with his bike.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He looked at me with sincerity, but I did not fall for it.

"Yeah, me too, have a good night." I said with a disappointed look and I put my helmet on to drive away quickly. I just needed to get as far away as possible from him.

  Weeks passed since that night. I tried to avoid San as much as I could. I just couldn't face him; I was so tired of his games. There were a few occasions when he tried to talk to me, but I just ignored him. It's not that I don't understand him, I do, I know what he's been through…at least I can imagine. That night, I tried to see his good side, but he did not let me in. And it hurt, because I knew he needed someone, and I would've been by his side. But he suddenly decided to push me away. He closed himself off, stayed in the dark, not allowing me to light his path for a way out. I really felt hopeful for a second that he could change, that he would lower his walls and let me in. But no, he'll just never change, so I gave up on hoping. At least I thought so, but these past days I just couldn't get him out of my mind. When I closed my eyes, I saw him as he smiled at me in for that few minutes when we were freely talking about ourselves. I'm not going to lie, I liked that side of San, it was so pure. And I would've never thought I was going to say such things about Choi San. But he made me feel strange things.

It was late into the night when I was still in the car service. A car needed to be fixed by tomorrow and I told my dad he could rest, he has worked all day long and I could see he was really tired, so I wanted to fix this car by tomorrow. The weather seemed like it would rain soon, lighting striking every few minutes.

Suddenly, I heard an engine sound from outside. I frowned, who it is this late? I opened up the garage door and I found myself facing a soaked San, getting off his Suzuki, staring at me the whole time. His clothes were starting to soak through, the raindrops falling off from his leather jacket. It had started pouring badly; I haven’t even realized it. My heart was beating fast. He took off his helmet, his hair immediately getting wet. San ran his fingers through his hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him without any emotion.

"I just want to talk to you, Y/N. Please, let me take you to a place." He looked at me with pleading eyes.

"In this weather, San, seriously?" I pointed out, still standing under the garage, safe from the pouring rain.

"It'll stop in a few minutes." He said his, black clothes soaked now, waterdrops falling off his face. 

"How do you know? Are you a weather expert now too?" I asked frowning. I was just as hostile as he once was towards me.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair again. "I deserved that. Just like the pool."

He looked at me again. I could see a lot of regret in his eyes.

"That night, I closed myself off because your face reminded me of all the people who pitied me back then, when she died. I was only 11 years old, and I got sick of seeing those faces, it always reminded me of her death."

He started to tear up, his voice getting weak again, "Please, Y/N, forgive me. I know I fucked up everything, I just—you—you drive me crazy and I can't behave around you. I feel like when I'm near you I’ll lose my mind, like I’m not myself anymore. I said a lot of shitty things to you, and I judged you a lot even though I didn't know anything about you. I want to change that, I want to know you better, Y/N. I want to let you in, I'll do that if you also want it, but I hope you won't be scared of what you'll see."

I saw as teardrops fell down on his face, but the rain immediately washed it away, his voice cracking from the flow of emotions.

My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. I didn't except him to say things like these to me, "I'm not scared, San, to see your dark side. I never was, and I never will be."

Tears started to appear in my eyes, to my surprise, "You said some hurtful things to me, but I get it, I really do. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I was just so shocked, I didn't know…I didn't know, San."

I started to sob, tears falling from my face.

"I know, I know, baby." He stepped closer to me as he reached out for my hands pulling me out into the rain, into his chest. I cried into his chest as he rubbed my back up and down, my clothes and my hair soaked. I should’ve been the one comforting him, but in the end, I was the one sobbing like a little girl into his chest.

We stood in the heavy rain; our clothes wet, my hair sticking to my forehead yet he still hugged me like he never wanted to let me go. Caressing my back, he kissed the top of my head. I tried to inhale and exhale, so I could finally speak.

"I forgive you, and also I'm sorry." I whispered to him, lifting my head up from his chest.

He didn't let me go, his left hand was on my waist and he reached his right hand up to my cheeks to wipe off my tears, but they were wet again with tears and raindrops. "It's okay, don't cry, please, because then I'll cry too."

He smiled at me with the sincerity I've never seen before. His eyes were saying so much, it hurt. He finally let me in, allowed me to see his real self.

I laughed at that, and he followed suit, laughing together at this predicament, "Look at us, soaked like wet rats."

He smiled at me, never taking his sharp eyes off me.

Then suddenly his expression became serious, he stared at me as if I was his treasure, wanting to bury me, so no one could take me away, "I want to know you better, I want to know everything about you. What you like, what you don't, what is your favorite color, what do you like to eat, what you did while you were gone from here, what does it feel like to ride your bike…I want to know you, and never let you go."

He said, his hand still on my cheek, accompanied by his other one.

I smiled at him. I felt so happy at that exact moment, I didn't care if I was soaked, I only saw him, "Me too."

I said quietly.

He leaned closer to me, his lips almost touching mine, "Can I kiss you?"

He whispered against my lips sweetly.

Chills ran through my body. I never wanted anything more than him kissing me. I just nodded; words long forgotten. He closed the distance between us, and when our lips finally met, there was a loud thunder rumbling the world, lighting flashing around us and rain pouring from above, washing away our past where we said a lot of stupid things to each other. We could start with a clear page, melting our futures together. Our lips never stopped moving, it felt like heaven and hell met with each other as our lips moved against the other’s, just like when we were racing, both of us tried to win the other over. I welcomed San's darkness wholeheartedly and tried to scare it away with my light.

Then suddenly the rain stopped, and we separated from each other, looking up at the sky. The clouds were gone and the full moon was shining so brightly it looked like it was almost daylight.

I chuckled looking up, "You should apply to be a weatherman."

San was gazing at me so lovingly I felt like I was going to melt right there, "See? Now you can come with me, I want to show you something."

He held my hands.

"Okay, I should bring my bike then." I smiled at him, feeling as happiness crawled into my chest.

"It would be more proper if I was the one taking you there, but I want to race you." He held my waist and pecked my lips a few times. I still needed to get used to this San. I really liked it.

"I'm going to beat you." I scrunched my nose cutely.

"Okay, princess, but first, go change. I don't want you to catch a cold." He caressed my cheekbones.

"I'll bring you some clothes of dad’s, you'll catch a cold too otherwise." I kissed him quickly and then went inside the house, smiling like a fool, to grab some dry clothes.

  It was the middle of the night, but two engine sounds cut through the late-night life. We were going up on winding roads, forests covering both sides of the road. I was laughing beneath my helmet as San goofed around, slowing down and then speeding again. I think I have never felt more happier than right now. It was pure freedom going through these curvy roads, racing against each other. But in the end, it was just the two of us sharing our passion, riding our motorbikes, the moon shining upon us brightly, guiding our roads, showing our future ahead of us.

I finally knew I belonged somewhere, to someone. It was my hometown, and Choi San.

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ teacher's pet ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. oliver evans x f! reader — nijisanji jp

╰₊✧ your professor doesn’t like how close you’re getting to that playboy & calls you after class to discuss it┊2.3k words

contains: smut!! dom oliver & sub reader┊teacher/student relationship, age gap (unspecified but reader is early 20s & oliver is late 20s), established relationship (friends with benefits), jealousy, brat-taming (the good girl persona isn’t real), office sex & risk of getting caught, mentioned height difference, receiving oral, ooc probably (he’s bad with feelings), unrequited feelings & angsty rushed ending lmao

➤ author's note: i said “end of the week as in tomorrow”, but i was feeling generous!! i originally made prof and the reader have no relations other than teacher & student, but i struggled to create a dialogue so i made them friends with benefits and it got a lot easier! i did not plan to give it an angsty ending or to attach so much emotion to it, but it felt so right in the moment and i’m not taking it back 

you’re a good student, you know that right? you show up to every lecture without fail regardless of the weather and always take notes while asking questions along the way, which may seem annoying to some when in the later years of university, but you always help out others who missed class or don’t understand the material. you have a bright future ahead of you with how intelligent you are and how you’re so knowledgeable about the lessons of every class you’re in, he’s positive that he’ll see you on the news for making a historical breakthrough in whatever you’re studying and becoming one of the country’s richest women.

he doesn’t need to tell you this because he knows that you’re already aware of it, so why are you risking it all to hang out with some playboy who isn’t interested in anything more than a fun time and your body? as a professor, he’s seen and heard all that’s happened: how he asked you to help him cram for an exam, how a little friendship started blooming between the two of you, how you began to get more flustered when he got close to you, and most importantly, how he’s treated every other girl like that before breaking their hearts once he got what he wanted. you were so smart academically, but it seemed like you were too naive in matters of the heart.

normally, these aren’t issues that would bother him since he’s seen it repeated time and time again. although, he isn’t lying when he thinks your case is more important to him since he doesn’t want to see his best student fail due to a broken heart. he knows that your personal life is none of his business, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to intervene. as your professor, it’s part of his job to make sure that his students are all going down the right path and to prevent them from being led astray!

this is far from the first time he’s called you to see him in his office after class, going over the essays that you asked him to review before grading or simply asking you about your plans for after college, but it is the first time he’s asked to see you out of worry. it’s actually been a while since he’s seen you one-on-one like this, the last time being three weeks ago. he balled his fit up tightly when he saw that boy loitering by his doorway after escorting you as you convinced him that he didn’t need to wait around for you and would be at the planned arrangement when the time came. he didn’t feel disappointed like he thought he would, feeling rather dejected and inexplicitly angry for reasons he couldn’t place.

“i noticed that your grades have been slipping,” oliver started as you took a seat, watching you tense up as soon as the words left his mouth. you probably realized too late that this conversation was going to happen before you could make any real change to avoid it, just living in dread for the past week or so. “do you mind me asking if there’s something that brought about this change?” you anxiously fiddled with the hem of your dress and he sighed, not wanting to scare you off, “and please, be honest so that i can help you in any way that i can.”

“i-i’ve just been… distracted… it’s nothing that you need to be worried about…”

well, that was pretty obvious, he didn’t exactly expect you to admit the truth right away. he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to go about this in a professional manner, but still plowed ahead to skip any unnecessary awkwardness and asked you to specify what the distraction was. he wasn’t even sure what the point of asking was since no student would ever spill their dating life to an authority figure even if they were asked (especially if they were asked), so he decided to just rip off the bandage. “listen, i know that it’s normal for students your age to be experimenting romantically with others, but you shouldn't be letting it distract you from your studies!”

you bit your bottom lip and felt your face getting hot, burning with embarrassment that spread from your nose to the tips of your ears. “my grades aren’t that bad!” you defended, “i’m still passing and turning in everything on time!”

“barely passing while turning in assignments a minute or two before the deadline,” he corrected, making you flinch. “i hate looking at everything academic going downhill for you— over some guy who peaked in high school and won’t be able to amount to half of what you are now too.”

you bit the inside of your cheek seeing your prim and proper professor suddenly being unprofessional by speaking poorly about one of his pupils even if it was the truth. he was only human after all, he didn’t have to like every single person who walked through the doors. besides, it’s not as astonishing as it may seem for him to let his guard down and show his true colors around you, and seeing as he was being transparent with you, there was no reason why you couldn’t do the same. “aww, what’s the problem? are you jealous?” you scoffed as you got up to pace around his room and meddle with some of his things like you owned the damn place, “now you know how i feel whenever you got all of those other girls trying to bend over your desk asking you to give them extra credit.”

all he could do was glare with annoyance in his eyes, wondering about just how these predicaments come about. it’s true that this is far from the first time he’s called you to see him after class, but it’s never been for any of the reasons he’d listed before. you never needed his help for anything in the first place— or at least you never needed his help for anything academic. most people don’t see anything special about your dearest professor aside from his handsome face and strait-laced attitude, but you’ve always seen more to him (and have seen more of him). with the current state of things, things were too easy and handed to you on a silver platter, so why not pass some time by having an illicit affair that allowed you to have some control over an attractive authoritative figure? it isn’t partying or doing drugs, but it gives you all the rush and fun you need by having him help you out with your needs.

it didn’t take too much time for oliver to figure out that you weren’t really the goody-two-shoes teacher’s pet you had everyone believe you were. he doesn’t have the foggiest idea why you act that way, but you certainly play the part well as he was none the wiser until you seduced him. he’s the teacher with higher standing and a name, yet instead of being the one with power in the relationship, you were the one with all the chips on your side. you love this little game that’s been arranged, one where you know exactly what he’ll do in response to any of your actions: calling you to his office after class to take out his frustrations on you. this was by far the first time that he’d called you over because of jealousy, and it certainly won’t be the last time.

“how about you give me some extra credit, professor?” you mocked, pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes as you pushed some of his belongings aside so that you could sit on one of the shorter sides of his desk. “since my grades are so low? pretty please?”

he has half a mind to ignore your flirty little comments and chew you out for purposely pissing him off just because you felt like he wasn’t giving you enough attention, but god, you’re such a vixen. it never mattered if you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants or a crop top and short skirts, you somehow managed to be so enticing in all forms and lure him towards you like a moth to a flame. it might be your eyes, possessing a distinct mischievous sparkle that knew he didn’t have it in him to deny you.

when he grabs you by your collar and crashes his lips onto yours, you find it almost funny how weak he is to your charms and his envious nature. he always tells himself that it will be the last time he’ll be hooking up with you and will stop this inappropriate behavior that could ruin his life if discovered, but every time you’re presented to him, he finds his lust and true emotions spiraling into this very position at the end of it all. he wasn’t sure why he was constantly lying to himself about this issue all the time when it was plainly clear whether or not he is willing to admit it. while it’s only a fling for you, it might be something more to him despite the fact that it was so wrong for him to be with you. 

it’s too late to listen to reason or the little voice at the back of his head when you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, requiring you to crane your neck upwards and also pull him towards by forcing him to lean down to your level due to his height. both of you were out of breath from the intense make-out session when he finally parted from your mouth, not saying a word or even bothering to look into each other’s eyes. it wasn’t needed when he already decided his next course of action and stood back up only to get on his knees, making quick work of pulling off your pants and underwear with a single swift movement.

you shivered at the sensation of cold air quickly being replaced by his hot breath ghosting over your cunt, barely making out a murmur about how none of the college boys you messed around with would ever do something like this. he was right, none of them ever did, and if they have, it was never half as good as how he made you feel with his experience and knowledgeable motions. hooking your legs over his shoulders with his head wedged in between to keep them separated, keeping his half-lidded eyes filled with lust on your face to watch the arrogant persona melt away into pure pleasure. 

there’s nothing that gives him greater satisfaction than watching you becoming undone while he licks long stripes along your sex before wrapping his lips around your delicate pearl and roughly sucking just to hear you squeal. now that he thinks about it, he isn’t sure if you locked the door behind you or if the possibility of someone walking in was very real. he would scare you about it, but you wouldn’t care if you were caught getting tongue-fucked by an instructor— you would probably flaunt the fact, especially if it were one of your flings or a girl who liked to flirt with him. (realistically, no one would enter before knocking and hearing his approval. besides, the place is relatively sound-proof and empty at this time.)

you tangled your finger in his brown locks and grasped onto them, not hard enough to revert his attention but just enough for you to find solace in a wave of euphoria. god, it feels like it’s been forever since you felt this sensation despite being a mere month, humming in delight every time his tongue toyed with your clit and hastily thrust into your entrance that was barely clenching around anything. your breath hitched as you threw your head back, voice caught in your throat and unable to let out anything but pathetic little whimpers instead of shameless moans.

his large hands gripped onto your thighs to hold you still, preventing you from rolling your hips or trying to grind on his face. not that he would mind you being more needy, but he wanted to keep complete control of the situation as he worked his mouth like magic until you cried out with your intense orgasm washing over you. your legs framing his head constricted for a moment, locking him in place before completely slacking from exhaustion. you usually would still have energy for another round or two after a few minutes of rest, but it’s been long enough without that you just slumped on the spot after letting go of him and placing them behind you on the wooden desk for support. 

you looked at him in a daze, still with a little devilish grin despite it all, watching him finally stand up and eyeing the sizable tent remaining in his pants, “do you need any help?” there wasn’t an ounce of care in your voice, not that there ever was when you were talking to him.

“no, i’ll handle it myself,” he stated simply. 

you tilted your head at him for a second before simply shrugging, “okay then, don’t say i didn’t ask!” there wasn’t an ounce of genuine care in your cheery voice.

“you can stay in here for now, just turn off the lights and keep quiet in case someone shows up.”

“aww, leaving already?” 

he remained quiet as you chuckled, putting his olive green coat on before departing to the bathroom to take care of himself. at least that was the original plan, any contentment he had during the whole ordeal quickly disappeared once it was all over, leaving nothing but a heavy weight on his chest that overpowered any feeling of horniness that was there. maybe he would just head home for today, rethinking what on earth he was doing. wishing for a student who didn’t see him as anything more than someone to pass the time with, he knows that he’s a deeply pathetic man regardless of how esteemed he is in the eyes of everyone else.

request [ thinking about prof evans railing us cause we've been too close with another student ]

[shmaptainwrites]

wait i lied do childhood besties to enemies to lovers PLS

betsie ngl it took me a minute to figure out a good plot for this concept that i could do justice with the length i'm going for so now that i have something i really hope you like it! also atp it isn’t a mini blurb it’s a full on ficlet cause i just kept writing LMAO

Pairings: Fitzwilliam Darcy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Wickham mention (yes that's a valid warning bc he sucks), minor height descriptions (again i'm sorry)

Lost Years

Your least favourite time of year was always the time you visited Pemberley with your siblings. It had been that way for a while now, you probably could have pinpointed the date if you tried hard enough.

But just as every year before it was unavoidable.

It used to be an occasion of good fun. Two of your closest friends lived on the estate and you would savour every chance you got to spend with them both, but as you grew older and responsibilities set in, so did the disputes. Your close friendship had become fragmented along with your heart.

The first few days you tried to make sure you were always with at least one of your siblings, or maybe even Miss Georgiana Darcy which would create a buffer for the tension between you and her older brother.

As the estate was so large, it was always possible that by mere coincidence, one may end up in a room alone with another individual.

That quickly became the case for you, as you walked in the library, perusing the selection of books curated by the late Mr. Darcy and his son.

You went to reach for a book on a shelf you could not reach and before you could even thinking of a further attempt to grab it, someone reached from behind you and brought the book.

When you turned around and saw it was the younger Mr. Darcy you couldn't help the sharp remark that slipped past your lips.

"I could have gotten it myself. There was no need for that."

"And I suppose you would have climbed the shelves to accomplish that," he snapped right back.

"I find myself in a different mood than before. You may keep the book, Mr. Darcy," you said curtly and began to walk away.

"Am I to assume that nothing that comes from my hand will be accepted?" he asked.

You turned around.

"Miss, I have delt with your contempt of me in as amiable of a manner as I thought I was capable, but this has crossed a boundary."

"I have crossed a boundary?" you blinked, pointing to yourself. "I believe maybe you should have thought of that when you refused to give Wickham his portion entitled to him of your father's estate!"

Mr. Darcy stared at you blankly for a moment before his expression hardened.

"If Wickham is where your loyalties lie then perhaps contempt on both sides is justified."

"I disagree," you shook your head. "When he told me I could not believe what I was hearing. That you of all people could be so cold and unloving towards a friend. If you could do something like that to Wickham what was stopping you from doing it to me?"

"And what exactly did he tell you?" Mr. Darcy asked and you didn't hesitate to recount Wickham's version of the events.

You could see what almost looked like shock on Mr. Darcy's face as he saw in what light he was being painted, but he allowed you to finish before saying anything.

"I don't suppose you have anything to say for youself," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"That isn't what happened," he said simply.

"T-That isn't what happened? Really Mr. Darcy is that all you can-,"

"I swear it to you," he said. "Ask Mr. Bingley, if you must, but that is not what happened after my father's death."

You loosened your stance, letting your arms fall to your side.

"If not, then what did happen?"

Mr. Darcy took a breath before beginning to explain to you the events following his father's death. He was able to say in great detail what had occured, lining up his story with the timeline of events that had occured in his own life and Wickham's. Even things you had witnessed to your friend's character. Suddenly everything came crashing back down to reality.

When he finished speaking you had to excuse yourself in order to sit down on one of the couches behind you.

"Years," you whispered. "I went on for years believing this."

"You were listening to a friend you thought you could trust," Mr. Darcy even went as far as defending your actions towards him, when all this time he had been innocent of what he was accused. "I understand that this is a lot of information to take in, but may I ask you something?"

"Yes, I suppose," you nodded your head.

"Why didn't you ever ask me about this?"

Of everything he could have asked you, it had to be that. You closed your eyes and swallowed thickly.

"Mr. Darcy I-I'm not sure it would be appropriate to say."

"I have delt with many things much more difficult than this," he assured you. "Please...answer the question."

You chuckled softly to youself,

"We were young, Fitz," you looked over to him and you could see his face soften at the childhood nickname you called him. It was so easy how one word could transport you back in time, maybe a time where things were simpler. "I-," you shook your head and held it in your hands, massaging your temples. The words had become caught in your throat. "I-I-I loved you and if I spoke to you and it was true? It was easier to believe him and spare myself the hurt of hearing it from you directly."

You couldn't sit next to him, quickly standing and moving towards a window instead.

"The thought of finding out someone for which you feel so deeply, might be capable to do something of such an unkindly nature was too much for me to bear I-I'm so sorry."

"You loved me," he whispered softly. "Past tense."

"If I didn't love you, would I care this much about your treatment of Wickham?" you looked back at him, tears glistening in your eyes.

Mr. Darcy stood from his seat and slowly made his way towards you, gingerly reaching for your hand before finally clasping it in his own and bringing it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to its back.

"I have lost money; I have lost trust; I have lost many things because of Wickham," he murmured, your hand still close enough to his lips your could feel them move as he spoke. He lifted his other hand to gently caress your cheek. "But I will never forgive him for making me lose the years I could have spent with you."

"Fitz, I'm so sorry," you apologized as the tears finally spilled from your eyes, "I'm sorry."

You repeated your apologies many times, but they became muffled as he pulled you into him for a tight embrace.

You wrapped your hands tightly around his neck and buried your nose in his shoulder.

When your apologies quieted, he gently moved away, just barely half an arm's length.

"There is no need to apologize, my dear," his countenance calm, at peace. "We will simply have to make up for lost time."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

@iceman-kazansky

[writin-with-the-blues]

can you please write more of the blu medic x red mercs but the rest of red team finds out?? Like the red merc walks into base and the rest of the team is like "um hey what the HELL you have a crush on a BLU!?!?!?" (If you can't do this scenario for all the mercs can you do it for pyro, engineer, and scout please) thank you!!! Sorry If this request is alot.

Oh absolutely I can do this! Sorry if updates have been slow, finals has been killing me and this seemed the easiest to post. (I feel like I am always writing Pyro wrong LMAO).

OG Post Here

Right person, Wrong side

Pyro, Engineer, and Scout x Male!Blue Medic! Reader (Romantic)

Pyro:

They are probably the most interesting when it comes to you.

They tried to talk about you to the rest of the Mercenaries actually. However, since most of them can’t here them, they brush it off as utter nonsense. Except for one particular person.

Miss Pauling.

It was over a phone call, since pyro was in their room, they didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. It had to do with a contract killing you in particular and they rejected it. Miss Pauling inquired further about it, she was simply told, “Oh they didn’t tell you? I love him.”

“You can fall in love?”

Okay, ow, that hurt. But that one conversation with Miss Pauling somehow got spread around the entirety of Red Team. Though, it isn’t really a case of, ‘They are in love with blue team’ but a case of, ‘They can love?!’

Overall, it went alright. Though it did show how people felt about their cognitive abilities.

Engineer:

Ah yes, Dell, the man with more PHD’s than fingers of the Mercs have after a fight. He got caught because of an invention.

I am a firm believer that Dell’s love languages are Gift Giving and Acts of Service. He adores the moments when you just look so happy and excited, so keeping the stressful moments to a minimum with his inventions or hell just giving you a cup of coffee is something he thinks about a little too much.

So when he finds out that your medigun isn’t working as well as it should be, he immediately gets to solutions for you. It wasn’t like you asked though, since you didn’t even know something was wrong with your medigun in the first place but the nozzle doesn’t have the same range as it used to.

Though, his teams medic assumed it was for him until the very quick realization that it did absolutely nothing for his medigun. Which immediately was brought with accusations of being a spy and betraying the team.

To tell you it was ugly would be an understatement. To the point where his only defense is that he loved you. So he just simply said that. Did it resolve his issues with spy accusations? Yes. But it created a whole new problem.

Now there’s a bit of pressure from the rest of the team to just, ‘Snap out of it’ but he doesn’t. As much as he lies through his teeth, and as much as he tries to ignore it, he can’t. I mean, he’s a full grown man dammit, who cares?

Scout:

If you were to ask me how he even gotten himself in this situation, I’d say the many doodles he has of you.

He has a somewhat (very) crass way of expressing his feelings when using his sketchbook. Everything he feels about you just drawn out, kissing, hugging, other things a 20 year old with art abilities draws.

The first person to find these sketches of you is Spy. His first thoughts follow the beat of, ‘This is really good anatomy.’ To ‘Is that the enemy medic?’

Spy tried to use it as leverage against Scout. Once Scout realized what had happened, he almost immediately decided to tell every red merc on his own terms.

It’s the most Jeremy thing he could do, but I genuinely believe he’d do it. Though it goes as well as you expect it to. Which is not great.

To sum it up, there were so many argument over it. Whether it is justified or not, but most were in agreement that they knew they can’t change his feelings about you.

Masterlist

[darklinaforever]

Girl, you are so insanely misogynistic, when a woman is married to a violent and abusive man, she’s completely allowed and justified in cheating on him.

You can support creeps, stalkers, rapists and pedos but draw the line at cheating, lmao.

Literally, Daemon in F&B never abused Rhaenyra emotionally and physically.

The choking scene in 1x10 is completely OCC.

But you buy it anyway because it justifies your hatred of Daemon. Once again, you'll buy whatever hatred against Daemon the show gives and you'll be happy.

Then, like I said not only is the 1x10 scene is OCC but it also demonstrates the terrifying habit of the screenwriters to amplify the violence suffered by women in the GRRM universe without any good script-valid reason, in addition to adding scenes of various abuse and variety non-existent in the basic source material, all for pure shock value on the viewer.

This aspect is criticized as much as the fact that Daemon having strangled Rhaenyra makes no sense with the first 8 episodes of HOTD in relation to the Daemyra relationship, in addition to the fact that it never existed in Fire and Blood, so the source material from which this show is taken.

We are filled with the fact that Daemon strangling Rhaenyra makes no sense with his character and the Daemyra relationship, therefore being OCC in HOTD, and not being present in the source material either. So a pure free invention for the shock of the screenwriters who adds non-existent violence compared to the source material and consequently the empires to stimulate the shock of the viewer.

At no time do we justify Daemon's behavior. On the contrary. But you are unable to understand that.

How the hell does pointing out these crucial things make me a misogynist ? On the contrary, it is HOTD's treatment of female characters that is misogynistic.

I didn't know that it was feminist to add gratuitous violence towards female characters, so you teach me something...

Then, if we are all so against Rhaenyra cheating on Daemon, it has nothing to do with the fact that she is a woman, but simply because once again it does not exist in the source material. And no, Daemon cheating on Rhaenyra in F&B has never been proven and we are just as against Daemon cheating on Rhaenyra.

The strangling scene Daemyra, and the kiss scene between Rhaenyra & Mysaria are just as OCC as each other. We criticize both. Neither should have happened. It's not complicated to understand.

On the other hand, when did I support stalkers, worse rapists ?! (While I literally made a recent post again to take down characters who commit rape...) You have so little argument that you have to lie to be able to send me a request ? You're pitiful. The same thing about pedophiles. When did I support up with pedophiles ? Unless you're trying to say that Daemon is a pedophile and... you're still wrong.

Oops.

Oh and if it's because of my ships such as Sessrin, Sareth or Sebaciel, my god, I have already explained from what angle I ship Sebaciel and that this relationship or Sareth and Sessrin does not were not pedophile ships :

Oh and in case someone tells me the stupidity about Daemon being a groomer again :

Have a good day, you who complete yourself in your stupidity and your wickedness.

[azurejacques]

Back to rereading the song of Achilles and I’m reminded of the ONE little plot hole that bothers me: chapter 12, Deidameia speaking

“No!” She turned to Achilles. “You are lying! You have betrayed me! Monster! Apathes!” Heartless. Lycomedes froze. Achilles’ fingers tightened on mine. In our language, words come in different genders. She had used the masculine form.

ἀπαθής (apathḗs) is a third-declension adjective in Ancient Greek, which means one very important thing- the masculine and feminine forms are the same. There isn’t any way I can think of that masculine gender would’ve been indicated in her speech here- she likely would’ve been using the vocative (a grammatical case which is used when addressing someone, commonly translated with 'O' in English, e.g. “sing, O muse…”) , so absolutely no article (not that I’d expect one anyhow, but you could devise some indirect construction I’m sure). She also would’ve used the 2nd person singular pronoun if she used one at all, which is σύ (sý), and only third person pronouns can have gender marked on them.

Point being- there’s simply no way I can think of that this would’ve explicitly been gendering Achilles masculinely- it would’ve been ambiguous. I’m especially annoyed since Madeline Miller is herself a classicist and apparently has taught Ancient Greek too! So I’d love to know if this was a mistake or what her reasoning her is lmao, because it feels like a pretty big mistake to me (but obviously is not something that most of her audience would spot).

[babyboiboyega]

We are the Champions (Athlete!Shuri x GF!Reader)

Athlete!Shuri x GF!Reader

Summary: Dating an athlete meant constantly traveling for games and reassuring her when she needed it. Dating a champion meant having to fight for some alone time with her.

Word Count: 8.6k

Content: nothing but fluff y’all; well, the slightest bit of angst if you squint, but its really not angst at all; softball references; profanity; Shuri and Ri as athletes, that’s a warning in and of itself. 

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A/N: HEY! Sorry I’ve been gone, but here’s a little oneshot that I was really excited to write after having a dream about it as an apology! Of course, thanks to Liya for giving me the idea of making her a softball player!

I tried to make sure that the rules of softball were explained pretty easily in this, but if you have ANY questions, don’t hesitate to reply with them or send me a lil message! I got yall :) But I will put a few definitions for a few words, just in case!

Also, the Women’s National World Series is fictional and based on the Women’s College World Series, but I just made it different to fit the ages as yall aren’t in college anymore in this oneshot! The UCLA Bruins is an actual team and they’re a mf beast, I actually love watching them play softball, but they’re a college team. But just forget that and pretend like they’re a little older and out of college lmao

“Ump/ Umpire”: a person who watches the game and enforces the rules; think of a referee

“Pitcher’s Mound”: the place in the middle of the field where a pitcher stands and pitches.

“Back catcher”: the person who squats behind the batter and in front of the ump who catches the ball the pitcher throws.

The last play is also called a “drop play”. To put it simply, if the back catcher drops the ball on the third strike, the batter can run to try and get to first base. In this scenario, there’s a runner on third who takes their chance at getting to home plate while the back catcher is getting the ball. When the back catcher isn’t at home plate, its up to the pitcher to be there and cover it, which is what happens here. I hope that’s easy to understand LMAO

Go and read! Hope y’all enjoy!

Song Inspo (the songs that were on replay while writing):

- Lockdown : Koffee

- Found : Tems feat. Brent Faiyaz

- Essence : Wizkid, Tems

- Gonna love me : Teyana Taylor

*******

Beyond the large opening were stands filled with softball fans, eager to see which team would win the WNWS (The Women’s National World Series): The UCLA Bruins… or The Panthers of Wakanda. Excitement radiated from every part of the stands and the field, from fans and players alike. The Panthers would be going against a team known for winning the WNWS multiple times; a team that was a huge fan favorite and famous for their wins and their skill.

This was only The Panthers' first time making it to the championships, and there had been multiple news outlets, sports companies, and fans in general that had doubted their abilities and how they had gotten here. It didn't matter if each player's stats spoke for them, or if their wins as a team were highly impressive for one as new as theirs; they'd always be doubted just a little more than other teams. It was partly the reason why they worked so hard to get to where they were today, as a way of telling all of those who doubted them that despite their words and their insults, they had gotten here on their own. The other part was simply because it always felt good to win, and winning the championships would accomplish both of those goals.

Shuri's confidence in her team never wavered, nor did it when it came to her own abilities, but there was something about today. Maybe it was because it was the championship and they were on UCLA's home turf, and the home team always had an advantage in some way, whether it came from crooked umps or boosted morale; or maybe it was because she was their top pitcher, and everyone was looking to her to close out the game in their favor. But as she leaned against the wall of the hallway, trying her hardest to block out the buzzing noise in the stands and the announcer's voice booming over the speakers about damn hotdogs, she suspected it was the latter.

You didn't have to be in Shuri's mind or hear her thoughts to know them; you could deduce from the nervous passing back and forth of the bright yellow ball in her hands that she was temporarily trapped between fighting thoughts of self-doubt and embracing the confident ones that would ensure her a straight head while on the field. It was a scene that you had walked in on many times before important games, and this time was no different. Not for you at least.

A soft 'psst' left your mouth as you approached, and it prompted her to immediately raise her head and turn towards you. Her mouth had been pursed in thought when she first looked at you, but they quickly upturned slightly as she copied the noise

"What's goin on, babe?"

Shuri knew better than to lie, and it wasn't just because she knew you would get on her. You had the ability to read her as well as she could read herself, and you weren't afraid to use this skill when you felt she was downplaying her feelings. She had learned early on in the relationship that that shit wouldn't fly with you; it was something you constantly reminded her of in times like this.

You paused in front of where she rested against the wall, resting your homemade sign against the wall beside her. It was a simple black poster with gold trimming and the words 'Wakanda Forever" on it in silver letters that sparkled. On the other side, it said 'I'm with #15' - Shuri's number. When she had first seen it she had thrown her head back and laughed before nodding and pulling you in for a kiss. 'Damn right, you are' she had mumbled against your lips; ever since then, you had kept it in pristine condition.

"I thought I was fine, but that was before I saw the pitcher's mound. Now…I'm feeling the pressure."

Her voice was slightly rough around the edges, a hint of frustration creeping into it; no doubt aimed at herself. The ball hit her glove a little harder after she spoke, and her eyebrows furrowed slightly. It was obvious that she was delving deeper into those thoughts, and doing that would only make the pressure grow for her. You turned and leaned against the wall beside her, giving her space but standing close enough to where her arm brushed against yours whenever she moved it.

"A bit of pressure is good, it means you care about the game. It means you wanna win, which I know you do."

The corner of her mouth lifted a little more as she glanced over at you, her head nodding in agreement. The ball paused where it rested in her glove.

"Of course I do. We've gotten this far despite everything- we have to win."

The determination in her voice didn't go unnoticed, but neither did the slight shakiness of it. Her eyes stayed focused on the bright yellow ball, her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched slightly.

"It'll be amazing for you to win…but even if that doesn't happen, and that's a huge fuckin 'if'," she huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. "It matters that you got here in the first place. A lot of people didn't want you to get here but look at y'all. Can't tell y'all shit."

You weren't the best at giving motivational speeches, but one thing you excelled in was making sure Shuri was good whenever you knew she wasn't. And if your words couldn't do the trick, you'd simply move on to the acts that you knew would. This situation called for a bit of both; it had to do with Shuri's self-confidence and how she applied it to something she was passionate about and damn good at.

Anyone could see how much she loved playing softball; it was just as easy to see how good she was at the game, but you knew exactly how much it impacted her life. She hadn't started at a young age, but she had always been connected to the sport in some way.

Her brother, T'Challa, had played baseball for their country, and he had been a star player in every sense of the word. Shuri had looked up to her brother- she still did, and that included wanting to be like him in every way she could. So it only made sense that when she was big enough, she had begged him to teach her how to throw correctly and how to swing a bat, and of course, being an older sibling who spoiled and loved on their younger sibling, he had done exactly that. He had been the first one to see her potential in the sport, and while he hadn't pressured her to try out for a team, he had always reminded her of what all she could do and how talented she was- even when she moved to America to pursue an education.

He had gifted Shuri her first bat when she had joined her first team in secondary school, middle school being the equivalent for Americans, and he had been in attendance at every game and tournament she'd had. Even after he had grown sick, he had promised her that he'd try his hardest to make it to every single game, and he had held that promise all the way until the time of his death. But Shuri had once told you that he still attended every game she had, as she still carried around that bat that he had gifted to her. She had outgrown it a while ago, but the metal still bore her brother's handwriting and it still held sentiment, so it'd always be like he was with her.

You had known her at the time of T'Challa's death, having met her in your first year of college and his death happening during both of your second years, and you had never seen her attend a game without the bat. In fact, that same bat peeked out of the side of her softball bag as it leaned against the wall next to you two, her eyes naturally drifting to it as another source of comfort.

It took no effort at all to reach for her hand, taking her glove off and placing it on top of her bag before lacing your fingers through hers, and then you were stepping around to face her. The curve of her back rested against the wall, though as you stepped around, she straightened slightly. Her gaze connected with yours and you could see the smallest bit of turmoil in them.

"What did T'Challa always say?"

The question was the beginning of a pre-game ritual you two always did, and the recognition made her smile grow in the slightest. There were traces of lingering sadness, but it was inevitable when she spoke of her brother. It wasn't exactly a mournful sadness, but rather one that showed how his memory lived on in everything she did.

"He'd say 'stay in the game.'"

"Exactly." You squeezed her hand as you raised it, placing it on your chest over the spot where your heart was while your other hand rested over where hers beat. It was something the two of you had started a while ago, following her first anxiety attack before a game. The game had been the first one she'd had to play after T'Challa's passing, and the only thing that had gotten her out of the locker room and onto the field had been you sitting in the corner of the locker room with her. You had placed her hand on your heart so that she could feel something solid and calm enough for her to try and match, the same way you were doing now.

Her heart wasn't beating as fast as it had been then, but it was still slightly faster than normal, and the little ritual still worked no matter how skilled she was at the sport.

"That means you take all of those thoughts that are frustrating you, and confront them by playing the game the way you know how to. You know you're good at what you do. Your team is good. Go out there knowing that they got your back, babe."

It was obvious that she was taking your words and trying her best to not only commit them to memory but also apply them to the current situation. She always did, eventually, but the importance of today's game made the process a little longer. You knew she had told herself whatever she needed when her eyes closed momentarily, a deep and slow breath flowing through her body. Her thumb absentmindedly rubbed your collarbone, something that was more for her benefit but still felt good to you.

It only took a minute or two for her to open her eyes, a look of decisiveness now accompanying that look of determination on her face. Her gaze once again met yours, a deep appreciation gleaming in them as her smile grew.

"And you say you're bad at pep speeches." You could practically see the clouds of self-doubt receding from over her as she spoke, laughter in her words. It made your own smile grow.

"Because I am. I just know you well enough to say the right things."

She hummed in agreement, her eyebrows raising slightly as she nodded. Her hand shifted, following the length of your arm before resting over yours where it still resided on her chest. You had been with her for 3 years and her touch still threatened to steal the breath from you, and she loved to remind you. As much was evident in the way her smile grew almost teasing as she used your hand to pull you closer until the tips of your shoes scraped against her cleats.

"You always know what to say, don't you? How'd you even know I was back here anyway? Not that I don't appreciate you coming to check on me, it's very sweet of you-" You smacked your teeth, lightly kicking her foot at her joking and causing a laugh to escape her mouth.

"Ri told me 'you should go and check on your girl', so here I am, checkin' on my girl." You reached a hand up, raising her visor to see her face clearly. Not only did her touch continue to affect you, but the look of adoration in her eyes as she looked down at you still managed to send shivers down your spine.

The joy and excitement on her face made your own anticipation for the game grow, knowing that it'd be an evenly matched game and knowing that if there was one thing Shuri would do, she'd make sure to play her ass off. It was always amazing watching her play…and hot.

(It was the uniform that hugged her legs. And the tucked-in shirt. And the short sleeves that bared her muscular arms from years of playing. And most definitely the sounds she made whenever she pitched or hit-)

"I should be out there getting ready to lead the wave for when y'all start-"

A sound left her mouth, partly horrified and partly comical. Leave it to her to be dramatic.

"Absolutely not, you don't do the wave at a softball game, when have you ever seen someone start the wave at a softball game-"

"Uh, today, the fuck? I'll do whatever I damn well please, Udaku."

She threw her head back as she laughed loudly, the sound making your own laugh bubble up from your throat. It completely drowned out all other sounds, effectively creating a bubble of tranquility around the two of you that you both were reluctant to leave.

She continued to gaze at you once her laughter had died down, a soft smile taking over her face. The pre-game ritual always ended with some sort of physical contact, and you knew that it was coming next as she released your hands to wrap hers around your waist, pulling you flush against her.

Your movements worked in tandem with hers as you slid her team visor off, showing off her cornrows that formed a pattern on her scalp. It was only that morning that you found yourself oiling them while she rested between your legs, head leaned back and eyes closed in contentment. You could still smell traces of the manuka oil you had used as you leaned your forehead against hers, letting out a small sigh that she immediately copied.

"You got this, usana." The nickname rolled effortlessly off your tongue, as you had heard it so many times that it was now a part of your regular vocabulary when it came to Shuri. The term of endearment resulted in Shuri's smile growing, her arms tightening around your waist.

Her shoulders had dropped as you two talked, the tension melting away and making way for the adrenaline she usually felt right before each game. Her jaw had unclenched, apparent in the relaxed feeling of it as you raised your hands to hold her face.

"And when y'all win- when, not if- we'll find some way to celebrate. Just the two of us. We can both take a break and just go somewhere, alright?"

There was a short silence between you two before she pulled back slightly, nodding her head.

"…only if you promise not to do the wave."

"See, I'm just tryna be nice and cute, and you playing games, Shuri-"

Not only were your words cut off because of her laugh, but they were quickly stopped as she leaned forward, placing her lips on yours. She placed a hand on your back and used it to press your body closer to hers while her other moved to tilt your chin up.

Not only did her touch have the ability to steal your breath away, but it also made you completely forget that she had a game to play. The reminder came in the form of one of her teammates appearing in the large opening that led to the field. Ri's voice traveled effortlessly and popped that bubble of tranquility surrounding you two.

"Ayo! I told you to check on your girl, not fuck her in the tunnel! We got a game to play, let's go!"

She received an annoyed eye roll and a curse in Xhosa from Shuri but only smiled and turned, bouncing back into the dugout. The interruption served its purpose for as soon as Ri was out of sight, Shuri was letting out a breath and picking up her glove, slipping it onto her hand. You couldn’t ignore the longing in her eyes or in your chest even if you wanted to, but she had a job to do. 

Her smile had the makings of someone who knew exactly what they were about to get themselves into but still carried that small bit of remaining anxiety, but it was easy to see that she was okay. She'd be okay; you knew it and now she did too.

"I'll see you in the stands."

She held out a hand and you immediately grabbed it, the both of you completing the little handshake you did before each game. It was another ritual stemming from when you had absentmindedly created it while playing with her fingers before a game, and she had insisted that your actions had given her that extra bout of good luck for that game. Now, before each game, she had to complete the handshake with you, otherwise, she'd feel a little lost on the field.

"And I'll see you on the field."

And just as every single one of your handshakes ended, she pulled you quickly to her, planting a kiss on your lips before squeezing your hand and letting go. There was a cheeky smile on her face as she grabbed her bag, slinging it over a shoulder before sending a wink your way.

"We've got a game to win."

********

"Folks, we're at the bottom of the 7th and last inning with The Panthers having 8 runs and The Bruins having 7. It's been a tense battle on the field today, both teams evenly matched in defense and runs."

The game had been tense but in the best way possible. The Panthers would never let The Bruins get too far ahead, and vice versa. While the home team could hit exceptionally well, The Panthers played defense as if their livelihoods depended on it. You had seen Riri go airborne to catch a ball, watching and wincing as she had fallen to the ground in a heap of limbs; she had caught the ball, though, and it had been an out. You’d had a front-row seat to her girlfriend letting out a string of curses, muttering ‘I’m not tryna go to the hospital while in California, she better chill out.’

 You had also seen Shuri run right into the padded wall separating the stands from the field trying to catch a ball. Of course, she had caught it, but you had also let a few curses slip after seeing her fall to the ground.

Being the girlfriend of an intense and serious softball player is kinda stressful.

"That's right, John, its been incredibly entertaining and a treat watching these two teams. The Panthers have come a long way from being the underdogs to now holding their own against the reigning champs of the tournament."

Even in a professional setting like a championship, there were still fans who had no trouble talking out of the side of their neck. If the ump called a play that ruled in favor of The Panthers, there were always groans and yells of anger that echoed across the field. At one point, a woman with horrible extensions had yelled at the ump for calling one of Shuri's pitches a strike. 'Stop giving them handouts' she had yelled, her voice shrill and laced with all kinds of malice.

It had taken a stern look from Nakia in the dugout and all of your willpower not to turn around and offer your own handouts of ass-whoopings to the lady. The last thing anyone had needed was you getting into a fight with a middle-aged white woman who had wanted to show her ass after seeing a successful, all-black softball team.

"You're right, Steve, and it all comes down to this. Shuri Udaku, number 15 of The Panthers is pitching to Layla Cavanaugh, number 22 of the California Bruins. Home team has two outs, and this pitch has 3 balls and two strikes. It's all falling on whether Udaku can get this last strike or whether her team can stop number 7 on third from scoring. If they get this last out, The Panthers are going home with the championship."

Your knee bounced nervously and your jaw had grown a little sore from stress-munching on a bag of pretzels by the bottom of the last inning. Shuri stood on the pitcher's mound surrounded by her teammates after calling an infield meeting. As they spoke, you could see Shuri's eyebrows furrow slightly, her eyes glancing about the field and taking note of which plays they could complete. Her teammates did the same before, their heads bowing together as they discussed the best course of action. You loved watching them converse on the field, as a team who communicated with each other was a team that won. It also helped to see their smiles as they hyped each other up whenever one needed hyping, and before long, they were bumping gloves with her and running back to their positions.

A tense silence had fallen over the stands, but the home team had no problem breaking it by yelling and hitting the fence in an effort to distract Shuri. It was obvious that she had noticed it, judging by her pursed lips and her narrowed eyes; but it was also obvious that she wouldn't let it bother her. They had gotten too far to be distracted by some yelling.

You found yourself nervously clutching the pretzel bag in your hands as she readied herself for the pitch. Her shoulders rose and fell once, a few seconds passed, and then she was stepping forward and wounding her arm for the pitch.

The ball left her glove at a speed that would result in one missing it should they blink.

The batter swung and missed…but the ball kept going past the back catcher's glove, hurtling into the fence. A series of things happened at once, and if you hadn't been to so many games and gradually learned the rules, you would've been lost as hell. But even with your knowledge of the sport, you still found yourself holding your breath as everything transpired.

The batter dropped her bat and began running to first base while the back catcher turned and lunged for the ball that had gotten past her. You heard multiple yells of 'she's running' before your gaze landed on the runner on third, now sprinting towards an unguarded home plate.

Between one blink and the next, Shuri went from being on the pitcher's mound to right at home plate…but so was the runner.

The catcher turned, throwing the ball to Shuri who then threw herself towards home plate, her eyes set on the runner nearing it. The ball landed in her glove and she turned quickly, touching it against the runner right before her foot landed on the home plate.

It was completely silent as the entire field waited for the ump's call, and you didn't know if you were breathing so quickly that you couldn't feel the breaths or if you had stopped breathing altogether. Your eyes quickly moved between Shuri and the ump, willing him to stop playing games and just call the play-

"Out!"

You heard the single word and saw his hand motion, but it didn't fully register how much weight it held until Shuri jumped up, her mouth instantly opening on a triumphant yell. Her teammates ran from the infield and outfield, gathering around her where she stood on the home plate, all of them embracing and cheering. That's when it registered in your mind.

The Panthers had just won the championship. They had just won the National Championship.

The scream that erupted from your mouth made your ears ring as you stood up, your arms pumping in the air in celebration. Riri's girlfriend, a wonderful woman named Imani, wrapped her arms around you, jumping up and down and yelling directly into your ear…but you didn't care. This was huge.

You didn't care about the few fans yelling at the ump to review his call, and you sure as hell didn't care about the ugly faces being thrown your way and toward the team from the opposing fans. The only thing you could see was a team of champions that had worked their asses off and that had reaped the rewards that came with it.

********

Turns out, the events that happen after a championship are very different from the events that follow just a regular game. And given that this championship was one at a national level, the difference was stark.

They had allowed the team members' friends and loved ones to join them on the field for the medal ceremony after the game, and having been given a lanyard with your pass dangling from it, that included you. The team had stood in a line along the first base line, smiles on every single one of their faces as their names had been called over the speaker along with their number and their position. You had cheered for each player, but as Shuri had stepped forward to receive her medal, you had nearly screamed yourself raw. Your volume had only increased when she had been given the game ball, the same ball she had used to get the last out and win the game.

As soon as the medal ceremony had concluded, she had ran towards you, opening her arms and effortlessly gathering you against her. You had learned a long time ago to ignore the sweat and orange dust sticking to her clothes after each game, so you had eagerly wrapped your arms around her, whispering your congratulations and how proud of her you were into her ear. There were a number of people gathering around her to congratulate her as well, but in that moment, she had only wanted to feel you in her arms. 

"T would be so proud of you, babe." At your words, she had only tightened her arms around you, burying her face into your neck. The possibility of the wetness against your neck being tears had been just as probable as it being sweat, but you hadn't called attention to it. Your words rang true, and she knew it. 

When she had finally pulled back, her smile as wide as ever, she had leaned forward and captured your lips with hers. She had tasted vaguely of salt and the mint gum she loved to chew during the game. You would have been perfectly content standing there in the middle of the field, kissing her silly and congratulating her in your own way, but she had been pulled away by none other than Riri who yelled an apology and said something about pictures. 

You had barely gotten a few minutes with Shuri before the entire team was being pulled away for a 'few photos'. 

That had taken almost an hour and a half.

After the photos, while on their way back to the locker room, a few of them had been pulled for interviews, and Shuri, having done the winning play, was among that group. 

That had taken another 30 minutes.

You had thought that after the interview the two of you would have had a little time to yourselves away from the photographers and the sports channel anchors, but alas, the next thing you knew, she was being asked to follow a representative from the softball's organization to answer questions about potentially joining another team. Even though both of you knew that she wouldn't leave The Panthers, it was still a proud moment to see other teams chasing after your girl. It had also been incredibly entertaining seeing Coah Okoye glare at the representative as they passed her. 

The last time you had seen her, she had been walking out of the locker room with her bag thrown over her shoulder and an apologetic smile on her face. While she had walked towards you, her team had walked the opposite way to where their bus sat. You had perked up, your smile transforming your face into an expression that made Shuri's smile grow. 

"Where y'all headed now? Damn, I can barely kiss my girl before they're pulling you away."

She had laughed, taking your words for what they obviously were, a moment of teasing. While you had wanted to see her for the past few hours, you had understood that they were now champions, and the title came with a lot of people wanting their attention for different reasons. Besides, the two of you had a suite where you could give all of your attention to her later. 

"I know, I'm sorry. That's actually why I was coming over here...to let you know that we've been invited to a luncheon with the president of the organization, and we're heading over there now. And then we have a conference that's closed to the public...and then we have more pictures to take-"

"So many damn pictures-"

"-I know right? And then we have that dinner later tonight for the whole team and their families." 

Out of all the plans she had relayed to you, you had only been aware of the very last one, the dinner. But judging by the look that had been on her face as she had told you, she had been in the same boat. There was no doubt that the entire team had just been told where they were going and what they were doing for the rest of the day, and they had no choice but to go along with it. 

That had meant that the guests who were with the team were to be left to their own devices until the dinner, and the thought had made you sigh. But the excitement for the team had still been evident on your face, even when Coach O had hollered for Shuri to 'move her ass'. 

"Well...then I guess I'll see you at dinner tonight...where more pictures will be taken."

She had rolled her eyes, pretending that the idea annoyed her, but the smile on her face had told you differently. There had been excitement in it with an abundance of pride, and you were sure that your face had echoed the same sentiments. 

That excitement had only grown throughout the day, even without Shuri by your side. In fact, it had only bounced off of you and Imani as the day carried on, the both of you deciding to spend the day together while your girlfriends received the props that they rightly deserved. It was fun, Imani being a person who made you laugh hard and whose personality constantly reminded you why she and Riri were the perfect match for each other. But as the two of you sat at a bar, having finally made it to where dinner would be held, you felt that longing for Shuri growing even while giggling about any and everything that came up. You suspected it was because of the environment around you…and the alcohol, of course. 

Dinner would be held at a restaurant called Blue Streak, and it was placed on the Santa Monica Pier. The restaurant itself was nice; minimalistic decor mixed in with that beachy vibe most restaurants on the beach would have. The walls were mostly made of glass so that you could see the ocean, and the bright neon lights from the pier's small amusement park streamed through the windows, making the inside seem more like a nightclub with food than an actual restaurant. The two of you had taken a peek inside once learning that the team would be there and it had only made the two of you more excited to try the food, but you couldn't do so until the team had arrived for their reservation. All it had taken was Imani pointing to the open bar on the outside of the restaurant for you two to find a way to pass the time, and that's where you two had stayed until Riri called her. 

"Hey, babe. Are you here yet?" 

"Yeah, we just pulled up. Where y'all at- damn, it's a shit ton of people here." The both of you snickered at Riri's words, and when Imani turned the phone to face the both of you, you could see her girlfriend's eyes panning back and forth on the other side of the screen. 

"We found a corner of this bar that's pretty empty. It's at the same restaurant we're having dinner at. Come around the side and you'll see us, Ri."

Instead of answering, Riri only pulled her phone closer, her forehead and eyes taking up the entire screen. Imani's eyebrows furrowed at her actions, a soft laugh leaving her mouth.

"Ri...babe...what are you doing? We know you got a big ass forehead, but you don't gotta show it-" 

A sharp laugh left your mouth, and at the same time, another familiar laugh came from the speakers. Riri's eyes widened, her mouth dropping as she looked from her girlfriend to the other person who had laughed from beside her. You didn't have to see her to know that it was Shuri who stood out of frame, her laugh being as familiar to your ears as your own name.

"And I was just about to tell Shuri how good the two of you looked, but nah... never mind. You get a drink in you and be talking all types of crazy." 

If anything, Riri's words only made the both of you laugh harder. Shuri's laughter also increased but quickly stopped once Riri quickly turned to her out of frame, raising an eyebrow. 

"The hell you laughing at Udaku?"

”Yo, don't start that with me. I'm a champion- you can't roast me tonight."

An exasperated scoff left Ri's mouth as she turned the camera so that Shuri was in the frame. The two of them looked at each other, both of them wearing grins that showed the playfulness that constantly existed between the two of them.

"Nigga, I'm a champion too, you're not special."

Before Shuri could respond, Imani spoke up, interrupting a conversation that surely would have become more comical. It was a normal one between the two women- one that you and Imani had both gotten used to breaking up at certain times. 

"Aht, aht. Don't y'all start. We're hungry and the alcohol can only do so much, so hurry up and get here."

"We're already here." Instead of Ri's voice coming from the speakers, it came from behind the two of you, prompting you to turn around. You sent a smile Ri's way before turning your gaze to your own girlfriend and the sight of her made you pause.

You had seen her in a few professional settings where she had worn formal clothing...but it was something about her appearance tonight that made your heart skip a beat. 

It wasn't just the short-sleeved, black shirt that hugged her torso and her arms, effortlessly showcasing how toned she was from years of sports. It wasn't just the gray slacks that adorned her legs, loose but still fitting her perfectly and secured with a black and gold belt. It wasn't even her gold accessories consisting of a number of rings on her fingers and a single, simple necklace around her neck. Despite how utterly hot her ensemble was, it wasn't what made you pause, your eyes roaming over her entire being. 

It was the confidence and professionalism that she exuded as she stopped in front of you. She had always carried an air of confidence in herself, but tonight it was amplified, for obvious reasons. 

You had no quarrels with it; it looked good on her. The self-satisfied smirk on her face, the way her shoulders were held back, her chest puffing out just enough to tell you that she knew her own worth, and the way she tilted her head as she, too, looked you over. Her eyes trailed slowly over your being, resting shortly on each aspect of your outfit. 

Her eyebrows rose slightly at the black, silk shirt adorning your top half. You left it open, opting to tie the two sides of the shirt into a knot that rested right in the middle of your torso. The look in her eyes had darkened slightly at the sight of your exposed skin, the pier's neon lights smoothly reflecting off of your skin and making it seem more vibrant. The smirk on her face only grew as her eyes trailed down to the straight-legged jeans covering your legs before raising once more to meet yours. 

You were suddenly longing for the two of you to leave and head back to the hotel, but the day wasn't over just yet. You'd just have to wait and pinch yourself whenever your thoughts started wandering...which they continued to do as Shuri stepped forward, wrapping an arm around your waist and bending down to brush a kiss against your forehead. You took a breath in an attempt to get your thoughts back on track, remembering that there were two other people with you and an entire crowd around you, only to get a strong whiff of her cologne; you had to bite your tongue to stop the small noise of content from leaving you.

She smelled mostly of lavender and something huskier, but there were hints of manuka oil in the air that she stirred around you. She had taken her cornrows out, her curls now washed and moisturized for everyone to see. They shined in the neon lights, showing just how healthy her hair was and completing her outfit seamlessly. 

"How was lunch and the conference?"

She shrugged lightly, nudging your legs apart so she could stand between them. Her hands lowered, resting on your thighs that dangled from the barstool. It sent a jolt through your body, your eyes narrowing in warning at the knowing smile on her face that had slowly started to form.

"Lunch was okay. The food was pretty good. The conference? Well..." She grimaced slightly, her eyes flickering over to Riri who had stepped behind Imani, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. 

At the mention of the conference, her eyes narrowed and her body straightened. The twist of her mouth made it obvious that she was about to say something, and there was a good chance that it would be out of pocket. 

Better here than at the conference, right?

"Some people don't need to be reporters or journalists, because some of the questions they were giving us were borderline disrespectful and just straight dumb."

Irritation laced Riri's words, and it also showed up in the way she rolled her eyes, drawing a laugh from Imani's mouth. Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked back to Shuri, your hands resting on top of hers. 

"You would think that they'd know how to act when interviewing the winning team, but they didn't. There was this one woman who actually asked Aneka -"

"Baby, I think the team is ready. But you can tell us all about it at the table." 

Imani's words were soft and reassuring while her gaze was teasing as she looked at you and Shuri. All three of you knew Riri well enough to know that when she got going, it took a while for her to stop. You all had a better chance of getting to the table and having her become distracted than sitting and letting her rant pick up steam at the bar, and you suspected that that knowledge was what prompted Imani to stand and take Riri's hand in hers. She slid off of the stool, alerting the bartender of her continued tab before pulling Riri behind her as she walked towards the main entrance of the restaurant. You heard only a small portion of their conversation as you gathered your things, and it made you laugh, your head shaking at the two of them and how they bickered.  

"Come on, I wanna get a good seat by the window."

"The entire restaurant is one giant window, babe, that won't be hard-"

"But the entire restaurant isn't facing the ocean, now is it?"

"Well...it kind of is-"

Their voices joined the countless others on the pier as they walked further away. There was still an amused smile on your face as you turned to Shuri, watching as she stepped back and made room for you to slide off of the stool. The smile turned to a grimace as you lightly questioned her. 

"Was the conference really that bad?"

Instead of answering, she simply sighed and shook her head, stepping to the side to approach the bar. You watched, slightly worried, as she proceeded to take a bill from her wallet and place it on the bar, turning to you afterward and offering a hand. 

"It was...interesting."

It was both easy and difficult to think about their conference not going well. Easy because experiencing hostility in the sports world was not new for The Panthers, and only someone without common sense would think that it would be magically fixed when they won the championship; if anything, you'd guess that the hostility and criticism would only increase from now. Yet, it was difficult imagining them being questioned unfairly and about the most trivial things when they should've been commended on their work ethic, their skill, and how well they worked together as a team.

You were upset for them, and you didn't know if you looked forward to watching the conference when it was finally released...but you admittedly wanted to know what had gone wrong. But it only took you looking into her eyes to realize that maybe now wasn't the right time. Now was the time for celebration with her teammates for a game that they had worked their asses off to get to. 

"Nevermind, let's just enjoy dinner. Apparently, they have this hot-smoked salmon that's popular as hell, and I can't wait to try it- wait, where we goin'?"

Shuri wordlessly led you in the opposite direction of the restaurant, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion and a questioning noise fall from your lips. Your eyes roamed across the crowd, looking for any indication as to what her plans were, but upon finding nothing, you squeezed her hand.

"Shuri, not only is Coach O going to get on your ass, but she's also going to get my ass if you miss dinner. I don't know why she always thinks I'm the bad influence."

The sound of her laughter reached your ears, even over all of the noises of the pier. It did become clearer once she pulled you into the little photo booth she had originally been heading to, quickly pulling you into her lap before making the two of you comfortable and closing the curtain. It was a relief that the booth didn't smell and that it was clean, but you barely paid attention to the state of it; you couldn't- not when her lips were immediately on yours, drawing the air from your lungs while breathing life and a familiar pleasure into your body as a whole. 

Her hand raised, cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer in the small space of the booth, her other hand landing on your waist to keep you seated. The surprised sound that left your mouth was immediately swallowed by her, quickly being replaced by a sigh of contentment.

The amount of time you two sat there, hiding in a photobooth and kissing was unknown; you just knew that when you two pulled away, you could positively say that you were dizzy.

"Oh- what was that for?"

Shifting her hand slightly allowed her to gently rub her thumb across your cheek, her eyes bright with adoration and the faintest hint of mischief. Her voice was slightly lower than normal as she spoke, and the sound of it speared straight through you. 

"I just missed you. I haven't seen my usana all day, and I just wanted some alone time."

It was endearing, her pulling you into a photo booth and making out with you as if you two were high schoolers. It was also obvious that she needed this. She was good at hiding when she was overwhelmed from her teammates, but not from you. Not to mention that the last time you had seen her, she had sported those strained lines of tiredness around her eyes. 

Now? Now she looked up at you with nothing but love and excitement that set your heart racing. 

"Ah, got it. Here I thought you actually wanted to take a picture with me." You didn't let her answer before leaning forward, placing a kiss against the underside of her jaw and smiling as her hands lightly squeezed your waist in warning. 

"Well, we can still take a picture. But then I was thinking..." You sat back, your eyes meeting hers as her words trailed off. There was the slightest bit of trepidation in her voice as she continued, her hands gently fidgeting with the silk material covering your body.

"Maybe we can get something else and head back to the hotel to just chill for the night? Today was a lot, and, and I'm sorry, but I haven't really had time to just... decompress and breathe without a mic or camera in my face."

As she spoke, the confidence and self-assuredness melted away a bit, revealing the fatigued and slightly overstimulated Shuri beneath. Eyebrows furrowing in worry, you cupped her face gently, running your thumbs across her cheeks. You made sure to meet her eyes when you spoke, wanting her to see and hear just genuine you were with your words. 

"Shuri, there is nothing to say sorry about. Of course, we can get something and take it to the hotel- if that's what you want, then we'll do it. You may be a champion, but you're still human. You gotta take care of yourself, first. I'm sure Coach O will understand."

And if she didn't, then you'd gladly talk to her...from the other side of the pier...preferably on the phone. The lady was kind of scary, you could admit that, but you’d do whatever you had to in order to keep Shuri from being chastised for simply taking care of herself.

If possible, the intense look in her eyes deepened as they gazed at you, the corners of her mouth lifting into a blinding smile. This time, when your heart skipped slightly, it was at the fact that you were the one person who could make her smile as brightly. The fact made you giddy, to be completely honest, and that giddiness was apparent in your actions as you quickly reached into your bag. 

In the span of a few seconds, you had taken out your card and swiped it. The booth's main menu was prompted, and you quickly picked the standard option, turning slightly to face the camera in front of the booth. The screen displayed the exact picture that would be taken, and a quick glance at it showed that Shuri's eyes were still on you. There was a swarm of butterflies that had been released in your stomach as you smiled, leaning back against her chest and looking into the camera.

"You gotta look in the camera, Shuri."

She reluctantly tore her eyes away from you, turning to face the camera and offering a crooked smile while her hands lowered to land against your thighs. The first picture was taken with a bright flash and a countdown that started immediately after. 

You could only think to turn your head with the intention of planting a kiss on her cheek for the next picture; however, as soon as you turned your head, your lips were coming into contact with hers and not her cheek. Your laughter and hers mingled slightly as the camera went off once again, capturing the moment at the perfect time before starting the countdown once more. 

This time, you gently grabbed her chin, turning her face to the front where the camera was and taking the chance to place your lips against her cheek, your lips still curled into a smile. Your eyes were shut, but if they had been open, you would've seen the way her smile had grown at your actions. The flash went off before restarting the countdown again. 

She managed to turn her face towards you, her eyes flickering down to your lips which were only a few inches from hers. You placed an arm around her shoulders, using your hand to lightly pick out the curls she had. Her eyes were half-lidded while her hands ran smoothly up and down your jean-clad legs, and it made your breath hitch slightly. The camera flashed once more before starting the countdown. 

"So what did you want to eat for dinner?" You asked, willing your voice to stay steady and not betray your inner thoughts. You were in public, for heaven's sake; you could wait until you got back to the hotel. It made it harder to do exactly that, though, when she was hellbent on touching every part of you that was socially acceptable in the type of environment you were in. 

That plan flew out the window as she leaned forward, kissing your bottom lip and gradually making her way down to the corner of your jaw. It was hard to mask your gasp as a soft laugh, but you managed to do it. The gasp only came back, slightly louder as her fingertips grazed just under the knot of your shirt, ghosting against the valley of your breasts. You took a breath, leaning more into her. 

"Shuri, we gotta figure out what we're eating-"

"Do you know how good you look tonight? And the fact that you dressed up for me..."

The temptation to tease her and tell her that you hadn't dressed up for her was right there on the tip of your tongue...but who were you kidding? You had absolutely dressed up for her, knowing that it was a special night and wanting to look good for her. Never mind the fact that she had told you multiple times that you could wear a literal garbage bag and she'd still be just in love with you, but tonight was a night for her and her teammates. It was a night for her. 

"You know I had to. Tonight's all about you. At least for the rest of the night it is."

"Good, because I think I finally know what I want for dinner."

"What's that?"

You tilted forward slightly, resting your forehead against hers and humming in question. Her hands continued rubbing against your thighs until they suddenly stopped and squeezed, making your lips part slightly as you jumped. She took the opportunity to fit her lips against yours, instantly sliding her tongue between your lips without any hesitation. 

It finally clicked in your mind what she wanted for dinner right as the last camera flash went off.

********

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this! We should be getting back to our regularly scheduled program with “Next To Me” by next week, as I’ll be done with finals then! But I hope this can hold y’all over until then! <33

Taglist: @luvvspice​ , @motherlandrip , @vivisspam​ , @oceean​ , @sleepystarzz1 , @amaberry20​ , @randomhoex​ , @euph0ricx0​ , @motheroffae​ , @shinsousliya​ 

If your username has a line through it, that means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you for some reason!

Just a reminder that if you’d like to be tagged on other Shuri x reader works, pls fill out the form at the top of the page; I don’t want to subject someone to constant tagging when they only want Next to Me or vice versa! :)

Stay safe, y’all! <3

[scatterbrainedart]

I’m sure being aroace spec has given me a somewhat unique view of what love is and should be, but like. I feel like I need to articulate it, because I will probably never publicly do it again lmao. Bear with me, if you’d be so inclined :)

I am a firm believer in that love is a decision you make, as well as an emotion. I also firmly believe that liking something is not the same as loving something. I am an artist, yes? I love art. I do not like every single piece of art I see or make, nor do I always like making art. But even in the deepest depths of my worst burnout periods, I do not love it any less. I love my mother utterly and throughly, more than anyone. And even though I also like her for the overwhelming majority of the time, that is not always the case. It does not mean I love her any less.

I believe that you have little control over Love the Emotion. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, sometimes you grow into it, but you decide whether you nurture it or not. That is a decision you remake every single day. I doubt my love for things all the time. It’s healthy, to an extent, I think. I reevaluate frequently, still I’ve rarely realise that I no longer love something. It happens, but it is rare. Love, for me, rarely dies. It can falter and fall into the background, but it rarely seizes to be. In fact, thinking about it, I’m not sure it ever has. I want to say it can sizzle away, but,,,, maybe that is wrong. Maybe it is simply dormant, or maybe it never existed at all.

The people I have loved and no longer do, is that only because I loved the idea of them I created in my own head and when the idea got disproven, the love lost its foundation? Very possibly. And the others, those who I drifted away from? I think the love I have for them may very well be dormant. If I were to meet them again, I’m sure one of two things would happen: The love would either resurface, or I’d meet them a stranger.

This also begs a relatively interesting question in my opinion. What is the difference between love and hate? If loving isn’t the same as liking, but it still a stubbornly strong feeling, could they not be confused for each other? I think so. I do not, however, think love is enough for a relationship to be healthy. Obviously. Things hurt more when it comes to something or someone you love, I’ve come to realise. And those hurt feelings can be easily associated with your beloved object, which confuses things. You can love someone while being mad at them, this much I know. You can love someone/something in the long run which you dislike in the moment. On this note, I do not believe every loving emotion needs or should go anywhere, or lead to something else. For that matter, love and a relationship are two very different things, which is important to note. One can exist without the other, and “relationship” is a very broad term. Not gonna get into that right now tho I don’t think.

I do think it’s fucking dumb to say that “love is born from hate” or “love starts with fighting” or whatever the fuck. I believe those people are bad at expressing and analysing their feelings, and that is all I have to say about that.

But back to the point. Me (likely) being aroace, I struggle to see the clear divide between different kinds of love. From my view, I’m not sure there are different ones. Different attractions, yes. Different goals and wants for different dynamics, yes. I do not want to exorcise or express my love the same way for every person, thing or concept in my life. Different kinds of love entirely? I don’t know. I’m not saying there aren’t a difference for you, just that there don’t seem to be a difference for me. Maybe you love people entirely different. Maybe it feels entirely differently. This little self analysis is just that: a self analysis. That doesn’t diminish your love, nor does it diminish mine. I am, as well, a firm believer in the fact that those two realities can coexist in different people.

I think I love people the same way I love the forests or science. Sometimes even for the same reasons, although those obviously also differ drastically.

I’d love to hear someone else’s view on this. Like, do I sound like I’ve lost the plot entirely or is this relatable. And if not, what does your world look like?? I’m genuinely curious

[shmowder]

I love thinking about how each healer would comfort their s/o differently, like they’re all healers but manage the emotional aspects of pain in different ways. to me, once he’s attached to u enough, daniil could probs be very soothing if he wanted to be and if the situation called for it. calm whispers, “it’s ok, i’ve got you. I know it hurts but I will make it all go away”, featherlight touches that almost feel dreamlike. artemy is like the silent but calming presence that feels reliable and like home, yk? a glass of water that’s always full, gentle back rubs, layers of blankets that make you feel like there isn’t a worry in the world. I love them both so much, especially as someone who is always ill and or injured lmao. would love to hear ur take tho! love u lots!

i love you lots too anon. i might not know you but i do love you. lots.

Different ways they'd comfort you

[ Comfort, Fluff, Can be either platonic or romantic ]

[ Bachelor, Haruspex, GN Reader]

Daniil Dankovsky

It is common knowledge that the bachelor doesn't have the best bedside manners. His eloquent speech can take a sharp turn if provoked. Be it the accidental condescension or the occasional sarcasm, there are so many reasons why he'd be placed approximately at the bottom of the figurative list of people to seek comfort from.

And yet, you do.

He doesn't know how to deal with tears, which leads to his lack of tact as the only thing he can manage to say to you is to stop crying.

Is he saying it to you? It's worded like an order, much like he'd tell a patient to stop sneezing whilst aware it's an involuntary bodily reaction. Crying is an almost petellar reflex to intense emotions, high stress, overwhelming joy, or consuming despair.

Doctors grow jaded with time, the daily exposure to patients experiencing what could be considered the worst days of their entire lifetime simply does that to someone. Many people die before your eyes, you simply have to keep going and go check on the other patient waiting in the next room over.

Cases ranging from a newly teething infant experiencing mild discomfort with an overly concerned mother to a young newly wed person, about to receive the devastating news in the form of a positive test results confirming the suspicions about a terminal illness.

The trivial problems of the daily life simply pale in comparison.

You pour your heart out to him and his first instinct is to look for a solution, not realising the importance of simply venting.

He doesn't understand why you keep coming back to him exactly, especially after he messes up each time. Adding fuel to the fire, the only thing he manages to do is make you feel worse than you've felt before talking to him.

When life gets him down, he gets up, dusts himself off, and tries again. Simple as that. He refuses defeat;Daniil will never concede.

It's just what he's used to. His sharp tongue rarely spares him, and unlike other people, Daniil can't simply walk away from himself when his mind won't shut up as it constantly nitpicks on every single one of his mistakes and shortcomings. He is subjected to having to deal with himself every hour of the day.

You're asking him for something which he cannot even give to himself. Isn't it unfair? How could he extend you warmth and comfort when he can't even provide it for his own self.

It was easier to simply repress it all, to focus on the main prize above his head and ignore everything else.

Time after time you seek him out during your most vulnerable moments and he messes up. He feels insufficient, inadequate for this delicate role.

But you don't stop nor ever learn, you take whatever little kindness he's able to provide and treasure it.

Daniil hates feeling inadequate.

You make him want to try harder.

And so he learns, seeks books and guides. Clumsily attempts several techniques, works hard to reconnect with the emotions he has ignored all his life, with the sympathy he buried deep down.

With empathy.

Most importantly, he learns when to shut up.

Daniil is almost embarrassed by how effective his attempts at comfort became once he just closed his mouth and let you talk without interruptions, once he stopped listing solutions and learned how to listen.

To imagine how you must be feeling, to attempt to contextualise it and paint a semi accurate picture in his mind. To feel even a fraction of your pain.

And you see his sincerity behind the stiff expression and awkward shoulder patting. The way his eyebrows scrunch as he attempts to come up with an adequate sentence that could lessen your pain, or at least acknowledge it.

Daniil Dankovsky struggling for words is not a sight easily forgettable.

Gradually, he becomes better at reading your emotions. Realising what it is you truly need at the moment, be it words of encouragement, a hug, some time alone or just to talk shit together about the source of your pain, be it a person or else.

Physical contact isn't something he is very accustomed to either. You don't get many hugs in Thanatica, handshakes, however? yeah, there are plenty of those.

It's not just you he learns to console through this, but himself too. It was a pleasant side-effect that should've been obvious in handsight, yet he overlooked somehow.

He's better at regulating his own emotions, his infamous temper visits less and less frequently. Instead of simply getting up after falling down, he takes a moment to catch his breath now. He thinks of you, his motivation, of how he should probably go back home and have dinner with you rather than keep reattempting this failing experiment over and over.

Daniil comforts you with the same novelty of someone who hasn't known much comfort in his life. It's raw and callow at times. He's clearly putting in the required effort and more, overcompensating for his previous shortcomings.

He makes it known that you're not alone.

That this, too, eventually will pass. You've managed to overcome so much before, you'll survive this, too.

It's not easy, it never will be. Life is hard, so accept his offers of help. Let him carry your portion of responsibility while you get on your two feet, he'll be diligent.

Daniil might not be very good with vulnerability or emotions, but he has got everything else you could need. He will learn, never stay stagnant or let failure deter him. Whatever you require, he will accomplish and more.

Because he cares for you deeply.

The sight of you in pain is simply too much; he'll become restless and attempt to fix the situation in any way possible. He will make the pain go away. He is a doctor goddammit, and his degree has to amount to something in these situations.

It has to.

Artemy Burakh

Daniil learns to lovingly cradle your face and gently wipe the flowing tears. To reassure you that everything will be okay, he promises.

As early as he could remember, his father, Isidor, was always authentic with his emotions and feelings. Even more than most men were comfortable with showing during this time period.

Isidor taught him not only to listen to his heart, but to take it seriously. Emotions are what makes living worth living, what right do we have to supress them? If tears want to flow, then let them. If you care about someone, then cherish them.

The kin respected their own bodies and intuition, a burden shared is a burden halved, a joy shared is a joy doubled. They looked out for each other, they mourned with their neighbours and celebrated their friends achievements as if their own.

Generous in their love and sorrows.

They never subscribed to the notion of individualism or keeping up appearance, the put-together apathetic facade this new age is making people wear. The pointless masquerades and supressing emotions, the need to pretend that humans were something above the sensitivity of mammals.

That the heart was simply a machine.

These lessons were embedded deep within Artemy, to be proud of what he feels, to never ignore a single feeling nor diminish his own needs. He was loved, deeply during childhood and he carried that love with him everywhere he went.

It made him stand out during his years of travelling, his blunt authenticity made him memorable.

War is never easy, much stronger men became husks of themselves in front of his own eyes in the army. Artemy witnessed the fall of commanders with hearts of steel.

No matter how apathetic and uncaring anyone seems, their hearts are always laid bare before him on the surgery table, their lips always end up calling for their mother as Artemy extracts the ninth bullet from the deep wound in their thighs.

Yet his resolve never faltered no matter how grim his daily life became, his well of empathy never dried up. Because the answer to life difficulties was never to rawr and bite it back, you can't just be brave and bite the wind back.

His softness kept his mind intact. The love nurtured within him from a young age was what protected him during those years of madness. War couldn't break him, despair could never trick him, he trusted his body and heart far too much to fall into these traps.

If anything, his tested resolve only strengthened. He stubbornly digged his heels into the dirt below and refused to abandon hope.

You need to be soft in order to be truly strong. To allow the waves of emotions to pass through you like a river instead of constantly swimming against the tides.

No situation ia too hopeless, no pain is permanent. There is no dignity in suffering, there is no bravery in hurting.

Artemy is more aware of other's emotions than people realise. It's a children's game to imagine himself in someone else's shods and picture what they might be feeling. He just rarely mentions it or puts it to use.

People don't like it when you point out their emotions to them, he learned that the hard way. If someone wants to feign ignorance or remain unaware of their own feelings, than it is simply not his business.

He immediately notices it when your mood starts to shift. Of course he does; you're an important person in his life.

But you'll need to speak up for him to be able to address the elephant in the room. If you're not upfront or dismiss his questions about how are you feeling lately then he won't push the subject or attempt to force answers out of you. He'll respect your decision and wait until you come to him out of your own volition.

Artemy is a reliable support beam in this town, much like his father once was. Be it the kin or else, people entrust him with their moments of need and weakness. The kin seek him out during times of strife, he fullfills the Menkhu role earnestly.

Whatever you're facing seems much more manageable with him supporting your back. Catching you whenever you fall and allowing you to rest, sharing his wamrth with you when the world outside is too cold and cruel.

He makes you feel loved through his actions and words.

His smile is especially reassuring, the hardned face of someone who has seen far too much of humanity's cruel and sadistic side. Who has witnessed the worst of the worst of people and could still fearlessly love afterwards.

You'll be held in his arms, hugged and craddled for as much as you need. His body feels strong, you feel safe. He whispers words of wisdom, be it prayers to the earth to watch over you or reassurance that you're more than enough, that stronger than you know, that you'll always be more loved than any sense of despair could overwhelm you.

He keeps your body rested and well-fed, freshly cut fruits he coax you to try. Warm soup he shamelessly brings a pot of to your door each day in case you didn't have lunch, pouring you a glass of water whenever the two of you sit down. He is very attentive to your basic needs.

Your mind, however, he doesn't know a remedy for. He's deeply sorry that you've been dealt an unfair hand in this life, Artemy will ease the pain as many times as it takes. He will usher the monsters and whispering shadows away, he will guide you to the light whenever the corners of your mind get too dim.

Because he never takes your happiness for granted, he treasures every single day when you're sound of body and mind. He knows to count his blessings.

And it's worth it in the end to see you smile again. It's worth all the fussing and hard work, it's worth everything in this world. Loving you is worth it.

He's thoughtful, gentle, and patient. He listens to your tales of sorrow, lets you pour your heart out to him, and stain his clothes with your tears as he keeps a hand on your back. Telling you he is here, by your side and he is never going anywhere else.

He will remain here, protect and watch over you until his hair turns grey and his skin wrinkles.

Holding your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin, intertwining your fingers together as he pulls you closer.

Kissing the temple of your head, vowing your safety, whatever your cost may be.

Let him share your burden, entrust him with your pain. He will be strong enough for the two of you, he will be as soft as a feather to cushion your fall.

And everything will be okay.

[cosmiclion]

If you thought I couldn't outdo myself more with the fluff for this AU then you haven't seen my true power yet 😈

I don't know if I got OCiel's bangs right but, realistically speaking, human hair never stays in the same place, that's how physics works so whatever lmao.

Anyway, trying to write a Black Butler AU with some fluff where Sebastian and Ciel have a parent-child like relationship WHILE keeping them in-character (Sebas more than Ciel tbh) and still basing it on canon material but making changes and making said changes make sense requires a bit of work ngl.

I mean, I know it's just a project I'm doing for fun and technically there's nothing stopping me from going nuts and making them completely OOC and disregarding canon at all, but I feel then it'd become a separate story with new, original characters who simply happen to be inspired by Kuro (which is also okay, and who knows, maybe in the future I'll repurpose the whole thing to create my own Kuro-inspired original story, even if I don't think I'll ever fully lose interest in Kuro, this cursed series has me in a chokehold lmao). Full ramble under the cut.

Sebastian is the hardest one to write, though I think I'm finally more or less figuring it out. I didn’t want to write him as suddenly learning to love the way humans do thanks to the power of cute children or something, as it just didn't feel natural (or I couldn't personally make it feel natural, I know other people have managed to write that concept very well). What I have so far is that when he does act nurturing he’s simply imitating the behavior of human parents he has observed, but he doesn’t love the kid the same way humans do because he literally doesn’t have that ability. BUT that doesn’t mean he feels nothing at all and that it doesn’t mean anything to Ciel, after all this weird creature is the one who saved his life and raised him with care and patience. The closest comparison I can think of is the relationship between people and “unusual” pets like reptiles, amphibians, insects, etc. We know they can’t love us the way other people (or even other mammals) would but that doesn’t make our bond any less significant! Some bits of canon material also come in handy here, for example I based the fact that familiar Sebas finds Ciel adorable as a kitten on the canon fact that he likes squishing his cheeks because they remind him of a cat's paws 😂 Just know he's an awkward demon who doesn't know how to human but is doing his best 🥺

I think in Ciel’s case I have more freedom since he is, after all, human, and a human’s personality is strongly shaped by their environment and life experiences. Like, what exactly counts as making a character OOC? Sure, I can agree that in a fanwork set in the exact same universe with the exact same events as in canon there’s some things a character would never say or do, but I think AUs were created as a way to explore what-if scenarios. What if this character had been raised by different people? What if they had grown up in a different place? What if this or that event hadn’t happened or had gone differently? Tbh I think it’s just fun to explore endless possibilities, it’s maybe a form of character analysis in some way. And if we think about it, canonverse Ciel was originally sweet, shy and affectionate, and if he’s the complete opposite now it’s only because he went through an utterly horrific and traumatic event that forced him to grow up before his time and toughen himself up because it left him with little to no support system, on top of having to be hyper vigilant because the only thing that "saved" him from that is a literal demon who wants his soul and is haunting him.

So I just wanted to create this alternative timeline where maybe things aren’t as terrible, or they start out as terrible but then some good things come from the most unexpected sources. Ciel is five years younger and thus has more time to process everything and try to heal as he grows up. Sebas isn’t entirely a bastard and willingly does nice things for the child, even if he still doesn’t understand human needs, and while he stills views him as a potential meal (at least at the beginning) he's actually respectful. There’s another demon who understands humans all too well and is happy to lend a hand. His friends and the relatives he has left are more involved in his life. So Ciel more or less has a support system now, albeit a weird dysfunctional one, and doesn’t entirely lose his sweetness (also like... he's 5/6 at the beginning of the story, we really can't expect a preschooler to be an edgy emo who craves violence and revenge ☠️). I imagine he grows up to be just as calculating and cunning as canonverse Ciel, maybe even just as ruthless in his job because it’s a requirement, and is still pretty much a little shit, but this Ciel is not as cold and undemonstrative. He’s still very much an introvert who prefers to be left alone, but he smiles (as in genuinely smile) more often and it’s a little easier for him to express emotions and feelings (more through actions than words, but still meaningful). Hell he may allow himself to be playful and silly sometimes if he’s in the moment.

And if it wasn’t clear from the picture, little Ciel ADORES Sebastian. Sure he's (understandably) a bit skittish around him at first, but once they bond he comes to fully view him as a parental figure. Yes, he's hurt, sad and traumatized, but he's still a resilient little kid, and with enough kindness Sebas can coax his old self to come out of his shell, and until the kid becomes more independent they're like a mama duck and her lil duckling. Their constant banter and bickering when he's older is more a teens being teens thing than anything.

[bladeoffairness]

Sincerely how many examples would you need in this case to accept that trans women fetishizing misogyny and even defining their experience or identity as “a woman” by degradation, femininity or other such tropes is a significant pattern

Absolutely it isn’t every trans woman. Particularly not the ones who are gay men and/or men who were sexually abused (and hate their own genitalia) and/or men who identify this way because they simply have traits that happen to match cultural notions of femininity and so think that makes them a woman/not a man.

But it is a specific subset of trans women. It is also represented by some of the MAJOR thought leaders like those academics, which really should count for more in terms of evidence. Why isn’t this getting criticized by other academics who aren’t then cracked down on? Why is it being treated like a religion, a political orthodoxy it’s taboo to question at all? Women’s rights and minority rights are also very important and yet there is all sorts of criticism and questioning around various scholars and activists and specific groups approaching those issues in different ways. Is it maybe because a lot of trans activism falls apart when questioned from a rational and left wing perspective rather than a conservative one? I think so. They fear most legitimate critics and hope to conflate is all with the right wing to avoid ever having to answer a single one.

I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to here? Like I'm not looking to hit a certain limit of examples before I'll switch sides or something lmao.

What I want is for one of you to provide me actual evidence that being trans is fundamentally misogynistic, not just sending me links to memes you found on reddit and random books you've heard about.

Is there a subset of trans women who are misogynistic? Sure, probably. If you take any group of people large enough then you'll have no problem finding bad apples. There are gay people who are racist, there are vegans who are sexist, there are feminists who are transphobic. None of them mean that everyone in those groups is automatically also a bigot.