#anyways have a great and joyous day

[princejiu]

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing.  She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them. 

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine. 

[goldsainz]

HIS LUCKY CHARM — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: lando is disappointed you can’t make it to his home race, only to be surprised at the end.

request: “Hi! Could you write something about Lando and reader when she surprise him on race day. Lando is sad when she told can't do this on his home race bc something important with her work but after all she appears on Sunday on track. He is more than happy with that and archive good resolut be she is his lucky charm”

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst, a probably not accurate depiction of the garage

NOTE: WHAT A RACE!! loved the lando+lewis podium, also oscar was great 🫶 anyway, to celebrate have this little thing, thank you sm for requesting bc this inspired me a lot (you kinda manifested the good result???) i added a shameless cameo in there, i just couldnt help myself! (the ending is rushed, ignore it😁)

[ word count: 2,2k ]

“I’m so sorry, Lando.” Is what you say to your boyfriend when you have to break the bad news to him.

“It’s okay.” His face breaks into a broken smile, with glossy eyes he holds your hands and brushes his thumbs up and down your palms.

“I’ll still tune in.” 

“I know.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.” 

“I know.”

You take your hands from his hold, and place them around his neck. You watch as his right posture lightly relaxes at your touch. 

“I don’t wanna miss it. You know I don’t.” 

You wish your job wasn’t as demanding as it was, that it didn’t make you fly to another country in the middle of your boyfriend’s home Grand Prix. But it does. And you’re not sure how to handle the emotional stress it inflicts on you both, and you sure hope it doesn’t affect him in a way that will mess up his race.

“And if I could make it, I would.” 

“It’s alright. It’s your job, I know it’s not your fault.” Even though Lando’s words seem reassuring, and he means them with his whole heart; you still feel guilty. 

With that, he stands up and makes his way to the kitchen of your shared apartment. You watch him leave, and with a heavy heart start to pack whatever stuff you need for your trip. It destroys you to see him sad so close to his home race, a time where he should be joyous, only worried about the car and nothing more. 

You’re not sure how you’re going to make it up to him, but you will.

Somehow.

You were being a little secretive, and you were sure Lando definitely noticed. 

Your boss and you had managed to come to an arrangement which allowed you to be present for the race. It would all be very tight in timing, but nothing that couldn’t be accomplished. It involved a lot of overworking the days before, but it was very much worth it.

You could already imagine the face Lando would make when he finally saw you. Whether he got a good result or not, there was no doubt you wanted to be there with him. 

It took a lot of care for you to arrive at the paddock almost incognito, with fans already speculating why you weren't at his home race. Thankfully no break-up rumours had surfaced, but there were a couple hurtful ones that made you want to be present even more. 

But you knew that no matter how much Lando acted like he was oblivious to what happened around him, his silly act was simply that; an act. You didn't like keeping secrets from him, it felt wrong to have to blatantly lie to him whilst everyone around him knew something he didn't. Still, it would all work out in the end.

Lando’s family had been so happy to see you in the paddock. His grandma (who adored you) hugged you as tightly as she could, quickly bidding you goodbye when you told her you had to go to the garage quickly to get prepared for the race. 

There was no doubt that the tingly feeling of nerves creeped up on you the moment you spotted all the engineers and people moving around, getting everything that needed to be set up wrapped up so the race could go smoothly. Zak was already at the pit wall, and Lando was sitting in his car ready for the formation lap to begin. 

At the garage you spotted Florence Pugh, who had a McLaren headset on. You had seen her on the paddock, but wasn't aware of the fact that she had come to the race invited by McLaren. You tried not to freak out, you saw celebrities almost everywhere when you came to races or went out with Lando. Still, the actress had a special place in your heart.

It took a little of hyping yourself up, and confidence to walk up to her, but you did. You would be sharing the garage for an hour and a half, the least you could do is socialise a little. 

“Hi! I’m Y/N.” You said to Florence watching her turn around with a smile on her face.

“Hello!” She says, greeting you like you were an old friend. “I’m Florence”

“You’re a McLaren fan?” 

“Honestly, I’m more of a Lewis fan.” She said with a laugh, keeping ehr voice just loud enough so you could hear her.

“I get that. I mean, who isn’t?” 

The conversation flowed for a little more until the race was about to start. You excused yourself and moved to an area closer to the screen, where you could watch Lando close-up. You loved being in the garage because of the different screens and the attention to their drivers, that allowed you to experience the race in different ways.

Your headset was adjusted and you were awaiting the moment where David Croft would say it’s lights out. Your knee was slightly bouncing, but you tried your best to contain the nerves. 

“It lights out and away we go!” Exclaims David Croft, his voice echoing through the garage.

You watch as Lando has a great start, and it takes about a second for him to take the lead. You hear the roar of the crowd before you can even react.

“Yes! Go Lando!” You scream, your voice doesn't make anyone flinch because everyone around you has the same reaction. It is a sight to behold, a moment you are more than grateful to see live. 

“I can’t believe it.” Someone next to you says, and you can't help but smile. 

It is no secret how badly the season started for McLaaren. You watched Lando’s smile waver more than once, his faith in the team never wavering, but still. He was rightfully let down by the performance of the adr,a dn you had to reassure him multiple times that it wasn't his fault. Because he was doing the best that he could with what he had. 

So now, seeing him get to this moment, is absolutely deserved.

A couple of laps go by and Max takes the lead for your boyfriend. There is disappointment in the atmosphere, but everyone knows that P2 is a miracle and that Lando is doing absolutely great work out there. They all know how great it would be to have him finish in that position, especially since Oscar is P3. 

Getting a podium in Silverstone would mean the world to Lando, Which is why you're worried about what will happen when they pit. Whatever strategy they choose will determine if Lando gets podium or not, and you will not pretend to really know what happens or how they come up with strategies, but you hope that they dont mess up his race because of wrong timing or choose the wrong tyres. 

As you watch his car race, you suddenly see on the screen that one of the Haas cars has come to a halt. A safety car is deployed, which means a couple of cars will choose to change tyres. The whole garage groans when Lewis’s car comes out in front of Oscar’s after he pits, now challenging Lando’s position.

It’s like you can’t breathe between those laps that Lando and Lewis battle for P2. Everyone is at the edge of their seats watching them race against the other, and you hope that this doesn't end up running both their races. The last thing anyone wants is for them to crash, because going from that position to a DNF would result in disappointment for everyone involved.

“Come on, Lando! Come on!” You scream, your palms intertwined in front of you as you watch him fight for his position. 

Thankfully, Lando manages to maintain his standing and leaves Lewis behind him for good. The hard compound tyres he was pitted for are giving him a tough time, you know that it is not ideal. Not when he could've lost his position, but with just 10 laps to go your faith in him is over the roof. 

You’re on twitter, refreshing your timeline to see if there is anything you missed. The fans are so enthusiastic, their comments make you smile. Even if there are people out there who don't like Lando, there are even more who love him and want nothing but the best for him. 

You watch as Florence is escorted out of the garage since she will be waving the flag. You watch her face light up in excitement, and in all her excitement she still waves at you. You don't waste a second in waving right back at her, turning your head right after to the screens.

The moment Lando crosses the finish line the McLaren garage erupts in cheers. You hug whoever is next to you, a teary smile pulling at your lips. You cannot help the tears that fall down your face, you usually don't get that emotional during a race, but this is his home race and he is on the podium. If there is any time to cry, this is it. 

You are almost running to the barriers, waiting for the moment that Lando steps out of his car and goes to celebrate with the team. You are wearing his merch, something that will surely stand out to him, enough that in his podium haze he will spot you. 

He goes up to the team, his helmet now long gone, and that is when he sees you.

You who told him you couldn't make it, are suddenly there. 

In a flash he moves in front of you. You cannot tell him anything because in an instant he is grabbing you, squeezing you so tight he lifts you up from the ground in excitement, you giggle right in his ear and he is sure that that is the most beautiful sound he will ever hear. He is careful not to take the barrier with him, not wanting a warning from the stewards.

After a couple seconds you pull back slightly enough to see his face. Your hands waste no time in grabbing his face and placing his lips right over  yours. Lando reacts almost immediately, melting right into the kiss, the adrenaline from the race still pumping through his veins. You can hear some cameras click, and the cheer from some people, but you ignore it.

You have to pull back eventually, not because you want to, but because there is so much to say and not enough time, not to forget the fact that he has yet to go to the podium.

“I cannot believe you’re here.” He whispers right over your lips, his sticky forehead pressed against yours.

“I couldn’t miss this.” You say, watching as his lips pull into a grin.

“I was pretty cool out there, wasn't I?” You snort at his words, separating from him but his hands never leave your waist.

“Oscar was really cool.” His grip on your waist tightens, “I haven’t properly congratulated him yet, actually.”

Someone from the team says something to him, you're sure they're telling him to wrap your conversation up because he has to go up to the podium. 

“You were great out there.” You tell him, your eyes holding all the sincerity in the world. You watch his gaze soften at your words, and he places a quick peck as he finally lets you out of his hold.

“Of course I was,” You shake your head at his smugness, “My lucky charm was here.”

You cannot help the tears that well up in your eyes at the softness of his words. You know that the celebrations and compliments are not over, but for now they are. You step back a little from the barrier, seeing as he is rushed to the podium and joins his fellow drivers on the steps. 

You smile up at him, watching as he grabs the champagne. He moves it around a little and then hits it against the ground, effectively bringing back the iconic champagne spike he does whenever he is on the podium. 

Lando sprays it everywhere, and you're almost sure a little hits you. Your theory is confirmed when he is smiling widely at you, like a kid caught doing something he should but isn't the least bit sorry. You laugh at his antics, which in turn makes him smile even wider (which you're not sure how it's even possible). 

When the champagne runs out, his gaze catches yours once more. You mouth an “I love you” to him, watching from afar as he blushes. A second after he returns the sentiment, mouthing it back and blowing you a kiss.

You thank your boss in your head for letting you be here with him, because if you hadn't been here with him you would've sure felt horrible for it. 

After all, Lando needs his lucky charm with him and you're more than happy to oblige to his wishes.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

We got to see Crewel’s reaction towards his pup proposing to her mate. So, what would be his reaction to hearing he’s going to be a grandpa to with each suitor. I know he’ll be too happy to have grandpups from Vil or a heart attack with Leona and Silver, since he has to deal with Lillia more.

Yandere Father Crewel’s Reaction to Grandpups 

In general, he’s conflicted between being overwhelmingly joyous and incredibly mortified. His baby now has babies!!! What!? Depending on who’s your baby daddy he’s leaning towards one or the other:

Vil Schoenheit

“Awww such beautiful grandpuppies!”

He’s crying in private 

Both in happiness and in realization of your growth (and his own)

Looking at the twins’ faces makes it easier 

The little bits of your attitude or appearance helps him forget what had to be done to get them

“I’ll look past it for the sake of the pups but this doesn’t make you anymore of her guardian than I.”

“You’re exactly right. I’m simply a fellow protector and compliment to her beauty and happiness. Isn’t it best that we stay on the best of terms in order for us to do our duties effectively?”

“...hmmm…I don’t disagree. So yes let’s work in harmony on her behalf.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Of all the motley–grr! Stop smirking like that! Humble yourself for once in your despicable life!”

Leona’s willingness to spur your father on in his raging only makes it worse

The moment you and your new little one are out of the room 

He’s trying to at least instill a smidge of guilt or fear of him to ensure Crewel is given due respect as your father

But Leona will never submit and he’s intent on making your father explode before giving the old man peace

“Baba, why is Babu so red?”

“Oh? It’s cause he’s trying to push out a poop. You know what that’s like right? You should go comfort him.”

“Right! *runs to Crewel* Babu! Its okay you can let it all out whenever you’re ready!”

“T-thanks pup.”

He’s promises to kill Leona for embarrassing him in front of his grandpup

Silver

“Whooo already?! I’m so proud! Now when will we be getting the next batch!?”

“On the spots of a dalmatian please don’t…I can’t take it anymore!”

Don’t get him wrong he loves his grandpuppies 

But he’s just exhausted 

If his hair wasn’t white already it would become so very soon

The stress of having to give you away 

Only to be succeeded by the existence of his little grandpuppies

All the while having to deal with his ‘Granddad Best Buddy’ that has attached himself to his side

He’s just so fed up he doesn’t have time to directly hate on Silver

Who doesn’t always understand his malice anyway

So instead he’ll curse the fae general in his stead

But he’s just screaming into the void because Lilia lovingly ignores any protest he has

“Can’t you understand?! I don’t wish to spend the day with you or your child, I just want to spend the day with my daughter and grandpups!”

“Ahh so you want to let the two love-birds have a night to themselves? What a great idea! Will take the kiddies for the day! Oooh where should we go? The amusement park? The park? Your house-?”

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”

[brynnasaurus]

if i can be sincere and ramble for one moment, before the inevitable Barbenheimer backlash begins (it's coming, it might already be here, that's just how the internet works):

Last weekend was so fun. I'm at the movie theater pretty much every weekend because I love seeing movies on the big screen but the atmosphere last weekend was so palpably different and exciting and joyous and even if you were to take a cynical view of the entire experience ("it's just a capitalist toy commercial" etc.) it still doesn't really change the fact that people were just having fun. they were cheering, they were joking - half of my Oppenheimer audience were wearing pink but taking the movie very seriously. people were dressed up as Weird Barbie, Goth Barbie, there was a guy wearing a suit with a pink fedora and a pink tie - people were soberly discussing feminism and nuclear disarmament in the bathroom - it was all so strange and thrilling and lovely. it just felt like it was bringing everyone together in a way that was really wholesome - these days it's rare to see people come together like this in a positive way - people are so at odds with one another in every facet of modern life, and sometimes it feels like the only time we're all together on anything anymore is when we have to team up to tear something down (usually justifiably so) - and i don't really mean for this to sound too self-important or whatever, i know they're just movies - but... it's just nice to know we're still capable of all just having fun together? i know that's a corny sentiment, but, what can i say, i must speak my truth.

i had friends and co-workers who are not normally movie buffs texting me and talking to me at the office like - "brynn! did you see barbie?! did you see oppenheimer?! let's talk about it!" my head was spinning! my heart was happy!

it just sucks that it's coming right at the moment where hollywood seems to be on a very serious self-destructive path - i want them to learn that "event" movies do not necessarily need to mean marvel movies or reboots of fading franchises concepted and written by computer algorithms - you could argue that both of these movies are tied to existing IP: barbie the toy and christopher nolan movies are well known properties in and of themselves - but they're still wholly original movies with a lot on their minds and a lot to say - and regardless of whether you love or hate either film (i personally thought both were great but i've seen criticism of both that are totally valid!), the conversation around them has been really thoughtful and interesting (right-wing trolls excepted, obviously), which is not something you can really say about Fast X or Jurassic World or Quantumania or whatever.

anyway. movies are great! movies can be important! writers and actors deserve to be paid for all the love and effort they pour into these things! and i'm glad we all got to share this together. 💖

[moonstruckme]

Oh last one I swear. But nobody seems to write any Peter fics where the reader is an artist/art student and I just always saw the concept as rlly cute. Like science student and art student do you see where I’m going with this 😋 anyways. Just brainrot. Idk if this counts as a request lmao

-🍁/🍂 (iforgot what emoji I use)

Hi again, haha! I didn't set out to answer both your asks in one day, but I already had this one ready to go, so. I know you didn't necessarily request it, but I decided to write a little blurb anyway, hope you like it! (And it's the first emoji, but I'll know it's you either way :))

Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 598 words

Peter used to get an odd sort of pride from thinking he was always the last one on campus, messing around in the lab until the early hours of the morning. But then he’d met you, and you’d totally dethroned him. 

There’s bright light coming from inside one of the art studios when Peter passes by, and he detours, heading for it. He’s a mutant that can run on an average four hours of sleep and his eyes are aching, so he can’t imagine how exhausted you must be. But if he didn’t interfere, he wonders if you’d go home at all. 

When he enters the studio, he has to close his eyes against the sparks jumping off your project. 

“Sweetheart?”

The light behind his eyelids fades, and he opens them to see you lifting your welder’s helmet, setting your torch down on the table beside you. 

“Peter, hey.” You blink as though coming out of a fog. “Are you already done for the night?”

He smiles at you, moving closer to admire your sculpture. It doesn’t look quite halfway done, but to Peter’s crude eye, it seems like it’s coming along beautifully. You’d shown him your sketch before you’d started, it’s going to be massive and elaborate by the time you’re done. But you won’t be finishing tonight. 

“It’s nearly four, baby. Time to pack up.” 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, seriously?” He nods, and you purse your lips, displeased with the passage of time. “Okay, you go ahead. I’m going to get to a good stopping point, and I’ll meet you at home.” 

It sounds reasonable, but Peter knows you better. 

“You can get back to it tomorrow,” he says, slipping your helmet off for you and placing it carefully beside your torch. “Don’t you think it’ll come out even better if you’re well-rested while you work? I don’t want my girl getting in a blowtorch accident.”

“I’m not that tired,” you argue, but your blinks are slow, almost dazed, and Peter suspects that if he put a pillow under your head right now, you’d pass out in a hot second. “And I’m too good to burn myself.” 

Peter grins. “That’s true,” he agrees, moving behind you to untie your apron. You let him slip it over your head. “It’s looking really great, by the way.” He undoes in the tight bun in the back of your head, knowing your scalp has to be sore. “Did you make any changes from your original idea?”

“A couple.” You lean into Peter’s fingers as he massages the back of your head lightly, shaking your hair out at the roots. “Sometimes it just goes where it wants to go, you know?”

“I don’t,” he says, taking your hand to lead you out of the room, “but I believe you.” 

You chuckle. It turns into a yawn halfway through. “Right, sorry. What’d you do today, bug boy?”

Peter hangs your apron on the hook by the door, closing it behind you. You’re all but leaning into him, further proof that you’re more drowsy than you’re letting on. “You know, bug things.” 

“Come on.” You bump your hip into his lightly, and your voice is by no means loud, but it creates a soft echo in the dark, empty building. “You got to see my project, tell me about yours.” 

Peter shrugs. “I was just messing around with environmental nanotoxicology.” 

Your laugh rings out, surprised and joyous, in the silent hallway. “I have no idea what that means,” you say, pulling him closer to you by his hand. “Tell me about it?”

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt 28: Moonlight

Words: 1.7k | Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

Most nights, when the chaos of the others had become too much, you’d sneak out for walks. The only places you could manage without being caught were The Great Hall, the common room or the library, and most were empty at night anyways.

Tonight was different, usually you’d sneak out alone in the graces of James’ invisibly cloak; however, you never expected to cross a lounging Remus on the way out. Well, you had no intentions of actively crossing him, but you’re sure you’d bumped something that grabbed his attention tonight, or he simply knew of your secret routine.

“Sneaking out again, are we?”

“I just want to see the world… or the castle at least,” you whine sarcastically.

He closes a Defense Against the Dark Arts book that has been nudged between his fingers for days now. You can even see the indents between his fingers where the weighted book cover and pages had lain for much too long.

“I’ll join you. And no time for protesting,” he sighs. “I get enough of that from Sirius and James, even Peter now.”

“If you insist,” you whisper and pull the cloak back just enough to let your curls out. They’re still damp from your shower and removing your plaits, but they always dried faster the more you wandered throughout the castle. “But Remus, I must warn you that the library can be very boring at night, even for people like us.”

He takes a step closer, tucking his book somewhere on the mantle behind you with a smile.

“Then we shall explore the grounds tonight. Outside.”

You smirk to hide the joyous feelings bursting inside of you. Finally a real adventure and not alone. And going out with Remus would be of no harm since you always find yourself around him, courtesy of your older brother, James.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Remus is waiting for you to lead the way. Under the veil of the cloak, you both wander out of the common room and down into the long, dark corridors. No one can see you under the cloak, shoulder to shoulder with him. No one can see a map in Remus’ hand that opened at his touch just before the both of you mindlessly rushed towards a hidden passageway leading out of the castle, just near the greenhouses, for a lick of freedom.

The moment the late autumn wind sweeps over you, both warm and cool, you feel a sense of relief. Enough to bring the cloak just onto the shoulders of you and Remus.

In the distance, there are twinkling lights and bright stars in the sky. There’s the sound of whatever leaves are left on the trees being plucked by the wind, swept up and crashing onto the ground with their former friends. A vicious cycle.

You can see the darkened clouds splotched near the moon. And with the clouds, you only spot no more than a sliver of the moon, but you wouldn’t dare journey out if it were full. And in the distance, you can make out the outline of the Whomping Willow, a ghastly and dangerous plant that should certainly be nowhere near students.

“We can’t possibly be going there.”

“We are. It’s safe, I promise,” Remus assures, giving you a firm glance to accompany his words.

And you trust him, you always have.

As you two approach the tree, there’s a stillness in the air that lasts for only a moment before the branches stretch out towards the moon in a whipping snap. Within a second, Remus readies his wand, firmly casts Immobulus, and the stir of violent branches instantly freeze into place.

“Come on,” he chuckles, quite amused by your awe in the simplest of things. He grabs your hand and follows you into the crawl space underneath the tree.

There isn’t much light until he casts Lumos and with that, you know it’s safe here.

“Where are we going exactly?” You inquire as you follow him through the tunnel.

“The Shrieking Shack.”

“Rumors say that place is haunted.”

He stops short, turning to you in the light of his wand and the walls of the tunnel. You take in his scars, once violently slashed across his face, but very faint now. They were something you knew him to be insecure about, but you never minded. And up close, you can see the way his skin has fused with them, how they’ve permanently become a part of him. You reach up to caress his cheek, just to touch him, and he doesn’t even flinch. There’s actually a softness that quickly overcomes him when he gazes down at you and you, up at him. You’ve been close to Remus, but never close enough to smell the sweetness of chocolate that lingers on his breath and surely not close enough for his lips to part above yours. Your eyes begin to flutter closed in comfort, but the coolness of his smirk widens them back.

“We should get going. It’s cold down here, we should get you warmed up.”

You want to grab the collar of his hoodie that he’s been wearing long before you found him perched on the couch in the common room. There’s no way he didn’t feel the electricity between the two of you, but a rumbling above the ground snatches your thoughts and you return to reality.

“It’s just a storm rolling in,” he states.

You hadn’t noticed that after the encounter, his hand had found yours, partially in your hand and partially on your wrist. Maybe he detected a spike in your pulse at the sudden noise or he really knows you more than he lets on.

At the clearing of the tunnel, you and Remus climb through a hinged door, then through the doors of the old abandoned house. Tattered wallpaper has been peeling off the walls for decades, revealing weathered wooden slats within the walls. There’s an old mattress on the holey floorboards, but newer blankets, sheets and pillows on top of it. Glass from an old window hardly glistens in the distance, covered in dirt and dust. The window itself has been patched up with boards and rusty nails older than your own existence. And the dusty floors have scars long and deep carved into the wood.

“I’ve been coming here a lot. I’m sure James has mentioned it,” he says bluntly, voice fading somewhere in the background.

“I didn’t want to believe it… that you have to manage something so painful all alone.”

The floor squeaks against the weight of his thin frame and he comes back with handfuls of chocolates.

“My secret stash. Have to keep it in a trunk to keep the creatures out. Though, I don’t see them much now that I’ve been here and decorated the place.”

You smile, biting back a small giggle.

He steps closer, in front of you now. His eyes are full and attentive.

“Close your eyes, alright? I want you to try something.” You hear the rustling of a wrapper the moment you close your eyes for him. “And open your mouth,” he adds sweetly.

And you do.

You hum softly, mouth watering at the sudden taste of perfect bitterness and sweetness. The sweetness melts against the warmth of your tongue, some sort of chocolate you don’t recognize from Honeydukes or the trolley on rides home for breaks. Without realizing it, you’re backing towards the mattress in the corner next to the fireplace. Remus had lit it at some point and only your nose recognized the pinch of burning firewood.

“Don’t open just yet,” he whispers, voice echoing through your ear canal like a rubber ball in a young muggle’s hands, like pure bliss.

His hands gliding over your shoulder blades are enough to make you want to steal a peak at him, but you fight your instincts. You allow yourself to feel the goosebumps pricking against your chilled skin from the trace of the pads of his fingertips. Though, with his breath this hot on your neck, you’re nowhere near freezing.

“Remus,” you moan. He only hums in return. After all, what can he say when you’re already falling apart under his grasp. “Kiss me…”

There’s a moment of silence. A moment when his touch melts into your skin underneath your chin and he gently tilts your head back. Nothing comes until you open your eyes. You’ve never seen a man so perfect. You can see it in his heavy, yearning eyes, all the ways you can have him in your grasp.

Nearly any time passes before he delves into you, planting a heavy, openmouthed kiss against your lips, tasting the sweet aftertaste of chocolate on your tongue. You toss the cloak down, your robe, wand and short set pajamas follow until you’re standing half naked in front of the man you snuck out with. Remus can’t process it, can’t help but lie you down on the old mattress he’s slept on alone almost a month ago and many months before.

In the coolness of the room, you feel nothing but warmth with Remus’ hands and lips on you. Your moans faltering under the soft crackling of the fire and his own chuckling.

When he returns to you, he’s still in complete awe, stroking your cheek softly and playing with strands of your hair as you stare up at him. And when you finally allow your gaze to wander past him, just through a sliver in the ceiling and beyond the storm, you can see a waxing gibbous in the night sky so vividly. You stare at the moon, taking in the small dark spots visible from Earth’s view. You know that in just a few days, you’ll be seeing this view from inside the safety of the castle. You pull Remus closer in your arms, mindlessly stroking his hair at the thought of you sneaking out to the library or Great Hall while he lied here alone waiting for the moon the fade out and overtake him.

“Remus,” you yawn.

“Mhm.”

“Just promise me that once you’re back, we’ll take another walk under the moon.”

He sits up onto his elbow and brings your gaze back towards him.

“I promise,” he replies and pulls you into a tender kiss under the moonlight.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[blueesnow]

Kotobuki Reiji's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.

-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

<You (Player)> Reiji: Thank you for the celebration~! I held a party today, so make sure you come okay Kouhai-chan☆ Reiji: And of course there'll be an afterparty later~☆ The participant will be just you and me. …Will you tell me you're happy about it?

<Otoya> Otoya: Rei-chan, Happy Birthday! As a Senpai-Kouhai duo with a great chemistry, let's continue to have lots of fun together from now on! Reiji: Aww~! You said the cutest thing ever! Onii-san shall do his best to keep up so that he won't lose to Otoyan's growth okay☆

<Masato> Masato: You never forgets to pay attention to your surroundings. Seeing you like that made me want to learn more from Kotobuki-senpai's example. Happy Birthday. Reiji: Hearing that from Hijirin made me so happy~! I should do my best as well to continue being a role model☆

<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday! It's always fun being together with Rei-chan-senpai. I think you have an amazing power! Reiji: Thank you—! Nattsun is always happy go lucky so it's worthwhile talking to you☆

<Tokiya> Tokiya: Happy Birthday. Even though it's a joyous occasion, please be careful as to not get carried away, okay? Reiji: Tokki is as strict as usual! But I already knew that's also your way of being kind♪

<Ren> Ren: Happy Birthday, Bukki! Let's go for a drive together again somewhere and refresh ourselves. Reiji: Thank you Ren-Ren☆ I'll go pick out some good places later okay~♪

<Syo> Syo: Reiji-senpai, Happy Birthday! I found a good hat shop, so let's go shopping there together! Reiji: Eh~! If it’s a shop recommended by Syo-tan, then I have high expectations of it☆ Thanks, I'm looking forward to it!

<Cecil> Cecil: Happy Birthday! You've always been so kind to me, so today I will return the favor! Reiji: Cesshi! I'm so happy to hear that I almost burst into tears! To think that's how you thought of me already made my day☆

<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: It's your birthday? Well, Happy Birthday. I have nothing more to say at this point. Whether it's about music or other works, let's put all that we've had into it. Reiji: Why of course! Let's always do our best with our full power☆ I'll accept your celebration wish to me♪

<Ai> Ai: Since it's your birthday, why don't you show a bit of your maturity? Anyway, Happy Birthday Reiji. Reiji: Ai-Ai, thank you~! Don't get burned while looking at the grown-up Rei-chan, okay☆ Ah, don't ignore me!

<Camus> Camus: Since we're in the same group, let's at least celebrate your birthday. So, I assume there'll be a cake later, right? Reiji: Wait a minute~! Geez, Myu-chan you're so dishonest. But thanks for the birthday wish♪

<Eiichi> Eiichi: Looks like it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday. Since we're both the one who's responsible in keeping the group together, I'd like to talk about it sometime with you. Reiji: Thank you~☆ Although I'm not actually the leader, I'm interested in that topic. Do tell me more♪

<Kira> Kira: Happy…Birthday. The ability to create a cheerful atmosphere…and bring people together. It's a charm that I don't have. I'd like to learn it from you. Reiji: The fact that you praised me so seriously made this Onii-san so happy…! Let's learn a lot from each other's good points okay☆

<Nagi> Nagi: Happy birthday☆ I heard you knew a lot of retro words. If you knew something cute, do tell me~♪ Reiji: Ugh, is this what you call a generation gap… You're already cute enough as it is, I don't think you need that~☆

<Eiji> Eiji: Happy Birthday. I think it's so amazing that you've always made the atmosphere on set so relaxing. Reiji: Oh no~ I'm a little embarrassed to be told that by a guy from the different agency☆ It's perfectly OK for you to always imitate me♪

<Van> Van: I heard it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday! In exchange for celebration I have a suggestion, can you put a pizza on the Kotobuki Lunchbox? Reiji: Pizza~!? But, it might be quite a good surprise. I'll go and talk to them about it later☆ Thanks for the advice!

<Yamato> Yamato: Birthday, huh. I'm happy for you. I've always been indebted by this karaage from your place. Let me also express my thanks to you. Reiji: Don't tell me you're actually a big fan of our store!? That's great~♪ Also thanks for the birthday wish too☆

<Shion> Shion: I can feel such a warm vibes from your machocho word. I wish you a happy and prosperous day. Reiji: Don't tell me I'm being praised!? At times like this thank you very very machocho☆ Make sure to use it with HE★VENS too okay♪

[mythica0]

A whosamawhatsit?

🎂: Fop; a new wish

🧁.Dev

🍫: Peri

Summary: Dev gets his first ever lee mood. He is confused.

A/N: yes I’m writing lee dev ler peri again, what it to ya! This fic takes place after the other two I wrote, I kinda got a timeline going. Also I hope someone gets my title 🙏 (btw it’s pronounced who’s-a-muh-what’s-it) I’m not super happy with the ending but eh.

(P.S I got so flustered writing this. Also, Beta read by @randommusicalfluff!)

A whosamawhatsit?

Dev felt strange.

As soon as he woke up, he felt… odd. In a way he couldn’t quite place.

His whole body was buzzing, he felt like he was a soda can that had been shaken. He felt light and airy, and almost bouncy?

He was also in a better mood than usual? He didn’t know why he was just… less meh. He actually woke up and smiled.

He stretched and got dressed, having an Au-pair bring him a donut for breakfast.

“Hey kid, G’morning!”

Dev looked up at Peri and smiled, giving him a small wave. “Good morning, Peri!”

Peri sensed something. He didn’t say anything. He wanted to be sure.

“Well someone’s chipper this morning!”

Dev hesitated and smiled. “Yeah.. guess I am!” Dev was confused. He felt so… odd. He felt like he wanted.. something? What was it…

The rest of the school day went as normal, but the whole time Dev was contemplating and confused. He noticed more as the day went on.. he found things funnier than he usually did, felt a need for physical contact. And that bubbly, fizzing feeling in his stomach grew, along with to a sense of longing. If only he could figure out what he wanted!

Peri observed throughout the day. His sense had never been wrong before, and it was blaring! This kid had a lee mood, he just knew it. Time to have a little chat!

After Dev and Peri had arrived back at the mansion, and entered Dev’s room, Peri started the conversation.

“So, Dev, how are you feeling?”

Dev looked up. “Hmm? Oh, I feel great, thanks for asking!” He answered genuinely, smiling.

“That’s good! But I meant.. feel any different than usual?”

Dev didn’t know how Peri knew, but he replied honestly anyway.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Hmmm, how so?”

“Well.. I’ve felt like.. buzzy? All day. Also pretty light. I’ve found things funnier than usual… and a sense of … longing? But I can’t figure out what it is that I’m longing for.”

“Ahh, my sensors never fail!” Dev looked confused. “Worry not, kid, for I know exactly what you want.”

“How do you know what I want when I don’t?”

“Well, you’re in a lee mood! And I always know when someone’s in a lee mood.”

“A.. whosamawhatsit?”

“Oh yeah you don’t know what that is, do you?”

Dev shook his head, intrigued and listening but also very confused.

“Well, A lee mood is when someone wants to be tickled!” Immediately Dev’s face burned as he realized that.. yup, that was what that sense of longing was about. “It often comes with buzzing or tingling sensations and a chipper attitude, which you have been displaying!”

Dev blinked, and let out a flustered, “….huh.”

“Sooooo?” Peri drawled, teasingly.

“So- what?” Deb responded, an eyebrow raised.

“Do you want me to tickle you?” Peri said, so casually, as if discussing the weather.

Dev blushed even more. “Uh- I- ummm-“ he didn’t quite know how to respond. He did. But he didn’t wanna say that! That’s embarrassing!

“I’m not hearing a no~”

Dev continued to stammer embarrassedly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make ya say it!” Peri teased, pulling dev into a hold. Dev covered his red face with both hands.

Peri smiled and started scribbling against the kids ribs, causing his joyous giggles to pour from him.

“Are you gonna uncover your face so I can see your precious smile~”

“Nohohohohoho!”

“Oh, really~ are you suuureee~”

Dev mustered some false confidence. “Ye-yeahahahah!”

“Alright then, guess I’ll just have to make you.”

Right after he finished his sentence, Peri shot up to Dev’s underarms, digging with just enough pressure to really tickle.

Out of instinct, Dev’s arms shot down.

“Aww, too bad~ where’d all that stubbornness go?”

“I Cahahahahant hehehehehehelp ihihit!! Ehehahhaha!”

“Well, if you’re gonna try to be all stubborn then you should probably work on that.”

“Eehahahhaahahaaa! Gehehehet ouhohohout ohohohof thehehehre!!!”

Peri pouted sarcastically. “I can’t~ my hands are stuck~”

“Nohohoho thehehey ahahahrehehent yohohou liahahahar!”

Peri made a fake attempt to remove his hands, before once again teasing, “see? They won’t budge! Guess I’ll just have to stay here and tickle and tickle and tickle for the rest of time!”

“Nohohohoho!! Gohoho sohohomwhehehere ehehehelse!!

“Oh, so you don’t want me to stop? You just want me to go somewhere else? And why is that, this a bad spot~?” The lilt in his voice made Dev’s face go even darker than it was.

“Nohohohoho! Eheheheee!” Dev was kicking lightly, unable to stop the happy laughter and energy that flowed through his whole body.

“No? That’s not why? Hmm… is it because you want me to tickle your little tummy? Is that why? Does this cute little tummy want some of the tickly tickly tickles?”

Dev blushed even harder(somehow) and continued to kick lightly and giggle. But he didn’t deny it.

“Oh~~? No denial?? That must be it, then huh~”

“Eeeehehehehahaha! Dohohohohooonttt!” Dev whined through his bubbly giggles.

“Oh~ so you don’t want me to tickle your little belly? You don’t want me to make you feel all giggly and happy from the tummy tickles?”

Dev just whined again, laughter never stopping, smile never leaving his face.

“No? You do? Well, then why’d you say ‘don’t’ hmm? If you do want me to tickle your tummy, then don’t what?”

“Nohohoho tehehehaseihihing!!”

“Aww, I’m afraid I can’t do that~ teasing is part of the fun!”

Dev just giggled some more.

“Well~ if you want me to tickle tickle tickle that little tummy of yours, you’re gonna have to move your arms. I’m still stuck!”

“Ihihihi cahahahahant!!

“Well then, why don’t I help you out~” Peri kept tickling with his right hand, but took his left and pulled Dev’s arms up over his head, with no protest. He held them there for just a moment, before digging into Dev’s oh so ticklish tummy.

Dev’s giggles grew bigger, renewed by the change in sensation.

Dev couldn’t and wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was having the time of his life. The ticklish jolts sending through his stomach to the rest of his body, making him laugh and smile and kick joyfully. Forcing him to be happy, forcing him to giggle and laugh brightly. At some point he had tears of joy forming in his eyes.

He was so happy right now, and that made him embarrassed.

After a good few minutes off the tickles, Peri stopped, sensing that the kid had had enough.

He poofed up some water for him, encouraging him to drink slowly.

Dev giggled for a while, breathing heavily, trying to brush away left over tickles. He drank the water, let his face cool down, and allowed his giggles to slow and then stop.

“Welp, now you know what a lee mood is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah- I guess I do!” …. There was a pause, then a breath. “Do you get lee moods?”

Uh oh.

———THE END————————————————

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 35 (Parental Guidance)

A few nights after Malcolm's visit, Heather took Ash to see his grandparents at her childhood home in Henford. On arrival, she was greeted with the joyous news that Cassandra was expecting her and River’s first child!

She let her predicament take a backseat as the family sat down to dinner, and she didn't want to tell her parents she was seriously overthinking an old tale about a curse. But as she gathered the empty plates at the end of the meal, her mother could see something was bothering her. At Daisy's urging, Heather confessed what she'd done.

"I hacked into Landgraab Systems to crash the app they stole from me, and I thought I was going to be arrested."

"Arrested?! Buttercup, what the hell were you thinking?" Her dad, Neal, tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

Her brother, on the other hand, offered her a fistbump. "Right on! Screw the Landgraabs."

Cassandra shook her head, but couldn't wipe the smile from her face around her husband. "River, she could have gone to prison!"

"I know it was stupid," Heather insisted. "I told the detective the truth but the Landgraabs ended up not pressing charges. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean 'not yet?'"

"I mean Malcolm came by the other day and offered me a deal. He'll give me 40,000 simoleons for our son if I change his last name to Landgraab and file a custody agreement. They're also willing to let me buy out the clinic if I can come up with another 175,000. But they won't sell if I don't make Ash a Landgraab."

"That's a steep price," said Daisy cautiously.

"It's a steal from the Landgraabs," her father muttered, frowning. "We don't have that kind of money."

"You helped me with the down payment for the clinic in the first place. I don't know what to do but I won't ask you that."

Her parents exchanged careful glances. "You may not want to hear this, but you cost yourself a lot of leverage and the offer may be too good to turn down," said her mother. Her father nodded reluctantly in agreement, embracing his daughter with a comforting hug.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"You want independence from the Landgraabs financially, and this is a fair way to do it," reasoned her brother. "Besides, if Malcolm's finally ready to embrace his role as a father I think, deep down, you want that for your son, despite your own feelings about him. And why wouldn't you? We had a great dad; everyone should be so lucky! Ash, too."

Heather looked at her younger brother with a smile. "When did you get so wise?"

"You only think I'm wise because you're a butthead, Butts."

With her family’s support, she sent Malcolm the paperwork confirming their son was a Landgraab in name, and he transferred the lump sum payment as promised. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I'm really sorry to those who didn't want Heather to change his last name, but I really wanted there to be a big consequence for the hack. I wasn't feeling a prison storyline and this is the next worst-case scenario. In my head she didn't have room to negotiate after the hack (the proof exists even if Conrad chose not to reveal it, but he's too honest a cop to delete the evidence) and it was an all-or-nothing deal.

NOTE 2: I know I'm loading this story with characters but Heather is so close with her family I can't leave them behind in Gen 1, even if I wanted to. Neal gave them their nicknames when each of them were born, like a tradition, picking various plants, mostly yellow, due to yellow being one of Daisy's favourite colours. But a quick rundown on Heather and her siblings-

Heather "Buttercup" Nesbitt b. 2025 - Ash (Nesbitt) Landgraab b. 2050 (son of Malcolm) Holly "Daffodil" (Nesbitt) Bell b. 2027 m. Kristopher "Kris" Bell (son of premades Michael Bell & Cecilia Kang) River "Huckleberry" Nesbitt b. 2029 m. Cassandra Goth Hazel "Dandelion" Nesbitt b. 2033 currently dating Nicola Moody-McMillan, the daughter of premade Kim Goldbloom and a random townie. Nicola's grandfathers were Kim's adoptive dads (via MCCC), Ian Moody & Derek McMillan but they died in a riverboat cruise disaster (off-screen because the game culled them unexpectedly).

Since I put dates in to show the age differences in the siblings, for those who care it's about 2051 in game right now. Heather is 26 and Ash is not yet 2. The year won't really mean anything, it's not a historical or futuristic challenge, but I like to keep track.

Also yes I'm going for sometimes-obnoxious sibset theming with names in this save. The theme in Gen 1 was flowers and plants (Daisy was a botanist but Neal achieved Outdoor Enthusiast so he's big into nature, herbalism and sustainability as an eco-civil designer). River got his slightly off-theme name because I wanted to use it, and the River Bagley IS a prominent feature in Henford, after all! But I'm sorry about all the H names, it's a lot!

Kris & Holly and Nicola & Hazel (who looks like Heather with blue eyes and w/o glasses), since River & Cass are above:

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 1.0

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

20th December

Barcelona, Spain

Most days in the hospital were surprsingly good. Despite the unholy shift rotations - sometimes going from a late to an early shift, only giving her six hours of sleep before having to return there - Cassandra liked her work at the hospital overall.

She appreciated the routine, but also the occasional challenges. Even Pavlo decided to stop being a massive nuisance.

She even got her own group of first-years she did the round with. Now being the one acting like a quiz master which was highly entertaining, even if she had to stay professional and couldn't openly show it.

Sure, sometimes it got tiring whenever the rookies came running to her for every silly question, but she also enjoyed it. It made her feel important.

Her upskilling in surgery also began soon. It'd surely be interesting and instructive to get more insight in the opposite medical field. And frankly, she was kind of excited to witness her first real surgery.

All in all, it went well.

However, that didn't mean all days were pleasant like that.

That particular day, for example, had been one of those not-so-great-ones. The cloudy weather and her pms not helping either. Making her extra emotional after treating one of her older patients.

Her early shift ended and after bidding goodbye to Stella who had a double-shift ahead of her, she made her way out into the pre-Christmas coldness.

Christmas season was joyous for most people - or at least that was what commercials wanted her to believe - but for the young physician it had ended being fun when she'd found out Santa wasn't real at the age of eight.

The only thing she linked to this holiday now were family chaos and, well, presents. Quite superficial, in retrospective. Although she did miss the family chaos as she hadn't been able witnessing it quite often due to her work these years.

This year, however, she'd get to witness it all again, one more shift tomorrow and then she'd fly over to her home country. She'd have been more thrilled though if there wasn't one thing that concerned her. Or rather someone.

Taehyung.

He knew she'd leave soon, she'd told him over the phone. And he wanted to visit her before, but couldn't promise being able to do so.

Cassandra wondered if her boyfriend could make it after all, he still had one and a half days left. And if not, she wondered if he'd visit her in her hometown instead. He'd met her parents when randomly showing up during one of their visits a few months ago anyway, so the biggest hurdle had already been taken.

Her brown irises focused on the ground as she adjusted the grip on her backpack. A heavy sigh leaving her lips.

She was glad it was time to go home after a draining morning. The harsh December wind brushed against her flushed cheek, wiping a few strands over her eyes which she quickly tucked away only to abruptly stop in her tracks. Her shoulders fell, only now noticing how tense they'd been all this time.

There he was - her favourite worst menace, casually leaning against a black car.

One hand shoved into the pocket of his dark coat while the other was pushing back the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose which he had on despite the cloudiness. Ignoring the wind tousling his slightly trimmed waves. Evoking a small laugh from her.

Of course she knew it was a lazy attempt to cover himself, but it'd never work for her. He looked too cool and airy, too effortlessly attractive for her not to recognise him.

And her heart swelled with the sight of him after several weeks again.

Taehyung was absentmindedly resting his eyes at nothing in particular when his gaze instinctively wandered to her. Heart-shaped lips curling upwards into a beaming smile when spotting her and he was about to call out for her, when he paused instead when noticing her gloomy expression. A frown replaced his smile.

Cassandra's jaw unintentionally started trembling.

She couldn't contain it anymore, she had to let it go. She'd planned to do so when arriving home, but seeing him there now made everything from the day along with the fact she'd missed him, raise to the surface. but it was also how he always showed up when she needed him the most. As if he knew, by intuition.

And before she realised, she was sprinting towards him, crashing into his arms and embracing him tightly.

The brunette froze for a moment before his hands curved around his girlfriend's smaller frame. Cradling her against himself. His fingers brushed a few coppery strands from her face then, urging her to look at him by holding her cheek with one hand.

"Cas, what happened?"

Cassandra didn't say anything, though. Her glistering eyes looking up at his warm ones before she wordlessly kissed him.

The fact he made sure to visit her before she left, warming her inside. Making her forget the depressing day at work for a moment.

It was a gentle press of her lips, taking him aback at the unexpected gesture. But he didn't move or backed away, he simply closed his eyes and reciprocated it. Having missed the warmth of her more than anything. And he hugged her closer to him with the arm that was still wrapped around her waist. His hand moving from her jaw to the back of her neck.

The kiss merely lasted seconds before her heels return to the ground. A weak smile grazing her face as their noses brushed and she sniffled. Her head returning to his chest then, right above his heart.

"I love you."

It slipped past her lips so naturally, so easily. He almost failed to hear it the way she so casually said it. As if she commented on the cloudy weather or that she preferred chocolate over gummibears. But he heard it after all and swallowed. His heart contracting in a strange way and he could swear a beat was skipped, completely missing.

Taehyung was her happiness and strength and the sole reason she hadn't lost her mind at the hospital yet. The only person whose weirdness was compatible with hers, really. And she had to admit, the only time she was truly carefree and at peace was when he was holding her. A terrifying realisation. Especially since she didn't want to know the alternative.

With a light giggle Cassandra stepped back and let go of him, the only evidence of her blue mood moments ago being the drying tears now. "Sorry, that was random. Let's go," she said then, readjusting her backpack. Attempting to walk to the passenger seat when Taehyung grabbed her arm and pulled her right back into another kiss.

She had the guts, he thought, she really had the guts to say it first.

"Idiot," he muttered against her lips then, a chuckle erupting from his throat, "You think I'd risk getting caught every time if I didn't love you, too?"

Cassandra pouted with a nothing but teasing shrug. "I don't know.. You could have multiple girls all over the world."

Taehyung's brow perched up at this with disbelief. "You really think that of me?"

"You really think I'd be with you if I believed you were such a guy?" she huffed, "Of course not, I trust you."

His lips curled into a boyish smile. "Good. 'Cause I only want you, no one else." He patted her flushed cheeks with the sleeve of his coat then, drying them before speaking up with sudden glee. " Anyway! It's almost Christmas and I extra came all the way here to celebrate with my girlfriend. So let's celebrate!"

Cassandra looked at him suspiciously. "And what did you plan?"

"Don't worry, you'll like it."

"As long as I get some sweets.. been really craving some chocolate," she grinned. Already certain she'd love whatever it was anyway. The mere fact he was there was already enough to lift her mood for the entire month.

He arched a brow at her then. "Of course you'll also get your obligatory holiday sweets. Are you doubting me?"

And he laughed when seeing Cassandra's large eyes gleaming at the mention of desserts.

»»»

The shrill scoring sound echoed above them when the white puck slid passed his hand and into the hole. Cassandra immediately leaped up, almost bumping at a girl playing at the table behind her. Face beaming with joy at the display announcing her victory with 10 - 7.

Taehyung's brows rose, his head tilting while still processing what had just happened. "Huh," he huffed eventually, licking over his lips then. He had to admit defeat.

Cassandra grinned victoriously as she propped her hands on the airhockey table and leaned forward. "Say it."

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled lightly. "Fine, fine. You're the arcade champion."

Content, she nodded to herself and folded her arms. "Music to my ears."

They had spent the last two hours trying out almost all games around the arcade, competing in most of them - just for fun of course, although both tended to occasionally forget about that part. And they were sore losers, too, Cassandra more than Taehyung though. And with her total of five wins against his four, airhockey having been the tie breaker, she gloried her win. All for fun, of course.

"Don't tell me some relative of yours is also an arcade genius now," Taehyung whined. He was only teasing but was surprised to see her folding her lips in a mischievious manner.

"Not in all games, but my aunt was an expert in Pacman and other videogames if that counts."

"Of course," he laughed under his breath, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and walking her to one of the empty tables.

Truth was, he'd purposely gone easy on her. Not only because of her becoming whiny and pouty when losing - an adorably childish sight - but it also served another reason. At least, that's what his ego reminded him of.

"Anyway, since you're the winner, you should get a prize, right?"

Cassandra's eyes widened at his excited smile. Watching him pulling out a small box wrapped in fancy paper from the inside pocket of his coat that was hanging over one of the chairs.

She perked up at this. "A prize?"

"Technically your Christmas gift, but I figured it'd fit as a prize, too."

He laughed at her eagerly grabbing it out of his hand after sitting down. He had originally planned to hand it over while avowing his love to her, but she'd preempted him there at the parking lot. So he decided to give it to her as her prize after beating him at the arcades.

Unwrapping it, her brown eyes laid on a golden heart pedant, shining under the colourful blinking lights from the games around them. And the corners of her lips tucked into a soft smile.

"It's beautiful," she glanced up at him, "Thank you."

He motioned with his chin towards it. "Open it."

Her eyes frowned briefly, not having realised it was actually a locket and she obeyed. Bursting out laughing the moment she did, though, finding nothing else but a silly photo of him inside. Of course.

"You can swap the photo if you want."

But Cassandra only shook her head. "Nah, it's perfect." And she leaned over, pecking his cheek tenderly. "Thank you."

"You like it?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck and she wondered where that insecurity came from.

"Yes, of course," she smiled brightly and reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it. Taehyung smiled shyly back. Taking it from her hands then, he motioned for her to turn around and she did. Feeling his fingers brush her hair aside before putting the necklace around her neck. And she touched it briefly before facing him with a smile and another kiss on his cheek.

She genuinely loved it along with the photo inside. Even if she was usually going for silver jewelery, she found it beautiful and could tell it was of value save for the emotional one. She wasn't an expert, but it must've been pure gold, which made her a bit nervous when thinking about wearing it in her daily life. On the other hand though, whenever she felt dull at work, she could take a look at it and instantly get a serotonin boost.

They finished their drinks, which had been forgotten while playing and decided to leave. Stepping outside into the now dusken streets.

"So where to now?" Cassandra asked. Voice muffled underneath her thick scarf. They climbed into the car and she shivered from the sudden warmth when the heating started.

"I promised you sweets, didn't I?"

He chuckled when seeing her nodding vigorously.

»»»

"How much longer?"

"Just be patient. I know I have it here somewhere."

Taehyung took a sip from his red wine before laying down onto the fluffy carpet. His fingers folded under his head as he let his gaze wander over the ceiling coloured in a yellowish hue from the lamp in the corner.

He got tired of waiting as Cassandra was rummaging through her wardrobe and cabinets in search for his present. She couldn't remember where she'd stored it, not knowing when she's see him again.

"It's alright if you can't find it, you don't need to give me anything," he said in between of yawning. Hearing a faint scoff from the other room.

"Of course I need to! It's not only Christmas but also your birthday soon. Don't be ridiculous."

"But I'm bored," he whined, "Just come here and give it to me some other time."

"Don't make me regret confessing to you." He heard her laugh.

"You won't," he countered with a smug grin lazily spreading onto his features, "You love me after all."

And she only rolled her eyes, shaking her head in defeat before concentrating on looking for the small box when something caught her eye. "Found it!" she exclaimed happily and appeared seconds later above him with an object decorated by a green bow.

Curiously, he sat up and reached out for it. She sat down cross-legged in front of him. Nervously, she took a sip from her own wine as she watched him. His brows furrowed when unwrapping it. Seemingly not understanding what it was, he gave her an inquiring look and she sighed.

"It's a mini portable projector," she explained then, "Thought this would be the perfect gift for a film-lover on the run like you. You could always carry it around and use it wherever."

"Are you kidding?" His brows rose and he glanced down at the box in his hands.

Cassandra grew more and more fidgety at this. "If you don't like it I can return it. Not sure if I still have the re-"

However, Taehyung quickly cut her rambling off with a kiss. His smile bright and square. "It's perfect, Cas. I didn't even know such things existed. Thank you."

She couldn't help but bite back a relieved smile. "We could test it out right now," she suggested then. But Taehyung only smiled and tucked a curl behind her ear before leaning in.

"Maybe later."

 And he pulled her into his embrace, kissing her all over again.

»»»

"By the way, when will you tell me why you got so emotional earlier?" Taehyung wondered into the silence. It was late, past midnight for sure. The film they had settled on, 'How to steal a million', had ended some time ago.

He glanced down at her with a scowl. Observing her eyes fluttering open. His hand slid up and down over her warm skin as he waited for her to muster her courage.

Sometimes Cassandra was worse than him with being withdrawn and keeping her sorrows to herself.

With a sigh, her fingers fumbled with the bedsheet covering them. "It wasn't anything special," she mumbled then, causing him to roll his eyes.

"You know, if I am more vocal with my feelings, you gotta be more vocal with your concerns, too. It'd only be fair, don't you think?"

She peeked at him, lips folding in embarrassment. He was right, he was her boyfriend after all, he should know.

"Maybe I'm in the wrong profession after all.." she eventually spoke up then, dragging an exhale. Her hand had abandoned the sheet, lying flat on his bare chest now. "I still let things get too close to me."

And Taehyung realised it must've been about a patient. She couldn't tell him details, he knew so he didn't ask for any. "Isn't that good though?" he countered instead, "You aren't emotionally numb."

"It can be.." She propping her chin on his chest, eyes focusing on the small tiger pedant that had slid from his neck. Toying with it as she collected her thoughts. "But it can make me lose objectivity when I like or care for a patient too much. At the end of he day, I have to treat them the best way possible and that's not always pleasant."

He hummed, not entirely sure if he related to her dilemma. "Better to care too much than not caring at all. That's what I think at least."

She let out a noise of agreement although not seeming very convinced. And he gave her a worried look as he caressed her head before his arms wrapped around her lower back. It hadn't been the first time he'd seen her like that after all.

"If this profession causes you so much sorrow, why don't you quit?"

She shrugged, eyes still fixated on the tiger. "I don't know.. Why are you a thief despite having to constantly run away from interpol?"

It was a rhetorical question. He understood what her point was.

It wasn't always logical, it wasn't always pleasant, but that what having a passion was like. An inner force that constantly drove you, unable not to follow it whether it made you suffer or brought you joy.

He had to be a thief and partake in heists with his friends. It was the only thing he knew and was good at. Of course, he was certain that wouldn't last forever the older they got. For the time being, however, that was his inner pulse. Until it changed and something else replaced it.

His gaze rested on Cassandra who was seemingly absorbed in thoughts when she abruptly sat up in his lap. "But it's alright. I'm over that slump by now anyway."

He eyed her suspicious. "Are you sure?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, don't worry. Beating you at the arcades and eating cake managed lifting my mood again," she giggled, and he scoffed only to tickle her sides. Making her squeal and pushing his hands away.

She leaned over him to reach the nightstand then, suddenly feeling the urge to eat some of the left-over of the cake they had bought in the afternoon.

Christmas was only a few days away but thankfully, bakeries and patisseries still had enough of the taditional tronco de navidad in stock. A thin cake spread with cream and rolled into a cylindrical shape to form a tree trunk, covered with a thick layer of chocolate.

"Gotta remember that place, it's really good," she mumbled with her mouth being half-stuffed. She was munching on the cake and seemingly saviouring every bit of it with eyes closed as she sat there on his lap.

His thumb wiped away brown cream from the corner of her mouth, his hands settling back on her hips then with a fond smile. Skin warm and soft under his fingers, holding her there between his palms. His irises fell on he heart-pedant that swayed on her colarbones with every bite she took, peeking between her cascading curls.

He really loved her. He was utterly and hopelessly in love with that beautiful girl. And he was glad seeing her so cheerful and carefree again compared to hours ago, this look suiting her the best. Sunlight burst into the room whenever she smiled like this, no matter the time of day.

Cassandra's happy humming interrupted his train of thoughts.

"You can change the photo inside if you want." His mellow voice took her attention away from her cake and she followed his gaze to her new necklace. She swallowed the dessert.

"I know, you already said that. But I don't wanna."

She liked the photo of him inside the locket. He looked cuddly and cute on it.

Taehyung only huffed and she almost cooed, finding his random shyness adorable. "Isn't it corny though?"

"A little bit, but I don't mind," she shrugged, before adding with a smirk, "Unless you stole the necklace and are now afraid of leaving evidence."

Her tone was obviously teasing and he squeezed her hips. "Please, what do you think of me?" he fake-pouted. "I'd never give you stolen goods."

Of course he had paid the full price. Cassandra was worth every price after all. Furthermore, he could never bring himself to give her something stolen, it'd be insincere. Gifts were meant to deliver his feelings to her - giving her stolen goods wouldn't make sense.

Cassandra smiled gently at this and bent down. Kissing his pout away with her chocolate-tasting lips.

»»»

next chapter: 1.1 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

[sunny-sourzii]

*crashes into the ask box again*

Ow- damn, can we get a ball-pit down here? I have a new found sympathy for Helpie…anyway!

HEYOOOOOOO

Just popping in to say I love your art, it brings this goober much joy and it’s genuinely inspiring to see someone my age making such amazing content 😌 proof that you don’t have to be an adult to make great things happen! Anywhooo…thank you for your time, keep yourself safe, and have a great day :D

-A Goofy Ghoster

*fades back into the abyss*

YaYAYAYAAA THANK YOU!!

You really don't have to be an adult to be cool because look at me /lh

I really love making whimsical art. This world needs more whimsical and joyous things

(Sorry I got distracted and saw this gif that reminded me of the daycare 😭)

[nebylitsa]

Prayer is a practice, a spiritual practice. The objective of prayer practice is to increase one’s awareness of God, to use tradition language. The medieval teacher Rambam (Maimonides) explained that in prayer, we pour out our hearts like water before the Holy One of Blessing. Not only when we are in pain or in need. He recommends that we pour out our hearts every day, even when there is nothing bothering us.

In English, the word “pray” connotes asking for something—praying for good health, for example, or praying to win the lottery. While there are certainly petitionary prayers in our prayer books, most of our great teachers did not encourage the expectation that if you pray for something, you will be given what you are praying for.

Hasidic teachers like the Slonimer Rebbe teach instead that in matters of the spirit, all of our prayers are answered immediately if we offer them sincerely, with an open heart. “Please help me to be better at loving and receiving love that is offered to me.” “Please help me to heal from my psychic wounds that I have been carrying all these years.” “Please help me to become patient and compassionate.” If we open up our hearts, the Slonimer Rebbe teaches, our prayers will be effective.

Many of us, however, can’t imagine praying because we don’t believe in a God to whom we can direct our prayers. The good news is that lack of belief in God is not such an obstacle to developing a prayer practice.

The Bratslaver Hasidim have a practice called Hitbodedut. You walk out in the field and you talk to…God? The Universe? The Ground of Being? The Void? You talk as if there is someone listening. “I’m really stuck in my job. I need to get up the courage to change. I need help.” “My life partner and I aren’t communicating anymore. We’re like strangers sharing a house.” “I’m still angry at my father, and he’s been dead for years. I need to try to let go. I don’t know how.” “I’m so overcommitted. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the week.”

This is pouring your heart out. You dig a bit and notice what you are feeling and you offer it up. Not because you believe anyone is listening. But because when you pour out your heart, all that stuff is no longer tied up tight and pressing against your chest from within. And when you let it go, you are no longer all alone in your predicament. You are reaching out to the world around you.

So if you find yourself in synagogue not know what to do, don’t worry about finding the place in your prayer book. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply a few times. Get in touch with what you are feeling. Reflect on what you need help with, what you can’t cope with all by yourself. Ask for what you need to make yourself more at ease, more at peace, more joyous. Ask whether or not you know whom you are asking.

Pour out your heart like water. Take a prayerful leap, and see what happens.

-- Rabbi Jacob Staub

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxxxviii - 2 month mark

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

You hate to admit to your uncle but you love your job to bits. It's not like he had to twist your arm for you to accept the job anyways but you hated to admit that you kind of resent not working at the academy when he first offered you the position a couple years back. Every day you only experience good stuff and despite the work stress and pressure, there would always be something to make up for it. And surprisingly, it's not always your friends.

It was easy to fall into the rhythm but it was even easier to find the joy in the work. Compared to working corporate pharnaceutical, the academy was heaven. You didn't realize that the work load could be so diverse, one day you're working in your office, the next you're pitching classes to talent agencies and entertainment companies, then somehow you find yourself meeting actual professional dancers who are friends with the current trainers and even meeting trainees who are set to debut in a year or less. Sure, it might be because of your role and rank but it's still fun and amazing nevertheless. The students were awesome as well and while you didn't get the chance to know them personally, you love seeing how happy they are after class, simply enjoying youth.

From time to time, whenever you passed classes or students inside and outside the academy, you'd get reminded of your own youth. Particularly how hou spent the most important time of your life with San.

It had been a while since you talked to him and while you were glad that San seemed to be getting on with his life so easily, not even bothering to contact you again. Sure, you told him that you both needed time apart, but to completely cut you off after what he said? That's rich. You expected a bit of a struggle, him texting you fir at least the next several days and you having the joyous experience of leaving him on read. But of course, fate has been nothing but the equivalent of testicular torture on your emotion and soul.

With the slight (humongous) bitterness you were feeling, you could only hope that the package Seonghwa mentioned could cheer you up tremendously. Maybe one of your recent business acquaintances sucking up on you to get better deals, or maybe one of your friends playing dumb and later on would surprise you. So many possibilities and even the thought made you giddy.

Then a knock came to your door before the sound of it being pulled open and your heart began racing.

"I can see why you didn't hesitate to come work in your uncle's academy,"

Then your heart dropped to your stomach and your head snapped up so quick you could've sworn you heard a record scratch from inside your brain. Your body shot straight up and you stepped away from your desk when you realized who was standing just in your doorway.

San stood with the gentlest smile on his face and a bouquet in his hands, very reminiscent to the San you dated in high school specifically from your graduation day. Years passed and pressure building but that smile never changed.

Still, you were surprised to see him there, you might even thought that he was an illusion. So you did the first thing you can think of.

It was fortunate for San (and unfortunate for your petty side) that he has great reflex. Because just in the nick of time, San managed to dodge the mug filled with hot coffee that shattered upon impact on the wall behind him. It wasn't like you were trying to hurt him (that way), you just wanted to make sure you hadn't gone crazy.

For a moment, both of you could only stared at each other in disbelief; you not believing your own eyes, and San thinking that he may had almost lost brain function merely seconds ago. It was a miracle that San still had his grip on the flowers although he was afraid that the harsh grip might've crushed the stems. Just like how you almost crushed his skull. Not even the commotion of people peeking in to see what was going on and the sound of Hongjoong loudly asking what was going on and later on muffled and dragged away by who you can only assume is Jongho.

"What are you doing here?" You managed out.

Hearing your voice again made the tips of San's fingers tingle and ears burn slightly. It had been too long since he was able to clearly hear your voice without any animosity between you two. He was both glad and anxious to see you, but he was more terrified over the fact that his resolve falters quick just from being in the same room as you. But he couldn't give up just yet, he had a mission to accomplish and he was not about to let himself down. Again.

"I..." San stepped forward, warily looking at you in case you decide to throw something at him again. But when he realized that you were not tensed, he stood straighter and his shoulders relaxed. He carefully approached your desk and placed the bouquet of flowers on it gently. "I just wanted to see you to give you this, I... Haven't gotten the chance to congratulate you on your new job," he smiled. Your eyes automatically fell onto the flowers and you couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of purple hyacinths with leaves and white daisies peeking in and five white roses framing the bouquet like a border. Looking back into his eyes, you acted as if you were indiferent, "Oh yeah, thanks. I't's been... Two months already? So you're kinda late." Though the word 'late' stung, San did agree that his congratulatory expression was rather overdue. But he shrugged his shoulders, confident in himself and action, "Better late than never, right?" He wasn't hoping much, but he didn't expect you to look so guarded with him. Of course, for obvious reasons that he himself had personally provided in the past. "Really San, we haven't talked in a month and a half so why are you suddenly dropping into my office?" You crossed your arms at him.

It was now or never for San.

"(y/n), I've changed," he stated. You didn't say anything but you raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue wordlessly. "The last time we spoke... You were right, I was merely the shell of a man that I was before which was ironic since the 'man' you meant was a post pubescent teenager. I... Guess I didn't want to admit that I can actually get better because I was so used to in a state where my action and behaviour were easily excusable as hormonal imbalance, God knows how many people I need to apologize to and that's why I'm starting with you, the first person I ever hurt unintentionally, the person I swore would never hurt but in recent times, I've done nothing but. That's why... After our last chat, I started therapu and the moment I felt something was wrong, I slowly got myself back on meds. You were right, I wasn't in the right state of mind and it never occurred to me that before this, I've only been receiving help not because I wanted to but it's because people expected me too. I was so busy doing what people expect me to that I didn't even care that I was becoming such a mess which ended up burdening people more. I'm done living for other people, I'm done fixing myself for other people, (y/n). I want to start going after what I want." Your breath hitched at the mention of him hurting you and everything else. His words alone was enough to make you clutch on your own arms. It wasn't like you were desperately holding onto the fact that San had hurt you back then and several more times after that and even almost to the point of killing you. Again. But you have let go of the pain and though not completely, you didn't even think about it much anymore. Heck, you had managed to overcome the trauma and turn it into a lesson learnt through self-reflection. You had taken steps to grow in the past month and a half but you hadn't considered that San may have as well. But has he really?

With a your eyebrows scrunching in a frown of scrutiny, your hands dropped from your front to your sides, "What are you trying to say, San?"

Much to your surprise, San reached into his pocket and produced a box that you immediately recognized was from Tiffany and Co. He placed it on your desk, next to the flowers and before he could even say anything, the shock took over you and you rushed to smack San upside the head, producing a loud "OW" and a whine from him. Before he could recover, you rushed to close your office door before rushing back to glare at him. "That better not be what I think it is," you warned, glaring harshly at the puppy who has his bottom lip jutted out while rubbing at the impacted spot. "San, what were you thinking bringing that here!?" "Relax! It's an engagement ring, not a bomb!" He defended. Your eyes widened as large as it could go and your hand smacked his shoulder harshly, making him yelp again. "You idiot! I thought it was a promise ring or a damn bribe necklace! What were you thinking!" To say that you were dumbfounded was an understatement because you were... Bewildered, astounded, confused, and other big sounding words that just means "what in the actual fuck?". Still pouting, San slumped to the seat on the seat across your work chair and sighed, "I... I wanted to give you the option of coming back to me. Obviously, I don't want to force you to make a choice this big right now, but I just want to know where I'm committing to you. I've always wanted you to be the end game of my romance life and I still do. I didn't mean it as a way to pressure or burden you or something, (y/n), I'm stupid, not crazy," you couldn't help but crack a smile at his dumb self-depreciating joke that he took notice of. "Clearly, I took things the wrong way when my therapist said 'you need to start thinking of yourself for yourself'," San dejectedly said.

You could see that he was dejected, disappointed in himself and it helped pushing the wave of anger slightly away. With a long exhale, you leaned on your desk and tilted your head slightly to take in how San looked. Here, you have in your office that is much shabbier than his, a big time CEO whom people fear and respect, bowing his head in shame and regret like a child who just got caught stealing a cookie before dinner. This San is far closer to the old San that you loved, the San that you dated and was able to share everything with and it was like your high school self came back, reminding you that despite everything, his shortcomings are stemmed from the fact that there is a child inside him that wasn't being tended to.

Frequently, you question your decision and motives, but as you pulled San's head to your stomach and began rubbing his back, you didn't find the need to ask why you even did that. You did that because he looked like he needed it. It wasn't immediate, but San slowly inched forward to wrap his arms around your knees, closing his eyes to calm himself down. "I don't know why I keep messing up, (y/n). I just don't want to burden anyone anymore," he confessed, sounding very sincere. You chuckled and shook your head at his admission, "That's your problem San, you did everything right but one. You're taking on this journey alone when you should've relied on the people around you. You have four stupidly loyal friends, an older sister who'd risk her career for you, and parents who love you to bits but you still think you are all alone. You're still not able to differentiate between burdening and shouldering each other's burdens because... You were not wired that way. You were wired for seclusion and independence and while that turned you into a very successful businessman, it also turned you into the most coddled loner in this world." You pulled away slightly which prompted San to do the same to look up at you. "As much as I hate to admit, you're on the right track of becoming better and I commend that. But knowing your record, you need to start filling people in on your plans because not even I can justify you coming here hot on your heels with a damn proposal," the both of you couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Try harder, do better, okay?"

San shook his head in disbelief, not quite comprehending how he came in to show you how much he has changed, how much improvements he has made, only for you to swoop in and save him once again. He trully was like a puppy at your feet, he need to admit that to his therapist who had been telling him that all along.

"I don't know what I would do without you, (y/n)," you rolled your eyes and smirked at him, agreeing to the notion, "If you'd allow me, I'll do whatever you want to start making up for the past six years even if it takes me six decades. I know you wanted space and I have tried to give it to you, but let's face it, there are forces here that made sure that we kept going back to each other." As much as you'd like to contradict him, you have to agree that it was ridiculous how you both kept going back to each other. The first couple times could probably be blamed on both of your stupidity, but the times after that... Truly idiopathic. "I hate that you're making a point. Stop it," you joked which cracked a smile on San's face.

"Because of that... I actually have a plan on meeting someone, a relative my sister talked about who might give me a fresh idea of what's going on. Since you know my history and even have been part of some of the most crucial parts, do you think you can come accompany me? Help give your brutal honest opinion and rendition of what happened and what you think happened to me?"

You should've wanted to say no. You should've told him that you don't want to be part of his decision making until he can make his own damn sound decisions without involving you. But you yourself were curious about what exactly was going on and it wouldn't hurt getting some answer for your own sake. Helping yourself while helping others.

"I can't promise I'll hold your hand, but you can expect me detailing all your questionable lude choices and action."

And though you were being sarcastic, San could tell you were being honest and you were setting a boundary for yourself. And he was glad you did.

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[englishstrawbie]

Station 19 7x03

I've been holding off sharing my thoughts on the new season as we transition from 'writing for 10 episodes' to ‘writing for 10 final episodes'. Let's face it, 7x02 threw a lot at us. Too much, I would say. I get that they're navigating the cancellation, but they're setting up too many storylines and not giving themselves enough time to actually tell them.

I think it's obvious that Marina's storyline is suffering. A new baby, a new house, Carina's lawsuit, Maya's brother. And ok, I knew I wouldn't be as engaged with the baby storyline as most, but jeez... give me something. As an ensemble show, we'll never get to see everything we want to see but, right now, it feels like they're not even giving us what we need to see. Decisions are made and storylines move forwards without showing us the conversations behind them. Right now it's just a bunch of scenes glued together.

This week's episode gave us some of my favourite moments so far, mostly the Carina and Bailey scenes. Flustered Carina, Bailey and Ben gifting them some of their baby stuff, Carina's joyous love for her new son, Bailey putting Carina to bed and scolding her when she comes back to find Carina on her tablet, helping her see that she didn't do anything wrong and explaining why the mom might be suing her anyway. I absolutely love the way their friendship has evolved over time.

Then there was Maya thinking about how she is going to navigate her job, with Carina and Liam at home. And Maya going home to her family at the end of the day because they were what she needed after such a horrible day. 🥰

I'm gutted about Mason. I've been championing his return for years, but not like this! I was glad to see Maya tell everyone at the beanery table, it's something she could easily have tried to hide out of embarassment. I get the feeling that Mason will be part of Maya's big story in episode 7 (I think?) and I'm curious to know how that is going to play out.

I loved the Maya and Andy moments. I'm glad Eli told Travis some home truths, it was about time - I hope he heals after this. Oh, and Pru in the line up at the station and Andy calling her Little Miller. 🥹

But then these lovely moments are overshadowed (in the Marina fandom particularly) by the frustration that, for the first time in seven years, we have a Pride episode that omits Marina from the storyline - the show's biggest, longest lasting and most popular queer ship. And the Pride stuff wasn't great, let's face it. But it's all about balance. Yes, these moments were good and important, but they didn't need to happen in an episode about Pride. I totally understand the frustration of fans wanting to see a queer family they love and are losing soon be happy and celebrated in this episode, and feeling let down when it didn't happen.

[batsplat]

no no you actually must enjoy sete’s suffering at least a little bit while watching the 2005 season. that’s what this rivalry is all about! it’s so so absurd with the whole curse stuff, tragic and pretty bleak (for sete I mean), hilarious, malicious etc. like when you watching any of those races and commentators mention the curse and how wouldn’t it be nice for sete to win here but you know something they don’t! he’s literally never gonna win again guys ha! so you wait for something to happen right (almost gleefully at times) and then it does you’re like “well fuck:((“

the caveat here is that you must also actually rate sete too!

- your resident sete anon

no literally, not only is valentino being awful - he's also making you the viewer complicit in the torment of this poor man by making you laugh while watching it. every time the commentators say one of those 'will THIS be the time' 'perhaps the most important race of gibernau's career!!' 'oh how much he'd want to win this' 'in the next n laps we will discover what gibernau is made of' lines, of course you laugh because it's just. well. funny. and then you see another sete misfortune and the commentator says something like 'rossi will surely be grinning under his helmet' and then YOU are grinning at it, which oh my god the moral decay of it all. I'm hardly a stranger to being a hater in sports, but I'm really not a sete hater!! clearly!! which means I'm watching these replays where one of the main kicks is knowing this one man is going to suffer and having a great time with it and it's just?? a bit of a unique experience given I don't even hate this guy?? so. yeah. cheers valentino

the 'he really won't win ANY of these' bit is really the key because the cruelty of it kinda?? gradually sneaks up on you?? the theory of 'never winning a race again' starts as a fun fact - but it's really the cumulative effect that gets to you. the suspense is in watching how it'll go wrong this time. what will it be here!! .... ah. oh no :( look at him sink to his knees in despair :( onto the next one!! it's like being told at the outset you're watching a tragedy, but you watch it anyway... and once you really start clocking just how MANY of these things he could've won, how the pressure must have been building and building, how trapped he was in this truly absurd hellscape, how he was TELLING HIS FANS he would win one of these 2005 races and you just know he won't!! the horror of it all just hits you in the face. it's so bleak! what a beautifully miserable little story! it's also so funny terrible because the commentators are waiting for a narrative that won't ever actually come to pass. they think that sete will get Revenge, they think he will have the triumphant comeback, they're constantly hyping up how this is the race where sete will finally show valentino he's no pushover... it's almost like everyone is stuck in the wrong genre lol. and you can track how they finally cotton on in real time. sete will never be allowed his happy ending

and what really rams home the tonal whiplash is how joyous valentino is being!! the thing about valentino is that he isn't typically outwardly spiteful in victory, though jerez 2005 is perhaps as close as he ever gets. sure, in context a lot of his celebrations clearly are filled with spite, he is obviously a deeply malicious character, but you don't immediately see that when you're watching him!! I regularly see photos of his phillip island 2004 championship celebrations passed around on various social media sites because everyone loves those, first yamaha title, 'che spettacolo' is such a vibe, he's grinning so much, clearly having a blast... but the moment you reinsert context, you do remember how evil that whole thing was!! how much sheer concentrated malice poured into that performance and the weeks that preceded it. two risky last lap passes because he just couldn't stomach the idea of letting sete have shit on his big day. This Is The Face Of A Monster

look at him :) dickhead

like, 2003-05 really is just. the perfect arc isn't it. by 2005 the wall between the joy and the malice has completely collapsed and you're just seeing him having the time of his life while psychologically torturing his rival. and you know there's no way he'd rather win. and it's compelling! and it's fun to watch! and it is also. kinda sketch. ffs

[hwaightme]

Wilting to bloom

🍃 pairing: soldier!san x reader (told in first person) 🍃 genre: angst, a smidgen of fluff, warrior/royalty, battle 🍃 summary: we were meant to remain in the meadows, living under the sun and blessed by joyous unity. no eyes were made to witness what you had seen, san. these letters and dreams are a recollection of all that is to never be, and all that we have to bear. 🍃 wordcount: 5.0k 🍃 warnings/tags: nightmares, discussion of trauma, side character death, waiting for san to come back, cottagecore, military, ptsd/trauma, paralysis, told through the eyes of mc ('you' is an address to san), a dog, hoping for a better life, nothing will be the same. let me know if anything else. 🍃 taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 🍃 a/n: a chaotic experiment, bear with me; much love <3

Wearing the purest white, chasing the freedom of being young. Hot summer rays kissing bare skin, the wind cheering us on until we collapse on the ground with breathless, airy laughter. Hiding among the lilac, lavender, and black locust. Those carefree days. Nobody thought that this could ever change. Our life was that of a mayfly’s, existing entirely in the present – the reason for our happiness. We lived in blissful stagnancy, with our guardian angels watching over us, hand in hand, from the heavens above. We were free in the groves, free to do whatever we wanted.

The clover and chamomile crowns we would make for one another – yours were always much better than mine. Sorry I could never give you something you truly deserved. But you smiled anyways and took my collection of withering leaves and put it on your head with pride, dirtying the perfect locks that turned to rich chestnut and mahogany hues in the sun. Pollen would stick to your tousled strands, and yet, you would wave off my hands, saying that this was a blessing of nature. I did not argue. You managed to make the floral grains take on the appearance of magical fairy dust, or glistening gold. We went out during daybreak into the meadows to pick the marvellous beauties – second compared to you, but nevertheless wonderful.

You brought me flowers – whichever were in season. By the bouquet on my windowsill, I could tell what time of the year it was. You were my messenger, my sun and moon. You knew how to make me blush and how to tease me painlessly, peppering kisses in a playful apology after a joke that would make me tear up from laughter. You learnt how to braid hair, just so you could tame my unruly curls on the days when the air hung low and stuck to the skin. A simple braid had turned into gorgeous designs, ones which I had never seen on any other lady, even on those aristocratic dames that had taken to visiting our lovely part of the kingdom.

Whenever I went out into the world, the market mainly, with your gentle touch having moulded me into what you called a goddess, it was a reminder that you were unparalleled – the girls would give me long side glances, obviously trying to spot a mistake, cursing me over and over. Little did they know, you, and everything you do, defined faultlessness. You have marvellous hands – not too delicate, not too rough. Just right. Those hands still linger on my skin in the echoes of caresses, yet another reminder of your irreplaceable presence. A man’s marvellous hands, your hands, which I could rely on holding me up to greatness. I wonder how they are now and if you are managing out there. Those hands were never meant for bloodshed and violence.

‘A musician’s fingers’ – that is how they are called; I found out recently. It is a shame that I could never put it into words for you then, so you just laughed whenever you caught me admiring them. You brushed me off, saying ‘they are just hands’ and continued doing what you were doing. Sometimes, your fingers would intertwine with mine and we would amble in the verdant grass together and collect gifts of the earth. Walking at the same pace, side by side. We were one another’s world. At least, you were definitely mine. You still are. The moment I wake up, right up until I fall back into a restless slumber, you greet me in my memories, with that gorgeous smile of yours. Do you still gleam like that, my love?

I have a particular scene ingrained in my mind, moment for moment. How we sat together watching the sunset, tired but still elated after ambling across the endless expanse of fields for far too long. How you glanced over at me and grinned wide. I was stunned then. What had I done to deserve to have such an angel beside me? Your features – a divine perfection, accompanied by wit and charms unlike anybody else’s. If only I could eternally live in that evening when we whispered sweet nothings to one another with our berry-stained lips, embraced by the corals, pinks and dusty ultramarines of the sky. The present would not be so terrifying if I had the ability to go back with you, to that small fragment of heaven.

How are you out there? My apologies for getting so sentimental – it seems that I cannot control myself when it comes to this… I miss you terribly. If only you could come home this instant. We could check on the honeysuckle in your mother’s garden – she gave me some to plant in mine! Just you wait, we will have the best garden in the village! Come home soon, I will have your favourite dinner ready, and we can chat about anything except the world out there, and laugh, and love.

Get back safe, San.

You came to me in my dream last night. It was so real that I could almost feel the breeze and taste the pungent odour of ripe fruit coming from the orchard. It was the middle of the night, and I was resting, embraced by rolling waves of linen. You had knocked on my window. Gave me quite a fright, you know!? The moon that enveloped your form and climbed into my room with its ashen rays had made your complexion pallid, washed out, ghostly, rendering me terrified and unknowing of who had awoken me from my slumber. A part of me had expected it to be father – you know how he is - a skilled carpenter, loves to work into the night, cutting and shaving away.

With one pull of the curtains, the white light had turned into a halo, and your skin had been covered by a silvery sheen. You beckoned me, and despite my initial hesitations I went with my calling, and in my nightgown, carefully opened the window and slid out. My family home only has one floor, however you were protective of my and were prepared to catch me as if I was about to perform a death-defying stunt, jumping from a cloud straight into your arms.

Not too far from the truth. That was what falling for you felt like. Though the best, unforgettable element was that you were there for me, reciprocating what had been building in my heart for so long. I only realised it when the beating got so loud and strong that it was about to burst. You told me you had loved me from the very beginning and had already sacrificed yourself to being by my side regardless of whether I returned your adoration or not. You were not afraid of any legends of unrequited love – nothing would turn your ribcage into a garden of flowers, for you had told yourself to live on, if not for yourself, then for me.  Are you still living for me? Are you still out there, blood coursing through your veins reciting the vows we had made to one another under the moon?

A memory turned mantra had come forth to me in that dream. Of that night. How we were sat on our favourite hillside, overlooking the meandering river turned moon path, the world holding its breath for us. We promised to one another to be there until time itself would give the universe up to us. A destiny unbreakable by reality. We had tied all our strings of fate together, with you braiding them into an unbreakable union. Or so we thought. For the time being, you are not here. We cannot repeat that moment like we had done every anniversary. I had spent the third one without you sleepless – a wolf soundlessly howling at the glowing orb in the sky with a pitiful expression on my face. You would most certainly have poked me in the cheek and told me off for being so down.

Is the moon the same where you are? Did you think of me? Did you rest underneath the blanket of spectacular constellations, drawing lines between stars, your inhale and exhale being the only thing audible for miles? The nights are getting cooler now, I hope you wrapped up warmer. You had that one trench coat, remember? The hand-me-down from one of your friends who… oh, never mind that. It is not relevant. Didn’t you take it with you? Yes, yes you did! I can see your silhouette drifting away into the distance, becoming a dot in the horizon. You had that trench coat on. It suits you so well. Better not go around stealing the hearts of naïve young ladies wherever you are.

I wonder if you are stationed in a town like the one to which we used to go to for school. Or maybe... you are in a city! A giant city with sky-high walls and a dizzyingly colossal castle, with bustling taverns and busy squares, luxuries spilling over from baskets and intricately woven into the locals’ drapes and… just the musings take my breath away. Last month I went to a city like that. No, even better. I went to the capital of our country – it was even better than in the pictures and textbooks. I was pleasantly overwhelmed by all of the activity and people rushing back and forth. In our village, you know almost exactly where a person is going by their facial expressions, by how they are dressed and how they are walking. Be it the market, the cemetery, the orchards, somewhere further out. We used to sit on a bench next to the main road and make our, nearly always correct, guesses about a fellow villager’s path. In the city, in the security of its grand gates, that was virtually impossible, and yet in the thousands passing me by, I had somehow managed to imagine I spotted your face.

There had been no silence in the night either. Always, there seemed to be something going on, and lights were never put out. Never was there a total somnolence, unlike in our quaint home. I bet that when one falls asleep, another wakes up – a cycle of the day and night. Would our moonlit walks have the same feel if we had been in the city? Probably not. Reality would constantly interfere and mute our true sentiments. I hope you are in a place where you are free to think; it seems to me that that is exactly what those who I shall not dare mention are trying to control lately. The posters clinging to stone walls have become wallpaper, dirtied by the sediment left from horse-drawn carts going to and fro. The announcements and misleadingly fun, inspiring songs boasting glory and promising a brighter future, tailored by fiendish composers to convince impressionable citizens that aggression is the answer. The horror of manipulation did not seduce you – you had cupped my face and whispered your hatred for the game where you and I were crafted to be pawns. But, somehow, the claws of the devilish puppeteer, searching for a fresh sacrifice, had made it into our paradise, ruining the safe haven and ripping you away to a foreign land.

I cannot begin to imagine where your feet are taking you at this very moment. Whether you are in a cheery stride singing at the top of your voice or burying yelps of fear and pain while staying crouched in the dirt. You would probably explain to me that it is better that I cannot see the present you. Before you left, you had told me that once you appear in the horizon once more, liberated from your unwanted service, we will be able to live with even grander joy, grateful for the time that we would still have together. All smiles, you promised to return with your arms wide, ready to embrace me. We could return to the same patterns, the same legend of our love.

Are you keeping your word? Does the promise stand?

Frankly, it does not matter, as long as you come home safe and sound.

San, my love, please return soon, so our hearts can beat in unison once more.

For the nation, for the glory, for the power.

You never understood why you had to leave. The slogans were obviously manipulated, the encouragements were laughably weak, and yet you left. You had seen through the façade immediately and yet, with pursed lips and tears in your eyes that you were never going to allow to fall, you marched away, so far away from home, from love, from life. We all wanted peace. However, unfortunately, those who had the power to decide thirsted for a good share of the riches that came with a catastrophe. The country, not the people, are struggling – that is what the flyers say. Fight for the greater good. For the big message. From crusades to conquests to battles to wars, there was always, supposedly a greater good. The country: a united front, a body that was the only one allowed to forget the names of those who make it, providing the individuals in control with beautiful ignorance, and the ones beneath them, sacred anonymity. You were called to work and fight for the country, not knowing what the country was. It is said that the country needs your help, but it is the people who have to fall in the end. The same people who fell into delusions that they would be saved by their glorious rulers, by their nation... Crumble like fortification, or rattle on forwards like heavy artillery.

No way back. You are an automaton. Keep your head down. Left right, left right, left right… A blank stare trained on the muddy path. There is no choice but to continue walking forwards. Those who fall do not get up again. Once you are taken to serve, you lose all sense of self. You forget about who you have been before this moment. Before the higher ups began to shout you down for breathing too loud, for having a foot a millimetre out of place, for blinking at the wrong time… You lose your feeling of being human, praying to become a machine. There is no place for humans out there.

You cannot recall what you have done after charging, spurring yourself on with an earsplitting scream. Your mind draws a blank. It is blocking you from returning to what you have seen and heard. But sometimes, on nights when you are restless and cannot fall asleep, lying on the side and staring at light coming into the room through the line between the curtains, your thoughts begin spiralling out of control. All the shards are recollected at once. You can smell the fear of your comrades, the despair and the lack of willingness to accept that it is all over.

You are holding your friend in your arms, practically lying down beside him in an attempt to avoid the barrage above you. You have known him since childhood. From the age of five years old you have supported one another and have shared one another’s joys and sorrows. You have watched one another grow up, learn, and fall in love… A part of your soul is being torn away from you. He is bleeding out too fast. Shrapnel is stuck in his body and bullet wounds pierced it right through. There is nothing you can do, and yet you keep on uttering that ‘it will be fine, you can survive, you will survive, do not go’. There is horrifying acceptance in his eyes. A gentle, holy smile. The only serenity on the battlefield. You find the actions of the rest of the soldiers around you to be sordid. They are not stopping, those fools. They are running to their own deaths. Your friend is rapidly departing. He gestures for you to lean closer. With tears making rivers down your cheeks, stained with dirt, you obey. Stifling a cry of mourning you hold him in an embrace. He whispers ‘it has been a good life’ into your ear, weakly. There is almost no spirit left in him. You could sense Death lying in wait – standing outside of the action, observing and calculating the work cut out for it: here goes another one, and another… How many guided tours would it have to make to the place of Judgement?

After coughing up the mucus that has blocked up his throat, your friend says: ‘I love you, brother. Thank you for being by my side… until the very end. Tell my wife and daughter that I love them. Yes… it has really been a good life.’ With one final push he grips your hand and squeezes it. The last handshake you will ever share with him. He shuts his eyes and lets out his final breath. His everythings will never see him again, only his name on a letter marking his end. They will never get to have a family breakfast beneath the birch in their garden. ‘Papa’ is gone. ‘Darling’ is gone. ‘Brother’ is gone. The least you can do is clean his fatal wounds and cover his body in tarpaulin to provide the bare minimum protection from the elements. Honour him by letting him go in the right way. He must have a name. Even after his death. The least you can do is to find a place which his ‘everything’, the two women in the photograph he carried in his pocket, could visit.

You scream. You cannot stop yourself. Grief overtakes you and you look up to the gloomy grey sky. Permanently overcast, looming. It is about to rain. You could smell it over the stench of raw and rotting wounds and destroyed earth. The Heavens are preparing to cry for the loss of so many innocent lives. So many guardian angels looking down on the regular civilians thrown into a war that was not meant for them. It is the people who fall, not the country.

The scream permeates dreams and reality. You jolt yourself back. Covered in cold sweat you find yourself shivering. Hair clinging onto the back of your neck and your forehead, you are lost. But it was… so real? Where did it go? You can still hear the gunfire, the sabres cutting flesh and bone, the yells. The sound of utter demise all around you. Your hands fly up to cover your ears. There is no way one can bear this. The noise spreads through you. Your heart is beating to the rhythm of the brutal march you were trained to follow.

You are home, but your inner turmoil cannot let you fully acknowledge it. Stuck in a limbo between past and present, you are trapped. The gunfire fades back into the rustling of the orchards, and the sirens dissolve into the hooting of an owl. You sit in silence, your breathing agonal. Vision swimming, it is impossible to focus. Drifting in and out of consciousness. After staggering from your bed to the windowsill you lean on it with both arms, which now bear a multitude of scars – majority of which you do not remember getting. The curtain obediently slides away revealing the night scene.

The rolling hills that go down to the river; the groves and meadows lining them at the tops. The forest in the distance. The moon. The wondrous, miraculous full moon. Untainted by the sorrows of the world it has to orbit. Forever young and beautiful. It has watched over you. Seen you at your worst and is praying for you to be able to return to your best.

The grass seems to shine in the silvery blue light. Dew has already built up, readying itself for flight in the dawn. Last echoes of grenades disappear, replaced by crickets that are giving a concert in the fields. It has been a pleasantly warm September, surprising the majority of the villagers. They rejoiced and happily spent their days working and then relaxing on one another’s porches.

Now new colours are taking over. Once the sun rises, the yellows are going to stand out against the greens, multiplying and spreading, until they will give way to oranges, reds, and browns. Birds shall migrate to a warmer place. You ponder as to where. What place could be better than this?

It was almost two hours until all symptoms and aftereffects of the attack have faded away. The tremor in your hands halted until another time, and the shallow breathing has finally levelled out and you could fill your lungs. You open the window to allow the fresh, cool night air in. Drifting into the room along with it is relief. You are thankful for the tiredness that washes over you. A welcome fatigue greets you and guides you back to bed.

Snuggling into the white sheets you curl into a foetal position and inhale the night air. It lulls you and comforts you. For now, all that haunts you is forgotten, and you are back to how you were. You are back to racing through the lilac, the lavender… Back to lugging heavy baskets full of fruit. Back when you knew of nothing that could harm you. In less than a second, you enter the land of dreams.

To this day we do not talk about what had happened. I do not want for you to suffer, nor do I want your present to be tainted with such darkness. We are now focused on what we love, and live to seize the best moments. Perhaps if I were to give my reasons for not mentioning anything, or asking you after what you had done, you would say I pity you and see you as a weakling, but that is not the case at all. I see you as the strongest person alive. You have survived through terror. You have faced phobia and apocalypse and did not cower in its presence. You have come back.

It was on a bright August morning that you have returned. The sun was shining, the nature was gleaming and a sense of victory was still hovering in the air. I had just finished preparing myself for a day of work at the farms and helping out with some resource gathering, when I see a limping figure in the distance. My heart was leaping. I did not want to bring my hopes up, but something was telling me that it was you. Perhaps it was the way your shoulders were outlined against the sky. The way you walked on without the need to check where you were going. You avoided the bump, the dips in the road without a single glance at them. It was you, my love.

I stepped outside and carefully chose my steps. Since our house was fairly close to the outskirts, I did not have to pass through the main roads to greet the mysterious, yet so familiar a figure. I slipped through the gap in the fence that has been there for as long as I can remember and quickened my pace. I strode past the field and followed the meandering path between the shacks and houses. Perhaps my wait was over, I thought. When I stopped at the road, I was sure. It could not be anybody else. But I was still tentative to rush ahead, letting me be carried by my intuition.

My legs moved on their own accord, leading me to you. We took our time. Our eyes were fixed on one another. I could not read your expression. Deep in contemplation and solemn, you trudged on, and we reunited on the golden, gravelly road to the village where we grew up. You were in uniform – had gone up in the ranks, look at you! You took off your hat, and your shabby rucksack fell to the ground, bringing up a cloud of dust with it. You leaned down to place the hat down on it, and then straightened yourself. Your eyes travelled up and down my body, as if you were trying to memorise me. I still could not begin to comprehend what you were feeling. I did not say anything. Were you disappointed? Did you expect to see somebody else?

My doubts dissolved as soon as your powerful arms wrapped around my waist, and you pulled me close. You held me in a tight embrace, whilst my hands snaked around you, recalling just how much I missed you. It was you. It was definitely you. We stood there for an eternity. We were as still as statues, even when a distant shout of ‘he returned’ had travelled to us. There was bound to be a commotion, a celebration. The biggest one after the news that the war was over. But we did not move. You did not look up. You hugged me tighter and let yourself melt into my caresses. Whispering my name, over, and over again, you were misty eyed as you removed your head from the crook of my neck and gazed at me. Tenderly, I guided you into a soothing kiss, reminding you that it was all over. You were here. You were home.

A month later, we said our real vows. We got married in the tiny church that was central to the village square. It was meant to be. The sun blessed us, shining down and giving us a shimmering peck on the tops of our heads. After the celebration, at dusk, we escaped to the hillside and gazed at the stars, drawing those same constellations with our fingers. We had been craving these quiet moments together. Now we always dedicate sometime to ourselves, in unity. Sometimes, we sit on the porch or at the table in the garden, drinking freshly made juice or tea. We do not have to talk. We just exist together. We understand what the other wants to say without it being voiced. Nodding and a knowing smile is plenty.

I will always be there. I hold your hand through your dark times and pray for it all to get better. Whatever it is. Perhaps there is no diagnosis – there are no physical symptoms for what you are feeling, and yet, you experience unbearable agony. I do not know where it comes from, so I can only assume it is in the mind. If only emotion and memory was built up of bricks or was a jigsaw puzzle. Then I would remove the pieces that hurt you so and you could go back to being a young boy with a dream.

You have matured in a way that nobody should. Far too early you have seen the evil of society and had to grow up into a stoic man. Now that you could, technically, return to how you were, the demons have stuck to you, and haunt you wherever you go, attacking you when you least expect it. Once, it happened at the farmer’s market. A loud bang from somebody dropping pots and pans resulting in us hiding in an alleyway where you collapsed with your back to a wall and curled into a ball. I dropped to my knees beside you, and counted out loud, diverting your attention, calling you back. It was always a challenge. There was nobody we knew who could give us a helping hand; we had to combat the invisible on our own.

So here we are two years later. Getting by. Living in small steps. That is enough. We try to stick to routines and use that as a comfort. A year ago, by coincidence on the anniversary that you have returned from the land beyond, we have stumbled upon a spectacular companion – an adorable mutt with wagging tail. He senses your pain and knows when to alert you. He knows you trusted him, and gave him the name ‘Haneul’. Suits him nicely.

He was the runt of the litter, and the owner thought to ‘let him go’, as they had put it. Your heart had ached for him and soon enough, the tiny puppy was wriggling in your hands, snuggling into your warmth. You fed him and cared for him night and day. The new responsibility swept you away and let your mind rest for a record amount of time.

Now, Haneul is always by your side, even when I cannot be with you. He follows you around with unbeatable persistence, protecting you. He allowed you to try and step out into society on your own, with success. Of course, it would not be life if there were no setbacks, but even when you could not leave the house, Haneul is right there, with you. He rests his upper body on your chest, right above your heart, and looks up at you with concern and adoration.

We are a happy family: you, Haneul and I. At least, we are managing with the happiness that we are provided. Long gone are the days when we would dance with the breeze, and bathe in the sunshine; white shirts fluttering like butterfly wings. It will not come back, and for the better. We would not give that time the love it deserves – our souls and will has dried out, and the time of our youth is distant. What is left is to sit in the garden, with Haneul at our feet, holding hands and recalling the time when we had made flower crowns – king and queen of a pretend world, accessible only through a child’s imagination. Too soon we have lost it. Too soon. Without a chance to say goodbye. We are two shells, together out of habit, waiting out the days and seasons. Living in perpetual motion until we live our peaceful last.

Once, in half slumber, you told me about your friend. Yes, the one who said that he has lived a good life. All I can pray for is that when the time comes, we would be able to say the same.