#like he used his powers to cheat at sports

[mega-banette]

If psychic powers are a metaphor for neurodivergancy Teruki Hanazawa is dyspraxic in this essay I will-

[wannab3-writer]

Game, Set, Love

ART DONALDSON X READER (18+)

Mature Content Warnings: spoilers if you SQUINT , Forbidden Love, Second-Chance Romance, Age Gap, Mentor and Protégé, cheating ( sorta, not on reader), SMUT, NOT PROOF READ.

WC: 13.2 k

description

After walking away from tennis at the height of his career, Art Donaldson finds himself drawn back into the sport as a favour to an old friend. His new charge, Katrina King, is a talented but emotionally young player navigating the intense pressures of the professional tennis circuit. Art and Katrina's connection deepens as they train for the 2020 US Open but a single night changes everything.

2020 BEVERLLY HILLS CHALLENGER

August 31st, 2020

Art Donaldson sat in the shaded section of the stands, his arms resting casually on the armrests. He'd made it clear to everyone—Tashi and the media—that he was done with tennis. But Martha King, a long-time supporter of his and Tashi's tennis foundation, insisted that he attend, going so far as to cover all his expenses for the weekend so he could attend. Her daughter, Katrina King, was playing her final challenger before qualifying for the US Open, and Martha believed it was something he couldn’t miss.

"It's just one set; I'm not going to sit here and beg you to coach her or anything. Just watch, Art. I think you'll find it worthwhile."

Art nodded slightly, keeping his expression neutral. "I’m here, aren't I?" he said, keeping an aloof facade. He glanced toward the court, where Katrina was preparing to serve and begin the last set. Her movements were fluid and purposeful. He'd heard about her talent and determination, but he wasn't ready to be pulled back into the tennis world.

The game began, and Katrina's serve was powerful, almost explosive. Art watched with mild interest as her opponent, a seasoned French player, struggled to keep up. He watched her body move, head to toe, taking her in. She was tall and lean; her body was nothing less than an athletes that was for sure.

"She's impressive," Art commented, a hint of genuine appreciation in his voice. Katrina’s mother smiled, her perfectly manicured fingers resting on her lap, glancing over towards him.

"She works hard," she replied. "A lot like Tashi used to. I remember watching her play when she was just starting out. She had the same intensity, the same drive."

That had left a bad taste in his mouth.

Art's gaze lingered on Katrina as she moved around the court with confidence and agility. Each shot was precise. He found himself leaning forward slightly, and his interest piqued despite his best efforts to remain indifferent.

Martha noticed the shift in his demeanor and cocked a brow. "It's good to see you out here, Art. I know you didn't want to come, but I'm glad you did," she said, her voice soft yet firm. Art nodded, his eyes fixed on the match.

"I'm just watching; nothing special, really," he replied, unsure if he was convincing himself or her.  — Another ace, and the crowd erupted in applause. Art found himself joining in, clapping slowly, though his eyes were locked on Katrina. Something about her—the energy, the focus—reminded him of the early days, the days of fire and ice, Stanford, Wimbledon, and Tashi. It was electric.

As the match progressed, Art's arms uncrossed, and he sat forward, his attention fully on the game. Katrina was dominating, each point building momentum until she reached the match point. The rallies were intense, and the shots were sharp and strategic. With one last ace, Katrina secured the game and title, and her triumphant fist-pump met with a roar from the crowd.

Art stood, clapping with genuine enthusiasm. It had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of excitement watching a match. Martha looked at him, raising an eyebrow, her expression expectant.

"Well?" she asked, her voice warm but with an edge that demanded a response.

Art hesitated only briefly, the words coming out almost involuntarily. "I'll do it," he said, realizing that he meant it. The idea of coaching Katrina suddenly seemed like an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

Martha smiled, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "I knew you'd come around," she said. "Katrina will be thrilled."

Art nodded, his gaze returning to the court where Katrina stood, smiling at the applause. Turning towards the crowd after a few seconds, she found her mother’s gaze, and then — Arts, and she held a fiery look in her eyes, sporting a raised  brow and sly smirk for what felt like at least a minute. One thing was sure for Katrina, on August 31st, 2020, the match wasn’t the only thing she had won that day, and maybe, just maybe, tennis had a place for him again.

THE MEETING

Katrina King walked down the narrow corridor backstage, sweaty, hot, and short of breath, the adrenaline from her victory still coursing through her veins. She was basking in her win, her smile broad and confident. But her mother's text just minutes after the game was clear: "Come to the players' lounge. Now."

She pushed open the door and saw her mother sitting at a small table with Art Donaldson. Katrina knew who he was—everyone in tennis knew. A former tennis champion, the US Open winner from a decade earlier.

Art looked up as Katrina entered the room, his eyes scanning her with a mix of curiosity and appraisal. Her long hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intensity and confidence. He noticed the subtle tilt of her chin—she was used to winning, and it showed.

"Katrina," Martha said, gesturing for her to join them. "You remember Art Donaldson, don't you?"

"Of course," Katrina replied, extending her hand. Art stood, his movement deliberate, and shook her hand firmly. His hair was longer than she remembered, resembling his past self, his Stanford days, and recalling his games she'd seen on YouTube. His grip was strong.

"Great game today," Art said, his voice measured. "You played with a lot of confidence. That last ace was a killer."

"Thanks," Katrina replied, a hint of pride in her tone. She could tell he was assessing her and weighing her potential. She didn't mind—she'd done the same with him, reading up on his career and his playing style as soon as she found out he was attending her game. He was known for his

Martha cleared her throat. "But," she said, her tone turning sharp, "there were a few things you need to work on. Your backhand was a bit sloppy today. And you were late on a couple of volleys. If your opponent had been more aggressive, you could've lost points."

Katrina's expression hardened. She knew her mother was right, but the criticism was not something that needed to be said in front of Art; for God sake, she was a 20-year-old woman but felt like she was a child getting scolded in front of her peers, especially after a big win. Art watched the exchange, noting the dynamic between them.

"I'll work on it," Katrina said, her voice steady. "But I got the win, didn't I?"

"You need to be prepared for tougher competition. Complacency is the enemy." Martha replied. “If you think you can win the grand slam playing like that, you’ll be in for a rude awakening, Katrina.”

Art leaned back in his chair, watching the interplay. Katrina definitely had the spark and the drive, but there was also a stubborn streak in her.

So Tashi

When she was younger, she was always pushing boundaries and never satisfied with just a win. He could see the potential for greatness.

"She's got a point," Art said, jumping in. "There's always room for improvement. But you played a solid game today. The key is to keep that momentum going without getting overconfident."

Katrina glanced at him, assessing his words. She appreciated his straightforward approach. He wasn't coddling her, but he also wasn't tearing her down. It was a balance she could respect.

"I'm not planning on slowing down," she said, meeting his gaze. "I want to keep getting better. Whatever it takes."

Art nodded. He liked her attitude. It was raw and unfiltered, just like he had been. But there was also a hint of something else—an edge that could either make or break her career. He'd have to be careful, tread lightly, and guide her without pushing too hard.

"Good," he replied, a faint smile on his lips. "Because coaching isn't just about winning. It's about building a mindset, a work ethic, and knowing when to listen. You up for that?"

Katrina raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You wouldn’t have agreed to coach me if I wasn’t.”

PRACTICE

Art Donaldson stepped into the grand foyer of the White residence, feeling a slight twinge of unease. The housekeepers greeted him politely, their voices formal and distant, leading him through the opulent hallways.

The backyard was large, with meticulously manicured gardens and a full-sized tennis court at its center. Katrina was on the court, stretching with the fluid grace of a seasoned athlete. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and in her matching tennis outfit, everything was neatly upheld, even Katrina.

"Hi," she said, her tone somewhat neutral, almost formal. "Ready for practice?"

Art nodded, his expression detached.

Katrina stretched a little longer, glancing at Art occasionally. He stood with his arms crossed, his posture stiff and unwelcoming. The silence between them felt heavy, and neither seemed eager to break it. Katrina was used to coaches being more engaged and enthusiastic, but Art seemed distant, as if he was doing this out of obligation rather than passion.

"Let's get started," he replied, keeping his voice level. He placed his bag on a bench and scanned the court, taking in the pristine surface and the quality equipment. It was clear that the King family spared no expense on Katrina's training facilities.

Art finally spoke, outlining the plan for the day. "We'll start with your serve. There's a lot of power, which is why you can get so many aces in, but you need better footwork if you want to avoid long-term injuries. Then we'll work on your defense, and after that, we'll focus on your shot selection."

Art finally spoke, outlining the plan for the day. "We'll start with your serve. There's a lot of power, which is why you can get so many aces in, but you need better footwork if you want to avoid long-term injuries. Then we'll work on your defense, and after that, we'll focus on your shot selection."

Katrina listened with a mix of uncertainty and skepticism. Art Donaldson wasn't the type to mince words, and despite his unbothered demeanor, his comments were sharp and to the point. What puzzled her was how much he seemed to know about her style, despite only seeing her play once.?

Art continued, his voice even and matter-of-fact. "I've reviewed some of your past games, mostly the ones you lost. It's clear you have the raw strength and power, but you rely on them too much. That's great for getting those aces, but without proper technique and precision, you're risking injuries and inconsistency. We need to refine that raw power and give it more structure."

Katrina couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. She knew she was strong, and her serve was one of the best on the circuit, but hearing someone dissect her game so quickly was unsettling. This was only their first practice; they hadn’t even started playing yet, but somehow Art already seemed to know her weaknesses better than most of her previous coaches.

Art continued, unaware of her internal resistance. "So, I've created a set of drills that will help improve your footwork and balance. It's not just about hitting the ball hard; it's about control and accuracy. If we don't work on these areas, you're going to burn out before you reach your peak."

Katrina folded her arms, her brow furrowing slightly. She wasn't one to take criticism lightly, especially from someone who'd barely spent time with her. Art had a point—she'd heard similar comments before—but his bluntness felt a bit too forward for her liking. Who was he to tell her she needed refinement after only seeing her play once?

As much as she wanted to dismiss him, she knew, deep down, that he was right. Her strength was a double-edged sword; it gave her an edge, but it also left her vulnerable. She'd suffered minor injuries in the past due to poor technique, and she'd lost matches because of these errors. Art's critique, though harsh, had truth to it.

Art noticed her hesitation and the slight edge in her expression. "I know this might sound a bit blunt," he said, softening his tone slightly. "But I'm not here to sugarcoat things. If you want to make it to the top and stay there, you need to listen and adjust. This isn't about criticism—it's about giving you the best chance to succeed."

Katrina sighed, feeling her resistance wane. Maybe Art was a bit too forward, but he wasn't wrong. He had seen something in her that others hadn't—or maybe he was just willing to point it out where others had stayed silent. She was stubborn, but she wasn't stupid.

"Okay," she said, her voice steady. "Let's give it a shot."

Art nodded, his demeanor slightly less rigid. "Good. Let's start with the footwork drills. I'll show you what I mean."

As they moved onto the court to begin the practice, Katrina felt a cautious sense of optimism. Art was a mystery; she had only met him once before and couldn’t recall him being this cold, but there was something about his straightforwardness that felt refreshing, even if it rubbed her the wrong way at first. Maybe this coaching thing would work out after all—if she could just learn to trust his instincts.

Art watched her for a while, his arms still crossed. He occasionally offered a brief correction, but his tone lacked enthusiasm. "Keep your elbow in on your serve. It'll give you more control," he said without much inflection.

Katrina adjusted her stance and served again, this time with better accuracy. "I got it," she replied, glancing at Art to gauge his reaction. He simply nodded, his face expressionless.

As the practice progressed, the tension between them slowly eased. Art started giving more detailed feedback, explaining why certain techniques were important. Katrina listened intently, realizing that, despite his aloof demeanor, he knew his stuff. His advice was sound, and when she followed it, she could see near-immediate improvement in her game.

"You're not bad at this coaching thing," she remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Art gave a faint smile, the first she'd seen from him. "Just repeating what I've heard a thousand times," he replied.

Katrina tilted her head, curiosity getting the better of her. "Didn't Tashi coach you your whole career? There must have been an adjustment when you two decided to retire, huh?" After those words left her mouth, she knew she had hit a sore spot.

Art's expression changed, the brief smile vanishing. "Yeah, she was." She hadn't meant any harm; really, it was an honest question. Art had a successful career with more than enough titles under his belt, not to mention a prior injury; it only made sense to retire when he did.

His voice grew colder. "Alright, breaks over." He turned away, signaling the end of the conversation.

The rest of the practice was more focused, with Art providing steady guidance and Katrina working hard to apply his advice. As the session drew to a close, Katrina felt a subtle shift in Art's attitude. He seemed a bit more relaxed and engaged in the process.

Before they wrapped up, Katrina decided to ask a question that had been on her mind. "Art, why did you agree to coach me?" she asked, her tone softer, almost hesitant. “No offense, but you didn't seem the most pleased when you got here.” She stopped and laughed. “And I know my mother's paying you well, but I'm sure you do good for yourself on your own.”

Art paused, considering his response. He looked up to the sky in thought, licking his lips only to settle his gaze on her while she rolled out her quads. "When I watched your game, I saw the determination and drive for tennis that I haven't seen in a long time," he said, his voice softer, almost reflective. "Not since Tashi," he added, his eyes distant. The memory of Tashi's knee injury and the end of her career lingered in the air. “It honestly felt like I was watching her for the first time again.”

Katrina nodded, sensing the heaviness in his words. "Thank you," she said quietly. She knew there was more to Art's story, but she also knew it wasn't her place to press further. She got up after her stretch, dusting herself off.

Art nodded, "We'll meet again tomorrow at the same time," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm. Katrina agreed, sensing that this coaching relationship would take time to develop but feeling that they were on the right track. “I think it would be a smart move to sign you up for some challengers; we’ll be able to fully gauge your abilities after a couple of weeks of training and see what we need to adjust.”

AFTER PRACTICE

Katrina stepped out of the shower, the hot water having done little to soothe the tension in her shoulders. The first practice with Art had been intense, and her muscles were starting to feel the strain. Wrapping a towel around herself, she took a deep breath, wondering if she'd made the right choice in agreeing to work with him.

As she got dressed, the scent of dinner wafted through the air, a rich aroma that made her stomach rumble. She hadn't eaten much during the day, and she hoped her mom would let her have something substantial.

Katrina entered the dining room, where her mother was already seated at the head of the table, a glass of wine in hand. The table was set with a carefully arranged selection of dishes, but Katrina noticed the absence of anything remotely indulgent. No desserts, no heavy carbs, just the usual assortment of protein and vegetables.

"Good evening, Mom," Katrina said, forcing a smile as she took a seat. Her mother looked up from her phone, her eyes bright but her expression serious.

"Katrina," Martha replied, her tone even. "How was practice with art?"

Katrina shrugged, picking up a piece of grilled chicken. "It was fine. He's... intense, but I guess that's to be expected from someone like him." She paused, then added, "How did you even get him to come to my match? He's been avoiding tennis for ages."

Martha's smile was tight, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Art and I have a history; we’ve always been interested in his foundational work. I just reminded him of the impact he could make by coming back, even if it was just for one match. And you know, he doesn't say no to me, not when your father and I are as generous as we are during his charity events."

Katrina raised an eyebrow, sensing the hint of manipulation in her mother's words. "So you used the foundation to guilt him into coming?"

Classic

Martha's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not guilt, Katrina. It's connections; your father and I do a lot for you and your career. There's a difference.” She paused. “The money we put into the foundations were investments for you; we would have preferred Tashi, sure, but after Art retired, she went off to coach some European girls, so we got the second best.” She was irritated. “Besides, I thought you'd be happy to have a coach like Art. You said yourself you needed someone with real experience." 

Katrina sighed, realizing that arguing with her mom was a lost cause. "I guess," she said, taking a cautious bite of the chicken. She glanced at the dessert tray on the far end of the table, spotting a small dish of fruit tarts. Her mouth watered at the sight of them.

Martha followed her gaze and shook her head. "Don't even think about it," she said firmly. "Your dietitian would have a fit. You know you're on a strict regimen."

Katrina rolled her eyes, but she didn't push back. Her mom was relentless when it came to her career, and any deviation from the plan was met with immediate correction. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, feeling her appetite wane.

“Where’s Jayden and Judea?” Katrina asked only now, noticing her siblings were missing from the dinner table.

“They went out to dinner with the rest of the kids that train with them and coach Pattcheo.”

“mmh.”

After dinner, Katrina retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. She felt a mix of frustration and curiosity. Frustration with her mom's overbearing attitude and curiosity about Art.

She opened her laptop and started searching for Art's social media profiles. His Instagram was sparse, mostly old tennis photos and a few promotional shots, brand deals, and the foundation. Barley has no pictures of his daughter and no recent ones of Tashi. His Facebook was similar, with long gaps between posts. There were articles about his career, but nothing stood out.

"For such a big shot, there’s not much for me to stalk," she muttered to herself, scrolling through the limited content. It was clear that Art wasn't one for the limelight, preferring to keep a low profile. Katrina found herself intrigued.

She searched for videos of his old matches, curious to see him in action. She found a few highlights from his glory days, watching as he moved across the court with precision and grace. It was easy to see why he'd been a champion—his technique was flawless, and his focus was intense.

"Not bad," she said to herself, watching a particularly impressive rally where he had dominated his opponent.

As the night grew darker, Katrina closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. Art was weird, and she wasn't sure how to feel about him yet. But one thing was clear—he had a depth that she'd have to uncover if she wanted to make the most of his coaching. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be the one to help her reach the next level.

SIX DAYS BEFORE US OPEN

It was six days before the Open, and Art stood at the far end of the court, watching Katrina as she moved through a set of agility drills. The sun was beating down, but Katrina was relentless, her movements swift and precise. As he took her in, he marveled at how good she looked. The thin layer of sweat that covered her form made her glow in the evening light, with her baby hair clinging to her face as she hit ball after ball. He drank in her curves, nearly forgetting what he was actually here for.

Art was calling out instructions, his voice clear but encouraging. Clearly, the past five weeks of training had brought them closer, both in skill and in the ease with which they interacted.

"Remember to keep your weight centered," Art said, pointing toward her feet. "Don't lean too much into the shot; it'll throw off your balance. Other than that, you’re looking good."

Katrina nodded, adjusting her stance. She enjoyed the sound of his voice, especially when he was praising her. It felt genuine, not just a coach’s platitude. She could sense an unspoken tension between them, but she couldn't quite define it. It was there, in the way his eyes lingered a fraction longer than they needed to, in the way he sometimes reached out to correct her form.

"Nice volley," Art said as she expertly returned the ball over the net. "You're really getting the hang of these drills."

"Thanks," Katrina replied, giving him a small smile. "I learned from the best."

Art chuckled, shaking his head. "Flattery won't save you on the court, but it's appreciated." He watched as she moved into position for a backhanded hit, a play that had been a weak point for her. She swung, and the ball clipped the net.

Maybe she was just tired, or maybe he just looked too good; either way, she was distracted. How was she supposed to focus when he was standing with his broad shoulders and arms crossed and that damn backwards Sandford snapback observing like a hawk? She understood that’s his job; he’s quite literally getting paid to be here. Something was different though; the look he gave her five weeks ago, shit even two weeks ago, was nothing near the way he looks at her now.

“Stop.” He says, and she halts her hit.

Art moved closer, taking a pause, before walking behind her, closing the distance between them. "Here, let me show you," he said, reaching around her to correct her grip on the racket. His breath was warm on her neck, and Katrina tensed, feeling a heat that wasn't from the sun. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding her into the proper position.

"Like this," Art said, stepping back slightly but still close enough to feel his presence. "Keep your elbow straight and your wrist firm."

Katrina nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath and swung again, this time clearing the net with ease.

“There we go, atta girl.” He whispered while cracking a smile.

She felt hot, oh god, and it definitely wasn’t the sun. How could he say that so casually? She didn’t have to just deal with the fact that she’s now all hot and bothered, but also the guilty embarrassment of realizing she has a fat crush on her 30-sum-year-old tennis coach, who just happens to be a husband and father.

Right

Pulling away, she changes the subject, considering he’s been silent for the past minute and a half. "How's your daughter doing? And Tashi?" She felt the atmosphere shift as Art cleared his throat, stepping back.

"Lily's doing well," he replied, his voice controlled. "She's on tour with Tashi, who's coaching her for the season." He left it at that, his eyes avoiding hers as he focused on the court. "Keep hitting the ball with that form," he added, his tone all business now.

Art adjusted his pants, his expression tight, and turned to leave. "I'll be right back," he said. "I just need to run to the bathroom."

Katrina watched him go, her heart still racing from the moment he'd been so close. She tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on her training, but the lingering warmth of his presence was hard to ignore. The open tournament was coming up, and she needed to be at her best, both on and off the court. The challenge would be to keep her focus where it needed to be.

“Oh, what the fuck, Art?” feeling his own disappointment, he said to himself as he did his best to fix the hard-on that was growing by the second. What would he give to be able to take a cold shower right now?

Scurrying to the bathroom, he quickly shut the door behind him. He takes a deep breath and leans against the door, contemplating what just happened and palming himself.

“Fuck” was uttered in a raspy and hushed manner.

He turns to look at himself in the mirror. He felt guilty forgetting hard for a girl over a decade younger than him. But that wasn’t what he really felt guilty about. He felt guilty because he liked it. She was fiery; she was driven, and the way she looked at him, with admiration, was long since Tashi looked at him with any emotion of the sort. Katrina made him feel good about himself. And fuck, was she hot. He was almost certain that as the days of training passed, the length of her skirt shortened and her tops got tighter, or maybe he just started paying attention to it.

He needed to stop thinking of her for his sanity and his cocks, because leaving every practice with blue balls for the last week and a half hasn’t been pleasant.

Splashing himself with cold water and tucking his dick into his waistband, he walks back out before she starts questioning anything.

"All right, that's it for today," he called out, clapping his hands to get her attention. "Good work. We'll take it easy tomorrow, then hit the road the day after."

Katrina straightened, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Thanks," she said, her voice a little breathless from the intense workout. "I feel good about it. I think we're ready."

Art nodded, watching her carefully as she walked toward him. There was a grace to her movements, even in her exhaustion. She carried herself with confidence, but there was also a vulnerability that he'd come to recognize. It was in the way she sometimes hesitated before speaking or the way her eyes softened when they shared a joke.

"Thanks for, you know, doing this," Katrina said, her eyes meeting his. "I know you didn't have to, but... I'm glad you did."

Art felt a strange warmth in his chest, a sense of connection that he'd been avoiding, or perhaps suppressing. There was something about Katrina that made him want to stay, to guide her through the ups and downs of the game. And it wasn't just about tennis. It was something deeper, something that made him feel almost protective.

"It's been a good few weeks," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "You've got a lot of potential, Katrina. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think you could go far."

She smiled, a genuine smile that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where neither of them moved. He knew he should step back and create some distance, but he found himself drawn in, his gaze lingering on her lips, then her eyes. There was something about her.

"All right," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Get some rest tonight. We've got a long drive ahead of us, and I need you focused."

Katrina nodded, her eyes locking with his. The tension was palpable, a mix of excitement and something else, something neither of them wanted to name. Art felt the stirrings of something almost primal, a desire that had been dormant for a long time. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but it was there, simmering just beneath the surface.

"Good night," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

"Good night," he replied, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer than they should. "Rest up. I'll see you tomorrow." With his things packed, he walked off the court, leaving her to stretch.

The US Open tournament was coming, and with it, a new set of challenges—both on and off the court.

THE DRIVE TO SAN DIEGO

This was unexpected. Somehow, Katrina was sitting in the passenger seat of Arts Blue Bronco and had managed to snag herself a one-on-one tournament weekend with the Art Donaldson himself. Her mother had only missed three of her games throughout her entire career. The first time was when Katrina was 12. Her mother didn't attend because Katrina had just started playing tennis, and her mother assumed she wouldn't be good enough to watch, so she spent her time on holiday with the neighborhood housewives and was pleasantly surprised when Katrina returned with her first trophy. The second time was when Katrina was 16. Their grandmother had passed away, but Katrina's mother insisted that Katrina should play in the game instead of staying home to grieve like a normal person. She told Katrina that every win was one step closer to a successful career; bad things happen all the time, and you simply “need to get over it and move on." The third time was today, when Katrina was 20, after her little brother's appendix unexpectedly burst at 4 a.m. in the morning, and he and their mom had to rush to the hospital.

"How do you feel about your mom not being here this time?" Art asked, leaning back in his seat. He took a sip of his coffee, glancing at Katrina's expression carefully.

Katrina shrugged. "Honestly? I'm kind of happy she's not here. It's like a weight off my shoulders. I don't have to worry about her criticizing every move I make or every shot I miss."

Art nodded, sensing the relief in her voice. "Your mom seems pretty tough on you."

"She is," Katrina replied, swirling her drink. "She talks a big game, but sometimes I think she doesn't really know what she's saying. Like when she criticizes my plays—she doesn't really get the game, you know? She just wants to be involved, but it's not always helpful."

Art felt a twinge of sympathy. He'd known parents like that, always pushing, always expecting perfection without understanding the sacrifices involved. "I'm glad I could be here for you, then," he said. "You shouldn't have to go through all this alone. It's hard enough without extra pressure from someone who isn't really helping."

Katrina shrugged, her lips curling into a small, ironic smile. "It's been like that since I was a kid. I never had much of a childhood, anyway. The little bit of teenager-like stuff I did, I had to sneak around to do it. Mom was always watching, always pushing me to be the best and to win. I never really got to be a kid."

Art felt a pang of something deep in his chest. It wasn't just empathy—it was a sense of injustice, of the things Katrina had missed out on. He'd seen it before in other athletes whose parents lived vicariously through their children, expecting them to carry the weight of their own dreams. It was a burden no young person should have to bear. Shit went through it himself with Tashi, and it eventually cost them their relationship.

"That sounds rough," he said, his voice gentle. "Everyone deserves a chance to be a kid—to have fun, to make mistakes, to figure things out without a constant spotlight." 

“I definitely have to make mistakes." She paused and giggled in embarrassment. “This might be T.M.I. But my first time was with a random guy around my age that was dragged to a dinner party at his parents house.” She side-eyes Art for a moment. “Of course, while the adults did whatever adults do, we snuck off into the liquor cabinet, got so hammered, and then decided to go up to my room.”

Art only looked at her with a raised brow, waiting for her to finish.

“Long story short, by the time we were done, everyone was looking for us — of course we were too stupid to think that anyone would notice we were missing for over an hour.” She sighs with a smile. "Anyways, it turns out they were serving desert, and when the housekeeper came in looking for us, she couldn’t hold back a scream. It's safe to say I can’t even remember how long I was grounded for.”

Art was fully laughing now, not sure if it was from second hand embarrassment or because of how unexpected this was.

“Mistakes aren’t something; you escape, believe me.” He seemed nostalgic.

"Yeah," Katrina replied, her gaze dropping to the table. 

“Anyways, I’m sure instances like that’s what made me basically one of the strongest tennis players of all time,” she concludes, sarcastically exaggerating.

Art sighed, leaning forward slightly. "Strength isn't just about winning," he said. "It's about finding your own way, making your own choices, and being okay with who you are, even if it doesn't fit someone else's expectations."

Katrina looked up at him, her expression thoughtful. "That's what I want," she said. "I want to play because I love it, not because I'm trying to prove something to someone else. I just... I wish I had more time to figure it all out."

Art nodded, understanding her struggle. "You'll get there," he said. "You've got a lot of potential, and you're doing it for the right reasons. Just remember, it's okay to take a step back sometimes. To enjoy the game, to find joy in the small things,

Katrina smiled—a real smile that reached her eyes. "Thanks," she said. "I needed to hear that."

Art returned her smile, feeling a connection that went beyond coach and player. It was a moment of genuine understanding, the kind that made all the effort and hard work worth it. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but at least they had each other to navigate it together.

AT THE HOTEL

After a two-hour drive, Art and Katrina King arrived at the hotel where they would be staying during the tournament in San Diego. The hotel was upscale, with modern decor and spacious rooms. They'd been given a suite with two separate bedrooms connected by a shared living area. It was the perfect setup for coach and player.

Art had just finished unpacking when he decided to knock on Katrina's door. It was only 7 p.m., and he thought it might be nice to have dinner together. A little bonding before the tournament might help ease some of the tension they have been feeling lately. There is no harm in a friendly dinner. 

Right?

Katrina opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Art standing there. "Hey," she said, her voice softer than usual. "What's up?"

"Want to grab dinner?" Art asked, keeping his tone casual. "There's a nice restaurant downtown I've been meaning to check out every time I come down here."

Katrina hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a hint of a smile. "Sure, why not?" she replied. She felt a slight flutter in her stomach—this wasn't just a quick meal at the hotel lobby; it was a proper dinner out.

"Great," Art said, checking his designer watch. "Meet you back here in 40."

Katrina agreed, closing the door to get ready. She picked out a simple black dress, something a little fancier than she normally wears. Her brown hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, cascaded down in curls. When she checked her reflection in the mirror, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was just dinner, right?

When she stepped out of her room, Art was already waiting in the living area. He glanced up and immediately did a double take. Katrina looked stunning, the soft curls of her hair framing her face perfectly. Her dress hugged her figure in a way that made it hard to look away. Art felt like a high school boy going out on his first date. He could already feel himself stiffen. 

Blinking, he gives up a smirk. "You look great."

Katrina blushed slightly. "Thanks," she replied, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "You don't look too bad yourself. Nice seeing you outside of tennis attire."

The place was dimly lit with candlelight, adding to the intimate atmosphere. As they sat down, Art felt a sense of ease with Katrina that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was nice to know that for once, something in her life wasn't just about tennis; it was about getting to know each other on a personal level.

As time passed, they got into a comfortable conversation, talking about anything and everything.

"So," Katrina began, looking across the table at him, "you mentioned your daughter earlier. Tell me about her."

Art smiled at the mention of Lily. "She's great," he said. "She's 10 and a total fire cracker; she’s starting boarding school next year. She’s got this energy that lights up a room. She loves tennis, too, but I'm trying not to push her too hard. I want her to find her own path."

Katrina nodded, appreciating his perspective. "Sounds like you're a good dad."

Art chuckled softly, then his expression turned a bit somber. "I try to be. Things have been complicated at home. Tashi and I are technically still together, but it's more for Lily's sake than anything else." He paused, glancing at Katrina to gauge her reaction. "We're not really happy, but we're making it work—for now. Nothing has really been the same since I retired, you know."

Oh, that makes sense. She tensed.

Katrina felt a guilty glimmer of hope. If Art and Tashi were essentially separated, then maybe her fantasies weren't so impossible after all. The thought made her blush, and she took a sip of water to hide it.

As the dinner progressed, they subtly flirted with each other. Art ordered a bottle of wine to keep the conversation going, which prompted Katrina to raise an eyebrow. "Isn't this off-limits?" she teased. "My mother and my dietitian would be so disappointed."

Art smirked. "You have to live a little," he replied, pouring her a glass. "Besides, a glass of wine won't ruin your career. It's all about balance, right?"

Katrina laughed softly. "Isn't it ironic that a thirty-something-year-old man is telling a twenty-year-old to have fun?"

Art chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Maybe I know a thing or two about loosening up," he said with a playful wink. "Life's too short to be serious all the time."

“You sure look like you know how to have fun,” she said in a teasing tone. It was clear her words had a double meaning.

Art smirked and quipped, “I do; you just have to pry it out of me, I guess.

As the evening went on, the tension between them grew more palpable. The candlelight, the soft music, the wine—all of it added to the atmosphere. There was an undercurrent of attraction, a pull that neither of them could ignore. By the end of the night, you could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

Art leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "We should probably head back," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "I don't want to overdo it before the tournament."

Katrina nodded, feeling her heart race. "Yeah, probably a good idea," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they left the restaurant, the night air felt cooler against their skin, but the heat between them hadn't cooled at all. They walked back to the hotel in comfortable silence, each aware of the unspoken desire simmering just beneath the surface, steeling glances here and there.

The tension had been building throughout dinner. As they reached their suite, Art turned to Katrina, his expression neutral but his eyes holding a hint of warmth.

"Well, I guess we should call it a night," he said, reaching for his key card. He didn't want to cross any boundaries, especially with the multiple games she had tomorrow. But the way Katrina looked at him during dinner made it difficult to ignore the desire simmering just beneath the calm exterior.

Katrina held up a finger. "Okay...” she paused, feigning a thought. “But we didn't finish the bottle of wine," she said with a playful smile. "And my mom's going to be back for the second day of the tournament. This might be our only chance to… get to know each other; we’ll have to throw it out if we don’t finish it tonight, just sayin’."

The wine was definitely hitting.

Art hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

They moved into the shared living room, which had a small kitchenette and a comfortable seating area. Katrina grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses while Art flipped through the channels on the television, settling on a random movie for background noise. It was an action film with a lot of explosions and fast-paced scenes, but neither of them paid much attention to it.

As they settled onto the couch, Katrina poured them each a glass of wine. The atmosphere was relaxed, but there was an underlying current of flirtation. They started talking about the tournament, about tennis, and then about life in general. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and playful banter.

"You know," Art said, taking a sip of wine, "I didn't think I'd enjoy coaching, but I'm glad I came back for this."

Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Coaching? You're more like a mentor," she teased. "Plus, you're not that old to be called a coach."

Art chuckled. "Careful, or I'll make you run extra laps tomorrow," he replied, giving her a mock stern look. "I'm not that old, but I've seen a lot in my time."

"Sure, sure," Katrina said, rolling her eyes. "You're practically ancient."

They both laughed, the sound filling the room. As the conversation continued, they found themselves leaning closer to each other, the space between them shrinking with each passing minute. The flirting became more overt—the playful touches on the arm, the shared smiles, and the lingering glances.

Art felt the tension building and the pull growing stronger. He knew he should keep his distance, but the way Katrina looked at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, made it difficult to resist.

"You know," he said, his voice low and smooth, "you're more than just a talented player, Katrina.” He looked at her with a dark gaze. “There's something about you that makes it hard to stay away. Even when I know I should."

Katrina's eyes widened slightly, her heart racing at his words. The air between them felt electric and charged with anticipation. There were no words left to be said; they leaned in without even noticing, and there they were, on the hotel couch, lips smashed together. The wine glass in Katrina's hand tilted, spilling a few drops onto the couch, but neither of them seemed to notice or care.

The kiss was intense, filled with the desire that had been building for weeks. It was risky, even dangerous, given their roles as coach and athlete. But in that moment, none of it mattered. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them caught in a whirlwind of emotion and longing.

Sprawled out like a couple of horny teenagers making out on their parent’s couch, it was almost comedic. 

When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was ragged, and their eyes locked in a mix of surprise and exhilaration. The movie played on in the background, the noise a distant echo as they sat there, close together, knowing that everything had changed in a single moment.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Art broke the silence first.

“Yeah, we really shouldn't.” She pulled back for a moment. “But we already did.” She moved up to fix his nonexistent collar. “Unfortunately, I have this really good coach, and he’d hate to see me not finish something I started.” Sha gazed up at him as she finished giving him a cheeky smile.

She was giving him that look, a look that said nothing less than fuck me.

Art couldn’t do anything more than chuckle and give in. “Well, I’d hate to be the reason you disappoint him.“ He told her as he lifted her up into his lap.

“You’ve gotta live a little, you know.” She said it in-between kisses. His lips, his neck, and his jaw. There wasn’t an inch of him; she wasn’t going to kiss tonight.

“You’re right.” Their mouths dance together, their tongues fighting for dominance. Arts hands were taking all her in. Her dress pooled around her waist as he slipped his hands under it, grasping her tits. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this, Katrina.” He breathes out in a hushed manner, biting at her lip.

“Prove it to me, Art.” She says she is pulling her dress over her head. He stopped taking a moment to drink her in; she was beautiful.

“Holly fuck.” He rasps out, unclasping her bra, leaving it to be forgotten, much like the wine.

Katrina could feel the raging hardness beneath her. Grinding into it, she lets out a moan as he kisses and sucked on her exposed breast. “Every time I’d walk on the court, and I’d see you wearing your tight little tennis outfits, god,” he rasped while bighting his lip. “All I could think about was how I wanted to bed you over and fuck you right then and there.” He picked her up and started walking to her bedroom. “Now, I get to be a good coach and teach you a thing or two.” He threw her on the bed, peering over her with hungry eyes and breathing heavily. “Will you be a good student and let coach fuck some knowledge into you, huh, baby?”

“I’ve never let you down, have I?” She answered him, looking up at him from the bed, her big doe eyes saying everything for her. “Show me how it’s done, coach.” She wet her lips seductively.

“Well, first, pretty girl, it’s important to get warmed up. You need help warming up, babe.” Art drags his finger from her thigh to her stomach and back down to her panties.  Slowly pulling them off. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he gazes up at her with hooded eyes. He kisses along her thighs, sucking now and then, making his way up to her sopping cunt. When he does reach her, he begins lapping at her like a man who’s been deprived of water for forty days and forty nights.

“Oh my God, Art, it feels so good.” She could feel herself getting short of breath. It was so good, better than anything she had fantasized about while taking the shower head for a spin. Grasping his hair in her hand, she can’t help but grind her pussy in his face, making both him and her a sloppy mess.”

“You’re so good for me; you've always been a fast learner, you know.” He pulled up, leaving trails of kisses as he made his way up and onto the bed. “My pretty girl,” he says, looking down at her with a smirk, his chin wet with her juices. He gets off the bed and starts to strip. His shirt comes up first, giving her the opportunity to get up on her knees and run her hands over his toned abs as she continues to kiss his neck. He follows with his. Belt slipped off his pants, his cock springing up, strained by his boxers. Katrina can’t help but feel her mouth damn near water. Pulling his boxers down, she lets a glob of her saliva leak on his cock before taking him into her mouth with a moan. Art only grabs her hair in his fist before letting out a deep moan and letting his eyes roll back. “Really got a mouth on you, huh, pretty girl.” He caresses her cheek. “Taking me all in.”

He pulls out, a string of saliva following, only to drip down from her chin onto her chest as he motions for her to lay back down on the bed. “You ready to get that pretty pussy fucked?” he leans down, sucking on her nipples. “You’ve warmed up enough, don’t you think?”

"Yes.” Its barley is above a whisper.

“What was that? You’ve got to use your words, Kat." He says, slightly pulling away from her lips, waiting for a better response.

“Please fuck me, Art.” She moans out, “I need you now."” She pulls him back down for a kiss, lining her hips up with his. He’s teasing at her entrance for a moment before she grabs his lower back and pulls him in the whole way. They both let out a sigh of relief as she felt her walls stretch around his length and he felt her wetness embrace him.

He’s fully thrusting now, with his whole strength, his hips snapping into hers with purpose. Grunts and moans are coming out of both their mouths.

"Switch,” she says, suddenly pushing him back a bit, only for her to get on top, grinding her hips in circles while riding him. “You’re so good, Art; you make me feel so good,” she’s breathless, guiding his veiny hands onto her chest. “I’ve ouched myself so many times fantasizing about this, thinking about how I’d take your cock.” She slips his fingers into her mouth, sucking on them for a second. “Even better than I dreamed,” she smirked. She could feel the pit inside her tighten; she was close, and she could tell that he was too.

She looked down at her and motioned for Art to open his mouth, and when she did, she let her spit trickle down into his mouth with a satisfied grin. That was it for him; after she did that, he started hammering on her mercilessly.

“Oh my god, harder art.” She says this with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He obliged his vice like a grip.. Her ass was so hard, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it bruised tomorrow. His pace was uneven with labored breaths; he let out one loud moan before pulling out and cumming all over her stomach, some even getting on himself. She didn’t even have the time to process what happened before she was pushed onto her stomach. 

There he was again, nose deep in her aching pussy, only this time it was from behind, and he was going between her cunt and her asshole. Moaning into a pillow, it didn’t take long for her to finish all over his face, collapsing onto the bed, flat on her stomach.

After a long and hot shower, Art lay on his back, his arm around Katrina as they were in bed, enjoying the stillness of the night. The hotel room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow that created an intimate ambiance. Katrina's head rested on his shoulder, her hair cascading over his chest. It felt comfortable and natural, like they belonged there.

Art turned slightly to look down at Katrina, her face peaceful and relaxed. He traced his fingers gently along her arm, a simple, affectionate gesture that made her shiver slightly. It was a closeness that was rare for him, something he hadn't felt in years, and he cherished it.

"You're something else, you know that?" He said, his voice low and warm. "You've got this way of making me feel like I'm twenty again. I don't know what it is, but you bring out a side of me that I thought was long gone."

Katrina smiled, her eyes still closed as she nestled closer against him. "That's a good thing, right?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur.

Art chuckled, his hand gently stroking her hair. "Yeah, it's a good thing," he replied. "I really enjoyed tonight. It was... different from what I'm used to, but in the best possible way. I wasn't sure I wanted to get into coaching, but being your coach has been one of the best decisions I've made in a long time."

Katrina opened her eyes and looked up at him, her gaze warm and inviting. "I'm glad you did," she said. "I don't know where I'd be without you. It's not just about tennis—it's about everything else. You made me realize it’s not just hitting a ball with a stick."

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, a simple, tender gesture that spoke volumes. "You've got a lot of talent, Katrina," he said.

Katrina blushed, feeling a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the physical closeness. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft. "That means a lot coming from you. I feel the same way, you know. You make everything seem a little easier, like it's all going to be okay."

Art nodded, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just affection—it was a sense of connection, a bond that he knew was special.

Katrina sighed contentedly, her head resting against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, grounding her in the moment. She felt safe, secure, and genuinely happy. It was a feeling she hadn't had in a long time, and she wasn't ready to let it go.

Art tightened his arm around her, holding her a little closer. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of their connection. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Katrina by his side, he felt like he could take on anything.

THE TOURNEMENT

Katrina woke up to an empty bed. The warm spot where Art had lain the night before had cooled, and there was no sign of him in the hotel room. She rubbed her eyes, feeling a twinge of disappointment. It was early, but she figured he had probably gone to start prepping for the tournament—they had a busy day ahead. It had been a long night.

She sat up, stretched, and looked around the room. Everything was in its usual place; nothing seemed out of order. Art's clothes were gone, and her things were neatly put away, almost as if he had never stayed there.

Strange

Katrina didn’t dwell on it. It made sense that he might have moved his things back to his room to get ready for the day. After all, he was her coach, and today was important.

She got dressed in her tennis gear, taking her time in the bathroom to brush her hair and freshen up. The uncertainty about where Art had gone was starting to creep in, but she pushed it aside. There was no need to get worked up—he'd turn up soon enough.

Katrina made her way to the living room and kitchen, expecting to find Art there, but he was nowhere to be seen. She checked her phone, but there were no messages from him. It was odd; usually, he'd leave some sort of note or text. She grabbed one of her pre-prepared meals from the fridge and ate it while waiting for him to return, her mind running through the drills they’d be doing later that day.

After what felt like an eternity, Art finally walked in, holding a cup of coffee from the café downstairs. Katrina felt a rush of relief. "Hey," she said, trying to sound casual. "You went out for coffee?"

Art nodded, but his demeanor was noticeably colder than usual. His eyes were distant, and his responses were curt. "Yeah," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. His tone was flat, lacking the warmth she had come to expect from him.

Katrina felt a flicker of anxiety. "Is everything okay?" she asked, trying to engage him in conversation. "You seem a little off."

Art shrugged, barely looking at her. "Just focused on the tournament," he said, his voice detached. "We've got a lot to do today."

Katrina felt a pang of confusion. This was a complete 180 from the night before. They had shared something special, something she thought was meaningful. She wasn’t expecting a proposal. But now he was acting as if it had never happened. So she pressed the issue.

"Art, why are you acting like this?" she asked, her tone edged with concern. "Last night was... well, it was nice. What changed."

Art set his coffee cup down, his expression hardening. "I'm being a responsible coach," he said, his voice cold. "You have important matches today. We can't afford distractions."

Katrina was taken aback by his abruptness. "Distractions? Is that what last night was to you?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Art sighed, rubbing his temples. "Katrina, we can't do this. You need to be focused. What happened last night." He stopped, choosing his words carefully. "It was a mistake, and I need you to be serious about this tournament."

Katrina felt a surge of anger and hurt. "A mistake?" she said, her voice sharp. "So that's it? We just pretend it never happened. You can't just switch like that!"

Art's expression was stern. "You need to act like you've got an important game today, because you do. And I have to be the coach you need, not something else."

Katrina felt her heart sink. This wasn't the Art she knew. The warmth and connection from the night before were gone, replaced by a wall of professionalism and distance. But there wasn't time to press further—they had to get to the court and start their warm-up drills.

The argument left Katrina feeling disoriented and hurt, but there was no time to dwell on it. She had to focus on the tournament, even if her coach seemed to have turned into a different person overnight. As they headed out the door, she tried to shake off the feeling, knowing that the game ahead demanded her full attention.

FIRST MATCH

The stadium was buzzing with anticipation as the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, introducing the players for the Challenger tournament. The crowd applauded as Katrina King and Alexis Grace stepped onto the court, each acknowledging the fans with a wave. Art Donaldson watched from the sidelines, his eyes focused on Katrina as she moved to her position.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first match of the US Open," the announcer said, continuing on.

Art knew it would be a challenging game. Alexis was a good opponent who could hold her own, but based on states alone, this should be an easy win, for lack of better words. Art felt a pang of guilt for how he'd acted that morning. He'd been cold and distant, trying to maintain professionalism, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wished he could go back and handle things differently, but now wasn't the time for regrets—Katrina needed his support.

The first set began with Katrina serving. She delivered a somewhat strong shot, but Alexis returned it with ease, sending the ball back with a blistering forehand. Katrina scrambled to keep up, her movements swift but slightly off-balance. She managed to return the shot, but Alexis was already at the net, volleying the ball with precision.

Art watched, his heart racing. Katrina had the talent, but he could tell she was getting into her own head. The missed points seemed to weigh heavily on her, and she was starting to lose her composure. He couldn't blame her—his behavior hadn't helped.

Katrina's next serve was strong, but Alexis anticipated it, returning the ball with a slice that landed just out of Katrina's reach. The crowd murmured, sensing the momentum shift in Alexis's favor. Art clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. He needed to be there for Katrina, even if she didn't want to hear it right now. Her errors were becoming more frequent. A double fault here, a missed volley there—it was starting to add up.

Art's internal thoughts were filled with frustration and guilt. He knew he had to do something to help her, but he also knew her head wasn’t focused on the game. As the set progressed, the tension in the stadium grew. Katrina's shots were becoming more erratic, and Alexis capitalized on every mistake.

Finally, the set ended with a decisive point from Alexis, securing her the first set. The crowd erupted in applause, but Art felt a sinking feeling in his chest.

Katrina King sat on the bench, her racket resting between her knees, and tried to catch her breath. The set break was supposed to be a chance to reset, to gather her thoughts, and to prepare for the next game, but she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her body felt tense, and her heart was heavy with doubt.

This match was supposed to be a warmup, and I’m making a complete fool of myself. She thought, scrunching her brows as she looked up at the sky.

Her hand gripped the racket tighter, the familiar texture offering a semblance of comfort.

A mistake

This morning kept replaying in her mind, each word like a weight pressing down on her. It had thrown her off and shaken her confidence. She couldn't understand why he'd suddenly turned so cold.

What the fuck did I get myself into? She wondered, feeling a mix of anger and confusion.

She glanced at the sidelines, where Art sat, his arms crossed, watching the court with a distant expression. He was focused, but not on her. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and his detachment made her stomach twist. It felt like a betrayal, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was alone out there.

He's just a coach. I don't need him to win. I've been doing this on my own for years.

But the more she tried to convince herself, the more her emotions swirled. Last night felt like a turning point, like they were connecting on a deeper level. And now, all that warmth and all that understanding were gone. It left her feeling hollow and unsure of her next move.

Forget about this morning. Forget about last night. Forget about Art. Just play the game. That’s all you're good at anyway.

She couldn't forget, not when it felt like her world was shifting beneath her feet. The pressure of the tournament, the expectations from everyone, and now the unexpected 180—it was all too much. She needed to find her focus, but it felt like she was battling more than just an opponent on the court. She was battling her own doubts and her own insecurities, and it was starting to show.

The umpire's call signaled the end of the break, and Katrina stood up, her legs feeling heavier than usual. She couldn't afford to let this slip away. She had to find a way to center herself and regain the focus and determination that had brought her this far. But as she walked back onto the court, she knew it wouldn't be easy. The shadows of doubt were growing, and she wasn't sure if she had the strength to push them back.

The final set was about to begin, and the energy in the stadium was electric. Kat had lost the first set to Alexis, barely clawed her way back to win the second, and now faced the challenge of closing out the match.

A whirlpool of frustration was consuming her. She knew she should be playing better than this. Alexis was a competent player, but she shouldn't have been able to pressure Katrina like she was doing now. The missteps, the errant serves, the missed volleys—it was all spiraling out of control. She knew she had to get her head back in the game.

"Come on, Katrina," Art muttered under his breath, his frustration growing. He knew he should’ve never said what he had this morning, and God did he regret it. Not even because it threw her off her game, but simply because it wasn’t true.

I didn’t mean it, Kat.

Alexis returned Katrina's second serve with a deep forehand, forcing Katrina to run to the back of the court. She managed to get the ball back, but it was a weak return, and Alexis took advantage, hitting a powerful backhand down the line. Katrina struggled to reach it, her footwork sloppy.

The crowd murmured, sensing the shift in momentum. Katrina felt her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Get it together," she told herself, trying to drown out the negativity in her mind. She took a deep breath and prepared for the next point, knowing she couldn't afford to lose her composure.

Art clenched his fists, watching Katrina's struggle. He wanted to shout words of encouragement; right now, he needed Katrina to find her focus and to play like he knew she could.

The next few points were a back-and-forth battle. Katrina managed to win a couple of rallies, showing glimpses of her usual skill, but Alexis was relentless. Katrina's errors were piling up, and Alexis capitalized on every mistake. A missed serve here, a poorly timed volley there—it was all adding up, and Katrina felt like she was falling apart.

He knew he had to do something to help her, but he wasn't sure what. She was slipping, and he could see it in her eyes—the doubt, the frustration. He wished he could just rewind the morning and start over.

Katrina's frustration boiled over as she missed yet another shot, sending the ball wide of the sideline. She clenched her racket, her anger turning inward.

What the actual fuck kat? She felt herself slipping.

Art watched as Katrina's confidence seemed to crumble. Every point felt like a battle, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. The crowd's cheers seemed distant, drowned out by her own inner turmoil. She needed to find her focus and remember why she loved the game in the first place.

Katrina King stood at the baseline, bouncing the tennis ball as she prepared to serve. The pressure was immense. The score was tied, but this was match point for Alexis.

"Just get this right," she told herself, bouncing the ball one more time. "Keep it simple, focus on your form, and breathe."

She threw the ball up and swung, her serve powerful but lacking the usual precision.

The umpire's call was clear: "In!"

Alexis immediately raised her hand, signaling her challenge.

Katrina tensed, holding her breath. Fuck. She had already accepted defeat.

The electronic system, designed to track the ball's trajectory, sprang into action. The large screen above the court displayed the replay, with the lines highlighted in bold white against the blue surface.

The slow-motion replay showed the ball’s descent, curving slightly in its flight. It landed, from this perspective, millimeters inside the line, causing the crowd to murmur in anticipation. The pause felt longer than it actually was, with everyone waiting for the official verdict.

Alexis stood with her racket resting on her shoulder, her expression tense and unimpressed. She glanced at Katrina, who remained at the baseline, her stance rigid.

The electronic system confirmed the umpire's call: "In!" The word flashed across the screen, accompanied by a graphic showing the ball's exact position—just inside the line. The crowd erupted in applause, and Katrina allowed herself a small smile. She was relieved that the serve was good, but she knew she couldn't let her focus slip.

Alexis nodded curtly; her challenge was unsuccessful. She adjusted her grip on her racket, preparing for the next point. The moment of doubt had passed, and the game resumed its intensity.

Art saw Katrina's moments of ease, but he also saw the hesitation in her footwork and the slight tremors in her hands.

Alexis's return was a deep shot to Katrina's backhand, forcing her to pivot quickly. Katrina reached for it, but her timing was slightly off. The ball clipped the net, but it went over. Katrina breathed a sigh of relief as Alexis scrambled to reach it. and get her racket under the ball just in time.

The volley was clumsy, but it kept the rally going. Katrina's heart raced as she tried to regain her rhythm. She could feel the momentum slipping away, and she knew she couldn't afford another mistake. Alexis, however, was relentless, keeping the pressure on with precise shots to the corners of the court.

Art clenched his fists, chewing his gum while watching Katrina's struggle. He felt the intensity of the moment, knowing that this point could determine the outcome of the match. He wanted to find a way to ease her nerves, but all he could do was watch and hope she could pull through.

The rally continued, with Katrina barely managing to keep up. Alexis played a drop shot, and Katrina lunged to reach it. She got there just in time, but her return was weak, giving Alexis the upper hand. Alexis moved in for the kill, smashing the ball toward the baseline.

Katrina dove to reach it, her body hitting the ground as her racket connected with the ball. It went over the net, but it was a high lob, an easy shot for Alexis. Alexis jumped, delivering a powerful overhead smash that Katrina couldn't hope to reach. The ball hit the court with a decisive thud, and the umpire called the point.

Art felt a pang of disappointment as the crowd erupted in applause. He knew Katrina had fought hard, but the internal turmoil had cost her the match. He saw the frustration on her face as she stood up, brushing off the dirt from her fall. She glanced toward him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger, defeat, and tears.

Katrina knew she had given it her all, but it hadn't been enough. She felt the weight of the loss, knowing that her own doubts and the fight with Art had played a part in her performance. As she walked off the court, she felt a mix of disappointment and a lingering sense of confusion about what had gone wrong—both on and off the court.

Art made his way down to talk to Katrina. She was sitting on the bench, her head down, a towel draped over her shoulders. Art approached, trying to keep his voice steady. "Hey, it's okay," he said, his tone gentle. "It's just one game; you’ve got three more today. You can still turn this around. Just focus on your game, okay? Don't let this get in your head." He finished and tried to embrace her in his arms for some sort of comfort, but his efforts proved futile because before he could fully hug her, she pushed him off.

Katrina looked back at him, her eyes watery, cold, and distant. "Oh, now you're being supportive?" She shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. "What happened to the coach who was so concerned about being professional this morning?"

Art winced, feeling the sting of her words. He knew he deserved it, but it still hurt. "I know, I messed up," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Katrina shook her head, her expression hardening. "I don't need your fake support, Art," she said, standing up. "Just let me play my game."

“Kat, don’t be like that.” He said he was stepping forward, trying to get a hold of her.

“Be like what, Art?” she said, feeling her anger rise. “I shouldn’t act like you treated me as if I were a late-night tinder hookup.” She paused, her lips trembling. “I wouldn’t be like this if you would have had the human decency to treat me with a little respect, even if you regrated it!” She took a breath. “You know what the worst part is; you could have waited for the tournament to be over to shit on me, on us, like that. At least I would’ve left this stupid fucking weekend with a champion title and cup.” She started walking away from the locker rooms. “Guess once your balls are empty, you come to your senses, huh?” She hadn’t even bothered to turn around for the last bit.

"Kat, wait!" he said, grabbing her arm gently but firmly. "Please, just give me a minute."

Katrina turned, her eyes blazing with anger. "What do you want?" she snapped. "Haven't you done enough today? Did you finally decide to be a good coach?"

Art knew he deserved that, but he needed her to hear him out. "Just let me explain," he said, his voice desperate. "Not here. Let's go outside, away from everyone."

She hesitated, clearly still furious, but she didn't pull away. Art led her through a side door and out into the area behind the arena, where it was quiet and they could talk in private. He released her arm, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"Katrina, I'm sorry," he began, his voice soft but urgent. "I'm sorry for everything I said this morning and for telling you it was a mistake. I didn't mean it. I was just... scared."

"Scared?" Katrina's eyes narrowed. "Scared of what? Scared of actually caring about someone? Scared to give up the overdone, nonchalant act you’ve got going for you?"

Art shook his head, struggling to find the right words. "I was scared that I was crossing a line," he said. "I was scared that I was too old for you and that being your coach and being with you would mess up your career. I was worried that we'd end up like... like me and Tashi."

Katrina's anger flared. "I'm not Tashi!" she shouted, stepping closer to him. "So stop comparing me to her; I'm my own person, and I'm nothing like her!"

"I know," Art replied, his voice gentle but firm. "I know you're not her. But that's what scared me. I don't want what happened to me and Tashi to happen to us. I didn't want to mess up your game, your career, or... anything."

Katrina huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, you sure did a good job of that," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look at what happened today! I lost because you couldn't make up your mind about what you wanted!"

Art felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was right. "I know," he said, his voice low. "I was selfish. I shouldn’t have acted like I did. I just didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. But now I see that I hurt you anyway, and that’s the last thing I wanted." He is groveling.

Katrina looked at him, her eyes still blazing. "So, what do you want now?" she asked. "Are you just going to apologize and then go back to being cold and distant?"

Art stepped forward, taking her cheek gently in his hand. "I don't know what we are, Katrina," he said, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But I know I don't want to stop whatever this is. It's special. You make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time, and I can't keep ignoring that."

Katrina's anger softened, her eyes searching for any sign of insincerity. Art felt the connection between them, the tension that had been building for weeks, and he knew he couldn't let it end like this.

"I was wrong this morning," he continued. "I was scared, and I acted like an idiot. But you... you're amazing. You didn't deserve the way I treated you, and I know the game today was my fault. You were distracted because of me, and I'm sorry. But I know you're going to win this. I believe in you. I always have, and that hasn’t changed."

Katrina's expression softened, her anger giving way to something else—something that felt like forgiveness. Art leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, his hand still gently cupping her cheek. She responded with equal intensity, her arms wrapping around his neck as they pressed against the concrete wall.

The kiss was long and intense, filled with the emotions they’d both been suppressing. When they finally pulled back, their breathing was heavy, and their eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding. Art pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before laying his against hers.

“Are you ready to bring another title home, pretty girl?” He says, gazing into her eyes.

She looked up, her eyes glistening with a familiar spark. “You wouldn’t have agreed to coach me if I wasn’t.” She held a soft smile, bringing him in for another kiss.

[mswyrr]

kanthony thoughts: rivals to lovers done right

I usually prefer Enemies to Lovers to Rivals to Lovers. What is the difference I see there, you might ask? Enemies are on opposite sides of a serious, life and death conflict, and rivals have issues with each other, but their rivalry takes place within the realm of everyday life. For me, I can forgive bad behavior within a serious conflict more easily than if the Rivals to Lovers couple goes over the top in a less serious situation.

I said all that to say: Kanthony is Rivals to Lovers done right. Below are the reasons I see for why.

1- The writers keep putting them in situations where everyone around them is feeling competitive - horse racing, the yearly Bridgerton pall-mall game, the hunt. If everyone around them has their blood up and is vying with each other, it's understandable that the situation brings out the competitive energy and Belligerent Sexual Tension they're both feeling for each other. They don't seem to be going over the top because of some inner excessive pettiness; they're caught up in the spirit of the thing and it's unleashing their repressed feelings for each other.

2- They are both competitive but also "good sports" - they conduct themselves honorably in these scenarios. No cheating, no getting too personal in their swipes at each other. They both love to compete and to win and hate to lose and they're bubbling over with repressed passion for each other, but they'll accept defeat without being childish or over the top mean. They maintain a sense of perspective, even when they're being passionate.

3- Their banter is either sincere or appropriately artful. Example: at the soiree, after Kate hears Anthony talking about ladies as chattels to the other men, she takes a huge risk in confronting him about it- this is a very rich and powerful man and she is a smart person, she knows keeping her secrets close is the safest and best way to do things in her situation. But she cares about him and hates that he'd talk like that - so she speaks up. She longs to connect with him, to understand why he could say such a thing. For his part, he cares that she's so hurt by what he said, he cares about her opinion of him. They matter to each other. This is the "sincerity" category of banter.

Kate saves her sharpest words for when they're alone, communicating two things (1) she likes this man enough that she's willing to risk being alone with him and tell him her truth and (2) he's eager to interact to the point of being willing to take that from her. He's willing to say "why do you hate me?" and truly want to earn her good opinion.

The other kind of banter, the appropriately artful kind, is told indirectly through the competitive games they play. For example: at the horse race she uses talking about horses--and how Anthony has simply chosen the one everyone is choosing--to criticize him for seemingly choosing Edwina simply because the Queen has named her the diamond of this season. But their byplay is all indirect - neither is aiming to wound or publicly humiliate the other. They want to win, but not destroy.

Good "Screwball Comedy" era films (1930s-40s) did Rivals to Lovers this way too - the couple would banter *over something* with subtext going harder but the surface not being too personal - that's the art to good Rivals to Lovers, the delicate balance. It can't feel too much, too mean, or too little.

4 - They are quick to have empathy and compassion for each other. They try to truly listen and see things from each other's point of view. The best example of this, to me, is the end of the pall-mall game - sure, they've been competitive. But Kate shares that she sees herself as a guardian for Edwina, like Anthony is for his sisters. And Anthony not only respects that - he says he sincerely wishes to earn her good favor. For her part, when her parting shot of the ball goes awry, landing near Anthony's father's grave, Kate senses something wrong and cares - she tries to understand how Anthony is feeling and why. She regrets if she "crossed the line" and went too personal - she's aware there IS a line and their rivalry doesn't justify wounding him deeply, even unintentionally. Anthony treats her with the same consideration as well.

This point is VITAL to cross from rivals to lovers - they both want to understand and have compassion and empathy for each other. As they learn more and connect more, the rivalry part wanes (though they'll always love being competitive together - in a sportsmanlike way!) and the desire to connect and understand intensifies. It feels organic as the shift happens because both components have been part of things all along - the urge to compete and the urge to care and understand.

5- They are explicitly paralleled as similar people who have hurt the same way (and tried to cope with that pain similarly). This is true of my favorite EtL ships: the baddie is often symbolically representing part of the goodie or a dark mirror of them etc. RtL often foregoes this so the rival is, like... just some random jerk?? But when they're mirrors or connected on a deeper level, compassion and empathy for the other is compassion and empathy for themselves too - vitally important with two people who don't "listen" to their own hearts like Kate and Anthony. They've buried them deep - but they can "hear" by listening to each other and caring. They can process their own feelings that way and learn self-compassion and self expression.

It's really good and if more Rivals to Lovers was done this well I'd love it! The writing here is certainly a template I'd turn to for inspiration if I ever write an RtL pairing.

[mirrors-are-green]

How to make Tim & Damian friends? Through animals. Obviously. Also Damian should've gotten a horse waaaaay before there was a cow. He's a 10 year old aristocratic child. Which likes animals. OF. COURSE. HE. IS. GETTING. A. HORSE.

Damian is a horse girl. No, I will not elaborate.

(It's a sport. Dignified. With animals. Which you get to train. Actually the better you train them, the more successful you are. OF COURSE he would be into it. Come on.)

(horse riding training in Mongolia was actually used as a reward/present for him from Thalia. Still training. Technically. But you all know how it went.)

(bonus points if he gets to bond with a stable man)

What if Tim got a horse from his parents for a late random-rich-folks present? Like a car, but he was too young so... He names her Queenie Buttercup.

What would Tim do with a horse? Well, he researches. Alright. His parents bought him a place in the best stable in the city, but it's so obviously corrupt. Also incompetent. Tim' s gotta take care of that. Obviously. Also some horses are horribly mistreated by their owners. Or sold to the slaughterhouse. He manipulates, blackmails, bribes these people off. And.... he somehow ended up with a full stable some day, without even realizing it or planning it one bit???.

Also he lets all the poor kids in (he hired some people to supervise dw) to the horsies. Obviously. They help around. Get to ride? There is one pair of twins from Crime Alley (most of the kids are from there...) taking care of this one old horse in particular. They're making him the most beautiful looking food, braid his mane, decorate him with frills...

There is a quiet red haired boy, with black eyeliner, heavily tattooed. He always helps the younger kids and is the best at shushing any spooked horse.

There is a great competition who can decorate their saddle the prettiest. Some adults even try to cheat...

There's also one reeeealy ambitious kid. He wants to compete for real. He showed up, determined, fists balled up, at Tim's front door one day. He said that he discovered some of Janet & Jack artifacts were in fact very convincing fakes like this one tile, from example. Supposedly from Hadrian's grave. But it was identified on the basis of three papers, all of which cite in a critical junction a paper which, under closer examination, is clearly just pretending to answer the question of the origin, in fact it was written with the specific person in mind from the very beginning, isn't it strange that....... etc etc. But he won't tell anybody, no siree. He'll spare Tims' family the embarrassment. But only if he gets to ride Queenie Buttercup. And if he's good, get the chance to compete.

(He has a mother who supports him very much. And a stepfather who loves him. And two no no-nonsense older sisters (one is veterinarian, Tim hires her immediately. Pays her VERY handsomely. She always sees through his bullshit and doesn't care about his money or power or status, her brother and animals come first. Damian is Very Impressed and demands to be made aware every time she does something so he can watch or even assist.) who do whatever they can to help him realize his dream. Actually his whole block loves him. When he competes the whole Crime Alley keeps their fingers crossed for him to win. He gets a big celebration when he comes home after winning his first big trophy.)

There's also a girl from Tim's class really into horses. She's overly formal and does karate in her free time. Tim never noticed her before, but now they're besties. They trade statistics and have regular fights about what's the most likely breed to do XYZ.

Damian of course wants the piece of that fairytale dream stable as soon as he finds out (so maybe the stables are not on the manor grounds idk). Also after realizing how many animals Tim has rescued he starts to respect him.

How he found out?

Tim obviously doesn't advertise that he's got a whole stable and is literally changing lives of a bunch of kids. No one cares about his stuff, obviously. He would bore them to tears when talking about it, just like with any other of his hobbies. Also it's normal and totally what anyone would do. Besides, doesn't every upper class family have stables? It's, like, a requirement when you're filthy rich. Like having a yacht.

Also that could make Tim, who always wants to do everything by himself, the most experienced in terms of normal farm adjacent/ manual labor. Like, the Bats are city boys through and through. Jason maybe did idk some construction work when he needed money, but he wouldn't get the chance to actually muck about with horse manure probably ever. So it would be HILARIOUS. He could casually bring it up? His casual knowledge of this kind of work. Everyone would think it was a joke and something he researched, so in poor taste even to pretend to actually have experience with this hardship and act all knowledgeable. Jason would scoff at the silver spoon Tim has been fed with since birth, so what can he possibly know. And he just goes...

"Oh yeah, I run a stable actually. Yes I do the clean ups with everyone. Obviously. So that's why I know about that. Anyway so what are we watching?" And they're just SHOCKED.

Or alternatively

Tim is of course the owner of like, 6 cats. Actually there was just one stable cat at the beginning but she had kittens so... yeah it's 6 now. Yeah we take care of them. They're cute. And he just casually brings it up to Damian?

Tim: "I totally get making so many pictures of your pet. I have, like, five thousand pictures of my cats. I sometimes stalk them, even. To get better shots. And they look so adorable in each of them!"

Damian: "You. Have cats. As in. Multiple."

Tim: "Oh I've never told you, sorry, completely forgot haha. Do you wanna see the pi- *grabs his phone*?

Damian: "That. Was. The. Stupidest. Question. I've. Ever. Heard. OF COURSE I WANT TO SEE. SHOW ME NOW OR PERISH.

Damian, some time later: And just as I was looking at Ismat Hasna...

Tim: Woohoo stop. I don't know what you're talking about. None of my horses are named like that?

Damian, completely seriously: Well obviously. If she was originally named like that, it would mean you have some common sense and I wouldn't have to rename her. But, alas. You named the most majestic horse on this plane of existence QUEENIE. BUTTERCUP. So. She needed an intervention from someone more sensible than you. Obviously.

Tim:

Damian: You're welcome, by the way. I already corrected her paperwork.

And they just bond and start being friendly towards each other and Dick is soooo proud, Bruce has no idea what/how (he suspects blackmail or witchcraft), Jason and Tim team up to support Crime Alley kiddos in pursuit of their hobbies. Jason got literal tears in his eyes when he saw, in real time, some harmless contact with animals and getting a chance to take care of something slowly, slowly breaks the circle of violence these kids were stuck in.

His next charity project is some martial arts centre, an indoor basketball court, paying some good trainers to just believe in those kids. It works wonders.

Idk just some thoughts I would be very glad if someone made it into a proper story or even help me develop the concept fuller... just tag me!!

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective 

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved. 

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained. 

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event. 

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded. 

���y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded. 

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily. 

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better. 

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased. 

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away. 

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname. 

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed. 

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!” 

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the  meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed. 

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed. 

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.  

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes. 

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me. 

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin? 

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her. 

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands. 

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face. 

“You’re dead”

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[roodles03]

Damn Finals...

I think we've all been in Hunter's position before. Hunter would 100% have test anxiety, so finals would be a nightmare for him. He'd probably relapse back to his Golden Guard studying habits. No rest, no breaks, no food. Just pure focus on studying. Darius and Eberwolf have to interviene and make sure he's taking care of himself and assure him he doesn't have to be perfect.

Fun Fact: I spent over half the time making this just writing out all the text. It was more effort than I expected, that's for sure.

For those wondering what everything says, here's the list.

Potions Textbook:

Laughter Serum

Laughter serum is a potion that makes anyone who drinks it incredibly delirious. It is very powerful, even in small doses. The drinker will not remember anything they did while affected once the potion wears off.

Love Potion

Love potions inflict intense feelings of love. They only work when the drinker is already in love. Asexuals are immune. This potion has been controversial since its invention. Being made illegal to sell and brew since the Deadwardian Era.

Construction Textbook;

Construction Glyphs

Power glyphs can be used for all types of magic. In Construction magic, power glyphs greatly enhance the magical capabilities of the wearer. Any spell casted will be up to triple the strength then it would be without the power glyph. Construction power glyphs have been highly controversial since its invention. Wearing one during a witches duel is considered cheating, making the wearer automatically lose. Construction power glyphs are also outwardly and completely banned in ALL magic sports.

Abominations Textbook

Abomination and Tech

Within the past 150 years, magic and technology have been brought together. Abomination magic was heavily by the Blight family for generations. Notably, within the past 20 years, Alador Blight significantly advanced Abomination technology. Abomatons are the most advanced Abomination magic technology in history. In the Empire era, the Emperor's Coven funded the development of Abomatons for the Day of Unity. In the Republic Era, Abomatons have been made illegal for safety.

Hunter's Notes (Most are obscured)

Laughter serum makes you go cuckcoo. You don't remember anything once it wares off. Love potions are ille-

Power glyphs can be from every kind of magic. The most contentious being construction power glyphs

The Blight family was key to advancing tech with abomination magic for entire generations.

• Abomatons

Magic and technology are starting to go hand and hand. Alador was big for the progression of abomination magic.

Construction glyphs make you much more powerful. They are Contentious and considered illegitimate in witches duels and all magic sports

Background:

Bonus:

Notes:

Does gym have a final? I feel like gym would have a final...

Why the HECK is the school system designed like this? A test at the VERY end of all you learned for up to 11 classes? WHY.

I HATE THIS STUPID FUCKING CLASS

I'm so screwed for potions just end me now

DO NOT FAIL the abomination final. What would Darius say?

Don't even bother studying for wild magic you tryhard. You know everything about that! Studying for everything for 10 other classes is ENOUGH.

YOU CANNOT FAIL.

I feel like I'm studying like I did back as the Golden Guard

TITAN. THIS. SUCKS.

HELP.

[guywrestlingaddiction]

Double Team (brief) Triumph: Stinger v Cage Thunder & Lightning Rod (bgeast.com)

We all love an underdog story, but I think deep down what we truly love is a story where our stunningly gorgeous underdog thinks he out muscles two supervillains, only to get humiliated in the end.

Stinger v Cage Thunder & Lightning Rod (bgeast.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.  

The Backstory

Our hero enters the ring sporting the optimism of a champ with a simple demand - he will take both villains on but wants to ensure that just one bad guy in the ring at a time.  Yeah, good luck buddy with your opponents fighting fair and all.  

Ladies and gentlemen, our strapping, lean hero versus two muscled heels.

And it's a fair(ish) fight at first with only one villain in the ring at a time.  Frankly, there doesn't even seem to be a reason to fight dirty when you're two badass villains against one hero.  

Stretch out our hero and show off that ripped torso.

Cage Thunder checking to make sure those abs aren't painted on.  Yup they are rock solid, at least for now that is. 

But sooner rather than later they both cheat and gang up on our hero, and why do they cheat? Say it with me now, simply because they can!

The Double Team

A double team on its own would be bad enough but now our hero is unmasked and is robbed of his dignity.  Reese's red, flushed face simply cannot contain the pain and embarrassment he feels.

Not content with mere victory, our villains need to humiliate the young Stinger/Reese.  Holds are applied longer than they need to and that smooth body is manhandled more than necessary, all of this to prove a point; they do it simply because they can.  

The Triumph

Despite overwhelming odds, our hero overcomes his opponents not through skill or strength but by exploiting their major flaw - their hubris.  You see, Reese has been studying them and knows these guys want him bad, so bad in fact they'll let their guard down at an opportune moment...

I mean look at the chest on Reese, they man may be lithe but he's got some power behind him. 

Our hero celebrates his impossible victory against two legendary heels, but no sooner does he proclaim that good has overcome evil when trouble starts brewing underfoot.  You see our hero has his own flaws and is equally susceptible to hubris as the poor guy gets cocky while tasting his triumph. 

Reese: How do you like that? Two on one and I still kicked both of your ass'?!

It should come as no surprise that in the end, little Reese Wells aka the Stinger, could not hold back both supervillains.  One supervillain is tough enough but two is impossible, especially not when both were enraged with defeat.  With the 'official' match over, Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod unleash their full heel mode, all over poor Reese. 

And with that the match is over.  Now I'm sure we all like to think of ourselves as good and just, but our bad guys know us better than that. They know exactly where our true emotions stand and knew that this ending is what we really wanted all along. 

[arc-misadventures]

While on a patrol with Jessica (green lantern), Diana (wonder woman) and Karen Starr (power girl), Jaune is asked by Diana what FMK (or SMB) means

Jaune: MFK VII

Whilst on patrol about the city of, Vale, a quartet of Hunter’s a really, really bored. So in the hope to alleviate their collective boredom one among them decides to ask a rather leading question.

~~~

Diana: Bored…

Jaune: So bored…

Kara: He board, she board, they all board.

Jessica: All aboard…

Jaune: I was gonna say that!

DJK: Hehehe!

Kara: But, seriously this is so boring!

Diana: I know! I kinda want to have a, Grimm attack me just to elevate this boredom…

Jessica: I haven’t seen a single, Grimm all day.

Jaune: Consider that a good thing, means there’s no, Grimm around, and people are less likely going to be attacked by them.

Kara: But, it’s so boring!

Diana: The best battle there is, is the battle you do not need to fight.

Jaune: Agreed. People will be at ease if we told them there are no, Grimm around, then that there are, Grimm about.

Jessica: Well can we at least find something to do! We’ve been walking around this forest for hours! I’m sooo bored!

Jaune: Well, maybe one of you can think of something to do then.

Kara: Okay… Oh, here’s an idea! Hey, Jaune~?

Jaune: I just felt a chill…

Kara: Oh don’t be so paranoid, Jaune. I just want to know something.

Jaune: That being?

Kara: Between the three of us; Me, Jessica, and Diana, who would you, MFK?

Jaune: What?! I’m not answering that!

Kara: Oh yes you are~!

Jaune: No I’m not! W-Why do you want me to answer that?

Kara: I’m curious; I mean you’re quite a handsome guy…

Jaune: You think I’m handsome?

Kara: And, we’re a duo of smoking hot babes, and one absolutely adorable little girl…

Jessica: Hey!

Kara: One can’t help, but wonder if you could, MFK one of us who would be what, and why?

Jaune: Do you guy’s serious want to know that?

Diana: I have to admit, I’ve always been a little curious on who you would date among the three of us.

Jaune: Seriously?

Diana: Seriously. I’ve heard plenty of couples have been made between team members. So that being said, who would you like to date among the three of us?

Jaune: What? That’s … I…?! Jessica! Please tell me you’re not thinking the same thing as well.

Jessica: W-Well… I-I’m a little curious myself really…

Jaune: Oh… Well, I’m not going to tell you anything!

Diana: Oh really~?

Diana pulls out her her golden lasso, The Lasso of Truth before snapping it between her hands as she smiled smugly at him.

Jaune: …

Jaune: You have serious trust issues…

Diana: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Jaune: She’s used that lasso on some cheating ex hasn’t she?

Kara: I’ve seen her do it. Man that was something… That lady was…

Jaune: Crazy?

Kara: I would say, psychotic.

Jaune: Yeash… Okay fine I’ll do it… But, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you, Kara.

Kara: What?! Why are you going to kill me, a smoking hot blonde babe?!

Jessica: You said that with such ease. Do you hate, Karen, or something?

Diana: Are you gonna tell us why, or do I have to hogtie you?

Jaune: Don’t even think about it princess. Here, take a look at this.

Jaune pulled out his scroll before handing it over to, Kara who’s eyes shot out wide in shock, before showing the others.

Jessica: Is this your family?

Jaune: Yep.

Diana: You have seven sisters?

Jaune: Technically eight, one of them is married so, eight sisters.

Kara: And, I look like seven of them?

Jaune: Yeah, pretty much.

Kara: Yeah, I can see why you would, ‘kill’ me. But, Jaune think of all the fun we could have if you didn’t~!

Jaune: If I had a bucket of ice water I’d douce you in it.

Kara: Spoil sport.

Jaune: Okay, I would then fuck you, Diana.

Diana: Oh really?

Jaune: The growing sexual tension between us is eventually going to boil over, and we’re just gonna go at it one day.

Diana: Bet it will be fun if it does~!

Kara: Sexual tension; What sexual tension?

Jaune: Oh we’ve been butting heads ever since we were partnered together, it’s only gotten worse since I was made team leader, and she wasn’t. Because she’s always trying to be the leader, when she isn’t. And, she wouldn’t do a good job at that.

Diana: Like you are a good leader; You can barely stand in a fight against me, how do you think you do against an actual, Grimm?

Jaune: Okay, you’re a superhuman, with super strength, invulnerability, and you can fly, these are things that, Kara also has. And, Jessica also has her magical green ring thingy that makes it so she can also fly, and make what ever she wants. And, I’m just a guy with a sword, and shield. And, I’m the leader of this band of misfits, says a lot about why I was made team leader.

Diana: Such as?

Jaune: That they wanted brain not brawn to lead the team you muscle head.

Diana: Another word out of you, and I’ll put you in your place…!

Kara: Ya, on top of, Diana!

JDJ: WHAT?!

Diana: Are you saying I’m a bottom?!

KJ: Yes.

Diana: That’s bullshit! I am totally a bottom!

JKJ: …

Diana: D-Did I say, ‘bottom?’

Jessica: Yes…

Diana: Well that’s not true, what I meant to say is that I would totally bottom for, Jaune!

Diana: …

Diana: I did not mean to say that! I’d meant to say, I’d bottom for, Jaune! Zeus ass?! Why did I say that?!

Jessica: Uhh… Diana… y-you’re holding the lasso in your hand.

Diana looked down, and saw the glowing golden light of the, ‘Lasso of Truth’ indicating that she was indeed, telling the truth.

Diana: …

Diana: Hera give me strength…

Kara: Does this happen often?

Diana: It happens…

Jaune: So… are we going to talk about this, or…?

Diana: No, no we will not.

Jaune: Okay then. So, after a great deal of deliberation, I shall marry, Jessica.

Jessica: YES!

Jaune: Yes, what?

Jessica: Yes, I will marry you!

Kara: Uhh… Jessy… You’re not actually getting married, you know that right?

Jessica: W-We’re not…?

Kara: No, no you’re not.

Jessica: Nawww man… But, I wanna marry the sexy blonde adonis…

Jaune: …

Jaune: Okay, this has been a fascinating endeavour that I shall immediately start mentally repressing, let’s move on!

Diana: Yes, let’s move on!

Jessica: Yes, lets!

Kara: But, Jaune, if I didn’t remind you of your sisters, would you do me!

Jaune: Oh, I’d totally bang you against a tree right now if they weren’t here.

Jessica: WHAT?!

Kara: Oh, really~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Diana…

Diana: Yes~?

Jaune: You ever wrap your lasso around me again, I’ll show you what I learned in the boy scouts. Okay?

Diana: Noted.

Jaune: Okay, lets go. There’s, Grimm to kill, and if I can’t find one, I’ll kill, Kara first.

Kara: Excuse me, what?!

[etherealhoneybee777]

The Tragedy of Teru: An Unnecessarily Long Thesis

I’ve seen some people ask: why the sudden change in Teru? Why did he suddenly go from a total menace who was okay with choking Mob to unconsciousness to a good guy/best friend type whose moral axis now completely revolves around Mob? I’ve seen some people claim that Teru’s redemption was so sudden that it’s unconvincing.

I don’t think the redemption was a sudden shift in Teru’s character. Actually, it’s the most natural progression for him. Consider Teru’s life circumstances. His parents completely abandoned him with no remorse. It wasn’t even because of Claw, they were just “busy” and moved overseas. He has no one to look after him at home. His relationships at school are largely superficial. He probably has severe attachment issues because of childhood neglect. He has no connections, no one truly rooting for him.

It’s an extremely shitty situation—but Teru convinces himself that he’s okay. In fact, he’s better than okay. He’s doing great. He’s doing the best because he’s better than everyone else—he has psychic powers, he’s popular, he’s talented in pretty much everything. Why would he need people to love and care for him when he has everything else “average” people dream of?

And so Teru’s entire emotional state revolves around a shaky thesis: that he’s better than everyone else. The main character. Main characters don’t need families. They don’t need love and support. Teru’s too superior for those things. And he HAS to be superior, because if he’s not, if he’s like everyone else, then he has to acknowledge the facts: that his parents left him, that there’s no clear cut purpose for his life, he’s completely alone, and there’s nothing he can do about it.  

If Teru’s the main character, then trauma and abandonment are just part of a tragic backstory---necessary hardships that will pave the way for all the great and superior things that Teru is destined to do. Whereas “average” people don’t have tragic backstories. When “average” people are abused and abandoned, it’s not part of some epic tale. It’s just sad. If Teru’s average, then the trauma is meaningless. Purposeless. 

And the weight of that is just too much for him to bear.

And so he dates girls he doesn’t like, and he cheats on tests, and he wins at sports, and he runs a gang. And he copes. For a while, it works.

And then it doesn’t.

Enter Shigeo Kageyama.

Mob’s existence rocks Teru’s world. The idea that there’s another natural child esper as powerful as him shatters his core belief that psychic powers made him the main character. Not only that, but Mob withstands all of Teru’s attacks, and refuses to fight back--a move that Teru finds insulting.

When Mob insists that psychic powers are average, and that Teru’s average, Teru is enraged. (“You’re the only one who can make that point. And that’s why your very existence pisses me off!”)

Finally Mob puts the nail in the coffin: “You and I are the same. We both have no self-confidence.” Up until this point, I believe that NO ONE has genuinely seen through Teru like Mob does, or, at least, they didn’t point it out. Mob sees Teru for who he is: a sad and insecure kid with no real connections. And THAT’S what makes Teru put him in a chokehold.

In a move of infinite kindness, Mob refuses to use his powers against Teru. Only when Mob is knocked unconscious are his true powers revealed. Teru then sees how outmatched he was from the very beginning, and how intentional Mob’s pacifism was towards him.

Teru did nothing but try to hurt Mob, but Mob refused to hurt him back. This is probably the most intentional love and care Teru’s received in a long time.

It’s a turning point. Because here’s the thing about Teru: he latches on to any gesture of genuine kindness and holds onto it for dear life. Mob’s kindness is enough to make Teru completely reject his old ideals.

Teru’s emotional state depended on the idea that he’s superior, but now that this belief has been dismantled, he needs a new life purpose to fill the vacuum, something else to distract from the loneliness in his life. And Mob has given Teru a new purpose: to be a good person. A kind person. Teru wants to be Kageyama’s rival—not in terms of psychic power—but in terms of kindness. (That’s why Teru claims to have won against ???% even though he’s clearly overpowered. He was talking about winning a contest of kindness, about repaying the kindness Mob showed him when they met by refusing to use his psychic powers to hurt ???%---even when ???% was hurting him).

So, Teru’s new purpose: kindness and doing good for the world. It’s a good purpose to have. And Teru is good at being kind. He risks his life to fight Claw just because he cares about Mob. He takes down Claw’s splinter organizations all on his own. He fills in at spirits and such for probably negligible pay when Mob trains for the race. He gives advice. He practices intentional humility (sometimes). He always says thank you.

And, of course, he puts his life on the line to stop ???%’s rampage and get through to Mob. He almost dies to save every last civilian.

Teru is good at being good. He is the type of person who spins every stray thread of kindness he receives into gold. He multiplies every rare gesture of love tenfold. It’s a beautiful example of how the human spirit can withstand so much neglect and agony and evil and still come out good in the end. Teru’s name means “brilliance,” and his whole character is about shining a brilliant light into the darkness that surrounds him.

As much as I’d like to believe that’s the whole picture, it’s not. There’s a darker, sadder side to Teru’s redemption

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that Teru cares about his friends very much and is a genuinely kind and good person. BUT that’s not the only reason he’s kind and good. I believe that Teru is so obsessed with being good/putting Mob on a pedestal because “being good” is his new coping mechanism.

See, his coping mechanism before was being superior and having refined psychic powers. But, since Kageyama dismantled that, he found a new purpose: being good. And he uses the pursuit of being good to distract from his empty apartment, neglectful parents, and lack of personal connections.

And isn’t there something so utterly heartbreaking about that? Think about Teru single-handedly taking down all of Claw’s splinter organizations. Think of him spending constant hours refining his psychic powers to be able to beat the bad guys. Going into the forest to meditate to “improve” himself. Training the awakening lab kids. Working out until he is more ripped than any 13-year-old should be. All of it, he probably enjoys, but is it not also a distraction? Is he doing these things solely to become better or also to busy himself and fill the days? Anything to not be by himself, tiny and alone in an empty apartment with strange noises and the bleak reality that there is no one, no one who will even know if Claw sneaks into his house and kills him.

Teru is a tragic character. At the beginning of the story, he is a menace who is completely alone. He is then redeemed. He orients his life towards being good--and gains some meaningful connections, but at the end of the story, Teru is still functionally alone most of the time. Though they care for each other very much, Mob and Teru don’t really hang out in canon. (Fanbook) They’re not even on a first name basis. Teru comes by Reigen’s office sometimes, but not often. He still has no one at home to care for him.

At the end of it all,—months and months later—Teru still has to ask for the occasional hang out with Mob. He is sipping tea sadly when Mob talks about his friendship with Tsubomi, jealous. And then he will go home to an empty apartment, alone. There is no one to take care of him when he is sick. There is no one to discipline him, or tell him “no,” or to prepare him for his first date, or to help him apply for college.

And doesn’t that go against the usual abandoned child narrative? Where the abandoned and neglected child ends the story with so many deep connections and so much love pouring into them that they can barely breathe? Where is that love for Teru? He is doing everything right. He is repaying all of the love and kindness he has ever received, so why is he still alone?

Teru never talks about any friendships besides Mob or adult influences besides Reigen. I truly believe Teru is still relying on his sparse interactions with Mob and Reigen to stay afloat emotionally. And he’s not used to kindnesses---when Reigen takes him to the amusement park, he’s overly thankful (”Reigen-san, you went to all this trouble”) And Teru literally idolizes Mob for the kindness Mob has given him. But this is kind of heartbreaking too.

No child should have to subsist on stray inklings of love and support. Love should not be a limited resource. One of the reasons that Teru treasures kindnesses so much is because he knows that gestures of love towards him are few and far between.

It’s no life for a kid. Teru should have a support system that gives him so much love casually that he’s not afraid to let it slip through his fingers. He shouldn’t have to be overly thankful for kind gestures, he doesn’t have to say “you went to all this trouble,” after someone takes him on a fun summer excursion. Teru should be loved so much that he forgets to say thanks. Love should be an expectation, not just a treasure.

Maybe this is why I’m constantly reading fics where Teru is adopted or where he spends a lot of time with the Kageyamas. Because in canon (especially manga canon), Teru’s ending is incredibly tragic. I really love the way ONE wrote him, and I’m not complaining about the ending---I think it’s great. But I want to see this boy happy. There’s something so sad about someone who loves so much but never gets what they deserve. 

But fanfiction exists! So write him having happy moments. Write Teru at the water park. Write Teru being hugged by Reigen before his graduation. Write him planting a tree. Write him having his first kiss in the rain. Write him going to cosmetology school and becoming a hairdresser. Write Reigen saving up for Teru’s college fund. 

Write Teru experiencing all of the love and joy and beautiful things because he deserves them. I will read all of your fic just put it in my inbox. I will do anything to see this boy be loved.

[multific]

At Last

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

„We are in an arranged marriage and you want to pretend that you care! So what if I flirt with someone?”

„We are married Princess, you have duties-"

„Duties?! Oh really, so what about you then? What happened to your duties when women flirt with you?”

„That’s different.”

„Of course, because you are a man right? You can go around and cheat on me but I shouldn’t even dare look at another man.” you wanted to laugh. How dare he?

"You are a married woman. You are mine. And women don't flirt with me."

"They do, don't pretend as if you are just too oblivious to notice." you huffed as you sat down on your bed. 

How dare he act this way?

"They don't flirt with me, women are afraid of me." he siad as he sat on the other side of the bed, his back to you,

"They are not afraid, if anything they want your titles and dick more than anything. Why would you think they are not flirting?"

"My missing eye scares them, I know it."

Oh, so that was this is about, his never ending doubt and insecurity regarding his eye.

"Don't be ridiculous. They see your handsome face first.” you said with a very calm voice. “I know I did."

"You did?" Aemond almost turned to look at you, but he didn't, he kept looking at the fireplace as the fire crackled. But his attention was on you.

"Of course. I remember the day we met, it was really hot, I remember mentioning it to my mother how you can be wearing dark leather and be fine. But then I saw you, you look like a real King, powerful as you stood there. I didn't even notice your eyepatch or scar. I couldn't care less, your tall frame and the way you held yourself hid all that from me."

"Are you lying?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I have no reason to. It pains me that you don't see yourself like I see you."

"Is that why you flirt with men?"

"I only flirted with one, only because that lady seemed very attracted to you. I wanted to make you jealous. And it somewhat worked." This time when Aemond turned to look at you, you were already watching him. "I do find myself very attracted to you, Aemond. But you are right, we are in an arranged marriage, and no matter how much I wish for it to be real, It isn't." you looked down at your hands as you let out a sigh.

"It could be. It could be real. Your mother married you to me because of my name, I know that but I also know that you do not care about my name or status. I see it in you Y/N, you care about me, but my insecurities pushed you away, keep pushing you away."

"We could start anew Aemond. We can, I believe in us. And if your feelings for me are half as strong as mine towards you, it will work."

"My feelings for you, My Love, are greater than any power on this Earth."

"Than it will work. I believe our marriage can be real and we don't have to live is misery."

You smiled as you moved onto the bed, closer to him as you grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I would like that, very much, My Queen." this made you laugh a little.

"I love you, Aemond." you said as you looked into his eye, letting him know you mean every word.

"And I love you as well, Y/N." this time, it was he who leaned over to place a kiss to your lips.

Arranged marriage or not, Targaryen or not, you loved this man with all of your heart.

And he, loved you just as much if not more.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​ @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[deusvervewrites]

AU where the world of MHA is a full dive MMO, with top heroes also being the best players.

My Hero Online is the newest hit Full Dive MMO based around a world of Superheroes and special powers. The game advertises itself on not only Full Dive gameplay but the customizable 'Quirk' system that allows you to create your own unique superpower by combining thousands of preset parts. E-Sports are a big deal, with a national leaderboard.

Midoriya wants the game due to a strong desire for escapism on account of junior-high bullying. Why is he being bullied in a No-Quirks(?) AU, you might ask, if you've never been to middle school. When he finally gets it, he's approached in-game during the tutorial by another player, inviting Midoriya to a 'secret area.' Midoriya, not really being a gamer before this, doesn't know enough to spot the red flags.

The 'secret area' is out of bounds and not meant for players to be there, but the other player is a hacker. They genuinely meant to hang out and goof around with exploits and cheats, but, uh. There seems to be two digimon-adjacent asks at the top of this post. I hope you weren't attached to your body, Midoriya, because you're about to lose it.

To cut a long story short, Midoriya got grabbed by some kind of glitch entity while logging out of the game (to avoid said entity) and found himself back in his room but, uh, not quite physical anymore. Cyber Sleuth refers to this as a half-cyber body*. I'm taking a few liberties with it though.

Midoriya would actually kind of like his body back though, it's his and he is attached to it. But he's not going to be able to get it back without diving deep into My Hero Online and learning more about what's below its surface.

+1. Midoriya is locked into his first character as a result of the glitched logout that took his body. It also gave him the Quirk, Glitch, which doesn't appear to be a real Quirk that you can create through the character creation system, and seems to border on warping reality within the game. And it might be getting stronger.

*For those of you who've never seen it, the half-cyber body is a blue silhouette of the person covered in a shifting pattern of squares resembling the particle effect used for digital stuff. However, by adjusting some data, this body can be customized to appear normal.

[evalolxo]

Love me Like you

pairing - randy orton x reader

summary - you and randy broke up on mutual terms and you try to get over him with another superstar but the viper always comes back

warnings - fluff, randy being a twat, mentions of sex, swearing, reader has dirty thoughts, cheating

word count - 880 words

so baby, baby come and save me, don’t need those other lovers when i got my number one

“i bet he never treated you like this, huh?” roman asked me as he gave me a kiss and quickly turned away to talk to his cousins jey and jimmy.

i mentally sighed as i thought back to how i got in this predicament to start with.

randy and i had just broken up and i was drinking my feelings away at the hotel bar, that’s when i noticed the tribal chief, one thing led to another and i was laying naked with him. now we just go on dates and calls me his girlfriend to look good.

and to answer his question, randy never treated me like this, he treated me way fucking better.

randy and i dated for 4 years and roman and i have been dating for 6 months now.

i heard cheering from the room and everyone turned to see randy orton walking in the door with a brand new suit on.

i felt myself gawking at the way he looked in the suit, the way it hugged his muscles perfectly and how they showed his crotch off an appropriate amount but just enough to make me miss his cock. as if i didn’t already.

“hey baby” i was snapped out my thoughts and stare by roman who was now crouching in front of me with his cousins and heyman all looking at me disappointed.

“yeah?” i asked roman, pretending my full attention was on him while i could see out the corner of my eye randy was now watching the interaction.

randy orton made it his life’s mission to show he missed me and there was no one in the business, hell the whole word that didn’t know randy orton missed y/n l/n.

our breakup may have been mutual on the fact we didn’t have enough time with our schedules for each other and it was frustrating both mentally, physically and sexually so we decided to break up but there’s not a moment i don’t miss him.

“just wanted to make sure you’re okay, i know it must be hard seeing him” roman told me putting a hand on my knee, i had to fight the urge to roll my eyes into the back of my head at his words and demeanor.

“shit i gotta go for my match, i’ll see you later baby girl, i love you” he told me before leaving with the rest of the bloodline present and as he left i let out a sigh and an eye roll i had been holding in.

i heard a snicker and looked up to see randy watching me, i couldn’t fight the small smile that painted my face at the fact he was acknowledging me.

“can’t believe you replaced me with the tribal chief” he commented walking over to me while smirking and i rolled my eyes playfully when he sat down next to me, everyone had left the room to watch roman’s match so it was me and randy alone.

“you know you’ll always be my number one randy” i told the man who was staring at me with a smirk but his eyes were full of love and adoration.

“damn right, and you’ll always be my number one too” randy told me making me smile at him, he was nervous telling me this.

randy orton had always been nervous around me, my one power.

neither of us addressed the multiple elephants in the room.

me having a boyfriend already, getting back together, or the fact his hand had traveled to my thigh.

the sparks that flew through my leg to my stomach through his touch was a feeling i missed and i closed my eyes and smiled into the feeling.

“i love you” randy clearly stated and i stared at him surprised, he addressed an elephant.

“i love you too randy, i want to be with you but it’ll just be the same, and i’m dating roman” i explained and randy shook his head at me making me confused.

“it’ll be the same at the fact we are extremely in love with each other and we’ll be the power couple of the sports entertainment business and don’t act as if you don’t hold back screaming my name while roman fucks you” randy whispered the last part but the rest was clear as day to me, after explaining the butterflies i always got in my stomach returned for the first time in a year.

“it’ll be the same in the way we’ll have no time” i told him firmly, as much as i wanted to fall back into his arms and for him to hold me forever, our work would get in the way again.

“i’ll be waiting for you, till my dying day” randy stated before placing his hand on my cheek making me fully face him before he planted a soft kiss on my lips, the same lips that kissed me after i won all my championships, the same lips that kissed me as i cried and after i cried, the same lips that would wait for us.

[andiatas]

Maybe I need to learn Swedish and immerse myself in all things SRF. Are they generally messy or boring?

Depends on how you define things. I would say they're boring 95% of the time, but then when there's a scandal, it's a scandal

Here are a few highlights:

In 1914, Gustaf V gave a speech to the people in which he opposed the government's politics & called for stronger Armed Forces (side note but it's a well-known fact that Gustaf was very worried about the growing tensions "on the continent" & I mean, the dude was right to be concerned). This led to a political crisis & the last political influence the monarch had was stripped. It's unclear who actually wrote the speech; some speculate it was Victoria since it was very well known that she was unhappy about the fact that she, as Queen, didn't have any real power.

In 1936, a woman named Anna wanted to file for divorce from her husband, Kurt. The reason? Her motivation was that her husband had cheated on her with King Gustaf V. This was during a time when homosexuality was illegal & divorce papers were open to the public, so even the hint that the monarch himself might engage in "homosexual acts"? Unthinkable! Long story short, the Court tried to come to an agreement with Anna & Kurt, but the couple continued to blackmail the Court for more & more money. In 1947, Kurt published a book about the "injustices" he had faced, but the majority of the copies of the book were bought by police. In 1951, after Gustaf V had died, Kurt wrote to the Chancellor of Justice to complain, upon which the Chancellor started an investigation. The investigation found that Kurt's "accusations were largely unfounded, but it was also clear that the Royal Court paid out large sums and took other measures with the apparent aim of silencing him." One year later, the Prosecutor-General charged Kurt & he was sentenced to 8 years in prison for extortion of the Royal Court. The whole thing is now nicknamed The Haijby Affair (after Kurt & Anna's last name) & has even been made into a movie.

In 1945, Prince Carl Johan asked for permission to marry the divorced journalist Kerstin Wijkman. They had met in 1939 & the prince fell head-over-heels for Kerstin, who couldn't give a sh*t about him at first. Gustaf V denied his grandson's request & the Royal Court tried to prevent the wedding from taking place by revoking Wijkmark's passport. When that didn't work, they started pressuring the US embassy, which meant that Carl Johan's cousin Folke Bernadotte was dragged into the whole thing. In the end, the two got married in 1946 & that meant that the Prince from then on was known as Carl Johan Bernadotte.

In the late 1950s, Princess Birgitta did something as controversial (for Swedish royal standards) as continuing her education with upper secondary studies. She studied at the School of Sport and Health Sciences for two years, where she met hockey & football player Sven Tumba. They denied it then, but rumours of a romance between the two swirled. However, decades later, they both wrote about the romance (which lasted for about a year) in their memoirs & Princess Birgitta was interviewed in a documentary about Tumba. Among other things, she reminisced about one time when the tabloids rang the doorbell & she had to hide in the wardrobe for about 10 minutes before Tumba had managed to chase them away.

We have Carl Gustaf's younger years... That man loved & still loves to party. This caused concern during his time as Crown Prince & then at the beginning of his time as monarch. He was seen by many as an immature womanizer of a party prince who, therefore, was unfit to rule. The Social Democrat-led government famously threatened with "We're one penstroke away from a Republic!" (which, if you ask me, was more PR than an actual threat, but then again, this was like 10-20 years before I was born, so...)

Speaking of Carl Gustaf, in 1989, he made the Norwegians angry by criticising their PM & the fact that they allowed seal hunting. He commented: "If Prime Minister Gro Harlem Brundtland cannot take care of the seal problem, how will she be able to take care of the Norwegian people?"

Then there was the praising of Sultan Hassanal Bolikiah in 2004 during a state visit to Brunei (which to be fair, he just did his job & repeated what the Foreign Office told him to say).

In 2008, he caused a national outcry because not only did Prince Carl Philip shoot an elk during the annual royal hunt, but the monarch also decided to voice his opinion on the very sensitive topic of wolf hunting (no, seriously, it's an incredibly sensitive topic & not one to bring up during family dinners). Apart from getting in trouble with the public, Carl Gustaf also got in trouble with his patronage, WWF.

Do I even need to bring up 2010 & "Have you ever visited a strip or sex club?" which caused him to hit a record low in popularity. At least it gave us this iconic meme.

Honourary mention goes to when Prince Daniel (then only Daniel Westling) needed kidney surgery, so Crown Princess Victoria called her "brothers", Crown Prince Haakon & Crown Prince Frederik & was like "Hey, can you guys help me with a thing? Oh yeah, nothing big, just tricking all of the Nordic press so my fiancée can get surgery in peace." So, to cause a distraction, the three went on a trip to the Arctic while Daniel was admitted to the hospital. However... he was spotted by someone; a journalist called up the Court & was like, "I know, I will publish this; just give me a comment." Their ruse was up, so instead of pretending everything was fine & distracting the press so they couldn't publish about what was happening in Stockholm, Victoria spoke about how difficult it was & that she (obviously) was worried but that Haakon & Frederik were very supportive of her & a big help during that trip.

In 2013, just like in 2023, he got into trouble for "not wanting Victoria as heir". During an interview, the reporter asked if he was still upset about the constitutional change, to which he answered: "Of course. I think it's simple. A constitutional law that works retrospectively, that's weird."

In 2014, Princess Madeleine's apartment was renovated. What was supposed to cost 2.5 million SEK ended up costing 6.8 million SEK. Then, in 2018-2019 renovation works started again, which ended up costing around 5 million SEK. A wall between Madeleine's apartment & the apartment next door was going to be taken down & the family wanted a walk-in closet, a new bedroom, a bathroom & a wardrobe (different one from the named walk-in closet, so two wardrobes were on the wishlist). This ended up creating an argument between the National Property Board & the Royal Court, where the former thought Madeleine had "too high standards". The Royal Family didn't end up paying from their own pockets & this story has now become known as the time the Swedish taxpayers paid for Madeleine's walk-in closet.

If you're still reading, thank you & I hope you enjoyed all of this tea!

[websterss]

𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒, 𝐖𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 — 𝐓𝐎𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: I was wondering if you can, I could request Tom Holland Peter Parker x reader where in the nwh scene instead of aunt may dying it’s the reader. I just love how in that scene Peter was emotional and the way he said “you’re ok, you’re ok”, made me cry like so bad I hope this makes sense I have so many ideas I wanna share but I just choose this one.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): ANGST, mentions of dying, mentions of blood, SOME fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 8,883

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Tom!Peter Parker x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐭 - 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“So the chip in the back of Doc’s neck was designed to protect his brain from the A-I system that’s controlling these tentacles, but if you look here…” Peter turned the hologram human model around so the back was facing them. He pulled out the hologram chip and held it out to Norman. “The chip is fried and rather than him being in control of the tentacles, the tentacles are now in control of him.” Peter explained further. “Which I guess explains why he is so miserable all the time!” He sighed but turned to the door just in time to meet your eyes as you entered the room. “Hey.” He smiled.

“H-Hey.” You laughed looking back over your shoulder to where you just were in the kitchen.

“What?” He laughed along with you.

“Nothing, although I think someone needs to tell May that Doctor Octavius isn’t actually an octopus.”

“No.” He emphasized.

“Yeah…she even offered to put salt in his water.” You burst out laughing.

“Oh no!” He laughed out loud. Oh, he felt bad for her. His aunt was too pure for this world. You bit your lip, not believing she just said that to the poor man. You shook your head and looked back up at him.

“You need anything?” You leaned on the open door.

“N-No I think we’re good- Norman?” He looked over at him.

“I could use a glass of water if it isn’t too much to ask for?” He smiled over at you. “Please.” You straightened your back and nodded sure at him.

“Yeah, of course, be right back.” You gestured with your thumb and left the room.

“She’s pretty.” Norman smirked, not missing a beat as he looked over at Peter. Peter blushed mad red.

“Shut up!” He chuckled nervously.

“How’d you two meet?” He asked as he started preparing the tools that were going to be needed.

“Funny enough… a science fair.” He shrugged, expanding the hologram. He found a headpiece that would help him see the new chip closer.

“Did you win first place or-”

“No, she uh- beat my friend Ned and I by a long shot.” He paused, sticking his tongue out to concentrate.

“What’d you build?” Norman was curious.

“A self-made electric motor with ten kilowatts of power, yet we thought it wasn’t really cool to present once we saw all the other inventions everyone else came up with. I kind of used Spider-Man connections to try and help us win. I brought in a car that had a built-in electric motor.”

“So you cheated?”

“Well when you put it that way…it doesn’t sound right, but yeah we cheated, and I wasn’t proud of it. The judges said the electric sports car was very compelling.”

“Oh.” Norman winced.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “We ended up getting second place.”

“What did Y/n make?”

“A glitter bomb.”

“A glitter-”

“A glitter bomb.” Peter nodded yes. “Y/n and her nana’s mail used to get stolen, mostly packages. So Y/n decided to engineer a device that would explode glitter as soon as the packages would be opened. I believe she even added a camera to capture the footage of the guy who kept stealing from them. We actually put him in jail.” He felt proud.

“Huh? What kind of bomb was this, again?”

“It was basically a small box like-tank with a pneumatic system. She customized these aluminum pressure tanks that were filled with air pressurized to 80 psi, which was nestled on the bottom of the tank. S-She had this whole hall effect sensor that sensed magnets, which were attached to the lid, and once the lid came off it would trigger the air to rush into the pistons and shoot up like a punch, thus releasing the glitter to ‘explode’ and cover the criminals in pink.” Peter lit up like a Christmas tree. “Completely harmless, but super effective.” He stopped and thought for a second. He turned around and looked over at your bag that sat on the floor a few feet from him. “I-I think she actually has one with her right now. It’s in her bag.” He laughed, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “I swear she takes any chance to cover someone up in glitter.”

“Incredible…Smart girl, I’d say that was indeed a well-deserved first place trophy.” Norman patted Peter’s back and focused back on the chip in front of them, but not before looking over at your tote bag with a quick glance. He quickly turned back around as Peter spoke up again.

“Her intelligence amazes me every day.” He spoke fondly of you. You loved science just as much as he did, one of the many things that brought you closer. Science and inventing stuff, it’s what you were good at. He had been excited to meet someone else who geeked off about physics and math like him.  He thought meeting you couldn’t get any better, but once you found out that he was Spider-Man, you decided to take the liberty of creating him extra web fluid for his web shooters. Most girlfriends would carry around inhalers, or even epi-pens, but you carried around web cartilages. You had one in the pocket of your jacket right now.

The two fell into silence before Norman leaned forward to inspect the little arms of the machine moving amongst the chip. He had never seen technology so advanced. Peter looked ridiculous with his tongue poking out as he slowly but carefully grabbed one of the sticks that he had to connect to the chip. “Remarkable, the technology and you. When all this is over. If you need a job and you’re willing to commute to another universe-” The machine roared and then buzzed as the completion was successful. Peter lifted the mask and breathed heavily.

“It worked!” He exclaimed, grabbing the chip and ran past Norman. “That totally worked!” You were barely walking over to the room to hand Norman his drink before Peter zoomed past you making you knock the glass out of your hand. It fell, shattering on the floor.

“Peter!”

“Sorry!” He skidded as he ran to the staircase. He looked to May moving in a hurry. “I got it, I did it, I did it!” He pointed to the chip. “Um, can you send him up?”

“Here we go.” May leaned forward to start making Doctor Octavius’s tentacles lift him in the air. “Hold on now.” She looked up at Doctor Octavius.

“All of these humiliations never cease.” Otto exclaimed as his tentacles lifted him up to the balcony of the stairs. “You, keep your science fair project away from me!”

Peter now stood behind him. You stood next to May, staring up at the two of them.

“Hey, you need to learn to have faith.” Norman tried getting him to think positively.

“Says the reckless fool who turned himself into a monster!” Otto sneered down at him.

“Please stop moving.” Peter begged as Otto began squirming. “Hold still!”

“Don’t you dare!” Peter frowned as he gripped his head. You all stood below, the anticipation was killing you. You hoped this worked. “I swear when I get out of this I’m gonna rip you-”

You tensed as his head fell forward. Peter stilled, his eyes widening. “Doc?”

“W-Why isn’t he moving?” You stuttered, looking over at the men in the room with you and May. You swallowed nervously, looking up at Peter. “Was that supposed to happen?”

“Doc?” Peter called out to him again. He was slowly getting scared. Oh god, what if he killed him. “Doc?” He panicked as he stepped forward. “Doctor Octav-” He was cut off by the loud gasp that fell from Otto’s lips.

“O-Oh, thank god!” You felt relieved, you placed a hand on your chest.

“It’s so quiet.” Otto muttered. “Those voices…inside my head.” He shook his head. He was stunned. “I almost…” He almost forgot what it felt like.

“Otto?” Norman could not believe his eyes.

“Yes, Norman.” Otto smiled, lowering himself onto his feet. “I-It’s me.” Peter jumped off the rail, landing in front of Otto. He sighed in relief as well.

“Well, would you look at that?” You turned your head to the Sandman.

Peter reached over to his right and released the bond that had been connected to the nano part of his suit, which had merged with Otto’s tentacles. You watched in amazement as the nanos retracted from the tentacles and shifted back onto his suit again. The golden design was now back again.

“I’m grateful, dear boy, truly.” They shook hands.

“Yeah. You’re welcome.” Peter nodded.

“How can I help?” Otto immediately felt better than he ever did before.

-

You sighed as you stared at the broken glass before you. After snooping around, you found a broom and a dustpan. You sighed, bending down to sweep the glass up. You stopped upon seeing red-covered feet standing before you. Peter crouched down. “Here, let me help you.” He tried taking the broom from you, but you refused.

“No.” You shook your head no. For a second he thought you were mad at him but then he saw you smirk. “You get the pan.” You held it out for him to take.

“I’ll take whatever I get.” He shrugged.

“I’m proud of you, ya know.” He looked up.

“Yeah?” He hummed.

“Mmhmm. You could have let them die, could have sent them back, but-” You turned back to look at the other two standing in the open space a few feet away. “You’re actually helping them.” You turned back to face him. “You’re giving them a second chance.”

“Well…you gave me one…” He shrugged. You looked down. You remembered there had been a time where your relationship hit rock bottom. You were both angry and upset, harsh words were thrown at each other, and things ended. You thought that that was it, that it was over and done for, but you didn’t want to lose him, and he couldn’t go another day without seeing you. So you gave this now healthy new dynamic between you two another try. It was barely getting to a good place until recent events happened, and now you two had hardly seen each other. You hardly got to have a moment together and it scared you because you considered all the worst things. You imagined that the two of you would break up again, yet you knew you could not go through that again. The first time hurt enough as it did and you two were a mess because of it. Yet funny enough you possibly dying wasn’t one of the worst things you considered that could happen. You could never imagine leaving Peter behind, you just couldn’t.

“That I did.” You smiled at him.

“Do you regret it?”

“Do you?” You eyed him wearily.

“No.” He answered immediately. “You?” He now eyed you wearily. He knew just how badly he fucked up. How he fucked up everyone’s lives. How he screwed up your chances of getting into MIT, how he- how he fucked up as a boyfriend, and now the only time both of you have had a second to breathe was over broken glass. You looked up and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“No.” You shook your head. He nodded, feeling reassured.

You two worked together to collect any leftover minerals of glass. You got up and Peter carefully walked over to the little kitchen to dispose of the glass in the trash bin. You brush yourself off then head up the stairs to put back the broom in the little closet you found it in. You had passed the wall when you felt yourself being pushed up against it. “Peter?” Your chest rose and fell as he trapped you with his hands. You could feel the heat come off him as his eyes darkened.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” His eyes fell down to your lips waiting like a question.

“O-Okay.” You gasped as Peter smashed his lips against yours. You sighed into the kiss, longing to feel him closer. You gripped his hair feeling his lips move in sync with yours. You couldn’t open your eyes. If you did, you thought this would all be over. His touch would become unfamiliar, and the smell of him would dissipate into the air like nothing. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly allowing your tongue to slip inside. You both were breathing heavily as your bodies pressed together heatedly. You didn’t know how much you missed this. You missed feeling that familiar warmth blossom in your chest as he held you firmly. That little spark was ignited again as you displayed your wants and needs through every tug and pull, and bite and kiss. Usually, you would both be in your room, door locked, blinds shut, but you were reduced to sneaking in a heated make-out session in an apartment filled with men who could kill you in an instant.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled back gasping for air. “I’m sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that these past weeks.”

“Well, I’ve been waiting for you to do that so…” You leaned back on the wall, trying to calm down your breathing. Your hair was a mess and your lips were swollen. God, you couldn’t have looked sexier and prettier than right now in this state.

“I’m sorry.” He pressed his head against yours.

You closed your eyes, caressing the exposed skin on his neck. “What are you sorry for, mister?” You hummed in question.

“For everything that’s happened.” He sighed heavily. There was a knot in his chest. “I’ve screwed up big time, and I’ve hurt you, MJ, Ned, and May, everyone’s lives are ruined because of me.”

“Hey!” Your voice was firm. “None of that, okay?” You cupped his face. “You did not ruin our lives, okay?” You pressed your head against his head again. “What’s with all the negativity? You just had a breakthrough with Doctor Octavius!” You laughed, pointing to the stairwell. “You’re making up for it by helping them, Peter. You’re fixing it! That’s all that really matters.” You leaned in and kissed him sweetly. “All that matters.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his neck. Peter melted under your touch and your lips letting his head fall to the side. He opened his eyes and gently lifted your chin to look at him.

“I love you.” He caressed your face. “So much…I’d carry you into that room over there, but-” He just had to make a quip any chance he got.

“Oh yeah, no totally.” You agreed that now was not the time. “Later?” You offered.

“Definitely later.”

You tugged him by the back of his hair and kissed him. He hummed into the kiss. One hand propped up against the wall over you and the other cupped over your left cheek as he savored the way your lips felt pressed against his. How your hands were soft as your fingers carded through his hair, how he could hear the thud of your heart combined with his own. That was the only thing keeping him sane, knowing that your heart was still beating and that you were okay. If any given day it just stopped thudding against your chest like it was doing right now. He’d break. Probably even turn his whole room upside down. Though he didn’t want to find out what he would do.

“Where’d you go?” You giggle softly, pulling him back to reality.

“I was just listening…” He brushed it off. He leaned over to press a kiss to your neck.

“To what?”

He pulled back. He grasped your left hand and placed it over your heart. You felt it pound against your palm. “My heart?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. Peter nodded in response.

“Feel that?” You nodded, placing your other hand over his gloved one. “It’s healthy, and strong, and beating, and that’s all that really matters to me.” He furrowed his brows. He was serious. “You’re all that matters to me.”

“P-Peter.” You got all choked up. “Everything’s gonna be okay-”

“You can’t know that for sure.” He let his head fall against yours. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“I’m a big girl, Peter. I can handle myself.” You laughed it off.

“I don’t doubt it.” He agreed solemnly.

“Then stop worrying about me so much! Worry about them and helping them, okay?” You gestured to the staircase. “Okay?” You moved your head to meet his eyes.

“I’m always gonna worry about you. I can’t lose you. I can’t go through that again, and if something were to happen to you, then I wouldn’t be able to forgive my-” You nodded as you pulled him into another kiss, this one much slower.

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“Y/n please-”

“I love you.” You held his attention. “I love you too much to ever put you through that kind of pain. I know I don’t usually run when you tell me to, but I will this time. Okay? I’ll run, just say the word, and I’ll book it the opposite direction away from the fight. I promise I won’t try and be a hero this time.” You were crying by now. You were nodding rapidly to reassure him. “I’ll run because I love you too much. I-I can’t lose you either.” You pulled him closer by the neck and crushed your lips against his.

“I love you.” He shed a tear as he whispered against your lips. “You hear me. I love you.” He breathed out. “I love you, so so much.”

“I love you, more.” Your voice cracked as your lips moved together.

-

After your moment together, you quickly composed yourselves and quickly made your way down the steps. Peter let go of your hand as he walked over to start on the device for Electro. You grabbed another glass and filled it with fresh water. You hadn’t forgotten that Norman had asked for some, so you quickly made your way into the storage room where he was writing down equations and what looked like formulas.

“How does it feel Norman?” Otto asked him. “You’re about to become whole again.” He nodded. “No more, darker half. Just you.”

“Just me.” Norman trailed off. He stood still for a second before turning around slowly to reciprocate the smile that Otto gave him.

“Knock, knock.” You tapped your knuckles against the door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You chuckled nervously.

“Ahh Y/n, no of course not. Come in come in.” Norman ushered you forward.

“I got that water you asked for. Sorry, it took so long. Peter made me drop the first glass.”

“S’alright. Better late than never right?” He nudged your shoulder.

“Y-Yeah…right.”

“So…glitter bombs huh?” Norman smirked. You closed your eyes groaning. “All in good fun dear girl.”

“I’m guessing Peter told you about the science fair.” You scratched your head with your finger.

“Indeed he did. He also told me how remarkably intelligent you are. Aluminum pressure tanks, hall effect sensors.” You felt your cheeks heat up as he listed off the built of your bomb. “Incredible…smart girl!” He praised you. “I believe Peter’s described your bomb as, harmless but effective.” He smiled gently.

“Yeah, I mainly built it for fun. A little surprise for burglars. Harmless where it can’t endanger anyone, yet effective enough to get the message across.” You half-heartedly laughed.

“Ahh yes, by covering them in sparkles and glitter.” He hummed.

“What else would I cover them in?” You furrowed your brows, feeling sort of uneasy under his stare. You laughed to lighten up the mood thinking he was just teasing, but what he asked next startled you.

“Have you ever considered turning them into real bombs?”

“Excuse me?” You tilted your head.

“Ya know, giving them an upgrade.” He shrugged nonchalantly thinking it was a simple thing to say.

“No.” You said firmly. “They’re not supposed to cause any harm. They’re-”

“Harmless and effective, yes.” He hummed again. Eyeing you were narrowed eyes. “But imagine if they were more effective and useful in a dangerous situation…”

“I-I’ve never had to rely on them though. Peter always-”

“Keeps you out of harm’s way?”

You nodded yes.

“How chivalrous of him.” He chuckled. “But- what happens when you can’t always rely on him, what then?”

“I-” You were about to give him an earful, but stopped yourself. What would you do if you couldn’t rely on him to save you? “I-I don’t know…” You finally answered.

“He’s lucky to have you, ya know.” Norman smiled at you. You looked over at him, the corner of your lips turning upward. “It’s good to have someone who knows the ins and outs, the risks, and how truly dangerous it is to be a superhero.” You felt small under his gaze. “You balance each other out well…” And that was all he said.

“Well, I’m lucky to have him.” You tilted your head. Then excuse yourself from the room. You smiled gently over at Otto then left the room.

“What was that all about?” Otto questioned him.

“Just making small talk.” Norman smirked.

-

You had almost collided with Peter when you were exiting the room.

“Ugh.”

“Oof.” You both groaned, but he steadied you to prevent you from falling.

“Hey, woah, you okay?” Peter’s eyes grew with worry. He noticed how shaken you were. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He glanced over your shoulder into the room you practically ran out of. You quickly shook your head. You didn’t want him to worry about something silly. So you brushed it off even if you felt like something was wrong.

“N-Nothing…I-I’m fine, promise.” You hoped he wouldn’t see past your fake ass smile.

“You sure?” He rubbed your arms up and down gently.

“Yeah…” You nodded again. “I-I’m gonna go find, May- have her make me some tea maybe…” You walked around him. Your back was turned to him, but he stopped you.

“Y/n.”

You turned around. “Mhmm?” Your eyes watch him with patience.

“Love you.” He muttered softly.

“Love you more.” You smiled then frown as you watched him turn around first this time and disappear into the room with Otto…and also Norman.

-

“Something feels off.” Max shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked down at the device Peter had placed on his chest.

“What do you mean?” William asked.

“I don’t like this…”

“Leave it alone. The sooner you guys get through this, the sooner we go home.”

Beep.

Another green light lit up, filling up the circle.

-

Peter had been in a trance writing formulas out to try and test for Norman’s serum when he felt his spider-sense go off. His eyes widened, and his breathing increased. He stood up abruptly feeling a need to find you and May immediately.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” Otto asked him in concern.

“I don’t know…” He walked out of the room feeling like everything was dialed up to eleven. “M-May…Y/n.” He called out to you. You looked up from the book you carried with you and got up instantly hearing worry in his voice.

“What is it, Peter?” May waved around some sage in the air. You followed behind her.

“Peter?” You furrowed your brows. You walked past May on the steps and walked up behind him. You gently placed one of your hands on his shoulder. “Hey talk to me, what’s wrong?”

You all stood there in anticipation waiting for him to say something. He looked around frantically. Feeling nervous and scared at the same time. He spared a glance to Max.

“What’s going on?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Max eyed him, feeling uneasy as the boy stared at him.

“Peter?” Everyone’s voices felt distant. As though a muffler were placed over his ears.

He took a deep breath, making himself relax. He opened them up, grunting as he shot a web out. Norman’s hand was now stuck to Dum-E.

Your breath hitched as Norman slowly turned his gaze onto Peter. Your book fell out of your grasp, thumping against the floor.

“That’s some neat trick…” Norman’s voice sounded deeper. “That sense of yours…”

“Norman?” Otto stepped forward, hoping to reach his friend.

“Norman’s on sabbatical, honey.” The goblin smirked.

“The hell?” Max eyed the man standing before him.

“The goblin…” Peter whispered.

Peter’s eyes hardened as he stared at Norman. He slowly looked over to May silently communicating with her. She slowly backed away and rushed over to grab your tote bag and the two serums they had been working on. As for you. You stepped closer to Peter. Hiding behind him like a shy scared kid meeting a stranger for the first time. Peter wrapped his right arm around your waist and your lower back, pressing you into his back. Your eyes were the only thing the goblin saw.

“No more, darker half, did you really think that I’d let that happen? That I’d let you take away my power just because you’re blind to what true power can bring you.”

“You don’t know me.” Peter scoffed.

“Don’t I?” The goblin taunted him.

“I saw how she trapped you…” Peter looked over to May walking back out the room with your bag. “Fighting her holy moral mission.” May appeared. She turned to look at him. This was not the man she was trying to help. She gripped your bag tightly in her right hand.

Peter kept his gaze on Norman. May was tense, but so were you. She looked at Peter, then at you nodding slightly. She didn’t need to say anything to tell you that you needed to get the hell out of there.

“That girlfriend of yours is just as blind as you are.” This made Peter fume as his grip on you tightened feeling protective of you. “She doesn’t know her true potential…hasn’t pushed herself to see what her knowledge and with the right motivation can create. Just from what you told me about her Peter…she’s meant for greater things.” He smirked at you.

“Like what? Making real bombs, and hurting people?” Peter’s eyes widened at your words. Was that why you ran out looking frightened? Because Norman said that to you? “Harmful, yet effective, right? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You stepped out. “Screw you, I’m good, thanks!” You scowled at him.

“We don’t need you to save us.” The goblin continued, brushing your words off. “We don’t need to be fixed!” He turned and gestured to the device on Max’s chest that was close to turning green. “These are not curses.”

Beep.

“They’re gifts!”

“Norman no…” Otto shook his head.

“Quiet lap dog!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter stared him down.

“I’ve watched you from deep behind Norman’s cowardly eyes. Struggling to have everything you want, while the world tries to make you choose.”

Beep.

“Gods don’t have to choose…we take!” The goblin shook his head, smirking.

“Y/n, May, run!” He released you, pushing you to the door. Without a second thought, you picked up your feet and bolted. May was hot on your heels. You had promised him you’d run, and that’s exactly what you were gonna do.

All hell broke loose.

You and May quickly reached the elevator. She began pressing the button to go down rapidly, but even then an elevator was going to be too slow for you two. You halted turning your head to hear the loud commotion coming from Happy’s complex. You felt a pang in your heart.

“Y/n sweetie, come on. Peter can handle himself.” May looked up watching the lights flickering above you.

“Not alone-” Your voice cracked, as more crashing and bangs made you flinch. You closed your eyes and grunted.

“Y/N.” May used her mom voice on you and gripped your arm and tugged you to the door with the exit sign above it. The stairs would be a lot faster. “Come on!”

You hurried down each step behind her. She took one of the serums out and handed you your bag. “Here, take it. The other serum is in there.” You took the bag and tightened it in your hand like May had done, not wanting it to slip out of your grasp.

-

As soon as you made it out to the lobby. You skidded to a stop and jumped back as the ceiling fell. Two bodies smashed through the ceiling. The rumble had separated you and May. Her standing by the looby entrance and you on the other side where the elevator doors were located. You took out the serum, seeing the Goblin climb on top of your boyfriend.

“Your weakness Peter is morality. It’s choking you!” Goblin mocked him as his hands tightened around his neck. “Can you feel it?” You had taken one look at May before you both ran forward and plunged the serums into his neck. You quickly backed away from the man.

“Ahh!”

“Ugh!” Peter gasped as Norman’s hands released their grip.

You stared in bewilderment as he stood up, unphased. Taking the injections out of his neck and tossing them outside. “It didn’t work.”

You looked over at Peter turning around on his stomach, trying his best to stand up.

“Norman was right. He got it from you…that pathetic-”

“Stop it!” You cried out as he slammed his foot into Peter’s back.

“-sickness!” He leaned down and picked him up. Holding him by his hair. Peter heaved in and out. He couldn’t breathe. He leaned down and leaned in Peter’s ear. “He tried to fix me…”

“M-May- no- May…” Peter grunted. She had yanked down a loose metal-looking mallet hanging from the ceiling.

“Now I’m gonna fix you…” Goblin said this as his hoverboard arrived at the front entrance. Peter’s heart sank.

“Hey!” You yelled. The Goblin had turned around in time for his face to collide with your bag. What had been inside it made him stumble away from Peter a bit. Peter caught himself with his hands as he fell forward.

He tried again. “May run, please.” His voice was disgruntled and raspy. He needed you two to be safe. “Y-Y/n…r-run!” He begged. You had turned around to face him and that had been your first mistake. Your second was letting your guard down. This gave the Goblin an opening to have enough time to grab you and throw you across the lobby like a ragdoll.

“Y/N!” Peter watched in horror as your back collided with the wall. Your head lulling to the side, you were knocked out cold.

The hoverboard came rushing in through the doors. Glass splattering everywhere. May had been hit directly on the back. She was thrown from the impact.

“MAY!”

Peter grunted as the Goblin jumped on the board. He pushed himself up with all the strength he could muster.

“Peter, Peter, Peter. No good deed goes unpunished.” Peter caught Norman’s eyes looking over at you unconscious, and May laying on the ground in pain. “You’ll thank me later.” He smirked and threw one of his pumpkin bombs in the air.

“No!” Peter threw himself in the air as he tried to catch the bomb. His fingertips had only brushed against the bomb…then it set off. Throwing him back.

-

You were awoken by the sound of a voice talking. You didn’t know how long you were out. All you knew was that pain was currently running up and down your back.

“Y/n? Y/n, hey can you hear me?” He cried, shaking you lightly. You groaned as your eyes opened and closed. “Hey, baby, I’m here. Can you hear my voice?” He sniffled as he brushed a hair out of your face.

You took a deep breath as your eyes opened wide. Your eyes wandered before they settled onto Peter who was crouched down in front of you. “P-Pete?”

“Oh thank god.” He choked up. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Oh, you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Norm-” You began to panic, sitting up straighter, but Peter made you rest against the wall by pushing on your shoulder.

“He got away, he’s not here.” Peter shook his head. “We’re okay. You’re okay.”

“I knew…” You winched as you tried sitting up then gulped. “I knew something was off about him- I-I should have told you I wasn’t fine-” You hiccuped. “H-He kept talking about m-my glitter bomb.” God, he should have never told him about that. His head fell down. One of his hands fell on your legs, rubbing it slowly. You were looking around at the mess. The whole lobby was unrecognizable. Then you realized…You noticed quickly that you couldn’t feel any mobility in your legs. You looked down at Peter’s hand rubbing against your leggings and you whimpered. Peter lifted his head hearing you cry. He gave you a once over, then reached forward to cup your face.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Where does it hurt? Where are you in pain?”

“I-I can’t-” You shook your head. “I-I can’t feel my legs, Peter.” Peter looked down at your legs. They looked still. He felt a pang in his heart. He slowly placed his hand at the tip of your shoes and squeezed. He looked up in question, but you continued shaking your head. He moved back up closer to you, trying to find where you could have gotten hurt. He moved his head to look at your back. He lifted your shirt just a tad bit and right then and there he wanted to cry. His heart broke seeing purple and red combined. He touched you lightly and pulled his hand towards him. The red drops of blood were darker than his own suit. Your spinal cord must’ve taken the blow, and now you were bleeding out. He clenched his jaw to try and keep his cool.

“W-What?” You shivered. “What’s wrong? You okay?” He only shook his head no. No, he was far from okay. “H-How bad is it…P-Pete?” You slowly reached out with your left hand to grasp his hand tightly. Yet, it felt weak to Peter though. “Peter?”

“S-Somebody help I need an ambulance! Please, somebody, help us!” He yelled out again like he had with May. Though no one was coming to help him save his loved ones…and that pained him.

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath and turned back to look at you. He reached forward caressing your cheeks lovingly. Smiling like everything was okay. “Nothing happened, you’re okay, you’re okay. We’re gonna get you out of here, and I’m gonna get you to a doctor, and they’ll fix you up, and you’ll be good as new again!” He nodded. He wanted so hard to believe the words that slipped past his mouth, but he just needed you to stay awake for him, yet you didn’t show any signs of being tired.

You could see right through him though. He was trying so hard not to cry. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears slipped. You opened them to look up at the ceiling. Blinking away your watery eyes.

“Where’s M-May?” Your voice rasped. You were going in and out of consciousness when you heard him plead for her to open her eyes.

“N-No.” He shook his head. His face scrunched in pain. This made you break down. He continued caressing you. He was calm as long as he heard your heart still beating.

“I-I’m sorry.” A tear fell down your cheek. Peter immediately looked up, shaking his head.

“W-What are you sorry for, huh?” He half-heartedly laughed. His voice cracked as he kept caressing you.

“I-I said…I said I wouldn’t be a he-hero.” Your lips trembled. “I said-” You swallowed down the knot in your throat. “I said I’d run and I didn’t.” You let out a sob.

“This is not your fault, do you hear me?” He held your face. “This was all Norman, not you.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple as silent cries slipped past your lips. “This is not your fault.”

Thoomp-thump.

Thoomp-thump.

Healthy, strong, and beating, it’s still healthy, strong, and beating. He kept reminding himself.

He looked at the lobby’s front entrance where a swat team was waiting for him. Guns were being pulled out. He didn’t like the looks of it. Your breathing was still regulating normally, that was a good thing, right? You were alive and that was enough to ease him. He continued to stare at the entrance while his thumb kept sliding back and forth across your left cheek.

You had your head to the side. You weren’t saying anything, but from the rise and fall of your chest was slowing, he could tell you were having trouble getting air.

“Hey, you okay? Where else does it hurt?” He wiped away the dirt that smudged on your right cheek. “Y/n-”

“-S-Shhh.” You furrowed your brows, focusing your ears on that stupid ticking noise. “W-What is that?” You croaked. You were growing tired and that noise was driving you to insanity. “W-Where’s that coming from?” Peter looked at you confused. He let go of your hand and stood up slowly.

“What’s what?” He looked around the lobby.

“Listen.”

He moved around walking over some of the rubble. “Y/n, I don’t hear anything.” He shook his head.

“Just listen…t-tick, tick, tick.” You made the sounds as you looked left and right. Why the hell did it sound so close?

He strained his ears finally being able to hear it. “What is that?” You were right, there was something ticking. “Where’s it coming from?” Peter started furiously looking under pieces of rubble, his heart started picking up. He did not like the sound of it. If there was another bomb in the room with you two…he had to find it.

You watched him panic as he grunted. You could still hear it even with him throwing pieces of concrete around. You finally strained your ears more and suddenly looked to your left. You noticed a red dot blinking against the cotton fabric of your tote bag. You held your breath as you shakingly reached for the handle and tugged it closer.

“Why is it getting louder?” He exclaimed as he tugged at his hair with his hands. He sighed, then looked back to see you pull out something from your bag. It was the fucking bomb! He felt his flight or fight response kick in and scurried to you. He groaned, holding his side where his ribs were broken. He pressed two middle fingers down to shoot out a web, but nothing came out. He was out… He hopped on his good side trying to reach you. “Y/n!”

You gasped for air seeing the timer on 2 seconds. You looked up with wide eyes, feeling your heart plummet to the bottom of your stomach. “Peter!” You cried as you threw the device in your hands. Yet when it hit zero it exploded, just like any bomb would. The blast sent you both back. It made your head collide with the wall. Your eyes wavered as you groaned in agony. There was a slight ringing in your ears. You reached up weakly touching the tips of your ears only to pull your hand back slowly to see blood. The blast threw Peter back. He gasped as he landed on his back. You were feeling dazed, your vision becoming slightly blurry, you heaved slowly trying to breathe. You couldn’t. You heard the sound of cracking and breaking, suddenly. You slowly looked up and felt scared as the ceiling above you started falling. “P-Pet-”

-

Peter didn’t know how long he had been knocked out. Woke up in shock. He was sweating and everything hurt.

“Y-Y/n…” He croaked out your name as he rolled over. He gasped for air as he made himself get up. The blast had caused more concrete to fall from the ceiling making it harder for him to reach you. He had to climb over a few pieces of rubble before his eyes caught sight of you. “N-No!” He yelled out in agony as he pushed himself forward. He grunted as he threw the rubble that fell on you. He breathed heavily as soon as he removed the last piece off of you. He choked back a sob, seeing the sight of you. Your ears were bleeding and so was your nose. Your neck had been curled in on itself. He shook his head whimpering. “Y-Y/n…” No response. “Hey, can you hear me? It’s P-Peter. Y-Y/n?” He let out a stifled sob. He held your face gently, turning it so he could take a good look at you. “Please!” He shook you just slightly. “Please look at me, please. Open your eyes for me, yeah? Let me see those y/e/c eyes…just let me see them. Please!” He begged and begged and begged. “What are you doing? Can you just wake up and talk to me, please. Let me hear your voice one more time, yeah? Please…please- say something.” He realized just how quiet the open space felt. His body shook as he fell forward on you.

…..

…..

…..

…..

Silence had taken over the rhythm of your thuds. He couldn’t hear your heart beating anymore. A strangled sob released from his body. He yelled out in agony, punching the wall next to you. He made an indent. He could feel his knuckles throb, but he didn’t care. He sobbed, pulling his fist away from the wall. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking away tears, then he looked down at your limp body. He placed his hands back on your face removing any loose strands of hair that covered your eyes.

“It’s okay…It’s okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You weren’t gonna be okay and it was all his fault. “You’re okay now, you’re okay.” He raised his head to kiss your temple. “I-I love you.” He whispered over and over. “I love you, I Iove you so much.”

“Peter, run!” Happy had yelled out as he was shoved up against the hood of his own car.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kissed your temple over and over, even giving you one on your cheek, and then a soft yet slow chaste one on your chapped lips. He pulled back caressing you and running his thumbs over your cheeks again. “I’m so sorry…”

“Alright Parker come out with your hands up!”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry!” He got up as soon as bullets started being fired at him. He checked himself to see if he had gotten grazed, but he hadn’t…and then he bolted with one last glance at you laying in the rumble.

-

Peter ran to the only place he felt the safest. The roof of Midtown High. It was the only place that he felt would bring him some peace of mind, but nothing was bringing him any peace knowing that you and May were dead. He had never felt more alone than he did on that roof. So when his two best friends arrived. He looked over at them before breaking down altogether once more. They immediately fell down to his side. Soothing and holding him. Telling him reassuring things that they hoped would calm him down, but nothing was going to soothe the ache in his heart.

MJ had been the first to notice your absence. Her head lifted as an uneasy feeling wrapped around her giving her goosebumps. From the lack of your presence and the heartbroken look Peter had. It wasn’t hard to figure out, she didn’t want to say anything though. She didn’t want her worst fears to be true.

Yet instead, Ned was the one to ask.

“P-Peter…where’s Y/n?” Ned looked around the roof for any sign of you, but as he looked back at Peter’s torn guilt look. He felt his heart tear in two. Peter shook his head as he curled his arms around his knees tighter. He sobbed, letting his head fall forward.

“I-I couldn’t save them…” His body shook. MJ placed a hand over her mouth as tears threatened to spill. This day just kept getting worse, and now you were gone. “I-I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t get to her in time. S-She’s dead because of me.” He clutched his head tightly as the voices in his head kept building up and screaming at him. “May and Y/n are dead because of me.” He just wanted them to go away. “Why!” MJ and Ned wrapped their arms around him. It was your voice, his, and Norman’s combined. Just one after the other, taunting him, mocking him, and breaking him.

What kind of bomb was this, again?

I-I think she actually has one with her right now. It’s in her bag.

She’s pretty.

H-Hey.

You need anything?

I-I can’t feel my legs.

What’s wrong?

N-Nothing…I-I’m fine, promise.

It’s in her bag.

What kind of bomb was this, again?

I knew…I knew something was off about him- I-I should have told you I wasn’t fine.

Nothing is gonna happen to me.

She’s pretty.

…in her bag.

W-What is that?

Just listen…t-tick, tick, tick.

What kind of bomb was this, again?

TICK.

Nothing is gonna happen to me.

TICK.

It’s healthy, and strong, and beating, and that’s all that really matters to me. You’re all that matters to me.

TICK.

Harmful, yet effective, right? That’s what you want, isn’t it?

TICK.

Where’d you go?

I was just listening…

To what? My heart?

THOOMP-THUMP.

THOOMP-THUMP.

TICK.

That’s all that really matters.

TICK.

Everything’s gonna be okay.

TICK.

Be okay…

TICK

All that really matters to me.

TICK.

Nothing….

NOTHING…

NOTHING is gonna happen to me.

Nothing…

I love you.

I love you too much to ever put you through that kind of pain.

TICK.

Ned and MJ noticed him tense up, they moved back as his head slowly lifted. He stared off into the night. His jaw clenched and his face hardened.

“Peter?” MJ grew worried by his silence. “Peter, talk to us?” Something had gone off in him to be acting this way.

“Peter, man?” Ned furrowed his eyes.

Peter!

BOOM.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em…” His voice rasped.

-

Extra Scene:

Though Peter felt that getting vengeance for you and May was the answer. His other two former Spider-Man told him that there had been something to fight for. That you and May hadn’t died for nothing. Peter 2 had managed to prevent him from killing Norman. What good would killing him have done if everyone else had been cured except him? So with all the anger left inside him, he had plunged the serum into Norman’s neck and watched as he was cured. It wasn’t going to bring you back, but he had helped him, he helped them all…and now no one knew who he was.

He had to find a new place to live and he had ended up renting from Mr. Ditkovich, a somewhat decent landlord…not really. The place was run-down, but it was going to be his home. For how long, he wasn’t sure. At least he got the place looking somewhat decent by the end of the night.

Peter was moving around some boxes, the box contained some of his and your stuff combined that he would go through later, but as he clumsy set it down, there was a swish of something sliding across the floor. He caught sight of something white and walked away with another box now in his hands to another spot in the small apartment, but he quickly halted in his step. He did a double-take seeing the slip of notebook paper on the ground. He set the box with some of his stuff down and walked over to pick it up. It was folded in half hiding the written content. He opened up the fold and he had never felt pain strike him so badly the way seeing your handwriting did. He sat on the edge of the bed. His thumb smoothed over your swirls and loops. He couldn’t be upset about the fact he found this certain piece of paper though. If anything it made him laugh a little, something he hadn’t done in a while. He smiled genuinely seeing the ridiculous title you had tried giving the list: Y/n & Peter’s Super Duper Spidey-Tastic, SAFE, CRAZY ASS, SAFE, BADASS, SAFE Bucket List.

He shook his head thinking back to the time where he kept fighting you for the stupid black pen, he tried to reason with you about how you two should make the bucket list safe for your sake, but you weren’t having none of it. You still ended up crossing out his added words.

“You’re staring.” You had peeked an eye open, having just woken up. You had briefly made eye contact with Peter, who had been leaning on his arm watching you sleep like the weirdo he was.

“I’m admiring.“

"Staring-”

“-Taking you all in because you’re beautiful.” He leaned down to peck your lips but you groaned.

“I have morning breath.” You laughed trying to shove him away.

“Don’t care…” He leaned in capturing your lips with his own. He hummed softly, savoring the slow kiss. He pulled back and smiled down at you. “What do you wanna do today?”

“Mmmm…” You looked off wondering what you and Peter could do to drag out the day ahead of you.

“We could go to Mr. Delmars for sandwiches, a picnic in the park, I could swing us to the tallest view in the city again?” All his suggestions sounded amazing but you thought something new could be fun.

“W-Why don’t we make a bucket list?” You shied away from his eyes only to have him gently turn your chin to look at him.

“A bucket list…”

“I-I know it’s stupid forget-”

“No, no, no. It’s actually– a great idea!” He got up all excited and sat back.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed.

“Okay, okay.” You sat up too. Your smile grew by the millisecond.

“What would we even do?” Peter chuckled, scratching his head. He had no clue what you two would even write down.

“Umm…” You furrowed your brows. Your tongue was poking against your cheek in thought. “Huh? Um, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” You giggled.

“Like we always do.” Peter’s eyes met yours.

“Like we always do…” You nodded. Your eyes widened as he reached forward to wrap his arms alright your waist.

“Argh, come here you.” He had pulled you on top of him. His head was now against your pillows. He laughed as you pushed yourself up so as to not crush him. “Hi.” His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Hi there.” You giggled.

“I love you.” He leaned forward to peck your lips.

Warmth had spread all over you. Your eyes crinkled at the edges too. You smiled down at the brunette with nothing but love for him.

“I love you too.” You leaned down and pecked his lips.

Tears spilled on the piece of paper after realizing you guys never really did get to do anything, except one, on the list. He could recall how excited you were to do all these things, now it felt like you two wrote it all for nothing. He thought of crumbling up the paper, but the last thing on the list made him choke out a sob. The ink had been different from the rest of the nine things on the list. A bit more harsh than your typical delicate looking penmanship. He felt his heart skip realizing that you had added it at a different point and time. You wrote the last item on your own accord because it was something you had wanted to do. It was something you hoped to possibly make happen one day. You loved him so much, and this only added to it.

1. See a show on Broadway 2. Save up for a place in Brooklyn 3. Horse carriage around NY in December 4. Try new ice cream flavors 5. Drive through Brooklyn bridge 6. Let Y/n try on the Spider-Man Suit 7. Take a picture together at every tallest point 8. Skate at the Rockefeller center both dressed as Spider-Man 9. Get matching tattoos 10. Get married after college

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Peter sniffled, bringing the list up to his lips, kissing it gently. He was going to have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. He was going to have to adjust to waking up and turning over on his other side only to remember that you wouldn’t be lying there sleeping peacefully next to him, and he was going to have to learn to be okay with that. You’d remain a memory, a constant reminder that your smile would no longer grace others, and you’d remain in his heart. The only safe place he could protect you from here on out.

[luffyvace]

can i request a romantic hairo x male reader where the reader is a psychic like Saiki?

Ooooh! This whole time I just realized I’ve been writing for reader without psychic powers so this’ll be fun! :}

Ehhh Hairo needs more gifs..;P

💪🔥👍

Tbh these hcs can go lots of different ways depending on how you are and what you want! For examples….:3

if you want to hide your psychic abilities from him, well, it depends on whether fate wants you to or not! Just like how if saiki is meant to do something, despite all the power he has to stop it, it ends up happening anyway! :P but if it wants you to then either 1) stuff miraculously happens to prevent him from finding out or 2) he sees and doesn’t believe his eyes 😋

if your open and tell him about them he’s a little shocked at first! Of course he is! He’s never seen them before canonly. And ngl? He not gonna believe you 😭 Not that he don’t trust you but your gonna need some stone hard evidence that it’s you and not some magic trick. It’ll be easier to convince him depending on what type of powers you have. Physical powers wont be such a struggle as idk?? reading minds. After he does get over the initial shock though..

You are now…..super maaaan! 🦸 cuz like what other logical explanation is there?

Will ask you a million and one questions as far as how did you get them? When? How does it feel? How does it work? If he works hard enough will he get them too? Do you come from another galaxy? Is that your only power? (😅💓)

Him completely getting used to them never really happens. I mean it’s not normal really! To him there’s no other person like you! Cuz I mean he hasn’t found out 🤷‍♀️ He always praises you over how cool you are and says ‘even if he can’t gain powers like you he’ll work hard to be just as strong/cool! 💪‘

His parents reaction (if you decide to tell them too/if they find out) is oddly relaxed? Don’t get me wrong their jaws do drop and they are in shock, but after that they ask you a few questions and is pretty much like ‘cool👍‘

the Hairo family isn’t the type to see things like this and immediately snap a pic for the media, they’re kinda like ‘WOW this is rare!! Cool :)’ LOL 😂 I feel like they’re just mature like that, all three of them :}

if your friends know then you probably told him it was okay to tell them and he broke news first. Either that or a completely 180° and they didn’t find out til months later when you used them casually in public without realizing. Either way they pretty much scold Hairo for not telling them sooner when he says ‘he knows’ you have psychic powers. LIKE HELLO?! THATS NOT NORMAL?! SAY SOMETHING??

if you wanna keep it a secret he’s gotcha! 👌 as I said he doesn’t overreact to these types of things, I feel, so your secrets’ safe with him and he stands on business about it! Not a soul will know until your ready and if not then they never will.

Although, if your fine with the public knowing, he doesn’t want you to use them to cheat in sports/exercising. He thinks it’s very unmanly and unfair :^ which I’d be mad too if some dude with powers cheated like that, so can’t blame him. You likely agree with this so there shouldn’t be a problem really ☀︎

[comes back and acts like I didn’t disappear for idk how long] 💃💃🩰

[twirls away 🩰]

[supersaiyanjedi14]

RWBY COMBAT ANALYSIS: JAUNE ARC (VOLUMES 1-8)

“You're right, Ren. I… I did cheat my way into Beacon. And I'm glad that I had people around me to help me see that I was bigger than that mistake. You've got people around you too. You don't have to force yourself to be strong. The more you hide from what you're feeling, the more alone you're going to feel. Trust me.”

As I mentioned in my previous Versus Series match, this analysis of Jaune Arc's combative abilities will be focused on his appearances until RWBY Volume 8, prior to falling into the Ever After and being displaced in time. The strengths and limitations of Jaune before he became the Rusted Knight are simply more interesting to discuss, and, similarly to Maria Calavera, the significant gap in time between his being sent back and Volume 9 makes equating the two inappropriate. While Rusted Knight Jaune did display just enough in Volume 9 for me to have a good gauge of where he stands, this analysis is already stupidly long (over 6000 words and 11 pages) so pulling a joint profile like I did with Maria will likely bore you out. Although, If you want me to do a breakdown for Rusted Knight Jaune, let me know!

With all that out of the way, let's begin.

PHYSICAL

Jaune Arc is a human male, nineteen years of age when he fell into the Ever After two years after the Fall of Beacon.  Born into a family with a history of distinguished Huntsmen and military service, Jaune grew up on stories of heroism and glory, seeking to emulate of his forebearers and dreams of becoming a great legendary hero.  Despite this ambition, though the exact reasons are currently unconfirmed, Jaune Arc never attended a combat school, living a wholly civilian life alongside his parents and seven sisters.  However, Jaune was determined to achieve his dream to the point of cheating, forging transcripts to gain admission to Beacon Huntsman Academy in Vale.  Unsurprisingly, his nonexistent training left him severely out of his depth compared to his classmates, while his misguided belief in his need to excel on his own merits led to him rejecting offers for aid from his teammates.  Fortunately, a short conflict with class bully Cardin Winchester led to Jaune eating some much-needed humble pie, and he submitted himself to private tutoring from his partner, the Mistrali prodigy Pyrrha Nikos.  Pyrrha’s training greatly picked up the slack and helped Jaune truly develop his skills as a fighter and leader, making genuine contributions to the defense of Vale and Team JNPR’s Vytal Festival battles.  Sadly, the Fall of Beacon and Pyrrha’s subsequent death cut his training short, and he found himself thrust headfirst into the war with Salem, his subsequent development coming from direct experience in the field and his being forced to cope with the mounting pressure of his traumatic experiences.

While Jaune Arc’s lack of combat training left him woefully underprepared for academy life and the Huntsman profession, he was ironically well-suited to the physical rigors he was bound to encounter.  As the Arc family was known for regular camping trips in Mistral, Jaune was clearly able to develop a high degree of physical fitness and maintained a healthy lifestyle, standing as a surprisingly talented natural athlete.  His past as an outdoorsman left him prepared with the harsh conditions of the battlefield, and his formal training ironed out his athleticism to leverage his body for fighting.  Easily identified by the blonde hair and blue eyes shared by his family, Jaune stood at a robust 6’1”and sported an athletic, muscular build.  In terms of physical performance, his primary attributes were strength and agility, expressed through his joint use of powerful stalwart stances and dynamic full-body maneuvers.  Even before his training truly began, Jaune proved himself to be remarkably strong, deflecting aside a Deathstalker’s pincer during his initiation and holding back an Ursa Major’s mauling swipe in the Forever Fall forest.  After proper training and combat experience, Jaune grew into a true physical heavyweight, his might, while not matching juggernauts like James Ironwood and Hazel Rainart, being easily comparable to heavy hitters like Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie.  He has sent an Ursa flying with a shield bash, launched grown humans several yards into the air, briefly held back the crushing weight of the Nuckelavee’s hooves, and supported the weight of a Sabyr and Tyrian Callows when they held onto his shield, in addition to various displays of strength-based swordsmanship.  In the realm of agility, Jaune may not have been a talented gymnast, but he more than made up for it in grounded speed and parkour even in heavy armor, traversing the battlefield with powerful jumps and running charges while avoiding injury with combat rolls and sidestep evasions.  He has kept pace with most of his teammates without too much strain, dodged boulders thrown by a Petra Gigas, blindsided the Nuckelavee by rushing in while it was distracted, and even moved fast enough to intercept Neopolitan’s lunge at Atlas Academy.  Though tripped up in sparring with Vine Zeki, he was able to effectively freerun with the aid of his shield through the treacherous landscape of the Solitas tundra while perusing the Hound.  Jaune’s reflexes and dexterity were easily his least developed attribute due to his lack of training, though he was by no means slow or crude.  Though he favored simple hack and stab bladework, his attacks were still executed with great precision when needed, aiming for one-hit kills.  Defensively, he had no difficulty responding to projectiles or other incoming attacks, notably raising his shield in time to block most of the obsidian shards Cinder Fall threw through one of the Evacuation Central Location portals despite being right next to the portal at the time.

While Jaune’s high degree of physical performance was extremely impressive even compared to other Huntsmen, easily his most valuable physical characteristic was his incredible resiliency, stamina, and tolerance for pain and injury.  Evan accounting for his large Aura reserves and the properties of his Semblance, the hits that Jaune has worked through are extremely impressive feats.  In his initiation, Jaune, despite having no active Aura to protect him, endured the impact of being pinned to a tree after being launched into the woods, and showed no sign of injury until he got scratched by a tree branch a few minutes later.  In Forever Fall, he suffered a serious beating from Cardin Winchester that left him with a bruised face, yet he was able to engage the Ursa Major almost immediately afterwards, soaking up more hits and ultimately decapitating the creature.  During Team RNJR’s journey to Haven, Jaune worked through a flying rock to the face, physical combat strikes from Tyrian Callows, and numerous mule kicks and blows from the Nuckelavee, yet his Aura never broke or even flickered.  In fact, the first time Jaune’s Aura was ever seen breaking in serious combat was when he expanded it to help shield Nora from a punch Caroline Cordovin’s Colossus mech suit (which I’d like to remind you was a giant robot designed to fight kaiju-sized Grimm), overtaxing his Aura and slamming him into a boulder.  His stamina displayed itself during the Fall of Beacon, the Battle of Haven, and the Battle of Mantle, all of which were long term conflicts that he fought all through yet remained vital and fresh by the end.  In Atlas, Jaune was slammed into a wall by Salem after he burned through his Aura amping Ren, yet was completely uninjured and stayed vital during their escape from the Monstra.  It wasn’t until he was forced into close proximity to Cinder Fall’s explosion in the Evacuation Central Location that his Aura broke again, and yet he still had enough fight left in him to regain his feet and attempt to escape.  Quite simply, Jaune has spent the bulk of his career as a human punching bag, yet he’s still going strong, wars of attrition being his bread and butter.  Jaune was unfortunately saddled with his share of mental hang-ups, his early hubris leading to him making reckless calls before wising up while his traumatic experiences, especially Pyrrha’s death, left him with an inferiority complex that led to him overextending in a misguided idea of sacrificing for his friends.  Fortunately, the influence of those same friends helped Jaune learn from his experiences and maintain his composure, trading away the macho badass for an incredibly strong-willed vanguard.  Even after being forced to kill Penny Polendina following Cinder Fall’s mortal wound, Jaune Arc never faltered, holding his ground against the Fall Maiden’s savage onslaught despite the grief-stricken tears in his eyes.

Reflecting the irony of being physically prepared for Huntsman life despite having no training, Jaune Arc consistently supplemented his well-honed physique with heavy combat armor, providing him from a degree of protection from the dangers of the world of Remnant.  He initially wore only a simple breastplate and shoulder pads, though like the rest of his skill set, his kit evolved and expanded over time.  During his time as an Atlesian Huntsman, he wore a full-plated gold-trimmed cuirass, pauldrons, and gauntlets over a black high collared shirt, while his lower body was garbed in blue jeans and rugged calf-high boots.  His earlier armor upgrade from an unnamed Mistral blacksmith was specifically noted to provide superior protection from Grimm claws, so the updated plating provided by Pietro Polendina was certainly just as durable, and very likely greater.  Though he had no protection below the belt (seriously dude, Adrian needs cousins. get a cup! 😊), the lack of heavy plating still allowed full freedom of movement, maintaining Jaune’s agility.  Easily the most sentimental wardrobe component was Pyrrha Nikos’s red sash adorning his belt, a final reminder of his lost love.

RANKING: Tier 2, Peak Human Fitness

Despite a severe lack of training at the start of his career, Jaune Arc still started out as a prime human specimen, and his numerous ordeals have propelled him to the Huntsman physical apex.  He is a solidly built athlete with powerful performance levels in all areas that can match or even exceed many of his peers, and supplements this with both an extraordinary level of endurance and some of the best armor we’ve seen in the setting so far.  While unassuming at first glance, Jaune’s physique serves as the vehicle for a one-man war of attrition, winning by leveraging his capabilities to stay alive and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike.  But much like his friend Ruby Rose, Jaune’s greatest asset as a physical combatant is his resolve, maintaining his composure even in the face of staunch resistance.  He won’t give up, he won’t break, no matter what.

MARTIAL

Jaune Arc’s primary weapon was Crocea Mors, a collapsible heater shield paired with an arming sword which was originally carried by his great-great grandfather during the Great War, eighty years before the Fall of Beacon.  Despite being an antique compared to what his classmates carried, the weapon remained in excellent condition when Jaune took it with him to Beacon, and it has been further modified and upgraded as he continues his adventures.  The sword was an approximately two and a half foot long double-edged blade outfitted with a golden crossguard and a lengthened handgrip wrapped in blue leather.  The shield, when fully extended, had a rough area of 2.5 square feet and featured an opening at the top to house the sword, its primary feature being to convert into the blade’s scabbard when not in use.  Following modifications from an unnamed Anima blacksmith, the sheath was upgraded to include retractable sharpened edges that could extend upward, transforming it into a stout zweihänder with a heavier blade, enabling far more powerful strikes in combat.  The most recent additions to the shield came from Pietro Polendina in Atlas, who outfitted it with hard-light and gravity Dust generators. The former extended barriers to either edge to improve Jaune’s protective zone, while the latter functioned as a combat repulsor.  Appropriate given its original owner was a soldier rather than a Huntsman, Jaune’s weapon remains one of the simplest and most utilitarian in the setting, form reflecting function even with its various upgrades.  While perfectly capable of slaying Grimm, Crocea Mors was built for war.

As he had never attended a formal combat school nor had grown up with real-world dangers to address, Jaune Arc was woefully unprepared for his early education at Beacon Academy, enrolling on the back of forged transcripts and having amateurish understanding of the field’s basics.  Despite this, Jaune was fortunate enough to survive his initiation, and his ability to coordinate Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren, and Nora Valkyrie in their takedown of a Deathstalker earned him leadership of Team JNPR.  While his early blunders were quite obvious, falling behind in his studies and regularly getting stomped in sparring, Ozpin’s early assessments of the boy’s potential were eventually proven to have merit following his conflict with Cardin Winchester.  After a peptalk with Ruby Rose and his successful killing of an Ursa Major in Forever Fall fed him some crow, Jaune accepted Pyrrha’s offer of private tutoring and began to properly develop as a fighter.  Under her tutelage, Jaune slowly grew into a capable swordsman and began taking his responsibilities as leader more seriously, eventually qualifying for the Vytal Festival and leading his team to victory against Team BRNZ.  While the Fall of Beacon and Pyrrha’s subsequent death cut his formal training short, Jaune continued to train rigorously with her prerecorded lectures during Team RNJR’s journey to Haven Academy and maintained his skill by sparring with his comrades.  But more than anything else, Jaune’s greatest growth came through the trial by fire that was the war with Salem, the threats he encountered forcing him to learn quickly and build his skill set through experience.  Appropriately for a beginner warrior growing through trial and error in the field, Jaune Arc’s fighting technique was an exceedingly simple and direct sword-and-board method, emphasizing the baseline reliability of the practical benefits of his weapon set.  He primarily relied on his shield as the foundation of his technique, using it to intercept or deflect incoming attacks.  He alternated between stalwart stonewall stances and active pushback deflections, holding his ground against everything from gunfire to pouncing Grimm while disrupting their own attacks with sweeps and bashes.  When he did choose to take the offensive initiative, his bladework consisted of a simple yet powerful array of slashes, cleaves, and thrusts, aiming for one-hit kills.  Together, the two weapons enabled a defense-and-counter fighting style, following up his solid blocking sequences with quick sword attacks to quickly disable or kill the target.  Though friendly and kind, Jaune never settled for half-measure, always decapitating, dismembering, amputating, impaling, or otherwise seriously injuring his target.  When utilizing Crocea Mors in its greatsword form, Jaune’s bladework became less refined yet far more powerful, using hacking chops to deal brutal damage, though at the cost of his defensive stance.  Despite lacking variation as a swordsman, Jaune’s simple and loose style was extremely adaptable, allowing him to accommodate to virtually any situation or opponent.  This technique was reinforced by his fluid use of his special abilities, most notably his Dust loadout and Semblance to augment his maneuvers.  However, Jaune has displayed little in terms of alternative disciplines.  Despite possessing a strong physical component in his style, he has never been seen employing hand-to-hand combat in any capacity, and his knowledge of firearms began and ended with blocking bullets.  That being said, he has engaged opponents who do use these methods and survived, most notably Tyrian Callows and James Ironwood, so he clearly knows how to combat them even if he lacked proficiency in using them himself.  Furthermore, he proved to be a competent mounted fighter, delivering strikes from Pietro Polendina’s hoverbike very effectively in Mantle.

For all the strides he made in his training and advancement in spite of his inexperience, what truly put Jaune Arc in step with his peers was his surprising natural talent as a tactician and strategist.  Humbled by his first semester’s failings, Jaune recognized his limitations as one of the least developed fighters of his class, and instead focused on pouring his energies into learning to circumvent them with the aid of his teammates and friends.  While his lack of book smarts would make the tactical display out of his element, his ingenuity and ability to recognize the strengths and weaknesses of both his troops and his enemy’s, even under dangerous high-stress situations, more than made up for it.  Jaune Arc was not a grand strategizing general; he was a boots-on-the-ground frontline commander, and in his tactics, he heavily emphasized adapting to and subverting the opponent while holding out for the long term.  He would open defensively to give him time to assess the threat and give his allies the opportunity to probe for weaknesses.  Once an opening was discovered, he would order a swift and decisive response to exploit it, often by disabling the opponents’ defenses and weapons and forcing them to expose the Achilles Heel.  Against the Deathstalker, Jaune worked with Pyrrha to defend against its claws while Ren weakened the stinger, and upon seeing this had Pyrrha sever it with her shield before propelling Nora into the air to drive it in.  Team RNJR’s battles with the Petra Gigas and Nuckelavee played out similarly, with the beasts ultimately being killed by keeping their limps tied up while leaving its main body vulnerable to Nora’s blows.  The Nuckelavee battle demonstrated Jaune’s ability to apply this thinking to wars of attrition as well, as he and Ruby were able to land several critical strikes on the legs while the head was distracted, wearing it down as they cooked up a decisive finishing strategy.  As far as more intelligent opponents went, Jaune demonstrated his talents during the Vytal Festival match against Team BRNZ, ordering a retreat following the initial exchange before quickly reengaging, working with Ren and Pyrrha to fend off the bulk of the team and flush out May Zedong’s sniper nest so that Nora could blow her to Kingdom Come.  While battlefield situations were Jaune’s specialty, he was still capable of contributing to larger strategic operations, and more importantly, demonstrated an ability to reevaluate and adapt if his plans were derailed.  The best example of this was the confrontation with Caroline Cordovin in Argus.  The plan was to commandeer an Atlas airship by having Weiss Schnee pretend to return home alone before she and Maria Calavera overpowered the pilots and picked up the others, hiding their return by sending Blake Belladonna to disable the relay tower.  However, their hand was tipped when Blake was ambushed by Adam Taurus before she could complete her sabotage, and Cordovin responded by unleashing the gigantic Colossus mech suit.  Despite this colossal setback (pun completely intended), Jaune quickly put together a plan of engagement, exploiting the mech’s bulk by having Weiss, Ren, Qrow Branwen and Calavera harass Cordo and chip away at her defenses while nullifying her firepower by evading her attacks.  Though the final blow was delivered through Ruby’s initiative rather than Jaune’s his overall game plan and trust in his teammates still enabled them to survive and disable the weapon despite the shock of their original strategy failing.

However, while Jaune was a fantastic field leader and achieved several impressive victories, most of these were done through the strengths and abilities of his allies rather than his own.  Jaune’s inexperience and underdeveloped technique left him at a disadvantage whenever he was confronted by a skilled opponent in single combat, his success predicated on his versatility and tactical supremacy rather than his ability to fight.  His first true victory against the Ursa Major demonstrated his tenacity and the raw talent he did have, but he nearly lost his entire Aura during the scuffle and survived only due to Pyrrha’s interference.  Despite pulling his own weight in the Vytal Festival and against Tyrian Callows, his personal performance mostly amounted to soaking up punishment while everyone else tried to make headway.  While Jaune had improved significantly by the time of the Battle of Haven, the psychological strain of his experiences combined with Cinder Fall’s posturing triggered an outburst from the still-grieving Jaune, who recklessly charged the Fall Maiden with his greatsword.  The only reason Jaune lasted as long as he did was because Cinder drew out the fight to play with her food, the closest thing he made to headway being when he scored a superficial graze on her face mask after she was stunned by Ruby’s Silver Eyes.  Fortunately, Jaune managed to get into a much healthier headspace following his time in Atlas and learned from his experiences.  In addition to improving his calm under fire, he managed to apply a solid measure of his tactical sensibilities to personable combat.  This was where his heavy defensive focus truly started to express itself, shifting his focus to protecting himself, his allies, and his charges and only attacking when the blow could efficiently end the immediate threat.  While his core technique was underdone, his tandem use of his alternative abilities allowed him to adjust to different situations even if he couldn’t win himself.

In Mantle, Jaune slew numerous Grimm in the streets by intercepting their attacks before immediately striking back, notably impaling a Sabyr after it jumped onto his shield and later throwing a hard-light Dust grenade into a pack of Sabyrs for them to faceplant into.  While unsuccessful at evading Vine Zeki while sparring in Atlas, he achieved greater success when he fended off Flynt Coal’s Killer Quartet, enduring the assault before closing in and overpowering him.  Against Neopolitan in the Atlas Academy dorms, Jaune managed to intercept her running charge and blew her backward with his gravity Dust repulsor, though he and the rest of his team were ultimately outmaneuvered by the assassin and forced to flee with the arrival of the Atlas security forces.  When confronting James Ironwood two days later, Jaune immediately followed up Emerald Sustrai’s disarmament and kick with a slashing sequence, and though the general was able to stop him and counter, Jaune immediately turned it around with his repulsor, giving Oscar Pine and opportunity to run in and attack himself.  In these various encounters, Jaune demonstrated great skill and fending off direct aggressors and using their energies against them, even when fighting opponents far above his own level like Ironwood.  Rather than just enduring an attack, he brought it to a halt by disrupting their forward advance and landing devastating counters.  Conversely, Jaune was less successful against more subversive opponents who could outmaneuver and undercut him, which is what he faced against Neo and ran into against Tyrian Callows in Oniyuri.  Furthermore, his success was predicated on his ability to strike at the moment of greatest vulnerability, and if unable to get the drop on his target, he could get into trouble very quickly.  Putting these strengths and limits on display was his second confrontation with Cinder Fall during the exodus to Vacuo.  Despite seeing his old nemesis again and witnessing Yang Xiao Long’s apparent death, Jaune remained composed and focused on ensuring the civilians could escape, only engaging himself when the last were gone.  He opened by flying in and blowing Cinder back with his shield and standing with Weiss and Penny Polendina, prepared to coordinate against their more powerful adversary.  Unfortunately, Cinder divided her assailants and mortally wounded Penny, forcing Jaune to tend to her while Weiss was on her own.  After Penny had Jaune reluctantly kill her to keep the Winter Maiden powers out of Cinder’s hands, an enraged Fall lashed out, but Jaune, despite his extreme emotional stress, stood his ground and repelled her.  However, Cinder recovered too quickly for Jaune to properly retaliate, and he was quickly overwhelmed when the Fall Maiden destroyed his weapon.

RANKING: Tier 5, Standard Application

Jaune Arc’s inexperience and limited performance in single combat make it clear that he is not a master, but he still possesses a well-rounded and comprehensive skill set that covers his bases and improves his overall viability.  His greatest asset is his intelligent tactical analysis on the battlefield, enabling him to adapt to situations and exploit weaknesses, even if someone else lands the killing blow instead of him.  In single combat, he can contend with superior martial artists by leveraging his techniques to nullify their offensives and hit them where they don’t expect, though his battles with Cinder and Neo prove that this has its limits.  Appropriately, Jaune Arc wears Pyrrha Nikos’s influence on his sleeve, both being talented albeit thinly spread fighters who compensate for their lack of development by using all of their skills together.  The difference is that where Pyrrha built a special weapon to enable all of her attack options in her technique, Jaune supported his basic technique with strong support gadgets and good armor to provide a margin for error.  Jaune’s feats make him seem better than he actually is, but unlike Volume 1’s macho dofus, Jaune is now aware of this, and has built his tactics accordingly.

SPECIAL

Jaune Arc was a late bloomer when it came to his Semblance, unaware of his abilities even after a year of formal training and thus making him an anomaly among his peers.  It was not until the Battle of Haven that Jaune finally properly manifested his powers.  Named Aura Amp, Jaune’s Semblance allowed him to amplify and enhance the Auras of both himself and others, bolstering the affect of the manifested soul power.  All Auras bless their users with moderate protection from direct injury, mitigating minor wounds, and the ability to utilize their own Semblances.  When amplified by Jaune, these abilities became far more pronounced, strengthening Aura shields far beyond their limits, enhancing the magnitude of a Semblance, and turning the mild regeneration into active healing, this last part easily being the most pronounced of Jaune’s powers.  The first time his Semblance unconsciously activated in the Forever Fall forest, Jaune was able to recover from the beating he took from Cardin Winchester fast enough to immediately engage the Ursa Major. This went even further when he properly unlocked his Semblance at Haven.  After Cinder Fall impaled Weiss Schnee in order to spitefully torment him, Jaune’s emotional distress over another friend being severely injured on his watch, coupled with his need to save Weiss’s life finally caused his powers to properly manifest.  Despite the fact that she had clearly gone into shock and was suffering from serious blood loss, Weiss was able to regain consciousness after mere minutes of treatment, and after a few more had regained enough of her energies to Summon a Queen Lancer and fight through the remainder of the battle.  Making this even more impressive was that Jaune was able to accomplish this instinctively and with little to no effect on his stamina.  Jaune refined his abilities for active use in the following weeks, to the point where he could casually heal the Huntsman Dudley’s broken arm on the Argus Limited, and later treated the battered Oscar Pine after rescuing him from the Monstra.  Beyond healing, Jaune’s ability to amplify Auras allowed him to empower the barriers of others to help them endure incoming attacks.  In Argus, he bolstered himself and Nora Valkyrie to brace against the Colossus’s punch, and thought disabled by the hit, Jaune’s power still saved their lives.  On a smaller though no less impressive scale, Jaune’s amplification proved instrumental in allowing Penny Polendina to resist the effects of Arthur Watts’ computer virus, allowing her human soul to overpower her circuitry.  Most impressive by far was Jaune’s ability to enhance others’ Semblances by adding his strength to their own.  Lie Ren was his most common partner in this, empowering Tranquility to the point where Ren could mask the entire Argus Limited train and whole mobs of civilians in Mantle, as well as conceal at least ten trained Huntsmen from detection by whole armies of Grimm.  When Penny nearly succumbed to Watts’ virus, Jaune’s enhancement of Weiss’s Glyphs allowed them to restrain her long enough to offer aid.  However, Jaune’s Semblance was not without its limits.  Prolonged use could drain his own Aura quickly, and even his own substantial Aura reserves were not limitless.  Furthermore, his healing powers could not mend all injuries, as Nora’s electric scars and the severity of Penny’s mortal wound from Cinder were beyond his ability to heal.

In addition to his Semblance, Jaune added to his arsenal with Dust gadgets during his time in Atlas, specifically the hard-light panels and gravity repulsor built into Crocea Mors’ shield.  Pioneered by Atlas and therefore costly to obtain outside of it, hard-light Dust is most commonly used in the creation of advanced defensive technology, generating tangible panels of energy strong enough to withstand severe kinetic impacts.  The projectors installed in the edges of Jaune’s shield could create barriers approximately a foot and a quarter wide and running down the full length, effectively doubling his range of protection, improving his ability to function as a defensive wall for himself and his allies.  While the strength limits of these projections has never been tested, I do feel they are at least comparable in strength to the shields created by figures such as Weiss Schnee and Arthur Watts, who were able to hold back the White Fan Lieutenant’s brutish chainsaw blows and block high-caliber gunfire from Due Process respectively.  More contemporary but no less potent, gravity Dust affected forces of push and pull in ways meant to facilitate adhesion, propulsion, and levitation, traits that made it an extremely common fuel in vehicles.  When applied combatively, gravity Dust used these same properties to function as limited telekinetic attacks, usually through the guided manipulation of thrown weapons, enhancing the tactile striking power of manual weapons, or, in the case of Jaune, powerful offensive shockwaves.  Outfitted in the center of the shield, Jaune’s repulsor enabled him to project bursts of power that pushed out in all directions, strong enough to repel charging enemies and deflect attacks though not enough to actively damage his environment.  Though unable to injure Neo, Ironwood and Cinder directly, the repulsor was still strong enough to stagger them, potentially setting up for a follow up strike.  This weapon in particular became Jaune’s most readily utilized combative tool, his favorite tactic being to activate it just as the opponent came within striking distance, essentially delivering shield bashes with a touch of a button.  Despite only recently taking these gadgets up, Jaune quickly became highly profieient in their use, smoothly integrating these abilities into his overall fighting method and together with one another.  In addition to combining the functions to turn his shield into a makeshift hang glider, Jaune could project the gravity waves to push back obstacles while activating the hard-light panels to cover his flanks, using this very method to clear away a pack of Centinels while infiltrating the SDC mine.  This combination tactic further demonstrated Jaune’s approach of utilizing all his abilities together as part of a greater fighting method, getting around his lack of power and skill through versatility and logistics.  At the same time however, Jaune’s Dust abilities had their own individual limits. The hard-light panels were a very specialized tool, and Ironwood’s ability to penetrate Watt’s barriers proves that even special Atlas Dust can’t take a beating forever.  While the gravity repulsor gave Jaune an offensive option, the kinetic output wasn’t sufficient to injure or kill, forcing Jaune to rely on other means to decisively defeat his adversary.

Regarding Jaune’s use of his special abilities in live combat, he clearly emphasized versatility over lethality, sacrificing offensive might for tactical supremacy.  While his Semblance’s properties have been most impressively demonstrated on external subjects, Jaune can and has used the power on himself to potentially decisive effect.  While training in Atlas, Oscar Pine observed that Jaune’s Aura was recovering at a significantly faster rate than usual, which leads me to believe that, similarly to Hazel Rainart’s Numbing Agent, Aura Amp functions as a minor healing factor to help Jaune replenish his energies.  Unlike Rainart, however, Jaune’s active use of his Semblance can allow him to do this on command and more quickly, which, combined with Aura Amp’s healing properties, makes him one of the only characters with the ability to mitigate his own injuries in the field.  Both of his Dust gadgets follow similar patterns of improving Jaune’s survivability, the hard-light shields artificially bolstering his martial defense while the gravity repulsor adds a layer of counteroffensive.  The latter has proven effective and giving Jaune a punch against opponents above his own level, successfully repelling Neopolitan, James Ironwood, and even Cinder Fall TWICE.  However, much like his martial skills, Jaune’s effectiveness as an ethereal combatant is predicated on his breadth of tools rather than their magnitude of his native proficiency. His Semblance is almost entirely a tactical support power, and its various powers still have their limitations that make its efficacy in single combat suspect.  While a number of factors were at play when Jaune was forced to euthanize Penny, the narrative framing makes it clear that the severity of her injuries would have been beyond his ability to repair even if he had time and shelter.  As far as his Dust abilities are concerned, Jaune may make creative integrations of his powers into his fighting style, but neither his shields nor repulsor have the means to decisively end the battle on his terms.  The effectiveness of the gravity repulsor is based around its ability to stagger the opponent and set up for a counterattack, meaning its effectiveness is significantly reduced if the opponent recovers quickly enough to exploit Jaune’s lack of skill as a martial artist.  Against Neopolitan, the attack was able to disrupt her forward charge and launch her down the hall, prompting her to retreat.  Against Ironwood, Jaune had the support of his allies, with Oscar rushing in to attack immediately after the Dust activated, while Weiss and Penny were clearly preparing to do the same against Cinder.  Jaune wasn’t so lucky when he was forced to fight Cinder on his own, their final bout taking place when Weiss was already disabled and Penny was dead.  With only his native abilities as support, Jaune’s final push against Cinder merely provoked her, and her quick recovery allowed the Fall Maiden to rally and shatter his weapon, Jaune’s survival owing entirely to the timely arrival of Winter Schnee.

RANKING: Tier 5, Limited Combat

Much like his fighting abilities, Jaune Arc’s special powers are comprehensive and versatile, but they lack the development to reliably set the battle on his terms.  His Semblance offers various supportive abilities that improve his survivability in the field, while the traits of his Dust loadout add layers to his fighting style, all coming together to cover all of his bases for just about any combat situation.  At the same time, he lacks the developed skill with these powers to properly control the engagement, getting by through the breath of his skill set and his intelligent use of all of his skills.  Rather than mastery of his abilities, Jaune Arc relies on clever gadgets to artificially elevate his fighting style into something greater than the sum of its parts, and his baseline reliability hinges on circumstantial factors.  However, Jaune ‘s limitations do not make him any less of a threat, and his cunning use of the various tricks in his bag means that he can still comfortably engage any situation even if he can’t always win.

OVERALL RANKING: TIER 5, STANDARD HUNTSMAN

Compared to the true masters of his era, Jaune Arc is not a particularly exceptional combatant, but he is still significantly above the rank-and-file.  On the back of his martial skills and special abilities, Jaune stands as the archetypical example of a Tier 5 combatant in the RWBY setting.  His foundation stands on his rock-solid physical attributes, his exceptional athletic performance levels giving him parity with better trained opponents and his inhuman resiliency giving him the ability to work through the hits he needs to take, further supplemented by top tier combat armor.  With his versatile weapon set, solid general purpose fighting technique, potent empowering Semblance, and flexible set of Dust tools, Jaune possesses an extremely comprehensive skill set that leaves him prepared for just about any combat situation, but his lack of developed skill means that none of these attributes are elevated to a degree that can decisively tip the scales of the battle in his favor, leaving him spread thin and vulnerable against more skilled adversaries.  However, being a jack of all trades/master of none does not make one an inept combatant, as Jaune’s attributes still give him a degree of adaptability and grit that many more specialized fighters tend to lack.  Jaune’s saving grace is his tactical mindset, allowing him to circumvent his limitations by using all of his assets, be they his own or those of his allies, together as a layered combative tool to stay alive and win in the long term.  Furthermore, despite his lack of formal training, Jaune has spent almost his entire career either on the battlefield or contending against opponents far above his own level, and he has still survived.

Jaune Arc’s ranking shows that he is not yet a true master combatant and still has a long way to go before truly matching his peers, but his track record also makes it very clear that he is growing very quickly and will undoubtably match or exceed them. He is a rising star, only held back by a series of roadblocks that continue to temper him. Jaune entered Beacon feeling that to be a Huntsman and a hero was to be a mighty warrior standing on his own laurels, though the harsh realities have not only shattered this narrow worldview but also brought out Jaune’s true route to greatness. Similarly, Pyrrha’s death led him to believe that self-sacrifice was all he was good for if it meant giving his friends a chance to survive, but those very friends made it clear that throwing his life away would only hurt them more. Instead of laying waste to armies of enemies as a one man badass, he has grown into a stalwart defender dedicated to surviving to protect those that cannot do so themselves. Rather than the lethal blade of his sword, it is the impenetrable shield in his off hand that has come to define the kind of hero that Jaune Arc is. He will stand firm against evil for the sake of others, holding out as long as he must while searching for ways to end the threat with as little lives lost as possible. The strength of this shield need only be gauged by what it and its wielder has endured. The Breach, the Fall of Beacon, the Battle of Haven, the Atlas Crisis; Jaune Arc survived all this and more, and he has emerged all the stronger and wiser for it. Pyrrha Nikos saw more in Jaune than the rest of them did, and I think it’s safe to say that she could not have been prouder of who he has become; as a Huntsman, as a leader, as a warrior, and more than anything else, as a man.

*originally posted on RoosterTeeth Community page on 06-8-22*

* images taken from RWBY Wiki*

RWBY Combat Analysis