idk man. i just think itd be really cool if sign language classes were mandatory throughout primary school. yeah because it would make communication with deaf kids and autistic/nonverbal kids much easier. and those kids would be accessible to the others so they could make friends and have healthy relationships. yeah. and kids would eat that shit up man. like their own little secret language? they love that.
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Ok, the entire serial killer thing aside, Alastor would be an amazing Lavender Husband.
Lavender Marriages were marriages of convenience between a man and a woman to conceal the socially stigmatized sexual orientation of one or both partners.
Just, think about it. As a woman in the early 20th century in the United States you'd have close to zero freedom. Barely with a right to vote, women still couldn't live independently.
Now, while married to Alastor you'd have guaranteed freedom from any form of unwanted martial sexual activities. No unwanted touches either!
Alastor holds deep admiration, and respect for women (due to his mother) and has always preferred feminine company. This guy would actually be interested in what you have to say! Your opinions, beliefs, dreams - all of those are valid and he's unironically listening to them.
Thanks to his mother, he'd never make you beg for money in times when you can't even open your own bank account. He'd also support you in your own employment. If the workplace requires your husband's permission he'd just sign it and move on with his day.
Don't even get me started on entertainment with this guy! He plays the piano, he's a good dancer, he's charming and charismatic enough to work as a radio host. You'd never be bored with him! Even if you're more of an indoors, bookish person he would just leave you to it. He's completely capable of having his separate life and you never have to worry about him cheating on you.
Bedsides, if anyone wrongs you you do know they won't go unpunished...
While he might not give you complete freedom when it comes to decorating your house, you can live sound and be sure that he'd never hit you no matter how drunk he'd be.
Like, considering times, especially if you are a PoC - he's a jackpot!
Alexia knows she’s in trouble the second she walks in the room.
She’s a 2 time Ballon d'Or winner, now a 4 time Champions League holder, but the mere sight of you has her trembling in her flats.
You’re hidden away in the corner, caught in conversation with another family member of one of her teammates, but your presence just demands attention. Anyone and everyone seems to stop by to greet you, to get a word in. Whether it be in genuine excitement to meet you, or poorly disguised attempts to talk business, you’re polite, pausing the clear conversation you’re already in the middle of and putting on a well practiced smile.
If she tilts her head just right, it brings her back to the person you used to be. Years ago when Alexia first met you, stumbling and making a fool out of herself before you even shot up in fame.
She should’ve known at that point, but both of you were younger then. And she was too prideful to let your teasing remarks make an imprint on her.
(Or so she’d like to believe)
“Ale!” Alexia can feel her breath physically leave her body when you spot her, face splitting into a wide grin. Her face feels warm, unable to escape as you cross the room in a few strides. Your hug is almost as quick, leaving her craving to feel your touch again.
“La Reina, champion again,” you sigh, feigning faint at her mere presence.
“Callate,” she mutters sheepishly. Alexia quickly runs a hand through her still wet hair, suddenly wishing she had done more after the game to make herself look more presentable.
You’re Aitana’s sister so of course it made sense you’d be here at the game. But how was Alexia to know you were actually coming? Aitana didn’t give her any word of warning.
Though why would she. Aitana definitely was not there the night Alexia realized she was a goner. It started with a lingering hand at hello, more than enough shots somewhere in the middle, and ended with lips locked and her expensive underwear hanging from a lamp in her bedroom.
She woke to your hand running along her back, a whispered apology about a modeling gig across the ocean. Alexia was still groggy with sleep when you pressed a kiss to her forehead and left, leaving nothing but her memories and displaced clothes to prove you were ever there.
And here you are, nearly a year later, looking so good.
You’re wearing a Barcelona jersey, no doubt Aitana’s name on your back. But she feels the pride nonetheless; her childhood club’s colors look good on you.
Alexia’s not ashamed to say she gets lost in conversation with you. People walk by, and unlike before, you barely glance their way if they try to get your attention. She doesn’t pay them any mind either. Some of her teammates drop by to say hello and that’s as much as either of you are willing to entertain.
The conversation moves from the game to your work to your life in London. And as all things do, it eventually goes back to her and the rumors surrounding her future at Barcelona.
You look genuinely interested when she tells you of her tentative plans to leave Spain.
“Where do you think you’d go?”
Alexia shrugs. “Not sure. There is a lot of interest, offers from all over the world. New York. Manchester. London.”
“London,” you repeat. Once. Then twice. A knowing smirk makes its way to your face. “If you wanted to be my wag, you could’ve just asked.”
“No!” she sputters, eyes widening at your insinuation. Of course she knew you lived there. It wasn’t the only reason she was considering going to London though. “London City has a team--”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong. It’s cute.” You’re teasing now, enjoying her panicked expression. “I just didn’t know you were that forward. I guess I could ask Jana to giv--”
“I’m not trying to be forward! And no, you do not need to ask Jana to do anything. I was already offered a contract.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Signing papers already? Put a ring on it first.”
Alexia blinks. “Wha-- we, you-- we’re not dating!”
“Yet. Repeat after me, we’re not dating yet.” Your grin turns into a smirk. “No thanks to you and those failed attempts you call flirting.”
You don’t give her any time to defend herself, next words making Alexia choke on the air.
“You would think after a girl’s seen your boobs she’d try to make things official but…” you trail off with a sigh, not missing the look of alarm that crosses Alexia’s face.
It’s just then Aitana decides to make her entrance. Her step flatters, eyebrows scrunching in disgust.
She looks between the two of you, to Alexia’s clear discomfort and your pleased smile.
“I’m not even going to ask. I don’t want any context.”
“Mi hermana!” You throw your arms around your sister, hug nearly lifting her off her feet. “You played so well. I’m so proud of you.”
Aitana returns your hug almost as hard. It’s been a while since she’s seen you last. Between her commitments and yours, there was barely any time where the two of you could spend any meaningful time together.
You keep an arm looped around her shoulder, pulling Aitana into your side. You drop your voice, but still loud enough for the woman in front of you to hear. “Ale wants to follow me to London. Crazy fan behavior.”
“I’m not--” Alexia breaks off with a strangled noise, pinching the bridge of her nose. You’re going to give her white hairs some day. “No one is following anyone anywhere.”
“Alexia, you’ve seen her naked and you’re still being called a crazy fan? How lame is your game?”
She stares at the two of you. Mouth agape. Lost for words.
Standing side by side, the resemblance is insane. Even if she didn’t already know you were sisters, the way both of you were smiling, with the slight twinge of mischievousness in your eyes, left no one guessing.
“My ‘game’ is fine. You Bonmatís are crazy.”
“Yet you still want to follow me to London.”
Alexia’s eye twitches.
“I’m leaving.”
“To London,” you nod.
“Nope. This conversation.”
Aitana snickers.
You grin. “To prepare for your departure to London.”
Alexia gives you the stink eye, slowly backing away. “Leaving now. Goodbye!”
You can’t resist one more cheeky comment, even as Alexia turns her back to you.
“I have a spare spot in my bed for you when London becomes your calling!”
The middle finger you receive back tells you all you need to know.
pairing: choi seungcheol x oc
summary: after a long, tiring day and a case of birthday blues, seungcheol realizes when his best friend shows up past midnight with cheesecake slice, a candle, and her warmth that she’s the only light he needs.
genre: fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers
length: 587 words
a/n: i wrote this out of pure brainrot on cheol's birthday and originally had the dialogues in filipino but i feel like posting that version more on my x account. let me know if i should write a longer one cause i feel like practicing my writing again haha
a piece of unlit cigarette stick and a lighter sat on his dashboard waiting for him.
seungcheol doesn’t exactly know why he felt like shit or if it’s just a case of birthday blues. That was until his best friend knocked on his car window holding a slice of cheesecake with a small candle on top of it.
he leans his head through the headboard with a smile as he lowered the car window down.
“happy birthday to you!” she still smiled brightly as if they weren’t working non-stop for a project all day. “i know it’s past midnight. my greeting’s late but i have cake. with a candle, too.”
she extends her hand and reaches for the lighter on his dashboard dropping the cigarette stick. “oh shit. sorry!”
he shrugged it off. “it’s fine. get in.”
she slid in the passenger seat, brought out the lighter, lit the candle and held the cake slice towards him.
cheol’s lips pulled upward into a soft smile, patiently stares at the burning wick until there was a silent pause. “aren’t you supposed to sing again?”
“i thought you already made a wish, dummy!”
“i wish for 8 hours of sleep” He says then closes his eyes.
“no, that doesn’t count.”
“what do you mean it doesn’t count?”
“because you said it out loud!”
“but that is MY wish!”
“8 hours of sleep. that is so lame. that’s impossible.”
“wha—why are you so concerned about my wish. it’s my birthday.”
“fine! you get your 8 hours of sleep. 4 hours at night and then another 4 in the morning. geez. whatever.” she moved the cake closer to him, the burning candle almost too close to his face.
“thank you.” he sighed. rolled his eyes. looks her in the eye and sees her staring back at him anticipating as she finishes singing him another happy birthday song.
another pause.
“you look so excited. is it really my birthday?” he chuckled and watched her shoulders drop.
“god, i swear, i can just throw this cake away.”
“alright! i’ll make that damn wish.” he then closed his eyes. for real this time. all he wished for at the moment was a pause. a time to rest. that rest that he forgot about because he chose to drown himself of work as soon as he got the birthday blues.
“happy birthday!” she handed him the cake and he placed a hand over hers to get it until the cake slice was sitting on his palm. there was lingering warmth.
“thank you.” he said softly. he knew to his core that she wasn’t the type of person who did this for others. only to those who mattered most to her. so this. this meant a lot to him. especialy after a tiring heck of a day.
“hey!” one of the studio staffs, joshua calls out. “we’ve wrapped up an hour ago. go home, you two.”
they both smile at him. “yeah, we were just talking. be safe!” cheol replied with a salute.
as joshua walked away, she unlocked the door and stepped outside. “i don’t owe you any special birthday shoutouts now.” then half-closed the door. “oh right! forgot i wasted that cigarette of you—”
“s’fine. i don’t need it anymore.”
“okay.” she pushes the door shut.
“can you get your stuff real quick? i’ll drive you home.” he told her as if it was a command. “as a thank you… for the cake.”
she smiles. “copy, boss. you’re welcome.”
seungcheol watched as she walked away from the car and exhaled.
maybe he didn’t need to light another cigarette stick again.
all he needed was his best friend.
she does things that instantly light up his world.
Your baby is just the sweetest little creature ever. You picked her up on the side of the road when she was about a year old and did your best to nurse her back to full health. She’s been with you through thick and thin.
Something something you meet Ghost at work and started dating him. Blah blah boring backstory stuff.
Anyway. Simon comes over for the first time and, immediately, your cat hates him. Hissing and swatting and growling at him anytime Simon gets too close.
You’re so apologetic about it, scolding your cat for scratching Simon when he was just trying to sit on the couch or biting him whenever he wrapped his arm around you.
Simon says it’s fine, that he doesn’t mind, even though it hurts his heart a little bit. He gets worried that maybe you’ll break up with him because of it — there were already oddities and possible complications in your relationship considering all of his issues — but you reassure him that it’s fine and your cat is just being a brat about not getting all the attention anymore.
Every time that Simon comes over for the next few years you have to grab your cat and make sure that she doesn’t jump him the second that he comes through the door.
At some point, Simon sits down with you and decides to take off his mask for the first time. Obviously he’d pulled it up over his nose for kisses and to eat, but he’d never taken it off fully before.
You guys are having this emotional moment where you reassure him that you’ll love him no matter what, that his scars don’t make him any less gorgeous to you, when your cat comes around the corner of the hall.
The second you see her, you’re prepared to cover Simon’s face to make sure that she doesn’t attack the newly exposed skin. She doesn’t do that, though. Instead, she slowly approaches and hops up into his lap.
She starts purring immediately, letting out the sweetest meows and propping herself up on his chest. She rubs her face all over his before climbing up onto his shoulders and getting comfortable there.
You and Simon are, obviously, a little shocked at the sudden switch, but you take advantage of it. “See, Si? Even she thinks you’re the most handsome man ever.” You cuddle on the couch with your cat curled up next to Simon’s head, purring like a machine and making biscuits into his hair.
The next morning, Simon puts the mask back on to go to work, and immediately your cat is attacking him again. That’s when it dawns on you that she doesn’t like the skull mask.
You burst out laughing and ask Simon to take it off again. He does as told, and your cat blinks at him before meowing and demanding pets.
Mask on? Your cat is aggressive and mean.
Mask off? Your cat is the sweetest most loving baby for Simon to pet and hold.
He stops wearing the mask around your house after that :)
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Note: So this is basically the fic where I came out to myself as aroace. Yeaaahhhhh
Setting: scifi medical, militaristic, wartime world.
Location: Hollowroot Medical FacilityCW: Partial nudity (don't worry, no undies come off) // jokey mentions of sexual relations, but nothing explicit // coming out (kinda?).
Masterlist
Surface Tension
Mish woke up to the obnoxious sound of bleating coming from the door. The voice was unmistakably Riko's.
Mish groaned.
How was the noise coming through the door? It was meant to be sound proofed.
Another bleat. A long, sustained "meeehh" that was somehow both nasal and guttural. Annoying. Piercing. Shredding through her precious somnolence.
Mish dragged her hand over her face. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the pillow over her head.
"ThunderGoat to DoomSquirrel. Come in, DoomSquirrel."
Mish ground her teeth together.
The simulated sound of static followed. "Bzzsstt. Come in, DoomSqui--"
Mish launched herself violently out of her cot, and made it to the door in three strides. She yanked the door open, and Riko fell in, in an ungainly sprawl. His lips were still pursed from having been pressed to the seam of the door.
He was still wearing his med tech uniform. Dishevelled, as usual.
"Riko, if you're here to raid my stash of snacks again, I swear I will end you."
Riko rolled onto his back. Pressed his head against the floor so he was looking at her upside down. Prone, he pushed himself across the floor toward her. His wiry frame took up almost all the floor space.
"I'm hurt you'd think that's all I want from you. Maybe I'm here for a booty call. Maybe I need a friendly listening ear. Maybe--"
His hand rose towards her snack basket. She slapped it away, lifted the basket abruptly out of reach.
"Noooo..." he moaned with feeling. His splayed fingers followed the basket as she moved over his head and stashed it in the tiny alcove above the sink. He dropped his hands dramatically onto his chest.
Mish picked up her pillow from the floor and sank tiredly onto her cot.
"What do you want, Riko. My shift starts early. I really need sleep."
He rolled over, and raised himself on his elbows. His face split in a mischievous grin.
"This is better. Bring a towel."
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He keyed a long sequence into the door pad, whistled a note that sounded uncannily like the unlock tone, and the door slid open.
It was the therapy pool. Glowing in the dark. Steaming gently. Empty.
She had never seen it empty.
Mish's mouth fell open. "Riko! How?"
He hustled her in, and the door hissed shut behind them. He giggled giddily.
"A couple of months back, I saw that the pool was due for maintenance. I tweaked the maintenance timelog so the system would think it would take twelve hours instead of ten."
"But the coma patients and the hydrotherapy protocols..."
"Two additional hours in a stasis pod isn't going to kill anyone."
Mish squealed, her hand over her mouth.
"I haven't swum since I was... since..."
"Since you were ten. You told me."
Her eyes wide. Delighted. Her eyes turned to the pool. She was vibrating with barely contained joy.
"Go."
"I'm going."
"Go, Mish."
"Give me a minute."
She took a deep breath. Then dropped her towel on the floor and started stripping out of her standard issue sleepgear to her undergarments.
Before she was done, Riko was streaking past her in his boxers. He let out a yodel that reverberated off the tiled walls and cannonballed into the water. Mish joined him seconds later, laughing wildly.
+++++++++++++++
The only light came from inside the pool, casting luminous turqouise ribbons across the wall tiles. Steam hung in the air, moving slow.
Mish was on the edge of the pool, kicking her feet slowly under the water. Riko surfaced next to her, pushing wet hair out of his eyes.
"The water tastes weird. Why does the water taste weird?"
"Med gel," she said. "From the stasis pods."
"Yuck." Riko shuddered.
A long, companionable moment of silence. Vapour curled up from their skin.
"What's that?" she said, jerking her chin at a barcode near the inside of his elbow.
Riko looked down to where she was pointing.
"This? Ah, yes... First tragic loss of my young life. The barcode for NeuroPop gummies. No idea why they'd discontinue them.”
Mish rolled her eyes. "People were having hallucinations."
"That was the point of them."
"How about those?" She pointed out a little row of tiny food icons on the side of his torso, along his ribs. A little apple. A rice cake. A noodle cup. She couldn't see the rest around the curve of his ribs. Each one looked like it had been tattooed at a different time.
He looked. "These? First things I ate after each time I almost coded on the frontline."
Mish's face went still, but she didn't say anything.
Riko smile quirked. "My favourite was the Zenthian mandarin orange after shrapnel almost got me. Ever had one? Orange, not the shrapnel. I'd run through fire to have one again. The noodle cup is a close second--"
He saw her face. Redirected smoothly.
"Hey, show me one of yours."
"How do you know I have any?"
Riko flicked a drop of water at her. "You do."
"I do." She grinned. Peeled back the waistband of her shorts to expose a tattoo on her hip bone. An elegant line, like a reed, bending.
"A reminder to flex, not break."
Riko smiled.
She pulled her leg out of the water. Turned her foot so he could see the tiny x on the back of her heel.
"To remind me not to go backwards."
Riko rested his chin on one hand and reached out his other, tracing the x with a finger.
"Beautiful. And I have a snack barcode."
Her nose crinkled with her smile. "Without it, how would anyone know how much you cost?"
Riko laughed.
The water lapped softly.
Riko spoke first. "Hey, how are things with that doctor guy? The devastatingly good-looking one with the white temple streaks?"
Mish sighed. "Dr. Venn? Ended."
"No. I thought he was just your type. Distinguished. Mature."
"Whiny. Needy. Entitled."
"Ah."
She looked at him. "I heard Killi asked you out."
"Yeah, she did."
"She's cute."
"She is." Riko blew bubbles under the water line. Then thought better of it.
"We went out a couple of times. I felt bad to say no. Her eyes... that woman weaponises the way she looks at people."
Mish laughed. "Yeah, I've seen it."
"She started trying to unbuckle my belt after the second date. I told her my lab results were technically clean, but I was still itching."
Mish barked out an inelegant laugh. "So that's why that story's been spreading."
Riko chuckled. He went quiet.
"I don't think I'm built that way. For anyone."
Mish tilted her head, studying him. Something unreadable passed over her face. She made a noncommittal sound in her throat.
The silence stretched between them.
Then, lightly: "Not even for me?"
The silence changed. Took on a frozen edge.
Riko looked up slowly at her, stricken.
Mish grinned. "Look at your face. You've survived blasts and hallucinatory snacks, and this is what ends you? Weak."
Riko laughed with relief, his hand clutched over his heart.
"God, Mish."
Silence stretched comfortably between them.
Riko looked up at her again.
"Thank you."
She looked at him. "What for?"
"For... I don't know, really. For not... For not... steering it somewhere I couldn’t follow.""
She dripped water on his head. “Wrong coordinates for me too.”
He took her hand, put it against his cheek and leaned into it.
The moment ended gently. He pulled himself out of the water, sat beside her.
"Grav's been asking me when we're getting together," he said.
"Yeah, the girls in my unit have been asking the same thing. And Venn is still trying to get back. Annoying."
Riko shrugged. "I don't really care."
"I do." Mish swirled the surface of the water with a finger. "It's exhausting."
"Just ignore them." He wiggled his long fingers in the air, like he was waving away a bad idea.
Mish frowned.
"What if," she said. Riko angled towards her, and he watched the crease between her eyebrows smooth out.
She turned to him. "What if we... just... stopped denying it?"
Riko looked at her. A grin started spreading on his face.
"Let them think we're smoochy heart buddies? Let them think we're doing the boinky doinky?"
Mish made a face. "Nobody calls it that."
Riko pushed out his chest and thudded his fist against it. "That's because they have no poetry in their soul."
"Would you mind? It would save me so much... energy."
“Mind? I would love it. Takes me off the meat market. Plus, think of the fun: locking ourselves in closets, moaning rhythmically, knocking things around, coming out with stupid grins and fetchingly tousled hair--”
"Oh God, I am starting to regret this--"
A sound at the door. Both their heads whipped around.
The beeping of the keypad and a muffled curse behind the door. "It won't open-"
Both of them at the same time: "Shit."
Then Riko, hissing, "Go!"
They ran for their clothes and towels, scooped everything up and pelted for the side exit, their laughter edged with mild hysteria.
+++++++++++++++
This one's a standalone story featuring my OCs in a pretty whumpy story universe, but this specific story isn't whumpy at all.
Genre-wise It's more fluffy? But it's particularly close to my heart, because it was through doing some research on orientations that I came to realise that not only is my OC Riko aroace, but I myself am too. Blew my mind and destabilised my reality for a while.
if you're up to it, leave a comment! Even if its an emoji. I'll promise I will love it and try to eat it.
Over and out ⚡️
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Masterlist
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