#Like I see one at least a few times a week and I'm like 'You literally just stole an entire thread word for word'

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[octuscle]

Exchange student: Athens (GA)

Benjamin was not particularly happy that he had come to Georgia as an exchange student. Athens... He had wanted something in New England. Or at least in California. But he hadn't been able to choose. Athens had taken him.

The introductory week had been a disappointment. His fellow students were almost exclusively from the neighborhood, the boys were interested in football and hunting rifles, the girls in boys. It was all so clichéd that it was hard to express. But there was actually a very good grand piano in the assembly hall and Benjamin had been given permission to use it for his daily exercises after a short audition. He had not yet met his roommate. He wasn't due to return to university until a week later because of some family business. Benjamin was hoping for someone who was also interested in classical music and expressionism. Or at least someone who was also studying literature, art history or something similar.

It was the night from Saturday to Sunday when the door opened with a huge crash at around 02:00. Someone threw a duffel bag onto the bed and turned on the light. Benjamin blinked startled at the sudden light. He couldn't see anything against the light. But it smelled of sweat and a few other things he couldn't identify. The shadow took off his shirt, threw it on the floor and sat down on the other bed. Benjamin's eyes adjusted to the light and he began to recognize something.

"Well howdy, you must be Ben. I'm Hunter, no lie, that's my name, partner. Shoo, it ain't even 2 o'clock yet. What in tarnation are ya doin' in bed?" Benjamin was disgusted. He would have to share the room with a redneck. He turned around and mumbled, “Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to sleep.” Hunter just said, “Well, that’s on you if ya overlook somethin’, darlin’,” rummaged in his duffel bag and disappeared again. It must have been around 04:00 when he returned. Now it also smelled of booze. Benjamin pretended to be asleep, even though Hunter was making a lot of noise. After he had finished clearing out his things, Benjamin heard him burp loudly a few more times. And soon he was snoring.

When Benjamin's alarm clock rang at 07:00, Hunter was still snoring. He was lying naked on the comforter. Benjamin had to admit with envy that he was well trained. His butt was firm. His upper body was deeply tanned and Hunter was pale below the waist. A guy who worked out in the fresh air. Benjamin's cock got hard. He quickly grabbed his scrubs and headed for the washrooms. He wanted to be at the Georgia Museum of Art early. When he returned to his room, freshly showered, Hunter was lying awake on his bed. Jerking off his morning wood. “Well, howdy there, early riser! Ain't that somethin'! You fixin' to hit the pavement for a run?” Benjamin turned around, embarrassed. Because he didn't want to disturb Hunter while he was wanking. And because his own cock was leaking precum into his boxer shorts. “No thanks, I wanted to go to the museum.” “Real neat, we got one 'round these parts? Been here a whole year and didn’t even know. Might just tag along next time, if y'know what I mean.” “That would be nice,” Benjamin replied as he hurriedly got dressed and left the room. He had to go to the washrooms again before he went to the museum. He really needed to wank. He thought about Hunter.

He wasn't really focused in the museum. At the beginning, he made sketches of the halls and the works of art on display. He was actually surprised by the quality. There were top-class works here. But when he caught himself doodling a stag in his notebook the third time, he decided that he would probably be better off getting some fresh air. He took his rucksack out of his locker and left the museum. The fresh air did him good. Benjamin walked along Campus Road. He passed the Georgia Museum of Natural History. It was still early. He went inside.

Natural history wasn't really his hobby. But Benjamin was fascinated by the dioramas of the local animal world. He enthusiastically made sketches of the deer. Why the hell had he already made them at the art museum? And why were the deer he was drawing now often hunted prey? He probably just couldn't get Hunter out of his head. He was getting a hard-on again. Benjamin made his way back to the dormitory. Hunter and he hadn't got off to a good start. But now he would like to put that right.

"Down at th’ park wit’ the boys, tossin’ sum balls ‘round. Y’all come on by if ya wanna join!" The note was on Ben's pillow. There was a lot else lying around the room. It was as if a bomb had gone off. Hunter was obviously not the tidiest of people. There was a camouflage T-shirt on the floor. Benjamin pressed it to his face. It smelled of sweat and masculinity. He couldn't help it. He had to jerk off again. This time it came with unexpected force. Shit, on the floor, on the bed, his cum was everywhere. He took one of his dirty towels from the laundry basket and tried to clean it up as best he could. And then he made his way to the park. He had to watch Hunter play football with his buddies.

Benjamin had to search a bit to find Hunter and his friends. But it was worth it. A gang of young rednecks in the prime of their youth, on their way to becoming real men. Their muscles were glistening with sweat, their mullets sticking wet to their heads. “Yo, Ben!” Hunter shouted when he saw Benjamin. Benjamin was amazed that Hunter had recognized him. Hunter ran up to him and did a fist bump, which Benjamin returned somewhat awkwardly. “Hey there, what in tarnation are ya doin’ just standin’ ‘round like a bump on a log? Get yourself changed and hit that field!” Benjamin said that he had nothing to change into. “Floyd, you knucklehead! You got your gym gear?” Hunter yelled across the pitch. He, who was presumably Floyd, yelled back “Sure thing!”. Hunter went to a bag and threw it to Benjamin. “Here ya go, this oughta fit ya, Big fella!” Benjamin was a little embarrassed to just change in the open field. But there was no turning back now. The last time he had played football was five years ago. And he had been bad. Really bad. Now he was standing on a field in sweaty, oversized clothes belonging to a guy he didn't know called Floyd and had to play football with a guy he hardly knew, but had already wanked off on twice today. The ball flew towards him. Benjamin caught it with a leap. “To me!” roared Hunter. And with a powerful and precise pass, the ball flew to Hunter. “Bloody hell!” thought Benjamin.

The sun was about to set. The boys were lying on the grass, drinking some kind of isotonic thirst quencher. They had all taken off their shirts. Hunter's head was on Benjamin's stomach. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, buddy! You best be chowin' down more and hittin' them weights less. That belly of yours ain’t got no softness to cuddle up to!” “In your dreams!” replied Benjamin, tousling Hunter's wet hair. Damn, he was well on his way to becoming a jock... Benjamin and Hunter spent the evening together, when the sun went down, they went to the movies and then out for a burger. Benjamin had never spent a Sunday like this before. It felt wrong. But it felt so good!

The next morning, Hunter's alarm clock rang at 05:30. “Dude, running and gym!” he said as he shook Benjamin awake. Benjamin had done more sport yesterday than he had ever done in his life. But without argument, he put on Floyd's dirty and sweaty clothes and the two of them set off. Benjamin actually had his first lecture at 08:30. English poetry of the 19th century. But he couldn't leave Hunter to bench press on his own. And so it was 09:00 when he arrived in the lecture hall. In his sweaty gym clothes. Without his homework. His professor asked him to join her after the lecture to explain to him clearly that this was not the performance she expected. And that he would stink. Benjamin raised his arm and took a deep breath from his armpit. “You're damn right,” he said, nodding appreciatively. His cell phone vibrated. “Fucc dude, 4got my laptop.  Bring it by, bruh. Warnell school of 4estry and natural resources” Benjamin knew where that was. Behind the natural history museum. Next lecture wasn't for another hour. Benjamin sprinted home, grabbed the computer from Hunter's desk and ran into the department. “I'm at the entrance, bro,” he wrote. ‘Cum 2 the library,’ Hunter replied. Benjamin followed the signs. Floyd was waiting outside the library. “Hey y'all, thanks a million! You’re a real lifesaver for Hunter and me. And I gotta say, them clothes are lookin' sharp. And that mullet? Pure gold!” Benjamin blushed and said that he would do the washing today and Floyd would bring the clothes back clean tomorrow. Floyd laughed and said that they had only been on for a week, a bit early to wash them. Benjamin joined in the laughter and headed off to his next lecture. Bloody hell, what had Floyd said. Mullet? What mullet? He ran his fingers through his hair sweaty from running. It was sticking to the back of his neck. Benjamin searched for a window pane to look at his reflection. Shit, he had a similar hairstyle to the boys.

Tuesday morning was Hunter and Ben's first lecture, “Ecosystems and Habitat management” in Professor Castleberry's Wildlife Ecology and Management class. They both got quite a telling off for missing the first lecture the previous week. Hunter's excuse was that he couldn't leave his parents' hunting lodge because of the storm. The story of how the bridge had been washed away sounded super realistic. Ben had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud. He knew that Hunter simply hadn't wanted to leave without killing the big stag. Ben's excuse was less original. The fact that he was wrongly enrolled in art history and literature led to great laughter in the lecture hall. A guy with “corn-fed Midwestern boy” literally tattooed on his forehead couldn't be in a worse place than in a lecture on 19th century English poetry. Luckily, the two best buddies were given two adjacent seats. They hadn't showered after the gym today either. Very few of their fellow students wanted to sit next to them. But it was their lucky day anyway. Although the registration deadline had actually already passed, they both still got a place on the excursion to the “Population biology and ecology” field trip at the weekend. They could hardly wait for Friday. Finally a chance to get some fresh air and hopefully a good piece of game. Their hunting rifles were already threatening to rust.

A few of his fellow students knew that his real name was Ben. But everyone here called him Buck. Hunter and Buck. It just went together. The two of them studied together, pumped iron together, played football together. They hunted together. And yes, they also fucked together. But only without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

Pics by @ki-kink

[corkinavoid]

Obsessed With You by Cosmicandy

Theater gothic/Phantom of the opera

(For some horrific reason I couldn't think of a trope)

DPxDC Phantom in the Opera

9/2 sat

Went to Gotham City Opera to see Eugene Onegin with B & Dames. The performance sucked ass (as modern takes on classics usually do), but during Tatyana's aria, some tech guy dropped a rubber chicken from catwalks right on stage. I bet it was on purpose since the lead's voice sounded much similar to the sound that chicken made. Wish I could shake the dude's hand, that was truly the crescendo of the whole scene.

15/2 sun

Came by GCO on the way to WE. Had some time to spare, so decided to go in and find the rubber chicken guy to thank him for the laugh last week. Thought he might appreciate the positive feedback since he was defo yelled at for the stunt. Turns out everyone blames it on a 'ghost'. Using 'Phantom of the Opera' as a cover story is poor taste, in my opinion, but on the other hand, it worked, and who am I to judge.

17/2 mon

Got curious and pulled up the records of GCO employees. No one matches the guy I've seen on the catwalks.

18/2 tue

Blackmailed Damian into drawing the guy. No match through the face recognition program. Should have expected that, really; the one cute guy with a sense of humor I meet (or see, actually), and he doesn't exist.

20/2 thur

Can't stop thinking about the rubber chicken guy. Might have to go back to GCO and ask about the whole ghostly rumor. Last time, no one bat an eye at the 'ghost' excuse, now that I think about it. Has it happened before? Is it a go-to explanation for any prank no one wants to take credit for?

26/2 wed

Visited GCO at night. Seen the guy, but the cam footage came back corrupted when checked downstairs. So maybe the fact that his hair was floating and glowing in the dark was not a hallucination.

27/2 thur

Definitely not a hallucination! Good news: got a sample. Bad news: after analysis, the data also came back corrupted. Weird news: the hair keeps glowing even after it's been cut off.

2/3 sun

The guy's name is Danny. Ghost story confirmed. I'm having a crisis.

4/3 tue

I'm not sure if I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about him or I want to forget everything I've already learned. But then, I've already got so far. Might as well commit to the bit?

8/3 sat

Was invited to see La Traviata tomorrow. Can I still call that reconnaissance, or am I in date territory?

10/3 mon

...it was a date. On an entirely unrelated note, Teddy Hyde ruined all my attempts at coming prepared.

18/3 tue

Heard a new rumor among GCO staff members. They suspect the ghost in their opera is having a crush on Red Robin. Not sure where they've got that idea, but it sure took them some time to notice.

19/3 wed

Damian keeps staring at me at dinners. Maybe I should take that portrait of Danny that he did down from the wall over my bed.

22/3 sat

Going on a date today, and this time, it's definitely a date! Feels like I should be having a crisis over dating a ghost, but somehow, I'm only having a crisis over outfit choices.

61/0° gBs

hEy, yoU're keEEpinG a DIary¡ aboUt Me!¡ ThAt"s cuTe FUCK OFF DANNY THIS IS PRIVATE INFORMATION GET OUT heHeheEhe no~

~•~•~•~

The thing is, I loved the song. And I loved the aesthetic. And I had such a goddamn hard time figuring out how to fit them together; I went through at least three different setups before deciding fuck it imma write silly boys being silly and wish for the best.

Dare I say it turned out cute as fuck, even though I still missed the mark on theater gothic aesthetic for the most part. Anyway, have a few pictures for general vibes!

[Just so you know, if you enter 'sex with a ghost' into google, the first few results will be the lyrics to 'Sex with a Ghost' by Terry Hyde, which is why Tim's research has been rather fruitless]

[muddyorbsblr]

empty baskets

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few weeks after 'the warmest bed i've ever known'

Summary: Tom makes a concerning discovery on laundry day

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning/s: steamy moments at the end; insecure Reader; mentions of previous cheating from exes; mentions of former toxic relationships [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: cinnamon roll bf Tomathy hours

The sound of the front door to his house closing alerted Tom of your return, a smile stretching across his face when you called out his name.

"In the laundry room, sweetheart. I'll be with you in a minute," he answered.

"Remember to separate your lights and darks." He could practically hear the amused smile on your face as you said the words.

His heart swelled at the comfortable humorous tone that you'd taken, at the familiarity that had woven its way into your exchanges, no matter how minuscule they might have been to anyone who would have been listening. After the scare of nearly losing you just under a month ago, he knew better than to take any moment with you for granted.

Tom dropped a final black running shirt into the load and was just about to start it, when he finally noticed what had felt off about this particular chore. What he had been feeling off about the past few weeks.

None of the clothes in the wash were yours. Not a single garment.

I must have missed them, he thought to himself, going through the other basket, brows furrowing together when he found it was just as empty as the one in his hand.

You'd been staying with him for the last two weeks, and he knew that you changed clothes. That was, at least during the times when the two of you were clothed in the house.

And yet despite that, he couldn't find a single item of your clothing in this room. Which led him to believe that you were keeping them in a laundry bag. Probably where you stashed your suitcase, in the entry way coat closet.

Only thing was that your laundry bag was nowhere to be found, and your suitcase was suspiciously heavier than it was yesterday morning. "Y/N?" he called out to you, unable to help the smile on his face when you peeked your head out from the study.

"What's up?"

"Anything you need to put in the wash, sweetheart?"

The confusion worsened when you shook your head. "Nope, I'm all good." And then you gave him a smile that was so strained it filled him with a sense of dread. The same kind of dread that he felt when he came home not two weeks ago to find you curled up in a chair, mumbling words that threatened to turn his world asunder had he not stopped you.

What were you hiding?

He made his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, heart thundering in his chest when he saw the avoidant look in your eyes. Like you were desperately trying to scour your mind for a way out.

Just like you were that night he showed up at your doorstep. When you blurted out how you felt about him and promptly tried to take it back, denying you said anything at all. "You don't need to hide anything from me, goddess," he said carefully, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I want you to know that."

"My dirty clothes are in the Four Seasons, I have a room booked there to keep my things," you blurted out, the words rushing out of you with a sheepish look on your face. "That's where I went this morning, to grab a new set of clothes and…anything else I might need."

Tom took in a deep breath, unaware that he'd been holding it while awaiting your answer. A weight was somewhat lifted from his chest, though there was still the lingering fear that somehow part of this secret was in the form of another person.

It had happened before, with previous relationships. And while he felt that fear significantly less when you were around, it still lingered…and festered into something that had the potential to be crippling if it ever turned out to be true.

Even if it was fairly early on in the relationship, he knew in the depths of his soul that this would be his last. You would be the one he spent the rest of his life loving, the one he would build his future with. And whether that future entailed marriage and children, it no longer mattered to him.

What mattered, all that mattered, was that future would have you.

"Why?" he asked, silently pleading that the answer wouldn't involve his worst fears. He couldn't take that. Not from you.

"It's for…just in case," you said, barely audible. Your eyes began to mist over as you started trembling in his hold. "For if…and when…you get tired of having me around. Then I wouldn't have to scramble for a place to stay. Because it's already there prepped and waiting for me."

Your words completely stole the air from his lungs, quite possibly even stopped his heart. Tired of you? You did this because you were bracing yourself for the day he would tire of you?

"It happened before," you spoke again, choking the words out as you visibly fought against what he had no doubt were haunting memories from relationships past. "Long before, but still…it sucked. Not having anywhere to stay for a few hours, calling friends who suddenly pretended I was nobody to them because they took my ex's side. Calling hotels that were fully booked. I just wanted to be sure."

Suddenly your actions around his home filled him with a heartbreaking clarity. It wasn't just your clothes.

Not a single item on the bathroom counter was yours. You even kept your toothbrush in a little bag. 

The meticulous way you'd place back every item in his study and pack away all your work in your tote before putting it in the entry way closet with your suitcase. He simply thought you were being tidy.

But it wasn't that simple.

Other than your very presence in his arms now, there wasn't a single trace of you to be found in this house. Everything you had here wasn't just easy to pack up in five minutes to have you out the door.

You wouldn't even need five seconds.

He couldn't think of what else to do at that moment other than pull you into a desperate kiss, weaving his fingers into your hair and holding you tight against him with his free arm. The tension that held on to his heart with a vice grip lessened somewhat when he felt your lips moving with his, your own hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt to bring him in even closer.

How could you not know that this was precisely where he wanted you? Always?

"I could never tire of you, goddess," he sighed against your lips when he broke the kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," you answered him with the faintest sniffle. "I need you to know that none of this is on you. You did nothing to make me feel this was what I should do, this is just…leftover self preservation. I don't know how to be any other way."

Tom took your hands in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Perhaps we can find a new way together," he proposed, placing one last kiss on your ring finger. The one he wished to place a ring upon one day.

It didn't matter when.

He motioned towards the bedroom, threading his fingers between yours to lead the way. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

There was a slight guilt that pinched away at his heart, realizing that you never even so much as peeked into the closet or the dressers. Because if you had, you would have seen it sooner.

You would have seen that he'd set aside half the dresser storage, and half the closet.

He was so overtaken with the joy of finally having you with him, he failed to see the signs that you hadn't been moving as if you lived with him. You moved like a scrupulously careful guest in his home, making sure everything was exactly as it was before you arrived.

Always ready to leave at a drop of a hat.

When the light turned on in the walk-in closet, Tom could hear the air leave your lungs the moment you that half of the racks were empty. He held your hand as he opened the drawers on the empty side, showing you that they, too, had nothing inside.

"You're not a guest in my home, Y/N. I--I know that it might be too early for us, but I want more than anything for you to see this as our home. I can understand if you're not quite ready yet, but I want you to know that there's space here for you. I don't want you to have to throw away money for a hotel room that isn't even slept in."

"Money isn't an issue," you mumbled, your eyes still fixed on the space he'd freed up for you. When you eventually tore your gaze away, he could see the tears that were welling up. "It's just…I've taken care of myself for so long. It's all I know. No one I was with ever cared--"

"I care, sweetheart." He pulled you into his arms, sighing into your hair when he felt you return his embrace. "And I understand you wish to take care of yourself, but perhaps I could care for you, too?"

Your only response was to nuzzle your face against his chest, before nodding against him. "Maybe we can take care of each other."

He kissed the top of your head, leading you out the closet and reaching for his phone, already placing a call to his assistant. "I'll send for someone to retrieve your belongings from the Four Seasons and settle the bill. You don't have to unpack everything if you're not ready, but at least they'll all be here. And I know you mentioned that money isn't an issue for you, but it doesn't sit right with me knowing you're spending so much on an unused room."

A soft smile finally graced your features, and you visibly looked more relaxed as you agreed to his proposal. "Fine. But next time we stay at a hotel I'm paying."

"It's a date," he said, bringing your joint hands up to kiss the back of your hand.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you sat on the floor of the closet, your carry-on splayed open beside you as you carefully placed your clothes in the open drawers that Tom freed up for you. Our home, his words replayed in your mind. The mere thought threatened to overwhelm you.

He really is trying to ruin me for everyone else but him, you thought to yourself, your mind wandering back to that note you buried deep in the vaults of your phone. You were seldom one to let your guard down anywhere other than your home, where every security measure had triple the redundancies just to make sure that vulnerabilities were minimized, if not eradicated completely.

In your line of work, the one starkly outside the path that brought you to the man you love, it wasn't just a "nice to have" to have multiple measures of security. The alternative was to be in a constant state of alertness. To always be ready to fight your way out.

You never knew there could be another way. A way where there were no backups, or backups for your backups. A way that no longer involved having a place ready for you in case you got kicked to the curb because your boyfriend decided to finally take up the offer of the office succubus.

Before you knew it, the carry-on was empty, other than your run of the mill weapons of choice for self-defense. But you decided against placing that anywhere within reach, instead zipping the compartment closed before closing and locking the luggage.

There was no need for it here.

The door to the closet opened, the sight of your boyfriend walking in wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants making you smile and bite your lip. "Well hey there," you greeted him, placing your hand in his and letting out a little giggle when he helped you to your feet before pulling you into a kiss.

"Just need a few more pieces to put in the wash, darling," he murmured against your lips. "Four, to be exact."

He worked his hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head, proceeding to work his way under the waistband of your joggers.

"Three…" You held on to his shoulders to keep upright, a teasing smirk on his face as he hooked his fingers underneath your panties. "Two…" In one smooth motion, he tugged them downwards, both garments falling to your feet, your boyfriend letting out a sinful guttural sound when you were bared to him.

Then your feet left the ground, him lifting you by the backs of your thighs and coaxing you to wrap your legs around him as he brought you back into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, lustful darkened blue eyes raking over your body before he reached for the waistband of his own sweats.

"One…"

A/N: Where can I order one of these cinnamon roll Tomathy-shaped boyfriends? Asking for myself--

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[malk1ns]

january 14 vs kraken, 4-2 loss

i'm tired of this grandpa!!!!

some notes on this one: werewolves, branding, ownership, and a power imbalance that i think everyone is ultimately quite happy with.

It took a great deal of cajoling for Sid to sign off on Zhenya’s return to play for their last game in the homestand. He’d been buzzy and overprotective the entire week Zhenya was out, and add in that the full moon was the night before, the Wolf Moon at that…Zhenya did as much groveling and begging and incentivizing as he could, but he’d honestly expected to sit this one out too. Sid signing the papers allowing Zhenya to play had been a surprise the morning of the game, waiting for him next to the coffee machine when he stumbled downstairs before morning skate.

Zhenya stares at it for a minute, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Written English always takes a while to register when he first wakes up, but he’s just figured out what it is when Sid’s palm closes around the back of his neck.

“If you’re good,” Sid says, shaking him lightly. Zhenya lets his head loll forward, dropping his shoulders down. Sid’s hand on his neck feels amazing, better now than it ever has before. He wants to roll over and show his belly.

“But,” Sid continues, digging his nails warningly into Zhenya’s skin, “if I find out you’re lying about being ready, if you hurt yourself again, I won’t be happy. Alright?”

Zhenya’s right hand moves instinctively to his right wrist, touching the bandaging still wrapped tightly. “Yes,” he says breathlessly, fighting off the lassitude that always comes when Sid scruffs him like this. “It’s good, I’m play.”

“Good boy,” Sid says, shaking him once more before letting go.

It takes Zhenya a while to collect himself before he can start making his coffee for the day.

—

The training staff whisks Zhenya away as soon as they arrive at PPG. Sid doesn’t like it, Zhenya can tell—it’s still so strange, being able to feel what Sid feels—but when it comes to medical stuff he can’t override anyone about Zhenya, so he just frowns after them as Zhenya shoots an apologetic grimace over his shoulder.

He’s marched directly to Vyas’s exam room, sitting quietly on the table as Kevin tugs at his sleeve and unwinds the bandage.

The brand is still shocking to look at. It’s starting to scab over, enough so that Zhenya isn’t worried it will rip off every time he makes a fist, but it’s livid and red over his veins, dark and ugly on his winter-pale skin.

Zhenya loves it.

He’s been begging Sid to brand him for years, ever since Sid took over his contract halfway through the one he signed in 2013 and moved Zhenya in. Sid had been hesitant about the responsibility, but over the summer when he was working out the details of his own new contract something shifted, and when training camp started he told Zhenya he’d do the brand in January.

Zhenya didn’t know why he picked January, and it wasn’t his place to ask. He was just happy Sid decided it was time.

Kevin’s touch as he probes the wound feels wrong, but Zhenya holds still, grimacing when Kevin pats ointment into the scar.

“Looks good, G,” Kevin says, touching Zhenya’s shoulder. “Congrats. I’ll go grab Doc—do you have your form?”

Zhenya nods, fumbling for his wallet as Kevin exits the room, shouting for Dr. Vyas as he half-closes the door behind him.

A few staff members peer in curiously as Zhenya waits, clutching the signed return-to-play form in one hand. Normally he’d wave or make small talk, but he looks down whenever someone pops their head in, turning his arm so the brand isn’t visible.

It’s private. He doesn’t want any random person getting a look at it.

When Vyas enters the room, he at least thinks to shut the door before making his way to Zhenya’s side.

“Geno,” he says warmly, taking Zhenya’s left and and turning it palm-up so he can see Zhenya’s wrist. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and Sid, I know how long you’ve been waiting for this. And he signed off on you playing tonight?”

“Yes,” Zhenya says, thrusting the form at Vyas. The paper is wrinkled, but the signature is unmistakable. “He gives to me this morning to bring.”

“Mmhm,” Vyas hums, looking the form over. “Okay, good. Gonna have to get used to that, big guy, you’re not gonna be able to so much as get your Toradol without his sign-off now.” He chuckles, setting the paper aside and pulling a stool up. “Alright, let’s take a look. At first glance it seems like you’re good to go, but I just need to confirm. Oh, and you’ll have to take it easy on faceoffs tonight. I’ll tell Mike, but probably only every other one as the scar gets used to the movement again.”

Zhenya nods, but his brain fogs over thinking about Sid having to sign off on his medication for the rest of his life. The haze lasts for his whole exam, and when Vyas slaps his back and sends him on his way, he barely makes it to the lounge without needing to sit down.

—

Zhenya wants to fool around when they get back from morning skate, but Sid insists on going down for their nap early, tucking them together and passing out almost immediately with his hand heavy on Zhenya’s neck. Zhenya takes longer to fall asleep, but eventually he slips under too, lulled to sleep by Sid’s whuffling snores.

Sid rushes them through their pre-game rituals, hustling Zhenya into the car a full 15 minutes earlier than normal and refusing to provide any explanation, even when Zhenya makes big eyes and pouts. They’re not even early, though—the entire team is already there when they arrive, milling around in their base layers and sucking down last-minute protein shakes.

Sid does the rounds while Zhenya sits quietly in his stall. It took a while to remember where he sits now—when Sid told the team he was going to be branding Zhenya sometime this season they moved him over to Sid’s left, and for the first month and a half Zhenya went on autopilot to his old spot. Sid was understanding, but OC, who’s sitting where Zhenya used to, made fun of him every single time.

A few of the guys stop by to say hi, but for the most part they leave him alone, and Zhenya zones out. He doesn’t even tune back in when Sully steps into the room and starts his pre-game pep talk; he’s heard it hundreds of times by now, it’s the same three variations every game.

He snaps back to attention when Sully ends with, “And we have a pretty big milestone tonight. Sid?”

Sid steps to the front of the room, grinning so big his eyes disappear when the whole team bursts out into whoops and catcalls. Karl puts his pinkies in his mouth and whistles piercingly, loud enough that the guys near him wince and slap at him until he stops.

“Thanks, guys,” Sid says, loud enough to be heard over the ruckus, and everyone calms down. “This has been a really big week for me, and I really appreciate everyone who stopped by to check in. It’s something that’s maybe a little overdue—” Kris interrupts him to shout “A little?!”. A bunch of guys break out into laughter, and Sid rolls his eyes. “—thanks, Kris—anyway, it’s been a long time coming, and your support means the world to me and G.” He pauses, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a thin box. Zhenya’s heart almost stops. “So, it’s G’s first game back, which means he gets to wear a collar now. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather share this with then all of you.”

When Sid crosses the room to stand in front of Zhenya, the team bursts into applause.

“Hey, baby,” Sid says quietly, reaching down to card his hand through Zhenya’s hair. “You good?”

Zhenya’s frozen, every muscle tense at the surprise and the focused attention of his entire team. He’d forgotten about the collar, but now that he’s been reminded, he can’t look away.

Sid skates his fingers over the side of Zhenya’s throat, pulling back so quickly that Zhenya leans forward involuntarily with a distraught little sound. Sid laughs, but it’s not mean, and he holds the collar up. “Let me get this on you, sweetheart, you’ll like it. Alright?”

Zhenya nods, but he doesn’t need to—Sid’s already slipping the collar around his neck, buckling it at the front.

Zhenya doesn’t even know what it looks like. It’s dark leather, he registered that much, but he doesn’t know if there’s writing on it, or a design. It doesn’t matter—Sid likes it on him, if the look in his eyes is any indication, and that’s all that Zhenya cares about.

“It’s good?” he asks just to be sure, craning his neck to one side and peering up at Sid through his eyelashes. 

“Looks so good, G,” Sid says huskily, running his finger along the top. “Maybe I should have done this at home after all.”

—

Zhenya feels the weight of the collar all throughout warmups. Turbo yells something at him from across the ice, but he focuses on settling back into his routine, on stretching and puck-handling and always, always watching Sid

He downs half his Gatorade in the room before they line up for puck drop, then stands next the door shifting from skate to skate as everyone falls into their places in line.

He and Sid are last, like always. They both slap Tanger on the shoulders as he makes his way between them out the door, then Sid steps close to Zhenya, grinning up at him as they go through their handshake.

Normally after the chest tap, Sid would turn to leave the room, Zhenya would smack his calf with his stick, and off they’d go. Today, though, Sid shakes his glove off, reaches up, and twists his fingers in Zhenya’s collar, tugging hard at him until Zhenya bends down.

Sid doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t need to. Zhenya knows how he feels, can feel it rising as if they’re his own feelings.

One side of Sid’s mouth quirks up and he lets go, turning to head out.

Zhenya stumbles after him. He doesn’t slap Sid with his stick—he’s afraid any impact would send it clattering to the floor from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

—

Halfway through the first period, Zhenya realizes he forgot to tell Sid that Vyas told him he wasn’t allowed to take all his faceoffs tonight.

The trainers spend more time hovering over Zhenya’s shoulder than normal, and Zhenya tolerates it, pulling his sleeve up when asked so they can check the bandaging. He can feel Sid getting more and more wound up as the period drags on, but he chalks it up to the razzing he’s getting from the Kraken—Zhenya heard Oleksiak yell something about Sid finally getting his hound on a leash earlier.

Zhenya doesn’t care. He’s heard it all over the years. Officials look the other way on wolf-slurs. It used to piss Sid off something crazy, but even he’s able to blow it off more now. Zhenya’s surprised Big Rig is getting him so worked up.

He figures out just how wrong he is when they troop off the ice at first intermission and Sid yanks him so hard into a supply room that Zhenya’s shoulder nearly dislocates.

“Sid,” he complains, but Sid yanks Zhenya’s left glove off and shoves up his sleeve without a word.

He’s boiling mad, and Zhenya wants to cower, wants to pin his ears back and tuck his tail between his legs and whine for forgiveness—except he doesn’t know what exactly he did.

“You promised,” Sid grits out, stroking over the bandage. It’s clean and relatively dry, Zhenya’s pleased to note—he’s been twirling his wrist around when he’s on the bench like Vyas suggested, to help stretch the skin, and it looks like that hasn’t aggravated any bleeding. “You promised me you felt okay, that you were ready to play tonight. Did you lie?”

“No!” Zhenya yelps, yanking his arm from Sid’s grasp. “Sid, I’m say to you it’s fine, like, doctors say it’s fine, why you’re like this?” He’s seesawing between his own rising anger and an instinctive need to cower and make nice, and the extremes are making him queasy.

“You’re not taking your faceoffs,” Sid snaps, taking a step back. The sudden distance leaves Zhenya cold, but he forces himself to stand still. “I’ve been watching. You’re skipping half of them.”

And, oh. Zhenya might be many things; a liar isn’t one of them, but forgetful certainly is.

“It’s part of plan,” he says, slouching his shoulders and shuffling closer to Sid. “I promise, Sid, Vyas says to me this morning, it’s for be safe, take care since it’s first game back. It’s not because I’m hurt, like, try to do to much. I forget to say to you, I’m sorry, but you ask Vyas, he’s tell you it’s true.”

Sid’s quiet for a minute, but Zhenya can feel his anger start to ebb. “You swear?” he finally says, voice softer than before, and Zhenya takes the opening to sidle up to him, pressing their bodies together. “If I really go ask, he’ll tell me exactly what you said, you’re not just making this up to get out of trouble?”

“I swear,” Zhenya says fervently, and he feels it when Sid believes him, practically whimpering at the cool wash of relief.

“Okay,” Sid practically whispers to himself, no more than a breath of sound in the room that Zhenya latches on to regardless. “Okay, okay.”

He reaches up to tug at Zhenya’s collar. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says soothingly. “It’s just…I feel like I have to watch you every second. I didn’t realize how intense this would be.” Sid blows out a breath. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Zhenya’s already forgiven him. He’s embarrassingly, fawningly glad to be back in Sid’s good graces.

He wishes he could change, slink down into his wolf form and wind himself between Sid’s legs and pant at him until Sid laughs and bends down to scritch between his ears.

Unfortunately, they have two more periods of hockey to play.

[falling-star-cygnus]

i've been rooting around the wbk fandom and manga for a little over a week now, and i've made a few posts just about some observational things, sooo now i feel a wee bit more comfortable posting something more indulgent :3 -> it's like leveling up in a video game, where you gotta learn the controls for the first 10-15 levels until you can participate in the fun stuff T^T

Nirei, Sakura, and Suo's dynamic is so very, very adorable. i wish more people talked about how cuddly they are with each other 😭

Nirei Akihiko and Suo Hayato's Top Secret Guide to Being a Grade Captain's Charger Or, Sakura Haruka's Emotional Support Vice Captains

"You guys ever notice..." Anzai starts.

The small group of first years' gaze is drawn over one by one. First to Anzai, and then green, brown, amber, and red eyes pulled to the shwip of the door opening.

This early in the day, the people entering and leaving didn't cause much fanfare. Sure, you might perk up when you saw your friend, get giddy to share news that couldn't be conveyed properly over text, but all in all it wasn't really anything out of the ordinary.

A freckled blond strolls in.

"...that Nirei gets away with a lot more than we do?"

With his hand wrapped around Sakura Haruka's upper arm.

The group of four feels an irrational swell of jealousy, one that they’ll deny to their graves.

It wasn't like Anzai was wrong, even if it was an unwanted dose of reality. Out of all of them, Nirei- whether it be because of his puppy like energy or his position as one of Sakura’s first friends- always seemed able to squeak into contact with their bristly captain without his alarm bells going off.

Seriously.

It was impressive, actually, Kiryu had tried to brush some of his darker hair out of his face once- buut Sakura hadn't seen his hand coming until it was right in front of his nose. Both of them had frozen at the resulting flinch, as dishearteningly natural as it was.

Kiryu didn't really let it deter him, though. Sakura's hair was really soft. Anzai would know, considering he got a face full of it when he tackled him that first day. Also positive reinforcement 'n conations 'n all that.

Anyway- honestly, the only one that even came close to Nirei's level of allowed tactility was..

“Oh? What makes you say that, Anzai-kun?” Suo asks, smiling like they couldn't all see how he tightened his grip on his wrist. 

Greedy bastard. At least Nirei was practically impossible to hate.

And Suo got away with blatantly staring at their grade captain's pretty features, so Anzai thinks he really shouldn't be complaining.

"Why're you actin' like that, you get his attent-"

“I told you, it’s fine!” Sakura is huffing at the blond, unintentionally interrupting as the two came closer, “It’s not even that deep.”

“It could still get infected-”

The attention shifts again, this time to the hand hidden inside the bicolored boy's pants pocket.

"Hmm? Did Sakura-chan get hurt on his way here?" Kiryu questions, shifting closer as Nirei starts talking with Suo [eh, somethin' about missing him this morning?]- though the blond's hand slips down to his captive's elbow instead of entirely letting go.

"Wh-? As if! Nire- he's overreacting!"

Annd there's that familiar blush, rosy down to Sakura's accusing finger. ....is that healthy? It's cute, no doubt, but are hands supposed to blush? They're not, right?

Eh, Anzai will ask Nagato later. It's been a while since they hung out one on one.

"No, I'm not! You're- mmph!?"

"Shut up, shut up! It's not important!"

With Sakura's hand clamped [gently, oh so gently, everyone notes] over his vice's mouth, Nirei can't do much more than make some worriedly frustrated noises. He's still clinging to their bristly captain's arm, as if trying to pry out the injured hand into the open through sheer force of will, and-

"DID YOU JUST LICK ME!?"

"YOU WEREN'T GONNA LISTEN OTHERWISE!"

...they're rowdy this morning.

Suo, the asshole, is just watching with an elatedly amused curve to his eye- like observing a ping pong match.

Unnoticed by everyone, the desk the group was gathered around contained one slowly rousing Sugishita. Well- they knew he was dozing there, but none of them really knew how long he'd been listening. Or awake.

Had he been awake the whole time?

It'd clearly been long enough regardless, because he reaches his lanky arm up- perfectly level with Sakura's pocket in his slouched malaise- and lifts the bicolored captain's hand into view. Like a princess.

The result is near instantaneous.

Like a feral cat, Sakura throws himself backwards and out of Nirei's hold with a startled screech- kinda adorably reminiscent of a tuxedo arching it's back and hissing- but he doesn't really get far when Sugishita shifts his grip to his wrist to keep him from bolting.

....and Sakura's wrists were really small.. or maybe the blue haired fanatic's hands were really big? He only had to use his pinkie and thumb to completely loop around it.

Both could be true.

Also wow. Their relationship really had changed since Noroshi.. it still couldn't really be considered friendly, of course, but...

Hey, wait a second-

"WHAT DID YOU DO!?" Anzai balks in pure astonishment, finally registering the absolutely demolished knuckles of his grade captain. They're practically skinned to the bone!

Seriously, they're horrific looking- skin is literally dangling off in places.

Sakura squirms, concerningly red in the face and heaving in the chest as he tries to free his hand, but Suo maneuvers his way behind him to gently grab his shoulders.

"Calm down," he cajoles, ever the greedy, soothing gentleman, "We're just worried, Sakura-kun, no one wants to hurt you."

...right.

Maybe they were coming on a bit too strong. Sakura's trust in them was still a fragile thing, barely planted with a bud as new as spring flowers and... ah, Sugishita could do this metaphor better. Something, something, too much water and fertilizer at once?

Point is- they had to go slow. A little at a time.

"I- I knew that," their captain bristles defensively, his raised shoulders lowering as Nirei wraps himself around his arm again, "I just- I wasn't expecting to get grabbed-"

"Eh? But didn't Nire-chan and Suo-chan grab you just now?" Kiryu cuts in, returning from wherever he had disappeared to [Anzai feels a little bad for not noticing his departure] with a roll of bandages and cleaning solution.

Unsurprisingly, that just makes their captain flush darker.

"That-! That's different-"

Oh?

Anzai grins.

"Reeeally?" he leans close, but takes care not to brush against him just yet- there's already three people touching his bristly captain, and five in total crowding him- "Why is that?"

Distantly, he wonders if they make cosmetics in the color Sakura is turning. Maybe Tsuchiya would want some..

"They're-"

"Special?" Kiryuu heckles lightheartedly, leaning over Sugishita to gently pat the cleaning solution into the cuts.

Sakura doesn't even flinch. Anzai's chest squeezes again.

"H-Hey! Don't put words in my-"

"Aww, Sakura-kun. We're touched," because, of course, Suo had to rile him up even further, "We are your vice captains, after all. It makes sense."

Smug bastard.

"It's not like that- You volunteered for that role!" Sakura continues to deny, getting dangerously close to overheating, "You two just- don't... count. For some reason."

...he doesn't even realize.

He doesn't even realize!

Anzai has never been so jealous in his fucking life-

Nirei squeezes their grade captain's arm closer with sparkles in his big brown eyes, "Sakura-san..."

"So how did your knuckles end up like that anyway?" Anzai butts in, forcing his gaze to where Kiryu was gently taping the gauze down.

Sugishita was still holding Sakura's wrist still, but at least the limb wasn't trembling anymore. Still stiff as wood, though, but progress is progress so he'll keep his mouth shut.

Their grade captain goes silent- his ahoge practically crinkling from the heat emanating from his face.

The four look to Nirei.

"Ah, Sakura-san.." he prompts, patting his captive's elbow, "You should be the one to tell them!"

Suo squeezes his shoulders, curious himself.

Sakura stays silent.

"I bet it'll make them reeeally happy!"

....maybe the blond was more devious then they all thought.. or maybe Suo was just rubbing off on him too much. Either way, their captain relents the slightest bit.

"There was... a fight."

"Yeah.. we figured." Anzai can't help but deadpan.

And then he wants to kick himself, because Sakura was sharing and if Anzai was the one that made him retreat back into the shell everyone was trying to crack, then he'd never forgive himself-

Sugishita kicks his ankle for him. Which- surprising, but also fair.

"They were- saying shit. About Kiryu," it's honestly a miracle Sakura hasn't ground his teeth to dust yet, "'...'n Suo.... and Sugishita.."

Their bicolored captain raises his injured hand to the back of his head- out of Sugishita's surprise loosened grip- and ruffles up the strands as he attempts to glare holes into the edge of the desk. His face is as pink as his namesake.

"And you," Nirei tacks on, but Sakura just shakes his head.

"I don't care about that, they can say whatever they want about me- I'm used to it."

He shouldn't have to be used to it, they all think bitterly.

"But they don't know you guys," Sakura bulldozes before any of them can say as much, "It just- pissed me off."

That seems to be his limit, because as soon as that final word rings out he's whirling around hiding his face in Suo's shoulder. The eyepatched bastard is caught so off guard that it shows on his face.

"Oh my," he says, tentatively resting his hands on his captain's shoulders, and then he smiles again... all soft and unslimy-like that it's a little off putting, "So our dear Sakura-kun was defending our honor~ How sweet."

Sakura defended them.

Unlike his usual backhanded compliments, this one from Suo sounds so genuine.. Suo, Kiryu, hell even Sugishita look a little awed in different ways- though the blue-haired fanatic looks pissed about it a second later and puts his head back down against his desk. Kiryu pats his shoulder consolingly, clicking a million photos away on his phone of their bashful captain.

...Anzai'll have to pester him for some of those later.

Sakura weakly punches his vice's shoulder, his knuckles bright pink [seriously, is that healthy?] and his ears much the same.

Maybe they still had to go slow with their affection, still had to ween the bicolored boy off the loneliness that plagued him like an addiction, but the rewards were more than worth it.

How anyone could look at Sakura and not want him in their lives was a concept that Anzai couldn't grasp at all.

Sakura Haruka, the boy who jumped fist first into protecting those who couldn't- their grade captain that wanted all of them to be safe and made himself literally sick with worry after everything with Keel.

How could anybody not love him?

How could his old town look at him, truly look at him, and not want to crawl into his skin to make a home?

It was their loss, now, regardless.

Sakura Haruka belonged to Makochi.

And Makochi was greedy enough to want him all to themselves.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 blanket fort : harry potter

▰▰ pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

harry's stressed while staying at grimmauld place, y/n tries to distract him by planning a cozy sleepover night.

author: this is me begging for more harry appreciation like actually please

He's stressed. She knows. He has been in a bad mood the whole week, snapping at people, storming out of dinner and staying in his room most of the time to avoid everyone.

The thing is, she can't really blame him. Grimmauld place seems to have that effect on people, the place is dusty and dark, full of tension because of the war. This has taken a toll on everyone, but mostly on Harry.

She's seen Harry going against powerful wizards and defy death multiple times, but watching him crumble under the weight of the upcoming war breaks her heart. She knows that if anyone deserves a break, it's Harry. And she's determined to give it to him.

It's certainly difficult, it's not like she can wave her wand and make his problems disappear. She would if she could, but it's simply not possible. But maybe she can provide a distraction, something simple to get him to forget about his problems at least one night.

She's eating her dinner in between an order meeting, Sirius and Molly screaming at eachother for whatever reason, when the idea comes in. Her face lights up, and she practically wolfs down her food just so she can excuse herself from the table.

Harry didn’t have the easiest or happiest childhood, she knows that. And, as his best friend, she always makes sure to provide fun moments were she can make amends for everything he lacked for in his childhood. She's sure a blanket fort is a perfect way to keep doing that.

It takes her a long time because she hasn't build a blanket fort in forever, but after maybe an hour, she finally has a perfect fort that she knows for sure won't fall down because she begged George to use his magic to help her since she can't use her wand outside of Hogwarts.

She raids the house for pillows to have inside her fort, and she even ends up finding fairy lights, which is a total shocker to find on that gloomy house but at least it helps her to bring a comforting vibe to the fort. Then, after arguing with Kreacher for at least ten minutes, she was able to find some snacks and make some hot cocoa.

It's late in the night and everybody else has gone to sleep when she finally knocks on Harry's door, not even waiting for him to answer before she cracks the door open, slightly peeking inside. "Harry? come with me for a second, please"

She knows he's not asleep yet, so it isn't surprising when he replies. "y/n i'm not really in the mood for.."

He's not able to finish his sentence before she interrupts him. "Come on, humor me for just five minutes, I promise you'll like it. If you hate it, I'll let you sulk in peace, deal?"

Harry huffs, but he's immediately standing up from his bed. In the past few days, she's the only one he hasn't snapped at. Harry can't help it, she is far too sweet even when she's being pushy.

Before he knows it, she's already taking his hand and pulling him with her through the dark, guiding him up the creaky stairs. When they reach the room she has been staying in, Harry almost expects a half lecture about talking about his feelings just like the one Hermione gave him.

Instead, when the door cracks open and she pulls him inside, he stops short once he sees what she's made of her room. His eyes immediately fall on the fort, blankets dropped over chairs and tugged into corners, glowing fairy lights hanging from the edges, pillows piled in the middle making it look like some cozy nest.

"What is this?" Harry asks quietly, taking a tentative step towards it while y/n closes the door.

"a blanket fort, obviously." She replies with a grin. "we're having a no-war-allowed sleepover, the only rule is that we are not able to mention war at least just for tonight."

Harry looks at her, his face a mix between confusion and surprise. He wants to tell her that this is ridiculous and go back to being alone in his room, but then he sees her smile and his heart skips a beat. She worked so hard for this, only for him, so he doesn’t find it in himself to be the one ruining it.

"This is just ridiculous" he mutters, but he still steps inside and sinks into the pillows.

"You're smiling." she points out, feeling her chest swell with pride once she's able to see the first smile from him in weeks.

"I'm not." He says even though his smile only gets bigger when she settles down beside him.

He doesn’t even know how, but she pulls two mugs from behind the blankets and offers him one. The mug is still warm when he takes it, and he gives her a little appreciative smile when he sips and the taste of hot cocoa fills his mouth.

They fall silent for just a moment until Harry talks again. "Can you tell me what the order discussed today at dinner? Did they-"

"Ah-ah" y/n interrupts, holding up a finger with mock sternness. "What did I say? No war talk tonight, it's a rule."

Harry huffs, but he doesn’t try to push it, because he knows how determined she can be when she wants to. "So what are we supposed to talk about, then? quidditch? school?"

She wrinkles her nose playfully. "No. How about this? We're making stories about the people in the order. You know, the lives they would have if they were... normal people."

Harry stares at her, amusement flashing across his face. "Are you serious?" He asks, even though he's one hundred percent sure she is.

"No! Sirius is asleep." She jokes, this is obviously a joke she picked up from Sirius himself. "Come on, It'll be fun! i'll go first." her face lights up as she hugs a pillow against her chest. "I think professor Lupin would totally own a bookstore. A cozy bookstore pilled with all kinds of books, and he would have a cat or two."

He rolls his eyes, laughing when she falls silent and gives him a pointed look. "Okay, I'll try. Let's see... Molly would own a bakery." He begins. "She would spend hours trying crazy recipes and she would most likely end up burning some things around, but people end up loving everything she bakes. She doesn't let anyone go without a free treat."

y/n seems delighted as she claps her hands together. "Yes! that's totally spot on, see? I knew you could do it!" It's her turn now, so she pauses for a second before smiling again. "If Sirius wasn't stuck here, he would be some kind of rockstar. He would travel around, throwing crazy shows and even crazier parties. And you know he would totally own a motorcycle, too."

"He would." Harry laughs for a moment until he falls silent. She thinks it's only him trying to come up with some other story, but then she's able to see the moment his face falls, smile disappearing. "You know, if things were normal, my parents..."

He doesn’t have the strenght to keep going, but he doesn’t have to. She knows. If Voldemort didn’t exist- if the order were just normal people, Harry's parents would still be alive. He wouldn't be the chosen one. He wouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wants to tell him something, anything to try and make everything hurt a little less, but she knows no amount of words could ever do that. Instead, she scoots closer and wraps her arms around him in a hug. At first, Harry being Harry, he stiffens but after a long second, he melts into her.

"I'm sorry." She whispers once his forehead falls on her shoulder. He knows she's not apologizing for anything she's done, but rather for everything he's endured.

For a while, they sit there, silently embracing eachother. She rubs soothing circles on his back, her heart breaking at the thought of not being able to do anything to ease the pain.

She should talk. Tell him something, but she knows Harry, he won't want to open up about his emotions. At least not yet. The last thing he needs now is more sorrow, he just needs a way out of it, if only for a couple of hours.

"You know" she starts, her voice light. She knows she has to do this for him. "Maybe in another life, Snape runs a hair oil empire. He's definitely the type to use that rubbish on himself. That's why his hair's so slimy."

Harry seems caught off guard at first as he pulls back to look at her, but then a laugh escapes his lips. "His slogan would be something like 'Smooth as silk, greasy as a cauldron bottom.' and he has the ad campaigns nailed down."

y/n laughs so hard that she has to cover her mouth, fearing that Kreacher would hear and appear just to scold them. "If Snape hears you say that, he'll make sure to leave you bald."

"Better bald than greasy." He jokes, and she's just glad to see him happy again.

And just like that, the fort is filled with laughter again, the heaviness retreating a little while longer as they share stories and joke about members of the order, allowing themselves to forget about the upcoming war for just a while.

Harry had forgotten how easy it is to talk to y/n, she's always able to see right through him and ease his pain. No matter what he's going through, she's always able to get a laugh out of him. Around her, Harry can just be himself- not the chosen one, just Harry.

She's laughing about some kind of childhood story she's sharing with him, and he just can't help but stare at her for a little too long.

"What?" She ask in between giggles when she caughts him staring.

He shakes his head, a soft smile grazing his lips. "Nothing. Just... Thank you."

She tilts her head a little. "Why?"

"For this. I didn’t realize how much I needed this." he admits, feeling lighter than he has felt in weeks. "you just- you have a way of making everything feel better."

"You deserve it, Harry. You deserve more than this." She smiles, taking his hand to give it a soft squeeze.

"You're amazing, you know that?" The way she looks at him when the words leave his lips, the shine in her eyes, it makes his heart race.

And he knows it then. He loves her. Always has, like it was something so natural for him to do that he didn’t even realize it until he has to sit there and watch the blush creeping on her face. He loves her.

"I mean, I'm pretty proud of this fort—" She starts, but her words are cut off when his lips meet hers.

It's unexpected, the feelings of his lips takes her breath away for a long second until she's suddenly leaning into the kiss. Time seems to stand still for Harry once he allows himself to get lost in that exact moment, in the way her lips feel so soft, sweet against his. So comforting.

It's in that moment that he realizes, this isn't just a distraction. It isn't just a fleeting moment to forget about war. It's more than that. She is more than that.

She's his anchor. When the world feels like it's falling apart, when the weight of it all feels unbearable, she's always there— steady, unwavering, like some kind of safety net. Always waiting for Harry to fall into the comfort of her arms.

When he pulls apart, y/n is ready for him to start panicking, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he lets himself lean into the comfort she offers. He presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and relaxing to the sounds of her slow breathing.

"Stay." He says suddenly, and she's not sure if he's asking for her to stay tonight or just forever.

But anyways, she replies. "I wasn't planning on leaving."

And for the first time in his life, Harry believes it's okay to share the weight with someone.

[hinata6uchiha]

Upcoming HinaxPairing Fanfics

I've been working on a few Hinata x Male Pairing stories (HinaSasu, KakaHina, ShikaHina, etc.) on and off. I wanted to share previews of the stories I’ve been working on. I don’t have a set date for when they’ll be posted, as I’d rather complete each story before posting or at least complete it halfway. That way, I can update daily instead of sporadically...no waiting days (or weeks 😅) between updates.

None of these stories have titles yet, so I’ll list the theme, pairing(s), and how many chapters I’ve completed so far. Progress is being made, but some have more written than others! I won’t give away too many details, but the themes and brief summaries should give you an idea of what to expect.

1. PR Relationship Story

Pairings: SasuHina (main), SasuSaku (minor, some one-sided aspects due to the PR relationship...don’t hate me! 😭 I promise you I'm not a fan of this couple, but I will write it if it's needed as a barrier for SasuHina), GaaHina

Brief Summary: Sasuke is a model who’s been in a relationship with Hinata (his childhood friend) for three years. He’s placed in a PR relationship with Sakura, a rising pop star, which causes a rift between him and Hinata.

Chapters Completed: 4/20

2. Mafia Story

Pairings: KakaHina (initially the main), SasuHina (arranged marriage), ShikaHina (one-sided)

Brief Summary: Hinata has been secretly involved with her father’s bodyguard, Kakashi, for the past year. However, their relationship is put at risk when an arranged marriage with the Uchiha clan is announced to secure an alliance. (This story was initially planned as KakaHina, but it’s shifting toward SasuHina as the main endgame!) Sasuke in this story has a bit of a playboy streak, inspired by his RTN version. Think of his usual stoic self but with a player attitude. 😂

Chapters Completed: 5/25 (give or take)

There’s a one-shot prequel, for anyone interested, which takes place a few years before the main mafia story begins. You can read it here: Snowfall Promises

3. Broken Marriage Story

Pairings: SasuHina (married), KakaHina, SasuSaku

Brief Summary: Sasuke and Hinata were each in relationships, Sasuke with Sakura and Hinata with Naruto, before an arranged marriage contract was found between the Uchiha and Hyuga clans forced them to break things off. Now married to one another with no real love between them, they both engage in emotional cheating: Sasuke with Sakura, and Hinata with Kakashi. Sasuke barely spends any time with Hinata, remaining hung up on Sakura, and typically sees her more often than he does his own wife. Naruto, though hurt by the situation, chooses to keep his distance and focus on his Hokage duties. So he won’t appear much in the story. The main focus is on the dynamics between KakaHina, SasuHina, and SasuSaku. Fair warning: you’re going to *hate* Sasuke for a while. He’s not exactly a good husband here. 😅 I originally planned for this story to end in KakaHina, but I love SasuHina too much (though I’m sure many of you will be rooting for Kakashi for quite some time, even as I'm writing it, I'm rooting for him, haha). Trust me, you really won’t like Sasuke at first. 😬 Also, for those curious, Hinata and Sasuke are in their early twenties, which means there’s that 15-year age gap between Kakashi and Hinata. This will be a recurring theme throughout the story, especially with Mr. Contradicting-and-Jealous Sasuke bringing it up constantly.🤭

Chapters Completed So Far: 10/??? (This might end up being a long story, similar to Glass Tears.)

4. Roommates Story

Pairings: SasuHina, NaruHina, NaruSaku

Summary: Sasuke and Hinata share an apartment, while Hinata is dating Naruto, who hates the fact that his girlfriend is roommates with another man. Sasuke has had feelings for Hinata for a long time (SasuHina are childhood friends). Sasuke keeps his feelings to himself, afraid of ruining their friendship if it isn’t mutual, and aware that she’s committed to someone he doesn’t exactly get along with.

Chapters Completed: This is a one-shot, and I’m already halfway finished with it.

5. Time Travel Story

Pairings: SasuHina, SasuSaku (brief), NaruHina (brief)

Summary: Set during the Blank Period, Sasuke is in a relationship with Sakura, and Naruto is with Hinata. However, their lives are thrown into chaos when a jutsu goes horribly wrong (not from Sasuke, Naruto, Sakura and Hinata), and two teenagers from the future become stuck in their timeline, claiming that Sasuke and Hinata are their parents. This shocking news shakes the couples to their core, creating tension, awkwardness, and plenty of unanswered questions as they try to make sense of what’s happening.

Chapters Completed: 2/??? (This might end up being a short story, though I haven’t decided on the final chapter count yet.)

6. A Rewrite of a ShikaHinaSasu Story

Pairings: ShikaHina, SasuHina, SasuShika (👀), SasuSaku (brief)

Brief Summary: In the original story, Hinata was the new girl at school, and Sasuke was assigned as her tour guide. At the time, Sasuke was already in a relationship with Sakura. Sasuke and Shikamaru couldn’t stand each other, but no one really knew why. It eventually came out that Sasuke and Shikamaru had been in a secret relationship in the past. Sasuke, afraid of being judged or made fun of, didn’t want their relationship to become public and ended up leaving Shikamaru (and somewhat cheating) for Sakura. (This backstory was mentioned in the original, but not shown.) Shikamaru then used Hinata to make Sasuke jealous, a plan Hinata was aware of, though Shikamaru started feeling guilty as time went on. His plan did work, but not how he intended, as Sasuke began to develop feelings for Hinata, and so did Shikamaru, all while Shikamaru still had lingering feelings for Sasuke. It was a chaotic love triangle (or square?) that I’m honestly embarrassed about now. 😅I’m planning to rewrite it to improve the story and smooth out the messy drama while keeping the tension intact. I haven’t decided if the rewrite will end as ShikaHina or ShikaHinaSasu, so stay tuned!

Chapters Completed So Far: None. I haven’t gotten around to starting the rewrite yet.

7. Rekindling a Friendship Story

Pairings: SasuHina, NaruHina (minor, one-sided), SasuSaku (one-sided)

Brief Summary: Similar to how Sasuke and Hinata were portrayed as siblings in my ShikaHina story, Shadows in Bloom, this new story takes a similar approach but removes the sibling dynamic, focusing instead on their past friendship before the Uchiha massacre. For those who haven’t read Shadows in Bloom, Sasuke was friends with Hinata (and her family) before the massacre, and when he returned to the village, they rekindled that bond. This story will be set during the Blank Period with a few changes: Sasuke accepts having his arm repaired, he never leaves the village, and Naruto and Hinata aren’t a couple. Sasuke stays in Konoha and reconnects with Hinata, eventually turning their renewed friendship into something deeper.

Chapters Completed So Far: None (just an outline).

8. Bonding Over Grief Story

Pairing: SasuHina

Brief Summary: Set after the Fourth Great Ninja War, this story explores how Sasuke and Hinata each withdraw from their friends in different ways due to depression. They repeatedly cross paths at Konoha’s Cemetery and begin to form a connection through shared grief. Sasuke wrestles with nightmares of Itachi, guilt over killing him, and the burden of being the last Uchiha, while Hinata mourns Neji’s death. This will be a heavy story touching on themes of loss, mourning, survivor’s guilt, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Trigger warnings include suicidal ideation, depression, trauma/flashbacks, and more. The narration will alternate solely between Sasuke and Hinata (one chapter from Hinata’s POV, the next from Sasuke’s), which may make for an intense read at times. I did consider including other characters’ perspectives to show how they perceive Sasuke and Hinata’s behavior, but decided to keep the focus on the two of them. Despite the heavier tone, there will be moments of hope as the story progresses. It’s also likely to be a slow burn, as I want to keep their emotional journey as realistic as possible.

Chapters Finished So Far: None (only an outline).

Out of all these stories, the Broken Marriage story and the Bonding Over Grief story, are the only slow burns, but the Broken Marriage story will be longer. I can’t wait to start posting these, but for now, my main focus is completing Glass Tears. Once I’ve finished at least half of the chapters for any of these upcoming stories, I’ll start posting!

Stay tuned! 💖

[emjee]

In honor of trying to focus on things that give joy in the next few days: would you be willing to go into what it is you love about opera & tips for things to look for that a noob might miss? I've seen a few & I've found them mildly interesting, but I also feel like maybe I'm missing context or knowledge or perspective to appreciate them more!

Yes!! Mwahahaha, yes!! Thank you for such a great ask.

The thing that I love first and foremost about opera is that it's theatre. I was lucky to grow up regularly attending plays at a university theatre, musicals at community theatres or one that came through on tour, and opera. These experiences were all of a piece in my mind, you just adjusted how much music there was!

I think, at least for me, that the key to really enjoying an opera is finding ones where you are both interested by the plot and really taken with the music. The first opera I ever loved was Carmen, and it's because every time I hear that overture I go YOOOOOO. If you're looking for a starting place, there's a lot of Best Of collections of famous pieces from famous operas, and you can always give one of those a listen and see what jumps out to you, then go check out the whole opera. When I was in college I used to always put on a playlist like that while I was getting ready to go out (rip 8tracks you are MiSSED) and when I was getting back into opera I went "hey I used to do my eyeliner while listened to the overture to Barber of Seville, maybe I should go watch the whole thing."

Something I really love about opera is that it's about feelings--just big feelings all over the place, and so I kind of let my feelings guide me when I'm engaging with a piece, if that makes sense? My appreciation of a production rests in large part on how it makes me feel. I like watching different productions of the same opera (we're not going to get into how many different productions of Marriage of Figaro I've watched in the last two weeks) because my familiarity with the plot and the music allows me to pay a little more attention to the theatrical side of things--the acting, the staging, the setting, etc. That goes back to the whole "opera's a type of theatre" mentality I had from the start.

It's early where I am and I haven't had coffee yet, so if you have questions or you're like "that's not quite the kind of rambly answer I was looking for" just drop by and say so! I'm literally always happy to talk about this.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[ningtual]

not a sunwoo edit of him saying shibal going viral on tt again, you guys come back when you actually care about the boyz and aren't being babies about someone swearing ....

[adore-gregor]

🤞

[moonchild-in-blue]

Sometimes all you need is a good ol' coffee shop au tbh.

[batfamfucker]

TikTok is now at the 'fake movie' stage Tumblr was at a few months back. Whilst we had Goncharov, they have a movie called 'Zepotha'.

For the trend, people will comment on videos to say the creator 'Looks like [Random Name] from Zepotha' and make up lore, edits and aesthetic videos based on the film, ect. It's a horror movie from the 80s. Everyone is upset the couple they were rooting for died.

[alltimefail-sims]

You know what? I think we all need to start gatekeeping some townies and premades a little harder lmfao

[navramanan]

I go through these short periods of time feeling very okay and good even only bc i distract myself from what pains me until it catches up again and the cycle repeats itself