#also it’s been almost 2 years since they’ve been out not 1

[updatingranboo]

ranboo 😭

[hazeldragonblossoms]

aita for trying to summon a god to resurrect my wife?

i (142m) recently lost my wife (139f) to terminal illness. we were married for nearly 127 years, and were survivors of a disaster that destroyed our home city and killed nearly everyone in it. she was my best friend, the love of my life, and the light of my world. i’ve spent months trying to move on, but the pain of losing her has only grown stronger since her death, with my grief eventually leading me to quit my job and travel in the hopes of finding something else to live for. i will be upfront in admitting that, in the process of quitting, i blew up the school i worked at (no one was hurt), almost killed my assistant (he’s fine), and released a bunch of monsters from the abandoned gated community i had contained them in a few decades prior (long story).

anyway, during my travels i came across a relic that contained immense necromantic power, but i quickly realized that i would be unable to utilize it for my purposes on my own, as my wife had been dead for several months by that time and was well past the point of resurrection by conventional means. long story short, i decided to harness the power of the same god that caused the disaster that destroyed my and my wife’s former home.

as it turns out, my former boss (????m) picked up a kid (13x) off the street around the same time this was happening, and tasked my brother (also 142m, we’re twins) with teaching them magic. i won’t bore you with the details, but this thirteen year old now keeps following me around and fucking up my plans to reunite with my true love, which i’m frankly tired of.

(side note: this kid also won a fighting competition that hasn’t been won by someone from our school since i attended. i need to remind you, they are thirteen. i’m not certain they’d ever used magic before my boss picked them up, so i have no idea how this possibly could have happened, or when they had the time to even attend the fights since they’ve seemingly dedicated the majority of their time to fucking me over for no good reason.)

my ex-boss seems to think that summoning this being is a “bad idea” and could “destroy the world,” but 1. i’m doing it in my already ruined hometown and 2. i think that the world is a small price to pay to have my wife back. it’s not like it’s worth much without her in it, anyway.

edit: shut up about the fucking giant tree it’s an unrelated current event. you can’t prove that i actually did anything to him, and it’s rude to accuse people baselessly

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Reasons why they should bring Seb back

Now that they’ve gone through the trouble of killing Rebecca off screen (hooray! It’s about time!), it seems only logical that they would do the right thing and bring Seb back, which means I have absolutely zero confidence in them doing so. But here’s my list of why they really really should, as I have been advocating for years now.

Section 1: It would break Aaron out of character growth jail. Since Robert went to prison, Aaron has lost so much. He’s lost a husband and a sister. He lost being a married man, owning his own home and owning his own business. And one of the most important growth things he lost was being a father. He’d already lost Seb and Ryan leaving wrecked the surrogacy story. So bringing Seb back would:

1. Allow Aaron to fulfill the dream he had of being a father and having a family. So many characters just get handed unwanted children but Aaron actually wanted to be a dad and so of course he lost out on that. Giving him Seb would allow him to realize that goal again.

2. Allow Aaron to grow up again. Since his return, he’s been angry, mean, adrift, committing petty crime again for no reason. Seb being back would give him purpose and a reason to clean up his act. It would allow him to get to be an adult again, something the character sorely needs.

3. Allow Aaron to have screen time and positive story. Aaron has been off screen a lot, so much so that all of his current relationship story development has taken place almost entirely off screen. Seb being back would give Aaron an actual story to play out, especially if there were difficulties in getting formal custody. It’s also a story that would have a happy outcome, once he gets custody, which is something the show could really use right now in the midst of all of the depressing terrible stories. And Aaron has always had such a miserable time on the show so I feel like people would root for something good to happen to him.

4. Allow Aaron to have new kinds of stories. Single Dad Aaron opens up so man new possibilities for him, being able to take on a parental role, having to think about Seb’s needs and not just his own.

5. Allow Aaron to have a full circle moment looking after a troubled kid the way Paddy looked after him.

6. Allow Aaron to interact with new characters. Single Dad Aaron would have more opportunity to interact with the other parents in the village. It might give him more reason to have a proper friendship with Billy for example aside from silly illegal boxing stories. It puts him into new circles, which can open him up for new possibilities.

Section 2: Seb gives Aaron a permanent tie to Robert. For whatever reason, the powers that be seem unwilling to let Aaron fully move on from Robert (that’s another whole post I want to write) but this would give them real reason for Robert to be a constant presence in Aaron’s life without it seeming weird or needing Ryan back. It allows him to never fully move on. The Seb/Robert connection:

1. Allows Aaron to keep Robert in his heart through Seb. He can bring him up with Seb, helping his son love his father and making sure he knows who he was/is.

2. Allows Aaron to maybe hear from Robert from time to time. Robert might have to consent to Aaron being the one to have custody of Seb and Robert wanting that, would be a nice signal to Aaron to that Robert still loves him and trusts him.

3. Allows Aaron to maybe finally deal with some of his Robert feelings in a more productive way, in a more positive way. And because he’s raising his kid, in a way that perhaps even his mother could understand and allow.

4. Allows Aaron to bring Robert up in any new relationship, not just because the show makes him accidentally sleep with Robert’s long lost gay half brother. He needs to consider Seb’s feelings in any new relationship and part of that can be whether Robert would approve of said new man in his son’s life.

5. Allows for an even more interesting return story should they ever actually coax Ryan Hawley back.

Section 3: Bringing Seb back can be a part of rebuilding the Sugdens. Obviously that was a line they used in reference to bringing John in and we’ve seen what a joke that has been. However, Seb:

1. Is the son of the ultimate Emmerdale Sugden legacy character, Robert. And he’s not retconned in the way John is. He’s someone people can watch grow up and continue the family legacy, especially if they go the full mile and give him his proper name.

2. Allows them to bring Aaron more into the Sugden family. While, yes, Seb would probably get lumped into the Dingles at times because of Aaron, Aaron can also get brought into Sugden family time, such as it is.

3. Allows them to give Vic and Harry more screen time, and use Vic’s obsessive family tendencies to get Seb back, giving her something positive to do instead of just being annoying. It maybe lets Harry become more of an actual character if he has a cousin with story potential.

4. Gives the Sugdens, such as they are, someone to rally around in general.

5. Is actually related to people like the Merricks, unlike Vic, if they wanted to explore that connection as well.

Section 4: Bringing Seb back is the perfect opportunity to use the fact that Danny is good with the kids.

1. Danny is great with the kids on screen and off and the kids seem to love him back.

2. It would be a better way to use some of his more cringe humor.

3. If they actually cast a good kid actor that Danny can play off of well, they could be such a fun little duo.

Section 5: There’s no reason not to do it. There’s nothing stopping them other than their own inability to tell a good or even mediocre story.

1. They’ve already gone through the trouble of killing Rebecca off. What was the point of that if they’re not going to bring Seb back. They’ve already done half the work.

2. It’s not contingent on getting an actor like Ryan back. They can literally cast any red headed or blonde child for the role (hopefully a good one but I digress…)

So in conclusion: BRING SEB HOME!

[meliciousmel13]

̗̗̀̀➛ O u c h !

warnings: fluff.

wc: 1500 something. Short but likeee.

SYNOPSIS: you get you wisdom teeth removed.

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife @bandanamatt @chrissv4mp

an: 2 fics in a row?? i'm on a roll??

also! if your worried about the fic you'll be getting on friday you'll still be getting it! this is just kind of a short thing that i've been planning for a while

madison reassured you that she would take care of you when you were on anesthesia, knowing you were worried to say some absolutely crazy secret of when you stole a candy bar from a gas station when you were 11, or something totally random that you don’t want your mom to know about. your mom was gonna drive you and madison would stay in the back seat with you. you agreed with your mom that when you turn 21 your get your wisdom teeth removed. a deal. right?

no. your 22 now and still scared as hell. because after a whole year of reassuring it was gonna be fine. it’s only 1 week that your entire face hurts.

you weren’t sure if you were doing it for the ice cream, or if it’s because of your promise. but half of the entire reason your doing this is the thought that madison would take care of you the whole time.

how her hands would softly run through your hair to put you to sleep. she already did that everyday (perks of having a great girlfriend). but when your entire face hurts and you can’t even sleep on your side, it really really helps.

you groan as you see the long line of traffic. like this day—week could get any worse, you were probably going to have to go through a gazillion traffic too.

“don’t whine.” madison giggled, patting your head that was on her shoulder, you were basically all over her—almost fully sat on her lap, probably would’ve been if it weren’t for your mom and your brother being in the same car. you had your arms around her waist and your face smudged into her shoulder.

you whine, just to spite her. your mom laughed, letting out a big airy chuckle, “this would’ve happened sooner if you weren’t so suborn.” she said, and you dig your head into madison’s neck, you and your brother made a bet that if she said ‘i told you so’ in any shape way or form you’d pay him, 15 dollars, since you were petty like that.

he turned to look at you and you shook you head, as if saying ‘not now dude, not now.’ madison looked out the window, “we’re almost there.” she said with glee, and you gave her a ‘are you serious’ look, “what? you know how funny your going be when your on anesthesia?”

“do you want me to ask your mom how you were when you got your wisdom teeth removed?” madison shook her head and you smiled, exactly.

your mom parks the car and everyone got out the car, walking towards the tall building and madison held your hand, knowing how much you hated anything hospital related, your mom was checking in with the receptionist of your appointment and you were anxiously looking around the place, it was decorated with a TV hung overhead playing cartoons and white walls and small tables littering the waiting room.

now begins the long 10 minutes of waiting for your name to get called, madison held your hand and rubbed her thumb in circles around your hand. you’ve never been more grateful to have her with you.

“y/n?” the nurse called you name and it echoed through the half empty room. you stood up and everyone followed the nurse to the doctors office, having to go up an elevator and the silence was deafening.

you walked into the office and the doctor was sat in his chair, “hi, i’m doctor stephan, i’ll be taking care of you today.” he smiled, got up and shook your hand briefly, “you can lay down here, relax, and i’ll be with you in a second.” he said, pointing at the large chair, adjusting it so you could sort of lay down on it.

its been 15 minutes now, they’ve already put you on anesthesia but it needs some time to actually start numbing your face.

“how do you feel?” you mom asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear, “s’ fine” you murmured, unable to feel your tongue.

“it’s working.” you said and madison laughed, “is it?” she tilted her head, rubbing your hips, your brother was taking incriminating photos of you while your mom was on her phone.

“when will the do it?” you ask, laying your head back on the chair and talking to no one in particular, “why are they taking so long?” you ask, again.

your brother shrugs, not even bothering to get up and ask. one of the nurses came in the room and the doctor trailed behind her. dr.stephan sat on his chair next to you and adjusted a strong white light right to your face.

the nurse said that everyone needed to get out the room, and you hugged madison briefly before she walked out.

“so, your going to be awake but you won’t feel anything alright? we’re gonna give you something to fidget with since this might take a while, about an hour.” the nurse explained and you nodded. she adjusted the chair so you were starring at the ceiling.

the operation did take an hour, but they made you feel really comfortable and it wasn’t as bad as your thought it would be, dr.stephan was now filling your mouth with gauze because your gums were literally bleeding.

they were trying to get you on the wheelchair and because your brother was there (the only reason he was there for.) he helped you get on it, you mom and madison were talking to the doctor, since he needed to give them some things to take care of your mouth. things like, gauze, medicine and his phone number if they wanted to ask any questions.

you were in the car now, your mom and brother in the front while madison was sat with you in the back. your brother was playing awful music and you wanted nothing more than for him to turn it off. or put chappell roan or anything good.

“stop that.” you said, the gauze in your mouth making your words muffle.

“stop what?” you mom asked.

“the music.”

your brother said nothing, not wanting to fight with protective madison over music, “mama, mom, mommy.” you lean over your seat and lay your head on the passenger seat.

“what?”

“what’s this,” you touch your numb tongue, and your mom shook her head, not replying, “what is itt.” you whine.

“don’t touch your mouth.” madison said, and you listened, laying back on the chair, "do you have games on your phone?” you asked, like a little kid.

“i don’t, actually.” she said, and you took her phone from her hands, browsing her apps.

“you don’t even have anything fun on your phone,” you mumbled, “Instagram, snap chat… you have snap chat?”

“mhm” she hummed.

“why.”

“because sometimes you send me stuff on there baby.” she said fondly.

“why are you calling me baby.” you said, like it was the weirdest thing ever.

“because your my girlfriend.” she laughed.

“i have a girlfriend? mom i have a girlfriend?” you asked.

“yes,” she said, “madison is your girlfriend.” she laughed, everyone was laughing.

“how did i get one.” you mumbled, “i also think about that everyday.” your brother exclaimed. being as annoying as he always was, “at least i have a girlfriend. idiot.” you said.

“madison is also a singer.” your mom said, and you gasped, “your a singer?” you whisper, looking at madison. she nodded, with a smile on her face.

“so i have a girlfriend and she’s actually cool.”

the ride was kind of not awful, you got home and your mom reminded you to shut your mouth since if you talked too much then your gums might start bleeding again, doctors orders.

madison ordered something and everyone was enjoying real food while you were stuck with water and mashed potatoes. and you couldn’t even say anything about it because the doctor said you can’t eat any food that needed chewing.

“madi.” you called out her name in the empty room, she drove back to her house and took you with her, she was in the bathroom, doing her skin routine and brushing her teeth. all you did was dress up in one of her shirts and sweatpants. she was taking an abnormally long time in the bathroom and you were sleepy, not able to sleep without her.

“yeah baby?” she peaked her head through the bathroom door.

“need you.” you said, laying back on her warm bed, and her pillows, and her smell.

“jus’ gimme a sec.” madison murmured, putting up her hair amd walking towards you, getting in bed and hugging your waist, humming.

“that should be me.” you pout.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” madison asked, looking up at you from her comfortable position.

you shook your head and sat her up, making her lay back on the bed and switched your position, so you were on top of her. sitting on her lap, and leaning down so you could sleep with your head dug into her neck, better then sleeping alone, and on your side.

“baby,” madison laughed, “i can’t sleep if your on top of me.”

“then how do i sleep?”

she flips you both over, settling on her side, with your face still in her neck, “better?” she turned off the orange light and kissed you forehead.

“mhm.” you hum, it was better cause your cheek wasn’t touching or pressing on anything so you could sleep comfortably.

“goodnight baby.” madison mumbled. you hummed in response. leaving a small dry kiss at her neck.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you 

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 

dude 

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins 

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers 

wow 

fuck you

just landed 

thought you might like to know 

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 

September 2021

dude enough okay 

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk 

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   

November 2021 

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm 

idk why i’m trying again  

maybe i should block you 

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was 

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige 

merry christmas i guess

March 2022 

i misz you 

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich 

pkese pick up 

ignore that 

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 

wait 

i don’t need to tell you that 

you already ignore it all anyways

 

August 2022 

i heard about the acl 

i’m sorry 

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm 

***

September 2022 

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 

 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

*** 

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 

“You wanna see my dorm?” 

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 

“You having fun?” 

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------------

Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

[lyjen]

Ask for help | Part 2

Evan Buckley x Sister reader

A request by: @shauna-carsley - The request

Summary: As (y/n) and her fiancé get hit by a drunk driver, she loses the love of her life. Her family and best friend are trying to help her whenever and where they possibly can. Until she shuts them out.

<< Previous Chapter | 9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added in the comments or message me! 😊🫶🏽

______

(Y/n) is standing in front of the station. Simply just staring at the giant red garage doors. After weeks of physical therapy, and talking to Frank she was back at work. She took one more deep breath, and walked into the firehouse.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, she walked over the threshold into the firehouse and made her way towards the locker room. When she heard a familiar voice calling through the firehouse. “Well if it isn’t my favorite paramedic!” Eddie’s voice spoke as he ran down stairs and across the floor towards his best friend. He opened his arms and pulled her into a hug. “Finally we get to work together again” he spoke as he almost squeezed her to death.

A smile formed on (y/n)’s face, Eddie’s arm patted on her back and he pulled back. Eddie held her shoulders as he scanned her body. She was looking good. She finally was dragged out of that deep dark hole.”I'm so proud of you” he said as he once more pulled her close and pressed a small kiss on the back of her head.

Eddie was happy to see that she actually was getting better.He slung his arm around her shoulder as he walked with her between the trucks, towards the locker room. “Are you ready for your first shift back?” he asked. She sighed, “Yeah.. I think I'm ready to get back out there, and actually do what I love.”

It has been a rough couple of weeks, months. Ever since Eddie came over to her house and confronted her with her problems, they’ve been closer than ever. Which even (y/n) didn’t know that was possible. She has been close to Eddie for years, but to think that this horrible situation actually made them become even closer, filled her heart with love. Eddie had helped (y/n) a lot in these last couple of weeks. If Eddie didn’t show up when he did, she still might have been in her bed, crying over Jay, or maybe she wouldn’t even have made it this far.

She went to therapy, which helped a lot. (Y/n) wasn’t the kind of person to talk to a stranger about her feelings, it made her uncomfortable. But she knew she needed help, so she had to just step out of her comfort zone, and set her standards aside and talk to Frank. What also helped was that she knew she had the entire 118 who had her back. Even if it was only a phone call or a text, it was enough for her. It made her feel like she was being seen.

A smile was spread across Eddie’s face as she said those words. “We’re happy to have you back (y/n), It hasn’t been the same here without you.” he spoke. (Y/n) softly nodded, while she pressed her lips into a thin line, not really knowing what to say.

She was happy to be back at the firehouse, but she was scared for this shift. It has been a while since she gave medical advice. But she knew she had her fellow paramedics to lean on, Eddie, Hen and Chimney would be there every step of the way.

(Y/n) walked into the locker room, following after Eddie. “Well if it isn’t my favorite Buckley sibling!” Bobby said as his eyes spotted her walking into the room. Bobby tied the lace of his boot and made his way towards the female firefighter who just entered the room.

Her brother was right there, just pressing the last button of his shirt. Evan scoffed at Bobby’s words, “Hello? "I'm right here!” he said offended, but Bobby just ignored him. Evan didn't seem too happy with Bobby calling her his favorite Buckley. But, for now he could live with that. He loved his sister, and he was happy to see her back at work again. So if that would mean that she was at the moment Bobby’s favorite, he was okay with that.

Evan felt a hand land on his shoulder, when he looks to the left he sees Eddie just laughing at his comment.

“Welcome back firefighter Buckley, glad to have you back.” Bobby said as he squeezed her shoulder. Her eyes wandered from the hand on her shoulder to Bobby. “Thanks cap, it’s good to be back again.” Bobby’s hand slipped away from her shoulder and he left the locker room.

“Ready for the chaos today, sis?” Evan spoke as (Y/n) let her bag fall onto the bench in front of her locker. “Are you ever really ready?” she asked as she started to peel off the taped on name of the floater who used the locker. Evan smiled at her reaction, that was the kind of reaction he would’ve expected from his sister. He was happy to see this side of her again. This time she wasn’t screaming at him, crying or feeling down. “We’ll leave you to it.” Eddie said as he walked out of the locker room with Evan following close behind him, when Evan stopped as he passed by his sister.

“If there’s anything wrong, just tell me. Okay? I'm here for you.” he spoke as he reassuringly squeezed her upper arm. “I know..” she says as she lays her hand on his and rubs up and down on the back of his hand. Evan gave her a small smile and jogged out of the locker room. “Oh and Buck..” Evan stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his sister once more. “Thank you… for not giving up on me.” she said while she fiddled her uniform shirt in her hands.

“Always.”

______

The sirens of the trucks and ambulance roared through the streets of Los Angeles. The blue and red lights were lighting up the night sky of Los Angeles, as they raced towards the scene.

The entire day the 118 had been on small calls like: cats that needed rescuing from trees and small kitchen fires. But this one sounded like they were going to be busy for a moment.

The ambulance pulled to a stop as Hen stepped on the brake. “We got this, lets go” Hen gave (y/n) a small peptalk. She trusted her, even though this was her first shift after her accident.

(Y/n) pushed the passenger door of the ambulance open and hopped out. She opened the door of the ambulance and she grabbed the medic bag from the back. But when she turned her face towards the scene, her stomach turned and she got the feeling like she couldn’t breathe.

It was exactly the situation she would’ve been in if she steered one inch to the left or right. She just stood there, like she had turned into a statue. The chaotic sounds on scene became an echo, nothing came through. Everything around her seems to be moving in slow motion.

She wanted to move, she really did. But it felt like her legs were made of stone, and she couldn’t seem to move. “(Y/n)?” An echo of her name sounded through her eardrums, but as soon as she felt a hand on her shoulder, she woke up from her trance. “(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Hen asked her partner. (Y/n) shook off the thought, “Yeah” she whispered, barely audible, and she followed Hen towards the scene.

The car crashed into a concrete wall and had just missed a tree.

Before the team came up with a plan on how to open the driver's door, (y/n) quickly put her index and middle finger on the neck of the victim, checking for his pulse. “He has a pulse but it’s barely there!” she said as she ran towards the other side of the car, which was busted open with a halligan so (Y/n) could enter the car.

Before she could get into the passenger side of the car, she stopped in her tracks as a vague figure stepped forward. “That could’ve been you.” his voice spoke. It was Jay. His voice. His body. The whole picture, it was here.

She felt like she was going to lose it right here, right now. (Y/n) closed her eyes for a second, “He’s not real.” she whispered to herself, and she got in the car. She had to stay focussed, she was going to prove herself and her team that she still could do her job, after all she had been through.

(Y/n) had heard his voice inside her head for weeks. But it looked like, just as everything in her life started to get good again, her mind was telling her no.

She leaned her left leg onto the chair and her right leg was balancing her on the floor of the car as she tried to access the man. The victim's head was leaning against the steering wheel, with lots of blood on the right side of the person's face. His head had hit the windshield. (Y/n) could see his eye rolling to the back of his head as she carefully helped the man to sit up straight so she could put on the neck brace.

The figure she was imagining was now in the back of the car, leaning over to look at what she was doing. “Well, that was too late for me” he said. That was typically what he would’ve said. He was the one with the darkest humor and the sarcasm all over the place.

She shook her head at the reaction of the figure. Maybe it would go away if she just ignored it and stayed focussed on the job. A shiver rolled down her spine as she took a look at the man’s face. It looked so much worse than she thought. “Hen, get me a neck brace!” she called over to her partner, who passed her a neck brace. She carefully slipped on the brace and secured it around her neck.

In the meanwhile Eddie was opening the driver’s door with the jaws so they could easily help the man get out of the car on a backboard.

“Let’s get a backboard!” Eddie yelled at the team, who passed the backboard towards the driver’s side of the car.

“Watch his head” Eddie warned the other firefighters as Eddie and Evan turned the man on his seat and slipped him onto a backboard. Another firefighter already had the gurney waiting on the side “Let’s move it!” Eddie spoke as a bunch of firefighters carried the backboard with the man on it towards the gurney and carefully heaved him over onto the gurney.

When (Y/n) stepped out of the car, and took a few steps back from the vehicle.

“You did a great job.” Jay’s voice sounded proud.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in, but it sounded more like a cry. Both her hands went into her hair and she let herself fall down on her knees. She felt like she was going to lose her mind all over again. Tears were rolling down her face.

(Y/n) knew she had to step into that ambulance with Hen, but as soon as Bobby saw her there, in the middle of the street. He told Chimney to get in the back of the ambulance and drive with Hen towards the hospital. Bobby knew she needed a minute as soon as he looked at her face.

“Hey hey hey! You okay?” Evan spoke up as he kneeled down beside his sister and slid his hand onto her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

She let her hands slide over her face, to wipe away her tears and to process what the hell just happened. (Y/n) looked silently at her brother, “I think so.. just, some stress I guess.” she whispered as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

“Sounds like this call was a little too close to home, Am I right?” Evan asked as he placed his hand on the back of her head, reeling her into his body. He felt her head nod against his shoulder as an answer to his question.

Her hands slipped underneath his arms to reach his back and she turned her head so her ear was now against his chest. They just stayed silent for a bit, hugging each other. That’s what she needed for a long time, someone who would just give her a hug sometimes.

Sure, she would get hugs from Eddie. But right now what she wanted was a hug from her brother, the brother who raised her, the same way Maddie raised Evan. And just tell her that everything was going to be okay. That she would be okay.

She pulled back from the hug and let her hands rest on his forearms. “This all made me think of.. what I’ve been through or what could’ve happened.” she spoke up as she looked down at her knees that were connected with the asphalt.

Evan nodded at her confession, he understood what she meant. This call was almost an exact copy of the situation she was in months ago. He remembered that night, the way his heart dropped at the sight. The way he wished that it wasn’t his sister’s car that crashed into the tree. The way he screamed her name on the top of his lungs.

After a few counts of silence (y/n)’s voice made its way through Evan’s eardrums. “I’ve been seeing him.” she whispered.

Evan’s face morphed into a confused look, he didn’t understand what she said. She has been seeing him? What did she mean by that? “What?” Evan said as he furrowed his eyebrows at his sister.

“Jay. Sometimes I can just see him, and sometimes I can only hear his voice. I know I sound like a crazy person-”

“No, no, no! Not at all. You’re not crazy.” Evan interrupted as he felt like (Y/n) was sounding like she was going to rattle. “You’ve been through a traumatizing event, of course it’s gonna leave its scars. And I do believe that you can hear him or sometimes see him, and that’s fine.” He tries to comfort her.

He moved his hand to the back of her head as he looked into his sister’s eyes.

“To me it sounds like you will never forget Jay the way he was. That you won’t remember him as the Jay you saw when you crashed your car.” Tears were welling into her eyes again as he said those words. She closed her eyes as she looked down to her knees and a tear escaped her eyelids. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she faced Evan once more. “Thank you” she cried. “Always” And he pushed the hand which was resting on the back of her head towards his chest, so she could bury her face into his chest. “I’ll always be there for you.”

[crazylittlejester]

Hello hello, coming over to ask about the modern au. :) Do Sky and Wild ever stress cook together? Does Warriors knit sweaters for his cats? Does Twilight bring home strays sometimes?

1. THEY DO, once they actually become friends. Wild’s funny in this au because he met and befriended Wars and Twi individually, and they didn’t realize they both knew Wild. So Wars would literally be talking about him like “yeah my friend who helps me with photoshoots and has helped me design costumes for years now” and then Twi would be like “oh yeah my buddy who comes to take pictures of the penguins at work like twice a week” and then Sky would come home from work every day crying about the guy who orders ice water “in a mug, for here please” because he cannot comprehend why in a MUG and it drives him nuts, and NONE of them realized they were talking about the same guy. and then one day Wars invited Wild over to help him with something and poor Sky opened the door to see the bane of his existence standing on the other side and he screamed in genuine fear. They’re friends now, but Sky’s eye DOES twitch every time Wild makes him put ice water in a mug

2. HE DOESN’T :( his cats in this au have fur so they don’t need the sweaters to keep em warm. Wars also doesn’t have the time to knit, he’s incredibly busy running around all day and his “destress hobby” is another physical activity so he’s really either dancing/in class, skating, hanging out with friends from class to grab lunch, dead on his apartment floor, or Twi got enough food in him and forced him to sleep long enough that he’ll play a video game or read a book aalskkddk

3. Twi is MUCH more likely to bring a stray to Time and Malon than he is the apartment. They’re basically his parents, they’ve had him since he was one and he LOVES animals and they’re well aware of this aldkdk. And he knows his roommates wouldn’t be able to handle another animal, the only reason Wars has his cats was because he’s had them since middle school and he wasn’t about to abandon them with his mother (otherwise he would not have animals because he’s so busy, but he’s lucky because the cats have become all of their cats and they’re very well cared for). So Twi takes animals to Time and Malon instead, who will help care for whatever he brings home until it can either: Go free because he brought them a Wild Animal, get adopted, or Time gets a soft spot for it and has to BEG Malon to let him keep it. And this is why they have Several dogs (who are all very spoiled because they are Time’s children. Malon will wake up in the middle of the night like ‘ah yes, me, my husband, and his four large emotional support dogs) (It’s not hard to guess where Two got his soft spot for animals from, and Malon is just mad that he and Time have the EXACT same “please let me help this little guy” face)

Twi has a habit of finding things/people who need a little extra love and bringin’ em to the ranch. Wars has been in almost every family holiday photo since their sophomore year of high school because Malon INSISTED he come over and get out of his house and just relax for a little. Sky’s in a few as well, but Wars really has been in nearly every single one for the past seven years

[chevelleneech]

I have a question. (Or maybe rant)

We all saw how many staff members are there in all 3 episodes. Let's just say Jikook is actually a couple ...Why would a couple who hasn't spent any time together in so long want to spend the time they finally got for themselves in front of so many staff members?? Why would they flirt in front of so many people knowing they were getting filmed when they could have done it all in private??? Isn't it uncomfortable and weird for any couple?? Especially a closeted queer one?? This thought always comes to my mind before too whenever I see any jikook moment. It can only mean 2 things... 1- maybe staff also knows about them and are close to them both as friends so jikook has no problem flirting and behaves couply in front of them. Or 2-- maybe they are not a couple...and staff knows that..so everything is just normal for them to see cz they know jikook friendly dynamic is just like this.

Or Maybe.... Against all of this...

Some of the staff don't know about their real relationship...that is why the car talk happened...the control touches happened... teasing which almost sounds rude sometimes happened cz they need to hide from some of their staff too?? At least for sometime when cameras are on.

I don't know but this thing sometimes makes me confused and thought. Before.. whenever I see a jikook moment...I was like...okay sometimes couples do slip. You know... working together basically 24/7 in front of cameras all the time...make you alert but also makes you slip sometimes whenever you are around your partner. But I don't know now when I see how many people are there just filming the two of them. It should be awkward for a closeted queer couple as famous as them...be continuously filmed without any other member. Just the two of them . It always makes me doubt that their relationship isn't a romantic one.

Well, to answer this question honestly, it requires kind of ignoring the possibility of them being in a relationship entirely. That aspect is completely subjective and is based purely on how we as fans interpret their behavior, which could very easily be wrong on our end.

As such, I think your question should instead focus on your curiosity in how the members have any sort of normal/natural interactions whilst being filmed and overseen by at minimum 10 people everyday. And I don’t remove Jikook dating from the equation to be evasive, but to be realistic.

Realistically, all of their interactions are being watched. The seven of them have not been without a camera crew for the last twelve years. Yes, they take personal trips and can live their lives relatively without them, but majority of their lives are filmed and edited. As a result, they have had to grow extremely comfortable with being who they are both on camera and in front of a rotation of strangers. We know their camera men are not always the same, because they’ve mentioned before how they remember this or that one from previous times working with them.

So I imagine their freedom to be themselves relies heavily upon Big Hit keeping a more or less familiar rotation of crew. Not necessarily people who the members would consider friends, but people they have grown to trust over the years. And that trust is not something given blindly. It is obtained likely out of years of these people not breeching their contracts. Which is another aspect of what the members had to become comfortable with.

Contracts, contracts, contracts. Especially in the last five years or so, BTS crew are working with the some of the most famous people in music, but also in South Korean entertainment entirely. Meaning their contracts are very likely iron clad. These people will be sued out of not only their own ass, but their great grandchild’s too, if they speak on anything the contract tells them not to.

So for example, if we use the fact that RM has been dating around (as he’s told us himself), and the assumption that at least one of his partners was a man, since he’s also used gender specific pronouns in his lyrics and at the very least left questionable hints on his IG, it is very reasonable to assume the BTS film crew is aware that there is a queer member within the group, yet nothing about it has been leaked.

Did they film them together? Not that we know of, but it proves their lives off camera continue to happen. Same with Tae and Jennie. We didn’t see any footage of them interacting from official content, but it would be ridiculous to assume they never interacted within each other’s personal spaces just because their camera crews and staff were around. In fact, there is a photo of Tae getting his hair and makeup done with Jennie in the background.

So it’s really just a matter of which partners the members want to integrate into their work lives, as well as them simply being people with personal lives.

Therefore, if we do circle back to the possibility of Jimin and Jungkook being romantically involved, the reality of a film crew who are contracted to essentially ignore any and everything the guys do, and just film it… don't really matter. They matter as people obviously, but it is literally their job to see and hear nothing. They get paid to record, and keep their mouths shut. It is then the editors jobs to remove any and everything “incriminating” to ensure no one knows who the members are dating, who they hate, who they wanna fuck, etc.

At the same time however, the members are incredibly professional and it is highly unlikely they talk cash shit or actually kiss anyone in front of their crew. Not because they’re afraid, but because it lowers the risk of a crew member going rogue and saying, “fuck this contract!” and blasting any photos or videos across the media.

So if Jimin and JK truly are together in some form, it is most likely they just don’t do anything in front of their crew. Skinship is not abnormal in idol groups, so they’ve got that going in their favor. They’ve also been friends for over a decade, so no one is really going to bat an eye at the two of them being emotionally connected and concerned about each other. They’re close, but not stupid, basically.

Lastly, I also have to say, even though I am choosing to believe them saying they didn’t see each other often during early 2023, I do also think it’s important to keep in mind they don’t live an average life. So their time apart being for various reasons including work, is not the same sort of time apart non-famous people would be seeking private time to reconcile. Jimin and JK (if they were reconciling romance) killed two birds with one stone.

They filmed content for when they enlisted, but they also got to spend time together. Presumably, they are also in charge of what the camera films. So knowing 1) the cameras turn off when they say, 2) the crew is contracted to basically shut the fuck up and look away, and 3) editors will chop out whatever they tell them to… anything more than what they want to show in a professional setting is not getting filmed nor overheard by crew.

So, seeing as I truly do not think any of the members are out here being reckless when the crew is nearby, I must assume its probably not that difficult to maintain a line between professional and personal when filming reality content.

[hellcat1324]

Fundraiser Masterlist

Latest Update 09/27/2024

Since there’s so many fundraisers that I try to reblog/share, this will be the masterlist for all of them just so ya’ll don’t have to bother going through BOTH my blogs to find them.

They’ve all been vetted either by me, Operation Olive Branch/Poppy Flower, or by others I trust.

I will declare LOW FUNDING if they are less than 1/4 through their goal

CLOSE TO COMPLETION will be to those who are 5-7k away from their goal.

HALF WAY is pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll also do it if it’s a little over half way.

DONE will be those who reached their goals

Vetted Family Escape GFMS:

Fidaa (mother of 2 small children under 3): @fidaa-family2 vetted by @90-ghost $30K Goal completed, new goal is $75K. Currently at $38.867K/$75K OVER HALF WAY

Ahed (family of 8): @ahedalshaer

Vetted by Butterfly Effect and on #407 on their campaign list. Multiple family members have health issues and such. Currently we are at €7.349K/€80K VERY LOW FUNDING

Alaa (family of 5): Alaa is who messaged me on Instagram, and he is followed by those who I have already vetted, so I trust he is real. He dreamt of being a football player before the war. Currently we are at €7.205K/€22.5K LOW FUNDING

Anas (family of 10, which is him, wife, 3 children, mom, his brother and sister, SIL, and nephew): Anas took out loans in order to get his family evacuated first due to their health risks, so he is now all alone in Gaza and in desperate need to reunite with his family. We are currently at $140.716K/175.7K HALF WAY

Lina (4, baby born safely in Egypt): We just need to get Lina’s husband out since she and son were evacuated out of Gaza before baby was born. Currently at €37.952K/€47K

Ibraheem (7 people in total, which is him, parents, older brother and sister, and 2 younger sisters, one of whom is still in highschool): $97.5/$94K DONE

Ibraheem has a NEW GFM, this one is for expenses for once he and his family get to Egypt to continue their education. As of now, he is at $10.389K/$25K ALMOST HALF WAY

Madleen (4 people total, which is her, her husband, and 2 young children): As of now, they are at $55.555K/$70K HALF WAY

Deyaa and Family (him, his mother, 2 younger brothers, and sister): 15 year old Deyaa is the only member of his family who speaks English, so he is the one pleading for help evacuating his family from Gaza. On June 15th, he and his family reached their goal to evacuate and live their lives in Egypt COMPLETE

Fatma (4 people total, which is her, mom, brother and sister): we are currently at $21.517K/$40K. HALF WAY

Fadi (family of 11, which include Fadi’s 9-month old son): We are currently at $39.380K/$62.5K HALF WAY

Leen (5, which is Leen, her parents, and 2 brothers people total): the 17 year old daughter: Leen was the one who contacted me on Instagram. We are currently at $34.055K AUD/$50K AUD HALF-WAY

Lujayn (6 people total, Lyjayn, her husband, and their 4 children, one of whom needs medical care) Lujayn was the one who contacted me on Instagram, and they’re verified by Operation Olive Branch. We are currently at $97.284/$105K CLOSE TO COMPLETION

Dr. Jehad-Zedan (5 people total, which is him, wife, and 3 young daughters): They’ve been safely evacuated to Cairo now (yay!) but they still need living expense money. So we are $35.317k/$40k CLOSE TO COMPLETION

Ashraf (Him only, his wife and family is already in Egypt): He suffers injuries from an Israel attack, so he needs the funds to travel to Egypt and get medical attention in a hospital. As of now, we are at £37.388K/50K HALF WAY

Maryam (4 people total, which is her, hubby, and 2 young children): As of now, they are at €52.645K/€80K. HALF WAY

Tala: As of now, she is at €27.668K/€30K CLOSE TO COMPLETION

Islam (Family of 9) : As of now, she’s only at €54.779K/€55K CLOSE TO COMPLETION

Haya (5 people total, her, parents, and 2 siblings: Mother has Lupus/kidney failure, so medical attention is REQUIRED. $64.277K/70K CLOSE TO COMPLETION

[jadehaven]

Elrond and Galadriel S2 are not the same Elrondriel from S1.

I just started my rewatch of season 1 of ROP, and immediately my interpretation of their relationship has elaborated since the events of season 2. Warning you, this is a long post, but let’s jump in ↴

S1E01

There’s one specific line that made me realize how the distance between them over the last centuries has changed their relationship. Galadriel says to Elrond:

“Why Elrond, you really have become a politician.”

This demonstrates that before their time apart, their dynamic was different. He wasn’t always this pristine, polished and polite elf. It’s almost like he is leaning *too* much into his elven side, and he’s gotten used to using it as a front. To me, it’s almost as if Galadriel misses the human side of him, but it’s been well packed away now since she’s been gone.

My interpretation is that his human side is where his weakness for Galadriel really lies. By putting it away while she’s gone, he’s made it easier to accept that they will always be different— half elf vs full elf. She will be resilient in a way which he cannot. And, she will be leaving. It’s much easier to part with someone you deeply care for if you deny the part in you that would beg them to stay if you could.

When he says to her “What you have always been; *my friend*. It pulls us out of the moment to recognize that this is where they are now, established in their “careers” so to speak, but it is not where they’ve always been. They’ve accepted that this is as far as their relationship will go, this is the full extent of their need for each other.

“What you have always been: my friend.” is also “This is the most we will ever be in this life: friends.”

They’ve never considered anything more because they have accepted that this is where the story ends. She’s a soldier, he’s a politician. But like I said, they weren’t *always* this, and perhaps, during the time of “what you have always been* there was the fleeting, yet gleaming possibility of *more*.

The days when Elrond and Galadriel would sit under the trees, Elrond reading poetry and practicing languages. Galadriel making fun of him, and other times resting in the wake of his voice- some of the only times she truly *could* rest.

Chasing each other around the river, play fighting until one is over the other, because once there was no “pristine and polished”, there was only her half human friend. The only one who saw and understood her brashness, her grief, her misalignment.

There was Elrond, who’s hunger for knowledge allowed him to catch up with Galadriel, maturing further than she, in wisdom beyond his years. The elf who one day, instead of pining her down by the strength of his hands, put her in her place with his words.

But after everything? They’ve spent so much time apart that they forgot those versions of them even existed.

The version of them where Galadriel can recognize Elrond’s words in the High King’s speech, so much so that she turns to him only to catch him mouthing the words. A split second smile that says “I know you better than anyone else.”

By the time they reunite, only a fraction of who they were are who they are together remains. And oh, how he misses it. But wisdom would be to stay where he is, and for her to go where she needs to go. And without Galadriel, there is no reminder of his human side. There is no need of it. So he will continue on as a politician elf, and nothing more. He will finally make something of himself that is worthy to be proud of.

Except, that this is actually a *second chance* story, and it doesn’t end here.

“I’ve missed you.”

The weight in that sentence. The truth that comes forth— realize, that this is a form of grief, a grief that the human in him understands. His elven side should know that he will see her again one day in Valinor, and that all is well. But not all that is in him has been put to rest. That little bit of peredhel, the faces and words that come out only when he’s deep in the mines of a mountain, far from where the sky can see him, comes out around her.

“Galadriel! It’s Elrond!”

“Prove it.”

Prove to me that you are still you, and I am still me, and we are still who we are to each other, because being with you is the only place I truly feel safe. Prove to me that that place is not lost, that I can still come back to it.

If only it was that easy.

S2

“You were my friend!.”

Why is her betrayal so personal? Some would say my perspective is far fetched, but there has to be an explanation as to why it hits to deep. Was it that trust was broken? That she didn’t listen— but wouldn’t that affect all the elves? Why does he say this one line?

Because he’s said it to himself for centuries, and he was ready to get to stop. And now she’s back, and his peredhel is back, and he has to decide what he’s going to do if he has to spend thousands more years either at or away from her side. ‘How could you stay? Why would you make it that much harder for me? For us?’

Oh, and in the mean time, she fell for the Dark Lord. He could see the affect he had on her.

She’d rather have *Sauron himself* over her *best friend*?

I’d be pissed too.

“It was entirely of your choosing.” ‘Why do I know that? Because of course you’d choose a fighter, unlike me. Of course you’d choose a human, because you like that about me. Of course you’d choose him, when you could’ve chosen me.’

“If this friendship ever meant anything to you… then you’d leave.” Sigh. He’s so tired of being just her friend.

And that is why the tension builds. That is why it’s so personal. But even in their quarrelling, there is hope, because finally, *finally* after years and years and years apart, they are the closest they’ve been to who they were before. The “I can see right through you” type of bickering. The “You’re a pain in my ass, but also the most important person to me.” kind of love. It hurts, but I’d reckon it’s better than the Polished Politician Elf and Vengeful Warrior Princess roles they were playing whilest apart.

And so it goes, as usual in a second chance story, they have the chance to either pretend for another few thousand years that the love they have for each other can still fit squished tightly inside the little box of “friendship”, or, let the walls come down and accept that you simply cannot live without loving this person to full capacity. In this case, well… let’s just say another word for *tension* is *denial*.

Maybe, a part of Elrond realizes the truth too late. Maybe only the human side of him realizes it, but it’s just enough to put a crack in the glass. Just enough to let a little bit of love bubble out and into his hands, to reach for her face, and then into his lips, to reach for hers, before retreating again. In that moment, they’re finally where they always were meant to be. If he sees her again, he will put it right. No more tension, only truth. The glass is broken and eventually all the walls will come down, one by one— starting with saving her life, even if it means denying that “oh so sure, prestigious elven wisdom” that courses through his veins.

With everything stripped away, they’re not who they were at the beginning of season 1. But I would argue, that who they were together in season 1 was not who they really are at all. Now we finally see Galadriel, as the Lady of Light, and Elrond Peredhel. Both coming around to accept their full selves, which will in turn, perhaps, allow them to accept the love they have for each other.

Maybe after nearly losing each other 3 times, they’ll come around to the fact that their story has much more weight then they’d imagine, and thus, finally finish what Tolkien put away in a box decades ago. I guess only time will alone tell, but in that time, I’ll hold onto my hope.

Thanks for reading :)

JH

[lo-shouldve-been-an-email]

Why hello there.

Listen,I don’t have much to say about the newest LO episode so here’s an ares ranking to go along with the other ones.

Spoilers.

Percy Jackson:

6/10

Look,Ares is a really weird figure when it comes to how the media presents him.

Almost always they present him as this sexist frat boy when in mythology he is:

A reported protector of mistreated woman.

The patron god of the amazons and was worshipped to the point that their leader had 2 babies with him.

Scored the GODDESS PF LOVE AND BEAUTY and there is no way you cannot convince me she doesn’t have some pretty high standards(even though apparently you can convince most of the writers on this list)

And as much as I love Percy Jackson,it is not devoid of crimes.

In the first book,he helps Luke/Kronos steal Zeus’ master bolt and Hades’ helm of invisibility as to start a civil war within the gods.id say this is a pretty good portrayal overall.

…until we get to the second book.

This myth will be very important so long story short:a daughter of ares got r*** by a son of Poseidon so Ares,like any reasonable and bloodthirsty god of war,fucking killed him.

After this,he got put on trial for murder as if he wasn’t the literal god of bloody war,and all the ladies vouched for him so he got set free.

Let’s just say,Rick Riordan didn’t know of this myth.

In the second book,there’s a scene where Clarisse La Rue,a DAUGHTER of ares talks to him through a magic mirror.

There,he threatens her and says he should have sent one of his sons on the quest.and keep in mind she is his FAVORITE DAUGHTER.

So yeah.

I don’t really like this portrayal but he gets points for bringing Clarisse and (technically)Frank into this world since I like them both.also the fact that Percy could tell he had beef with him even without having any other memory.

Lore Olympus:

1/10

FUCK THIS GUY

Remember when I said that modern Ares was more often than not a sexist frat boy?we’ll add “predator” and “Reddit nice guy” to that list because RS can’t write.

If in Percy Jackson Aphrodite had terrible standards here said standards are so much worse.

He spends MONTHS trying to seduce a 19-YEAR-OLD and then tries to marry her without her consent.

Also,sir,YOU HAVE THE GODDESS OF LOVE AND BEAUTY FULLY AT YOUR DISPOSAL AND YOURE PICKING A GURL WHO DOESNT EVEN KNOW HIW TO USE A COMPUTER????

Great.this guy is a predator,Reddit nice guy,AND stupid.

I remember saying that the only character who could get a lowers rating than LO Persephone being LO hades and then I remembered this fuck existed.

Fuck him.

Hades:

10/10

Your know when you see something and then immediately want to wash your eyes with soap?this is my soap.

He is my third favorite Olympian in the game,coming third to Hermes and Artemis.

So here’s a few reasons why I like him:

Doom anything with impending doom and the increasing doom damage boon does absurd amounts of damage.

Curse of nausea is one of the best duos in the game.

He respects woman.(oh look they finally Aphrodite standards)

His quest is stupidly easy and he was the first Olympian who’s bond I maxed out.

I know this joke has been made so many times but.he really is a Chthonic simp.

He doesn’t get too pissed if you don’t pick him is trial of gods.hes just here for the bloodshed.

It may be just the fact that almost every other interpretation of ares is bad,but I really like him.

Also Aphrodite wearing his face paint in hades 2-

OSP:

7/10

He’s cool.

I really don’t have much else to add except the helmet stays on during sex.

Gods school:

5/10

Welp Back to the incels-

Him straight up telling Aphrodite that he can do whatever he wants because she won’t leave is just.why.

I don’t get why people go to this myth,turn it around,and act as if they’ve done a service by making Ares miserable when in the myths it was already a good ending.

What is with the obsession with making ares a toxic ex boyfriend when in the myths him and ‘dite were literally love and war.

Another issue I have with gods school is the fact they made Aphrodite a Karen Smith when in the myths shes a Regina George but that’s a problem for the Aphrodite ranking.

Also I just realized the Aphrodite Hephaestus ares myth is the og “I fell in love with a bad boy story”-

Epic:the musical:

8/10

I don’t have a physical picture of him but I already like him.

The only time he he appears is during a bit of an unfinished song but he does bring up some pretty good points,like the Scylla thing.

Also the fact Athena didn’t directly refute any of his points but instead persuaded him with the fact that the moment Ody gets home the suitors are going to be fucked is surprisingly great.

Also can I just say how absolutely hyped I am for god games?Aphrodite’s part fucking rocks and I’m excited for Apollo and Hephaestus.

Also here’s my ranking for epic Hermes since I wasn’t part of the fandom back then:

10/10

*insert dolphin laugh here*

[jimhines]

2022 Writing Income

It’s that time again – for fifteen years now I’ve been writing an annual blog post about my income as a writer. Money tends to be an uncomfortable, even taboo topic, but I think it’s important to help counter the myths that we’re all multimillionaires living in Glass Onion-style mansions. (Side note: If anyone wants to pay millions of dollars for my book, I’ll happily update this blog post from my private island mansion.)

Remember, every writer’s career is different, and I’m only one data point.

Prior Years: Here are the annual write-ups going back to 2007: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021.

In 2016, instead of a personal income write-up, I did a survey of almost 400 novelists about their income.

My Background: I’m a primarily “traditionally published,” U.S.-based SF/F author with 15 books in print from major New York publishers. The first of those books came out from DAW in 2006. I have an agent, and have been with them since about 2004.

I’ve self-published a middle grade fantasy and a few short collections. I’ve also sold about 50 short stories to different magazines and anthologies.

I’ve never hit the NYT or USA Today bestseller lists.

I’m currently the sole parent of a teenager (at home) and a 22-year-old (at college). I have a day job that’s just over half-time, both for the paycheck and the benefits.

2022 in Summary: There’s no gentle way to say this. The last several years have kind of sucked. Losing my wife to cancer in 2019 completely derailed my writing. I was hoping 2022 would be a comeback year, but life had other plans…

I did write and sell two new short stories and one nonfiction piece, which was nice. I’ve got a finished middle grade book that’s been on submission for a while. I finished a standalone fantasy that’s been sitting with my publisher for a while.

Normally, my editor is pretty quick about responding, but last year wasn’t normal for DAW, either. DAW was acquired by Astra House. A lot of their time and energy went into that deal. I’m hoping for the best, but things still haven’t settled into the new “normal.”

Last year did see the release — finally — of Terminal Peace, the third book in the Janitors of the Post-Apocalypse series. I’m thrilled and relieved to see that book in print, but it came out right in the middle of the Astra House acquisition, which may have impacted things like promotion and publicity.

I also finished the first draft and started revising a new standalone middle grade fantasy with series potential.

2022 Income: The biggest check was the publication payment for Terminal Peace. All total, before taxes and various expenses, the writing brought in $13,957.16. While that’s absolutely nothing to sneer at, and I’m grateful for the success, it’s also a dropoff from the past couple of years. To be blunt, if you look at the cumulative graph, things have been slumping a bit.

Income Breakdown:

Patreon has been a small but steady and helpful source of income. My thanks to everyone for that!

As usual, my U.S. novels are the biggest piece of the pie. The short fiction category is a bit higher this year, thanks to those two new stories. I didn’t self-publish anything new in 2022, but if that middle grade book doesn’t sell, I’d like to publish that one later this year.

Novels (U.S. editions): $8,542.83

Novels (Non-U.S. editions): $473.25

Self-Published: $1158.24

Short fiction: $892.86

Audio: $521.04

Patreon: $1668.94

Other: $700

I mentioned earlier that things have been in a bit of a slump, and I need to focus on breaking out of that. Some things I can’t currently control. Tomorrow I could wake up to an offer from DAW on the book they’ve got, and maybe an email from my agent that the middle grade title he’s been shopping around went to auction and got a six-figure advance. But I can’t make these things happen.

Priority #1 is to keep writing. If I’m not doing that, other goals are pretty much moot.

Priority #2 is to figure out some alternate options. It may be time to put more time and effort into self-publishing as a complement to my traditionally published work.

The biggest thing making me anxious is that I’m pretty much out of contract. The paperback of Terminal Peace comes out this year, but for the first time in about 15 years, I don’t have the security, the luxury, or the deadlines of a signed contract. In some ways, this is freeing: I can write whatever I want. But there’s no guarantee as to when things will see print. Submitting to the traditional publishers is a long, slow process…

From talking to other writers who’ve been doing this a while, I’ve learned that pretty much every career has its ups and downs. Personal, pandemic, and publisher issues have been a bit of a perfect storm for me these past few years, but I’m not going anywhere. After 27 years as a writer, I’m excited to see what comes next.

Wrap Up:

I hope this has been helpful. As always, feel free to share the post and/or ask questions.

[starlightseraph]

love to the brave antis!

i’m being so serious rn when i say that if you’re part of the rpf circle (and that specific one) then please get the fuck away from me and my asks and my posts.

i spent a while hate-reading and rubbernecking, but i was strong enough to block all the major players and i’ve almost entirely kept them blocked. if my inbox last time i mentioned this was anything to go by, clearly some of y’all couldn’t do the same to me.

if you’re in the good omens/staged fandom or a fan of david tennant and michael sheen and somehow aren’t aware, there are a bunch of disgusting blogs that have been spewing hatred and conspiracy theories, for years in some cases. these include but are not limited to: that georgia tennant and anna lundberg baby trapped the guys (with like every kid they’ve had, because david and michael have clearly been on the edge of leaving them so many times), that georgia is repeatedly raping david (???), that she’s abusing him and he’s afraid of her, that david and georgia’s kids hate georgia because they recognise the abuse and are disgusted by it, that anna is some maniacal villain who always planned to trap an established actor because she can’t do anything, that she hates michael, that david and michael are in a sexual and romantic relationship, that they they want to leave their partners for each other, that they already have left their partners in secret, that david and georgia have gotten divorced and are living apart, that georgia’s dad set up her and david on purpose (outside of his influence in getting her the role that they met on), that georgia and anna send coded messages to each other and to followers with the songs they use on instagram stories, that georgia was a criminal-level stalker who baby-reindeer’d david into marrying her, that the four of them have a pr firm that’s orchestrating every flick of their eyes but that this firm is failing miserably by telling them to turn down the heat between david and michael while forcing them to drag georgia and anna along wihh them, and that anyone who doesn’t agree with these rpf blogs is homophobic and wilfully ignorant.

they send death threats to and dox people who dare to say anything against them, i’ve gotten threats myself. @dtmsrpfcringe has gotten wishes of ill on her children and she’s been told that her family doesn’t exist and she’s making them up or is delusional. i myself got death threats and a bunch of abuse on anon for my relatively tame posts on this shit. i was fairly early to the game, i think my first post on the situation was 10ish months ago, and they have radicalised more and more since then. i’m not up to date on their latest insanity— i’ve had them blocked for a long while for my own mental health— but i’m not gonna let the brave people behind the aforementioned blog and others get absolutely vile messages without saying anything.

now i wanna make myself very clear: rpf is fine! real person fiction is fine! i personally don’t like it, but i have no ethical objections as to why others shouldn’t. using the names and likenesses of real people for fun and silly little stories on ao3 is totally ok. but it crosses a line when y’all present the stories as an “investigation” or claim that they’re objective reality. some of the followers of these blogs have admitted to messaging georgia and anna directly about this, and there have also been a few comments on their instagrams that seem fuelled by this stuff, proving that their claims of staying quietly on their own corner of the internet are bullshit.

if anyone’s interested, my old posts on the matter are here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. they’re all months old and quite out of date by now, as i’ve been pretty good at keeping the blogs blocked, but i do think they include some well-written points (much better than this post lol, i just woke up). something has changed though; i say in one of the posts that i’d have no problem with the theories being true, but the blogs have since begun more proudly displaying some truly insane accusations, which i would absolutely have a huge fucking problem with.

anyways. most of the new stuff i’ve seen comes from tori and co, see dtmsrpfcringe and the council (lol) for more, if you want to see a bunch of wonderful people fighting a shit show to protect the fandom.

[johnwickb1tsch]

you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) Part 4

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4.

When the night of your art show comes, you do not expect to see John Wick in the crowd. You had not heard from him since that night when he gave you the orgasm of your life, then disappeared from your apartment like he’d only ever been a dark dream.

Though your panties had disappeared too, and you strongly suspect he’d taken them with him.

The gallery is packed this night. It’s a group show, and you’re hardly the main act, but it’s a huge stepping stone for you as an artist. Gallery X is nothing to turn one’s nose up at, and you dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, things might get going from here. The art world is just as much politics as it is producing work, and you were never good at that part of it all.

Helen was, bless. She presented strong work, but she also knew how to read a room, and whose hand to shake, and how to tell someone to go to Hell with a polite smile. You know that her final gift to you was the cachet of her name in a collaboration, and maybe, just maybe, if you play your cards just fucking right, this could be your break.

You recognize the faces of people with big names in the art world here tonight. Critics, museum curators, journalists, and collectors. They’ve all come out to play, and your heart has not slowed its frantic pace in your chest for the past hour since opening.

You snag a glass of champagne from a passing tray, even though you hate the stuff, and that is when you see him through the crowd. He’s across the room, tall and forbidding in a dark suit, his long hair framing his angular face. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze upon you, through the crush of all these people. For a moment, time stands still, as your eyes meet his.

You have thought of him a thousand times since the night he left you sated yet ravenous in your bed. A hot flush blooms across your skin, a spear of desire shooting straight to your loins as you remember what he did to you with that perfect mouth, and those big hands, and those soulful eyes. God, but you would have given him anything, after one look from those yearning dark eyes.

He is dressed well, but he doesn’t exactly look well. There is an edge to his stare; an intensity.

A hunger.

An agonizing thrill runs down your spine; for a moment you have to look away. It’s just too much.

By the time you turn back, he is gone.

You continue to mingle, chatting with your friends and acquaintances, sipping some of the bubbly to try to calm your nerves. It doesn’t work; you feel as though you have a live wire under your skin, a thousand volts of raw emotion running rampant through your veins.

It would have been easier, had it only been lust, or even just pity. But there was something more to it, something substantial and heady and warm, and that made it a much harder beast to slay.

You slowly make your way around to look at the other pieces. It’s the polite thing to do, and interesting too. The theme of the show is Loss. Perfectly broad, and the subjects of the works vary wildly.

In front of a massive encaustic abstract a low voice in your ear stops you in your tracks. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

You turn your head slightly to find John standing ever so near, so close you can feel the warmth of the solid line of his body behind you. The room is packed and it’s almost necessary to stand this close just to be heard, but still, you get a dark thrill out of it.

“Oh?”

“I feel like I took advantage of you, last we met. I am sorry.”

You turn to face him, standing close enough to kiss. Thanks to the heels you’re wearing, you don’t have to crane your neck too far to look him in the eye.

“Actually, I was kind of thinking I took advantage of you.”

This clearly surprises him, his eyebrows rising. Ah, this dear, sweet, man. You didn’t take him for being naïve, but he is a little older, and the claws of traditional gender roles cling hard and deep.  

“Helen wanted me to look after you, and I—”

“Gave me the most incredible pleasure of my life? Yeah, it was pretty terrible. You’re a selfish beast.”

He blinks at you, clearly stunned. Then his eyes narrow, the hunger from before sharpening to a cutting edge, and a scintillating thrill runs down your spine. You cannot shake the feeling that you’ve just pulled the tail of a tiger; a predator both magnificent and deadly. Mostly it’s excitement; but just the slightest hint might be fear. There is something brimming below the surface of this man that you know you don’t entirely understand. You aren’t sure yet if it is passion, or violence—or maybe a combination of the two. You wonder if Helen ever got to see behind the mask.

Somehow, you are certain she did, and she had not run from him. Perhaps that is what makes you brave tonight.

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

“Helen was the tactful one.” 

“I actually found her refreshingly direct.” 

“But I'm just abrasive. I've been told, believe me. It's because I don't apologize before I tell men what I really think.”

“I don't want your apologies.”

“Either way... I'm a big girl, John. You don't have to be the responsible adult between us.”

The corner of his mouth ticks at that. 

“I feel like I should at least try.”

You shrug, unable to stop yourself from fingering his tie, fighting the urge to wrap your fist in it and pull him to you again. You’ve missed him, and standing this close, what you really want to do is climb him like a tree, and the crowd be damned. “Suit yourself.” You force yourself to stop touching him, although he didn’t seem to mind, or intend to stop you. You sigh deeply, warring with yourself as ever.

This is all so very fucked.

Maybe the truth is the best way to go.

“I like you, John. Maybe I’m just lying to myself, thinking Helen wouldn’t be pissed, but…maybe she’d be happy we’ve found each other.”

You dare to look him in the eyes, and once again, he looks as though he is drowning.

Fuck. You have to go.

You force yourself to step away from him, because your skin feels like its on fire. “We’re all going to Bar Rosé later to celebrate. You’re welcome to come, if you want.”

You retreat to greet a friend who’d come all the way to Manhattan from upstate to support you, and you can feel John’s eyes boring into you as you walk away.

For the rest of the opening you follow him out the corner of your eye. As though he's a magnet, you simply cannot help it. You are achingly aware of his presence, even if it's from across the room. 

He pauses before your piece of Helen for a very long time, letting the crowd mill around him like a rock in a stream. It’s heartbreaking, really, the way he stands there before her, transfixed. A part of you wants to go take his hand, support him in what you know is yet another painful moment for him. But in the end, you decide to let him process it alone. A little later, you notice him talking to the gallery owner. Chummily, almost like they know each other. Of course, Carol Banning had known Helen, so perhaps you shouldn’t be so surprised. 

When the evening is winding down John Wick is nowhere to be found. You're a little disappointed, and a little bit relieved. You're not sure what you think you're playing at, but deep down, you know it's so fucking twisted. 

You meet with your comrades from the show, some artists you knew before, and some new acquaintances too. You hail a van cab to go a few blocks to Rosé. Tonight was a success. Someone bought your painting for a massive amount of money. More than you’d ever dreamed you could charge for a piece of your soul put down on canvas with paint. Carol had assured you it was appropriate, and you guessed she knew her clientele. A part of you was distressed to part with the piece you’d created with blood and tears and Helen’s art, and a part of you was relieved to let it go. You completed the cycle. You were sending Helen out into the world, where she would be remembered, and celebrated, for the remarkable woman she was.

It should have felt like victory, but in truth it was bittersweet.

You are 98 percent sure you don't let it show. Your friends are giddy with the success of the exhibition, and the last thing you want is to bring them down. You are too, truth be told. You were interviewed by not one, but two journalists this evening. One who even worked for the Times. Maybe it’s just curiosity about Helen Morgan-Wick’s baby sister, but…Helen would have told you to stop overthinking and enjoy it.

So perhaps, you will.

True to its name, the neon lights that accent the room at Rosé are pink. The glassware is too. You’re sure it’s a play on seeing the world through rose tinted glasses…but the drinks are strong, and the ambiance is fun. After a round your friends want to dance. You agree, and the four of you have a great time until you pick up a bogey. A man keeps trying to dance up on you, not getting the hint when you sidle away, not engaging with him whatsoever. Finally, you get tired of dodging him, and decide to get another drink. He follows you, leaning on the bar while you wait for the bartender’s attention. “I'm Sasha,” he says in thickly accented English, looking you up and down. He’s not bad looking at all, but there is something in the way he looks at you that makes you uneasy.

“Hi,” you answer, not keen to give him your name.

“You come here often?”

“Not really.”

“What are you celebrating tonight?”

“Who said we're celebrating?”

Had this pushy creep overheard you? Had he followed you from the gallery?

Another voice cuts in from behind you, a string of Russian that almost sounds like a command.

Your unwelcome suitor frowns, answering in the same language. 

You turn your head to find John standing close behind you. You hadn’t noticed him come in; it’s as though he materialized from the shadows. When he puts a hand on your waist you do not flinch, hoping the other guy will get the picture. He frowns, looking between you. He says something quick over your head, and the only word you catch is blyad.

 You’re pretty sure it means fuck.

There is a heavy moment rife with tension between the two men with you stuck in the middle, before the Russian makes a hissing sound between his teeth and goes. He doesn’t just go to the other side of the bar, however. He leaves the premises, slinking out the door, and you turn to look at your savior.

“Wow. What did you say to him?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you know him?”

“Hmm. Sort of. From work.”

You tilt your head, staring up at him. He hasn’t removed his large hand from your hip, and even though its possessive and maybe it should bother you, you revel in his touch. You’re not usually one to get off on men fighting over you, but it’s hard not to feel a little glow of primal satisfaction at the exchange. It makes you feel bold, and maybe you run your mouth a little. “Yeah? So did Helen know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re an ex mafioso?”

You’re 99 percent sure you’re making a joke, but from the sharp way he looks at you, a trill of warning rolls down your spine. He leans down to speak in your ear, “You have quite the imagination, young lady.”

That warmth in your chest descends to pool between your thighs.

The bartender saves you from digging this hole even deeper.

“What can I get you, Mr. Wick?”

“Blanton’s on the rocks,” John answers, then looks to you.

“Vodka martini, please,” you answer.

“We have Smirnoff, Absolut, Grey Goose, Stoli…”

Before you can answer that Smirnoff is fine John answers, “Stoli.”

You raise an eyebrow at him as the bartender goes to pour your drinks. “Thanks.”

“Life is too short to drink bad vodka.”

You huff a laugh at that. “So, do you know every bartender in New York, or…”

“Probably just in Manhattan,” he jokes with a ghost of a smile.

You turn so that you are facing him completely. You have to stand close to hear each other, you reason. It has nothing to do with the fact that this man draws you like you are an asteroid caught in his gravity. If you collide…you have no doubt you’ll burn to pieces.

“Congratulations, on tonight,” he says, and you believe he means it. “Helen would be proud.”

“Thanks. Feels surreal, to be honest.”

“That’s fair.”

You find yourself looking at his tie again, fighting the urge to use it to tug him closer. My, but you are becoming a needy creature in this man’s presence. You have to remind yourself that you do not, in fact, know him that well. Even if it feels like…he could have always been yours. “It’s nice to see you again,” you dare venture, looking up from beneath your lashes.

“Likewise.” He touches you lightly, just below your chin. Your eyes meet, and you feel pinned by those dark orbs, somehow certain he can see right through you,

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…are you okay?” Like on Helen’s birthday, you imagine tonight must have dredged up plenty of emotions that just maybe this poor man would like to bury once and for all.

“I guess I deserve that, after how I behaved.” He is, undoubtedly, referring to the way he fled your apartment a month ago.

“I’m not mad, I just…genuinely want to know.”

He bites his lip as he’s thinking, and its all you can do just to watch him, wishing it was you with his lip between your teeth instead. Finally he answers, “I am as okay as it is possible for me to be.”

It is the most non-answer you’ve ever heard.

Sensing your dissatisfaction with this pointed evasion, he digs a little deeper, leaning in so that his words are only for you. “I didn’t exactly lead a happy life, before Helen. After she passed…I was certain I would never want anyone ever again. You kind of threw a wrench into that.”

“Sorry.”

He gives a little huff of self-deprecating laughter. “Don’t be. I…I like you, y/n. Please, forgive me, for…everything.”

You don’t believe he’s telling you all this to win sympathy, or using it as a line, like so many men would. It’s just facts, and you are moved to the bottom of your soul. Somehow you know that this is not something this man would casually admit to just anyone. “John…” With your heart in your throat you find yourself reaching for him, touching his fingertips with yours on the bar. “It’s ok. You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me anything.”

He tilts his head to look at you, his dark hair swinging into his face. You feel bold enough to reach out, brushing it behind his ear. His eyes close at your touch for the barest moment. It’s so easy to forget that you are in a crowded public venue, with him near. “I owe you my gratitude, at the very least.”

You shake your head, prepared to deny it, but then your drinks arrive, and the moment is somewhat shattered. “Want to sit with us?” you ask, indicating your merry band of artist misfits with your chin. He nods, following you, though his hand has found that place at the small of your back again that warms your blood to an agonizingly slow simmer. Carol has joined you, and you wonder if John will feel awkward, fraternizing here in unspecific but obviously friendly capacity with his sister in law.

Yikes. You do not like it, when you think of it that way.

However, Carol Banning is a veteran of the New York art scene, and she has seen much worse scandals than this. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash, greeting him warmly from behind her large black-rimmed glasses. They chat more about the show, and the state of the art world. Carol mourns that no photographers currently working quite have an eye like Helen did. Then she points a crimson painted claw your way, surprising you. “But this young lady. She’s going to do some interesting things, I have a feeling.”

John salutes you with his dwindling glass of amber liquid, a smirk on his lips you don’t entirely know how to read. “I have no doubts.”

After you finish your drink you find you are ready to go. It’s been a long day, and a big night. Tonight, you fulfilled Helen’s dying wish for you, and somehow you feel simultaneously accomplished and sore to the bone.

“Can I drive you home?” asks John quietly in your ear. It sends a bolt of heat straight to your center, warmth pooling in your loins as you remember what happened last time he made such an offer. You look at him, wondering if he wants an encore, or if he just wants to see you home safe. His face in that moment is so handsome it hurts, but utterly unreadable to you.

“Sure,” you answer, sensing that somehow you’ve just signed your fate over to him with your name on the dotted line.

You hit the street, the cool night air a relief after the close press of the bar. John offers you his left arm, and you take it gladly, leaning on his shoulder a little more than you really need to. Part of it is that last martini with what had been truly excellent vodka—and part of it was just a need to be close to him. A part of you thought you’d never see him again. The fact that he is here, solid in the flesh and you can touch him, kind of blows your mind.

“I’m not parked far,” he assures you, and you nod with a sleepy smile. At the end of the block you see his car parked on the street. It’s a little menacing, you think to yourself, looking at the dark paintjob and the sleek lines. Definitely a car designed to be a predator of the road; something that will run you down and eat you, no matter how fast you try to run.

As you near the vehicle three shadows separate themselves from an alley. John freezes in his tracks, pushing you behind him. You recognize the guy from earlier, Sasha, who is flanked by two intimidating henchmen. He speaks to John again in Russian, and John replies in kind. It pisses you off that you don’t know what’s being said.

“Speak English,” you demand, half-stepping out from behind John.

A low chuckle runs through the men before you that makes your blood run cold. “I said,” enunciates Sasha slowly, “That if he hands you over now I’ll let you both live. He’ll just have to watch as I fuck you like the whore you are.”

“Nice. Very original, fuck head.”

His self-satisfaction morphs to anger. You are scared, but you’re not showing it like you should, and it’s ruining his fun. You use John’s body to shield the fact that you are dipping into your purse for your pepper spray. Why the fuck can’t you ever find anything in your purse when you need it?

What comes next happens so fast you almost can’t register it. One of the toughs made the first move forward, but John is like a hurricane upon them, deflecting strikes and breaking arms, punching one guy in the throat and kicking another in the gut. He throws one with some kind of complicated grapple and flip ninja shit before hitting the other again in the knees. In the blink of an eye two of them are down on the ground, leaving John to take on Sasha, who has drawn a knife. You see that one of the grounded henchmen is fishing behind his back for something. Without thinking you surge forward, knowing it’s a matter of life and death. As his hand raises with the gun you goalie-kick it from his hand, dousing his face with mace.

“Motherfucker!”

The gun goes off before it skitters across the street and under a parked car. He howls with agony, clutching his face, trying to wipe the concentrated capsaicin out of his eyes. In the next moment there is an arm around your waist, pulling you towards the parked cars. You are so caught up in the adrenaline rush that you react without looking, but John catches your hand with the mace, keeping it pointed away from the both of you. “It’s me,” he says, taking the tube and slipping it into his pocket like he doesn’t trust you not to let loose again. “You did good, honey. Come on.”

As he is bundling you into the passenger seat of his car you look back to see Sasha is writhing on the sidewalk with his knife in his leg, shouting what undoubtedly are expletives in Russian. You vaguely wonder if he might bleed to death as the Mustang rumbles to life and you roar away.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, trembling with adrenaline and you guess, a bit of shock. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Are you hurt?” he asks, deeming it the more pertinent question.

“No. I’m…fine,” you say, looking down at yourself. “Jesus, are you hurt?” You look over at him to see that he is bleeding from a cut on his brow. “Oh my god, let me see.” You reach for him but he holds up a hand. “I’m fine, believe me.”

You catch one more glimpse of the wreckage behind you as he makes a right turn, downshifting. The car surges forward, pressing you back into the seat.

“You totally laid those guys out!”

“Yeah.” You study him from the passenger’s seat, his hard expression highlighted by the passing headlights. His jaw is clenched so tight you think he might crack his teeth. “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

You think about the three guys he leveled out like a human tornado.

“You've got some moves, Mr. Wick.”

He just sighs, sounding so very tired.

“Yeah.”

“Should we…call the cops?”

He looks over at you like you should know the answer to that question, but shit, this is the most violence you’ve seen up close in your entire life. Finally, he just shakes his head, seeming a decade older in that moment. “It wouldn’t do any good,” he assures you.

Except, maybe get him arrested, you reason. Because even though it had been self-defense…the carnage he’d left behind was unreal.  

“Helen said you used to work in security?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He huffs a laugh at that. “Hardly.”

“I still don’t fucking get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why…this even happened? Men don’t exactly brawl on the street over me.” For Helen? Maybe, more likely, but not you, the boho weirdo who is lucky enough to kind of resemble your model-beautiful older sister, but will never be half as lovely or charming. You suspect there is some other reason this went sideways, that has more to do with John’s professional life before he retired from security.

That job description is holding less and less water the more you think on it. Helen was always super cagey in talking about what John Wick did for a living. You’re starting to get a better idea as to why that might have been.  

John surprises you when he holds out his hand to you across the center console. “I would fight an army for you,” he tells you softly, and goddamn if you don’t believe him. You take his hand, comforted by the strength in the long fingers wrapped around yours. You only let go in between him shifting gears, and you don’t really say anything else until you pull up in front of your building.

“Come on,” you say, swinging open the heavy door of the sportscar. “I’ll take care of you.” The look he pays you is somehow both raw and predatory. A thrill of anticipation runs down your spine, because at this point you’ve lost your mind, and you don’t have the sense to be afraid.

<<PART 3 PART 5>>

[alchemie-tarot]

Cold Moon Pick-A-Card: What is Coming To A Close In Your Life?

Here’s to the last full moon of 2022. She invites us to look back on everything that transpired this year, especially the events that had us face our shadows. Transformation can often take place in darkness. Know that it gets brighter from here. ✨🌕✨

Feel free to choose the pile/s that call out to you. Some details may not resonate with you since this is a general reading. As always, nothing is set in stone, so please don’t take it too seriously.

Extra: The Justice card was at the back of the deck before I started shuffling. When I was still warming up, shuffling without intention, Justice dropped from the deck. She is a general theme for the piles of this reading. She has our backs.

Extra (2): Featuring my photographic attempts to capture Miss Mama Moon.

Pile 1

Cards: King of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles

Right away I see that this is about your work, or something you’re putting a lot of effort into. You’ve established yourself in this place, but lately it feels rigid, like there’s hardly any room to breathe. “No freedom” came to me quite strongly. This could be a lucrative pursuit you have lost your passion for. For others, it could also be something you pursued for the sake of financial stability and security, but now you feel that it’s time to move on to something you genuinely like and flourish in. 

There seem to be voices in your head pulling you in different directions, arguing with each other. For most, though, I feel that it’s more so from your surroundings that are affecting you than your thoughts. Has someone been disrupting your space lately? They seem to be driven by self-interest. Your environment could be tense and filled with clashing egos, or some of your peers are threatened by your power. Either way, they just mess up your vibe.

Take a deep breath, Pile 1. I see that whether you decide to stay or to choose another path, you’re in for a breath of fresh air. This crowd will close its chapter in your life, and new connections will come in. They will be nothing like your previous or current peers. Collaboration is valued at a spiritual level. They will see you as someone to invest in, and you will mirror this view towards them. 

They could be older or more experienced in the field that you choose. In fact, you’re likely to find a mentor in them. They will bring you to places you haven’t been, I feel. It’s really up to you where.

This is the speediest and most straightforward interpretation I’ve ever done for a pile so far. I feel like you will realize quickly when these people come around, or they will approach you right away.

===

Pile 2

Cards: 9 of Swords, King of Pentacles, The Fool

Are you having a hard time getting some good sleep lately? Something seems to be keeping you awake or has been giving you unpleasant dreams. I could sense an almost tangible anxiety around this trauma. I believe it’s related to money or something material that’s important to your security. 

Some of you may have been carrying a responsibility like this on your shoulders quite early on in your life, and it has taken its toll on you. For a few, I feel the energy of someone stern who may hold some power over you in your career or, again, in relation to money. It’s like they’ve been blocking you from getting any kind of breather.

Putting my arm around you, Pile 2. These things are not easy to navigate at all. I hope I can ease your worries somehow, since this reading is about things in your life that are coming to an end. 

The big break you’ve been waiting for is not so far from your horizon. It will feel like the brightest of new beginnings. Seriously, you’re moving from the bleak darkness of worry that never seemed to end, and into broad daylight where you can see the land across you for miles. Your burdens would be made light and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, you’ll be able to throw your cares in the air and think about yourself. 

I feel the need to add: when I shuffled for this pile, the first card deliberately slipped out of the deck without falling. It took me a few seconds to decide if I was going to get it. The same happened with the rest of the cards. I felt unsure even in the order I was going to lay them on. This new beginning may unfold slowly and you may find yourself going from hopeful to fearful, back and forth, worrying if things are on the right track.

Please take it easy on yourself and know that it’s normal to have moments of doubt especially after you’ve been through a heavy situation. Every little glimmer of hope contributes to the new foundation you’re making. You will get there. 

When you do, you will feel like a child. What felt like years of torment will gradually return to you in the form of healing. Instead of a mountain to climb, your next step will feel like the start of an adventure.

===

Pile 3

Cards: 2 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords

Okay, I feel like you have already got a lot of abundance in your hands. I see that you’re quite gratified within a relationship or a kind of partnership that’s close to your heart. You’re busy with projects you enjoy working on, with people who admire and trust your abilities in your team. You’re surrounded by energies who lift you up and encourage you to be productive.

Not gonna lie, this is not the kind of scenario I expected to see in a reading about something coming to a close in your life. These three cards came all together and I had a distinct sense to order them this way. I was dumbfounded at first glance. At the same time, I don’t feel like it necessarily means that your auspicious situation will come to an end. Fortunately, the third card explains what’s on its way to you.

The Knight of Swords is all about independence. There is an opportunity for you to experience going solo. It’s more of putting some distance between you and your tribe in order to be in your own space for a while, rather than cutting ties with them.

A swift change seems to be on the way that needs you to be quick on your feet. An emphasis for you to make your own decisions. Maybe you’ve been relying a bit too much on your circle? Yes, they make you feel safe, but there’s a sense of being oblivious to the consequences of certain actions when you’re only taking account of the blissful feelings.

Again, I don’t necessarily think that what brings you joy is about to be stripped from you. This may just be a way to test your tenacity and dedication about something. It involves a lot of your inner strength. You may come face to face with your priorities. Regardless, only you can say what is meant for you deep down. Hold on to that.

===

Pile 4

Cards: 6 of Wands, 6 of Pentacles, 10 of Wands Rx, 10 of Cups

An extra card jumped out. What are the odds that a pair of Sixes and then a pair of Tens came out? That’s pretty cool.

Being generous comes naturally to you. You share what you can to people in need and these people really look up to you. This admiration makes you feel good about yourself and you take pride in being able to help others. It’s like a part of your identity now and because of that, you may think you have peaked at this position. There’s a feeling of wanting to give and give on behalf of everybody. Because of the little attention you genuinely turn to yourself, you may be on the brink of burnout without knowing it. You could even be denying it.

You’re not solely a giver, Pile 4. There is no need for you to prove this about yourself over and over. We already know it. You need to refocus because I feel like you’re having a problem disengaging from this role. If you persist in this mindset, it will end up doing more harm than good. It’s safe for you to express how you truly feel. It’s okay to acknowledge that you need support, too.

All the noble deeds you have done will return to you tenfold. True, stable, and long-term harmony in all fields awaits you. You care so much for others, but now you need to be open to receive. The people you have lent a hand to would happily return the favour. Letting this go will help your innate abundance spread more evenly to everyone– and yes, that includes you, too. You deserve it most of all.

===

Thank you for taking the time to interact with this reading. Feel free to share and let me know how you found it, if it resonated or not, etc. Don’t be shy to send me feedback or details about it, if you’d like. I would really appreciate it!

Take care always! ✨🌕✨