#and none of these people owe us the truth!
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I think I figured who you mean and I gotta agree their takes are wild (if it's not the same person than some more people need to touch some grass)
The delusions are fun as long as we all stay aware that we simply do not know the reality of any of their private lives. Miles, Alex, Louise, every celebrity curates their public persona.
+ the biphobia is nasty, so here's some pride 🩷💜💙 🩷💜💙
idk if it's the same person but i think it might be. anyway enough talking about that. bisexuality is one of the most beautiful things to ever exist actually 💖💜💙
#and yes agreed that at the end of the day everything we theorise is - indeed - just that. theories#speculation that we have no way of knowing is real or not#and none of these people owe us the truth!#so speculate all you want about people's sexualities as long as it's just in fandom spaces and you're aware it's mostly for fun#also be aware of your own delusions#embrace the delusions. being delusional is fun. just don't be a biphobic/homophobic bitch about it#anyway anon thanks for the positive pride vibes 🫶#answered
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Completely disillusioned by life via the radical self-realization of my own existence as it deviates from the preconceived delusions of my self-importance in a manner most befitting of a true apostate.
#aka your bitch be weeping on the reg#cause life is difficult and any fundamental truth thrust upon us is nothing more than society's own mean of making sense of the world#your knowledge of the way the world works does in part come from media#not all media is trying to trick you but too much media is fundamentally flawed by human's inherent need to make sense of the nonsensical#and to bring order where there is none#while there are patterns nearly everywhere even below chaos at a fundamental level#these “fundamental truths” are neither fundamental nor truths#life is not fair#rules will not be followed#the good do not get their gots#people will suffer and die#you are not owed happiness#life does not sway good#bad things will happen to good people#you will die#you will be forgotten#there is no meaning#rational thought often tends towards irrational
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The urge to flee somewhere no one knows you and start all over again
#my ramblings#my walls have been vibrating with They Know Too Much lately#people have been telling others things about me that technically aren’t secret#but it sets my teeth on edge trying not to growl that it’s none of their business#(admittedly a boundary i never had growing up and still don’t really know how to use)#and answering questions with ‘i’m fine’ only to get ‘i doubt that’ it’s my lie to tell i don’t owe you the truth#i know we’re friends i guess but i get to decide how much i tell about my life#especially when telling people things has had … less than great results#‘i’m touch avoidant but the hugs/etc you’ve been doing are fine’ does not mean poke my shoulder repeatedly to try and get a reaction#‘if you throw that (food) towards me i will flinch’ does not mean test that by pelting me with little plastic poker chips#saying something normal about my pain level and getting ‘poor little uwu’ and a fucking hug as if i’m not a adult human being#just everyone stop leave me alone let me breathe without calling me out on my coping mechanisms#i mean i’m unsurprised by this bc 30+ years of experience has never resulted in anything different#but it’s been too much in too concentrated of a dose the last few weeks and i’m shaking apart
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Indecent Proposal (17)
Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen
Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory
Indecent Proposal (16)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.
No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.
People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.
“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”
“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”
“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”
Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”
“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”
“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”
“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”
“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”
“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”
“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”
“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”
“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”
“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more.
“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”
“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash.
“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”
“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”
“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”
Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”
Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”
You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.
“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”
“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”
“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.
“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”
“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”
“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”
He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”
The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”
“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”
“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”
“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”
You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.
“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”
“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”
“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”
“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”
“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”
You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”
Part 17.2
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#stucky x reader#pregnant reader#stucky x fem#stucky x female reader#female reader#stucky x y#Indecent Proposal (17)
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Part 4: The Art of Letting Go
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Only know you love her when (she lets you) go
(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort
Words: 7.9K
TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3
December 2023
A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream.
She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching.
And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours.
It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever.
It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.
“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor.
“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”
“Zoe-”
“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”
Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self.
“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face.
“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”
“Please-”
“Z-”
“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”
“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears.
“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully.
It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could.
“This isn’t about-”
Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.
“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore.
Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs, “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”
“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”
Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door.
“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”
***
She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend.
It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again.
The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-
“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them.
“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.
“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up.
“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be.
“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively.
Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”
Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel.
“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”
Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision.
She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes.
“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend.
“I think she crashed-”
“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”
Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe.
“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”
“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy.
“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”
No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay.
“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”
Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”
“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line.
“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”
Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash.
“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t.
“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”
“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”
Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her.
“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up.
“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears.
“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”
She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart.
***
74 missed calls from Paige
did u go to the hospital
pick up ur fucking phone
dude
azzi
this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit
PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE
AZZI
just say ur ok at least
please
called ur mom
said u had a concussion and some bruising
thats not too bad
ur so fucking stupid
it could be so much worse
please pick up
AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE
so u can call carol and not me ok
thats just fucking perfect
dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights
so maybe just pick up
or call me back
u wanna play this stupid game fine
ignore me for now
but i’mma be in dc for christmas
ur gonna have to talk to me
i know where u live
***
The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life.
It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms.
“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red.
Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”
Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”
“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable.
The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare.
“What?”
“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb.
“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”
“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”
“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it.
Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige.
“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”
“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”
Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway.
“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”
“Well isn’t it?”
“Of course n-”
“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige? If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”
Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire.
“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”
“Azzi c’mon-”
“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”
Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”
“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”
“I don’t-”
“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”
When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her.
“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”
“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity.
“Had.”
“What?”
Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”
“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation.
“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”
“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”
The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again.
“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word.
“That’s not fair. I was really fucking hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.
“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”
“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is.
“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”
It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start.
“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage.
“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”
Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping.
“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”
Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-
“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”
Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”
“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes.
The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks.
“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset.
Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means.
“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”
“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”
“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better.
“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”
Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”
“Well tough luck because I do.”
“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her.
“Goodbye Paige.”
***
December 2024
azzi please just let me in
ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me
and i get it
but i can fix this i swear
i know u know im here
please fucking let me in
i fucked up
i know
im so fucking sorry
but dude we can fix this
just
can u just fucking let me in
i really wanna see u
i really wanna talk
can we just fucking talk
please
merry christmas az
u know what fuck u actually
didnt mean that sorry
i was just mad
u make me really fucking mad
christmas breaks almost over
i have to go back soon and ik u do too
we should talk before that
ur so fucking stubborn
but so am i
im not giving up
i won’t
January 2024
hi
i miss you
ur really fucking annoying
not texting me back
but its fine
i’ll just fucking spam
i had an ok day today
practice was kinda ass
not me tho
i was great
as always
bet i made more threes than you did
bro im watching ur game
and
what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up
get in the gym az jfc
oh that was a good pullup
not better than mine
but decent
been a fucking month azzi
just fucking call me back
or text me idk
i miss u
sooooooooooo
hows ur day
good? good.
hows mine?
oh kinda shit
lets see
we lost in front of all these uconn legends
to their fucking rival
everyones saying uconn fucking sucks
some people are saying i suck
they might not be completely wrong
now would be a good time to reply az
like maybe make me feel better
fuck u actually
what the fuck am i doing
idk if u even read these
February 2024
idk maybe i should stop
like maybe only fucking psychos do this
but idk bro
i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually
well sc was a shit show
i mean we knew it but holy shit
i really wanna talk to you about it
it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling
and u giggling
fuck i miss ur laugh
i miss you
idk if u just ignore these
so idk if ur gonna even see this
but
i wanted to tell you first
before u saw it from somewhere else
im staying at uconn
u were right
i didnt want to leave yet
i want my 4 years
but
just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said
that i dont wanna be in la with u
i do
its not about that
i just need to do whats best for me
and thats staying here
fuck
i get what u meant now
u didnt pick ucla over me
fuck fuck fuck
im sorry az
is this how u felt
when i didn’t text u back
because it’s actually fucking hell
i miss you so fucking much dude
i’m so sorry
i’m really fucking sorry azzi
for all of it
please just call me back
March 2024
last pac-12 tournament mvp!!
dude i’m so proud of you
we also won
idk if u heard
it wasnt easy either
everything just always fucking goes wrong
fucking pisses me off
but oh well
u know i dont even like texting
idk how many messages ive sent u
its gotta be hundreds atp
insane shit on my part
tf is wrong with me
did u see the bracket
see u in the final 4 azzi
April 2024
i fucking told u
i told you id see u in the final four
fucking meant it
fuck
gonna kick yalls ass
revenge szn
we’re built different in march
cleveland here we fucking go
but also
cant avoid me anymore
i cant fucking wait to see you az
***
UConn 87 UCLA 84
There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi.
“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball.
When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again.
The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands.
The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way.
But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige.
The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place.
“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out.
The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”
***
When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too.
“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard.
“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”
Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”
“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it.
“I-uh-”
“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”
Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over.
“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”
“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity.
Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them.
“Hi,” Paige says softly.
Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”
“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”
“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”
Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down.
“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly.
“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”
“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”
“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’
“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters.
“Paige please.”
“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”
Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again.
“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”
“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs.
Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her.
“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten.
“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”
Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing.
Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”
They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling.
“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”
“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her.
“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”
Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper.
“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”
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Danny's Daycare Part 8
[Master List]
“And that’s pretty much it.” Danny ended their tour in his office. “Any questions?”
Duke shook his head. “I’m excited to start.”
Danny showed him back out into the main area filled with kids which Mia and Ember had been taking care of while Duke learned about the daycare, the schedule, and what was expected of him. It seemed pretty simple- though he knew kids would always create unpredictable problems, but the job itself would be fine. The things he did for Tim.
“Finally!�� Mia shouted, picking up a crying kid beside her and carrying her towards Danny and Duke. “Clara’s been asking for you for a while!” She passed the crying blonde child off to Danny before pointing back towards the kids. “C’mon Duke, the kids are coloring for now.”
They left Danny to handle Clara’s tantrum and watch the rest of the kids. Duke settled down next to a group of five kids, all coloring different pictures of Gotham vigilantes. He settled next to a little blonde girl who was coloring a picture of Robin with only shades of purple.
“Whatcha coloring?” He asked.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, assessing. “Robin.”
“That’s cool- why’s he purple?”
The girl sighed dramatically, like Duke had asked a stupid question. Apparently he had because nothing would have prepared him for the lecture he was about to get. “Not him- her. Robin was a girl and she was the coolest Robin ever! How can you not know that? Everyone knows that girl Robin is the coolest one! But since she’s gone, Spoiler's my favorite! So I thought- how cool would it be if girl Robin and Spoiler were the same person and now I’m coloring robin purple!”
“Oh.” Duke managed to respond.
“Boys.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and turning back to her coloring project.
He’d have to tell Steph about her little fan the next time he saw her. “Spoiler’s one of my favorites too.” He offers, hoping she’ll un-shun him.
It works, she turns back with excitement on her face. “She’s so cool! I wanna be just like her when I get older!”
The day went by quickly. Mia left much earlier than Duke did so the last three hours of his shift were just him and Danny and the kids. Somebody named Ember popped in briefly in the evening to drop off food for Danny and Duke. Her aura was… strange- but not as strange as Danny’s.
When Duke first met Danny he didn’t know what to think. No one had ever been as… bright as Danny. Duke figured he was some kind of meta and filed away the information for later. After meeting Ember, however briefly, he wasn’t so sure anymore. She was the same as Danny. They kind of… glowed and it was so similar- like how Clark, Connor, and Jon all had a similar aura. If that was true, then Danny and Ember were likely aliens.
He hadn’t told Tim that yet.
Tim had been busy lately and if Duke hadn’t taken this task off his hands we would be even busier. Truth be told, Duke didn’t understand Tim’s fascination with Danny. Sure, it was strange that someone willingly moved to Gotham and chose to use their, apparently very large, inheritance to help the people of a city they weren’t even from as a favor to someone else, but if Duke couldn’t believe in the goodness in people then what could he believe in?
Besides, there was no proof that Danny was doing anything nefarious. None of the kids had gone missing, he didn’t have any strange or large sums of money being added to any of his accounts, nothing seemed amiss. So Duke agreed to apply for a job at the daycare and keep an eye on the situation for the summer. Just to make sure Danny really was a good guy.
Spending more time with Mia was a plus. With school and his extracurriculars Duke hardly had time to hang out with any of his non-family friends. Tim definitely owed him one for giving up his summer vacation to work at the daycare.
“Thanks for all your hard work today, Duke.” Danny approached having just sent the last kid off with their parents. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
Duke nodded, putting away the books he had in hand. “You need any help cleaning up?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got a couple of guys who will be here shortly to help me clean the place up.” Danny smiled softly.
Did he have a cleaning crew? If so, why did he seem so happy about it? “Cleaning crew?” Duke asked nonchalantly.
Shaking his head, Danny fell back into a rolling desk chair that had been brought out earlier in the day. “Just a couple of street kids who need some money and won’t let me give it to them without doing something to ‘earn it’ so…” Danny closed his eyes, slouching in the chair, and rested his head against the backrest. “I’ll let them work for an hour or so, overpay them, and get out of here.”
That was… not exactly what Duke had expected. Just one more thing he could use to prove Danny was a good guy and get Tim off his back about this whole ordeal. Maybe he’d even convince Tim to take a day off. That was probably hoping for too much.
“Well, have a good night, Danny.” Duke waved, grabbed his things, and left. There was still a bit of daylight but despite originally planning on going out as Signal, he’d decided against it. Kids were exhausting.
How Danny managed to run the daycare every day for twelve hours without passing out from exhaustion was beyond Duke.
~~~
Danny was exhausted.
Along with the Daycare, taking care of Miguel and Santiago, and his usual Kingly duties, Clockwork had been on his ass recently. Something about taking his job more seriously- what part of doing a favor for a prominent city spirit wasn’t taking his job seriously? Apparently Danny was also supposed to find and appoint his own Fright Knight- which would have been awesome to know a long time ago but whatever-
Could he just get ONE night of sleep? Please.
He’d canceled on his friends for three weeks straight, unable to find the time or energy to even video call and catch up. They’d started asking if he was okay, Jazz had started threatening to show up and force him to rest but she had her hands full between school and her internship so he wasn’t convinced she’d actually do anything.
Duke had been great, having the extra help at the daycare was really great and the days he didn’t work were much more difficult. Ember had agreed to come back regularly on Tuesdays and Thursdays for a little while, but she really wanted to get back to touring and playing music and he couldn’t really fault her for that.
It was the Thursday night after Duke’s first day when she showed up.
“Danny- how the hell am I supposed to know this?” Miguel groaned.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific, kid.” Danny called back, serving the steaming bowls of paprikash. Dani got lots of souvenirs from her travels and while Danny had certainly not thought he’d ever need to use the recipes, he was grateful for them now.
There was a shuffling sound and only a moment later Danny found Miguel standing beside him, pointing at a chemistry equation. “This. This is bullshit!”
Sensing Miguel’s rising frustration, Danny tried to placate him. “How about we take a break from studying for dinner? Afterwards I can explain it to you and anything else you’re confused about.”
“Except English.” Santiago muttered bitterly.
In the short time Danny had known the boys he’d learned a lot about their learning styles, their strong suits, what they liked and disliked, and what kind of smart they were. Santiago was a lot like Danny, scientifically minded- Danny had already caught him taking apart the toaster and the TV just to figure out how they worked. Which meant, while catching him up on STEM classes was relatively easy, they struggled much more with the arts.
Miguel, on the other hand, was competent. He was street smart. Although he wasn’t dumb by any stretch of the imagination, he struggled with learning anything from a book. Despite all of that, he really tried. He’d been keeping up with the worksheets Danny had gotten him and helped Santiago with anything he could, but he hated it and it showed.
Suffice it to say, the boys were struggling- all three of them.
“Dinner. Then we can figure it out.” Danny repeated, placing down the bowls and grabbing drinks.
Miguel left briefly to feed the cats, before joining them at the table.
“You know,” Danny started casually. “I was thinking about the cats.” Miguel tensed up. “It’s a lot of cats in my small apartment and I’m gone all day. I was thinking- if you had wanted- that you boys could have one of them.”
Like always, Danny spoke casually. He’d learned quickly that they didn’t respond well when Danny spoke too decisively. It was like they thought he was trying to tell them what to do, so in general, he made sure it was clear that he was only suggesting ideas.
He also knew that Miguel had taken a liking to the cats- especially Curiosity, and he wanted to find a way to give Miguel stability.
“You…” Miguel swallowed. “You mean it? Really?”
Danny nodded. “Of course. We can go shopping for everything this weekend. You remember Damian- from the mall?” Miguel nodded, confused. “He taught me everything I’d need to know about owning cats. I’ll give him a call and see if he’d be willing to come over and teach you what he knows.”
Santiago opened his mouth but was cut off by a rapid knocking on Danny’s front door. The three exchanged looks, no one really sure who it could be but all prepared for the worst because of their upbringing.
“Probably a neighbor or something.” Danny shrugged, hiding his own concerns as he moved away from the dining room towards the front door. Technically, they did have one neighbor on the floor in the apartment across from Danny’s and next to the boys but they kept to themselves. It was not likely to be the neighbor.
He didn’t see anyone when he looked through the peephole, saw nothing, and opened the door slowly.
“BOO!” A voice shouted only moments before a girl appeared out of thin air and lunged at him. Danny grabbed an outstretched hand, spun the body around, and slammed it into the nearest wall. “OW! Ancients dammit, Danny!” She shouted, phasing out of his grip.
“Dani?”
“Holy shit, Danny, that was badass! Maybe try not to slam me so hard next time though?” She chided goodnaturedly.
He let out a deep breath, calming his racing heart (Racing being a relative term because it was probably only beating as fast as a normal completely living human heart would). “Ancients fuck Dani, don’t do that!”
“Danny?” Miguel’s wary voice sounded.
Dragging his sister towards where he’d left the boys, Danny composed himself. “Sorry guys, this is my sister- Dani.”
“Danny?” Santiago squinted.
He shook his head. “She’s Dani with an ‘i’ and I’m Danny with a ‘y’. I know, it’s confusing. Dani, this is Miguel and Santiago.” Danny gave his sister a pointed look. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a bowl.
Dani plopped into the seat across from Santiago and waited for Danny to deliver the food. “So this is why you’ve been so busy?”
Returning with the food, Danny rolled his eyes. “No, I have been busy with everything else. Miguel and Santiago take up barely any of my time and I like having them around.”
“You two ever seen this man sleep?” She asked conspiratorially. They shook their heads slowly, looking between Danny and Dani. “Exactly. He’s been neglecting sleeping and eating because he’s a moron!”
“Dani.” All eyes landed on Danny who was rubbing a tired hand down his face. “I’ve been sleeping and eating- can we move on to why you’re here?”
Taking a big bite of food, Dani rolled her eyes. “Can’t a sister visit her brother?” She pointed at him and looked at the boys. “Can you believe this guy? Don’t ever treat your little brother as badly as Danny treats me, you hear?” She directed at Miguel who nodded in confusion.
Danny smacked his sister’s leg, which she’d propped up on his chair, and took his seat again. “I treat you just fine! You just don’t drop by that often- it’s been nine months since I saw you in person last and that was because you needed a favor!”
Dani cackled, shoveling down the food quickly and kicking her feet up onto her brothers’ lap. He rolled his eyes but let them remain as he finished his own food.
“I didn’t know you had another sister.” Santiago observed.
“You don’t talk about me? I’m hurt!” She gasped mockingly.
Miguel brought his and his brothers’ bowls to the sink and started washing them while everyone else chatted. “Miguel- I’ll do the dishes, don’t worry about it.”
“It’s fine, I’m almost done already.” It was just two bowls and spoons after all, but Danny still didn’t want them to do dishes when he’d cooked the meal. He wanted them to focus on school and making friends and forget about everything else- at least while they were at his apartment.
Santiago squinted between the two of them. “You look really similar.” He noted, suspiciously.
Danny offered a nonchalant shrug. “We’re siblings.”
“So’s Jazz but you two look nothing alike!” He exclaimed.
Miguel put a hang on his brother’s shoulder calmingly. “I think we’ll just head back to ours for the night.” He glanced at Dani a bit uncomfortably.
“If that’s what you guys want, but you don’t have to. I promise she won't bite- probably.” Danny chuckled.
The older boy shook his head. “We’ll let you two catch up and come back to do more school stuff tomorrow- if that’s all right?” Danny nodded and the boys left quickly.
“Awwww- I wanted to get to know your kids!” Dani pouted.
He sighed, grabbing his and his sister’s plates and carrying them to the kitchen sink. “Miguel’s pretty skittish- you scared him off. Not your fault really, but he doesn’t like new people, a skill that has kept him and his brother alive for the last three years.” Drying his hands on a towel, Danny leaned against the counter facing his sister and met her eyes. “But you didn’t come here for that, you didn’t even know about them. So what brought you here?”
She looked at the cup of water he’d given her and fidgeted with the condensation on the glass. Sheepishly, she looked at him before looking away again. Gathering her courage it seemed. “I… I want to get my GED… and go to GU.”
Although it seemed out of left field, Danny schooled his expression. She was always more in tune with emotions than even he was (whether that was because he’d been human before becoming a halfa and she’d only ever known life as a halfa or just because that was her personality, he didn’t know) and he knew that his opinion meant something to her- even if she pretended it didn’t.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She squinted.
“Well,” He sat across from her, hands on the table. “Are you just telling me that, or are you asking for my help?”
“Don’t make me say it.” She groaned.
With a smirk, he shook his head. “Okay, so you want my help?” She didn’t respond and he took that as a yes. “You can join the boys and I when we work on school stuff, I can help with getting your GED and putting together the application to GU as soon as that’s done. Do you need a place to stay?”
She wrinkled her face. “I’m not living with you.”
“Hey! I resent that! Besides, I own this building and most of it’s just empty apartments.”
Dani’s eyes widened. “Are you offering me an apartment?”
“Are you asking for an apartment?” He challenged, smirk on his face once again.
“I swear this is why everyone likes me better- I’m literally the better version of you!” She shouted, landing her forehead on the table and groaning at her brother’s silence. He remained silent while she continued to avoid looking at him. They were at a stalemate.
“Fine!” She shouted. “Can I have one of your apartments?”
He tilted his head to show he was still waiting for something.
“...Please?” She gritted out.
It was going to be nice having his sister around more often.
~~~
Turns out, tutoring kids who haven’t been in school for three years and one who has never been in school was a lot harder than Danny had anticipated. He didn’t know how to teach certain subjects (curse the arts) and was struggling to get Miguel and Dani to understand what he was saying when it came to math and sciences. He’d finally had the brilliant idea to go to the library and pick up a bunch more books.
Danny had left a clone to finish up at the daycare for the last couple of hours and made his way to the library. He’d need a couple of textbooks, a GED study book that was highly recommended, and a bunch of different literature books. Probably. He thought. Who knew really? He certainly didn’t.
He noted the library was pretty empty, the only patron was leaning over the front counter talking to the front desk girl. Danny didn’t pay them much mind as he moved throughout the library collecting books- though he was sure he felt their eyes on him any time he passed by the front desk.
Eventually, he had a stack of books that would keep his three ‘students’ busy for a while. Hopefully a long while, he was kind of out of ideas after this round of books.
Dropping them onto the front desk, the side opposite where the man was still standing, Danny sighed.
“That’s quite the collection.” The man noted.
Finally, Danny actually looked at the man. He hadn’t been expecting the most beautiful man he’d ever seen to be casually checking out his stack of books. He had short black hair that was slightly longer at the top with a shock of white right at the center of his forehead. His eyes were blue with a hint of green around the edges and he was built like a brick house.
He was wearing a red t-shirt, brown leather jacket that hugged his body nicely, and tight black pants which Danny refused to see how they hugged him.
With a shrug, Danny leaned against the counter, the front desk girl nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, they’re not for me.”
“Who’re they for?” The man asked casually.
“I’m helping a couple of kids get back on track in school but they haven’t gone in three years so there’s a lot to catch up on. I’ll admit,” Danny chuckled. “I’m only really built for STEM… the English side of things is… not my forte.”
The man nodded slowly. “Yeah you’ve got quite a collection of works there.” There was amusement in his voice.
Groaning, Danny rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m just going to have to hire a tutor in Literature or something. I barely have the time to teach what I know- I almost failed literature in high school.”
The man -Danny really needed to get his name- watched Danny closely for a moment. “Who are these kids to you? Why do you have to get them into school?”
“I said I would.” Danny shrugged.
“They family? Friends of yours?” The man probed.
Danny shook his head. “Just a couple of street kids who needed help and were willing to let me give it.”
The man squinted. “So you’re trying to help a couple of kids you barely know?” Danny nodded slowly, unsure if the man was judging him or not. “Well, if they get in- great. But if they don’t- at least you tried, right?”
Something about the way he said it set Danny on edge. “Excuse me?”
“They’re just some street kids, who cares, right?”
“What the fucks that supposed to mean?” Danny asked, voice rising. He didn’t give the man a chance to answer, anger already overflowing. “I promised I’d help them cause I have the means so I’m going to. And the reason Gotham’s such a shithole is because of people like you who think the homeless population are worthless good-for-nothings instead of the intelligent and down-on-their-luck people I know they are. Ancients- this whole city is fucked!”
The man began chuckling, setting off Danny’s anger even more. “What are you laughing about now, asshole?”
Offering a genuine smile that took Danny completely off guard, the man offered him a hand to shake. “I’m Jason, former street kid, it’s nice to meet someone who actually cares.”
Stupefied and completely confused, Danny shook his hand without meaning to. “Danny- did you say all of that shit to test me or something?”
The man- Jason- shrugged. “Had to make sure you weren’t some kind of creep.”
“What the fuck?” Danny breathed trying to reign in the anger he’d let seep out before (he had years worth of repressed rage and nowhere to put it, he’d thought he might finally have someone to unleash the anger on).
“Well, if I haven’t completely scared you off with that little stunt,” Jason smirked, grabbing one of those flower pens libraries always seemed to have and scribbled something down. “Literature was my best subject in high school. I’d be more than happy to help you tutor a couple of street kids in need.”
Jason slid the piece of paper to Danny. It was a phone number. People were giving him their number a lot recently- what was that about? As a teenager Danny could count on two hands how many contacts he had in his phone, after… the incident, he could count on one hand how many contacts he had. After moving to Gotham he’d slowly begun collecting numbers from apparently the entire city.
“What was that yelling about?” A woman’s voice cut through the silence Danny hadn’t realized was there.
Waving his hand casually, Jason smiled. “Just me being an asshole and Danny here defending his people. I’ll see you at brunch?” He directed the question at the red headed librarian who nodded suspiciously. “Nice to meet you Danny, think about my offer.”
He didn’t mean to track Jason’s movements as he left but he couldn’t help it. He also didn’t realize he was doing it until the librarian cleared her throat. “Ah, right, sorry.” Danny pushed the books towards her sheepishly.
She began scanning the books, typing something in the computer between each one. “Danny was it?” He nodded. “I’m Barbara, sorry about Jason, he can really get under people’s skin if he wants to.”
“Nah he’s fine.” Danny sighed. “I probably would have done the same thing.”
She eyed him curiously. “What did he do?”
“Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t some asshole who was just using some street kids I’m helping.” He paused, offering his library card to Barbara. “I’m not- for the record. Just trying to help them get into school again.”
Barbara bagged up his books during his explanation. When he was finished she handed him the bag. “Jason really is one of the smartest people I know- if you’re considering letting him help you with that…. You won’t be sorry.”
He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to accept the stranger’s help. “I’ll think about it, thanks.”
~~~
When Danny left the library Babs immediately pulled out her phone and texted Jason. She hadn’t seen him smile like that since before he’d died, there was no world in which she let him let Danny get away. Whether that boy knew it or not, he was going to be a part of the family. It was like fate- he even looked the part, black hair, blue eyes, completely exhausted, going out of his way to help people he barely knew- he was perfect.
Now to strategize getting them together- she’d need Dick’s help. He’d be more than excited for the task at hand.
If she closed the library a little early in order to find everything she can on Danny Nightingale- the man Tim had been low-key convinced would become a rogue and had begun obsessing over for the past couple of months- and find a way to orchestrate is integration into the family then who could blame her?
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#fanfiction#danny phantom#danny phantom/jason todd#danny's daycare#dp x dc#dead on main#jason todd#barbara gordon#dani phantom
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Recovery - Chapter 4
Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction
Summary : Y/N’s ex boyfriend interrupts her dinner with Marshall.
Tags : angst, light smut, mention of miscarriage
You couldn’t believe Simon was standing here, only a few hours after breaking your heart for the second time.
- What are you doing here ? You asked.
- Can I talk to you alone ? He replied, looking at the three other people who were staring at you.
- Yeah… come to my room, you said as you led him upstairs.
You closed the door to your bedroom and caught him staring around.
- Nice space, he said. You settled in ok ?
- Why are you here Simon ? You asked.
- I want to apologise, he said. I didn’t expect to see you. Especially not when I was with someone else. I think I owe you an explanation.
- You don’t. We are broken up and you are free to kiss whoever you want, you pointed out.
- Still, I’m sorry you had to witness this.
You tried to smile and keep your composure. As much as seeing him with another woman hurt your feelings, you were touched by his apology.
- I hope she makes you happy, you said.
- She does.
- May I ask how long the two of you have been dating ?
- A while now, he said, suddenly looking uneasy.
- As in…? You felt the need to insist.
- Well, it pretty much started immediately after I left you, he admitted.
- Wow. You did not lose any time, did you ?
You stared at him in disbelief. You did not expect him to start dating so soon after leaving you.
- I want to come clean, Simon said.
- About what ?
You could feel yourself becoming more aggressive. You sensed there was something wrong.
- Sarah and I met when you were in the hospital, he said.
- Did you cheat on me ? You asked.
- No. I could never. But she… - she is part of the reason why I left, he admitted.
- I don’t understand. You said you left because I had a problem that needed fixing.
- I know. And I did. Partly.
- Did you even care about me ? You asked. Or were you just too eager to start a new, easier relationship ?!
- Of course I cared. I was worried sick for you. But then I met Sarah and…
Simon took a long pause.
- She made me see how simple love can and should be, he explained. As much as I loved you, there was too much drama between us. You know it too, Y/N.
- No. Don’t try this with me, you warned him. What you have the audacity to call drama is what I call trauma, Simon. I DID NOT CHOOSE TO LOSE OUR BABY. I DID NOT CHOOSE TO GRIEVE WHILE YOU MOVED ON.
- But you did choose to take pills, he said.
- BECAUSE YOU FUCKING LEFT ME ALONE, you screamed at him. PILLS WERE THE ONLY THING THAT HELPED ME EASE THE PAIN. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I TOOK PILLS ? YOU WERE FUCKING UNABLE TO BE HERE FOR ME. AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO COME HERE TO DO WHAT ? EASE YOUR CONSCIENCE ? TRY AND BE A GOOD MAN ?
You were now looking at Simon with disgust.
- Let me make this clear for you : a good man would have stayed by my side. A good man would have helped me. A GOOD MAN WOULD HAVE HAD THE BALLS TO BE HONEST FROM THE GET GO.
- Would you have seeked help if I had been ? He asked.
- THAT IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. YOU ARE A PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN.
- Look, Y/N, I am sorry. I thought I needed to tell you the truth. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and you have no idea how hard it’s been.
- WELL I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT YOUR GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
You were screaming at the top of your lungs and tears were running down your face.
- Simon, I think you should go, Talia said as she emerged in the room.
- Look, I am sorry. I am merely trying to do the right thing, he tried to explain.
- YOU KNOW WHAT ? MAYBE I AM GLAD I LOST THE BABY AFTER ALL. I WOULDN’T WANT MY CHILD TO GROW UP TO BE A PIECE OF SHIT LIKE YOU.
- Y/N ! Enough ! Jamal said.
- No. You have no idea what he…
- We heard everything, he interrupted.
Everyone was now gathered in your room, looking at you. Your heart was beating fast and you were out of your mind.
- I never want to see you again, Simon, you said coldly.
- I am sorry, he said before leaving.
You looked at him as he left the room and, eventually, the house. You were still crying, but unable to make a single sound.
- I thought you were going to kill him, Jamal said. God, I didn’t know you were capable of screaming so loud.
- You should have let me, you simply said.
- Are you ok ? Talia asked.
- No. He lied to me. He never really cared. All this time I thought… whatever.
You put your face in your hands. Still in shock. It felt as if everything you had ever felt about your relationship had been a lie all along.
You felt someone pulling you in their arms. It was Marshall. You didn’t move. You just kept on crying, tears of sadness, pain and anger. He didn’t move either, he just stood still and stroked your hair.
- Do you need anything ? Talia asked, but you were unable to answer.
- We should give them a moment, babe, Jamal said.
- We… we’ll be downstairs, she said.
You heard the door close and it was just you and Marshall. For what seemed like forever, you were unable to stop crying. He held you and stroked your hair and skin in an attempt to soothe you. At some point, you had no tears left. Still, it took a few minutes for you to let go of Marshall’s. When you realised you were holding on to him, you felt embarrassed.
- sorry, you said. I didn’t mean to…
- It’s fine, he said, taking a look at your face. You don’t have to apologise.
- I kind of do, though. You probably had other plans that didn’t involve me bawling like a baby or screaming like a madwoman.
- Well you didn’t choose to, did you ?
- No but… God, I am so embarrassed, you said.
- Don’t be, he said as he took your hand.
- I am such a mess. And Simon he is such an…
- Dont start. Don’t think of him, he said.
His voice was firm. It almost sounded like an order. It would probably have felt weird if this hadn’t been soothing. Truth was, you didn’t want to think anymore. About anything. This very instant, you wished you could swallow some pills, just to ease your mind and prevent you from overthinking.
You let your head fall on Marshall’s shoulder, your hand still in his. In this moment, his presence was the most reassuring thing in the world. He pulled you closer and held you again. You buried your face in his neck.
- Do you want to leave ? You finally asked.
- Do you want me to leave ? Marshall asked back.
- No, not yet, you replied instinctively, before you could even think about your words.
You could feel his fingers tracing circles on your skin. You kept your eyes closed and focused on the sensation of his skin against yours. You could feel his breath on your neck.
- I just… I don’t want to think, you said, your head buried in his neck.
- Then don’t, he replied.
Without really thinking, you planted a kiss on his neck. You could tell he was surprised as it almost startled him. Yet, he pulled you even closer and dug his fingers into your skin. This prompted you to do it again. His skin felt soft and warm against your lips.
- Kiss me, you pleaded, without thinking about it. It was as if words fell out of your mouth.
And much to your surprise, he did kiss you. He held you tight as his lips brushed against yours. The kiss was soft, at first, and then deepened, as Marshall’s tongue found yours. He placed one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your hip. You soon found yourself against the wall as he kept kissing you. You didn’t want it to end. In fact, it was quite the contrary. You kissed him harder and softly bit his lip, causing him to grunt.
- Y/N… he started, his blue eyes staring into yours.
- Please, you pleaded.
In that moment, you realised you were full of desire for him. You wanted nothing else but for him to make the pain go away. For a split second, it seemed like he was going to talk, but his lips found yours again. His kisses were soft, so were the strokes of his fingers on your skin. But as agreeable as this was, you wanted more.
- Marshall, please.
- What ? He asked between two kisses.
- More.
It was the only word that could leave your lips. More. Marshall gently pushed you against the wall again and deepened your kiss, his hands starting to wander around your body. It felt as though your skin was on fire. You needed him, you craved his touch. Your hands started to wander as well. You pulled his hat and his jacket, before running your fingers through his hair. You could feel his hands in your back, underneath your tank top. His moves were ever so soft, ever so slow, as if he wanted to make sure not to rush you. You were the one in control. Soon enough, you ran your hands underneath his tee-shirt. You could feel muscles under your touch.
- Take it off, you ordered.
Once again, he did as you said and went back to kissing you. You ran your fingers through his back, gently scratching it with your nails. You could tell he liked it by the way he deepened the kiss. He gently grabbed your waist and you wrapped your legs around him. He brought you to the bed, placing you on top of him. You quickly took your tank top off and he gently unclasped your bra. Your chest was against his and it felt like your skin was meant for his touch. You started grinding against him while you kept on kissing and he gently caressed your back. At that point, you were soaking wet and you wanted him to feel how much desire you had for him, just like you could feel him being rock hard for you. As you got up to remove your sweatpants, he gently grabbed your arm.
- Y/N… he started.
- Mmh ? You asked.
- I don’t think it’s a good idea, he said, sitting up.
- Don’t you want to ? You asked, confused.
- Believe me, I do, but… we shouldn’t.
- How about you hold that thought for later ? You said seductively, before kissing him with passion. I want you.
He kissed you back and pulled you closer for a second before breaking the kiss again.
- Y/N… no.
This time, it was firm. You stared at him in disbelief.
- What’s wrong ? You asked.
He stared in your eyes intensely and handed you your tank top.
- It’s a bad idea, Y/N.
- Why ? You asked, visibly hurt.
- I want you, he said. And you’re amazing, but…
- But what ? You asked rolling your eyes.
- You had a bad night, our friends are right downstairs and… he took some time to answer.
- And what ?
- I don’t think I should be messing with you, he simply said.
- Meaning ?
- Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is, he said as he put his tee-shirt back on.
- I feel so stupid, you blurted out.
- Don’t, he said gently.
- Well clearly I do. I shouldn’t have jumped on you, as you clearly don’t want me !
- Please, keep your voice down, he asked in an annoyed voice. The last thing we need is for Talia and Jamal to hear us. You have no idea how much I want this… but it can’t happen.
- Right, you said.
- I’m really sorry, Y/N.
You stared at each other for a few seconds. He leaned in and kissed your cheek.
- I should probably go, he said.
- Right.
You lowered your gaze, feeling like a fool. Marshall mumbled a few words of apology before leaving the room and heading downstairs, where you heard him say goodbye to your friends. You made sure he had left before you joined them in the living room.
- Are you feeling better ? Talia asked.
- Yeah, you lied. Look guys, I’m sorry for the screaming and the crying, I just… I lost it.
- It’s ok, she said. We were just really worried for you. I’m sorry you didn’t get the celebratory night you deserved.
- Yeah, it sure doesn’t feel like much of a celebration, you murmured.
- What ?
- Nothing, you said. I think I should go and rest.
- Yeah. We’ll do something with Marshall another night, Jamal said. It’s great that you guys are hitting it off. He really likes you, you know ?
- We’ll see, you said with a forced smile.
You got back to your room and laid in bed, still surrounded by the scent of Marshall’s cologne. You tried to clear your head and go to sleep, but you could only think of the sensation of his skin against yours. At the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be like when you saw him again. Ever since you had started hanging out with the group, you had thought the world of him. He was the funniest person you knew, kind and thoughtful too. You really hoped you hadn’t blown it.
#eminem#eminem fanfiction#eminem x reader#marshall mathers#slim shady#eminem fluff#eminem imagine#marshall mathers imagine#marshall mathers x reader#marshall mathers headcanons#eminem smut
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Ruined - M.S
Angst, no smut triplets ghost their best friend after being in LA for 5 months, Nate’s makes an appearance in this but main focus is Matt, not a happy ending soz, I just randomly wrote this so if it’s shit that’s why
“Nate you owe me for this I swear to god” I groan as I stepped out of the car.
Nate had dragged me to a party, practically begging me for the last couple days to go with him.
“I knowww” He sings back, a grin on his face.
I shake my head and walk inside with him, him immediately dragging me towards our friends. All of us talk as the party continues around us, my eyes rolling every time I watched Nate take another shot knowing this was going to be a long night.
Taking a look around the room, my eyes land on three familiar faces. All but one with a drink in their hand. All laughing as they spoke to one another and others around them. Why the fuck are they here? Since when were they even back from LA?
“Nate” I yell over the music, pulling him towards me by his arm.
“What’s up?” He asks.
“What the fuck are they doing here?” I ask, his eyes widening telling me he was more than aware that they’d be here.
“I uh - I don’t know” He mumbles.
“You knew didn’t you? That they’d be here” I question, my eyes narrowing at him.
“Kinda?” He replies clearly trying to avoid saying the full truth.
“Fuck you Nate, take an Uber home” I growl.
Turning away from Nate I make my way towards the front door. My heart pounds in my chest as my attempt to leave becomes difficult due to the amount of people.
Finally outside, I take a deep breath. My mind still spinning with questions. Practically running towards my car, I freeze after my names called. I knew who it was. I didn’t have to turn around to know. It was Matt.
“Please just wait a second” He yells out his footsteps becoming louder.
“No, no Matt leave me the fuck alone” I reply, my body turning to face him.
“I need - we need to talk to you” He says, his words drawing my attention to his two brothers on the porch.
“Talk to me? You’ve had 5 months to talk to me. 5 months. But no, not a single word, not a text, call, I got nothing” I reply, anger more than present in my voice.
“You have to hear us out, we thought it’d be best for you” He replies.
“Best for me? Are you all insane? You thought making a fake promise to stay in contact was a good thing? Making me slowly lose all of you?” I ask.
“No - I - it isn’t like that” He begins.
“Oh it’s not? What was it like then? Did you sit for months and wonder what the fuck you did wrong to make your best friends want nothing to do with you? No. None of you did, instead you had the time of your lives” I reply, my voice raising.
“I know it might not make sense right now, but we didn’t want you to hurt more by missing us so we thought no contact at least until we got back was a better idea” Nick speaks, my eyes flickering over to him.
“Nick’s serious. We were trying to do what was best. We didn’t want you sitting around and waiting for us” Chris adds in.
“You’re all delusional if you think that makes any sense” I respond, “I sat around for weeks just hoping for anything from one of you. God I tried begging Nate to ask you guys what I did wrong, I was miserable and I had to pick myself back up and move on with my life”
“We’d check in on you through Nate. Please we know you and we just - it was stupid but we thought we were doing the right thing” Nick said.
“You know me? It’s been 5 months, you don’t know me - not anymore. Hell maybe you didn’t know me at all if you thought what you did was the right thing” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek as I felt tears threatening to well up in my eyes.
“Fuck sakes, let’s just go guys I told you this wasn’t going to go well” Matt says, turning and beginning to walk to his car.
A sarcastic laugh leaves my mouth before I talk, “There you go Matt walk away, not the first time. You must be real good at it by now”
Tears form in my eyes at the familiar sight in front of me, him walking away just as he did at the airport - except this time there was no hug, and no wave goodbye.
“Did you know I loved you?” I yell, his body stiffening as he took in my words. Turning around his eyes pierce into mine, a hint of sadness within them.
“You knew” I said, tears streaming down my face as the realization set in. He knew the entire time and still cut me off with no remorse.
“Not at first. A couple months after we left Nate told me, he told me how you were going to tell me at the airport before we left” He said.
My breath hitched in my throat as I desperately tried to think of a response.
“Fuck you Matt” I yelled, walking closer to him, “Fuck you fuck you fuck you”
“Can you just - fuck listen to me for a second” He yells out.
“What? What could you possibly have to say?” I ask.
Each second that passes feels like hours, the want to walk away from him getting stronger the longer he stayed silent.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up to you. I had typed shit out so many times but I couldn’t ever bring myself to send it” He breathes out.
I stand there, my eyebrows furrowed as I wiped away my tears.
“I already had to lose not just you, but your brothers once. I’m not doing it again. I’m not going through any of this shit again” I say, my voice quiet now as I continued to realize he didn’t love me back, wishing I hadn’t said I loved him out loud, “Keep doing what you were and don’t contact me”
I now was the one walking away. I couldn’t do it again. Not after I had spent weeks crying over him - and his brothers to Nate. After he’d broke my heart and knowing now that he knew he did.
“I fucking love you okay? I knew I did before we left but I wasn’t about to tell you to then just leave. None of this was supposed to hurt you, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way” I heard Matt yell.
Turning around one last time, my hand on the car door handle, I sighed before talking, “You ruined what could’ve been a really good thing. I spent months heartbroken over you. You don’t get to come back and think everything would just magically be okay. I love you, but I sure as hell don’t want to”
TAGLIST: @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @sturniolosreads @yesterdaysproblem @freshloveforthefit @thecynthh @m4tthewsgf @meerkatzthings @creamoncreamoncream2 @avasturn @ssturniolo92 @slut4chr1s @dev-speaks @freshlovehacker @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @mattnchrisworld @sturnioloenthusiast @ashleighpray23 @leah-loves-lilies @athaliahxoxo @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @udonotknowme @sophssturn
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fic#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#matt x fem reader#solo triplets x reader#matt sturniolo angst
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pirate!au headcanons — sam winchester
cw : gn!reader, mild angst, fluff, enemies to lovers ish, kidnapping, weapons, violence, injury(?), fire, 1.1K words. requested !
prompt : royalty!sam x pirate-captain!reader
MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!
bonus!!! @mxltifxnd0m the requester, my sweet sweet wifey also made a gorgeous moodboard for this set of headcanons! feast your eyes <3
⟢ you’re not the type to take hostages; they’re a hassle for a multitude of reasons, plus you’re not too into making money by selling other people
⟢ but this one was just too easy, and promised too much money to turn down
⟢ not only that, but he looks quite good tied up to a beam in the spare storage room
⟢ “well, well. to what do i owe this pleasure, mr. samuel winchester? oh. i do apologize. duke samuel winchester.”
⟢ there’s a withering look in his eyes as he looks up at you, standing over him with your hands on your hips
⟢ “you tell me,” he retorts, indelicate and unphased by your sharp-edged sarcasm
⟢ you raise your eyebrows at him. “strong willed, are we? i thought you’d be all whiny and pathetic like your annoying royal counterparts. i suppose you might be entertaining to have around after all.”
⟢ quickly, he proves to be more than just that. within four hours of setting sail, he escapes his bondage and almost makes it away on an emergency boat
⟢ of course, you’ll have none of that; he knocks out half of your crew, but is no match against you
⟢ he fights well with a stolen sword, but you disarm him in seconds, then skillfully tackle and pin him to the ground
⟢ “where do you think you’re going, pretty boy?” you snarl into his ear, triumphant as you press a knee into his back to keep him down and tie his hands back
⟢ you brush off the help of your crew as you unceremoniously yank him to his feet and push him back into the storage room, muttering about the incompetence of the people around you
⟢ you retie him to the beam, sure that he’ll be unable to escape again after having done it yourself
⟢ even then, you keep a close eye on him; half to make up for the few blubbering fools on your crew you’re forced to keep for numbers, and half because he intrigues you
⟢ of course, you spend the most of your time keeping the ship orderly, robbing royal barges, and planning details of anything and everything in your private quarters
⟢ but you’ve started taking lunch in his dank storage room, finding pleasure in the way that he glares at you and makes scathing comments about how “you won’t get away with this”
⟢ you, of course, already have gotten away with it, but it’s still entertaining to hear him threaten you
⟢ certainly, you don’t express your entertainment; in fact, you hide it with a glower and near-silence
⟢ soon, sam changes tactics, and he asks questions about you, even flatters you a bit, trying to gain trust
⟢ you easily recognize the game he plays, but you play along. better to let him think that it’s working
⟢ you answer in short sentences, keeping at your mysterious and closed-off persona, but letting enough truth slip through that he can sense your honesty
⟢ it’s easy for you to tell how smart he is; the fact that he escaped so quickly that first day, the way he tries to play you, the exact questions that he asks and the calculated responses that he gives
⟢ that, and the way that he can tell his tactics aren’t actually working. better to let you think that he thinks they are
⟢ really, you both see right through each other with an odd sort of ease
⟢ you despise each other, you suppose, for the reason that you should
⟢ and you so strangely understand each other, the way that the both of you talk with such calculation and caution and intelligence
⟢ the words that you choose to use and the little truths that you let slip through tell you that you’re alike, that you’ve suffered and found refuge in some of the same sorts of things
⟢ what’s stranger is that sam feels this way even when you barely speak. you just sit there in silence most days, and yet, he reads you so easily
⟢ he wonders if you can read him just the same; thinks you can based on your gaze and the pointed, short questions that you ask
⟢ strangest is the way he wishes that you’d speak more often, maybe just to prove that not everything out of your mouth has to be scathing and cold
⟢ when the ship catches fire during a battle, sam discovers that while your words may be rough and mean, your actions are not always
⟢ he’s already coughing from the smoke seeping in from the crack under the door when you burst in, determined and silent
⟢ the flames spread and the crew rushes about, doing their best to douse the flames, but you’re untying his bonds and grabbing the collar of his shirt to push him out
⟢ you hand him a bucket, grab your own, and don’t say a word unless to shout orders as you work tirelessly with your crew to save the ship
⟢ sam does not make a run for it when he so easily could. sam helps
⟢ the damage was contained, and the ship can make it to the next port for repairs without problem, but sam’s room is unusable
⟢ the only empty space able to fit him is either your bedroom or your office, and either sound like torture to you
⟢ you tie him up in your small office, now forced to be extra careful to hide and store your documents and keep them out of sight when you use them
⟢ but you don’t tie him up quite as tight as before, and you take him on walks around the deck
⟢ you give him a cot and tie up his leg. he could get out of it if he wanted, with his skill, but he doesn't
⟢ then you untie his leg and let him eat at your desk across from you, and then you discuss plans and books and politics with him, and then you have him wrapped around your finger
⟢ you still pretend to hate each other, but he’s smart and resourceful and helps you with your plans
⟢ and you’re secretly more compassionate than most royalty he’s ever met, and you treat him fairly and respectfully once you realize he deserves it
⟢ he likes it on your ship and you like having him there, and one day when you threaten to tie him back up, he gives you a withering look like the first time he laid eyes on you
⟢ it takes less than a few moments for your lips to be on his and your hands tangled in his hair
⟢ his rough hands grip your waist and without question, he’s your second in command, your right hand man
#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester pirate au#sam winchester headcanon#sam winchester blurb#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester fanfiction#spn headcanon#sam winchester x gn!reader#supernatural headcanon#supernatural sam winchester#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester#spn sam winchester#supernatural#sam winchester x you#supernatural requests#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic
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Polar Opposites
(Collaboration with @harlowcomehome I hope you all enjoy this! I appreciate you hch for doing this with me 💘)
The sound of glass breaking, against the marbled floors filled the room.
“Oh, so we’re breaking my shit?” Jack scoffed standing a safe distance away from you.
“Not everything in these cabinets is yours.” You barked back, filling another box with wine glasses. You groaned, getting the broom and dustpan from the hallway closet.
You cleaned up the shards of glass, trying not to cry as your life came to a crumble.
“It was one time! It won’t happen again.” Jack pleaded with you, he cared about this relationship more than he cared to admit.
“You’re right! It won’t because I’m not your girlfriend anymore.” You shrugged before throwing the pile of glass into the trash can.
“You’re going to throw away this entire relationship because I made a mistake? It was one time Y/N. You’re being stupid!”
“So the cheater wants to call me stupid huh?” You sarcastically laughed as you held the heavy cardboard box close to your chest.
“You’re going to regret this this.” He rubbed his hand down his beard, scoffing as he said it. “You’re never going to find someone like me.”
“That’s the plan.” You smiled even with tears in your eyes.
“So were really done? You’re not even going to fight for us?” You shrugged your shoulders and placed all all your boxes into the hallway.
“Who is going to help you with everything?” He tried asking. “That’s none of your concern anymore Jack.”
“Seriously? Whatever it’s your loss.” You wanted to look up one last time but you knew better. Once you were out the door you let the tears fall freely.
You were going to miss him but you knew better days were ahead.
————————————————————————
“Seriously Y/N maybe try giving Jack another chance, you know people can change.” Urban stated as the two of you walked together.
Recently Urban has been trying to persuade you to get back together with Jack which you had no idea why he’d wanna do something like that considering Jack’s the one that cheated on you.
“Why do you want the two of us to get back together so bad? He’s the one that cheated on me last time I checked.”
“I mean true but he hasn’t been the same without you Y/N.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes because that night you left he sure wasn’t acting like he was going to miss you.
It was silent for a few minutes more the only sound coming from the wind that blew in your direction. “Just maybe meet up with him tomorrow? I kinda told him I’d get you to meet him tomorrow.”
You sighed and faced Urban. “Fine but you owe me.” He smiled. “Thank you I promise he’s changed, he really has.”
All you could do was hope that everything Urban was saying was the truth, you didn’t feel like getting your heartbroken again.
————————————————————————
You were beyond nervous when you pulled up to the restaurant the following day, it’s only been a few months since everything went down with Jack.
You weren’t exactly sure how tonight was going to go but you could only pray for the best. Making your way inside you were immediately greeted by one of the hostesses.
“You’re here for Jack, correct?” You looked around the dimly lit restaurant and was a bit surprised when you saw nobody else dining in.
“Uh yes I’m here with Jack.” The hostess smiled. “Just follow me please.” You nodded and walked behind the hostess till she arrived to a room in the back of the restaurant where Jack was sitting.
“Here we are and I’ll be back in a few to take your orders.” She smiled and you went to take your seat across from Jack.
He smiled at you and leaned back a bit in his seat to get a better look at you, you’d be lying yourself if you said he didn’t look good.
“Y/N.” He said. “Hi Jack.” You whispered and looked around the room seeing it was filled with red roses.
“Did you rent out this entire place for us?” He nodded his head.
“I wanted time alone with you, I’ve had some time to think.” Jack sighed and leaned forward and grabbed your hands.
“I fucked up I really did I should’ve never cheated on you and I apologize for the lack of care and emotion I put into losing you, if you’re willing to give us another chance I promise I won’t mess up.” He stated.
“It’s hard to forgive you. You didn’t just make a small mistake, you slipped and fell into another woman.”
Jack stiffed a laugh, knowing this wasn’t a laughing matter. “It’s okay, you can laugh. I said it that way for a reason. I just want to feel like I can trust you again.”
“I promise you can, I’ll do anything to change your mind.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping with sadness.
You knew you were taking a risk because there was a chance that you’d end up broken hearted again but you did miss him.
“Fine, but if you mess up again I promise I’m breaking everything in your house.” He laughed.
“Sounds like a fair trade to me but I promise there won’t be another time.”
The rest of the night went smoothly the two of you just talking and catching up on lost time.
————————————————————————
You and Jack had started seeing one another again, spending a lot of time together. Something told you not to trust him, and to keep your options open. So you did just that.
Jack on the other hand, had never been in more love with you. He was doing everything right. He was cleaning his schedule to make more time for you and making sure to put you before anything.
You were in the shower, and Jack had just got back from the studio.
"Baby? Where are you?"
He heard the shower going and decided to take the opportunity to look through your jewelry box.
He had been looking at engagement rings, and decided to look around hoping to find your ring size.
Just at that moment, your phone started buzzing uncontrollably. At first, Jack ignored it, not wanting to invade your privacy but when the messages wouldn’t stop he got curious.
He knew your phone passcode, and quickly unlocked it, hoping you wouldn't be done in the shower anytime soon.
He saw the messages and photos exchanged between a man named James, reading the text thread between you and him.
Jack felt his heart breaking as he read how little he meant to you.
"How could I be so stupid?" He thought to himself.
Just then you had turned the water off, hearing the sound of someone in your bedroom.
"Jack? Is that you?"
"Y/N, can you come here?" His voice was shaky.
You had a gut feeling, drying yourself off and putting a robe on immediately.
You stood in the doorframe, watching as Jack continued looking through your phone.
“What’s wrong? You don't like when someone plays the game better than you?" You smirked watching his tears fall.
"Is this what you planned all along?" His face was bright red, as he held back the rush of more tears.
"Sucks doesn't it? Hurts doesn't it?"
You walked toward him, snatching your phone from his hand. "Y/N! I changed! I changed everything for you.”
"Seems like your loss.” you smirked pointing to the door.
#jack harlow#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow x you
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💘 for the ask game? Might have a preference for the dare kiss if the inspo strikes you... 👀
Inspo did, in fact, strike me (thank you for the prompt!)
💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss
Prompt from this post
CW: alcohol use
-
Eddie doesn’t know whose brilliant idea this was, but they owe him for emotional damages.
Like–
Look, Eddie had really only ever attended high school parties as a dealer, had had very little interest in them otherwise, and thus has never played any of those cheap excuses for a chance to swap spit that they called games. Not truth or dare, not seven minutes in heaven, and not—Eddie watches in dizzy fascination as the empty beer bottle twirls and twirls in the center of the circle—spin the bottle.
Except someone had suggested it, and the rest of them had been just drunk enough to decide it was a great idea and join in.
Except Eddie is pretty sure this game is supposed to be played with classmates you don’t really know; people you barely remember in the morning and whose eyes you can avoid in the hallways at school on the following Monday – not two girls Eddie helped save the world with, the boyfriend of one of the aforementioned girls (and possibly the boyfriend of the aforementioned boyfriend? Eddie’s not sure what’s going on there), three guys he’s been friends with since middle school, and–
–the bottle stops, and Robin lets out a whoop. It’s pointing to the spot directly to Eddie’s right, the spot filled with none other than–
Steve Harrington.
The current bane of Eddie’s existence, with his stupid, pretty face and his stupid, soft-looking hair and his stupid, dry sense of humor and the way he’s stupidly sweet to Eddie and the way he’s smiling at stupid, stupid Eddie right now, who has a stupid, embarrassing crush on the guy, and now Eddie has to kiss him because the beer bottle says so. It’s the law, or something.
Eddie swears he hasn’t actually had that much to drink; he’s pretty sure proximity to Steve just does this to his brain.
Steve keeps smiling at him, amused, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Well?” he goads gently, elbowing Eddie in the side. “You gonna back down, or are you gonna kiss me, Munson?”
And– okay, one, Eddie has never backed down from a dare in his life, mostly because he operates on at least seventy-five percent impulsive thought power, and two, there’s no way Eddie isn’t going to take the chance to kiss Steve. It might not be the way he wants, but it also might be the only chance he’s going to get, so he turns and curves a hand at the side of Steve’s jaw—to steady Steve or to steady himself or maybe because he just wants to touch—and leans in and presses his lips to Steve’s.
And he tries to keep it PG, alright? He tries to keep it close-mouthed and soft, as easy and meaningless as the short kiss Robin had laid on him a few moments ago that had made it his turn to spin the bottle in the first place – he tries, but then someone (maybe Gareth? Hard to say, the world outside of Steve and Eddie has gone a little wishy-washy) shouts, “You call that a kiss?” and, well–
Eddie’s never backed down from a dare in his life.
(And if this is the only opportunity he’s going to have to kiss Steve, he figures he might as well milk it for all it’s worth.)
So he tilts his head, and parts his lips, and finds that Steve’s tongue is already there, hot and wet and licking into his mouth like he’s starving for it, teasing Eddie’s tongue back into his own mouth and sucking, and–
Eddie pulls back before the embarrassing noise he can feel building up in his chest can work its way free. He blinks at Steve, who is staring right back, eyes wide and starry, pupils blown, his mouth still hanging open a little as he pants for air, his bottom lip full and shiny in a way that makes Eddie want to dive right back in and bite him a little bit.
In fact, he’s very close to doing just that until someone’s voice breaches their little bubble.
“Well, Steve?” Robin prods, sounding far too amused for anyone’s good. “Are you gonna take your turn?”
“Nah.” Steve shakes his head, eyes still trained on Eddie as he stands up. “I think I’m out. Eddie?”
Eddie’s on his feet before Steve can even finish saying his name. “Right behind you.”
And then Steve is smiling again, eager and maybe—dare Eddie think it—a little smitten, and he grabs Eddie’s hand to drag him somewhere a little more private, somewhere away from the catcalls coming at them from the circle of friends they’re leaving behind, who Eddie pays absolutely no mind to because finding the nearest clear surface he can crowd Steve against feels more important.
Eddie doesn’t know whose brilliant idea spin the bottle was, but he owes them a goddamn fruit basket.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#this one was fun!#it's also the last one I have to post for a bit but if you've sent in a prompt in the last week I'll work on it soon#eddiesteve#solar wrote#answers from solar#anonymous
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𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.
ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none.
ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐰. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝.
“No matter how many times people try to give hope to themselves, truth remains that this world is unfair. Unfair and cruel. But yet the human nature craves that security, that sense of “justice”, that feeling that allows it to rest at night, convincing it that no one ever goes unpunished for their wrongdoings. And that naïve human nature, fuels the cycle of order. The cycle of mass control and ultimate power over the masses. Because no matter how unfair life gets, there will always be a motherfucker who goes “oH, bUt nOt tO worRy, gOd wiLl pUnIsh tHem” or “tHeY wiLl spEnD eTernItY iN hElL.” or “kArMa wiLl gEt tHeM oNE dAy.”
And it’s always been like this. Since the beginning of humanity. Because that’s what gives human beings the hope and motivation to live, to go on. But yet…. no one seems to actually do something about this unfair world now do they? It’s always “life is unfair”, and “this world is cruel” and “people are soulless”, but nothing is done about it. People just let themselves be controlled by those on top. They don’t revolt, they never do. They obey like little sheep, living their tiny miserable little lives, with no courage to open their eyes and revolt against the cruelty that all of us have been forced to live in. But hey it’s okay. At least they’re safe and secure in their homes right? A place they can be themselves in.
Well, if they’re not living in war that is.
War. War is the main gear in the world’s clockwork. War is the physical manifestation of the hunger human nature has for power. War is the sheer difference between peace and chaos.
Do you ever wonder who are some of the people who suffer most in this world? Soldiers. Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty of assholes among soldiers. But some of us… some of us don’t deserve this. We go in the military, wanting to protect our people, to fight for what is right. But is there such thing as right? Are we really protecting? Or are we destroying?
Do you want to know how the game works? The game being a soldier’s life. Because that’s what our lives are. Games.
Well, let me tell you how it works. Let’s pretend that you’re a soldier. You sign up for the military. The first part of the game is very clear. You’re nothing but a pawn and you’ll remain a pawn until you play. The rules are very simple. Take what they give you, give away what you have to, and the difference is yours. The question is…. How big is the difference?
That’s what us soldiers live for. The difference. What we can make out of the war. What we can get out of it. Because what we can save from war…. Is ours. There are lots like me. We’re the actual players. Not the people who live their normal lives, no. They’re still pawns. We on the other hand have become players. Because on the one side of us soldiers, there are the cattle. You. Who let TV, and media, and religion do the thinking for you. And we’re supposed to fight for you, to protect you. While on our other side is power, who believe that we soldiers are shit at the bottom of their shoe and feeble minded cattle. Over on the barn these people on power, want us to take care of them, because a long time ago they gave up on themselves and now they won’t lift a single finger. So that is the game. In this world there are people who don’t care about themselves and there’s authority that doesn’t care about them either. And us soldiers, we are in the middle. We sorta owe something but to whom and what? That… we don’t know…”
The dim lights of the medical wing fall upon Y/N’s new body, giving a shine to her new and smooth striped blue skin, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her tail flicks slowly behind her, side to side, like a cobra sizing up its new prey that it has just set its sights on. Her new sharp, amber eyes, trace the outline of her nimble and slender fingers as they fidget and intertwine with each other. Her breathing is slow… her mind is still in a haze. She sits there on the bed she woke up in an hour ago, her elbows resting atop her knees, her head down, eyes focused in observing her new hands as she tests and stretches her new fingers. She hasn’t looked in the mirror yet. She’s afraid to. Afraid of what she will find. Her mind goes through her inner dialogue over and over and over again, like a broken record stuck in the record player of her brain.
“How big is the difference?”
“We owe something…. But to whom and what?”
“We’re not pawns…. We’re players…. Right…?”
She swallows the saliva that has pooled on top of her now larger tongue. Her throat seems to find some relief at this, the dry inside finally getting somewhat of a moisture. Her eyes dart to the mirror in the corner, her ears folding back in contemplation. No. She’s not ready to look yet. She swallows again.
Her ears pick up at a sound, the cartilage raising up in interest. Her sharp hearing being able to capture the faintest sounds in the distance. Looks like there’s chaos in another room, somewhere down the hallway. She can hear multiple people yelling, along with the rupture of objects being thrown. But the sound is faint, even for her now extraordinary hearing. So she pays no mind to it. She zones out the sounds, focusing back on her hands. She runs her eyes through them again, inspecting every pore, every claw-like plate of keratin at the tip of her slender fingers, every inch of skin covering the flesh. At least her hands haven’t changed their beautiful shape. Although she’s not very fond of the blue embedded in the cells of her skin. She inhales deeply, testing the capacity of her lungs. Her chest puffs up as her intercostal muscles and her diaphragm contract to enlarge her chest cavity for the expansion of her lungs. She holds her breath for a few seconds. And then exhales, closing her eyes.
Her tail keeps flicking slowly. Her eyes open and dart to the mirror again. No. Not yet. She closes her eyes yet again…. Wanting to go back in that deep sleep, where her mind is blank… dead… unaware and empty of what’s going on around this new alien body. She swallows again. Her body moves back, laying her back on the bed again. Her shoulders hurt from staying in the same position for one hour, a sharp pain shooting through her trapezius muscle. Or has it been one hour? She’s not sure. Her head falls back on the bed, eyes now moving up to see the same operating light she saw when her eyes opened up for the first time in this new world. But she wasn’t alone when that happened. She was surrounded by people in lab coats, gently trying to wake her up to life. Then when she was responsive, seeing that she was calm and quiet, they left her alone in the room. She keeps her legs out of the bed, her bare feet planted upon the cold tile of the room. At least the icy temperature provides her with something to feel, anything to take her out of this numbness. She closes her eyes again, her hands resting on top of her flat belly. She doesn’t like it. The muscle is too hard, too firm. Her breathing is slow, but steady. She runs through her inner dialogue again.
“War is the main gear in the world’s clockwork. War is the physical manifestation of the hunger human nature has for power.”
“Are we really protecting? Or are we destroying?”
She swallows again. Her ears try to pick up any sounds as her vision remains dark under her closed eyelids. Nothing. This time it’s quiet…..
A series of clicks make her eyes snap open. Her upper body jolts up, turning her head towards the sliding doors, tail raising straight up in alert. Amber eyes target with caution the piece of metal that slides open, body ready to pounce at any possible threat. As much smaller people walk in, she calms down. It’s them. The same people who woke her up. Her tail falls back down and her ears relax in their natural position. She eyes them up, carefully watching their movements, as the sliding doors close behind them. One walks up to her, standing just a few inches away from her knees. It’s a woman. She smiles under her glass mask, looking at Y/N with friendly eyes.
“Colonel L/N.” She says firmly, giving Y/N a warm smile. “We apologize for our absence. We had a situation with another Recombinant.”
Recombinant. That term is familiar to her. She has seen and heard it somewhere. But where…..
The woman continues.
“How are you feeling, Colonel?”
Y/N blinks a few times. She hums.
“Where am I? What is this?” She manages to say. Using her vocal chords for the first time. At least her voice hasn’t changed. It’s the same voice she remembers. A bit more raspy for the moment but, still the same.
The scientist answers.
“I understand your confusion Colonel, so let me explain. We’re in the Interstellar Vehicle Vindicator which is currently in the orbit of the planet Pandora. The Vindicator is tasked with transporting the team of Recombinant soldiers to Pandora, as part of General Frances Ardmore’s invasion fleet.”
Something clicks. Y/N’s pupils dilate as everything snaps back into to place, memories flooding her brain like a river. She remembers. She remembers.
Her breathing becomes rapid, tail flicking wildly behind her. Her eyes are wide, brain scrambling to process the vast amount of new information. At the sudden change in Y/N’s demeanor, the doctors become alert. Some of them back away in caution and fear, sedatives at the ready. They do not want another incident, like the one with the other Colonel just a few moments ago. And at least the other Colonel had his team to calm him down. This Recom however has no one. If she decides to lash out…
But she doesn’t.
She stays silent, taking rapid breaths, eyes wide as she stares shocked at the tiles underneath her bare feet. The doctors make eye contact with each other, unsure of how to approach the situation. The lead doctor clears her throat, attempting to speak to Y/N again.
“Colonel? Are you-“
“I remember.”
The doctors look at each other worriedly, exchanging alerted glances.
The Recombinant finally raises her head. Her gaze isn’t numb, unsure anymore. It’s the same gaze of the heartless, ruthless soldier. There’s that glint in her eyes. That glint of determination. That glint of pure confidence and sheer willpower as her amber eyes stare coldly at the lead doctor.
“I remember everything.”
She doesn’t like this no gravity shit. She can’t maneuver her body properly. Not that she could in the first place. She’s huge now. Standing at 7’8”, towering over the people below her. Well maybe towering isn’t the right word but still, she’s considerably taller. And bigger too. She kinda likes it. Gives her that physical intimidating leverage that she never had before. Just the fear in the scientists eyes when she stood up earlier was enough to put her in a good mood for now. It was funny. Seeing their expressions. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t enjoy that they feared her (maybe she did, just a little bit), it just made her smile a little at their wide eyes as she stared them down. At least she’s back in proper clothes now. The camo pants and tank top that they provided her with, feeling way more comfortable on her new body than the hospital gown that had left her bare ass exposed for the rest of the fucking world to feast their eyes upon. Although, her tail was a pain in the ass to get through that hole on her pants. It took her some minutes to figure out how to move the thing and to get it through that damn hole. Now it was flicking slowly behind her like it had a mind of its own. She moves her shoulders back once before relaxing them again. She doesn’t like the feeling of not having a bra on. Even with her new body, her bust is larger than a native woman’s usual proportions, and her plump breasts feel unsupported. I guess that’s what you get when your DNA is a mix and match between two species.
Her thoughts are interrupted as a human approaches the transparent screen that she’s currently holding onto for dear life in the zero gravity space. She watches as the man approaches and gives her a small polite smile.
“Colonel.” He says firmly. Y/N nods in acknowledgment, watching as the man fumbles with the screen. After a few seconds it lights up, displaying an image.
“Whenever you’re ready ma’am, you can start the recording.” The man explains politely, before floating away, leaving her alone once again. Her eyes are now focused on the screen before her. She stares at the icon of the paused recording. The young woman on the screen stares back at her, unmoving. Y/N takes a deep breath, eyeing the image. Black pupils trace the familiar features of the young Colonel on the screen. Her posture is straight, elbows leaning on top of the table, military uniform as neat and elegant as it can get. Her demeanor is one of confidence and calmness, the aura of someone who has full trust in themselves. The Recom wonders how she herself looks right now…. because she hasn’t gathered the courage to look in the mirror yet.
The Recom swallows, eyes darting at the corner of the screen, where the details of the recording are displayed. L/N. F/N initial. Fourteen years ago. The tip of her finger presses on the glass screen.
“Evening Colonel.” The woman greets with a confident smile, nodding once.
“I’m hoping this recording has found you well. Welcome to the world. Although it’s not the world you are acquainted with, similar rules still apply. I’m guessing that your memories should be back by now, but if that’s not the case then let me refresh them for you. I am Colonel F/N L/N, commander of a 14-man Marine Special Operations Team in the United States Marine Corps. And you Colonel, are my Recombinant. A clone of mine in the living and breathing form of a species of sapient humanoids called the Na’vi, who inhabit the lush moon of Pandora.”
Pandora…
The Recom swallows again, tongue running subconsciously over her newly obtained fangs.
“Two weeks ago a special order arrived for me. As I am currently speaking, a non-governmental organization in human space which goes by the name of The Resources Development Administration, or RDA, is preparing to fly a mission against a Na’vi stronghold. The man in charge of this mission goes by the name of Colonel Miles Quaritch, a RDA Security Operations commander, serving as the chief of security on Pandora, although currently serving as the senior RDA commander. In case things go south, the RDA is currently running a backup plan to restore and make sure that the minds of their best on world operators are not lost. This is known as The Recom Program, where a fully sentient hybrid soldier is embedded with the recorded memories and personality traits of an individual human. If this mission fails, this program will immediately be launched in preparation for a second invasion to re-establish the resource mining and colonizing operations on the exo-moon.” The woman on the screen pauses, eyes skimming over the camera before she continues.
“General Frances Ardmore has personally ordered for me to be apart of The Recom Program as well. I have never been to Pandora nor have I ever been acquainted with the RDA or Colonel Miles Quaritch. However, the General knows me personally and has insisted in me being apart of this program, so if time comes, my Recombinant will be there to assist her in taming the frontier in order to set up humanity's future home on Pandora, including to help her eleminate the resisting natives. And that is you, Y/N. My Recombinant. If you are seeing this then that means that Colonel Quaritch’s mission has failed and The Recom Program has been launched.”
The woman raises her hand, taking something from the table. She holds her hand in front of her and displays the object to the camera.
“This is a Soul Drive. My identity, skills, personality and memories have been uploaded into this special link device which will be sent to a lab that is currently engineering you in an amnio tank. You will be imprinted with the contents of this device, making you an essentially genetically modified clone of mine, inheriting my memories up to the time of the backup.”
Colonel L/N puts the object back on the table. She then turns to the camera again.
“Your squadron will be taken out of their amnio tanks shortly after you. You will be in charge of them, yet again. They are the Recombinants of the main operators of my 14-man Special Operations team, so you’re well familiar with them even though you haven’t met them yet. Your purpose is to assist General Frances Ardmore in taming the frontier in order to set up humanity's future home on Pandora, including to help her eliminate the resisting natives. Since I have no experience in the harsh and hostile environment of Pandora, neither do you. That will be a problem. You are not on Earth, you are in the harshest and most hostile environment in the entire Alpha Centauri System. It is going to be hard for you to adapt. However if you’re a clone of mine, with your extraordinary skills, uncanny instincts, the knowledge you have of Pandora, and unchecked determination, you will more than excel in that environment. Do not forget you are a combat-tracker, known for exceling in a fluid and volatile environment. You are a covert, jungle, desert and urban operator, sniper and saboteur, versed in a wide range of fieldcraft and tactical capability. You will not fail me Y/N, and I am sure of that.” The woman says confidently, raising per head slightly up, proudly.
“At the time that you see this recording, I may or may not be alive. A Marine’s life is never guaranteed, so neither is mine. However the case might be, I wish you the best in your mission and I place in you my most sincere and deepest trust.”
The Colonel pauses for a while. Her e/c eyes then look at the camera softly, staring deeply into the Recom’s eyes.
“Remember sweetheart…. You’re nothing but a pawn and you’ll remain a pawn until you play. Take what they give you, give away what you have to, and the difference is yours. Because the difference is what makes you the middle player between the cattle and power. Because that…. is the key to winning the game.”
And with that, the recording ends.
Title Explanation:
"The Few. The Proud. The Marines." has been used by the Marine Corps since 1977.
This slogan reflects the unique character of the Marine Corps and underscores the high caliber of those who join and serve their country as Marines.
ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ
#atwow#miles quaritch#miles quaritch x reader#avatar#avatar the way of water#atwow recoms#avatar recoms#miles quaritch smut#recoms#recoms x reader#recom smut#recombinant#avatar fanfiction#atwow fanfiction#smut#miles quaritch x y/n#miles quaritch x you
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People don't talk about yandere! Atsushi and yandere! Akutagawa and you know what, that's a real shame. Lucky you, I'm here to change that.
Tell you the truth, I feel like they both have a similar type of person they like - someone kind.
Neither one of them is used to any sort of kindness or goodness being extended towards them so this would be something that catches their attention immediately. While Chuuya and Dazai are a bit more complex with what kind of person they like, thus making it almost impossible for them to fall for the same person, Atsushi and Akutagawa aren't like that. They're simple people in their cores who only want some attention.
There's a good chance that you are nothing more than a civilian who's just living your best life and meeting either one of them was by pure chance. Atsushi is definitely the type who would fall for you if you just smiled at him and that smile would be engraved inside his mind for ages - did you really just smile at him? Him, Atsushi Nakajima?
Did he die and go to Heaven?
He's probably the type who would say "I should avoid them, I'm not good enough for them." only to accidentally follow you around town, oops. He is awkward and blushes like a schoolgirl but you always indulge him and never make fun of him. He was always met with kindness and understanding which never fails to make his limbs turn into jelly. Atsushi does his best to be there for you and he likes to be helpful in any way he can ie. carrying your bags for you, helping with chores, disposing of anyone who he thinks is a threat, all that good stuff!
Akutagawa though, he's... He's not quite so easy to woo. Well, he is but not in the same manner as Atsushi.
Those who kill better be prepared to be killed themselves, that is something that Akutagawa has said to himself since day one. He is aware of everything he does and knows all too well that with one wrong step or one bad encounter with the wrong person could end his bitter life in less than a second. He is a person who is used to conflict and abuse in any way, shape and form - just imagine how jarring it would be for him if he met someone who was genuinely nice.
Akutagawa prefers to take on solo missions so you might find him injured on the side of the street and offer yourself to help him but he is having none of it. He's limping and choking on his own blood but he keeps angrily mumbling that he is fine, he has been through worse and he does not need your stupid help.
That's what you are to him, stupid. Can't you take a hint? Leave him be. If he so wished he could tear you to shreds right where you stood, there would be nothing left of you and no one would be able to recognize you, no one to claim your body.
Just as he was about to voice out his thoughts those same words die on his tongue as he takes one good look at you and for a split second his heart is no longer his own. It leaps forward with an emotion he has never felt before as an overwhelming feeling of softness takes over.
Despite his gruff and honestly downright horrible attitude he is grateful to you. He owes you now and he kind of hates a little you because of that but that's besides the point.
Akutagawa makes no effort to be in your life like Atsushi but he lingers, almost like a shadow. Blink and you'll miss him, he always disappears into the crowd just before you even think about calling out to him, his only trace of even being there is his just barely visible black coat that flutters along with the wind as he casually strolls away to the opposite direction.
He would however take great offense if he saw you with Atsushi.
Bitter anger overcomes him as he spends his days following you and the weretiger around, a permanent scowl etched onto his face as he is forced to watch that stupid beast slobber all over you like a dog in heat. "He is pathetic and weak." Akutagawa thinks to himself.
"He could never protect you like I could."
He's playing dumb but Atsushi is aware that he is being followed especially if he is with you, his favorite person. His senses have never led him astray and he is quick to figure out the identity of the stalker. He's nervous, does he make the first move and confront Akutagawa? What does he even want? Days turn into weeks and Atsushi's patience is on thin ice, he has to know.
Strong as he is, Akutagawa was sloppy, tracking him was a cakewalk. He hid himself in the shadows close to the building you were currently in and was most likely waiting for you to exit.
His attack was swift and merciless, pinning Akutagawa to the ground was almost too easy. Naturally, Akutagawa's troublesome ability was quick to retaliate as Atsushi could feel Rashomon's sharp talons being pressed against his back meanwhile Atsushi's own claws nearly slit Akutagawa's throat.
They were neck and neck. Had they not been so close to so many civilians there was no doubt that a horrible brawl would have happened but due to their specific circumstances they called a truce... Barely.
If looks could kill Atsushi would be buried six feet under but he felt no fear, all he wanted was to understand what Akutagawa was doing. The man in black scoffs and turns his back to the weretiger, as if Atsushi was already supposed to know the answer.
"I am in their debt." he says as a matter of factly.
"I could never allow you out of all people to keep that person safe."
Oh his words stung... but Atsushi bit his tongue and calmly (read clenched teeth) asked for a proper explanation and after what felt like hours he finally got one.
Akutagawa has the emotional intelligence of a rock and Atsushi knows this. He is frustrated with the fact that Akutagawa wants to be so close to you but he knows he can't beat him nor can it happen the other way around.
There really was no getting out of this.
In that moment Atsushi made a split second decision that was either going to make his life Hell or maybe, just maybe, a little bit easier.
The two of them made a deal - they were both going to keep an eye out for you. Neither one could be too pushy or demanding, they needed to play fair.
As much as they hated each other they could at least agree that your safety was the most important thing of all.
🕊️ TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus
#yandere#yandere x reader#yancore#yanderecore#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere aesthetic#yandere akutagawa ryuunosuke#yandere akutagawa x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#yandere bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs#akutagawa ryuunosuke#bsd akutagawa#akutagawa x reader#akutagawa bsd#yandere akutagawa ryuunosuke x reader#yandere akutagawa#yandere atsushi nakajima x reader#yandere nakajima atsushi#yandere atsushi#nakajima atsushi#atsushi nakajima
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ignite your bones
After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.
Whumptober 2024: Day 14 - Left for dead
Warnings: attack, blood, violence, being jumped/being beaten
Word Count: 1.2k (gif not mine)
Summary: Maria and Clint sort out the mess that is Shield and Clint goes to make amends for not visiting Natasha.
Masterlist.
Whumptober Masterlist.
<3 thank you for the comments - I hope you know who you are. You all get a very big hug and/or a crisp high five. <3
.
Clint knocks twice.
Maria opens the door, rolling her eyes when she sees his offering.
“Really? Kung pow chicken?”
Clint waves it in front of her face.
“Fine, you can come in,” she concedes.
“How’d you go?”
Maria shrugs, closing the door behind them.
“I’ve been working with Fury, more so than before, and I like the way he operates. He’s methodical. We think we’re getting closer to a full list. He’s been working with the WSC, but I fear Thompson knows something is up.”
Clint nods.
“Coulson said the same thing, there’s been less debriefs and we haven’t been sent on any more missions. He said it’s because of Natasha’s intel, but I don’t think so.”
Maria opens the box and the smell infuses the room.
“God I’m hungry,” she sighs, “have you seen Natasha yet?”
Clint shakes his head, guiltily.
“I don’t have an answer. I don’t know what I want from her. I know what I want for her, but I don’t know what I want for me. How I fit.”
Quieter, he whispers, “I don’t know if I’m up to helping her.”
Maria throws a pen at him.
“You’re an idiot.”
Clint rubs the spot where the pen hit.
“Ow.”
“You’re an idiot,” she repeats.
“Of course you’re not up to helping her.”
The bluntness makes him stare at her.
“What I mean to say is, that no one is up to that task. Why do you think in AA it’s one day at a time? None of the problems that lead to the addiction can be solved overnight, none of the problems that have come from her trauma can be solved in a day, a week or a year. It’s never ending. So if you help? Even a little? It all adds up. Just be consistent. This will be long, but it's not forever.”
Clint eats thoughtfully.
Her words reverberate in his head, and hold a truth he hadn’t considered.
“Yeah.”
Standing Maria offers him a drink.
He accepts and sips it, looking at the paperwork she’s compiled.
“Shrike’s dirty?” he asks, surprised.
Maria nods.
“Yeah, that one surprised me too. I liked him.”
“How do you know?”
“Money,” she sighs.
“I hate this,” Clint replies, flipping through the pages.
“Better to have them out, rather than relying on them and getting us killed.”
“I know.”
There’s a mutual silence that envelops the room as both finish eating and start sorting evidence.
.
Fury furrows his brow.
The hologram on his left flickers, then his right, and finally the one in front of him.
“This is highly unorthodox,” the one in front of him frowns.
There’s a sense of unease, and Fury hopes that none of the people in front of him are in cahoots with the Russians.
It was unlikely, but not impossible.
He presents his evidence.
The pictures of Dreykov standing and shaking hands with Thompson, and the one where they’re sitting at a table seemingly in a meeting, feel particularly damning.
Maria had done a good job making the information simple and concise, explaining the impact on the Council and all it stood for.
They’d need their resources if they were to have any chance at deposing Thompson.
Fury finishes on the plan for quiet infiltration. That each member would just… disappear and be replaced, to serve as a warning; he hoped.
The woman seated for the Oceania region nods along. She also fills in some gaps.
“We’ve long since suspected there was a mole in SHIELD,” she announces. “I am willing to back your cause.”
“Seconded,” comes another voice.
“Your motion is passed. We will provide the munitions and men you have asked for. The Raft will be set up for interrogation and imprisonment.”
Fury nods, pleased.
This was a good play, and he would tell Maria as such.
“Be careful,” the faceless woman tells him.
“We will be in touch.”
.
Clint walks the familiar route to see Natasha. The bag of donuts in his hand is a peace offering for not seeing her the past week.
Guilt presses down on him for it, but the reprieve and recalibration of himself was needed.
Now set up with a therapist, again, he knows that he can do better because he can show up for her.
It’s not an excuse. It's a fact.
Sharon isn’t on watch and a man he doesn’t know waves him through.
Clint doesn’t like it, but he hasn’t been here enough lately to know all the guards on rotation.
He continues on, wondering how she’s going.
A week had probably felt like a lifetime.
Maria had checked in, so had Coulson, even Fury; their report visits were minimalistic because of the circumstances.
Maria had said she was quiet.
He hopes it’s been okay.
He rounds the last corner and finds her sitting on the floor staring straight ahead.
He would say that she’s meditating.
She doesn’t move as he comes into view, she doesn’t even acknowledge him.
He waves to open the door, but nothing happens.
He looks up to the camera and waves again, not wanting to go back to see what’s happened.
Natasha is watching now.
Sharp eyes look on as he holds up donuts and smiles.
Clint hears footsteps down the hall. Automatically, he turns and sees it is the guard from down the hall, another man with him.
“Hey,” Clint greets.
They don’t return it.
The first lengthens his baton, the second shoots a taser, hitting Clint in the chest.
Pain and electricity alights his body as he tips forward.
He watches as it happens with a detachment, unable to react except to drop the donuts.
Natasha moves to the glass.
They close on him quickly.
The baton hits him, first in the body, then in the legs.
The second man just using fists.
They hit hard. They hit fast.
The beating is rough. Clint feels his breath taken away between blows and he curls himself up into a ball.
If he can wait...
If he can get control of one of them...
A blow to the head distorts time, and pain, never ending pain, radiates out. White, hot, searing pain.
He can’t hear their yelling.
His nose is bleeding, blood in his throat.
Natasha, he thinks idly, they’re going after her.
He hazards a glance up and sees her pounding on the glass. Her lips are moving, knuckles split and bleeding as she tries to break it.
It’s no use, he wants to tell her, it’s too thick.
But still she tries.
There’s a break as one of the men pauses. Clint has enough wherewithal to grabthe baton and pull it towards him.
He knows his ribs are broken.
Probably his face too.
His arm maybe from protecting his body.
Still he tries.
But the next blow feels like a car hits him.
He yells out.
As he fades into darkness, all he sees is Natasha yelling and punching the glass, blood on the wall, blood on the floor.
#whumptober2024#day 14#left for dead#violence#Clint Barton fic#natasha romanoff#Clint Barton#clintasha#natasha romanoff fic#black widow#my fic#Clintasha fanfic#hawkeye#clintasha fanfiction#clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff#Maria hill#Maria hill fic#marvel fic#avengers fic
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I owe everyone a big apologies. For disappearing suddenly and leaving my novel. I don't know if my followers are still active or not. I just sometimes checked my friends. Now it's time for my confession. I used exams as an excuse to justify my long absence from this fandom. But the issue was much bigger. The truth was that I was mentally unstable. The reason was the bad behavior I received from someone in this fandom. I always thought that when adults are in a fandom, their goal is to have fun, not to threaten each other. Maybe you consider my behavior childish or tell me that I should not make a big deal about such a small issue. But please understand that not all people can be as strong as you. Maybe some people are sensitive, especially when they receive a threat from someone because their favorite ship is different. I don't like to mention anyone's name because I don't want this drama to be big, but this person has hurt my friends before too. There is absolutely no way to justify this person's bad behavior. This person imposes their opinions on others and even threatens others. Now you can understand why I was mentally unstable.
In any case, I thought a lot. My decision was to leave the fandom without telling anyone. I even decided to stop my activity slowly so that no one would notice my absence. I even briefly went back to an old blog of mine that was for the Miraculous fandom, but now I realized something. DL is not the first fandom that I worked in, so at first I thought that I did not belong to it, but when I was away from DL, I realized that DL fandom was like home for me. I've been in a lot of fandoms before, but none have brought me as much joy as DL. Maybe the reason is Yui. Yui gives me the feeling of life. So far no MC has given me.
That's why I realized that even if I try to stay away from DL, Yui will still bring me back. She takes me back home. DL has always been like home to me. I decided to come back. I want to continue my novel again. But the previous events still remain in my mind and scare me a little. That's why I want to turn off the anon box for now. I hope you understand that I mentally need to do this work.
And I want to thank my friend Irsa @its-irsaa-fyp . I have already discussed this problem with her. She was the only one who knew, but I hid everything from her after that because I didn't want her to be upset more than that. I wish this fandom was full of people like her. Sweet and kind hearted. Thank you for being my friend. I really love you sweetie <3.
I'm back both mentally and physically. I love Yui. I can't leave her. I love my friends. I can leave them. I love my home. DL is always my home and I can't leave it.
I don't know how many people are waiting for my novel and if anybody cares. Soon I will start continuing it. I love you :3
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𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝘂𝘀..?-𝟮𝟲-(The Fox's Wedding)
Mentions of Blood!
Words:2238
You stood there, your breath shallow, eyes locked on Hoolay as he revealed the secrets of the woman who held so much sway over Jiaoqiu's life. Her name wasn't one you needed to utter, but the weight of it pressed down on your chest as if her story had intertwined with your own.
Jiaoqiu stood beside you, tense, his face pale as Hoolay unraveled the truth he had feared to confront for so long. The healer's eyes were wide with shock, pain flickering across his features as Hoolay spoke of the great battle on the Xianzhou Fanghu and the dark revelation of her borisin bloodline. His lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but no words came out.
Hoolay's laughter, cold and biting, broke the silence. "So, she saved you all those years ago, yet you discovered her true nature while she lay at death's door. How ironic. A war slave escaping from the Eclipse Pack only to end up with a foxian like you. And even more amusing—she's of my clan. The same blood flows through her veins as mine."
Mok Tok stepped forward, eyes gleaming with disdain. "A mutt," he sneered. "Despicable mutt. No wonder she fought with such power and cruelty. It wasn't determination or skill; it was her bloodline. The Moon Rage in her veins... she wasn't even fighting for herself. She was fighting to destroy us."
You felt your hands clench involuntarily, anger simmering beneath the surface as Mok Tok's words dug into the truth like a jagged knife. But you didn't move, not yet.
Hoolay's voice slithered through the silence once again. "Moon Rage—a blessing for wolves, but a curse for foxes. It gives us strength, but to the foxians, it's a death sentence. And your general, that proud foxian, she'll lose herself to it one day. The scars she bears won't be from her enemies; they'll be from her own power, tearing her apart from the inside until nothing remains."
You glanced at Jiaoqiu, watching his face tighten with emotion, his fists shaking ever so slightly. There was pain, deep and consuming, in the way he stood there, rigid and silent, processing every word Hoolay spoke.
You stepped forward, the sound of your boots against the stone floor drawing everyone's attention back to you. Hoolay's gaze shifted, meeting yours with that same amused smirk, waiting for your reaction.
"She never saved me," you said, voice low but steady. "I don't owe her anything. But if she's important to Jiaoqiu..." Your eyes flicked toward the healer, then back to Hoolay. "Then she's important to me."
Hoolay's smirk faltered, just for a moment, as if he hadn't expected such a simple, cutting response. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying your face for signs of doubt, but there were none. You had spoken the truth, and he knew it.
"You're really something, aren't you?" Hoolay's voice held an edge of disbelief now, as if he couldn't quite wrap his mind around your resolve. "Strange... to see someone care so deeply for another's cause without personal gain. What drives you to such loyalty?"
You stared back, unflinching, your voice gaining strength. "This isn't about loyalty, Hoolay. This is about not letting you—" you pointed at him, your hand trembling with barely contained fury, "—or anyone like you tear apart what's left of the people we care about. You think you're invincible because of your bloodline? You think this power makes you untouchable?"
Hoolay's smirk deepened, though his eyes remained cold, glittering with malice. "And what do you plan to do about it? Stand there and make more threats?"
You took another step forward, your pulse quickening. "This isn't a threat, Hoolay. It's a promise. One day, you'll regret every twisted game you've played with us. And when that day comes, when you're left with nothing but the agony you've inflicted on others—" your voice lowered, venomous, "—you'll remember me."
Hoolay stared at you for a long moment, his smile slowly fading, replaced by something darker. Something unreadable. He turned his gaze briefly to Jiaoqiu, eyes narrowing at the healer's expression. There was fear in Jiaoqiu's eyes—fear for the woman he cared about, fear for the future—but there was something else there, too. A spark of determination, a flicker of hope, perhaps.
Your fists clenched tighter, but before you could react, Hoolay turned away, his back to both of you. "But I suppose I should thank you. You've made this all too clear for me." His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Weakness... is always the first to be crushed."
Jiaoqiu's breath hitched, but you stepped forward, fists trembling as the rage boiled over once again.
"I'll tear you apart before you ever get that chance," you growled, voice steady and filled with conviction.
The room was thick with tension, the air charged with a sense of impending doom. Jiaoqiu's voice cut through the silence, raw and filled with anguish.
"Hoolay... do you know the saddest thing about being a healer?" Jiaoqiu's words trembled with emotion. "All this time, I've devoted my life to bringing back those who sacrificed their lives to monsters like you. I exhausted myself, and my hands trembled, but I believed everything I did was meaningful..."
His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked lost, as if grappling with the weight of countless deaths that had slipped through his fingers.
"But once again," Jiaoqiu continued, his gaze fixed on Hoolay, "they rushed into battle, and then I heard of their deaths. They died under your claws, in your jaws, amidst the flames of crashing starskiffs, and under the Lux Arrow of Reignbow..."
He swallowed hard, his face etched with pain. "Like a useless idiot, I saved a fish named 'Life' out of the cauldron called 'Death,' only to watch it struggle and dive back into the boiling broth."
Jiaoqiu's voice became a desperate whisper, as if he were speaking to himself more than to anyone else. "So I asked myself, why were they so eager to run toward their death after they had recovered from their wounds? Why wouldn't they value their hard-won life? All the doubts left me feeling lost..."
Hoolay's lips curled into a sinister smirk. "Heh... I can smell your desperation, all the way down to your bone marrow."
Jiaoqiu looked at Hoolay with fierce resolve. "Eventually, I realized that their deaths held value. They placed the weight of their sacrifice on the living, granting us strength. With a coin forged by their deaths, they exchanged something more in return..."
His eyes burned with a fierce intensity. "Everything I'm doing now, following you so closely, is for just one reason: witnessing your death with my own two eyes..."
Jiaoqiu's gaze was unwavering, even as his voice became a solemn promise. "Even your death has value. It will pave the way for a peaceful Wardance and a fully cured Feixiao."
Hoolay's amusement was palpable, though he regarded Jiaoqiu with a measure of respect. "Hmph, the thoughts in your pathetic head are hardly surprising."
"Did you already know this?" Jiaoqiu asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.
"Yes, I did," Hoolay replied with a cold edge. "As borisin, we understand the value of 'death' more than anyone. And as a healer who has witnessed so much death, you won't be swayed by fear."
A trace of genuine respect flickered in Hoolay's eyes, though it was quickly masked by his usual disdain. "What a shame. What a shame. Your story actually sparked a trace of respect for you in my heart."
Jiaoqiu's eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Can you even feel 'respect'... with your corrupted heart?"
"Of course," Hoolay said, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Because I caught a whiff of my own kind in you. Unfortunately, in the end, you're still just a weak fox."
Hoolay's gaze grew colder, and he recited the Wolf's Creed with a chilling conviction. "As the Wolf's Creed goes: Gift the wolf a dead end, where new paths arise. Raise him to a doomed fate, where satiation lies. The cowards, in forgotten corners, meet their unworthy demise. Yet the valorous, in brutal battles, embrace their eternal prize..."
"You see," Hoolay continued, "that's why I'm keeping you alive for now. I want to show you how borisin truly respect their enemies. We will consume your flesh and blood, nourishing our own. We will crush your hopes and dreams, clearing a path for our hunt! Your feeble souls will witness a new future, a future that belongs to me!"
The sudden interruption by Mok Tok snapped everyone's attention away. "My Lord! We've received a message. Our arrangement at Stargazer Navalia has been discovered. We must act quickly!"
Hoolay's face hardened. "That doesn't surprise me at all."
Mok Tok's voice was edged with panic. "It's the Skysplitter. The ship that the Wardance will be held on is about to set off! The Sky-Faring Commission will clear the air routes! And if our starskiffs try to escape, we'll be spotted."
"Calm down, Mok Tok!" Hoolay snapped, his tone dismissive. "Look at you now, hiding and fearful... Where is your borisin dignity?"
"As I said, I'd sacrifice my dignity for your return!" Mok Tok's voice trembled with desperation. "As long as you can come back to the borisin packs, there's still hope!"
Hoolay's eyes glinted with disdain. "Hope? The borisin have forgotten the Wolf's creed! Weak creatures put their hope in the strong, but the strong fight their way out! Bringing me back instead of choosing a new master only proves the decline of our pack. And as for the prophet who manipulated you into saving me, she's just a liar trying to use Duran's offspring!"
He turned to Mok Tok with a commanding presence. "Mok Tok, let me tell you how the borisin will rise to power! We won't hide like rats in the streets of the Xianzhou! We will be ravenous wolves, walking amidst a herd of lambs with our fangs bared."
Mok Tok's eyes widened with panic. "But Great Warhead, our packs are not here! We can't go to war like this!"
"Our packs are not here?" Hoolay's voice took on a menacing edge. "Wherever I go, everyone is the pack!"
The scene shifted to a cutscene, the tension crackling like electricity.
As the cutscene ended, Hoolay's voice boomed with authority. "Mok Tok, we're the apex predators at the top of the hierarchy. As wolves, we create fear. We don't become servants to it. If you're blind to the path, I will be the crimson moon that lights the way for you."
He turned to his followers. "Share my crimson blood with our brethren! Use it to infect those foxians and strike fear into their hearts!"
Suddenly, Hoolay's gaze shifted to Moze, who had emerged from the shadows. "Now, you devious monkey... Come out and face me!"
Moze's voice was low and steady. "Jiaoqiu."
Jiaoqiu's voice was strained. "Moze... run..."
But Hoolay's cold laugh cut through the air. "No, he can't run, and neither can you. You've come at the right time, monkey of the Yaoqing. Tell your general—"
He paused, a menacing gleam in his eyes. "Tell her that I will unleash a massacre here, drowning the Xianzhou Luofu in blood. From this moment on, wolves bearing my blood will hunt on every street, feasting on the followers of that Devilish Archer."
Hoolay raised his voice, commanding his followers. "Follow me, my cubs! We shall stride among the prey!"
The chilling chant from Mok Tok and the Wolftrooper echoed through the room, "Gift the wolf a dead end, where new paths arise. Raise him to a doomed fate, where satiation lies. The cowards in forgotten corners, meet their unworthy demise. Yet the valorous, in brutal battles, embrace their eternal prize..."
Hoolay's eyes gleamed with a savage light. "Do you hear that? The rumble of the cannons... it brings back all the memories of the past battles within me..."
He turned to Jiaoqiu and you, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "My return will bring back the Wolf's Creed. In my own way, I shall save our weakened pack and restore it to its former glory!"
The intensity of the scene was overwhelming, and you felt yourself collapsing to the ground, your body trembling uncontrollably. Tears streamed down your face, but they weren't ordinary tears. They were crimson, mixing with the blood from your wounds, staining your cheeks in a grotesque display of anguish.
Jiaoqiu, his eyes wide with alarm, reached out to catch you, but you pulled away, forcing yourself to stand. The effort was painful, your knees shaking, but you managed to rise. The sight of your bloodied tears made the realization sink in—the depth of your own despair was laid bare.
You felt a crushing weight, a blend of helplessness and fury that was almost unbearable. As you looked at Hoolay, your gaze was fierce despite the tears staining your face. You were crying blood.
Mei..
Mei, Help me...
Jiaoqiu's eyes were filled with concern as he watched you, but he said nothing. He knew that you had found a new strength amidst the chaos, even as you battled through your own pain.
Hoolay's gaze fell on you, his expression a mixture of amusement and contempt. "So, the little kitsune shows its true colors. You're weak, crying blood, but you have spirit. How interesting."
He turned his attention back to Jiaoqiu, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "And now, healer, you see the truth of our power. How long will you and your allies cling to hope when faced with the reality of our strength?"
You wanted to find Moze, But he was nowhere...Why? He could have Jiaoqiu...
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