#and then says she made it up. which makes me so upset

[bueckersleftbraid]

”— Not For Real

WC: just abt 4.0k (trust it’s good even tho it’s short)

paring: pazzi ofc 🤗

warnings: ummm fluff, fake dating, rom com ass moments, paige lowkey being stupid

authors notes —> hi!! here is this. I sort of love it so I hope you do too! I wrote this quick so my apologies for how short it is but it’s very cutesy

THE PITCH

The coffee shop was nearly empty except for a few students buried in their laptops and an older couple sharing a newspaper by the window. Paige slid into the booth, her cheeks still pink from the cold outside, a takeout cup in one hand and skepticism written all over her face.

Azzi was already there, lounging like she owned the place, one leg crossed over the other and an unread book open in front of her like a decoy. Her sunglasses were perched unnecessarily on top of her head, her dark curls pulled back in a loose bun. She didn’t look frantic or upset — not the way her text had sounded— “Emergency. Meet me at Haven. Bring caffeine.”

“Alright,” Paige said, plunking her drink down. “I came. I caffeinated. What’s the ‘emergency’?”

Azzi gave her a look, one brow quirked, the corners of her mouth twitching like she was holding back a grin. Paige didn’t trust that expression. Azzi was rarely panicked. Calculated? Yes. Hyper-competitive? Definitely. But desperate?

Something was up.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Paige blinked. “You—what?”

Azzi didn’t flinch. “Just for a few weeks.”

Paige sat back, stunned. “This is a joke.”

“I’m completely serious.”

There was a silence between them, the kind that stretched and pulled like taffy. Paige stared, trying to figure out if Azzi had finally lost it.

Azzi’s tone was matter-of-fact. “My sister’s wedding is in three weeks. My parents are hosting half the extended family. And last year—because I was being cornered by four aunties asking why I was single—I might’ve said I was dating someone. Someone serious.”

“Oh my God.”

“I didn’t say it was you,” Azzi added quickly. “But now they want to meet her. And I panicked. And I may have shown them a photo from our joint charity game last summer. You looked good.”

“You—what?”

“I didn’t think they’d remember! But now they’re asking if you’re coming. And since I hate lying—”

“You’re literally lying right now,” Paige interrupted.

“—I figured it’s less lying if it’s you,” Azzi said, flashing a smile that could only be described as weaponized charm.

Paige stared at her like she’d grown another head.

She and Azzi had never been friends, not exactly. Their relationship existed in a gray area between reluctant allies and rivals. They knew each other’s weak spots. They pushed each other during games, sparred during interviews, and occasionally made nice at league events. There had always been tension there — a kind that hovered just on the edge of something else.

But this?

“Why me?” Paige asked finally.

Azzi didn’t answer immediately. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. Her expression turned serious — sincere in a way that Paige rarely saw from her.

“Because you can handle it,” she said. “My family can be… intense. They’ll ask questions. They’ll pry. I need someone who’s smart, quick, and can improvise. You’re the only person I trust not to crack.”

Paige felt a strange flicker of pride at that, which she quickly smothered. She hated how Azzi’s approval always stirred something in her.

“I don’t know,” Paige said, eyeing her warily. “What’s in it for me?”

Azzi smiled, like she’d been expecting that.

“I’ll owe you. Big time. I’ll even owe you publicly, if you want. You name the favor. I’ll make it happen.”

Paige took a slow sip of her latte, weighing her options. She could walk away. Tell Azzi she was out of her mind and let her deal with the fallout.

But instead, she said, “I want your warm-up playlist.”

Azzi went still.

“…You’re not serious.”

“I am deadly serious,” Paige replied. “The one you play with the wireless earbuds. The one you turn off the second someone gets too close. You give me that playlist, and I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Azzi looked betrayed. “That’s like—sacred. That’s mine.”

Paige smirked. “Then maybe you should’ve asked someone else to fake date you.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath and stared down at her coffee like it had betrayed her too. Then she sighed, reached into her bag, and pulled out her phone.

She scrolled, tapped, and then held it out. “You’re the worst.”

“I try,” Paige said, gleefully accepting the transfer.

There was a strange beat of silence after that, as if both of them realized this was no longer hypothetical. Azzi sat back, a little too calm again.

“So,” Paige said cautiously, “how exactly does this work?”

Azzi raised a brow. “We ease into it. Coffee shops, casual photos, a couple of public run-ins. We soft-launch the relationship by next weekend. Then the wedding. A few smiling family photos. Some lingering looks. Maybe even a dance. Two weeks after that, we stage a quiet breakup. Friendly. Mutual. Devastatingly mature.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’ve thought this through.”

Azzi gave her a crooked grin. “You have no idea.”

THE ACT

Fake dating, Paige quickly realized, required a surprising amount of coordination.

There were rules, schedules, contingencies. Texts needed timestamps. Stories had to match. They spent an entire afternoon building a believable relationship history — from their “first coffee after a preseason scrimmage” to their “accidental slow dance at a teammate’s birthday party.” Paige had never spent so much time with Azzi without the sound of sneakers squeaking on hardwood in the background.

And somehow, being around her without the structure of basketball— just sitting close on a couch, laptops open, occasionally stealing each other’s fries— felt more intimate than anything else they’d ever done.

It was during brunch on the first Saturday of the plan that things started to feel…off.

Not bad off. Just different.

Their table was tucked into the corner of a sunlit café that Paige didn’t usually frequent— the kind of place with overpriced avocado toast and artisanal jam in tiny glass jars. She kept checking the window, half-expecting someone to recognize them.

Azzi, meanwhile, looked utterly unbothered. 

She was dressed in a soft brown sweater that brought out the warm undertones in her skin, her hair loose for once, curls brushing her shoulders. She’d insisted on sitting next to Paige instead of across from her — “Couples sit side-by-side. Optics.” — and now, her knee kept brushing Paige’s beneath the table like it was nothing.

It was not nothing.

Paige was hyper-aware of every point of contact: the press of Azzi’s shoulder, the occasional light touch on her wrist when Azzi laughed at something she said. And then there was the moment— the one Paige didn’t know how to explain— when Azzi reached across the table and gently, casually, brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“Missed a spot,” she said, voice low, like it was just for her.

Paige stared, momentarily frozen. She barely managed a sarcastic “Thanks, Mom,” just to defuse the tension in her own chest.

Azzi only smirked.

Then— in full view of the table across from them— she reached down and laced her fingers through Paige’s.

Paige’s pulse jumped.

“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath.

Azzi tilted her head. “Handholding. Basic public display. You want this to be convincing, right?”

“This is—” Paige trailed off, unable to find a word that didn’t sound like denial. Her fingers stayed tangled in Azzi’s for a beat longer than necessary before she forced herself to look away.

Convincing. Right. This was just for show.

But it felt like something else.

____

Later that evening, they found themselves scrolling through Instagram together on Azzi’s couch, reviewing what Azzi referred to as “launch content.” It had been Paige’s idea to soft-launch their relationship through stories and casual posts — enough to stir curiosity without a hard announcement. “Let the public fill in the blanks,” she’d said. “It’ll feel more real if people think they caught it happening.”

Azzi had been disturbingly into that idea.

“Okay,” Paige said, reviewing a photo Azzi had taken earlier — the two of them walking away from the café, arms looped together. It was slightly blurry, clearly taken from behind. “This one looks stolen. Paparazzi vibe.”

“Good,” Azzi said. “Tag it or leave it?”

Paige sighed. “Leave it. Keep them guessing.”

Azzi grinned, but her voice was quieter when she added, “You’re good at this.”

Paige didn’t look up. “At lying to the world?”

“At making it believable,” Azzi said. “Too believable, maybe.”

There was a silence between them.

Paige felt it stretch again — like the space between words you want to say but don’t know how to. The room was warm, too warm, and she suddenly became very aware of the fact that they were sitting closer than strictly necessary.

She risked a glance over.

Azzi was already looking at her.

Paige swallowed hard. “You’re kind of good at this, too.”

Azzi arched a brow. “Kind of?”

Paige shook her head, eyes flicking away.“Unfairly good.”

A smirk tugged at Azzi’s lips, but she didn’t press. Instead, she nudged Paige’s knee lightly with her own. “Don’t overthink it, Bueckers. Just follow my lead.”

That sentence echoed in Paige’s head for the rest of the night.

____

The first real test came the following weekend— a casual dinner with some of Azzi’s extended family visiting early for the wedding.

Paige had told herself she was prepared. She’d practiced their story, remembered names, even rehearsed a few go-to anecdotes. But nothing prepared her for the way Azzi introduced her:

“This is Paige,” Azzi had said, voice softening at the edges. “She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

It shouldn’t have hit Paige in the chest the way it did. But the pride in Azzi’s voice, the way she slipped an arm around her waist like it was second nature, it all felt too natural.

Too easy.

“You’re even prettier in person,” Azzi’s aunt said with a warm smile, making Paige blush hard enough to want to hide under the table.

“She is, isn’t she?” Azzi replied, grinning, and Paige gave her a warning glance that Azzi absolutely ignored.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation, wine, and shared glances that lingered a little too long. At one point, someone brought up future plans — careers, cities, and timelines — and Paige heard herself say something about “we’re figuring things out,” and Azzi didn’t correct her.

She just nodded. Like it was true.

Like it could be.

That night, after the guests had gone and they were back on the couch, Paige kicked off her heels and flopped backward with a groan. “I deserve an Oscar.”

Azzi collapsed next to her, eyes half-lidded from wine and exhaustion. “They love you already.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“You were perfect,” Azzi said quietly, not teasing for once. “Natural.”

Paige turned her head to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Sometimes I forget we’re faking it.”

Paige’s breath caught.

For a moment, the room felt too still. The words hung between them like something fragile — something dangerous.

“Don’t,” Paige said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t what?” Azzi asked.

“Don’t say stuff like that unless you mean it.”

Azzi looked at her. Really looked. Then — just as softly — said, “Maybe I do.”

Paige didn’t answer.

She didn’t move.

She just let the words sit there, tucked between them on the couch, daring her to pick a side.

THE SHIFT

Paige had faced playoff pressure before. She’d stood at the free throw line with a championship on the line, heard arenas scream her name, stared down defenders with everything at stake.

And still, nothing made her feel quite as unsteady as walking into Azzi’s childhood home.

The place was beautiful — all warm wood and framed memories, the scent of something sweet in the air — but it wasn’t the house itself that threw her.

It was the fact that everyone knew who she was.

“Oh my god, the girlfriend!”

“You’re even cuter than the photos!”

“I heard she plays just as well as Azzi — is that true?”

“Do you want to see baby pictures?!”

Azzi watched it all unfold with thinly veiled amusement, her arm a steady presence at Paige’s back. She was too calm. Too smooth. Like she’d always known Paige would say yes. Like she’d planned for this exact moment.

Paige leaned toward her as soon as they had a sliver of privacy in the hallway. “Your family’s intense.”

“I warned you,” Azzi said with a smirk, then added, “You’re handling it like a pro.”

“I’m dying inside.”

Azzi bumped her shoulder. “You look great while doing it.”

The rehearsal dinner was the first real blow.

Paige had worn a soft cream dress that Azzi couldn’t seem to stop staring at — not that she ever said anything outright, just a glance too long when Paige wasn’t looking, or a compliment murmured so low it felt like a secret.

They sat together at the head table, posing for casual couple photos, telling rehearsed stories about “how we met” and “our first date,” laughing too easily, leaning in like magnets.

But it was during the toasts— when the groom’s brother started talking about soulmates— that Paige glanced over and caught Azzi watching her.

Not with amusement. Not with performance.

But with something soft. Bare. Real.

It was the kind of look no one gives unless they mean it.

Paige looked away, heart thudding in her chest, guilt bubbling like carbonation in her ribs. This was fake. This was supposed to stay fake.

But suddenly, she didn’t know if Azzi had ever drawn the line. And worse — she didn’t know if she had either.

____

That night, in the guest room down the hall, Paige lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

She thought of how Azzi had casually brushed her hair over her shoulder earlier. Of the way she’d poured her wine without asking. Of how she’d reached for Paige’s hand in the dark when no one was watching.

This was the most dangerous part of the lie: the moments that didn’t serve the story. The things that weren’t for anyone else.

And then came the knock.

Soft. Hesitant.

She sat up. “Yeah?”

Azzi peeked through the door. She wasn’t in her dress anymore— just a pair of shorts and an old tee, her curls pulled back loosely, her expression unreadable. “You decent?”

“Depends on your definition,” Paige said, forcing a weak smile.

Azzi stepped in and leaned against the doorframe. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Paige watched her carefully. “Me either.”

There was a long pause.

Azzi broke it, quietly. “Can I tell you something?”

Paige nodded.

“I didn’t think this would get to me.” Azzi looked down, fiddling with a ring on her finger. “It was supposed to be simple. Clean. Controlled.”

“But it’s not.”

“No,” Azzi said. “It’s not.”

Paige felt her heart tug, just a little. “You’re not the only one.”

Azzi looked up at that— eyes locking onto hers, something raw flickering behind them. “When I look at you, Paige…” She stopped. Swallowed. “I forget we’re faking it.”

Paige didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

She just sat there, frozen, every nerve in her body firing at once.

Azzi crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that Paige could see the tension in her shoulders. “You can tell me to stop. You can tell me it’s just a role. But I need you to know I’m not pretending anymore.”

Silence.

A long one.

Then, quietly— like a truth Paige had been holding in for days— she said, “I don’t want to pretend either.”

Azzi’s eyes searched hers. “You mean that?”

Paige nodded, voice shaking. “Yeah. I do.”

____

The next day was chaos. Wedding prep. Final fittings. Tears and champagne and frantic flower girls. But somehow, through it all, Paige and Azzi found pockets of stillness.

A touch on the back as they passed each other.

A whispered joke during a photo session.

A look— held too long— when no one else was looking.

By the time the dance floor opened and Azzi reached for her hand, Paige didn’t hesitate.

They danced slow. Intimate. Their arms wrapped around each other like second nature.

“Everyone’s watching,” Paige murmured, her cheek brushing Azzi’s.

Azzi’s hand tightened at her waist. “Let them.”

“I feel like we’re supposed to kiss or something.”

Azzi paused. “Do you want to?”

Paige pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Not because we’re supposed to. Only if it’s real.”

Azzi looked at her like she’d already made that choice.

And then, quietly, deliberately— she kissed her.

Soft at first. Like a question. Then with more certainty, like she already knew the answer.

When they pulled apart, Paige didn’t look away.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” she whispered.

Azzi smiled. “Good.”

____

The kiss didn’t shatter anything.

It settled something. Quiet and unforced, it slipped between them like a puzzle piece finally falling into place. Not a performance, not a statement— just Paige and Azzi, wrapped in music and low light, eyes closed to the world and open only to each other.

And then, slowly, the moment passed.

They pulled apart, breath brushing between them, eyes locked. Paige blinked first.

Someone behind them cheered— not for them, for the newlyweds— and the real world came rushing back.

But nothing about them felt fake anymore.

They didn’t talk about the kiss right away.

Paige needed space to think. She slipped away from the reception after midnight, half-drunk on champagne and adrenaline, and found herself sitting on the venue’s back steps, heels dangling from her hand.

She was running her thumb over the lip of a glass when Azzi found her.

“You always disappear after the good parts,” Azzi said, voice soft as she stepped into the night.

Paige didn’t look over. “Wasn’t sure if it was a good part.”

Azzi sat beside her. Close, but not touching. “It was for me.”

That quiet admission settled in Paige’s chest like warmth in cold hands.

She exhaled. “I don’t know where the line is anymore.”

Azzi didn’t speak for a moment. Then, “I think it’s gone.”

Paige finally turned to look at her.

Azzi’s hair was wind-tousled, cheeks flushed from dancing. Her eyes, though, were steady. “This stopped being fake a while ago. We just didn’t want to be the first to say it.”

Paige bit her lip. “And now?”

“Now I want to know what it looks like when it’s not a performance.”

There was no crowd to play to here. No family. No cameras. Just moonlight, soft music from inside, and two people trying to find their footing.

“I’m scared it’s not different enough,” Paige admitted. “That it’ll feel the same, and somehow that’ll make it less real.”

Azzi reached for her hand. “Then we make it different.”

“How?”

“Let’s start with this.” Azzi’s voice was calm but certain. “Tomorrow— no stories. No setups. We go on a real date. Just you and me.”

“No pretending?”

“No pretending.”

Paige nodded slowly, almost like a dare to herself. “Okay.”

Azzi smiled. “Okay.”

____

They danced again before the night ended.

Not for show, not for pictures. Just the two of them, alone near the edge of the floor, slow-swaying to a song no one else was paying attention to. Azzi’s arms were loose around her waist, and Paige let her forehead rest against Azzi’s collarbone.

No eyes on them.

No script.

No lie.

Just a beginning — unspoken, but undeniably real.

THE RAIN

The wedding glow didn’t last.

Maybe it was the travel. Or the shift back to real life. Or the fact that what had started as a joke— a fake relationship to get through a weekend— had suddenly become something far too delicate to joke about.

Whatever it was, by the time they were back home, something between them had changed.

Paige pulled away first.

Not in a dramatic, obvious way. It was subtle— fewer texts, fewer “just because” calls, excuses about being tired, busy, overwhelmed. She showed up late to dinner one night and didn’t lean in when Azzi brushed her hand.

Azzi noticed every beat of it. Every flinch. Every pause.

But she didn’t push.

Not yet.

____

“You good?” Azzi asked one night, when they were sitting side by side on Paige’s couch, a game on the TV, untouched.

Paige didn’t look over. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Paige let out a short breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“With me?”

“With any of this.”

Azzi paused. “You want out?”

“No. Yes.” Paige rubbed her face, eyes burning. “I don’t know.”

Azzi didn’t say anything.

Because what could she say, when Paige was already slipping through her fingers?

____

The next few days were worse.

Paige stopped answering. Not just texts — calls, too. She skipped their usual Sunday shootaround. She didn’t invite Azzi to the fundraiser dinner they’d planned to go to together. She didn’t say anything was wrong.

She just stopped showing up.

____

It was raining when Azzi finally found her.

Not a soft drizzle— a downpour, the kind that soaked through clothes in seconds, that made the whole world feel like it was breaking open.

Azzi didn’t care.

She stood outside Paige’s building, coat already heavy with rain, hair clinging to her face, and poundedon the buzzer until someone let her in.

She didn’t call first.

She didn’t text.

She just knocked on Paige’s door, hard, until it opened.

Paige stared at her, stunned. She was barefoot in a hoodie, face pale and tired, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything.

Azzi didn’t wait.

“You don’t get to ghost me,” she said, soaked and furious. “Not after all of that.”

Paige swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“No. You were. And I let you. Because I thought maybe you needed space, but now I’m standing here in a storm, and I’m not leaving until you say whatever it is you’re afraid to say.”

Paige’s voice cracked. “This isn’t going to work.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“This thing. Us.” Paige stepped back like she couldn’t bear her own words. “It was supposed to be fake. We were never meant to be real. It’s too much. It’s too fast. And I��m going to mess it up.”

Azzi took a step inside. “You’re not messing it up. You’re running from it.”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just scared.”

Paige’s eyes welled up, but she held her ground. “I’ve never had anything like this before, Azzi. Not with anyone. I don’t know what it looks like to let it be real.”

Azzi stood there, soaked to the skin, heart wide open. “You want to know what it looks like?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Azzi closed the space between them. “It looks like me, right now, standing here completely drenched, because I love you so much I couldn’t not come. It looks like two people terrified out of their minds choosing each other anyway.”

Paige froze.

Azzi’s voice dropped. “I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Paige stepped forward— one shaky, breathless step— and kissed her.

Hard. Desperate. Like a dam breaking.

And in the middle of it, she whispered, “I love you too.”

____

Later, they lay tangled on the couch, wrapped in towels and each other, the storm still whispering against the windows.

Neither of them spoke for a while. There was nothing to explain.

Because for the first time, nothing was pretend.

And neither of them was running.

[peachhcs]

Emma is a wreck, she tells everyone including Samy that shes holding up but they all know how shes doing and I think Samy facetimes her one night and asks how shes doing and just tries to comfort her and Emma just starts sobbing and spewing out everything and how shes ‘never ever trusting a hockey player again’ and how shes thought he was different and if it ever gets back to Gabe hes just a WRECK

part 3 to this angsty side plot -- i will say that they WILL be getting back together at some point it's just a matter of when

au masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 4

samy’s not expecting emma’s call when her phone rings close to midnight. the brunette carefully answered and was immediately met with heavy sniffles and small sobs. the soccer player quickly frowned as she got up to go to bedroom for more privacy even though she knew hannah wouldn't mention anything.

"emma? are you okay?" samy asked gently as she saw the blonde trying to wipe her eyes.

"fuck, hey samy, sorry..i didn't mean to call you so late without warning..i just. wow. i didn't know who else to call," emma rambled a little but the youngest hughes was quick to shake her head.

"hey, don't apologize. what's going on? is everything okay?" samy was quick to shut down emma's doubts about calling. the blonde sniffled and then reluctantly shook her head.

"i thought i was fine and i was fine with breaking up with gabe, but like..it all hit me at once laying in my bed and i just started straight up sobbing. i just feel so so lost, samy. i miss him so much but like he fucking hurt me and lied to me..i just.." emma lost her words through her cries which broke samy's heart seeing her so upset. she wished she could reach through the phone and hug her.

"i get it, i get it 100%. it's so hard and you feel so lost. i'm so sorry, em. i don't know why he didn't tell you about all of this..we honestly had no idea he didn't say anything. we were just as shocked when he admitted it to us that night," it'd been plaguing samy's mind since the game that emma thought samy purposefully kept such a huge decision from her.

"no, i know. i know you wouldn't purposefully or hurtfully keep something like that from me. don't apologize. it's not any of your faults. i just don't get why he couldn't tell me. like..was he scared of telling me? my reaction? he knows how happy i would've been for him. i just..and to think i trusted him. i trusted a hockey player when i swore i wouldn't do that shit again," emma continued crying and samy was at a loss for words. she had no idea what she could say that would make this better because when she went through it, none of what people said to her made it better.

"shit, em..i don't know what to say. i have no idea either. he's shitty for not telling you. he never really told any of us or mentioned like anything," samy mumbled with a frown. she watched how emma continuously wiped her eyes from the tears that unfortunately kept coming.

"i get if you don't wanna talk about it, but like..how did you get through this? what did you do? i talked to drew the other day and he said some insightful things i've been thinking about. he said i should maybe hear gabe out, but i don't even know if i would really want to at this point. i mean what more could he say to me?" emma rambled on just because she had no one else to talk to. she talked maya out for the most part and obviously, emma wasn't going to go and rant to some of gabe's best friends and teammates.

"well honestly, it was a lot of crying, sitting in my bed, not really doing anything. my brothers kind of forced me out of the house so it kind of helped...i know it's so hard. if you think it might help bring you closure or help decide if you wanna take him back or not, it may help to hear him out? it never hurts to hear someone out and then think about their side before you decide anything," the soccer player suggested with a small shrug.

"i'm just scared that if i talk to him again, my heart will lead the conversation and i'll take him back when i shouldn't have."

"are your heart and head saying two different things?"

emma nodded.

samy knew that feeling too well. her heart said a lot more than her head when it came to hearing will out and deciding to take him back.

"i will say that if you do decide to take him back, it will take awhile for things to go back to the way they were. it took will a long time to trust each other again and rebuild that part of our relationship," the brunette mentioned and emma frowned.

"if you don't mind me asking, what did you two say on that phone call?" samy and everyone else had been wondering what went down between the two because gabe wouldn't say.

emma cringed thinking back to that night and how she went from sad to heartbroken in a matter or seconds when gabe dropped the bomb on her.

her phone rang and emma immediately picked it up knowing it was gabe calling about the game. she had watched the entire thing on her computer back in boston since she couldn't make it with finals so soon. her heart was broken that the boys lost the game and seeing the aftermath of all of them hugging one another was even worse.

"hi gabe," emma answered carefully.

"hey, em," the boy sounded just as upset as he looked. the blonde frowned.

"i'm so sorry about the game. that fucking sucks. you played so well, though. how are you feeling?" emma asked and she had no idea how much gabe was struggling to tell her what was about to happen in less than 6 hours now.

"it's okay, thank you. i'm feeling..okay. i don't know. sad?" gabe mumbled.

"yeah, that's expected. is there anything i can do for you? i know i can't do much because i'm not there.." the blonde offered and gabe cringed hearing how sweet she was being and how horrible he was for what he was about to tell her.

"no, thank you though baby. i..i think i just need to process it all.."

"that makes sense. well, i'll be around when you land back here. i can't wait to see you. i've missed you," emma smiled a bit.

the dark-haired boy rubbed a frustrated and stressed hand over his face. he paced the hallway a bit as he bit his tongue and knew he needed to just force the words out.

"hey, so..about that..i uh, i won't be coming back to boston.." he began and emma raised her eyebrow.

"what do you mean? are you going somewhere?" the girl was confused.

"uh..yeah. i-i, uh..i'm going to new york. to play..for the rangers..to sign on.." gabe finally spit out and it finally made sense to emma.

the color drained from her face hearing him say that.

"wait..you're going to new york? to sign on?" emma asked just to clarify what she was hearing.

"yeah..my plane leaves tomorrow morning at like 6 in the morning," god gabe felt so horrible. there was silence for a long time on emma's end and that made him feel even worse.

"did you just decide this? i..i don't..how did you decide this?" emma stuttered over her words as she tried to process what her boyfriend was telling her.

"like..i knew going into this game and the end of the season that no matter the outcome, i was going to sign on and fly out to play their last few games of the season. my stuff's already in new york."

"so you knew..weeks ago is what you're telling me?"

"yeah.." gabe squeaked out.

"and so..you just never included me in the conversation? you never thought to mention something to me? who else knew??" emma's emotions were quickly changing between anger, sadness, and betrayal.

"uhh..like everyone."

everyone? what emma was hearing was that her boyfriend spoke to everyone about this decision but her. he told everyone but her. the anxieties clouded her mind as well as the tears.

"what the fuck, gabe?" emma couldn't stop the small cry escaping her lips. the boy's heart broke hearing her.

"i..i promise i was going to tell you..i just..i wanted to tell you, but like i couldn't—"

"no, i don't wanna hear your excuses. you chose not to tell me. that was a decision you made. there are no ifs about that," emma snapped. "i'm your fucking girlfriend, gabe. what the fuck?"

"baby, i promise i wanted to tell you. i was just scared you would—"

"scared i would what, gabe? scared i'd leave? scared i'd be mad? i would've been so fucking happy for you. how could you not talk to me about this?" emma's anger was manifesting into betrayal and frustration all at once. gabe could hear it in her tone and he was kicking himself for not just saying something sooner.

"i-i-i don't know...i knew you'd be happy for me i just..i don't know, em. i got scared. it was happening all at once and i wanted to include you, but i just didn't know how. this is some big, life changing shit and like..." gabe trailed off.

"right, i get that, but you should have told me, or included me. i'm your girlfriend. i-i..do you not trust me? am i not priority?" the blonde was rambling at this point as the tears fell.

"no, no you are important to me. you are, i promise you are. i just...fuck i don't know. i don't know. i should have said something, i know that, i just. ugh. i don't know, em. i didn't even know if i wanted to sign on two months ago...or if i was even ready.."

"i can't listen to this. i-i don't wanna hear it. i don't. if you really cared about me, you would have said something to me sooner or just included me in the conversation. i-i don't...i don't wanna be with someone who is gonna hide things from me and think of me as less important. that's not what i deserve nor do i want to be with someone like that. we're done, gabe," it was rash and emma knew that, but she couldn't keep listening to his excuses. she didn't wanna hear him stumbling over his words trying to make it better when none of it was going to be better.

"wait, em. no, no..can we talk about this more? can we talk when we're not so heightened in our emotions? i do care about you..i never meant to hide this from you, i promise, please.."

"no. i don't wanna talk about this with you. we're done, gabe. i can't. goodbye," and emma hung up leaving gabe in the hallway of the arena he just lost his sophomore season in.

"so..i guess i didn't let him get a lot out on that call. we were both really upset and i think it all just..i dunno..spiraled?" the blonde finished the story. samy was silent for a moment as she processed all of what emma said.

"wow, em...that's a lot," the youngest hughes admitted.

"yeah, i know. am i shitty for not letting him talk more??"

"no, no, you're not. he should have told you sooner. do you feel like there needs to be more said or.." the soccer player trailed off.

"maybe? i don't know. if i just kept my mouth shut in that stupid french class maybe we wouldn't be in this situation right now," the blonde frowned while more tears spilled over. samy felt so horrible that she couldn't do anything.

"no, don't say that, em. i am in no way trying to vouch for him or excuse his actions, but he is a good person. he really isn't like other hockey players who just play girls to play them. he cares a lot. he was so excited when he told us he was talking to you..i'd never seen him like that before. i know it sounds stupid, but maybe you should hear him out? just for a bit? give it more time?" samy knew saying that stuff probably sounded like she was trying to make excuses too, but if any hockey player she knew wasn't like the stereotype, it was definitely gabe.

"you think?"

"i mean it's up to you, but it doesn't hurt? like drew said? i heard he's supposed to be back in boston in a week to finish up classes..maybe that could be your chance?" the brunette said gently.

"wait, he's coming back?" emma didn't know this.

"i heard from one of the guys. you don't have to, but think about it at least."

samy and emma ended their call shortly after. the poor blonde was left with even more to think about and the fact that there was a chance she was gonna run into gabe next week when he came back. the thought flipped her stomach upside down, but also her heart leapt at the chance to see him—that pull she worried would lead her down the wrong path.

[evepere3]

Ok so I have a confession…… I heavily dislike the MC from court is darkness and Ikemen villains IDK WHY I just don’t like them and feel annoyed by them a whole lot😭 my favorite MCs is like the MC of love and deep space and this might be a hot take but Yui from Diabolik lovers I love those two bro😭 but idk why I have a dislike for the MCs for court of darkness and Ikemen villains because I sometimes get upset by their decisions because they always make poor ones and because maybe they act nothing like me😭😭 like I’m NOT about to take disrespect from some guy bro💀 and it’s the fact they both naively do things that can get them in danger and cause trouble for the others😭 and it doesn’t just go for them but I kinda dislike some ML’s too like it’s not just the MCs for example idk why BUT from court of darkness idk why but I dislike Jasper a whole lot and same goes for Roger in Ikemen villains no clue why maybe it’s the glasses but I don’t like them and it makes me mad how in Ikemen villains they always make the MC do something stupid or convinces her to do something and sometimes she catches them but does it anyways like girl what😭 like for example when Alfons gave her that weird cat costume and she put it on like girl huh!? I would NOT do that because remembered these MCs are suppose to be us but I’d rather wear the ugliest clothes than wear any costume given to me by that man, another thing I hate is that they can’t mind their own business bro😭 and every time someone says to them “it’s none of your business” they always reply with something corny like “you made it my business” or like “ik but this person needs help!” ……. Leave! GET OUT! That annoy me sm like bro why can’t you ever not eavesdrop like bro PLEASE😭 like I was so mad when in court if darkness the MC was listening in on a convo between Toa and his sister in the main story like cmon bro just stop😭 and another thing is how the both of them don’t defend their selves LIKE THEY BOTH BEEN KISSED NOT BY CONSENT AND THEY DO NOTHING! It make me so mad and it irks me because ik a lot of yall are not willing to let that slide and they mainly don’t do anything because their in “shock” or once I saw forgot which say that they didn’t do anything and should be flattered because their guy that kiss them without consent is cute…… I wanna cry I dislike those two MCs so much and before yall are like “but you like Yui” yes I do in the anime it doesn’t show her defending herself much but I remember in the manga she sometimes would defend herself and in the translated CDs I read she does defend herself and was trying to hit the triplet with I think a pan or hammer and then we got other times where she lets crowds take them and she actually stands up for herself or tries and even tried running away even though those vampire would’ve tried killed her she didn’t care as long as she tried to reach for her freedom and another thing is that Yui has a heavy disadvantage because they are cruel sadistic crazy vampires that don’t have pity or seem like they don’t care about her well being at times and mind you Yui is a normal young teen girl I’m pretty sure she’s 17 and like she’s stuck with Vampires that slut shame her and other things like cmon now and don’t bring up the Ikemen villains MC she did not try to escape them and she is surrounded by some of them that actually care for her as friends sadly Yui did not have that so please don’t compare them anyways this rant turned out longer than I thought so have a good night/day and may God bless all of yall

[johanna-swann]

Not to make it all about Buck, but the way the character dynamics were portrayed last episode made me so sad for him.

In 8x16 we got the scenes with Maddie and Chimney. Maddie's got her own shit going on, but she took the opportunity of Buck showing up at her house to check in and make him feel seen and loved. Chimney was focused on his own grief, he was angry, he felt guilty, but he didn't put that on Buck. It was a really emotional and great scene that showed Chimney's grief and how he can be open with Buck and accept his advice.

Those scenes perfectly demonstrated Buck following Bobby's "orders" while still giving him connections. But this week I just got the impression that Buck is alone, both from what was directly said and by contrast.

Everybody has someone who they can go to and who will talk to them, even beyond their spouses. Athena has her children, Hen and Karen who all check in with her. Eddie drops by Henren's place and they keep the conversation light, but they can talk openly about several big topics. Chimney gets continued support from his wife, he also spends time with the Wilson-Han children and takes all three of them out to the movies and he briefly chats with Hen.

They all have their own complicated details to work through that could get awkward or even uncomfortable depending on who they bring it up to.

Hen bringing up to Athena how she was offered the Captain's position - meaning she'd replace Bobby in a way - probably made her at least a little nervous, but they talked about it and it was fine. Athena being angry at Chimney is probably complicated for Karen, but she reaches out to Athena about it anyway to make sure she's okay. The way Madney talk about Bobby, how the existence of their kids could've been the detail that convinced Bobby to sacrifice himself, how Maddie is grateful Bobby saved Chim (instead of himself), all of that is emotionally complex and they talk about it. Hen and Karen confront Eddie about his living situation which he explains away quickly and it's no big deal, but they don't just let it slide even though the topic could be difficult for Eddie.

What I mean to say is: These conversations aren't easy. They're complicated and hard and exhausting, but the characters still reach out to each other and take care of each other anyway. Because they love each other and they're family. Sure, Chimney and Athena are at odds right now, but this episode showed again how beautifully interconnected the firefam is. Or can be when the writers decide to show it.

Somehow this doesn't apply to Buck. For some reason he's the one who's too hard to handle, so they don't reach out to him and they don't talk to him and they don't take care of him. And they won't tell us why.

"He spirals after the funeral" -> Okay, so show us the ways in which the team thinks he's spiralling. All I saw and heard about was him checking in on his friends and crying while talking to his dead father figure which a) seems like a very normal thing in that situation, not a spiral, and b) none of his friends know about the confessional.

"He's being weird with this grief assessment thing" -> So they're avoiding him because his grieving is weird? Chimney suddenly took up running which he hates, avoided talking to people and almost missed the funeral to get drunk on vodka instead, but Buck using questions from a psychological questionnaire about grief to check in on his friends is too weird?

Eddie implies that all of them talk about Buck, but not to him because they think it might upset him more. Ergo, they know he's already upset and not okay right now. They're all worried. But if they think he's spiralling and not properly processing his grief, isn't that all the more reason to talk to him?

I think if this was brought up next episode by Buck, maybe him getting angry how no-one will just talk to him, they could do something interesting here, but that's not what's going to happen. At most they will give Buck a moment where he admits to someone that he's been trying to repress his grief, he will cry about Bobby and the person will tell him that he needs to properly grieve because he can't avoid the pain, only delay it. But at this point I'm not even holding my breath for that scene partner to be a family member. They might put the priest in there again for all I know or, hey, maybe another extended family member like Bobby's mom or Mr Lee. Maybe Brad is still around.

Buck feels like the family is falling apart, like they're pulling away, but the truth is that the family is very much still there, meeting for coffe, taking the kids to see a movie, talking about Bobby over baby furniture. The only one they're pulling away from is Buck and it is a blessing that Buck hasn't realised that yet.

[biocrafthero]

hi i remember you mentioning bpd mafuyu like a while ago and i have thought about it a lot since. could i maybe ask you to elaborate………. /nf

I talked about it on my sideblog which basically summarizes my thoughts but I'll add some more here while I'm at it :3

I find formal diagnostic criteria to be a bit finicky especially depending on the psychiatrist's view of the disorder when they diagnose someone with it, so a lot of my thoughts about it are based off of my own personal experience. Please note I am not formally diagnosed but highly suspect myself to have the disorder

A lot of Mafuyu's BPD symptoms are characterized by lack of emotion/being extremely out of touch with one's own emotions. In Main Story she expresses these feelings quite clearly, saying that no matter how much she searches she can't find anything (a statement made referring to her sense of self). As the stories go on she does grow and is getting closer to finding her "true self", but smth nice about it that I talk about in my sideblog post is that this builds off of her [vaguely defined] personality traits

A large part of why she likely has BPD is obviously because of her mother. Her mom is very much emotionally enmeshed with her daughter, smth that other posters can explain a lot better than me and also something that can be found in these events:

What Lies Beyond Guiding A Lost Child (third focus)

Farewell, My Mask (fourth focus)

And So, The Needle Begins To Move (sixth focus)

Do keep in mind I haven't read Reeling In The Lights (fifth focus) because I'm waiting for it to get to English server nglllllll

In each of these events, we can observe how Mafuyu's mom intertwines her emotional state with her daughter's. The whole "be a good girl and you'll make me happy/proud" thing speaks for itself, but something that's very notable that came up in Mafu6 is how whenever Mafuyu's mom starts getting upset Mafuyu immediately drops everything to make her feel better. At the end of this particular event, Mafuyu is driven into a dissociative spiral after her mom left the room to go calm down (AFTER MAKING A WHOLE SCENE OF GETTING UPSET!!!). Mafuyu perceives any moment of her mom being upset as her fault

The fact that her mother relies on her to such an extent for stability like this, on top of the fact that she actively isolates her daughter socially—Main Story, Immiscible Discord (Kana3), Mafu4, and probably other things I'm forgetting—as well as the lack of privacy between the two of them (again, Kana3) means that Mafuyu literally did not have the room to develop her own independent sense of self.

It's not like this was just something that started in her teen years either, since we literally see how Mafuyu's mom used a traumatic event to emotionally manipulate her very young daughter (Mafu3, specifically when Mafuyu was very young and got lost as Phoenix Wonderland, a sequence of events we see through a flashback). Emotional abuse like this can have extreme negative consequences, especially at such a key psychological developmental stage for children that age.

I may be missing a thing here or there because I am a little tired but yeah this is some more rambling about that from the top of my head. I really do think that Mafuyu has some kind of personality disorder, and borderline fits her the best imo.

Please note again that this is all based off of my personal experiences and my own knowledge of borderline. I am NOT formally educated on the subject, what I'm doing here is basically peak "recognizing myself in the fictional character" or whatever

Also smth funny that's semi-related is that during Imprisoned Marionette (first focus) Mizuki refers to helping Mafuyu as "basically rehab" WHICH IS REALLY FUNNY AND IT ALWAYS STUCK WITH ME LMAO

[blitzofreeandwild]

HOKAY SO.

I am 99% sure that with how this show likes to do parallels and callbacks that this line?

Yeah, with him saying this right after Stolas was talking about Via, I'm willing to bet money that this is a hint that Barbie and Via are going to be parallels to one another. So I really think they're going to end up having similar growth arcs, both with a narcissistic parent who's swaying their opinion negatively and making them think Stolas/Blitzø caused all of this to happen.

I think that the show is honestly setting it up so that Blitzø is partly able to empathize as well with Stolas as he is because it's such a similar situation to when he had the falling out with his own family. I think Stella will be a parallel to Cash, Via to Barbie, and I think Vassago is going to end up playing a somewhat Fizz-ish role in Stolas' life. I don't know exactly how that's going to play out, but he has the potential with being an old friend who's kinda not really in touch with Stolas as much these days.

Anyway, back to the main point, Barbie. We're not sure exactly what happened when Blitzø went after his mom in the fire, but there was the faint sound of Barbie calling for him. And he definitely blames himself, and his mom is gone. So I think it's pretty safe to say that whatever happened, it was probably extremely traumatizing, didn't make him look good, and I think it's extremely likely that Barbie saw it. Maybe she didn't get the full story, or maybe she saw things from a bad angle and made bad assumptions, I don't know. But I think it's probably safe to say that if Blitzø thinks he's killed their mom? Yeah, I think Barbie thinks that too. That would be enough to cause bad sibling drama on its own. But an abusive parent using something like that to get in your head? OOF.

The thing is, Blitzø doesn't hold any of this against her, and this is a man who can absolutely hold a grudge. *cough* Spring Broken *cough* But Blitzø's still is trying his best to repair things with her, still is checking in and trying his damndest to take care of her as much as he can, and is hardly even reacting to all the terrible things she says about him. Blitzø doesn't just let people treat him like crap and walk all over him just because he thinks he deserves it. Which means that he's letting her get away with all of that because he understands where she's coming from. Honestly, I think that is the biggest point for us viewers to be on Barbie's side, even if she's been manipulated and used by The Dark One.

I think if we as a fandom can accept and understand that Via isn't evil or terrible and has every right to be upset with her dad, then I think we can give Barbie a chance. She was also only 18 when the fire happened, with a whole childhood of Cash's abuse shaping who she was. We have to give Blitzø some credit here, honestly--We all know he's a bit of a disaster asshole, but he's still had so much more chance to recover because he got out.

And as a little aside. A person's health and safety and their boundaries are often connected. They usually have boundaries in the first place for the sake of their health and safety. So ignoring a boundary because "Well, you're falling back into bad old habits!" is... not a great move. An understandable one, if you're genuinely that worried for someone's safety. But if you break a boundary for reasons like that, you have to also be prepared for it burning some bridges, even if it does end up saving the person. My brother and I haven't really gotten back on speaking terms ourselves after getting away from our abusive parents. I don't hold that or even the things he said while he was under their roof against him. I know what it's like to live with them, I know how they burrow under your skin, I know he was just trying to stay alive. But if he tracked me down after I was discharged from the hospital? Yeah, the trust isn't there, even if the love is. I wouldn't really trust him not to say hurtful things, which could be even more devastating than usual after being in-patient. So I would also be telling my brother to leave me the hell alone in that situation. And if he still didn't leave? And tried to justify it as "Well, I was right to go against what you want and what you say makes you feel safer, because look, you're already failing and falling back into bad habits!!" ...Yeah. I wouldn't exactly take well to that, either. She kind of had every right to snap at him.

I don't think Barbie will be won over right away. I think she'll need some time and grace. But I don't think she'll just be Cash's tool when the time comes, even if she's been doing his dirty work until then. And I think we also should remember that up until Oops, Fizz wasn't exactly nice to Blitzø himself. But we got past that and we all love the adorable little clown!!

This might not be Hazbin, but it's so easy to tell that these two shows are related, because the core of the story is the same: It's all about redemption and forgiveness.

Barbie's going to forgive Blitzø, even if it really is hard to ever go back to having a close relationship again, like OP said. And Blitzø has already forgiven her on at least some level, if he's seeking her out. And honestly? I trust Blitzø's character judgement. He's got a good sense of people.

"Them"- Cash and Barbie

I really hate it when I remember that this makes it very likely that Barbie and Cash pulled this crap together.

Blocking Blitz and Fizz from seeing eachother for 15 bloody years.

And that it's actually a real toss up weather his dad, or his sister told him that; 'Fizz says you're going to die alone Blitzo'.

[tellwolves]

she doesn't like football. she never could understand why the country had made it so synonymous with thanksgiving. greta didn't seem too interested in it, either. a few years ago, they would've done something with each other to entertain themselves.

nowadays, she's not so sure greta wants anything to do with her.

"psst. junebug."

she looks over her shoulder. uncle finn's dressed up like he's leaving—his scarf, his gloves, his nice brown coat. so soon? a sharp, longing pang shoots through her chest. every time he leaves, every time she leaves him, she feels that they haven't spent an adequate amount of time together. "are you leaving?"

he shakes his head, muttering, "oh, no, no, no. i'm not."

that makes her feel better. but, the question remains. "why are you dressed up like you are?"

he inches closer, and puts his arm over her shoulders. he pulls her close, and she instinctively curls into his side. she doesn't feel embarrassed. it's just them, no one will tell her eleven's too old for that.

"i was thinking me and you could blow this popsicle stand." he jerks a thumb over his shoulder, towards the living room, towards dad and grandpa complaining about the ref.

she nods. "yeah. i'd like that."

she puts on her shoes, then her scarf and gloves and her woolen jacket. she lets him situate the toboggan on her head, careful to not snag her ears with his rings when he slips it over them.

right hand on the doorknob, his finger goes to his lips. she mirrors the gesture. it feels like a breakout. it's nice to have fun little secrets with someone again.

they walk into the woods. with the trees surrounding them, the sounds of a newborn night, the silence that only comes with snow, it feels like a whole different time. that's why she likes them so much. everything modern melts away. they could've walked into a portal and not known it. she looks for a robin. maybe the secret garden is near.

they stop, and finn says he's going to build them a fire. she didn't know he could do that, but doesn't tell him so. she picks up three sticks that look good enough for kindling. finn's thank you, darling, you're a natural woodsy owl makes her feel warmer than any fire ever could. after a couple minutes, there's a fire in front of them. her uncle finn could do anything.

"you ever think about what the cavemen thought when they did that for the first time?" finn asks, brushing snow off a log he'd dragged over for them to sit on.

she sits down beside him, smiling, a giggle bubbling up her throat. she hadn't. "i bet they went crazy."

they huddle together, her underneath his arm. she closes her eyes. she can smell his cologne, and her house, and, faintly, his apartment. lavender and orange. she finds herself staring at the fire more than talking with him. she supposes that's just as well: he's not being very talkative, either.

it's nice to just be held.

he gives her a tiny shake. "i'm going to teach you something."

she looks up, but doesn't move. "yeah?"

"you know mozart, don't you?"

"yeah. duh. you play him all the time."

his smile can be heard in his voice. "my apologies, young lady." then, continuing: "there's a song in the record i play all the time."

she sniffles, chilled, and sits up. "requiem, right?"

"just the one. you're a smart cookie, crocodile. well, one of the songs, or rather, one of the parts, it's called lacrimosa."

lacrimosa. it's a pretty word. she likes it. she repeats it a few times to herself.

"it's latin for 'weeping'. crying. the state of being tearful."

she loved to hear uncle finn talk. he sounded so—educated. sounded like new york city. she wanted to be like him.

"this song and others like it are sung in the instance of someone dying. morbidly enough," finn reaches and fixes her scarf, tucks some hair back into the toboggan, preening her like a proud bird would his chick, "mozart died before he could finish composing it."

she shivers. she's not sure if it's the chill or the thought of a famous man writing about death, only to die with his work incomplete. she stays her silence, slightly bobbing her head to will finn on.

he leans in a little closer, drops his voice to an even quieter whisper. "do you want to know how it goes?"

her mouth opens, closes. she nods. he sings it through, his voice a little haunting in the stillness, especially since he's singing about death and crying and sorrow. he teaches her what each line means, translating it into english.

she sings it. they both do. over and over again in their small, quiet, wobbly voices, careful not to disturb any creatures that might be around. by the end of it, she knew it by heart. dona eis requiem. dona eis requiem

"we ought to start heading back." he stands, and she mourns the moment coming to an end. she doesn't want it to end. "they'll be wondering where we are."

there's a pause as he puts out the fire. "i want to stay here forever. in the forest. with you. i never want to go back to the city again."

her eyes grow wide. uncle finn, not living in the city? no, impossible. that's not right. that's a square peg in a round hole.

his smile seems a little sad. "i know i couldn't." he opens his arm, the same one she's been under, inviting her to walk underneath it as they head back. she feels reassured, but still wonders if finn had meant to say that out loud. if that had slipped out on accident, and she was never supposed to know about it.

they follow their tracks home. turns out, they weren't far from home, at all. so much for the illusion.

"there you two are," mom says as they reenter the warm kitchen, their cheeks red from the cold. one fist goes onto her hip. her smile is toothless, but entirely geniune. mom must be thinking that they're two peas in a pod. "saved you some pumpkin pie. there's two pieces in there with your names on it. some cool whip, too."

"thanks a bunch, old woman," finn says, teasing her with his nickname for her. mom feigns severity, looking like the school secretary, and goes back into the living room.

as she's leaving, finn says to june: "c'mon. i'll let you have this piece. it's bigger."

when he's certain mom's gone, finn winks. she, more clumsily, winks back. their secret. they won't tell anybody where they were.

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

[nebulastarss]

My experience with being aroace:

Me at 13: I've never been good at telling the difference between romantic and platonic love, so I'll just say I'm pan till I figure it out

Me at 14 near the end of that same year, reading the asexual definition: Oh ok that makes sense. Haha, no wonder I think everyone's so overwhelmingly horny.

Me, later: there's different ones for romantic attraction?? Panromantic asexual till I figure that out too I guess.

Me, discovering aromantic: oh. Well, I should've guessed that really.

[pumpkinhcad]

❝ "An honor"?! ❞ Pump had never looked this offended before. This was worse than having a surprise birthday party revealed to him in advance! Or something even worse like-- . ❝ You could've just told me Santa's not real, like Roy does! ❞ Except that he was a single person. And a very much real one! He would just have had to make sure of it during Christmas.

Now he was going to have to double check every single time Skid and he came across something spooky! That undermines the spookiness factor!! How could someone whose entire life was dedicated to spooking people not understand that?! She even thought it was funny!! Needless to say, he was outraged.

Not like that feeling and hot-headedness lasted for long. Catching a glance of something in particular caused him to gasp! And literally jump! Kids and their sudden changes in demeanor. One moment, he had been very upset; and the next, he was excitedly stopping the ghoul in her hypothetical tracks to repeatedly jump and point. So much for having his entire perception of the world shaken up.

❝ Look, look, we're here! ❞ From the side of the road in which they stood, they could see a two-story building. The sign in the front yard was marked by the number '123'. ❝ That's my house!! ❞ Yes, the fancy-looking, two-story building. With such a topic of conversation going on, it was no surprise they had made it this far without even noticing it. ❝ C'mon, c'mon, let's go! ❞

He did not wait for a response before- oh! Nope, he did not dash through the road as one would have expected. Instead, with a straight face, he looked right, then left, and only then! The pumpkin boy made a run for it, a wide smile on his face.

"Heh heh heh heh heh!" She's in a fit of giggles watching the boy's reaction. It's like his whole world was shattering right before her eyes! And it was hilarious. He would now forever be cursed with the knowledge of not knowing if a creature of the dark was the real deal or an imitation.

The specter had quite the pleased smile upon her face as the boy turned and huffed. "Aw, cheer up. This is stuff no other human usually gets to know about. You should consider it an honor." Of course, the grin upon her face tells she knows it's anything but that for someone engrossed in the spookiness of it all.

"Eergh. I don't know if I would go that far." Though never say never. When a monster is in the moment, they'll do what they need in order to get the fear out of others. "I'd much rather scare someone to death than stab them..."

[xianzhoualliance]

hummmm i looked around a bit and i guess it just depends on how u interpret their actions…?

[spaciebabie]

shoutout 2 this person in my class who i can tell wants 2 talk 2 me really bad but instead of doing that whenever she has the chance she'll talk 2 whoever else is around and ignore me entirely unless im mentioned by name

[ryuusei-boi]

she paused as she kept the ball under her foot and looked at him, really looked at him. he felt small. "talk to me, Minamisawa-kun," she said, passing him the ball again. "how are you really feeling?"

he clenched his fists and bared his teeth. "I feel awful," he said, raising his voice. "I just- I'm angry-..." he cut himself off, but Otonashi encouraged him.

"tell me, who are you angry with?" tears pricked in his eyes. he didn't want to say it out loud. he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it'd keep out the feeling but knowing it wouldn't. he was scared to vocalize it- speaking it into the world would be like admitting to all the worst parts of himself. "I don't want to say it," he gasped.

Otonashi put her hand on his shoulder. "then show me," she said. he blinked up at her confused and she smiled back, lifting her hand to point at the goal. "pretend that goalpost is the thing you're angry at, okay?" he looked at it and felt a stinging pain in his chest, imagining his own face on it- but somehow it felt right. he was the only one to blame, after all. "I want you to make it feel it, Minamisawa-kun." his hands started to itch.

he wanted it to hurt.

"now, shoot!"

he put everything he had into that ball. all his anger and frustration, all the hate he felt towards himself for letting this happen. Minamisawa watched it hurtle towards the goalpost and hit it straight-on, bouncing back with equal force and flinging across the field to end up in the other goal. the sound of the goalpost rang hollow in his chest and suddenly his face was wet again.

he felt like the only person on earth, all alone and pathetic and crying. his legs gave out again - and why'd that keep happening? it only made him feel worse - and he sobbed as the field's grass blades were crushed under his knees and knuckles.

somewhere he registered Otonashi kneeling down next to him, and her calm voice somewhat broke him out of his fit. "it's all right, Minamisawa-kun." she said it so gently, it almost made him feel worse to be at the receiving end of her kindness.

somewhere between sobs he managed to stand up with her help. between wiping his face til his cheeks were as red as his eyes, they'd reached her office and she promised to make him some tea. between sniffling like an idiot he managed to ask about missing out on his classes, and she assured him not to worry.

he so much as gutted the tissue box on her coffee table- he hated how snotty he got when he cried. this was why he preferred to act indifferent; it left less of a mess for him, or, in this case others, to clean up. Otonashi returned with a cup of tea and a compassionate smile which only served to make him feel worse. the cleanup was always worse than the outburst, and Minsamisawa felt ashamed to let his sensei be witness to both.

"I'm sorry, Otonashi-sensei," he started before she could. he wanted to express his regret some more, but didn't trust his voice not to give out again. she just smiled and shook her head. "it's all right, Minamisawa-kun. you're allowed to be upset. expressing your feelings is healthy." he wanted to respond, say no, I'm not, it isn't, I'm supposed to be indifferent, it's not all right at all, I deserve to die in a hole for causing a scene, let alone TWO, but held his tongue.

"thank you, sensei," he croaked out instead.

he took a sip of the mug of tea, which he hadn't noticed he'd been holding onto like a lifeline since being handed it. Otonashi just smiled and got up again to water her plants and he was grateful not to have to say anything else.

the window was open, and soft birdsong drifted into the room alongside a pleasant breeze. Minamisawa closed his eyes for a second and just tried to forget- about the flyers, about the panic attack, about everyone's pity crushing him like a boulder. the static slowly faded away like a curtain being lifted.

one thing kept popping up, however. Kurama's voice had been breathless and somewhat hoarse as he revealed Minamisawa's secret to everyone. remembering it made that desire resurface, to punch the first-year in his smart mouth so he'd never dare to open it in his direction again. ...but that tone of his- apprehensive, cautious, even hesitant, it made feelings in his gut swirl with confusion. if his plan was to expose his secret and humiliate him, why did Kurama sound so conflicted about it? and why was the focus on Minamisawa instead of him, everyone worried for him instead of pissed at Kurama?

one monday morning, Raimon students entered the school grounds to find hundreds of flyers pasted across the hallways and bulletin boards. they crowded around them to read what they said, asking each other if they knew the guy whose picture was on it and whether it was true.

when Minamisawa walked through the school gates, he was greeted with stares and people whispering to each other. he barely had any time to wonder what was going on when Kurumada and Hamano ran up to him. "no time to talk, senpai. let's go," the latter said, and they grabbed his wrist and hurried over to the soccer building.

1.2k words, panic attacks, some homophobic language

as his teammates pulled him through the hallways, Minamisawa barely caught a glimpse of a flyer with his face on it, tacked onto the wall. that's weird, he thought, but it was quickly forgotten as he tried not to trip all over himself in the rush.

"ah, you've got him." it was their captain, Sangoku, who was standing in the middle of the locker room. at the table were Kurama, Shindou and Kosaka, looking grim. but before they could explain to their teammate what was going on, the door opened again.

"I think that's everything in this building, captain- oh, senpai, you're here." Minamisawa turned around to Amagi and Kirino, carrying armfuls of flyers- the ones with his face on them. cold ice shot through his veins and he snatched one out of Amagi's hands to read. "Minamisawa-san, wait-" he tried, but it was too late.

"Minamisawa Atsushi is a filthy homo."

it seemed like the entire locker room held their breath as his eyes scanned the page. everyone watched as he started to tremble. this can't be happening. Sangoku approached him carefully and took the flyer from his hands. "Minamisawa-san, breathe."

he couldn't. static fizzled behind his eyes and his vision blurred. tremors wrecked his hands as they reached for his hair, pulling at his locks. his heart felt like it was trying to crawl out of his throat, he wanted to throw up.

Sangoku's calm voice echoed somewhere in his ears, but was drowned out by the static again. his head felt like it was going to split open and explode into a million tiny pieces- he wished it would, anything to not have to exist right there in that moment.

he wasn't sure if it'd been minutes or hours, but at some point his heart had stopped trying to escape his body and he could see again, if barely. he could make out Sangoku's hand on his shoulder, and- wait, why was he on the floor? Minamisawa guessed his legs had given out somewhere along the way.

"good, keep breathing, just like that." Sangoku spoke softly, keeping him grounded. there were tears on his face- when did those get there? he hurriedly wiped them away. then he looked around and realized that Hamano and Kurumada had joined them on the floor. "why are you guys..."

Hamano smiled awkwardly. "solidarity?" Kurumada tried with a shrug. Minamisawa let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. Sangoku stood up and offered him a hand. that was when he realized Hayami and Mizumori had entered the room as well- both carrying more armfuls of flyers.

"listen, Minamisawa-san. I don't know who did this, but we're going to get to the bottom of it," Sangoku declared.

he frowned and looked at the piece of paper laying on the locker room floor. "...you guys don't hate me?"

"it's true, then?" Mizumori asked. Kurumada hit him on the shoulder. "it doesn't matter if it's true," Shindou spoke up. "a smear campaign like this is unacceptable. we need to tell coach Kudou and Otonashi-sensei."

Minamisawa was breathless. he wanted to say no, let's just keep this between us, but he knew it was too late for that. the entire school had already seen them, and the teachers no doubt had too- he would probably get called to the principal's office soon.

"and it goes without saying," Sangoku broke him out of his worried train of thought with a hand on his shoulder. "but of course we don't hate you. we all support you, don't we, guys?"

the team agreed, doing their best to shed their worried expressions in lieu of smiles. Hamano gave him a thumbs up. Minamisawa still felt a tightness deep in his chest. "...thanks, everyone."

"but who would do such a thing?" Hayami asked helplessly as he put the collected flyers down on the table. Kurumada looked at Minamisawa. "did anyone know about... about this? anyone who wanted to hurt you?"

he stiffened. "um... nobody. I didn't tell anyone," Minamisawa lied. then everyone went quiet as they tried to figure out who it could be.

"you know that's not true, senpai." Kurama broke through the silence as he stood up. everyone looked at him, but he only looked at Minamisawa. "I didn't want to say anything, but... I saw you guys together."

Minamisawa tensed up. ""you guys"? who?" Kosaka asked. Minamisawa ignored him. "what do you mean, you saw us?"

Kurama seemed hesitant to tell him. "...in the hallway, when he kissed you." the locker room broke out in wolf whistles before everyone remembered the situation at hand. "was it him?"

Minamisawa opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue. his relationship with Kento was supposed to stay strictly secret- he knew that kiss was a bad idea... not that he'd even wanted it in the first place.

Kento had been pushy about it, he'd grabbed Minamisawa's arms to sneak a kiss before everyone arrived for afternoon training. he supposed Kurama got there early to see it. god, he wished his head had exploded during his panic attack earlier.

"is that true, Minamisawa-san?" Shindou asked. "could he be the culprit?"

"yes," Minamisawa snapped. "it was him, alright?" he turned around and walked towards the front of the room, his back towards the others. he didn't want to be seen like this. "I don't know what I expected. of course he'd get back at me. why wouldn't he?"

"get back at you?" the others approached. he wished they wouldn't. Sangoku hovered near him with a worried look. "did you two break up, is that why?"

Minamisawa didn't answer. he felt the static buzzing behind his eyes again.

"worse," Kurama spoke up again, voice gravelly like he actually felt bad revealing these things to the team. like he didn't think Minamisawa wanted to keep them to himself until he was dead and gone, living his life without ever having to admit his weakness to anyone. "Minamisawa-senpai was being blackmailed."

rage swelled up in his stomach and he growled, balled his fists and got in Kurama's face. "just how much do you really know about me, huh, first-year? have you been spying on me, is that it?" he spat, grabbing him by the collar of his training jacket. "I'll teach you to leave well enough alone, you little..."

"stop it," Shindou urged him as he tried to get between them. "this isn't like you, Minamisawa-san!"

"he's right. don't take it out on him," Kurumada put a hand on his shoulder. Minamisawa's fingers twitched and he grimaced, finally letting go of his classmate.

he looked at the floor and let out a deep sigh, then made his way towards the door, pushing past his teammates. "Minamisawa?" he ignored it. he needed to be alone.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[bellamyblakru]

i will never understand how some people can actively shit on something they know someone loves and finds joy in right in front of them. how can you hate something that makes someone else happy in this absolutely fucked world in front of them.

its the passive aggression for no reason i will never ever understand or do to others. if you have a passion, fucking LIVE it. if nothing else, passion gets us through every shitty day, and i will always support it.

have passion in spite of those who hate.

[racingmiku2018]

work was such a shitshow in the morning that it trailed into the afternoon and evening and now im just hit with this sinking dread of having to go and do it all again tomorrow