#girl sees a potentially threat and THROWS herself at it

[bigmoon-is-bigwife]

Man. Ros heard there was a potential trap and immediately outright begged to be the one to check and potentially set it off. There was no actual trap so she was fine but Ros 😭.....

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

No one sees a cleaning lady.

Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.

It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.

She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.

It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.

His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.

He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.

Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.

She's mesmerized.

It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.

The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.

She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.

The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.

The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.

It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.

He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.

It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.

"König. Would you mind?"

The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.

"Entschuldigung."

He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.

"English, please..."

"My apologies."

The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.

König…

König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.

König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.

He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.

"You're running low again?"

"Eh… Ja."

He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.

"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."

He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.

His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.

"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.

He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.

"Hier."

"Why thank you."

He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.

"I'll be going then."

But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.

“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.

. . . . .

She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.

No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.

No one sees a cleaning lady.

No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.

But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.

And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.

The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.

He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.

Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.

Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.

He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.

She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.

The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.

His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.

And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?

And then he…

He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.

She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.

. . . . .

"Hey."

If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.

"Hi."

Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.

"You here for more coffee?"

He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.

"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.

"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.

"I'm– sorry, what?"

"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."

She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.

"Jesus…"

The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.

. . . . .

There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.

What the f-

König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.

"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.

"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.

He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.

And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.

Has he picked them from outside…?

"I thought you liked me."

His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.

"I do. I do like you."

His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"

Nope. Big mistake.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Ok. I'll be going then."

He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.

“Wha-… König, please, wait.”

He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.

"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.

He merely shrugs.

"Never had any friends."

For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.

"I can be your friend."

Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–

"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"

She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.

Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.

"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."

König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.

She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.

"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.

The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.

"Just friends, then."

. . . . .

It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.

Her new friend.

She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.

He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.

But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.

He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.

She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.

"How are you?"

His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.

"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"

"Sehr gut."

Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.

And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.

"You look nice."

But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.

She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.

"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.

"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you take it off before bed?"

Oh god.

That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.

Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?

Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.

"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…

Friends, friends. We're just friends.

"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"

"No. Austrian."

"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."

"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.

"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.

"Ok."

He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.

"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…

"You really want to know?"

"Sure."

"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.

"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.

"Uh... I'm sure it is."

"Do you regret that you asked?"

"No. Well, perhaps a little."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.

"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."

"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.

"Do you like knives?"

Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.

"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."

Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.

"What would it take to be more than friends?"

His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.

"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"

"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.

As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.

She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.

"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"

"Ok."

He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.

In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.

She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.

She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.

“Jesus–"

By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.

"How did you get in?"

He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.

"You asked me to visit you."

He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.

"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."

"Sorry."

If you shrug I swear I’m going to…

"Where do you wish to go?"

He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.

She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.

"Do you like Chinese?"

He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.

"I need to change. Could you turn around?"

The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.

But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.

König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.

"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.

The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.

He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.

He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'

What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.

He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.

"A bit, yeah."

"Is it because of the hood?"

His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.

"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.

He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.

"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.

"I…I guess so."

"You think I'm weird, don't you."

His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.

"Um… I… Uh-"

"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.

"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"

"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."

"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"

"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.

She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.

"Am I harassing you?"

Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.

There's bitterness... Exclusion.

Loneliness.

"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.

"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.

"Do you want me to stop?"

In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.

"König… Are you lonely?"

He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.

"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.

"...Yes."

Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.

"You don't have to be."

There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.

She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018 

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do. 

Push Paige away 

Tell her this a bad idea 

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans. 

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 

“Why what?” 

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 

 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

*** 

“You cheated,” Jon yells. 

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

[nobodysdaydreams]

I already know the Wizard is probably gonna be so scared of Dorothy for so many reasons.

First of all, she’s from our world and from the same region of the US, so she knows exactly where he’s from and the technology he’s using to fake his magic. In fact, if time in Oz and Kansas/Nebraska are moving at the same rate, Dorothy should be from a time period ahead of when the Wizard came to Oz and should be able to easily explain most of his “magic”.

Second of all, the Grimmerie’s prophecy is that it will be read by someone from the sky in Oz’s darkest hour. Obviously, that’s Elphaba counteracting the Wizard, but the Wizard has everyone convinced it was him fixing things after the drought. But now, Oz is under “threat” of the witch and a young girl from his world shows up, kills the sister of the Wizard’s enemy, and has a dog with her, possibly a talking one. Everyone thinks Dorothy is super powerful, she fits exactly what the Grimmerie predicted, and she has everything she needs to expose the Wizard. He’d be terrified.

This is how I picture it going down:

Some guard: “The girl is quite powerful, sir. She came from the sky and immediately killed the Wicked Witch of the East. She claims it was easy, unintentional even!”

The Wizard (to himself): “Nothing to worry about. That was technically Morrible’s doing, the fact that she came from the sky is coincidental. I’m certain she has no real power.”

The guard: “She also acquired the dead witch’s shoes and when the Wicked Witch of the West showed up to take them, it was discovered the witch had no power over the girl.”

The Wizard (trying not to freak out): “You mean…Elphaba was powerless to stop this new witch-killing visitor from the sky? One that killed her sister and stole her property? You don’t say. And um… did the girl happen to say where she was from?”

The guard: “Yes. Kansas. She claims it’s a place without magic or talking animals.”

The Wizard (slowly becoming paranoid and trying to play it off): “Oh really? Haha… how silly. Never heard of a place called Kansas or anywhere without magic seeing as I’m clearly a powerful Wizard. And um… where is this girl now?”

The guard: “Why, she’s on the way to the Emerald City right now along with two animals, a least one of which can talk, and two men cursed by the Witch of the West. Apparently, they want to see you, specifically.”

The Wizard (sweating): “They want to see ME? I mean um…who wouldn’t? Haha… but whatever for?”

The guard: “Well, they’re demanding you fix the condition of the two men the witch cursed, give the girl passage home, and help the talking lion overcome his trauma. Seeing as they are celebrated throughout Oz for killing one wicked witch for us, surely it is appropriate and well within your power to grant their requests immediately.”

The Wizard (slipping into madness and frantically trying to hide it): “Indeed it is I am a generous man yes, and I can totally do that for sure, yes of course, I have the power, but first, let’s take them all prisoner upon arrival just in case can never be too careful these days.”

The guard: “Sir… are you saying you want us to…”

The Wizard (shouting and trembling in fear): “Throw that little girl in prison, put those Animals in cages, and keep the two the witch cursed out of my sight! Tell them I’m busy! Tell them I have the flu! Tell them I’m out of town! Any excuse, I don’t care what it is, and whatever you do, DO NOT let that girl escape!”

By this point, the Wizard is paranoid out of his mind, assuming they are on the way to kill and/or expose him and given the company Dorothy keeps, it’s unlikely the Wizard will be very successful in getting her on his side. His goal would likely be to cage the Animals, find a way to deal with Boq and Fiyero (if he even recognizes them), and capture Dorothy as a potential enemy.

Maybe Elphaba writing “Surrender Dorothy” in the sky with her broom in this version of the story isn’t asking Dorothy herself to surrender, but demanding the Wizard to give Dorothy up because he takes her prisoner out of fear that she will expose him and the Wizard lets her go on the condition that she proves her loyalty by killing the Witch. The Wizard probably figures it’s a win/win for him: either Elphaba or Dorothy will die, and one of his enemies will destroy the other. What he wouldn’t expect is them working together, because as far as he knows, Dorothy has stolen the witch’s sister’s shoes and befriended two men cursed by the witch.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i love ur work!! id love to read about chess player!ellie x chess player!reader hate fucking the shit out of each other after one of them wins the tournament 🤭🤭

"You're not as boring as I thought...

...you are not as bright, either."

warnings: 18+!! edging, brat!reader, slight mean!ellie, dom!ellie, sub!reader, yeah js.. smut

writers note: i never told u guys before but pspsp.. i play chess !! so surprising right🤭🤭 and yes i used dominiques quote because . and . also ...,.

"what the fuck was that, huh?" she asked with a serious, cold tone. and maybe you'd even bother to answer, if she wasn't about nine inches deep in you. you rolled your eyes with a quiet whimper. "what? gonna throw a tantrum? i'm the one who should be mad. shit— i am fuckin' mad."

"see, el— maybe..." you hiccuped, managing to fully open your half-lidded eyes for a second. "maybe i'm just... better."

"better?" her eyes widened in shock, because even though she knew how much of a brat you can be she wasn't expecting that.

at some point, you were right. on the other hand, you didn't have to rub it in her face like that.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you could tell she had studied the art of offensive chess for quite some time. she would frequently sacrifice her pieces to gain control of the center of the board, relying on her opponent's hesitations to gain a positional advantage. however, her tactics had limitations.

as you continued to play defensively, her attacks became more predictable, and you were able to counter them. while you wondered how she had reached this level, you had to admit that her strategy would work perfectly against a not patient or uncertain opponent. time didn't matter to you, not as much as to your rival, so you easily took advantage of it.

she looked either bored or amused most of the time, keeping the atmosphere more relaxed than it should be. "...so those girls like chess players, y'know? they're just so easy-"

"focus." you cut her off in an indifferent tone. the fact that she wasn't paying much attention to your moves, busy with talking, was good, but her rambling also distracted you. you clicked the little button on the clock, signaling it's ellie's turn. "i get it, people like smart girls." you mumbled, leaning back in your chair. "are you one of them, though?" you continued in a doubting voice, unintentionally insulting her.

her usual smirk didn't leave her face but you could see her bite the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance or even frustration. "i'm gonna show you." she nodded, as if to reassure herself with a silent 'yeah, just you wait!' which you couldn't help but laugh at. well, maybe not laugh, but chuckle under your breath. your comment must really bother her, to the point you ruined her offensive tactic.

"you're not as boring as i thought..." you scanned the board through your firm gaze, searching for any potential threats. you straightened up, propping your elbows on the small table and laying your head on your hands, impatiently tapping your cheeks. as soon as she clicked the little knob you already knew what'll your move be, so you quickly extended your hand. "you're not as bright, either." you picked up your knight, tauntingly pattering it through the squares, mimicking a real horse. finishing the L-shaped distance seemed to take you ages, though it was really less than four seconds. you let go of it, making a muffled knocking sound as it hit the wooden board. "checkmate." you whispered, folding your hands and tilting your head.

you took a moment to take in her reaction, which, much to your disappointment, wasn't an interesting scene. in fact, her smirk only widened as she looked at the clock and saw what led to this - her reckless haste. she hummed and shook your hand, what showed that she agreed with the score.

"how could i not notice that?" she smiled, letting you know it doesn't matter to her. you started to wonder about her strange behaviour, which seemed weird compared to the known, easy to piss off ellie williams. and just then, you understood everything's how it should be. her grip on your hand painfully tightened, as if to prove that your suspicion is correct.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you felt her strap slid out of you, leaving your cunt hopelessly clenching around nothing. you raised your head, letting out a needy whimper and hoping to see what was she's up to. "els—"

"shut up." she murmured as she parted your thighs, revealing herself between them. she leaned down to have your slit at her eye level, with a quiet growl. "you're such a—" her tongue ran up and down your lips, collecting most of the slick you have accumulated. she looked up at you with a proud smirk. "fuckin' slut."

your fingers uncontrollably tangled with her hair, tugging on it while your free hand gripped the bed sheets. your cunt was still sensitive after being filled with her strap, so her soothing tongue felt comfortingly painful. she lightly sucked on your clit, forcing a desperate moan out of you.

"so you're the smart one? is that right?" she asked, her voice interrupted by either your little gasps or her breaks to plant another kiss on your core. "why don't you say something smart then?" her mocking tone echoed in your head as you tried to form a sentence. before you could, she stuck her tongue in your throbbing hole, making your thighs snap shut. she quickly helped them regain to their previous position, not pulling her hands away for longer than needed as if she wanted to make sure her fingers will leave a reminder, in form of at least reddening your sensitive skin or, most likely, giving you some bruises.

you felt your climax approaching so soon it felt embarrassing, truly embarrassing. you started babbling nonsense as your cunt clenched around her tongue, which continued to fuck in and out of you.

the amazing feeling suddenly left, replaced by her thumb roughly circling your clit. you watched as she sat up and smiled down at you, licking her lips in a temptingly slow way. the brat living inside of you was the first one to speak up, huffing out her name in an obviously annoyed gesture.

"c'mon." she cooed in a mockingly sweet voice, making sure her thumb is doing a good job. good job at torturing, ruining and making you even more desperate, if that's even possible. "what would a smart girl say in your situation?" she clicked her tongue, making you feel all the control you had slid out between your fingers and sink into the bed sheets. no matter how much you didn't want to admit it, someone finally managed to make you feel hopeless.

"but, ellie, look—" you whined, trying to take as much satisfaction from the touch she was giving you, but it only seemed like a pathetic version of what you could have. you could have way more. you needed way more.

"i don't want to hear any buts." she stopped her thumb, hardly pressing it against your clit, staring at you with stern and serious eyes which you weren't used to see from her. "we both know what a smart girl should say, yeah? aren't you one? are you admitting you're just a slut?" she sighed as if she was disappointed in you.

you shook your head, closing your eyes from the mix of all possible emotions; from embarrassment to proudness. "please, need— need you and... oh, please, ellie..." you broke, begging for more in the most miserable way imaginable.

she bitterly laughed, murmuring an amused "god, you're really a slut" under her breath. her thumb left your clit and both of her hands found their place on your thighs, making you hiss at the touch of your earlier irritated skin. you whined, the sound of your rambling slowly drifting away and getting replaced by just as beautiful moans. you heard her voice but you didn't really understand what she said, nor paid any attention to it, as your mind went blank. your hips kept waving up and down, trying to add to the feeling. your miserable attempts earned either a chuckle or scoff from ellie, but she didn't even try to stop you, enjoying this as much as you.

hooking up with bimbo's might be easy, but making a mess out of a girl smarter than her was way more satisfying.

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 2: Date 1 Pt. 1

Note: Thank you so much for the love you all have been showing this story so far! Thank you for reading, and for the kinds messages I have received thus far! I love interacting and seeing your thoughts and comments so keep 'em coming. I want to take this time to remind you that these characters will be flawed. Rafe is....Rafe, but we love him anyway. And Milan is...someone who is compatible with Rafe. They won't always be the depiction of a healthy relationship, but this is fiction and fun. This chapter isn't too bad, but those who have read the snippet know how it's gonna get. Once again, I have songs for this ship so if anyone is interested in them let me know, and feel free to share some with me if you catch a vibe. Finally, let me know if you have any questions or comments. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. This one is a lot shorter than chapter 1, but it is a 2 parter, so don't hate me. Love ya! <3333

“Wait.”

Rafe pauses, loosening his grip on Milan’s hair and pulling back slightly, irritated that she’d stopped him just as their lips brushed and she breathed the smoke he’d just poured into her mouth between them. “What? What’s up?”

“I don’t,” She sighs, her cool breath on his face, eyes still shut as if she’s forcing herself to pause this moment between them. “I don’t just hook up with guys, you know? Maybe we could…I dunno.”

Oh. Oh. Rafe understands. He’d…he’d forgotten himself for a moment. This isn’t some touron stumbling onto the couch next to him, throwing herself at him. She wasn’t one of those gold digging bitches that tries to fuck  him with faulty condoms in the bottom of her purse. She’s the kind of girl who has her own shit. She doesn’t need him for a come up. Or at least she doesn’t think she does. 

He arrogantly thinks to himself that Milan hasn’t met a man like Rafe Cameron. He’s spent most of his life preparing, becoming the type of man that can run his family, keep them safe and comfortable. The type of son fathers are proud to have and the type of man women want to give a baby. That’s the man who he’s made himself be. 

Rafe had been so focused, only allotting himself time for a little bit of fun once in a while, he’d forgotten that one day he might stumble across a girl that had the potential to be a woman. His woman. 

He nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls back more, releasing her head completely and smoothing his hand back onto her knee. “Nah, I get it. We should get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Milan perches herself up at that, back straightening even more as her face lights up. “Really? You wanna spend the day with me?”

Rafe rests his head back on the top of the couch, sweeping his thumb on her bottom lip before biting his own and nodding. “Yeah, I wanna show you a good time. Get you a little more comfortable with me so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.”

Both sets.

“Okay, wait, I’m excited. You’re gonna be my first friend here.”

“Friend?” Rafe scoffs. “‘M’not gonna be your friend, Princess.”

“Well,” Milan shrugs, “Like, I don’t know what I could call you, you’re not my man-”

“Yet. Not your man yet.” He and the woman next to him share twin smiles and Rafe only becomes more invigorated by Milan’s eyeroll and shy grin. “Roll your eyes if you want to, I’m a determined guy.” 

“Determined?”

“Yeah, like I know what I like, I work for what I want, so-”

“So what?” Milan giggles, “You…you want me? I should get ready or something?”

“Yeah.” Rafe says flippantly, as if he wasn’t essentially making a threat of courtship to a girl he’d just met like 12 hours before. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d fully wanted from her yet. But the need to have her was nagging at him. Maybe it was lust. She was hot, forbidden fruit for him. He could hear the curses Ward would spit at him now if he fucked around and ruined things with this girl, made an enemy of her dad. Maybe it was how sweet she seems. He’s always liked shiny, new things. When he was a kid, he had to have stuff before his friends did. Toys. Shoes. Stocks. Maybe he’s graduated to feeling that way about women. 

Something about how he doesn’t want to look away. Something about the way she was smiling at him, how he’s talked to her the most, how in a room full of guys drooling over her, those big pretty eyes were locked on him. Rafe felt like he had to look into this weird feeling she’s been stirring in his chest since he’d seen her. 

It’s what’s best for Milan anyway. None of the rest of these limp dick motherfuckers should have her. They’re not real men. Not like Rafe.

Milan hums as she removes the golden under eye patches from under her eyes, massaging in the serum they leave atop of her skin. Grimacing at a gust of damp wind from outside she pads against the marble floor of her bathroom and pushes the double doors leading to the patio attached closed. “Stupid, island humidity.” She pouts as she combs through her bob again, praying for no puffiness today.

The sky fights to brighten in the early morning. It’s 5:00 a.m. and Rafe Cameron was going to be picking her up in 30 minutes. 

After the party last night Sarah had run over to her on the front lawn, hugging her tightly before declaring she was going home with John B. and offering for Milan to come with them. When she declines with a smile, the blonde fixes her brother with a glare, to which he’d returned with a middle finger, and stumbled off in her man’s arms. 

Rafe drove Milan back to her house and parked them out front, eyes carefully rotating between staring at Milan sitting pretty in his passenger seat, and watching for a sign of her father at the door. He let her toy with his fingers as she fluttered her lashes at him and he described what he does throughout the day, Or, rather, what they’d be doing today.

When he’d mentioned picking her up after the gym Milan had jumped at the opportunity to go with him. She loved going to the gym every morning before she’d moved and she was happy to keep it going. And it wouldn’t hurt to see Rafe work out. 

It was all she could think about. It’s not just his height. Even though he’s so…so tall. At least 6’2. Rafe is big. Muscle. Strength. Yesterday he’d basically hoisted her full weight into his truck with one arm. The preppy boy polo that he’d thrown on for their families hadn’t hidden anything and his tight crew neck that he wore to the party basically outlined everything for her. 

She quite literally wanted him to throw her around like a ragdoll. Or let her climb him like a tree. Whatever, Rafe is hot. 

He has an intense vibe, seemingly takes himself very seriously. But, Milan figures she could relax him. Loosen him up a little bit. 

They were gonna have so much fun. Smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, Milan spritzes vanilla Sol de Janeiro and all but fucking skips down the steps and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Milan, you’re awake early. I just started prepping for breakfast, but I could make you a coffee while you wait.” The private chef that her parents had hired a couple years ago had made the move with them. They’d paid for her to come with them to Outer Banks and offered to increase her salary because…well…it wasn’t their nice home in Quebec that she was used to. 

“No, thank you, Miss Ally.” Milan reaches over, stealing a newly washed strawberry and biting into it. “And my parents aren’t awake, right?”

“Of course not. You know your mother won’t roll out of bed until she smells the food cooking and your dad won’t come until I’ve had to warm it up twice. Why? Are you alright, honey?”

The younger woman nods, tossing the green stem into the trash and reaching for two travel cups. “Can you keep a secret? I have, like, a date today.” 

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, with a guy. He’s really cute, and sweet. So,” Milan begins sifting matcha, smiling down at the cup and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “‘M’gonna hang out with him today.”

“Less than 48 hours and there’s a boy, huh? Atta girl.” Miss Ally passes Milan the vanilla protein powder. “You’ve been worried about the move, thinking it was a bad idea, and here you are making friends.”

“Mhm, hot ones. With blue eyes and dimples.”

“And where,” Ally nudges Milan out of the way as she pours the hot water into the travel mug, “am I supposed to tell your parents you are when you’re out with Mr. Blue Eyes and Dimples?” 

“Touring the island.” She chirps. 

“With who?”

“Just like…generally. They should be cool with it honestly, I just know they’re gonna make it weird, but like, he’s the son of Dad’s first friend here so he shouldn’t be mad. How come he gets a boyfriend and I don’t?”

“Oh, just say that to your parents, I’m sure they’ll go for it then.” Ally snorts, whisking the eggs as Milan seals the travel mugs, laughing to herself as the girl slides both of the pink cups to the end of the counter next to her gym bag.

When Rafe pulls up outside of the Cabot house, he texts Milan before hopping out of his truck and jogging up the cobblestone. He agreed not to ring the doorbell because her parents were awake but he’d be damned if he didn’t pick her up at the door. 

As he stands on at the doorstep he adjusts the hat he has rested on his head and rocks on his feet impatiently. He isn’t waiting long. The door swings open and he’s immediately hit with the sweet smell of vanilla and soon after is met with the walking wet dream carrying the scent. 

“Good morning!” Milan grins, tossing her arms around his neck, bouncing up into his arms. Rafe isn’t fucking stupid, he’s quick to catch her around the waist and squeeze, relishing in the feeling of her pressed against him. 

“Morning, princess.” he murmurs into her hair, squeezing her again for good measure before placing her back on her feet.  “You, uh, you always go to the gym in shit like that?”

“Shit like what? Stop.” she laughs as he snaps the elastic of her leggings. 

“You just look good. That’s all I’m sayin’.” He chews the gum in his mouth and nudges her chin with his knuckle, mumbling, “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” she grins, looking away from him briefly. “I made…I made you something, like a gym drink or whatever.

“That’s cute sweetheart, what do you like me or somethin’?” Rafe snorts, choosing to ignore the fact that the travel mug she was pushing into his hands was bubble gum pink. He holds his hand out to her, not even looking back as he starts guiding her over to his truck. When he hears a little shuffle from her he looks back and glances down at her feet. “What the fuck, your shoes aren’t tied.”

“Okay, one of them untied when I was making you this delicious protein shake and I didn’t wanna make you wait-” 

“Christ.” Rafe grunts, unlocking his car and wrenching the door open, planting his hands on Milan’s waist and hoisting her into the seat easily. He tugs her foot onto his lap and begins tying the lace of her sneaker tightly. “Gonna break your fuckin’ neck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall, Rafe-”

“You literally were letting me drag you down those steps.” When he’s done Rafe lifts her leg into the car, closing the door and walking around the driver’s side and climbing in. After he clicks his seatbelt on, he pauses and frowns when he sees Milan’s pout staring forward at the road. He puffs out a breath. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t said ‘thank you’. For your drink.” 

“Wh-are you serious?”

“Yes. You seriously haven’t said ‘thank you.’” 

“Uh…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he observes the girl. Arms crossed, dramatic frown on her pretty, glossed lips, knees pointed away from him. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she immediately warms up, clicking her own seatbelt on and taking a sip of her drink, moving back to the middle of her seat. As Rafe tries to sort through what quick, guerilla warfare he’d just experienced, he starts driving the car. 

So that’s her game. She’s cute and pretty and pouts like a fuckin’ brat when she doesn’t feel like she’s getting what she wants. Or someone is saying something she doesn’t wanna hear. All she’s showing me is that I’m exactly what she needs.

“M’just sayin’ like your shirt’s a little slutty. Like it’s tight, I can see your nipples and everything.”

“Don’t say shit like that, what the fuck?” 

“It’s like tight and stuff, like it’s a little bit of a hoochie shirt.” 

“Hoo-hoochie shirt. Fuckin’ brat.” Rafe shakes his head. In the time it’s taken to drive to the gym and for Rafe to put his card down to get Milan a temporary membership, she’d clearly been trying to test him. She was pushing boundaries to see what he would and wouldn’t accept. And he would try to be patient. But the jokes weren’t gonna be as funny when he was using her mouth for what he really wanted to use it for. Not now. He had to wait. To humor her. She was cute. He’d give her that. Maybe he needed to be cute back. “Don’t work out in the damn shirt anyway,” 

Milan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Rafe from where she’s stretching on the floor. She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to herself in the mirror as he easily tugs the tight shirt off of his chiseled muscles, tossing it into his gym bag next to her. 

Jesus. She bites her lip, berating herself inwardly as she glances at the tanned skin he was now baring for the world to see, six pack on display as he starts doing some standing stretches. “Here, sweetheart.” Rafe crouches next to her, pushing one of his airpods into her ear. “You, uh, didn’t have headphones, so you can just listen to my shit.”

“Can we make a spotify jam?”

“What?”

“So, I can add songs too, can we make a jam? And we’d be listening to the same thing, at the same time, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, sure why the fuck not? You’re not gonna add any corny shit are you? M��trustin’ you with my workout. Like that’s pretty fuckin’ special.”

“Oh my God, Rafe, I’m…I’m sure we have basically the same taste in music.”

Rafe and Milan are at war for essentially their whole warm up. They agree to separate for cardio and then meet back up for them both to try some of each other’s usual workouts. With the shared music blasting in their ears, they both still felt like they were hanging out for the 40 minutes that they are apart. Rafe spent half of his run on the treadmill listening to Beyoncé and Sabrina Carpenter’s discographies while Milan genuinely flinched on the stairmaster with Travis Scott and 50 Cent pounding against her ear drums. Both of them looking at each other with sick satisfaction when it was their turn to pick a song, making a game out of picking something they thought would irritate the other more. 

Rafe had finally had enough and started skipping Milan’s picks when the High School Musical Soundtrack started playing, eventually coming to pluck her off of her machine to start doing weights as Troy began singing about wanting his own dream. 

By now they’d both finished their protein shakes and felt like they had a lot of energy. Well, at least they both did. Until Rafe started making Milan do his workouts.

She was both turned on and enraged as he demonstrates different forms of weightlifting, chuckling at her deeply as she struggles to do another set. “Mmkay, okay, that’s enough, I’m done with that.”

“Nah, you didn’t even finish that one, c’mon let’s go.”

“Rafe, no” she whines getting off of the bench. Milan immediately gasps as Rafe fists the fabric at the front of her leggings, lifting her off of her feet and physically placing her back onto the equipment. 

Slapping her thigh, he offers her a no-nonsense look that lets her know that she isn’t getting up until she completes this workout to his satisfaction. “Baby, let’s go, stop fuckin’ around.”

Shit. Yes sir. “I want…breakfast food after this. Like, waffles, and butter and stuff.”

“'Let me come to the gym with you, Rafe. I wanna where my cute little outfit and not workout.'”

“Asshole.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Wait…until we start doing my pilates workout. All those muscles will mean…nothing.”

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” He smirks, grabbing the weight to ease it down against her before helping her off. “That your excuse? Can’t focus?”

“Stop…being mean, worst date ever.” She whines, leaning her head against his chest. 

Rafe pats Milan’s ass twice before nudging her into the direction of the next machine. "Best fuckin' date of your life, brat."

“Are you gonna keep staring at my butt or are you gonna try again?” Milan calls over to Rafe. 

“My body is not built for that girly shit. You keep goin’ though.” He says. Milan rolls her eyes and continues on the machine, pausing when she sees the reflection of a camera flash in the mirror. “Damn, flash was on.”

“Rafe!”

“You look good, baby. I thought you’d like me to be all sentimental and shit, capture our first date.”

“Oh my God. You’re like, not even working out at this point.”

He shrugs, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “You’re the one who got an attitude when that girl asked me to spot her and made us change floors.

“She saw you with me.” Milan hisses through her teeth, pausing her movements. “She was trying to be funny.” 

“Think so?” Rafe scoffs, squirting water into his mouth from the bottle he’d kept in his bag. 

“Yeah, but if you liked the attention you could go back down.”

Rafe wets his bottom lip at that. Being at the gym with Milan has been fun. Turns out, he likes talking to her, which is more than what he could say for the majority of the population. She’s sexy, and doesn’t mind him being handsy. She seemed to all but expect him to pat her ass in encouragement after she finishes anything. She likes for him to teach her, guide her movements, place her on and off of machines. She likes to whine and have him sort her out. And she’s possessive. Jealous. Normally the concept of having someone police him sounds emasculating and unacceptable to Rafe. But watching her pretty little face turn into a scowl as she watched girls check him out or come up to him like they always did in the gym? It turned him on bad. 

She matched his crazy. It didn’t matter that it was their first date, the same way Rafe’s lip curled in disgust as he caught the fuckheads wandering the gym eyeing her before he stepped in their line of vision, Milan would physically place herself in front of his view, guiding his eyes to her and away from any girl delusional enough to think they were as bad as her.

But her mouth when she’s frustrated. That was something Rafe was gonna have to work on. Lucky for the both of them, a stern warning seemed to be enough for now. Rafe stalks over to where she’s sitting, stepping on the machine behind her and wrapping his hand loosely around her neck, pushing the back of her head to rest on the front of his stomach. Milan looks up at him through her lashes, as he pushes his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her mouth and squirting a little water in from his water bottle. He fixes her with a disapproving look. “Chill out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed you up here, right?”

“Yeah.” she says softly, leaning into his hand.

“Alright then. Let’s not worry about the wrong things.”

After 3 hours at the gym the two of them hit the showers, separately despite both of their hesitation to separate again. They walk out of the building in different clothes and Rafe’s arm strewn over Milan’s shoulder, holding her hand where it came up to meet his own. He has to hide his smirk when he catches her making eye contact with the girl who’d asked Rafe to spot her as they walked out, a bright smile on her face. 

He was starting to like this pretty little thing more and more. Rafe lifts her back into the car, this time buckling her seatbelt for her before getting into the driver’s side. He finds that Milan can talk…a lot. She has jumped from topic to topic in the 15 minute drive more than Rafe thinks he can in 2 hours. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t find her annoying. Rafe finds his cheeks dimpling as he listens to her yap about her favorite tv shows, a movie she wants him to watch, her plans for her next nails set and thinking about getting highlights in her hair.

All the while she rubs his bicep, leaning into him as he holds her thigh in his large hand. He offers her small mumbles of acknowledgement to let her know he’s still listening. ‘Hm.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Sound’s good, baby.’ 

“You’re not listening to me.” she sighs, looking out the window as they pull into the restaurant. “M’talkin’ too much.”

“Nah, I like that shit. I’d let you know if I’d had enough.” Rafe places his hand on the back of her headrest as he backs into the spot. “But, uh, my head’s always movin’ right? I’m thinkin’ while I listen.”

Milan watches as he shifts gears and places his truck in the middle of two spots, declaring under his breath he doesn’t want anyone ‘fuckin’ up his truck’ to justify taking up two spots. “So…okay. What’re you, like, thinking about? While you’re listening to me.”

“Uh, honestly?” He asks. Intense blue eyes rest on soft brown ones. Milan just nods, turning more toward him. “How fuckin’ hot you are. Pretty fuckin’ distracting.”

“Oh.” She says.

“Yeah. Oh. Does that throw you off or something, like, oh is a weird response-”

“No, I was just saying oh, like-”

“Okay, because, I’m being pretty fuckin’ clear and you’re-”

Milan unclips her seatbelt quickly. Before Rafe can blink her soft lips are pressed against his and before he can kiss her back she’s back in her seat, pulling down the mirror and fumbling in her purse for her lipgloss. “I wasn’t supposed to kiss you until our first date was over. I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Rafe chuckles lowly as she fumbles in her purse, dropping it and spilling its contents all over her lap and the floor of the car. “Oh my God.”

“Did you, uh,” He pauses, trying not to openly bark out a laugh at her, scratching his head. “Did you only bring lip gloss and perfume? Like, no wallet. At all.”

“Okay…” Milan starts slowly, “I understand that looks bad, and like, people believe in that 50-50 stuff now, and so I shouldn’t-”

“Baby, the fuck do I look like? I wouldn’t be taking you out if I couldn’t afford to, I’m not a fuckin’ pogue.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about that fuckin’ peck, that wasn’t a real kiss.” It shocks her how easy it is for Rafe to scoot his chair back and pull her into his lap. “This is the shit you should worry about.”

Rafe Cameron pulls Milan Cabot into the nastiest kiss that either of them had ever fantasized about, let alone experienced. He holds her jaw, working his own open as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her whimpers and humming against her. He separates their mouths briefly to kiss down her neck only to drag back up to her lips, chuckling darkly when she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, gripping her thigh with his free hand as he drools into her open mouth. 

When he pulls away for the final time he rests his head back on the headrest, pushing his thumb into her mouth and releasing a breath as he watches her obediently suck on it. 

By the time they step out of the car to head into the nice breakfast restaurant he’d brought her to, Rafe had willed his…friend to go down, and they had undone the damage he’d done to Milan’s makeup and hair. As he guided her in by the waist, tugging down the hem of her pretty little dress to cover the ass he’d just been gripping he felt a feeling of superiority. The woman next to him was relying on him and him alone to lead her around. All the loser fuckers they passed on the way to their table could stare all they wanted. They could take a mental picture and store it away in their sick little spank banks for later until they came to the realization they’d never get a girl like Milan and finally blew their fucking brains out. But she was here with Rafe. And that’s how he expected it to be from here on out.

He’d decided. She was gonna be his.

[vigilskeep]

With Bea being your potential canon Inquisitor, how would your protagonists feel about each other?

keir and minerva don’t easily trust each other. he sees someone manipulative and dangerous who is always acting for her own agenda and doesn’t take proper care of her own people. she sees exactly the kind of big heavily armed human man throwing threats and physical violence around that all her life experiences have taught her wariness and dislike for. they’re both very accustomed to being the scariest thing in the room and have a tendency to get territorial. however, they have ferelden in common (whatever keir’s other thoughts, he will always owe respect to the saviour of his homeland) and someone they love in common (whatever minerva’s other thoughts, she will always owe a helping hand to the person anders cares about, and who kept anders safe when she couldn’t be there). once they get to know each other and have some picture of why the other acts like they do, it’s not all bad. probably. eventually

keir always looks at beatrice and sees someone else. he sees his beloved sister, as the sheltered young andrastian noblewoman she might have been. he sees the sebastian who was once his friend, both his earnest kindness and his inclination for fanaticism. and he sees grand cleric elthina, a woman whose unassuming appearance never changed the amount of power she wielded and what a profound danger she was. he is never sure which of these is closest to the truth and it creates a mixture of protective sympathy and real fear he finds a little sickening. for her side, she finds him somewhat intimidating on a basic interpersonal level. which he... kind of fundamentally is, lmao. arguably they’re both free marcher nobles but they’re from such drastically different worlds of experience all the same. she gets most of her information on him from the excitement and romance of hushed gossip or varric’s stories. the reality has more harsher extremes than she would like. but she wants to believe he’s a hero and that they’re on the same side

minerva harbours particular dislikes of sickly-sweet earnestness, “overly” pious andrastians, warden hero worship, and people who simply have power drop into their lap and then don’t even have any idea what to do with it. beatrice is precisely a combination of those things. she is... not likely to be minerva’s favourite person in the world. however, on minerva’s return from wherever she is, she would forced to admit through gritted teeth that bea is not only genuinely well-intentioned but straightforwardly a political ally. she is literally going to be the one who legitimises the mage rebellion and ushers in the end of the circle of magi. on those grounds, minerva will contain herself from whatever the political equivalent is of unhinging her jaw like a snake and eating the poor girl alive. she would kind of be visibly containing herself from doing that if they ever met and it would be a pretty unsettling experience for everyone involved. bea is at present blissfully unaware of all that and continues to think of minerva as a great warden hero and would hotly defend her against any heinous rumours of blood magic and involving herself in politics more than wardens should

(bea’s perspective needs the most work here because she’s newer. i’m also working with current bea, as in, early game dai bea the bright-eyed idealist who believes andraste has chosen her. she definitely believes in heroes—in a fun, weirdly meta, a little self-important way, she’s probably very aware of the idea of herself, minerva, and keir as the three “protagonists” of the dragon age so far. i think the bea we end up with by trespasser might have a very different take on the other two after she ends up with a very different take on herself, but i haven’t gotten there yet. i suspect that at great personal cost she may even develop a personality minerva would find bearable to be around 😭)

[quilly72]

Part 2 MiracleGro

Hurry up hurry up. - We will just say the last couple weeks had been rough for everyone in the Kansas area. That stupid formula and that stupid fire had sent the county into a state of panic. You and your wife amber had to have water shipped from Colorado just to be safe. - You ran out to the carport as you tried to drag the last of your supplies into the storm shelter. You could see a slight mist forming off in the distance as the rain and the storm approached Fuck come on hurry up as you dragged the rest of the rations towards your home.

- The storm was approaching just a week earlier the growth formula this new company had created accidentally escaped into the atmosphere in a fire that sent the entire place to the ground. The first girl to be affected was something like 250 ft tall now and had been dragged off by the government to who knows where. They all thought that was the end of it. But the storm didn't break up like they thought. By the time your little ranching community got warning that it was coming towards you at full force it was too late to run.

You quickly ran back to the garage to try and grab everything you needed to hunker down. Emergency blankets food and water. As you grabbed your final armload you turned to see the water sprinkling around you. Any drop could potentially carry the formula. Even the slightest drop could mean an irreversible change to your body.

As the rain started to pick up you looked at the little unroofed gap you would have to jump. Taking a deep breath as you took the emergency blanket out of its packaging and wrapping it around yourself. As soon as you felt it was good enough you leaped. The shattering of raindrops across plastic being heard as you landed on the other side. Instinctively you thrashed the blanket away from you as soon as you were under cover. Patting yourself down as you assured yourself you were dry.

You got back up and darted in with the rest of the supplies. Putting the supplies on the tarp with all your food and dragging it thru the door.

Amber amber open the basement door you yelled thru the house. You heard the door unlock and the slight scurrying of your gf behind it. You came to the hallway as she was holding the door open. Here throw these things down for me. You should have checked harder but instinctively no one really perceives water as a threat. The puddle at the bottom of the tarp didn't catch you off guard as you started handing her cans and water bottles. She grabbed them and threw them down the short stairway as you picked up a can from the bottom of the tarp as soon as you picked it up the weight shifted and the water pooled outthe sides. Not alot but just enough to do it's damage. You tried to dodge it tossing the wet can against ambers pants in the process but you werent fast enough. Your shoes immediately soaking thru as amber backed away and screamed.

Ypu tried to strip your wet clothes off but you couldn't grab it without getting your hands wet . Amber however was a bit luckier managing to drag her pants amd shoes off before they soaked all the way thru or atleast she thought. She backed up as you struggled to pry your clothes off as the water seeped across your skin.

The tingle going thru your body as you groaned. It was almost instantaneous with how much you were exposed to. Amber gasped as your clothes started to hang off of you. Your shirt dragging down. Your head lowering against hers. You were too busy too notice until you looked back up.

Amber was already twice your height. You were at her hips. She stared back at you as you started to become buried in your own clothes. Tears coming to her eyes as she opened the basement door and hid herself behind it.

Babe wait help me just grab a towel or something

Wait wait don't leave me.

Your voice pitching up as you were now at her thighs. Then her knees. Then her calves. You were as wide around as both her lower legs were. Her feet half your size. You could probably fit inside your own shoe if needed for a bed. You pants and shirt constrained you as they continued to drag you down. They were so heavy. You tried to reach up as amber shut the door with a stifled cry.

*** Amber held back her cries as she shut and locked the door. It wasnt long before his voice trailed off into little mouse squeaks. There was nothing she could do for him. Meanwhile she lowered herself down the stairs with what she had. Turning on the lights there was more than enough for just her for multiple days. Amber grabbed a towel as she took his advice and tried to make sure she was completely dry. Running it through her hair. Her legs her feet her face. The towel lifted off just as dry as before as amber took a sigh of relief.

She started to check all the windows all the walls for leaks as she made sure everything was all dry as well. Everything coming back satisfactory as she made her way to the supplies. The rain grew thicker outside almost loud enough to drown out her worries. She combed thru her supplies with a towel as she tried to make a plan right now all she had to worry about was dinner. She knelt down next to her first set of food as she failed to hear water trickling down the stairs. The puddle her boyfriend had fallen victim to never being cleaned up. There was only one entrance in this entire basement not sealed to water and it trickled closer and closer almost as if the water had a mind of its own.

Amber didn't even feel it as it puddled next to her foot. Touching and eclipsing her heel as she squatted next to her food slowly unraveling a packet of granola bars.

It wasnt till she broke contact did amber feel the tingle shoot up thru her leg and out into the rest of her body.

Amber's eyes grew wide as she turned around. She saw it now. Water trickling down the stairs step by step. The water had leaked into the house and now into the basement and as the rain grew heavier so did the flooding. The small puddle at the foot of the stairs growing inch by inch and expanding faster as more water started to pour thru the crack at the bottom of the door.

Amber grabbed her towel as she tried to wipe off her foot. The less water and less time she was exposed the less damage it would do.

Although some had already been done. She grunted and whined as her leg tingled and spasmed longer. Her knees buckled under the unforeseen pressure as her body sprung up half an inch. Amber's breathing picked up as she tried to calm herself. I'm fine it's fine I got it off In time I'll only grow abit and then I'm done. I can do with an extra foot or two.

Amber tried to compose herself as all the statistics flew thru her mind. Even a small drop could cause up to 5 ft of growth but only if you let it fully soak in. If you dried the affected area you could cut the growth short and maybe only be caught with an extra foot or even two if you were unlucky.

Her legs tingled and wobbled again as she moaned thru but lips. Another inch pressing out as her feet pressed against the floor. Her head rushed with lightheadedness as the ground seemed to press away. It was just an inch but how disorientated just one inch and some panic can do.

Fuck fuck fuck okay first things firrrrsssst. Amber croaked our as her chest lifted up. Her boobs gaining a cup size in justa. Couple seconds. Her bra straps pressing into her shoulders. Amber tried to focus as the water puddle at the foot of the stairs seemed to not be slowing down. Checking the windows outside showed the reason why. There was almost what looked like 6 to 8 inches of water flooding outside. And it was easily making it's way down to their basement. The thundering of the waterfall at the stairs backed it up. As the water Continued to lap closer and closer. Amber grabbed some plastic lining as she tried to create a wall. She laid some plastic and bricks against the floor but the water just seeped underneath it before she could weigh it dully down.

She was quickly running out of...fuucckck ...room

Amber sprung up again this time 2 Inches all at once. Her legs were violently shaking. They seemed to be taking most of the brunt of the growth as amber looked down and took a self assessment. Her feet seemed to be 3 sizes larger and her underwear rode Into her hips like she was wearing so thing 2 sizes too small. Her body churned and groaned as she leveled out. She wobbled as she tried to catch her balance. As she looked around she guessed she was maybe 4 inches taller or so it was too hard to tell.

Meanwhile amber continued to back up her growth not helping her cause as the door continued to let the water rip inside. The windows and thundering outside showed that the rain wasn't calming down and even some of the windows were starting to let drops or trickles down the wall. Amber backed up to one of their shelfs at the edge of the basement as the water pressed closer and closer. It was like a bathtub rapidly filling up the entire space leaving no ground unsubmerged. Amber pressed all the way against the shelves as her eyes darted from side to side. Looking for dry ground. She hurled towels and blankets at the water trying to slow its progress as it continued to soak and infiect everything it touched.

Amber took a high pitched shrilled breath as she grew again. Her butt pressing into the shelf and then over it as she inched further up. Her eyes clenching shut as the electricity boiled over and thru her skin. Her legs almost giving out. As they stretched out again maybe another two inches. Amber panicked under her breath as her head leveled up to one of the higher shelves. She had to be pushing just under 6 ft by now. As her long shirt dragged further up her body and sat on the back of her ass like a shelf itself.

Left with nowhere to go amber started to lean on and then shuffle upthe shelves. The thin wood creaking under her as the water creeped it's way all the way to the wall. No officially just inching up taller and taller closer and closer to her. The entire place was submerged as the water Continued to press inside.

She took a breath as she shuffled up another shelf just in case. But she couldn't calm herself. The wood kept creaking. She couldn't rest her arms were already starting to get weak as her center of gravity wasn't resting over anything.

Amber felt another tingle building In her legs as she whimpered. She tucked it inside as she tried to hold it back. Her legs shook as she clung to the walls of the shelves tighter. Her fingers clasping whatever they could to keep her balance. Her face clenched with unreleased energy. Her eyes held shut as if she were trying to blot out all the light that could come in. Her brows furrowed as her entire body started to creak and groan. Her body almost shivering from the pressure.

Please no please nooot agaainn Just stop I can't fall not now just please...fuuuu... Amber clenched her mouth biting her lips as her body vi rated more and more. She couldn't hold it any longer. She shrieked loud enough to be heard thru the house thruthe thundering as her body grew again. 3 whole inches. Her entire body was hit by it all at once. Her breasts bulged into the framework of the shelves. Folding over and under the shelf they pressed into. Her straps digging into her back causing it to go red in seconds.

Her head shot up and hit the top shelf as a sharp pain shot thru her. Her arms twitched as they elongated. Her ass bubbled backwards as her thighs and hips stretched and groaned to compensate.

With all of that what really did her in was her legs. Her feet and legs shivered and trembled with growth as they shot downwards. Her left foot cracking and breaking the shelf as it shot thru like a bullet. Not much growth but just enough to lose her balance Her body weight dragged down and before amber could regain her footing she fell down. Her arms too weak to hold her up alone.

Amber failed as she lost her balance. First her feet splashed in then the back of her calves. She threw her hands back to catch herself as she landed on her butt. The water splashing out and them back onto her before she could ever try to get out. The water lapped a quarter of the way up her legs.

Before amber could even try to get back up and out her body shot out in every direction. She was overcome with electricity of growth as her legs flailed out a foot. Water rushing and pushing away as her ass doubled in size. Her hair fell down her back as her thong ripped off if her. Next was her bra which feebly fell to water as her chest gained 5 cup sizes. Her torso gained a foot as her head shot up towards the roof.

Nooo fuuuck ahahhhhh HEEEELlLLLLPPpPP

Ambers voice quivered as her body thrashed in the water. Her body trembling shaking g and violently exploding out. Her thighs rippled the water out of the way inches at a time. Her ass thrashing the water up against the walls as it billowed out surge after surge. Her hair floated out into the water as the top of her head slammed into the wooden crossbeams underneath her house. Her back folding and pushing up against the foundation as well as the house above her began to creek ND groan. Her arms failed out to the concrete sides as they powederized and cracked due to the force of her arms. Her screams drowned out the rain. Each new surge sent foot after foot yard after yard piling out into her and everything surrounding ding her. The water level rising I side the basement as her body filled more space. Uer legs toppled and crumbled shelves. Cans and storage bins crumpling underneath and between her body. The wood above her finally snapped as she tore thru the splinters and beams up Into the living room above. The water from above pouring over her chest as it blossomed out into the shrapnel of wood. Forcing the beams to fold and spli ter more as her chest burst thru the floor. It wasnt long before her head hit the roof of the house. The support beams feebly putting up half a fight as she pressed into them. Her head was the size of her couch which coincidentally was being crushed between her tits which had just flooded her living room. Shattering her TV against the wall.

Down below ambers knees folded up into the floor as her feet pressed cabinetry into concrete and the windows and cement started to crack and press out into the earth around. More water flooding in drowning her lower body as she continued to let out moans and screams as she clenched her body in perpetual potential energy. Always having too much pressure to release at once like a sneeze that never full came but just continued to build up.

Amber ruptured out into the storm above as her head broke out into the rain. The roof folding down into her boobs which bounced it back outwards as chest ruptured thru the attic. Her butt filling g the entire basement underneath with her thighs as her two legs came toppling up and out thruthe front of the house. Her arms shoulders and waist following suit as her body became fully exposed to the elements.

Surge after surge. Amber began to lose herself to the storm. Her feet and legs draping off past the fog to the point that she couldn't see them. Her chest dragged so heavy that she fell to her back lieing down as her torso crushed the rest of her house under her. Her vision darkening as her legs dragged further into the flooded dirt. Her body rolling over into her neigh or's houses as the crushing of wood and stone rolled like thunder The meadows of wheat crushed under her legs as they plowed further across the road. She was too weak to fight or move or scream as she felt her body finally stop absorbing the water. Her body's trembling no longer shaking the earth and leveling foundations around her.

***

3 hours later the storm clouds finally passed. Harmlessly passing off into the countryside and growing the crops to ungodly sizes for culling. Rescue teams in full water tight suits poured put into the small towns found caught in the rainstorms. Helicopters and trucks fling in to assess the damage and rescue the needy.

The channel 35 news helicopter flew over as they counted those who had grown out and now lay over towns all at varying sizes and shapes. They circled the area as they identified one woman stuck halfway inside and halfway outside a gas station maybe around 40 ft tall.

Another who stood completely naked in a what field around 175 ft tall. One lay across half the town as she looked to measure 2 football fields Off in the distance they noted amber. Laying unconscious across the fields a couple miles outside town laying at what was to later be recorded at 763 ft and 2 inches. A new state record atleast for now.

[aquato-family-circus]

Interns & Teachers hcs best to worst

Morris obvs we know doesn't wanna trade his mentorship with Milla so they must get along well, or at least he thinks so! I think he really respects and admires her, and wants to impress her. Milla on her part is textually a very good teacher and caregiver so she probably has given Morris a lot to work with to grow and improve. Maybe Morris was even more of a rascal and trouble maker before we met him and Milla taught him to at least put that energy toward something productive. Like Pirate Radio!

I don't USUALLY like going to extra material for things I think are true but the art book says Adam is senior to the other interns which I think implies he actually has spent plenty of time with Truman, rather than the impression the game gives of "none at all hes in a coma, lol".

That being said I imagine their mentorship is on a very professional feeling level. they get along and maybe Truman even tries to be friendly and casual with the boy, but Adam is super focused on being a good student and working on his big historical project. After the mole incicent though maybe he loosens up! He nearly lost the chance to talk to his mentor ever again after all.

Gisu and Otto are super duper casual in contrast to Adam and Truman. Gisu skateboards into his lab, yells WHATS UP TEACH! Otto says something abt his latest project before throwing a wrench at Gisu who catches it mid sick skate flip because Otto just expects her to help with said project in exchange to credits + not having to do homework for a week. They barely talk outside of this bc the agreement is not spoken and just based on vibes and knowing winks.

After the games I think Lizzie swings back to Compton's and he gives her a stern look and a raised eyebrow like you didn't do my assignment? and Lizzies like dude I tried man. and she thinks shes gonna get a lecture but instead Compton's like I'm sorry about that, let's start over, and then they play chess and he wins 3 times in a row. He learns Lizzie likes "weird" and "ugly" animals like bugs and rats and he makes some new assignment about just observing them in the wild, maybe try to talk to them if she can! and reporting back to him. Lizzie still thinks thisis a bit lame but at least she doesnt have to set up a Goat Trap so its an improvement

Sam learns what Coach did at camp and she doesn't do anything actively malicious but she does give him horrible stink eye for like a week. afterwards they go back to getting along surprisingly well aside from all the times Sam says some shit that sounds oddly like a threat but it goes over Oleander's head like half the time.

If Adam and Truman are a good professional vibe, Norma and Hollis are a bit of a stinky professional vibe. Hollis obviously thinks shes a capable young girl, she did let her teach class while she was off meditating about bills. But Norma wants so much more than that and tries so so so hard to impress her even though she ALSO thinks her homework assignment is boring and childish. She goes to Hollis' office like I want a different assignment, with the unspoken want "do not treat her like a child". and Hollis is like oh ok do you want to learn some advanced techniques that come from reading this big dry book of theory as big as your head. and Norma is like well, no. and Hollis is like ok then do your assignment very neutrally and Norma leaves thinking SHE HATES ME!!! bc I think Norma probably has. bad responses to rejection.

Hopefully Norma improves over time though bc I think! I think Hollis could possibly see a lot of potential in her!! She might even see a girl who's impatient, prone to rash decisions, and wants to prove herself so badly, and see herself in her. which is something that's only just occured to me but i enjoy the idea a lot so thats where I'll end this.

[kaviary-blog]

Brutal Honesty

A/N: Takes place after the events of Horrors of the Scriptorium. I wanted to show more of their dynamic and showcase that they are truly Not Friends, and that Sebastian doesn't like her. Sebastian, Ominis, Katherine (F!MC) Warnings: Sebastian is an asshole, language, bullying, depression, Ominis is an enabler, more angst but nobody is surprised Word Count: 2.5K

--- --- ---

There they were, arguing. As per usual. 

Katherine and Sebastian stood in the Undercroft, the latter yelling at the prior. 

“Because you got in the way!” His sharp tone echoed off the stone walls of the hidden room. 

“Maybe if you actually communicated what you were doing, we wouldn’t run into as many issues.” Katherine tried to keep her head level, refusing to be dragged down to his level.

“Perhaps if you didn’t take up too much damn space”

She stopped at that, the venom in his voice dripping into her soul. He had leaned down to her level, an inch from her face as he spat out his disdain for the Ravenclaw.

Holding firm, she didn’t allow her lip to tremble or her eyes to cloud. Katherine held his dark gaze with a flat one of her own, which only seemed to fuel his anger.

“God, you’re like a fucking doll!” His knuckles were white with the effort of holding back shoving her into the wall, anything to just get some kind of rise out of her. Give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. He suppressed a smile at the thought of the sound her head would make as it slammed into the stone.

She didn’t miss the way he opened and closed his fists or the dangerous look in his eyes; and that made her skin crawl and throat tighten. The brunette couldn’t recall what he had been yelling at her for this time, her focus was centered on his body language; Ready to bolt if he lunged at her.

It had been like any other run of the mill outing he dragged her along for, both fully aware of the fact that Sebastain was simply using Katherine for her ability to see and sense ancient magic. It was a vain hope and mission to save Anne. She wanted to help the poor girl, she really did, but Sebastian’s thinly veiled threats made it hard for her to have any kind of pity outside of who her brother was. 

Another goblin camp blown to pieces, the occasional ‘friendly’ fire shot at her. Which, of course, he would say was an accident and she just happened to be in the line of fire. She knew all too well that he wasn’t above causing her harm, she had one too many scars to forget. Not to mention the nightmare that happened inside the scriptorium. Which meant that she spent an equal amount of time watching her back for oncoming attacks from foes and the one who was supposed to be on her side; potentially more so for her ‘partner’. 

Anytime she heard his specific pattern of footsteps she felt herself stiffen up, senses prepped and ready for a fight. She tried not to look him in the eyes, except for when he got in her face. She refused to show weakness, refused to show him the fear that coursed through her body at the mere mention of him.

But there she was, face to face with him as he spat her loyalty back in her face. Telling her that she “took up too much space” and that she was worthless to his endeavor, worthless to everyone and everything. 

She knew he held no kind regard for her, but to have him throw it directly in her face with words rather than unforgivables was a completely different ordeal. There was no roundabout way he could try to play it off as a necessity, no hidden agenda, nothing outside of the pure disdain he held for the girl he manipulated and forced into being his “friend”. 

She looked into his hate-filled eyes. Her voice came out soft spoken and matter-of-factly, “You’re mean.”

He blinked. Not the reaction he expected or hoped for.

Sebastian expected tears, yelling, expletives. Not the words of children.

She stared at him as his mind reeled, once he came back around he was fuming. Him? Mean? He was doing absolutely everything in his power to save his sister. He was a lot of things, but Sebastian Sallow was not mean. 

“Have you taken a look at yourself!?” Somewhere in his disbelief he had taken a few steps back from Katherine. “You! The one who is never not in the way! The one who has never once done something right! You’re the reason we were stuck in that godforsaken crypt for two days! I’m the one that got us out, and we would’ve gotten out a lot quicker had you not insisted that there was another way. I am the reason we’re alive. Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty.”

The composure she worked so hard to maintain cracked. She swallowed, her lip trembled, and most damned, she looked away. 

He smirked and straightened up to his full height, further proving her small and insignificant. He won.

She didn’t have to see the look in his eyes to know that he knew it too. So instead, she just shoved past him and out the gate of the Undercroft. Walking out into the hall she bumped into someone, she made out the red glow through her tear-streaked vision. A quick apology and she disappeared into the rest of the castle, not wanting to get another lecture or scolding from the Prince of Slytherin himself.

Back in the Ravenclaw dorm rooms, Katherine sat alone on the side of her bed. Sebastian’s words echoing in her head. Staring down at her hands, her nails had finally grown back and there was still subtle scarring all over her fingers. She wore gloves to hide them, but she knew that they were there. Just as she knew all of her flaws and hidden scars. And that bastard Slytherin put them on blast. 

Her breathing heaved and sped up, even in the warmth of her room the chill of his presence haunted her. The tears barreled their way out of her eyes, flooding down her neck. Gasping for air, grasping any semblance of comfort. Her skin was too tight, ”too much space”, she pulled at her hair trying to release the tension in her mind. 

She looked up across the room where the mirror stood. She stared back at herself, but it was a shell of the girl she was, the girl she wanted to be. Hair falling loose from a bun long forgotten, eyes red and puffed, red salt stains down her face and neck, her shirt was soaked with her own tears. Splotchy and unwanted. Katherine looked at herself and choked. The broken girl reflected in the mirror was a stranger to her.

A few weeks had passed, Katherine doing anything to make herself as small as possible. She kept to herself, hiding in a corner of the library where nobody ever looked. Sitting at the edge of the Ravenclaw table on the rare occasion she attended meal calls. She spoke less and didn’t answer questions in class. When not in class, the library, or her bedroom, she hid away in the Room of Requirement. She had taken care to remove all the mirrors from within its walls and removed most of the furnishings. Standing in the middle of the empty, expansive room made her feel small. How people wished she would be. She spent her time in the various vivariums, sitting in the comforting silence of the beasts she kept safe there. A book in one hand, the other threading through the fur of a mooncalf.

Her plan seemed to be working, nobody seemed to notice or care that she had retracted herself from their lives. Though it came as no surprise to her, being unwanted was a language she was fluent in; it was the only one she knew.

She avoided Sebastian and Ominis in the halls, she had long since figured out their usual habits and knew how to fly under their radar, so as to not tempt their wrath.

It wasn’t until reviewing Boggarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts that the water once again began to boil over. Professor Hecat had instructed Katherine to go first, and students began whispering upon the cupboard door opening.

Sebastian Sallow.

Tall and glowering, eyes glowing with intention, wand gripped in white knuckles. He stalked towards her, red sparks at the tip of his wand. She had learned long ago to swallow her fear in the face of him. But at this moment, there were two of him in the room; both making their way towards her. 

She steeled herself for whatever the real Sebastian was preparing for her as she cast Riddikulus on Boggart-Sebastian. Only for it not to change. It simply stopped. Brown eyes met blue as they stared at each other.

Seconds felt like lifetimes before Hecat stepped between them, interrupting and instructing the lesson to continue. Katherine made her way to the corner of the classroom, acutely aware of the eyes on her. Especially a certain Slytherin’s dark glare.

As soon as class ended, she tried to escape but was stopped by a pale hand. Boney fingers wrapped around her wrist and began to pull her away, a whispered instruction to not cause a scene. 

Ominis dragged her down the stairs and towards the Undercroft, and once realizing their destination she began to resist.

“Katherine. Don’t make a scene.” His voice was cold as ever, speaking orders as only the Prince of Slytherin could.

Though she didn’t listen. She tried to yank her arm from his grasp, but his fingers only tightened.

He sighed, “Merlin, why must you make everything so difficult.” He didn’t pose it as a question, but as an objective fact. His words, spoken in his posh, stone-cold tone, discouraged her. There was no winning this fight. A realization that was only exemplified as she heard the familiar rhythm of Sebastian’s footsteps behind her. 

“Walk.” A firm hand pushed her shoulder, causing her to stumble forward a pace, falling back into step behind the blond that retained his vice grip on her wrist. 

With a final shove from the brunet, Katherine was in the secluded “sanctuary” of the Undercroft. “What the hell?” She barked back at the two boys that had forced her into their precious hideout.

“What the hell, me? What the hell, you?!” Sebastian’s voice was angry as always, “That was some clever trick you pulled back there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boggart! Turning it into me? Very funny.”

“You think I did that on purpose? One can’t exactly control what it turns into, you clod!” How dense was this kid? Merlin.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure in that stuck-up little Ravenclaw head of yours you could probably figure it out.” He had taken steps towards her, backing her up further into the room.

“Or maybe you’re just that much of a dick” Her own voice was growing venomous as she tried to stand up against him. “Did you ever think of that?”

His glare deepened, his eyes growing violent. He went to take a step forward but was stopped by Ominis’ sudden grasp of his sleeve. He whipped his head back, gaze directed back to his friend’s expression of silent warning. 

She should make a run for it. She knew that she should. But… would she make it? Would they stop her? Hex her? Curse her? Her fear held her in place, the boys exchanged hushed, angry whispers that Katherine couldn’t understand. Tentative test steps away returned the attention to her. Ominis’ dead stare locked in her direction and Sebastian turned back around, fixing her with a cold stare that froze her to the floor. And just like that, whatever hushed argument the boys were having was forgotten and the small Ravenclaw was the center of attention.

“Okay, fine. Maybe you can’t control it.” His voice was flat and cold, “The ‘Big Bad Sebastian Sallow’” He took a step forward with a taunting laugh. “That’s really your biggest fear? Not Ranrok,” another step, “Not Rookwood”, even closer, “Me”. He towered over her, smirking.

Katherine swallowed. She tried to take a step back, but he grabbed her arm, holding her hostage in his stare. 

“All knowing, stuck up little Katherine Ambrose is afraid of me.” He laughed, a wicked taunting laugh. And she wanted to cry. The one thing that scared her more than him, was him finding out that he was what scared her; and what he could do with that information.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Before meeting Sebastian and becoming entrapped in his schemes and manipulation she had been so excited and full of life. And now… now she couldn’t wait to disappear. She was small and insignificant, and Sebastian made sure of it.

“... why are you so mean?” It took all of her to stop her voice from shaking.

Sebastian scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Again, with this ‘mean’ thing” He let go of his grasp on her arm, only to roughly grab her chin. “Am I really so scary?” He wasn’t asking and he wasn’t serious. He was mocking her. Smug, sweet enjoyment of her fear.

“Sebastian,” Ominis’ tired voice cut through the stiff air of the Undercroft. A sharp reminder to both that he was still present. “This truly isn’t necessary. I don’t know what you are hoping to accomplish here.”

Sebastian chuffed and growled, ignoring his friend. “I want to know why. You think I’m some terrible monster but you’re not all that great either.”

She held his gaze, lip trembling and brows stitched together. 

“You are an insufferable goody two shoes that nobody likes. You are in the way, desperate, and pathetic. And I am the only person that is willing to tell you. And I am the bad guy because I’m honest.”

“You are not honest. You are mean.” Her voice shook and she tried not to cry.

He released her chin and took a step back, looking down at her with arms crossed. 

“I might be a jerk, but I at least have redeemable qualities. I can’t think of any for you. What even is there to like about you?”

“That I am nothing like you.” 

With a painful crunch and a flurry of expletives, Katherine realized that Sebastian had punched the pillar she was standing beside. Ominis perked up from his place in the corner at the sound and swiftly started approaching. Katherine took this moment to duck out from under his arm, careful of the blood that was smeared on the stone and was dripping from his hand. 

Sebastian continued to curse as he turned on Katherine, holding his obviously broken hand with his other. But Ominis stopped him, scolding him about his temper and pulling out a handkerchief to wrap the hand.

But Katherine didn’t care, she held no pity for the Slytherin. She darted towards the exit of the Undercroft, not listening to the frustrated tones of the boys in her wake.

She charged ahead, up and out. Towards the Ravenclaw tower. She was desperate to cleanse herself, scrub her skin raw of where they had dared to lay their hands on her. And she silently thanked Merlin that he had punched the pillar and not her.

[salarta]

Polaris, an Unsung Hero

Anyone who hasn't seen some of my more recent posts, to recap, I think Polaris' chances of good near future treatment out of Marvel are extremely slim verging on nil.

It was already bad enough that Marvel is going all in on unthinking 90s nostalgia, which was terrible for Lorna in how it restricted her to "Havok's supporting character girlfriend." Even worse, the X-Men comics have an element of 80s nostalgia as well, so current X-Factor added the "abducted damsel in distress for Havok to have manpain about it" angle too. Pair that with too many X-Men fans I've run into making excuses for poor treatment (one even explicitly saying Lorna "deserves" terrible characterization) but then getting upset when their own faves like Pyro get similar poor treatment, and it's worse. But the United States 2024 election results were the last straw for me. While I have serious doubts that fuckery isn't afoot, the Dems aren't even trying to stop fascism in any way, and in fact are trying to throw trans people under the bus as an excuse.

So what we're left with is the suggestion that a majority of voting Americans want racist, sexist, trans hating pedophiles running the country as long as they "get mine," an attitude echoed in X-Men fandom ("Polaris getting fucked over is fine as long as my fave is treated well"), and the people with the greatest ability to resist these problems instead eagerly jumping headlong into exacerbating them.

It's fucked. And it's left me feeling like Polaris doesn't have a shot at good work in the short term, cause how do you build awareness of what she deserves and get people to understand and respect it in this atmosphere?

At this point, you're wondering why I said all of the above when it seems far off from the title of my post. It's connected because it's had me thinking differently over the past few weeks.

I don't think I can "fight" for the character, because I don't see a path forward to do it. What I can do, though, is simply share my feelings and what I see.

And folks. I was reminded of something important last night.

Progress in this world isn't something that gets rewarded for the people and forms that initiate it. It gets punished. Daring to break the mold, daring to move the needle forward, daring to pave the way for others, that gets punished sharply.

That's what happened to Polaris.

I don't know how many people know this, but Marvel comics was rife with sexism, and still is but to a lesser degree. Sue Storm started out as only able to turn invisible, and treated very often in the sexist supporting character vein. Some depictions of the Fantastic Four even had Reed threatening to smack her around.

In the X-Men books, at the time Lorna was introduced, Jean Grey was placed in the common mold of female characters at the time. More regressive, more supporting character in nature. Both Jean and Wanda were often set out as the "token girl" for the respective men around them. It wasn't exactly a progressive spot to be in even as just the idea of a woman on a team at all could arguably have been progress (when you compare to how Wonder Woman was first added to the Justice Society as their... secretary).

Enter Polaris. Although her introductory issue had a tinge of the "for a dude" in how Iceman got to save her at one point, the majority of her first appearance - and of some (not all) depictions pre-Claremont - made her very progressive in her time.

When her powers and relation to Magneto were learned, the X-Men feared her. Before learning those things, they saw her as just another woman in need of help. But after, they saw her as a full-fledged threat who could really tear them apart if she so chose. By herself. Not even adding in the potential mutant army at her beck and call there. But then, she decided to resist the "evil blood" of her father (note: this was before Magneto was established as Jewish, when Magneto was a mustache-twirling white man villain and nothing more) and follow her own path.

We had two progressive acts in her first issue. She was established as a truly dangerous woman, and she decided to be her own woman rather than simply do something because that's what her father would want from her. Then some depictions between this and Claremont let her speak more feminism by chastising Havok and Iceman for fighting over her instead of caring about the mission at hand, or by Lorna saying she's "nobody's girl" when Jean started suggesting it.

This progress was punished.

Gradually, Lorna was reframed as "Havok's girl." As his almost property. As a character who isn't allowed to have her own thoughts and feelings, only caring about what Havok wants and what matters to him. Claremont exacerbated this with his tenure by not only reinforcing the idea, but turning Lorna into a punching bag for villains and even other X-Men like Storm. Got bad enough that Claremont even had Zaladane steal Lorna's powers and then add extremely generic powers (super strength, invulnerability) alongside basically a "hate sink" power where the concept was for literally everyone she ever meets to feel their most negative emotions and want to kill her (even if they kill themselves in the process) just cause she's there.

That's where Lorna's stuck. Any time she makes any tiny modicum of progress, she gets forced back into the role of damsel and punching bag, if not explicitly like Claremont then implicitly with jokes and insults aimed at her (see also: 2020s X-Factor having Lorna say she's a "big gun" and then immediately having possessed Siryn mind control her and outright call her stupid for being written as stupid).

Every time I think of all of this, it makes me sad and angry. Polaris deserves a fuckload better. Even if you pretend she wasn't made until Claremont or until the 90s, like so many at Marvel like to do, she still deserves better. She's been wronged and savaged and had so much of what she offers torn apart and handed off to other characters.

Did you know they recently "created" a new character to "follow in Magneto's footsteps" named Magnetrix? Using Lorna's own first codename from before she was given the Polaris one, to promote a brand new character meant to steal yet another thing from her, the notion of her as heir to Magneto's legacy. While she's stuck as a supporting character girlfriend on X-Factor that gets abducted for Havok's sake.

Yet in my recent thoughts, after all the apologism from X-Men fans, after the US 2024 election, I find myself looking at something else here instead of the horrific injustice that looks like it'll never get fixed in my lifetime (maybe not even in the lifetime of anyone alive today).

Even though Claremont set it, ironically, Polaris is a very appropriate code name for her. Because it represents the north star, a guiding light. It steers people in the right direction within the darkness.

If someone uses that star to get where they're going, the star is rarely given accolades when they show up as needed. People don't go "Let's hear it for the guiding star! Yeah!" They just revel in where they are.

That's Polaris and her influence in a nutshell.

Yes, the progress seen in Sue Storm, Jean Grey, Scarlet Witch, Storm, the bulk of it comes from good work focused on them. Just like the bulk of a ship getting to its proper destination comes from the good work of those people on that ship who moved it along. But that ship needed a guiding light for those efforts to matter. That ship needed someone or something to light the way.

Polaris lit the way for all of those female characters and more.

I know most fans of those characters will balk at the suggestion. They'll say it was all self-powered, that Lorna did nothing for any of them. Some of those fans will even say Lorna made it harder for their faves. And I can understand why they would be so defensive of their faves in that way, I really do.

But the truth is, you need someone else to go first. You need someone else to stand out, take the beatings, set the precedent.

None of these characters, including Polaris, would have gotten anywhere if not for Wonder Woman and any characters who inspired that character. Wonder Woman set a precedent herself by being a female superhero who actually got shit done, and being extremely progressive in her time (even despite the sexism of things like being assigned secretary of the Justice Society). Just being a female superhero was blazing a trail.

Polaris blazed a trail herself by introducing most feminist ideals with her coming onto the scene. She created an opening for Jean and Storm and all of them to be able to get more progressive characterization. Lorna took the beating so they could move forward.

That's what happened. That's what's still happening. To this day. She built up the value of Magneto having an heir with his same power set, and now not once but twice, Marvel's introduced two female characters meant to take Lorna's place in that role so they could send her back to sexist treatment land. The upcoming "Magnetrix" is just the newest. There was also a recent story set in the past with a different character whose name I can't remember doing the same thing, seemingly carrying Magneto's legacy.

When Claremont decided to make Lorna into a hate sink for her power set, as shitty as it was for him to do, the truth is he was just making the implicit into something more explicit.

No matter what good Lorna does, no matter what trails she blazes, she's never rewarded for it. All she ever gets is punished and put down. All she ever gets is people saying she deserves to be treated shitty. Or people saying she doesn't deserve to be Magneto's daughter. Or people insisting she can't be anything more than Havok's girlfriend on X-Factor, and that X-Factor is all she's good for.

But despite all of that?

She's in the end doing good for everyone. Even though Marvel and too many X-Men fans at large will never, ever respect her for it.

They'll happily take advantage of the openings she creates. They'll love how she makes it easier to make their own faves do the things she already did, but that they can take credit for it with a different (sometimes new) character. They'll never give her her due. They'll just take take take.

And I guess... that's her real legacy. And why she's an unsung hero.

She gets nothing for the beatdowns in and out of the fiction. She gets nothing from the repeated character assassinations, the taking away of everything she is to hand off to other, "more deserving" characters. Any time she makes progress, it's instantly lifted for others to reap the benefits.

She's never going to be who and what she should be, and should have been for decades.

So maybe the best approach is really just to bask in the afterglow of what she accomplishes in secret.

Without her, what progress we do have wouldn't exist. Jean Grey and Storm would not have solo books today. Or at least, it would've been a much harder uphill climb for them to get those solo books. So many paths and ideas within X-Men and wider Marvel comics that get celebrated for being progressive, simply would not be if she hadn't taken the bullets for daring to stand out.

This doesn't mean I'll start reading Jean Grey or Storm comics. I'm not really interested in either of them, and truthfully, the way my brain works, reading those comics would actually just leave me more upset that Polaris will never get anything even remotely close to the same thing. I don't like to engage in stuff that just upsets me in a bad way like that.

But from afar, I can still think of how much my favorite character has done in secret, with no accolades and respect to show for it.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1258: Fight in the Name of Love (100 Girlfriends)

2:27 p.m. at Ohananomitsu High Scool's Halls.......

Rentatou gets shoved towards the front of the wall hard enough to make him fall down on one knee, covered with a few bruises on his face and a dirtied up his school uniform. He got himself involved in a fight against three jocks who had absolute gull to insult one out of six of his loving girlfriends behind his back during the previous class period. While he may seemed to be in an overwhelming disadvantage in face value, he refuse to give up. Not until he makes them give his girlfriends' respect they all deserved!

Jock #1: (Let's Out a Smug Sounding Chuckle While Cracking his Knuckles) I gotta say, Aijo, you held your own against us pretty well. As a token of your bravery, we'll give one chance to apologize and go on your merry way, like nothing happen.

Jock #2: (Starts Crackling) Yeah! And the apology better be sincere while you're at it!

Jock #3: (Pounds his Fist Towards the Palm of his Hand) 'Less you want another round of ass whooping comin' your way.

Rentarou: ('Tch') Please. Spare me the empty threats....

Jock #3: (Raises an Eyebrow) Eh?

Jock #1: (Frowns in Disapproval) What was that, you punk?

Rentarou: You heard me loud and clear, so I won't bother repeating myself twice. (Slowly Gets Himself Back Up on his Feet While Groaning a Bit in Pain) What...I will say is that you three are the only ones who owe a certain someone an apology. (Looks Up to his Opponent With Sheer Determined and Anger in his Eyes) And I refuse to leave here without pummeling you three to the ground and dragging you back to the classroom myself and giving it to her!

Jock #2: (Glares and Growls at Rentarou) Who the hell you think you are bossin' us around like that, huh!?

Jock #3 Yeah, it ain't our faults that Karane chick you be hangin' out with is a crazy bitch-

Rentarou: (Comically Glares at the Jocks) YOU TAKE THAT BACK! Karane's not crazy, nor is she any kind of bitch! She's one the most loving, caring, and beautiful girl I have the pleasure of meeting and I'll be damned if I let a couple of degrading punks like you guys insult her any longer!!

Jock #1: (Scoffs While Grinning Connivingly) Fine. Keep fighting for her as much as ypu want. (Starts Cracking his Knuckles Again Along with the Fellas) Better not cry like a baby after we mop the floors with you, dumbass.

Rentarou: (Wipe a Bit of Blood From Off the Side of his Lip) Go ahead and try to do your worse. (Takes Off his Uniform Jacket and Throws it on the Ground on his Right Before Cracking Both his Knuckles Himself) I ain't giving up even if it's the last thing I have to-

????????: HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!

A few number of other students who were all watching the whole thing, begins to gasps as they, Rentarou, and the three jocks turns to see the pigtailed demon herself, Karane Inda, slowly and angrily approaches her way to the scene with most people quickly moves themselves to the side and out of the way from potential havoc that is destined to happen at any moment now.

Karane: What. The hell. Is going on over here?....

Rentarou: (Quickly and Shakingly Tries to Calm Down his Girlfriend) N-Now, Karane, I know this all looks concerning right now, bu-

Karane: (Turns to Her Boyfriend While Pointing Her Finger onto a Nearby Wall) Go over there and wait until I'm done.

Rentarou: But-

Karane: NOW!

Rentarou: (Yelps in Fear) Yes, ma'am! (Does as He's Told and Stand by the Nearest, Out of Harns Way)

Jock #2: ('Growls') Beat it, tootz! (Angrily Approaches his Way to Karane) Can't ya see we're busy he-

Without any warning, Karane instantly and easily knocks the jock out of the way towards the other side of the hall, at ease with one single back-hand punch across the face, putting him out cold, much to everyone's shock with a hint grimace and fear.

Jock #1: (Already Scared Shitless) U-U-Uhhh- (Turns to his Only Fellow Jock Friend Left) You! Go handle this.

Jock #3: (Eyes Widened in Disbelief) What!? Why me!?

Jock #1: (Panickly Glares at Jock #3) Cuz I'm the boss of this trio and I said so- (Pushes Jock #3 Fowards Towards Karane) Now, MOVE IT!!

Jock #3: (Groans in Annoyance While Walking) I'm going, I'm going. (Tales a Deep Breath) It's go big or go home....(Balls his Fist Up, Winds it Up From the Back.....) And I ain't going home just yet!

Jock #3 delivers a powerful looking power towards Karane face.......Only for her to catch it with her hand effortlessly, with a fierce grip to boost.

Jock #3: Uhhhhhhhhh......Apologies...(Smiles Very Awkwardly) For my rudenes-

'CRACK'

Jock #3 suddenly screams out in pain as Karane squeezes his fist hard enough to making go down on both his knees one by one before letting go, sneak up behind his back, grab a hold of his body, picks him up, and German Suplexed him onto the hard, concrete ground, knocking him out as well.

Jock #1: (Completely Dumbfounded by Everything That Just Happened) Holy ahit......This bitch really is insane!......

The Head Jock's eyes begins to widened up in pure fear as he sees Karane leaning her back straight up before slowly.....and menacingly approaching to him next....

Jock #1: (Slowly Steps Himself Back) H-H-Hang on now! W-W-We don't mean to cause any disturbance or anything. (Chuckles Awkwardly) W-We were only teaching that worthless punk Aij-

Karane: ('Growls Menacingly')

Jock #1: (Immediately Gets Startled by Karane's Growling) D-D-Did I say punk? What I mean to say was cool....smart...and....HAVE MERCYYYYYY!!!

Before the Jock could even try to make his (not so) daring escape, Karane lauches herself onto him and then proceeds to beat the ever-living daylights out of him.

While all of these sequences of events starts to make the Ultimate Tsunadre more Intimidating towards most of her classmates, it actually made Rentarou fall for twice as much more than he already has since the day they first met.

Rentarou: (Starts Blushing While Watching the One-Sided Beatdown Unfolds) Yep. I am definitely gonna marry her and the resr of girls one of these days.

?????????: RENTAROOOOU!!!~

Rentarou: Huh- AHH! (Immediately Gets Hug Tackled By Hakari and Four Other of His Concerned Girlfriends)

'THUD'

Hakari: (Hugs Rentarou Tightly and Very Lovingly While Twisting him Around) Oh our poor, sweet darling boy, are you okay!?~

Nano: (Examines Through Rentarou's Body) Are any of your bruises stinging you in anyway?

Kusuri: (Raises Up her Beaker) Kusuri will whip up a cure for those poopy injuries of yours as soon as we head back to my lab class, yep-yep!!

Shizuka: (Worryingly Stares at Rentarou While Holding onto her Phone) {I would be more than willing to read you all one of my favorite books if you like}

Rentarou: (Chuckles Lightly) It's a date. But really, you guys, I'll be fine, so long as I don't strang too much on myself.

Hakari: How did this all happened? (Looks Over to Two Other Jocks, Groaning in Utter Pain, With a Glare on her Face) Were those hooligans over there bullying you the whole time?

Nano: (Gives Rentarou a Slightly Darkened Look) Shall we handle them efficiently?

Kusuri: (Starts Punching the Air a Bit) Kusuri wants to hit 'em the one-two-three-four combo!

Shizuka: (Starts Pounding her Fist onto the Palm of her Hand With a Cute, Pouty Look)

Rentarou: (Smiles Sheepishly) I-I wouldn't waste my time on those three if I were you girls! (Turns Over to Karane Beatong the Jocks' Ringleader in the Distance) Especially now that Karane's dealing with them.

Hakari: She blitz out of the classroom the very moment we found out about the fight....(Turns Back to Rentarou With Concern in his Eyes) Are you sure those boys weren't picking on you the whole time?

Rentarou: No, not.....necessary. In fact, if I'm being honest, I uh....(Starts Twiddling his Fingers Together a Bit) May have challenged all of them to....fight me in the first place? (Grins Awkwardly)

The girlfriends stares at Rentarou in silence.

Nano: You....(Raises an Eyebrow) fought them by your own request?

Rentarou: Pretty much, yeah. I think it might be the very first fist fight I've ever been apart of now that I think about-

Hakari: Rentarou Hanazono Aijou!!

Rentarou: (Immediately Puts Himself in a Prominent Position in Front if a Not so Happy Hakari) Yes, ma'am!- Wait, I don't have a middle nam-

Hakari: Nevermind that now!! What in the world of love and peace possesses you to get yourself involved in these childish fights!? Do you really see yourself as a weakling? Because let me tell you right now, that's a load of-

Rentarou: (Quickly Homds Onto Hajari's Shoulders) Hakari! I didn't do this to prove my self-worth to anyone. I promise you.

Hakari: (Softens her Glare with a Worried Look) Then tell us. Why?

Rentarou: It's because those three were talking about Karane behind her back throughout class. (Slowly Starts to Frustrated a Bit) Calling her crazy....and a bitch.....It ticked me off to no end, so I decided to fight them, hoping i could make them apologize to for what they said.

Hakari: Darling.....

Rentarou: (Sighs While Frowning Again) I know it's dumb and all, but each and everyone of you girls are amazing to me in your, unique way and I refuse to let anyone say otherwise, let alone insult you for it!

The four girls starts gritting their teeth and blushing to another one of their boyfriend's sweet gestures.

Nano: (Gently Places her Hand Onto Rentarou's Shoulder) Your reasoning and motives are truly noble indeed. However, I don't believe this is something you should continue to fret over going forward

Hakari: Nano's right. We all have our fair share of people talking about us behind our backs, on a few ocassions as well.

Rentarou: Really?

Hakari: (Happily Nodded) Mhmm. (Giggles a Bit) I'm honestly starting to lose count on how many times I've been called "Tits For Brains" thus far.

Rentarou's eyes starts to widen.

Nano: Or how many times I've been called "A Emotionless Tool".

Kusuri: (Happily Raises her Hand Up) Kusuri has been known as the "Weirdo Scientist" for quite some now, Yep-Yep!~

Shizuka: {And I have been appointed as the "Muted Freak" among peers-}

Rentarou: (Immediately Got Up From the Ground and Looking Around the Room With a Comically Ticked Off Look on his Face) WHO CALLED YOU ALL THAT!?

The scream and glare alone were more than enough you make some of the students who were watching Rentarou and co, terrified of him.

Rentarou: TELL ME THE NAMES AND HAVE THEM COME FORWARD! I'LL RIP EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM TO SHREADS IF THEY EVEN TRY TO LOOK AT ANY OF YOU WRONG-

Hakari: (Begins to Pout Again While Her and the Rest of the Ladies Frantically Tries to Calm Their Darling Boy Down) Darling, you will cease your outburst and threats at once! Now, sit!!

Rentarou: (Does as He's and Sits Himself Back Down While Lowering his Head a Bit) Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry......

Kusuri: (Hugs Rentarou and Kisses Him) It's okay~

Nano: (Gently Rubs on the Top of Rentarou's Head) Good boy.

Shizuka gently pats on Rentarou's back with a soft, reassuring smile on her face.

Hakari: ('Sigh') I swear. Both you and Karane need to work on controlling your temper going forward....But like I said beforehand reigns true: people would talk about us behind our backs and it hurt and even frustrates us at times. But we don't let it bother us for so long because at the end of the day, they're only strangers that doesn't truly know us any better than we know each other.

Nano: She's right. It would more efficient for all of us to care more about ourselves and the love ones around us a lot more than the latter.

Kusuri: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Kusuri doubles that motion!~

Shizuka: (Simply Nodded in Agreement) {I as well.} (Gently Grabs Hold of Rentarou's Hand While Still Typing by Using her Other Hand With the Sweetest Smile She Could Muster) {Your happiness and well-beong will forever be one of our highest priorities, Rentarou Aijou~} (Kiss the Top of Rentarou's Hand)

Rentarou Family: (Blushing So Hard by Shizuka's Gesture) (SO PRECIOUS!!!!!~)

Rentarou: (Frowns a Bit Before Sighing) I'm sorry I made you all worry like that. I'm not sure i could ever not let the constant gossip bother me completely, but.... (Puts on a Sincere, Reassuring Smile on his Face) I'll do my very best not to get myself in this kind of situation ever again, for you girls.

Hakari: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness) That's all we needed to hear, our love~

Kusuri: Group Hugs!~

Rentarou Family begins to gather around and engulf into one big, loving hug....Which only lasted about a few seconds before the jock leader was sent flying towards his two comrades, causing the harem group to now yelp and hug each other in fear.

Jock #1: (Groans in Utter Pain Before his Eyes Widened Up Again in Terror at the Slight of Karane Slowly Approaching Back to Him) N-No.....Stop. Please! I beg of you. W-We won't cause you guys any trouble ever again! We swear!

The two other jocks, finally awaken from their pulverized slumber, begins to frantically nodding to dear life as Karane slowly leans closer to their leader's face

Karane: If I ever catch messing with my man- (Points at Rentarou and the Rest of His and Her Family) -and our girls again, you're dead. Now, Beat it!

Jock #1: (Quickly Got Up From the Floor as Him and Boys Starts Running Away Like Little Girls) Y-Yes, Ma'am!!!

Jock #2: I DON'T WANNA BE BAD ANYMOOOOORE!!!!

Karane: (Simply Nodded in Dominance and Satisfactory) ('Hmph') (Notices the Other Students Are Still Starong at her and her Family) What the hell are you all looking at!? SCRAM!

The remaining students quickly return back to their next class and out of Karane and her lovers' presence right on cue.

Karane: (Slowly Turns her Attention Back at Rentarou) And as for YOU!

Rentarou: (Holds his Hands Up in Defense) Karane, wait, I can expla- YAAAAH! (Immediately Gets Picked Up by the Collar by his Tsundare Girlfriend)

Karane: (Angrily Shakes Rentarou Back and Forth in Front of Her) YOU CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED OVER HERE!? OUT OF ALL US IN THESE HALLS, I WOULD NEVER YOU TO BE INVOLVED IN THIS TYPE OF BULLCRAP! WHY IN THE HELL DID YOU BOTHER FIGHTING THOSE THREE BOZOS IN THE FIRST PLACE, HUUUUUUUH!?

Rentarou: They. Were. Talking. About. You. Behind your. Back! So I wanted. To. Teach them. A lesson. They would. Never. FORGETHEEET!!

Karane's eyes starts to widen as she finally puts Rentarou back down on his feet.

Rentarou: (Shivers and Shakes his Head a Bit While Regaining his Balance) That felt a lot more intense than an actual roller coaster ride....(Suddenly Felt Karane Softly Hugging Him) Hm?

Karane: (Face Already Planted on Rentarou's Chest) Dummy. ('Sniff') You scared me.

Rentarou: (Puts on a Guilty Frown as He Gently Rubs Karane's Back) I know, I'm so sorry....You and the girls mean a lot more to me than even I realize myself. I just didn't want anyone outside of that to disrespect and insult in any way.

Karane: ('Sniff') Well, you should've ignored them! I've been called a "Bitch" a lot more timss than I could care to count and remember. ('Sniff') But it really doesn't bother me now that you guys are in my life. (Looks Up to Rentarou With a Teary Look in her Eyes) So, don't you EVER get yourself in trouble like that again, you hear me!? ('Sniff') Please?

Rentarou: (Immediately Hugs Karane Lovingly) Of course. I promise to never scare you like that ever again, Karane. I love you~

Karane: I love you too~ (Gives Rentarou a Peck on the Lips) You're grounded by the way.

Rentarou: Yea- Wait. (Eyes Widened in Disbelief) What!?

Karane: (Comically Glares and Pointsvat her Boyfriend) You heard me! Y-O-U. Grounded! You're not allowed to go to the rooftop today! Instead, we'll be heading straight back to Pinky's place and spend the rest of the day cuddling. No objections!!

Hakari: (Walks Over to Karane and Rentarou with Soft Smile on her Face) You know what? That's not a bad punishment at all, Karane.

Kusuri: (Happily Raises Her Hand Up in Rejoice) Yayyyy!~ Another Cuddle Party!~

Nano: (Closes her Eyes in Satisfactory) An efficient punishments indeed.

Shizuka: (Happily Nodded in Agreement)

Rentarou: (Smiles Dreamingly) (This punishment feels more like blissful paradise to me~)

??????????: RENTAROU!!~

Rentarou Family turns to see Hahari Hanazono running (or rather waddling) her way to Rentarou.

Hahari: There you are!~ (Pulls Rentarou into a Very Loving, Slightly Twisty Hug) My poor, sweet precious, baby boi, I saw everything that went down on the cameras!~ Are you okay?

Rentarou: (Smiles Sheepishly at his Oldest Girlfriend) No need worry, Hahari-San. I'll be fine.

Karane: (Starts Pouting a Bit While her Arms Are Crossed) Mr. Dumb-Dumb here thought it would a swell idea to challenge those three posers to a 3 v. 1 fist fight.

Hahari: (Let's Out a Loud Gasps Before Giving Rentarou a Motherly Glare) Rentarou Hanazono Aijou! Is that true?

Rentarou: It is- ('Sigh') Okay, seriously, I don't recall ever having a middle name in all my life-

Hahari: Nevermind that! What you did was very reckless and I'm afraid I have to punish you.

Nano: We already decided on taking him back to your mansion and cuddle with him as punishment.

Hahari: (Smiles Brightly) Ooh, that's perfect~ Let's go.

Karane: (Eyes Widened at Hahari Along with the Rest of the Girls) Wait, now!?

Hakari: Mother, we have one more class to go before school finally ends.

Hahari: Oh yeah....(Simply Shrugs) I suppose an early dismissal is in order for today.

Rentarou Family: Huh?

Hahari: (Calls Up her Maid on her Walkie Talkie) Mei, would you be dear and make an early dismissal announcement before heading back to the mansion with us please?~

Mei: (Talking From the Walkie Talkie) As you wish, Milady. (Makes her Announcement on the School's Speaker) Attention, all students and staff members, due to a sudden occursmce that came up for the Chairwoman's schedule, school will now be dismiss early for the the today. I repeat: students and staff members of Ohananomitsu High Scool will now be qualified to dismiss early from school at this time. We apologize for the inconvenience and please, have a very nice day.

Rentarou: ............Well, that's a convenient solution- WOAH! (Suddenly Gets Scooped Up into Hahari's Arms)

Hahari: (Happily Carrying Rentarou) Sure was!~ Now let high tail our tails out of here ladies and gent!~ (Makes her Way to the Door Entry While Smiling Down at Rentarou) I'll make extra sure you'll be safe in my arms, my dear~ (Starts Kissing Rentarou on the Cheek)

Rentarou: (Chuckles Ticklishly) That's very sweet of you, Hahari-san, thank you!~

Karane: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on her Face Along with Hakari) And there she goes.....

Hakari: She could at least have the common decency to wait until after we leave school grounds, to do all of that..... (Follows Hahari Behind Along with the Rest of the Ladies)

Happy Berated 100 Girlfriends' Second Season Premiere Day, Folks!!

@100kanojos

@bestpony666

[tinycoded360]

Sterling Household : Wax

Milton Borrowfield stood poised on the edge of the family's secret entrance. Beside him stood his eldest daughter, Agnes, her eyes wide with determination, eager to prove herself. She was getting close to the age and skill where he would trust her to borrow alone.

"Alright, Agnes," Milton whispered, his voice barely audible against the quiet backdrop of the giant's dwelling. "Remember the plan: we move silently and swiftly, keeping to the shadows. Our goal is the candle wax; it will be useful as a fire starter in our kitchen.”

Agnes nodded. "I understand, Papa.” Her fourteen-year-old mind quickly processed the importance of their task. "But what if we encounter the giant?"

"Stick close to me, and I'll protect you," Milton assured her, his eyes filled with love and concern. "While I don’t think he’d hurt us, given his past actions, it’s safer not to interact with him."

As they approached their destination, Milton couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his daughter. Agnes was a natural, her curiosity and bravery shining through even in this tense situation. He knew she had the potential to become a great borrower, just like him.

"Papa," Agnes whispered urgently, pulling Milton from his thoughts. "The candles are just up ahead. We're almost there."

"Stay focused, my dear," he reminded her as their objective came into view. The used candles were clustered on the counter, their lower halves coated in precious wax - the very substance that would bring warmth and start their stoves in the Borrowfields' home. Milton knows that Sterling usually melts all the leftover wax down into one. The human seems to hate waste, which Milton can appreciate. But Milton suspects Sterling has purposefully left these out, postponing his task. It’s become more of a pattern, the human leaving things out. Which has further confirmed to Milton that the human is aware of them. This knowledge drives Milton crazy with worry. He doesn’t understand why the human hasn’t tried to capture or trap them. The human had even kept his cat confined in his bedroom, making borrowing missions much easier. 

He squeezed Agnes' hand, then began scaling the cabinets leading up to the kitchen counter. His tiny hands found grooves to grip as he climbed. Agnes watched anxiously from below.

Once he was up on the counter, he gave his daughter the all-clear to throw her grappling hook up. He helped secure it. And he watched with pride as his eldest scaled up the string.

Milton and Agnes worked quickly, using their small chisels to chip away at the wax. They filled their packs,

At last, their packs were full. Milton scanned the tabletop. No trace remained of their presence.

"Let's go," he whispered.

Agnes nodded determination in her young eyes. They scurried to the edge and peered over. Milton slid down first, catching Agnes as she followed.

Milton and Agnes moved swiftly and silently through the walls, retracing their steps back home.

Agnes let out a small sigh of relief as the entrance to their home came into view. The familiar warmth and light felt especially comforting after the tense journey through the giant's domain.

As they slipped inside, Agnes' mother, Cassia, hurried over, concern etched on her face.

"Thank goodness you're back safely," she said, embracing them both. Then, spying the clumps of wax, her eyes lit up.

Milton put an arm around Agnes' shoulders. "Our girl is growing up. She'll be leading these missions herself before long."

Agnes beamed with pride.

****

"Are you worried about Sterling? Cassia asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned over her husband’s shoulder.

Milton sighed, his expression pensive.

"Of course I am," he said. "It worries me, he knows, but our best option is to wait and see if he is a threat. And if he if……Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Chapter 5:

[runawaycarouselhorse]

[Black Iron Submarine mini-review, spoilers]

I finally saw Black Iron Submarine (on a Saudia flight as an in-flight movie—the subtitles were interesting because they used the Arabic dub names (some characters got atypical pronunciations like Shinichi got rendered Sinichi, pronounced more like Senshi in the Arabic dub, Kogorou is Tougo and Sonoko is Souko/Soko???) and a sort of masking of the Organization's codenames, translating them in odd ways to make the alcohol origins a little unclearer, I guess, but otherwise, solid subs. The advisory warning at the start amused me, but reasonable, given the blood and violence (that bullet ripping through that woman's head. -shudders-)

It was an exciting and fun film, absolutely adored the Haibara Ai/Miyano Shiho focus, Gin looks great in the anime again (I'm curious as to who decided many of his scenes should have flowing hair bathed in golden light, it's gorgeous, but MAN... so glad he looks good in the anime again), Naomi Argento being grateful Shiho took the attention off her as a new subject of bullying, but being too scared to stand up for her, so Shiho's alone in all her school security camera pictures in the States... is so, so, so sad, but so believable. A lot of people are too scared to speak up against what's wrong, fearing they'll be targeted, so quietly look the other way.

Gotta love Vodka being a classic movie mobster surrounded by more hardened criminals, complaining about another organization member trying to climb up the ranks, even if he does so by hurting others... I also love how he's totally down to believe Sherry shrunk into a kid somehow and calling up the very skeptical Gin about it, fff. But the movie also still remembers Vodka is no stranger to cruel threats and punishments...

Naomi's family being threatened, her tears over her father, the way her pure-intentioned system meant to protect everyone regardless of age or race and locate missing persons was under pressure to be repurposed for sinister goals... it was such a triggering situation for both Hondou Hidemi (Kir) who remembered being forced to shoot her father to complete the mission herself and throw off suspicion of her being a spy like he was... and Sherry's sister being killed and her parents' drug which she had to continue developing being repurposed as a method of murder by poisoning...

Real-world technology has advanced so much that the aging up we saw in an earlier movie now can be pulled off by AI. Artificial intelligence was actually very realistically portrayed in this movie, because aging up photographs of kids and getting a disturbingly close representation of what they might look like as adults based on data about bone structure and patterns it learned is spot-on and a real world concern?!

Absolutely loved Vermouth doing her best to help her Silver Bullet protect that girl.

I felt really bad for Conan when a man caught a falling Ran and Conan briefly lifted his arms and smiled ruefully... he knows he couldn't have caught her himself in this form, it's sad...

Lots of Conan and Haibara scenes to shiptease the AiCon fans too.

Nice throwback in Sherry's nightmare to her Street Corner of Betrayal Gin nightmare. "I've been dying to see you, Sherry..." they sadly did not interact much directly, but it's also understandable, given how much of their past relationship is shrouded in mystery. The writers likely don't want to contradict or misinterpret... it's still too tricky to get right.

False positives and AI's potential for error being signifcantly plot relevant was so clever and great.

Love the post-credit scenes tying it all together!

Haibara was so sweet, giving up her Fusae brooch, when we know how much she loves her brands. ;3;

I didn't figure out the culprit at all, but I smelled red herring all over the racist German dude Leonhardt. He was just too easy to hate, but lacked a real motivation for crime, he's just made to be easy to hate and easy to blame.

I am SO glad this movie did not decide to kill such a lovely original character as Naomi because Sherry deserves more friends, especially ones around her real age. ;__;

[esther-dot]

BNF will dissect each interaction or thought regarding Sansan to look the underneath meaning behind them. Despite writer is much more clear about their role and show how much Hound abused Sansa. BNF has no problem in shipping Willas and Harry with Sansa. Even when Willas never appear in books or met Sansa. And Harry appear in only one chapter in TWOW still people are expecting him to be Lord of Vale. Yet thinking that Jon and Sansa could be potential couple they feel it's crackship or people shipping them are delusional. Sansa being home safe and queen is absurd to them.

It is very, very amusing which ships are considered canon or noncanon by the fandom, and how, to them, certain things like say, verbal abuse, threats of violence, attempted rape, aren't an issue for a potential romantic relationship, but cousin marriage (in a story in which cousin marriage is unremarkable) is forbidden.

I think perhaps the problem is, we have read the story so differently, we look at the relationships / potential relationships in incompatible ways. For Jonsas, we look at this quote:

Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. "Life is not a song, sweetling," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow." In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound's voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. "Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants." (AGOT, Sansa VI)

and we think Sansa's story isn't that she should listen to the men who abuse and molest her. We think, that despite the horrors she faces, her belief in knights and heroes is already being validated by Jon and Brienne, that it is only a matter of time before her despair, "no one will ever marry me for love" will be answered by someone who does love her.

That conclusion means that men who marry her to rise to power, men who molest her, insult her, attempt to rape her, men who want her to give in and give up, that they can't be the canon romantic pairing Martin has for her, because for one of them to be, is contrary to the story he is writing. The monsters will not win.

Some of us ship Jonsa for funzies and don’t think it was ever going to be canon (books or show), but for others of us, Jonsa is meant to happen to allow Martin to end the sentence he began in AGOT.

There are heroes, there are true knights, Sansa will be loved.

Jon beheaded Slynt, Brienne exists, we've have reason to be optimistic!

As for the rest of it, there are Sansa fans and Jonsas who don't think she will be queen, but calling people delusional for believing she will end up in Winterfell when we have a prophecy about her ending LF there...I don't see the point in denying it. Most of us would be thrilled with KitN Rickon, so you can’t even argue her being queen is wishful thinking on our part. It isn’t necessarily anyone’s dream ending, it’s just the ending some of us think Martin is heading towards. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[bohemian-nights]

Don’t get me wrong I’m all for women empowerment and feminism (though as many have pointed out before on this app Rhaenyra isn’t really a fan of 🤫) but something about Team Green is really starting to appeal to me.

The complexity of Alicent and all of her relationships (platonic and otherwise *alicole*), Otto and his schemes (as a father he sucks but as a politician…🫠), the relationship between Aegon, Helaena and Aemond (Daeron too but he’s in Oldtown), the complex personalities of the three (I would like to point out that I do not support show!Aegon. I feel as though his character has thus far been wasted potential. Especially since while he was book wise an alcoholic and a cheater he wasn’t a rapist and he wasn’t putting the children of said rape in fighting pits). I am of the opinion that EVERYONE (some worse than others) got screwed over personality wise but geez 🙄.

I hate unnecessary violence and trauma against women but especially sexual trauma. We didn’t get a sex scene with Aemma and Laena but we did get the horrifying scene of Aemma’s medieval c-section, and of course the “GiRl BoSs fEMinISt" scene of Laena committing suicide. While there has been no sexual or implied sexual violence against Baela and Rhaena adding them to the fight scene with Aemond, Jace and Luke was unnecessary violence that they were forced to endure (while there father of course doesn’t even blink an eye to them bloody and bruised 🙄🫠). Every sort of sexual scene we have seen Alicent in has been her being abused in some way.

Rhaenyra was abandoned half-naked and vulnerable in a whore house (I would also like to point out that this is Rhaenyra’s first sexual experience of any kind) by the man we are meant to believe is the love of her life, and then is later chocked by the same man because of her unwillingness to immediately resort to war + the fact that said man was never completely trusted by his brother (I actually like Daemon but god has his character been screwed over).

Anyway…this was originally just supposed to be about how I was starting to see the appeal of Team Green but then I got carried away and now thinking about all of this I’m kinda pissed lol.

👏🏽Talking about this show does not bring out the best feelings 🤣

I’ve always liked the Greens(probably cause they remind me of the Lannisters and they were the house that I originally gravitated to when I first watched GOT).

I know people say that we are supposed to view Greens as the bad guys during the Dance, but to me, they are still sympathetic. Look at things from book!Alicent’s position and tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing🙃 You’d be a literal fool to side with Rhaenyra knowing your sons would always be seen as a threat to her and it’s already been proven that she has no qualms killing family(see Ser Vaemond which happened well before the Dance 😗)

While I disagree with many of the changes made in the show, the Greens (besides Aegon who they managed to make look worse than his book counterpart 🤦🏽‍♀️) are given much more complexity than Team Black as a whole.

Granted, the show has a problem with throwing everyone(the exception being Aemond who is Ryan Condal’s Daemon🤣) under the bus to prop up Rhaenyra, but Team Black characters have it bad*(ex. Laena being treated as the disposable Blackish woman and her girls being pretty props🫠).

Supporting Team Black because of “feminism” makes no sense considering Rhaenyra is about as feminist as Missy Anne(and that’s not hyperbole before anyone tries it because Queenie uses racism to justify ordering a potentially pregnant Nettles’ death🙃).

She’s not trying to break the wheel. She doesn’t even help other highborn women(see the Rosby and Stokeworth ladies) or her own stepdaughters(she herself would never agree to being just a queen consort like how she wants Baela to be😗)She’s not Dany.

She just wants to have occupy the head seat with the boys. She's not going to help any other woman get there 🤷🏽‍♀️

I'm really team-neutral, but the Greens are not nearly as bad as people make it seem and the Dance isn't as cut and dry either(both sides have good and bad characters with the main claimants being sh*tty people who very nearly get their entire family killed).