#i don't think they're my friends or that i know them at all

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (43/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.5k

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A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.

When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously. 

“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”

“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”

Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”

Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her. 

“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room. 

Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”

You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”

“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”

“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”

Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?” 

The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”

“And what was the stake?”

Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”

A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”

Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine. 

“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine. 

You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”

Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”

You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”

Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”

“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses. 

Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.

“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”

You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"

“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”

With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”

“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door.  ”You coming?”

You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”

Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”

You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”

Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead. 

“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway. 

Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”

You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”

“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”

You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”

The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”

“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”

Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”

You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood. 

“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”

“We didn't.”

“But you did something.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”

You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”. 

Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot. 

You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell. 

When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.

“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it. 

“Everything's fine,” you smile.

He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”

“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer. 

Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.

Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”

Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him. 

Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”

As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you. 

Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you. 

“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face. 

“What do you mean?”

You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”

“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.” 

“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”

Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”

You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”

“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”

“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”

When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box. 

“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed. 

“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you. 

“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.

You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”

Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”

Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless. 

“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly. 

You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you. 

“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”

You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard. 

Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin. 

His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple. 

“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more. 

When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”

With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses. 

Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner. 

“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully. 

The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier. 

“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”

“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”

The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”

“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”

Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”

Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”

Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”

You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”

While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress. 

“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”

You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”

“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”

Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall. 

The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show. 

You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.

“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.

You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”

“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps. 

You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”

He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively. 

“It would be rude to cancel now.”

“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”

You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”

“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”

His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”

“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”

As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.

“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark 

Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”

[sage-nebula]

This has been spinning around in my head since I watched season 2 arc 1, and I can't refrain from putting it down to post anymore.

In season 1, Jayce and Viktor get into a fight when Viktor evades the blockade to go speak to Singed in Zaun. During their fight, Jayce snaps at Viktor that he didn't know that Viktor's friend was from the undercity, and when Viktor asks why that matters, Jayce says the above: [people from the undercity] are dangerous (earlier he had also said, "there are people down there who seem hell-bent on destroying us!"). That's when Viktor grows cold, reminding Jayce that he is from the undercity, and even after Jayce apologizes, Viktor knocks his hand away, choosing to stand up on his own.

In season 2, chembarons hired by Ambessa (though no one knows that at the time) attack the memorial for the dead council members. In the aftermath, Caitlyn calls them animals. Notably, Vi shows no reaction at all to this; she doesn't so much as flinch at Caitlyn's word choice. Instead, while she does downplay what happened to an extent ("they wanted the spectacle, they're trying to scare you"), what's notable is that she separates herself from the people of Zaun. This is especially notable when she tells Caitlyn to call off the invasion, because of the risk it poses for those not from Zaun:

"Down there, you'll be on their terms."

Viktor seems to have pride in the fact that he is from Zaun. He has love for his home. As difficult as life was there, as much as the pollution led to his illness and disability, he has no shame that he's from Zaun and he still sees value and has love for the people there. This is why, when Jayce writes the Zaunites off as "dangerous", Viktor grows cold. He is no different from them, in his mind; if they're dangerous, then so is he.

Vi is . . . different.

In season 1 arc 1, Vi expresses to Vander that she has bought into and believes that those in Piltover are more than those in Zaun:

Now, here, Vi is still grouping herself in with the rest of Zaun. But there is a level of self-hatred (and hatred for one's home) that we don't see in Viktor. Viktor doesn't see himself as lesser than those in Piltover. He doesn't see the Zaunites as lesser than those in Piltover. Vi, however, does. She states this as if it is a fact. And while she loved her family, and has parts of Zaun that she likes (e.g. Jericho's food), it's worth noting that at the end of season 1 episode 1, she isn't telling Powder that they'll liberate Zaun, or fight for Zaun, or anything like that. Instead?

"This city's gonna respect us." This city. Not our city. Here is the first moment we see in which Vi puts some separation between herself and the rest of Zaun. She wants to make them respect her (and Powder). Even if she's less than those in Piltover, she still sees an opportunity for herself to be above those in Zaun.

All of this is to say that, when she has no reaction to Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", when she refers to them as "they," when she refers to Zaun as "their terms" . . . ultimately, it isn't too surprising. Vi represents a type of person who does exist in marginalized groups: the self-hating type, who hate others in their group for "drawing aggression" or "negative attention."

Think about queer people, for instance, who hate those who are flamboyant or open about who they are and who they love. The ones who think, "If we just assimilate more, be less of a bother, be less obnoxious, then the queerphobes will accept us." Obviously, other queer people find this type of person extremely frustrating, sometimes even infuriating, because we know that it doesn't matter what we do or how we act; bigots will never accept us.

But what we should understand, and extend compassion for, is that self-hating marginalized people are that way because it's a defense mechanism -- a survival mechanism, really. They can't square why bigots hate them, so they reach for any kind of explanation they can find, even if that explanation ultimately blames others in their own group and does more harm than good. Not to mention that hating yourself for who you are is often a result of long-term, systemic abuse -- the exact same kind of abuse that comes from living under an oppressive regime that murdered your parents and will assault you at any given opportunity, even for something as petty as your little sister miming shooting them with finger guns.

Vi says that she, "grew up knowing [she] was less than them." This is extraordinarily damaging to the psyche, and Vi's self-hatred -- and the extension of that hatred toward Zaun, not wanting to save them but wanting to make them respect her -- is a trauma response to that. One that Viktor, obviously, doesn't share (and neither does Ekko, or Jinx) -- but everyone reacts to trauma differently.

The point is, we saw shades of this already in Vi's childhood; her statement that she's less than topsiders, but that she wants those in the undercity to respect her. So when Caitlyn calls the Zaunites animals, Vi doesn't flinch. She agrees. And she speaks of them as separate from her, because Caitlyn has already designated her as one of the good ones (reinforced to her by what Maddie told her Caitlyn said right before the memorial), and because, well, those who attacked the memorial did do something horrible. And maybe if they wouldn't do that, and maybe if Jinx hadn't blown up the council building -- maybe if they were better behaved -- then the enforcers wouldn't have to invade and do what they were about to do, now would they? Those in Zaun -- or at least those in Zaun who decided to strike against Piltover -- brought it on themselves, so Vi isn't with them. She's with Caitlyn, and is okay with referring to them as animals.

It's interesting to think about.

[badgerbaggage]

Look, unfortunately, Santa is actually right.

And I think it's a means of our survival.

We need to entrench ourselves in our communities, fortify our bonds, recruit sympathizers. We start where it's safe, but we start exposing these people to the fact that we're not disposable, that we're not some scapegoat.

So let's reframe "disagreeing yet remaining friends."

You don't need to agree, nor "be friends" with bigoted ideologues to practice what the Santa account is saying.

Treating them as a friend is a performance (as many human social customs are). Be polite and be interested in their personal lives, what matters to them, what they're excited for, what they're afraid of. be known in your community, whether it's as a flashy character that's a staple of the local alternative bar, or as someone who walks their dog around the neighborhood. Find ways to display your artwork somewhere in town. Do favors for people.

You can refuse to engage with the horrible bigotry.

Rejection is a subtle means of advertising "this is intolerable and I will not engage with you if you continue." If somebody brings up something volatile, simply excuse yourself to get some water. You can leave outright, or you can return and try to shift the conversation. It is very difficult to do this when the current climate is about LIFE AND DEATH to us, but it is possible. This is a means of survival. Tread carefully and keep yourself safe. Let people understand you as a being before they know you as an extension of your identity.

On a wider scale, people NEED to be exposed to these larger topics other than through rightwing propaganda.

Experiencing queer people is far better if it's firsthand. "The supreme leader hath given us a new Scapegoat" works because they have completely MONOPOLIZED the narrative of who we are to our communities. They listen to the Heritage Foundation propaganda because that's the only depiction they've seen. Yes, some of this is out of their own ignorance and malice, but you DO have the power to change minds.

People also need to experience WEIRD SHIT that isn't hurting ANYONE.

There are unironically people who hate us just because their entire perception of us is manufactured by third parties. We all have the power to change perceptions in little ways. For example, I dress up like a punk werewolf and walk to a local alternative bar through a park and bustling downtown, even past an ice cream shop. It paints a massive target on me that says "IM WEIRD, LOOK AT ME." It is terrifying and I am incredibly uncomfortable the entire walk, but I'm exposing people to my gender queer ass in the periphery (I have the privilege to do this for many reasons; I'm not exactly living in my old, conservative, shitty hometown. Your mileage may vary). I am become Exposure Therapy.

You don't have to save the world, you just have to save yourself.

Again, we must ENTRENCH ourselves in our communities. We must forge bonds that our communities don't want to sever. Take root and prepare for the storm. Your efforts alone won't save the world, but if we can all just become a valued part of the life of 1 single detractor, that would have drastic effects on the national perspective of our movement.

Isolation is the end-bringer.

Just find one thing to agree with someone on. If they're deplorable, you can just agree that the weather is shitty, but through careful conversation and creative framing, you can easily get a hardcore MAGA fanatic to agree on culture and policy issues. We often want the same things, like freedom and prosperity. Find the NUGGET under the fascist shit and say, "we both want to be safe and with our families. We're not so different afterall."

LEGITIMIZE YOURSELF!!!

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 11: Free Fall

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)

(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!

May 2025 

It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 

It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 

Except, the moment is here now. 

And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 

The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 

“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”

Another broken promise. 

The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 

The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 

Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 

Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 

“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 

“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”

Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”

“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.

All that matters is the game. 

Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 

***

Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 

***

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 

Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 

She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 

A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 

The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 

No. 

She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 

Louder. 

Stronger. 

No.

Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.

 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 

Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 

“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 

Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”

Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 

Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 

“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”

Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 

“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 

“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”

“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 

Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”

Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”

It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 

“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 

“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 

This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; know that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 

Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”

“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”

“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”

She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 

“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 

“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 

The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”

He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”

“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”

“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”

And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”

And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 

She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 

***

May 2033 

It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 

It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 

Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 

And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 

That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.

But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 

Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 

All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 

But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 

Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”

The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 

“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 

Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”

Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”

“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 

“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”

“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 

Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 

“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”

“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 

It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”

“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.

Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”

“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”

“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”

“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 

“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”

Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 

 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 

“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”

Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 

She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 

“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 

“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 

“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”

“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 

“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 

“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 

“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”

“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 

Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”

“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”

There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 

“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”

She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”

“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest

“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 

“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”

Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 

“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”

Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  

There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 

“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”

“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 

“Az-”

“He hates me-”

“He doesn’t-”

“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”

“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 

“Have you forgiven me?” 

The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 

“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 

Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”

The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 

“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”

Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 

And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 

***

Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.

Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 

“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 

“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 

Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”

Stephie pouts, “why not?”

“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 

“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”

“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 

“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”

“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 

“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 

“Ste-”

“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”

“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 

“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 

She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”

“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 

“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”

“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”

“Paige-”

“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”

She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 

“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 

“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 

“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”

My daughter. 

The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 

“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”

“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 

“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 

The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 

It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 

“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 

Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 

Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”

“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 

“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 

A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”

“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”

“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 

“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 

“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”

Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 

“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 

Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 

“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers. 

“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”

Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”

Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”

“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”

Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 

“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”

“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”

“Paige-”

“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 

“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 

“Drew-”

“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”

Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 

“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”

[snuffysbox]

Some thoughts on Dragon Age Veilguard and Rook.

I'm currently only halfway through Act 2, so no endgame spoilers, but I have thoughts about the game that I doubt will change with the ending.

It should have been the Inquisitor's continued story.

Straight up.

I don't hate Rook, far from it, I think they're charming most of the time and the VAs do a good job with the acting, but Rook is just a Guy ™️

They're literally just a person who has no special qualifications for leading the Veilguard, aside from being Varric's partner. All of your companions are far more qualified experts in their field who easily outshine Rook in their chosen faction. Rook is just their manager, making sure they all have what they need in order to save the world. They're the Commander Shepard to their crew, if you're generous. But Rook doesn't hold the rank of commander, they're just a mildly controversial figure within their faction. Yes, Solas is in their head, but he's not particularly helpful most of the time (likely because his role was diminished after the pivot from Dreadwolf to Veilguard).

Like, I like a regular dude being thrust into a story as much as the next guy, but when the motivation is just 'Rook wants to save the world because they live in the world and it would kinda suck if it was blighted by the gods', I feel like that's not quite enough. Yes, you get some more direct stakes if you play as an elf, but that's one choice of four potential races, so I don't think that counts.

The Warden was also just a Guy™️before Duncan recruited them, but they were one of the only few wardens left. Hawke was just a Guy™️but their story was much more personal, and what was at stake was moreso Hawke's family and friends. The Inquisitor was just a Guy™️but their ability to close rifts gave them a unique role within their organization.

None of the other protagonists were replaceable (within their story circumstances). I feel like Rook is kinda replaceable. If they got knocked out for a week and couldn't lead the team, any of the other companions (especially Harding or Davrin) could easily take over.

Imo, it would make a lot more sense if Varric and the Inquisitor had been the ones to track down Solas. It would make a lot more sense for Solas to be stuck inside the head of the Inquisitor. It would make more sense for them to be leading a new, smaller team after the dissolution of the Inquisition (or even if not disbanded, they could have left Cullen or Cassandra in charge).

I know Veilguard went through production hell. I know they had to pivot away from live service multiplayer. I know it's insane they even made a final, polished single player game after such a pivot. I know they were probably expected to make something to please the masses or risk studio closure.

I just think it's such a shame that what we got has so little in common with earlier titles, especially lore-wise. Rook is not a terrible protagonist. But the Inqisitor would honestly have been a superior choice, in my mind. Same new companions, same setting, same antagonists.

I'm sure a version of that exists out there somewhere, as an early concept. I'm just sad we didn't get to see it.

[siriuslysmoking]

Villian and Violent

SPOILER WARNING ! SPOILER WARNING ! SPOILER WARNING!

If you haven't watched Outer Banks season 4 part 2, DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT READ THIS

AN: this fic is strictly for @jlovesjj, I DO NOT write for Rafe <3, she is just a very very sad girl, in light of the recent events, I am trying to provide her with any comfort so she can stop crying. Thank you and good day.

Pairing: Rafe x Reader, bsf!JJ x reader

Warnings: It's sad, angst, death, violence, not edited (She's impatient)

You all look up to the statue that the crown was hopefully in. All you you could barely see due to the sand storm enclosing you all.

"Hey! I'm gonna go up and scope it out!" Rafe shouts over the deafening wind in your ears.

"I'm not leaving it up to him!" JJ shouts back to the group, you can practically feel Rafe rolling his eyes as he grabs your hand. Like hell is he letting you leave his sight.

"No, I'm with you!" Kiara says, joining JJ. You look back and barely see Sarah and John B struggling, She doesn't look okay, so you hear JJ shout to them.

"Hey! John B, you two sit this one out, okay? We'll find the crown..." That's the last you heard as you and Rafe make your way up the hill. Once you make it to the top of the hill, you and Rafe both meet each other's eyes. Then he starts trying to climb up the statue, he doesn't get three feet up, before the wind knocks him back down, You look at him and realise once he stands back up that it wasn't just the wind it was also his hand still bothering him. He holds it close you his chest, looking at you as both Kiara and JJ come racing up the hill.

"Hey! I can't get up there, not with this hand!" He shouts at JJ and Kie. You see them both have a conversation that you can't hear, even with them a few feet away, it's hard to hear yourself think.

"Right now this is our chance! They've taken everything away from us. They're not gonna take this too!" He pulls down his mouth covering so Kiara can hear him better. "I gotta do this, I gotta do this for all of us. I mean, hey, it was my fault to begin with. So, I mean, I should be the one to fix it."

They hug each other and JJ moves over to you and Rafe, getting ready to climb. You step up to him and say, "Hey, you're my best friend, so don't do anything stupid."

He hugs you and speaks, "I'll try."

He lets you go and looks to Rafe, Rafe helps him step up onto the platform, "You got it!"

"Hey! You'll get your cut!" JJ yells, before beginning his climb up. Rafe and you both climb down to stand with Kie and watch JJ as he moves up the statue. You hold Kiara's hand as you watch some of the old loose rocks fall around him. Suddenly he's only hanging on by one hand. You gasp as Kiara shouts his name.

Once he finally gets himself to the large platform you feel as though you can finally take a breath. As you watch JJ you hear a voice. "They have to be up here!"

You all meet each others eyes, Rafe speaks first, "Shit, here they come."

Kie shouts to JJ, trying to get his attention, but he seems confident that he can get the crown in time. "Hey! You stay here. I'll go down and buy us some time."

Kiara nods as you step to go with Rafe, "What? Rafe, are you crazy? They'll kill you!"

"I'm a killer too, I've got nothing to lose." He shouts then looks at you, "You're staying here."

"You can't make me." You yells back firmly. He knows that there is no use in fighting and you're losing time. he makes his way down the hill with you trailing behind him.

Rafe makes you stay back as you approach the group of Mercenaries, he has the luck of the storm not his side, so that they don't see him coming. He goes and cuts the man from behind, as he works with that man you see one heading your way. You're by the man's side so while he looks through the scope of his gun you shove the barrel down and jam the butt of the gun into his jaw. It knocks him down for a second before you step back and he grabs your ankle, tripping you. You stumble as he gets up and he makes his way towards you. Without any weapon, you're out of luck, he's already grabbed his gun, so you make a run for it.

You head into the small village, trying to outrun the guy. You stumble into a deserted house and looks for anything that could be considered a weapon.

"Come out you little bitch!" he shouts, by the door frame of the house, she sees the barrel of the gun and jumps out for the behind the wall and slams a stone to his head. Blood starts flowing from the top of his head, but that only slowed him down and made him more angry. He did happen to drop his gun of the impact, you grab it and slam the butt of the gun to his forehead before you can even think about what you're doing. he falls to the ground with a heavy 'thump', and you finally take a breath. You hang onto the gun, just for safekeeping, as you set a mission to find Rafe. That's when you hear a soft gunshot in the distance, you immediately perk up and try to run to the source, but with this wind and all the walls that carried it, it could be from anywhere. You head down different passageways and alleys and houses.

Once you travel far enough and the storm starts slowing down, you can finally hear something. You think it's Rafe, your worst fear is him being hurt or worse but what you come upon is much worse than anything you can imagine. You can now recognize that the sounds you heard was not in fact Rafe, it was Kie, she was leaning onto JJ's legs, crying, then you realise the small movements of JJ's chest is gone, that he sits there lifeless. You drop the heavy gun and start to tear up, Kiara doesn't even look your way, you don't think she even cares about anything other than JJ in this moment.

You start to feel your knees buckle before strong arms wrap around your middle, You'd try to get them off but you realise you have no more fight left in your body, after the days of being on the run with lack of food and water, it's finally caught up to you, and all it took was seeing your best friends body lifeless on the ground. You move a little, mumbling something about getting off of you and then you hear a whisper, "It's me, It's me."

At the sound of you boyfriends soft you, you finally let yourself fall, letting out a horrendous sound out of the back of your mouth. Rafe lets his back fall down the wall with you in his arms. You both sit the on the stone in each others arms as he rocks you back and forth.

You can't even think, a life without your best friend in it's not a life worth living.

Rafe shushes you, saying soft words into your ears. You don't even notice when the rest of the group stumbles upon you guys, you don't think you even care.

You feel pathetic as Rafe carries you back, he has to set you down to go up a large sand dune, but he doesn't let go of your hand at any point. You sit next to him as he buries a grave for JJ's body, you watch him as he lowers it into the sand, you shake as he slowly covers it back up with sand.

You sit with your back to his front as you sit before the fire. You have cried all your tears, your eyes feel dry and body feels weak, as Rafe supports your body. Your eyes get heavy as Rafe whispers to you, "you'll be alright, I promise."

You don't believe him, you think he's lying, but it was nice to hear anyways.

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated

[featherandferns]

my thoughts on the rudy/madison discourse and obx 4 generally (spoilers):

I watch obx 4 for the characters. I appreciate the actors, find their behind the scenes moments entertaining at times, and indulge in the occasional interview or Instagram post, but I do not 'follow' the actors. My fanfics are about JJ Maybank as a character, not Rudy Pankow. I appreciate Rudy Pankow's attraction, especially when playing JJ's character, but writing fanfic about Rudy himself (or any other actor) is, for me, uncomfortable. That isn't to shame anybody who does write or read such content, it just makes me personally feel uncomfortable.

All this to say: I don't care about the drama. I don't care about why Rudy left the show, whether this was his decision or the writer's. I think Rudy's girlfriend seems lovely, but I am highly aware neither myself nor anybody else knows her. Rudy is a grown man. He's in his twenties. He can decide who he does and does not want to date, and who he does and does not want to spend his time with, both on and off set. An Instagram post Rudy made on his story on Canadian Thanksgiving I think summed it up perfectly: he loves his girlfriend, and if people can't get behind that, then get out.

Furthermore, Madison and Rudy do not owe anybody anything. I don't find interest or want to engage in the toxic debate of the 'he said, she said'. They're all adults, they all have their own lives, this is all between them. The speculation and pressure from fans is cruel and uncalled for. They don't owe anybody insight into their private lives. Maybe they aren't friends anymore - that's okay! People drift apart, people fall out. Yes, it's sad to see the change from season 1 in terms of dynamics, but a lot can happen behind the scenes. That's life! Also, I don't like the comparison between Rudy and Madison, and Madison and Chase. People saying 'but the actual ex-couple can work together fine' are forgetting that every situation is different! I had an ex-boyfriend at an old job; I was pissed at him for a few months but civil at work, and then I got over it and he apologised and we became actual friends about a year after the break-up. However, I have other ex-friends and ex-lovers who I could not ever tolerate or be near, and I can't imagine what it would have been like having to work with them after a falling out. If this is the case for Rudy and Madison, that's a really tough thing to navigate! Give them grace - yes they're actors, but they're humans too! The bottom line is: it's their life, leave them alone.

Following on from that, stop placing blame! We don't know why Rudy left the show. There's all different opinions and sources about who said what, who did what, who is the 'bad guy'. Nobody knows the truth but the three involved and, as I said before, they owe this to nobody to disclose.

I think Rudy leaving the show, whilst sad, is a fair decision. OBX began filming in 2019. You do a lot of growing from there and, especially with changes in writing, you can want a change. I think actors can sometimes be too tethered to their characters and it limits their future work abilities, because nobody can picture them as anything other than that character. You can still have successful careers because of this (think Camila Mendes and Riverdale; Matt Le Blanc and Friends; Ellen Pompeo and Meredith Grey), but Rudy clearly wants to explore other areas and other characters, like theatre and Indie movies. Good for him! We should support him! I don't love this 'I'm sorry we couldn't save you from your actor, JJ' stuff, because Rudy gave his heart and soul to that character and that performance. He doesn't deserve to be punished because he craves a change. It's the same as any other job/career; we all want a change sometimes.

The writers and show creators have been getting a lot of backlash too. Here's my thoughts on season 4: was it their best season? No. Did it do some of the other seasons and previous plotlines/character development justice? No. Did JJ have to die? Not necessarily. However, it is easy to lose sight of the small picture when you have increased demand and increased budgets. Netflix like 'bigger and better'. When people are given more creative freedom, sometimes things can veer off course. We can forget the original character motivations, dreams and desires by getting caught up in the spectacle. The only show I've ever seen that really keeps the characters true and consistent, whilst developing, and never forgetting a plot point, is Bojack Horseman. To me, that is the only show. It's a shame, yes, that it veered so far from season 1's aesthetic, but that's how it is.

As a fellow creator, I feel it's cruel sending so much blatant hate to the writers and creators for making the show. If Rudy did want to leave, they had to find a way to make this work for JJ. Yes, I've seen some say 'he didn't have to die' but I sort of disagree. JJ is too loyal and attached to his friends to just 'go off' on his own to somewhere else. That would also be out of character. I think the way he died, and the build-up and plot points that didn't get resolved prior to his death, is a little annoying. I don't like how it wasn't in Kildare, in his home, and in a different country. But hey - that's just me.

I know, that if I took so much time and energy and money, working and building something that I am proud of just, just to receive so much black-and-white hate, I'd be crushed. Constructive criticisms and opinions are good - we can be upset about a character dying - but saying 'fuck you' and 'we hate you' is a bit mean, in my opinion. The time and energy and work gone into this season is astounding. The travelling and set design is incredible! I mean, the shop is the most awesome thing I've ever seen!

I also respect that they killed JJ. I'm not saying I wanted him to die. I'm saying, it pisses me off when shows give plot-armour to the main characters. It lowers the stakes. You know they're going to be fine because they're always fine (think the majority of Stranger Things - there's a really good video essay about that here btw that articulates this point a bit better). JJ's death was shocking and upsetting, that's how a death (in a show, at least) should be, but it means hey, there are real stakes here. It's not fair he died! He didn't deserve to die! But he did, oh my God. It takes guts to kill of a beloved, main character. I agree, JJ was my favourite part of the show, but I respect the choice, personally.

I liked season 4. It wasn't as good as season 1, I wish they stayed more grounded and didn't start so many plot points without resolving any/all of them, but I liked it. It was entertaining. The acting was pretty decent, though the chemistry and acting when Rudy and Madison had scenes together was a little disappointing (again, I don't want to point blame at a certain individual; it's hard to have good on-screen chemistry, especially when you don't feel like it matches your character's true motivations).

Was it unrealistic at times? Yes, but OBX usually is haha. It's a show about finding EL DORADO at this point, like I can accept that they let Sarah and JJ get swept into the sea during a storm and come out fine, without a single earring out of place. Sure, whatever, I'll take it (so unrealistic, 90% would drown and you'd at least shed your clothes to help you swim and stay afloat but WHATEVER. Also put your life jackets on guys wtf it's a STORM).

I wish there was more development on the plots, done by having less plots at once, and more conclusions for JJ before his death. I felt as though we were building up to a big blow-out/resolution with Pogues which never really came. Also, don't love how they handled JJ and his biological dad. I don't think he'd be that willing to trust a random man who abandoned him so easy. Yes, he's reluctant, but COME ON. JJ has the biggest trust issues. I just don't buy it. Also, explain, please, how Luke went from being so wonderful and gentle with JJ to full on abusive? Just a bit of explanation would be nice, please. Not a huge fan of the pregnancy plotline but hey, sure, whatever.

So, yes, that's my thoughts on everything: leave the actors alone; the writers have balls for killing JJ but that isn't necessarily a bad thing; give people grace; treat people with kindness; I'm going to keep writing for JJ; and season 4 altogether gets a 6/10 from me.

I'm open to different opinions, further thoughts, or just general musings/ideas. I hope this doesn't upset or offend anyone, I'm not trying to spark drama or shame a certain person or people: these are just my thoughts and views! So, I won't be participating in any 'who's the bad guy' discourse surrounding the actors. I'm just here for JJ and the Pogues. Take care of yourselves and spread positivity in this crazy, difficult time <3 and, of course, rest in peace, JJ Maybank <3

P.S. These are my season-by-season ratings: season 1 - 10/10; season 2 - 8/10; season 3 - 6/10; season 4 - 6/10.

[kurosagi-h8r]

I think it would be fun if darkwick has like a radio committee/club where they would read anonymous messages/letters for the school. Maybe they can invite the students as guest speaker too. I need Ed to be invited only for him to be like joke around and just beating around the bush haha hihi and then he dropped some big scandal/secret for all the school to hear.

How it works is the host will announce who the next guest speaker would be and then people can send anonymous letters, it can be about the guest or anyone, then the guest will have to read the letter there. On a live radio.

Yuri will either rant about darkwick general or openly threat frostheim students and endangering the radio committee.

Jiro will actually be pretty normal and give tips regarding student health. Until he read one anonymous letter with smth like love confession or poetry that's soooo Zenji style and he'd be like "...where did you get this?"

Subaru reading anonymous letters (sent by Leo) to corner him into spilling the beans about himself. Poor guy would struggle in front of the mic.

Can I be biased here? I want Haku to read a bunch of love letters lololol (i would send him tons tbh) JUST TO HEAR HIM oh-so-seductively CHUCKLE EVERY 5 SECONDS LETTER AFTER LETTER until I realize I wasn't the only one because some girl two seats away from me is giggling to herself hearing Haku reading her letter out loud. "Ahaha... so many love letters, are you guys sure it's all for me? All your love??? For a guy like me? I must've been a hero in my past life."

As for Tohma he would either read complaints or blatant complaints from another Frostheimers (i feel like he could tell just from the handwritting alone that the sender is from his house) and after reading the entire content he would go, "Thank you for the heartfelt letter, MR FUJI. I'll be sure to assess myself better but I would need more detailed information on your view regarding my performance as the Vice Captain. Please come to the Vault and be sure to come on time after this radio session. Should you be too busy, I can always interro– I mean interview your closent friend, the honor student. After all I don't mind having her attention all to myself." Or something along the line bcs he'd play dirty like that. (That's so hot of him tho i would at least admit it)

Sho wouldn't really be a guest speaker but if the radio committee needs to make some quick buck they could open a paid promotion and you would hear the committee promoting HTH lol. Like telling the audience about Discount of The Day that you wouldn't know unless you listen to the radio.

Also Haru would probably do the same too! He would want the radio to promote the safari lol.

Ritsu... can the committee even convince him to spare some time in his schedule to be their guest speaker? Would he charge them money? 😭 What if he starts spouting some laws about some legal wrongdoings the radio committee has done (which they didn't even realize) just by making this whole radio thing A THING.

Kinda same with Ritsu, the committee would have to pay Romeo for him to come. I just wish Kaito would send him a letter and everyone would hear Romeo curse tf out of that letter. I think by the end of the session he should put a bounty on Kaito's head. Just because.

What if someone say some bad things about Haru and then Towa IMMEDIATELY storm the studio or zap the radio tower 😭

Mizuki Rui dating advice session? Mizuki Rui dating advice session. Just like Haku he would receive anonymous love letters (or not anonymous. Honestly i would be bold too if it's him). They'd be such a huge confidence booster for him lol and he would give the senders cute nicknames if they're not anonymous.

There has to be messages about the teachers too. Hyde reading anonymous letter in which he could tell Sho was the sender. Students shit-talking about Moby and his weird ass idol obsession (i would be the sender just watch), *cough* students being nosy about the relationship between Benkei and Nicholas *cough* well well MC PLEASE MAKE THIS RADIO A PLACE FOR YOU TO LET YOUR HEART OUT PLEASEEEE YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN A FREEDOM OF SPEECH AT THE VERY LEAST 😭

The rest of them would either not care enough about the radio or become the sender. Leo would prefer to be the sender, i think. Ren would only send anonymous letter when Haru is the speaker to let everyone knows he dislike him and dislike being put in Jabberwock. Zenji will always send his poetry and probably most speakers would find it hard to understand his works, let alone reading them out loud 😭 Zenji himself would love to be the speaker but oh well~ still, it's an opportunity to spread positivity and hopefully he can brighten someone's day with his work.

[thatlotuscookie]

ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-

a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3

✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.

Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.

Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.

One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.

“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”

“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.

The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”

During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.

One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.

“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”

He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”

The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”

On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.

“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.

Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.

“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”

When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.

At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.

He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.

“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.

Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”

The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”

The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.

“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”

“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.

And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.

As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.

[jupitermoontarot24]

POV: You're In a Scary Movie 🎃 Villain or Victim?🔪

HI guys! Just a snippet from my Patreon from back during halloweek. Come Join Me For More Fun Readings Over There Weekly!

THANKS & ENJOY 💗 Patreon linked: HERE

Piles 1-5 and oh yea... BOO

Pile 1🤬

You would be the villain. I think you would be the villain because you're sexy and you bring all the cats to the yard.  you provide food and comfort. It's like if everybody in the neighborhood had cats and dogs and you put dog treats in your yard everyday, you know you will be attracting everybody's dog. like can you stop? lol and you might just be like oh well I'm just giving the dogs a treat but everybody else is like no. Yeah it's like you're so connected with people that people are like getting hypnotized. In this scary movie you could be seducing somebody's wife or seducing a couple. So the reason why you would be a villain in this is because maybe people wouldn't know what you're doing with the people that are seduced. like where do they go and what happens to them? Yeah it gives you collect souls or you do something with them. Okay so it could be like this couple has joined a cult. they look to you as a savior, as a guidance for them. It could be somebody else who's trying to get away from being hypnotized in this movie because they're afraid that it will cause them to  spiral. But honestly it seems like it's real true guidance from Spirit though. like in this movie you are looked at as a villain but it's just because this person is scared of the real truth. okay it seems like this person could be watching a couple be seduced by you or alert by you so this person is on high alert because they're like pile four is alluring people into them. So the only reason you're the villain in this movie is because you're the magician. So kind of like how people will burn witches at the stake but all witches are not bad witches. Pile 1 doesn't just have one person, they have two people, they have multiple people so what are they doing behind the scenes? They could also be getting Karma in this movie but it's weird because they don't see you doing anything like they can't see what you're doing so it could be like maybe you're doing magic. So in this scary movie this person is suspicious of you. They don't come to you and fight you but they might go to the man in the couple and see why or they might get in contact in some type of way. for some people the couple that you seduce is not together anymore because they both like you were one of them likes you more. Okay so to this person in this movie your villain plan would be to send out a frequency that reaches people and makes them loyal to you and then you harvest their energy or their souls and it makes you more abundant in the physical world. I think you do send out a frequency that goes to people, it brings them to their higher self it brings them to a piece of Nirvana and helps them gather resources for themselves strength…or it’s a evil ploy. It gives dr.doofinsmirk

Victim: none?/ everyone

Uzumaki

Pile 2 🔪

Okay so you would be the victim. they're going to be somebody who is obsessed with you or really really likes you. but the thing is this person wouldn't want you to be out they wouldn't want you to be a hot girl. no other girl no other person would be enough for this person but you.This person can already have a partner/girlfriend but they don't satisfy them enough. like this gives Joe energy from the show where it's like he might be obsessed with somebody but then once he gets them he becomes obsessed with somebody else. they would try to trap you but I feel like you would trap them instead. The crazy thing is is that you do know this person but it's not like you guys were ever in a relationship like you could have just worked together you could have went to school together, you could have mutual friends that ended up at the same places but this is not somebody who you romantically were involved with.I don't like this energy like that like the other pile was a little bit lighter but this person is kind of dark. So in this scary movie this could be a group of people or just a specific person but I feel like they feel that getting you would even the odds like it would make whatever situations balanced. Okay so this person probably did have a accomplice. it seems like this person could have manifested through their third eye basically evil eye because the third eye is very significant so this person could have been sending evil eye and trying to infiltrate you through the mind. The villain was trying to infiltrate you from the inside so you would basically unravel and be lost. Yeah, it seems like you were very hot girlish because this is Bratz rock angelz as the picture so I feel like you're somebody who was on the go, who was cool, who really left a impression on people and on this person specifically. so this is somebody that you could have just met on your adventures like not somebody that you really deep involved with. The accomplice could have made it their mission to make you cry. Maybe they didn't see you as emotional,  maybe you didn't come off like that and this person could have come up as emotional but you give steady and calm and balanced. They tried to plant things in your mind that weren't true basically make you crack,make you sweat. Okay so you're the main goal of the villain could have been to knock you off play with your head maybe close down certain chakras. Basically make you scared/ scare you off. I feel like everything dark comes to light and this person didn't want you to shed light on them so they were trying to cloud your judgment. They could have tried to do this through accomplice.So you definitely beat this villain by playing the switcheroo. you could have lured them to a certain place expecting you to be there but you aren't and instead you got them accomplished. it seems like they get offed energetically though I think you and your lover so maybe you can have like a surprise lover in this movie but they come and you guys energetically kill them off so it almost gives like couple versus couple or just accomplice versus accomplice like Kim Possible. Checkout pile 3

Villian: associate, could have been one your friends.

Blink twice, Bratz rock angelz ,death proof

Blink twice

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS MOVIE

Pile 3 👻

Unfortunately pile three you would be a victim. You would be a victim for being the it girl/boy. Have you watched this movie form the picture Love Don't Cost a Thing ? The girl in the middle and her friends were kind of mean. So this could start off with somebody liking you romantically. This could also be a situation where your friend is obsessed with you like obsessed with you being The It Girl. In this scary movie I think you could be coupled up with somebody so you could be dating somebody and the whole time one of your friends is plotting to mess it up. it gives me Mean Girls. Regina George was looked at as the bad guy, it could be said that that was her karma but Cady pretended to be her friend to sabotage and then she fell in love with her boyfriend that's messed up lol. in this scary movie you're just doing your thing being perfect, being beautiful, dressing amazing, being the main character and you attract someone's attention :a guy/girl?. but you have a whole bunch of Love offers because you're the most popular good looking person around and there's a particular person that proposes something to you and one of your friends sees it and they're like I don't like this. they're like that offer should be made to me? why does this person get everything? Why do they look so good? Why are they so alluring. so they gather up weaponry maybe not literally but different things to make this downfall. Yes so this could be a situation where this friend is only popular because they're around you..  the person that wants you romantically could be real popular as well they could be really good looking and they can have a lot of money.  I feel like this person was already maybe shallow in the first place but when you got with this person it was too much. So I think it would be two people because it is two friends in the picture but one specific person could have been the one trying to really seek out the revenge. The thing is that I feel like realistically it wouldn't work like this person wouldn't succeed at this plan. but you would still be the victim because the plan was made for you but I feel like you will get out of this in such a smooth way that it's funny. I feel like the universe will protect you to the point where you might notice something is off, but it works out like you might not have to do much to get this person away. this is not the type of scary movie where you are fighting to the death at the end with the killer no. this is the scary movie where you do know there's something off and you sense something's off and maybe you're having some type of paranormal experience but it ends up getting solved and the two people kind of disappear or disintegrate off. So in this scary movie it's like one friend would actually have been doing something and you can feel it and the other person probably will try to gas light you. so you could be like something's wrong I feel something is off and it could be specifically this person and the second friend is like you're crazy I don't like when you act like this I don't know if I can be friends with you anymore.Orrrrr they could have just been like you're overreacted its nothing take a chill pill, yeah this person could have been shallow like I said so they could have just been worrying about their looks and how they feel when you were likenreally going through it.So I think this villains plan was almost unknown to them I don't think they really knew where they were going with this they just wanted to be you.

They could have wanted to Destiny swap with you and also by doing that made you be with somebody else. Yeah so maybe they didn't really like their partner like that so they're like I want to be pile 3 and I want their partner and they can have my partner. Their boyfriend/girl could have been involved. check out pile 2.

villains:  a Duo ? a couple, two friends.

Gothika, Love Don't cost a Thing, the craft

Pile 4👿

I think you would be the victim. it gives one of those movies where you know those scene where its this couple out on the town,having fun and they're just in the moment and little do they know it's somebody up on the balcony staring at them. yeah you could be just minding your business and there's somebody who is hot! behind the scene. somebody who doesn't want you to be as abundant and Luscious as you are. This could be the type of scary movie where it's like a wolf in sheeps clothing around. so this person might present something to you but it's like a gag gift. They want you to be stuck somewhere. So you could just be minding your business having a good time and maybe a specific person starts pursuing you and now you're dating this person and they're treating you well  maybe you guys even get married? And the whole time it's this person in the back upset! do we know why? It's because they broke up. Honestly this person could have broken up with their partner but usually their partner comes back like a dog but they didn't because they found you. So you will be the victim because this person will now be on the bottom and their use to being a top priority. This person will be upset but I don't think they would do anything to you per say. I feel like they might try to protect you as a couple? like they don't want anybody else to date  your partner so they'll make sure that you guys stay together or at least make sure nobody else gets in between the relationship but they will be also trying to put themselves in situations to talk to your partner. Yeah like maybe not trying to outwardly get them but say they have the kids together like oh I need you to drop off some paperwork to me, or we need to talk about signing the bills off on my name now. something to where they have to speak. Your partner is really loyal in the scary movie so it's like they're not going for it like they don't want to be with them but it seems like they're always there so they could be following you guys around. you might look up and you guys are at Disneyland with your kids and you're like is that them in sunglasses and a hat? then the villain is like it's no way  pile 5 is this perfect like it's something about them thats going to come out, they're not perfect.  you come off really perfect and balanced. They could have seen you as a villain. They could feel like you were trying to erase them and what they've done but they're plan was to erase you especially if you guys haven't been together that long. they were just trying to get rid of you so they can focus on what they had, the history they have or the relationship/kids. Even make you mad to the point where you leave like you get fed up with the situation and you're like I'm just going to leave. Villian:an ex, stalker

Obsessed

Pile 5 🥵

Definitely the villain. something is shady about you pile 5. Not going to lie you are the sexiest villain to ever be. the villain but this gives a crime of passion. is it a crime? sade voiceYeah like this is more sexy than anything else. so in this scary movie you and your lover can have a lot of eyes a lot of suitors. and that could drive you to do certain things. I heard evening the playing field. this could be a situation where you just get your get back. Okay this is the type of scary movie where it's a psychological war on your partner. so maybe you make them go crazy, they don't know who's really you, is this the real you or if you're playing a game with them maybe they just aren't sure about anything.  it only drives you even more. it makes you raise your level of taunting. yeah the movie for you guys is basic instinct. people could be or your partner could be almost paranoid being with you because it's like are they going to kill me? are they going to do something to me when I'm not looking. but it seems like this is if they did something to you. this doesn't seem just unproved kind of like if they broke your necklace, is pile 5 going to break my neck. are they going to slit my throat? You're the villain because people are scared of you especially if they do something to you. you're like the Grim Reaper.  that type of energy where it's like the reaper is looked at to be really scary but he only comes when it's your time to die it's not really his fault. yeah and you could be nosy or just know a lot of information, see a lot of things, have a lot of eyes, find out things about people really easily so that makes you even more scary. yeah people are like if I do something pile one, if I make them mad.. they go blow out a candle and end my whole life. If I'm not nice they can find out my secrets. Maybe people have received really bad karma surrounding you, like maybe they totaled their car and then somebody walks up to them and issues them a government official debt collect on top of that and the person that presents it has the same name as you or has the same initials something like that. so people like dang there go my karma from pile on. like you have voodoo dolls and you poke them when they do something bad to you or if they were just a bad person. Also people could feel like you're the villain because you are good at seducing people even if it's not on purpose like people might try to seduce you into seducing them. people could lose their partners and be like dang what a villain. so in this scary movie you're a hot Queen / King that everybody is scared of and steals people partners. Either way you give crazy psycho hot person. I would say that your plan as a villain would be to give Karma to people that did you wrong. But honestly I do feel like you would use their energy to become hotter and smarter and faster. 

victim: could have been ppl who weren’t there for you during a tough time, a person left you to drown in your own stuff. 

Scary movie: Jennifers body, american psycho,

💗💗💗💗💗XOXOXOXOXO💗💗 💗🕺🏽🕺🏽🕺🏽🕺🏽

SEE U THERE ;)

[darlingcameron]

New idea: Rafe is friends with an autistic reader(female I apologize) mentions of good aversion, sensitivity to noise, swimming, masking.

"Is the food okay, dear?" Rose places a hand on your shoulder which you try to contain your uneasiness but you were a little weary of her and physical contact was something you were still getting use to so you tried your best to mask it.

You offer a smile and nod, "Oh yes, Mrs. Cameron it all looks so good I'm just-"

"She's autistic, Rose...I'll just bake her something else." Rafe speaks up, placing his napkin down and gets up from his seat and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you didn't want Rose to feel offended or make anything awkward, "No! Rafe I-i can try it- look!" You almost clumsily pick up your fork, circling the spaghetti around your fork but then looks at it for a moment, the sauce seeming almost offensive towards you and you shake your head. "Yeah, no nevermind..I'm so sorry...I know you put so much effort into this I just-" you rambled on as your people pleaser tentacles start to kick in and you look around fanatically between Rose and the plate in front of you.

"Y/N for the love of God, shut up-its fine just come with me and I'll see what I can make for you- let's go." He snaps his fingers towards the door that leads inside and you sheepishly smile at Rose before rising out of your seat and walk inside.

Rafe follows, sliding the glass door closed and goes over to the freezer. "What would it be? Chicken nuggets and fries again?" He looks over at you, holding the handle to the freezer and you shrug, "I don't know kind of getting bored of that being a safe food." You say as you lean against the counter, feeling awful and like you were a nuisance towards him and his family. "But I can deal with it."

"Nonsense, I'll just keep looking. Hey, how about some apples and peanut butter? Both healthy and contain protein." He asks, opening a cabinet and looking around, moving things about.

You wave him off, "honestly I can wait...I can just go hole and order mcdonalds."

"McDonald's isn't exactly a healthy choice." He says and you shrug, "there's a Chinese place down by where I live."

"And I think you order so much that thats the reason they're still open."

You roll your eyes. "Really Rafe, I can just wait..."

"Then you'll get cranky from your blood sugar dropping and you'll start to get panicky...remember the last time? You kept hitting your head and I thought you were gonna have a concussion." He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes the cabinet, looking over at you.

"Whats up with you tism people and fast food?" He asks, walking over to you.

"Convient, you don't have to make it or stress for like 30 minutes looking for what may look good, and if you order from a place enough it's a no brainer on what to eat." You shrug as you explain.

"You need to have a home cooked meal at some point." He states, placing his hands on his hips and staring down at you.

You chuckle, "Well until you become my personal chef I'd have to wait...you're very patient with me." You mumbles the last part, fiddling with your hands and he takes hold of them. You noticed his hands felt warm and you look up at him, "You're special to me."

You tilt your head at him, "Is that a special needs joke?"

He grins and wraps his arm around your shoulder, "Could be but you're still special...c'mon...let's go get some mcdonalds and worry about our health when we're old." He escorts you both to the front of the house.

"I'll still be eating chicken nuggets at 50."

"If you're alive by then with your health choices."

[tucsonhorse]

I am a teen librarian at a public library and all my coworkers seem amazed that I can "stand" to work with teens so much (even my supervisor who is very supportive told me not to get too narrowly focused because "teen librarians have a shelf life").

It took me a while to understand why because I'm not good at distinctions among age groups and basically just treat the teens like I do people my own age (yes,I do add some filters for appropriateness, that much I do get). I ask what they're interested in and let my enjoyment show when they tell me about it, I tell them they did good when they work hard at something, I thank them when they help out. What I think is often just as important, I give them choices, let them ask questions without criticism, and don't expect them to just do what I tell them and accept it.

Usually they have to get over an initial surprise and distrust, but they pretty quickly figure out that if I make a mistake I will admit it and apologize, explain the reason I'm doing things, and actually listen when they give feedback. And that makes a world of difference.

One thing I do with non-teens (as well as teens but it doesn't stand out to them as much) is thank them and tell them I'm proud of them when they take care of themselves. We're all so used to being expected to run ourselves ragged and when we finally say we need a break having it grudgingly accepted. But when a friend says they can't come to a thing because they are out of people points I reply with "thank you for taking care of yourself". When a coworker says they can't help with a project I thank them for knowing their limits. When a friend says they just watched TV all day because they didn't have the motivation to do anything else I say I'm proud of them for letting themselves rest.

It is so simple to encourage people to really take care of themselves, but you have to be aware. All anyone really wants is acceptance and appreciation, and it costs nothing for us to give that to them.

consider: teenagers aren’t apathetic about everything they’re just used to you shitting all over whatever they show excitement about

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I know that some people in the Wings of Fire fandom complain about how Tui based the IceWings on tiger moms (a stereotype commonly applied to East Asian mothers) and I know that that and the model minority stereotype for Asian-Americans that is common in American media is terribly containing and reduces an entire community to this monolith of mean parents and unhappy, but high-performing children, but I personally like how IceWings are based on my group, even as much as the stereotypes hurt me. You may write this off as dumb, but it's possible to feel proud of something similar to your culture being depicted while disliking how your culture is seen in the media.

When I read about the IceWing experience in canon and fanon, I feel seen. It's probably due to the fact that I've only found one or two books starring East Asian protagonists that I personally feel show the experience I've grown up in and am used to, and even overall AAPI month tends to get overlooked on the social media I use (tumblr). Now I'm just wofbrained enough to project on fictional dragons because they've been based on a stereotype that gets applied to my community. You'd think that I need to touch grass and search for more books, but I'm happy that IceWings and I have something in common.

Nowhere else do you see the portrayal of feeling both locked and contained in the identity that everyone else has imposed upon you, and so has your community, and so has your parents, and so have you imposed on yourself, but also proud of it when the concrete results come in, all the As, all the comments that you're high-performing. There's the portrayal of feeling that some aspects of that identity are something to be proud of, but there are also the darker parts that you know are bad: the bigotry (where parents say the racist things out loud, straight to your face), the constant competition, the empty feeling from complying with your parents wishes and the fact that you've been doing it for so long that you don't even know your own. There's the feeling of always being inadequate in comparison to your peers. There's the feeling of occasionally wondering what it would be like to not be part of your group, and just be happy with Bs and be able to have a social life and actually hang out with friends outside of school.

While people say that Tui made the IceWings stereotypical as hell, I like what she did with her IceWing protagonists and other characters. We see Winter, who lost his family, but can do what he wants as a scavenger researcher, which is something that feels like a realistic possibility in my community- pursuing your dreams, but losing familial support. But, he can follow his dreams. We see Crystal, who ran away to be with Gharial, a MudWing, and it's reminds me of how falling in love with someone that you community says you shouldn't have but being happy with them is possible. There's Lynx, who reminds me of the classmates that I should have competed against, but became friends with instead. There are all the Caribous, who show the more fun parts of IceWing culture outside the palace, where IceWing dragonets sing and read and listen to stories and eat together, which shows that the IceWings aren't a monolith. There's Glacier, who genuinely loved her daughters, even though she was likely distant from them as a queen, which shows how beneath the strictness, the love is there, even if it's not apparent at first. There's Snowfall, who's from the younger generation and wants to change things for the IceWings. While Tui initially wrote the IceWings based on stereotypes associated with East Asian-Americans, her IceWing characters show how they're much more than that. To me, that reminds me in a way that we student, second-gen children of East Asian immigrants are more vibrant and faceted than how media paints us (emotionless, uncreative, studious, deferent to authority, etc etc).

Now, I'm going to say that not everything that IceWings do is what Asian-Americans do. I haven't heard of anyone making their son kill the other one to regain their status. Given how people like to reblog these confessions and openly address the anons with their disagreements and this ask will probably get a bunch of accusations directed at it that weren't part of my original intention, I would like to reiterate that this ask is my personal opinion as one Asian-American out of the 19.9 million+ of them here. If you personally disagree, please direct me to all the way better forms of representation that I know are out there but can't find so I can stop projecting on fictional dragons. Someone wrote on tumblr how what's empowering to one person comes off as demeaning to the next when it comes to representation. Thank you for receiving my confession that wouldn't do well at all off anon. That is why this blog is here.

.

[matchadobo]

Hi! Can I request "you act like a brat all day and you expect me to do nothing about it?" but with the entire Kid Pirates 🥵🥵🥵

Thank you so much! I love how you write Kid 💝

KIDD, KILLER, HEAT, WIRE; brat

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

wc: 3161

dialogue: "you act like a brat all day and you expect us to do nothing about it?"

warning/s: sooo nsfw🔞 this is the filthiest thing i've ever written up to this day! 🥵, fem reader, 5some (kidd, killer, heat, wire, reader), idk if this is considered dubcon?, implied established, no plot really just p0rn, rough seggs, fingering, cunnilingus, flame/fire play?, voyeurism

note: hi anon! i hope you mean just the main gang of kidd pirates? i CANNOT for the life of me construct a smut with an entire pirate group omg 😳, this is my first time creating smut for more than three people i hope i did it justice >__<

if there's one thing that pushes kidd to his limits, especially when it comes to you, it's his jealousy. it's not that he's not secured enough about your loyalty with him, it's the way you act like nothing is going on between the both of you. frankly, the five of you.

killer, heat, and wire were no strangers to this feeling either. they felt indignant as you sat with a couple of dudes, blatantly mingling and flirting with them. although there was nothing further than a friendly interaction with the foreign batch of men in the pub, laughing at their jokes and brushing arms and hands with them from time to time pissed off your crewmates. most of all kidd, who's gone down way more than a couple of barrels of rum for someone who says he'll just have a drink.

"oi, slow down, captain. thought we'll resupply today." heat nudged kidd, a dry laugh as he looked at his unfazed friend. his eyes boring holes through you.

"bout that, think we have to postpone that. let's stay in 'ere for another day for tomorrow." he finally placed the mug down, wiping off the remnants of liquid on his lips with the back of his palm.

"postpone? have we got other plans?" killer asked, turning to kidd who turned stood up and padded off his pants.

"her." wire immediately caught up, following after kidd who walked undeterred towards your table. they were from the bar and you were sat on some table across somewhere. they think it's almost intentional at this point that they have a full view of this. if you're trying to rile them up, you've suceeded.

though you're not sure if it ends good for you, with the way each of them are glaring at you when they stood before your table. their eyes raising goosebumps on your skin making your throat run dry.

"we got any problems, gentlemen?" the foreign men around you initiated, referring to kidd and his men looming over you.

"they're my crewmates." you introduced with distinterest, pissed that they're gonna ruin a moment for you because you know what those looks mean. "you know what? i think i should get going, thanks for the drinks." you smiled and bid goodbye to them, expression faltering as you met kidd's eyes.

"hey," one of them had a hold of your arm and kidd and the others almost whipped out their weapons to slash that guy's arm because of his motherfucking audacity. "you sure you're all good?"

you nodded with a smile, a pained one now that it got cut short. you later asked kidd and the others to come with you outside.

"what is it? do we have to go now?" you crossed your arms, sighing and looking at each of these hulking men.

"still don't get it do you?" kidd shifted in his foot, chuckling soullessly.

"guess we oughta remind it to 'er again, captain." wire butted in, putting an arm around you. you glared at him as you looked up, face contorted as you knitted your eyebrows in cofusion.

"what? guys? am i missing somethi- hey! kidd! put me down!" kidd swept you off your feet, he carried you on his shoulder like you weigh nothing. you drummed on his back while muttering out curses on his way back to the ship.

there was always this tension around the five of you, particularly on your end and it's towards theirs. it's begging to be addressed. it's so precarious and it stifles you to your very core. so much so that the mere sight of them looming around you right now drives you nuts and the fear shudders down your thighs. you're wet as hell.

he placed you down the couch on his room, wire sat on one side while heat on the other. killer stood not far from where you were, leaning his bum on the furniture with his arms crossed on kidd's dresser beside the couch; keen on observing. while kidd paced before you in a slow manner, he did it in a way that instigated fear in you for what might be in store for you.

"strip."

it was an order. eyes right at you as he stopped to face you with his arms crossed. kidd's gaze was dark amidsts his bright yellow irises, it was demeaning and you felt your chest tighten.

"what? kidd, what the hell?"

"you heard him, name." killer spoke and it somewhat made the air thicker because he's usually quiet. when it came out of him, it feels more stern that the acid in your stomach starts crawling up your throat. "you've been a brat all day and you expect us to do nothing about it?"

killer's blue eyes felt deadly behind his mask. despite being covered, you can feel the holes boring through you as he kept his voice in the same tone yet with a foreboding volume.

but shit. you wanted to have some fun and meet new people, and if things work see how things will go from there. but you didn't realize that it'd be a problem with them. after all, no strings attached right? but it's attention you really wanted and they couldn't give it to you because they were too into their guy shit. so you got annoyed at them and opted to find some other people to satisfy your needs. apparently they're too busy talking about how one metal differs from the other to spare you some sort of affection.

"y'all weren't even batting me an eye, for fuck's sake." you crossed your arms, gazing to the window with crashing waves. avoiding eye contact at all costs, but you know damn well they had all their eyes on you. "didn't think the lot of you would care if i mess around a little bit. and now you're asking me to fuck you guys? hah."

"so you missed us, that it?" kidd raised a brow, grinning at the realization that you wanted them again.

"aaaw, that stings, name. you're cruel." heat mumbled, his inked hands precarious on your thigh. "think you can be a doll and make it up to us?"

heat and killer were always the sweet ones, wire and kidd are the most vicious; during sex and well, your relationship. the former would always be some sort of your best friend and would be kind enough to think about you than their own pleasures during sex. but the latter will always be on their mission to fuck you up in the most demeaning way possible, they're never fucking kind. they always teased and fucked with you, be a little shit around you and annoy you in the worst ways possible. and during sex, their benevolence isn't to be expected. they'd always finish with you in the filthiest way possible that you wouldn't even remember your name right.

which explains why wire was the first to catch your lips and bury his tongue down your throat. he initally had his arm around you but when you wouldn't stop bitching about them letting you go, he'd had enough and ought to just shut you up in the best way he thinks he can. you squrimed under his lips, eyes shut tight. he held your wrist with one hand while the other settled in pushing the back of your neck to his. you pulled away by force, staring up at him as he donned a pompous smirk and eager eyes.

"oh? what's wrong, name? thought you wanted attention?"

"fuck off, wire. fucking get off."

"and hey, for the third time, you heard the captain. otherwise we'd rip off your favorite dress."

you rolled your eyes with a deep blush on your cheeks. whatever, this'll be quick. you struggled to reach behind you the zipper that goes way down the bottom of your spine. heat chuckled, placing his hand over yours so he could take over. he gave your shoulder a dry peck before helping you out of your dress.

killer took matters into his own hands and sauntered towards you, holding your jaw with one arm as he discarded his helmet with the other. he ran his thumb across your cheek, smiling as he looked into your eyes down to your naked frame. like a kitten, you nuzzled your face deep on his calloused palms. he unzipped his pants while keeping his grip on you, he soon held of one of your hands and guide it down his groin where his painfully hard boner is begging to be released.

"handle it for me, yeah?" he rubbed circles on your cheekbones, soon brushing your hair out of your face as he combed through your locks. "i'll let it slide this time if you do well, dove."

and it shocked you to your very core when killer was quick to push himself so far down your throat when you had just put his length in your mouth. your tears fell as his head touched the back of your throat forcefully. you had to grab a hold of his hips, nails digging by the sides of his pelvis. you whined with your mouth full, he was too kind to pull away and give you a break.

you panted, drool and bubbles on your mouth dripping as it coated your chin. killer grimaced, rubbed his length on your cheeks and teased his head on your numbing lips.

"'s wrong? can't fuckin' take killer when he's not bein' nice?!" kidd grinned behind him, wrapping his hand around your throat to spit in your mouth. "you know damn well you're not gettin' off this easy. now, suck it." kidd fisted your hair, letting killer fuck your mouth the way he pleases with kidd in control.

heat and wire were palming themselves in their pants, the feel of your bare body next to them is enough to render their cocks hard. they yearned to touch you, explore your body and pleasure you the way you're pleasuring killer.

there was a good while where killer's grunts and the gurgles and gags of your throat filled the room. you were crying not from pain but from the blond's intense pace. you had never seen him this eager and rough, maybe you really did piss him off that's why he had to take it out on you. but soon enough, killer came down your throat, taking a long while to keep his cock inside you while you drink up every bit of his release.

your chest heaved as you sat on the couch, head hanging loosely from the backrest. dizzy as you try and recover from a mouthful of killer's load.

you turned to wire who touched you a little to precariously down to your soaked panties. you hear a lowly chuckle vibrate from his chest, amused at your state. he palmed you through your panties, while the other had wrapped around your throat. you placed a hand over his arm, as if begging to give you a break and recover. but he just grinned and his fingers became faster. the grip around your throat became tighter.

heat was just reveling in the feel of your skin and rubbed circles back and forth close to your inner thigh. he placed your thigh above his so you can open up more for the brunette.

kidd got behind you, pressing your cheek to his crotch, his head peeking out of his underwear. you looked up at him with glassy eyes, but of course he wouldn't care. you fucked up that bad.

killer was still at high from earlier, but he stroked his cock at the sight of his friends fucking you up. it got him off as you try and take all of kidd in behind you while quirming as wire got his fingers buried deep in you.

"so overstimulated already and we haven't even gotten to the best part?" wire taunted you as he stared down at your half-lidded eyes, his thumb teasing your clit.

they all laughed a little when you tried your best to curse out a muffled 'fuck you' as you struggled with kidd abusing your mouth. the redhead had a hand around your throat to keep your head bent backwards, cum spilling down your cheeks mixed with the tears in your eyes from gagging to much. he really doesn't know when to stop, this man.

and when kidd was finally done with you, killer held your head delicately on his toned stomach, supporting it as you fell weak. he fetched a towel and wiped off the filth on your face, placing a kiss down your ear afterward.

but wire wasn't done with you yet, he was so keen on curling his long fingers in you that you continue to lose all sense with your eyes rolling at the back of your head. "f-fuck, wire. please..!" you whined, gripping his arm and trying to stop him. but really it felt good.

"please what? let you cum? go faster? stop? what is it, angel?" he raised a brow, cunning as he acted coy. and you honestly didn't know what to answer, so you just threw your head back and scratched at his arm so hard it left a scar.

"ah you're way too mean to name, wire. come on, i still haven't gotten my turn yet." heat jumped in, stroking your hair as he brushed the hairs sticking on your forehead out of your face.

"well, you heard him, name. what do you say we finish up, hm?" his pace went so fast you thought you were going to die, you felt your saliva caught in your throat and you couldn't mumble your words right. it was all slurring from here on out.

but your throbbing cunt wasn't even spared by heat, who was starving the moment he helped you out of your clothes. your thighs rested on his shoulder while kidd took the mint-haired's former place beside you, snaking an arm around your waist as he played with your tits from behind while his mechanical arm had a firm grip around your throat.

kidd always had a penchant in choking you, along with the filthy little praises he's whispering at you. he adored how you looked at him with so much indignance, almost wanting to kill him but you can't. cuz what he's doing feels good. the constriction around your throat as he degrades you and tells you how much of a little whore you are.

"seems you're enjoyin' your punishment a little too much, huh? matter of fact this ain't even punishin', aye? it feels so good being treated like the slut you are, doesn't it?" he growled in your ear, his guttural whispers sends shivers down your spine and it doesn't help that heat's way too busy devouring you down there.

by this time, you were feeling so drunk and you're incapable of any sound other than sinful slurs and moans. you whined against kidd's frame, crying as he peppered your face with his crimson-stained lips.

heat had this habit to use 10% of his firepower to warm up his mouth for you, it tickles and it feels amazing. he first teased a tiny bit of flame between your chest, his lips precarious on your skin, so close yet he doesn't touch it. he took a peak at you through his dark eyes, his pants growing tight as he saw you squirming at his actions, looking down at him with begging eyes.

he trailed his flames down your belly button, tickling a giggle out of you as your stomach heaved. soon and it reached your cunt, which was gaping and clenching at the eagerness of heat's stimulation. he wasted no time sucking you up, interspersing his warmth in your soaking folds. it was ecstatic and you didn't know what to do with yourself.

you couldn't even reach down to fist his mint locks because kidd and wire had you restrained. all you could do was drool from moaning too much, the overstimulation driving you nuts.

you grunted, writhing in pain and pleasure as that same warmth pooled in your stomach once more. you had lost track of the number of times you came. it was starting to feel numb and you had lost all sanity to even think about how filthy you look right now, sitting down the damp fabric of kidd's couch soaked with your juices.

it tickles when heat eats you out, so you were wriggling in your seat as he refused to breathe out and continued suffocating himself with your cunt. you mumbled curses and insults, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you choked out a moan when you finally came. your thighs shook and you panted like hell. heat gave you one last kiss on your inner thigh before wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

kidd carried your limp body towards his bed, you hadn't notice he was completely naked now if not for his cock poking your back when he carried you bridal style. you were so clearly out of it, eyes half lidded and hazy.

"oi, oi." kidd had a grip on your jaw, kissing your nose afterward. "think you can do more than have a couple of orgasms, aye? come on, that all you got? let's enjoy ourselves, hm?" kidd really does his best rile you up in any fucking situation and it irritated you.

"fuck, this really is a punishment." you covered your face, still blushing from the previous encounters. "will you go easy on me, kidd?" you peeked between your fingers but he just laughed at you.

instead, he flipped your frame the other way where your ass is facing him and you were facing the guys. his favorite position always. you were on your fours, he bent down to whisper in your ear. "never." he bit on your ear before pushing your head down the bed and sliding his cock so mercilessly in you. it helped that you were so wet that he was able to push right through.

you groaned in the sheets, fisting it so hard it ripped a little. your muffled screams were soon turned into cacophonous moans that said a lot about how good you felt when he pinned your arms behind you and held your neck up from behind.

"see them? they're just as hungry for you, waiting for me to be finished with you." kidd whispered in your ear, his pace unforgiving as he continued to kept pulsing on your cervix, holding your jaw so you could take a good look at the others pleasuring themselves at the sight of you. "you see, we wouldn't have to go this rough if you had just told us you missed us. didn't have to go an extra mile and mess around with some damn nobodies, hm? so take it like a fuckin' brat that you are."

girl 😳😳😳😳 when i tell you i FLIPPED when i got the request i 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ thank you so much for the request anon! 🥰🌷 i hope you liked this :)

this was so good omfg 😩 idk why i think wire is a fucking baddie AHAHJZSGHSHS think i saw a hot fanart of him 🥺

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have open slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

While Marcy miraculously staying in LA after the events of Amphibia """misses the point""" and """ruins the story""", my most self indulgent side NEEDS to see these three together in Highschool. I need Sasha being a bit of a mean girl especially to people who look at her girls weird. Yes she HAS spread people's secrets yes she HAS destroyed the self-esteem of countless boys yes she HAS gotten half the cheerleading squad kicked out while jumping through all the moral loopholes imaginable to be juuust on the side of chaotic good and not chaotic neutral. All because they said something mean about the time Marcy freaked out like a baby over a blackout, or because they mocked the food Anne brought from home. Need Anne being surprisingly popular, a big sports girly, seeing her two girls cheering for her during her games - one of them as an actual cheerleader, the other with big signs and maybe a trumpet or something. Need Marcy with her weak nerdy legs (and lingering nerve damage oops) asking Sasha for piggyback rides on the way home, discussing anime and FPS videogames with her while Anne carries her backpack, phone in her free hand, waiting for those two to be distracted so she can snap a picture.

I want them to be so uncommonly affectionate with each other in school, that everyone finds them kinda weird but their families have given very explicit Do Not Separate orders so the teachers let them be. They've been through a lot. Doesn't stop the cheerleading squad laughing at Sasha and questioning how come she'd rather hang out with her two kindergarden friends - one being cringe and nerdy and the other being dumber than a bag of rocks - instead of dating any of the cute boys that always ask her out, or how come she always cancels plans on them as soon as one of her girls calls. Sasha will make sure to teach them not to question her in the future.

The teachers quickly realize Marcy's potential but also notice she only hangs out with two girls who are pretty lazy and are barely passing their classes, and they wonder if they're using her to get good grades. Those two do seem to fit the stereotype of the jock and the mean girl taking a nerd under their wing to make them do their homework. Marcy does help them study, but she doesn't lose sleep over it - she knows they're smart and they'll figure it out, she's just there for a little encouragement. They just haven't seen the care and concern with which they hold her when her chest starts burning all of a sudden, how they race after her to the bathroom whenever she's feeling unwell, how protectively they cuddle her at sleepovers.

Anne has her own group of jock friends separate from Marcy and Sasha, and they get along fine, but they're beginning to think it's odd that she turns down every boy that asks her out, while lighting up like a flower in the sun whenever she gets a call from one of her girls. They ask her about it at one point, and all she says is "I don't really think I want a boyfriend. These two already take enough of my time", with a fond smile and a tender tone of voice that might make you think there's more to it if you had any idea of the concept of consensual non-monogamy, or lesbians. But you're a teenage boy so what you think is more along the lines of "wow they seem like very good friends".