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bucketbueckers · 1 month ago

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I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER TWO

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.6k notes: check masterlist for content warnings! honestly a pretty lowkey chap but it's strictly business 🧐 thank you for the love on chapter 1 🫶 i fear this chap and the next couple of parts are slow-ish but i've reread this literally a million times and im sick of it so what do i actually know. no beta we die like brian thompson

'Bueckers and Kennedy, Two Dynasties, Both Alike in Dignity'

College basketball fans are excited for what appears to be the end of the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." After a quiet few days, the South Carolinian guard took to social media where she shared a photo of her and a faceless individual meeting for coffee. The Instagram story was captioned "and a new day will bring about the dawn," a lyric from Frank Ocean's "Sierra Leone." Supporters interpreted this as Kennedy's recovery journey taking a positive turn, but the song lyric was not the star of the show.

Fans were quick to point out the identity of the individual was not as hidden as it seemed. Kennedy's companion was wearing two notable necklaces - one with a silver cross and one with a studded #5. The phone case in camera was also purple with a wallet attached to the back. One commenter pointed out there was a University of Connecticut student ID poking out, and after review, we believe that much is true.

Early speculation declared Kennedy's friend was none other than Paige Bueckers, the star point guard for the University of Connecticut Huskies. Then, roughly an hour after Kennedy's post, Bueckers herself took to her Instagram where she shared a photo of her holding an icepack to someone's left knee. Both Bueckers and the mystery individual are faceless; however, fans noted Bueckers's companion was wearing a silver bracelet with familiar charms and a #25, Kennedy's jersey number.

All of the signs point to Bueckers and Kennedy spending time together, although nothing has been confirmed officially. One fan noted that Bueckers tore her own ACL the year prior, believing that Bueckers flew out to South Carolina to lend a supportive hand to Kennedy amidst her own recovery and hardships. Whether or not this is simply two friends rehabbing together or the most obvious soft launch in basketball history, sports fans are united on two things: Tess Kennedy is beginning to take her recovery seriously, and Paige Bueckers might just be the guardian angel people were calling for.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“So, lemme get this straight.”

Tess hums around a mouthful of Chipotle, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Kamilla and Bree returned to their apartment roughly a half hour earlier and immediately put Tess on the hot seat. Once she made it through her countless apologies and explanations with minimal interruptions, she gave Kam and Bree the green light to ask their questions, and it seemed as though they had plenty.

Kam raises her fingers as she lists off the recent happenings of Tess’s life. “Because you went off a bender–” Tess frowns at the way it’s phrased, “–Amaya is forcing you into mandatory PT, therapy, and a shit ton of PR. Honestly, about fucking time.” Bree snorts, although some of the worry leaves her body. “If all it took was tough love, I woulda been meaner to your ass a month ago.”

“Don’t think it would have had the intended effect,” Tess concedes thoughtfully. She pushes around her rice and chicken, shoveling a pepper in her mouth. “I wasn’t really in a listening mood back then.”

Bree raises a brow. “And you were today?”

The injured guard shrugs a shoulder. “Well, when your manager tells you that your brand deals are about to cut their contracts, and you’re at risk for losing your basketball scholarship for behavior and academic reasons, and you’re slowly killing yourself…that kind of puts things into perspective.”

Kamilla nods solemnly. “And the Paige situation.”

Tess almost flushes under their scrutinizing gaze. She hasn’t forgotten. She has Paige’s receipt tucked into the pocket of her pants, unwilling to throw it away but also feeling weirdly vulnerable for wanting to keep it. It wasn’t a huge gesture by any means. Paige doing PT with her was objectively more intimate than buying her lunch, but the mere idea of Paige saying goodbye to her and sitting in an Uber trying to figure out what Tess likes in her Chipotle bowl is just fucking insane. “Guess I’m not single anymore…so, yay?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kamilla admits hesitantly. Tess clocks the concern in her expression, like she’s thinking about her next step if she wakes up tomorrow and Tess is back to her old ways. That thought alone makes guilt squeeze at Tess’s heart.

Tess sighs. “It was like a wake up call,” she says after a moment. “Like those stupid ice baths Coach makes us do in recovery.” Kamilla and Bree crack a small smile at the joke. “To me, it was just easier to self-destruct than to let something else kill me. Basketball’s more than a sport to me – it’s my purpose, right? So after I heard I might not be able to play again, I just…let myself sink. And, Christ, people were so cruel online.” Tess huffs out something like a laugh, her throat tight with pain. “It’s funny ‘cause it never bothered me before, but… I just wanted to forget. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt. It was too easy to give into that.” The silence rings out in the living room as Tess searches for her next words. “I don’t think all hope is lost. Today helped me understand that a little better. So, I’m gonna try. I’m just fucking terrified it’s all going to be for nothing, that my knee’s never going to get better and I’m going to put myself through so much pain for a what if.”

“Okay, what if you never play again, but, God, Tess, what if you do?” Kamilla says slowly. “What if you do everything right and you get better and you can play with us again in March? I want that for you. We want that for you. Do you want that for you?”

“I mean, of course–”

“Then do it!” Kamilla exclaims, voice cracking. Tess blinks at her owlishly. She’s never seen Kamilla like this, ever, wide-eyed and desperate. It’s a near 180 shift from the girl she’s spent the last 30 minutes talking to, a complete and total shift from the girl who she’s shared an apartment with for two years. “Please, Tess. Do the PT, your therapy, get back on track; whatever it fucking takes, Tess, you need to do it. We miss you. On and off the court. I know it’s not about me, but watching you throw yourself away like that was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed, especially because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through to you. I thought I was going to lose my best friend!”

Tess’s jaw falls open as the sudden realization of how badly she’s fucked up dawns on her for the second time that day. “Kam,” she tries, her throat tightening with emotion. The taller woman wipes her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. Kamilla was never one to be mean, no matter how upset she was – that was a trait of hers that made her such a good leader and role model on the court. She was big on accountability and ensuring that past mistakes would never happen again. Seeing all of the emotion she kept under tight lock and key because she knew she needed to be strong for Tess (even before Tess was aware that she needed someone to be strong for her) is unbelievably sobering.

When Tess and Kamilla first met, they almost instantly knew they would be each other’s best friend. They were alike in so many ways – they were fierce competitors and proud haters of The Office; they bonded over shared struggles of not quite knowing what home was and being just a little too different from everyone else. Tess isn’t sure where she would be without Kamilla. She always prayed she’d never have to find out, but the idea that she nearly subjected Kamilla to finding out where she’d be without Tess feels both arduous and damning.

“Kam,” Tess says again, her mind reeling. “I’m so sorry – I’m so fucking sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’m trying. It’s so hard but I’m trying.”

“I know,” Kamilla says, nodding rapidly. Bree is unnaturally quiet, glancing between the two of them with a conflicted expression. Sure, the three of them shared an apartment, but the bond between Tess and Kamilla exceeded friendship; they were like sisters. Bree knew that and it never bothered her. Now it seems as though she’s unsure where to stand, but she understands that this is a much-needed conversation that Tess and Kamilla need to have. “I know, Tess, I’m just – I’m glad you understand it now. Just… please, please let us help you. Don’t shut us out.”

“I won’t,” Tess vows. “I can’t promise I’m going to be at 100%, but fuck, I’m going to try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kamilla concedes.

The living room is quiet for a long while until Bree shifts uncomfortably. “So… PT and mental health counseling, those I understand,” she says. “I’m still a little lost on why fake dating Paige is good for your reputation. Rumors are rumors but…it’s giving new flavor of the week.”

“It’s not like that,” Tess argues, a little too defensively. Bree raises a brow and Tess immediately flushes. She’s not sure why that jab at Paige felt personal. She made a similar jab only a few hours ago. But it wasn’t her business to judge. People have their own reasons to do what they do, right? “Well, she said it wasn’t like that,” she amends, which sounds objectively worse. Tess frowns, wishing she’d just kept quiet.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Bree raises her hand in surrender. “It’s her vice, right? Her free time is her own, but I mean, she’s Paige Bueckers. It’s easy to get caught up in her. I just don’t want you becoming another notch on her bedpost, even if you’re just fake dating her to make people forget you’re on Twitter restriction.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “My account is unbanned now, thank you very much,” she deflects, but Kamilla’s knowing expression has her redirecting. “I understand what you guys mean, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re strictly business.” Bree grins wryly, huffing out something akin to laughter that sounds vaguely like, ‘that’s what they all say.’

“Was the Chipotle strictly business?” Bree asks.

Tess’s face is a perfect picture of confusion, but her heart thrums a little faster at the insinuation. What could she possibly know about that? “What does Chipotle have to do with anything?” she asks casually.

Bree’s smirk widens. “You never order bowls. It’s always a burrito with you.”

“I’m trying something new!”

“Yeah, new like a six-foot blonde hooper–”

Kamilla and Bree break out into howling laughter as Tess buries her head in her hands, blushing again. “Oh, my God. You guys are the fucking worst.”

And, sure – the joke is at Tess’s expense, but she can’t help but feel like everything is aligning once more, that they’re returning to the way they once were pre-injury. She expected that it would have taken her a lot more groveling to earn back their favor. Tess was a huge jerk to them – the more she thinks about what she’d likely said to them under the haze of several shots of tequila, the more she wishes she could take it all back and do it over again. She tore her ACL, a season ending injury for many athletes, and for a smaller few, it changed the course of their careers drastically. Tess wants to find it within herself to have some grace, to understand why she behaved the way she did, but now that she sees it with a clearer mind, she can’t help but be disgusted by herself.

For Kamilla and Bree, it’s probably all water under the bridge. They’re kind people like that, perhaps too kind after the way Tess treated them. Maybe the real gotcha! moment is the idea that Tess didn’t need to earn back their favor, anyhow. Sometimes friendship just works like that – it’s confusing and a great risk, but most times that risk pays off. Sometimes friendship just is, accepting a mistake and trusting that it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, Tess retires to her room for some much needed rest after a long day. She lights a candle, settling against her headboard and adjusting the pillow cushioning her knee. Deciding to face the music sooner rather than later, she begins combing through her mountain of notifications and unread DMs. The apology from Caitlin is touching. Tess feels an odd mix of guilt and appreciation as she drafts out her overdue response: “thank you for checking in, been a rough couple weeks. the injury is not your fault but trust that SC will pick your pockets next year!!!” Caitlin’s own response is swift – a simple 'Bring it on' that Tess can’t help but smile at.

She sends similar responses to some of Caitlin’s teammates and the other college players who reached out. She even had a couple of pros expressing their condolences, which honestly shocked Tess. There was Napheesa Collier, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson – A’ja’s DM made Tess’s Gamecock heart beat just a little faster. She was basically South Carolina royalty. Having that kind of support in her corner fills her with an insurmountable confidence.

Her last post on Instagram was a collection of pictures following their Elite Eight win. The sight of herself from a month ago, healthy and glowing, nearly made her thumb falter as she flicked through the images. It was a simple dump – a couple of action shots, a fierce one of Tess celebrating, one of her setting up for a deep three. It was captioned “nowhere else i’d rather be.” That much was still true. She’s pushed it to the recesses of her mind, but instinctually, she can feel the deep ache and the yearn to get back on the court, even though her knee hardly lets her sleep through the night most of the time.

Her eyes fall to the comments. She knows she shouldn’t look at them. She’s practically memorized each and every single one of them. Her teammates’ comments live at the top, celebrating the win with her; under them, there are newer ones from South Carolina fans, offering prayers and support, confident in their belief that Tess will bounce back from this. She can’t help herself from reading the hate comments, either. Her eyes catch on one in particular. Their username isn’t particularly memorable, but it reads, ‘Upsetting to see how Tess has responded to a normal injury for athletes. It’s shameful that South Carolina has let this go on for so long. Grow up!’

Well, he’s not wrong. Tess’s response was a pretty terrible one and Amaya herself admitted that they made a mistake in handling the situation. Frankly, he should be proud that Tess has grown up! If she read that comment a week ago, she probably would have crashed out. The thought alone makes Tess crack the slightest of smiles. Before she can keep reading, a text message from an unknown number pops up at the top of her screen, inadvertently saving her from a doom scroll.

Yo How’d I do on lunch? It’s Paige btw

Tess fights the warmth she feels in her chest. Honestly, she would have guessed that it was Paige from the ego she can identify through the screen alone, but she saves her contact regardless.

i’m afraid to admit i prefer burritos but the bowl was a 9/10

Paige’s response is swift.

9 cause I’m the 1 you need?

Tess rolls her eyes.

9 bc there was too much pico and bc the girl who ordered it flirts like a 12 year old

That’s insane You KNOW I have better game than that

you have no rizz, just blue eyes and a bunch of nil money like joe burrow if he was a hey mamas lesbian

Gonna ignore that hey mamas comment just cause I fuck with Joe Burrow The Bengals don’t have nothing on my Vikings though

i think i just got the ick im not gonna lie

Are you a football hater???

i don’t watch men’s sports at all i try to protect my peace

Pause So no Lebron???

ok well obviously i’ve watched the NBA

You scared me Don’t say that shit again

why are you so high maintenance

Why are you so mean

someone has to keep you in check settling down, remember?

I think you could be a little nicer!

hmmm i’ll consider ok i decided no

Just plain evil

i need to get my kicks in early if im stuck with you again on friday

You invited me???

i don’t think that’s how that happened

Pretty sure that’s exactly how that happened Paige please come to PT with me 🥺 Please Paige

ok now you’re just being delusional i see how you’re forgetting the whole ‘tess let me buy your coffee 🥺please tess’

Chilllll Did your doctor check you for a concussion after the ACL?? There’s something wrong with your brain

be honest, are you a natural blonde or did you work really hard to be this stupid

Hard work always baby Also, wanted to ask if you wanna come to the airport with me on Saturday, be seen together I fly out at 11:30am so I think it would be good for us The story I mean

you gonna pay for my uber back?

Duh

paige i was kidding

I wasn’t No rizz, just blue eyes and a lot of NIL money, right?

you’re insufferable

So you’ll come?

don’t sound so excited but i will for the story

Of course See you Friday ma 🫶

Tess likes Paige’s message before shutting her phone off with a sigh. She needs a nap.

MAY 5, 2023

Friday arrives after a day and a half of binging 2 Broke Girls, independent physical therapy exercises, and lots of ice packs.

Tess slept like shit Thursday night, though she’s unsure if it’s because of the pain in her knee or because of how badly she wanted to haul her ass to the bar and order a couple of shots to numb the throb. She knew she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she thought she needed it – it was bad enough that she spent half of the night sweating through her shirt and chewing on ice cubes to distract herself from the slow downward spiral of her thoughts. Not addicted, she’d remind herself, nursing a cup with rapidly melting ice as she watched Max and Caroline put themselves in weird ass situations. Psychologically, no. Physically…who knows. Tess certainly doesn’t know what that means, but she’s not addicted, period.

Her first therapy appointment was scheduled for Monday afternoon. She just had to hold out until then. Tess hopes that she would glean something useful from her counselor, but she’s been self aware and independent enough for years that she’s usually good at identifying her problems, though slightly less efficient at figuring out what to do about them. Her typical coping methods included a casual mantra of, ‘Pitbull’s been there, done that,’ and running a couple of drills in the quiet of the gym. And, sure – it sounds weird, but the idea that she’s not the only person facing an issue is comforting enough that she wonders if it’s even that deep. It works most of the time and she’s able to shrug it off. She will admit there’s an eventual crash out one way or the other, but she prefers one big explosion over a series of small, ill-timed ones.

With nothing but time on Thursday night, her Google search history consisted of queries such as how long does it take to establish alcohol dependence and symptoms of alcohol withdrawals. Then, around 3am, she got distracted and switched over to TikTok where she scrolled through edits of herself, but that’s less important. She learned that establishing alcohol dependence usually varies from person to person (Tess hates when something ‘depends;’ why can’t there ever be a straight answer?). It’s less clear if she’s officially ‘addicted,’ but she will concede that after a month of heavy drinking, there’s a little something there. Which isn’t ideal, of course, but hopefully it’s mild at the least. It was only a month and people intervened early…ish – maybe if she sticks to recovery then she should be good and clear within a couple weeks at the most.

Google also informed her of the several symptoms of withdrawals, which usually set in anywhere from six to twenty-four hours after going cold-turkey on the drinks. The withdrawals explained, obviously, the need to ransack the liquor store, but also the restlessness, the slight headache she was nursing for the past twenty-four hours, and the perpetual stomach ache she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She had some answers. So, things were looking up!

…At least they were until she got the call from Amaya at 9:30 as she was struggling to eat a bagel. Google also mentioned a loss of appetite, which Tess was less than happy about. Much like everything else about her recovery, she would have to force herself into doing a lot of things that her body didn’t want her to do. She’d get used to it. She lets her phone ring for a short moment before she sighs, accepting the call and putting it on speaker, greeting Amaya.

“Good morning, Tess!” Amaya chirps, unusually chipper. The basketball player immediately frowns, brows furrowing.

“You get laid?” she asks, unsure of what else Amaya could be happy about in her life.

She can almost hear Amaya’s eye roll from across the line. “No, not that it’s any of your business, though.”

“Boo.”

“Anyways, back to business.” Amaya clears her throat. Tess can hear the slight shuffle of papers. “So, I really liked what you and Paige did, soft-launch wise. The press is eating it up and so far, both of your brand deals are seeing a slight surge in activity. I’m guessing people are flocking to your accounts for raunchy details and seeing you advertise, um, really cool make up products and homework help.” Tess huffs out a laugh at that. “Good job. Also, Craig let me know you showed up to PT as scheduled on Wednesday and did really well. He said you and Paige worked really well together–”

“Stop,” Tess says, listening to the sound of Amaya’s smug laugh. “Don’t insinuate anything.”

“I’m not insinuating anything!” Amaya says defensively and Tess cracks a smile. “So, we just need you and Paige to keep up what you’re doing. Do the small things for a couple of weeks, then hard-launch. We’re going to give you guys most of the control over that. We want it to seem more authentic and less like two PR agencies trying to salvage their clients’ images.”

“Of course,” Tess says innocently. “She’s coming to PT today. Then I’m going with her to the airport tomorrow.”

Amaya sighs dreamily. “You’re such a wonder to work with when you’re being cooperative.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tess grumbles, giving up on the bagel and tossing it in the trash.

“Alright, one more thing,” Amaya continues, “then I’ll let you go.” Tess hums. “I need you to draft an apology to post on your socials – and I know, it sounds corny, but–”

“You don’t need to explain why,” Tess interrupts softly. “I got it. I fucked up and I made a huge mess. I’ll email that to you Saturday night.”

Amaya is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Thank you, Tess. And, hey, how are you feeling?”

Tess doesn’t answer for a beat, considering keeping her thoughts to herself, but she reminds her promise to Kamilla to not shut anyone out, so she sighs. “Um, not gonna lie, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she admits. “My knee hurt and I really wanted to drink – but I didn’t! I binge watched TV and ate ice cubes. Probably not the best thing I could have done but it was all I had to work with.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Amaya says gently. “It’s gonna be hard for a while, especially when your injury is still new and fresh and you’re all over the place mentally. I’m proud of how you handled it, even if you think you could have done better. Don’t forget you can call that counselor, okay? She’s available at all hours for you.”

“I don’t wanna be a bother–”

“It’s her job,” Amaya states, before adding in a more mother-hen tone, “but she also requested to work with you specifically because this issue is close to her and she really wants to help you. So if you need help, call her. Got it?”

Tess blinks back the impending tears. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Listen, I’m proud of you, I mean it,” Amaya reiterates. “Thank you for being patient and doing this. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tess says again. “Talk to you soon.”

Amaya hangs up with one final goodbye. Tess presses her head to the cool counter tile and takes a deep breath. She hardly has the time to think before a knock sounds at the apartment door. Already knowing it was Paige, Tess wipes her eyes and slips her crutches under her arms as she slinks towards the door and opens it.

“Mornin!’” Paige greets, far too cheery for barely ten in the morning. She’s holding two cups of coffee in her hands. When Tess glances down, she easily recognizes her coffee order. Then, a frown covers Paige’s face as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “You good, ma?”

“Just a tough conversation with Amaya,” Tess says as Paige hands her the drink. She takes a long sip, feeling a little more regulated. “Too many feelings.”

Paige smirks at her. “I’m guessin’ she said the same shit my manager called for? ‘Keep up the good work and keep doing couple-y stuff?’”

Tess hums. “More or less. Oh, I also get to publicly apologize, so there’s that.”

The blonde raises a brow as Tess hands back the coffee cup so she can slip into her shoes. “You? Apologize?”

Tess swats her with her crutch, drawing laughter from Paige. “You’re such a jerk. I apologized to you on Wednesday!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you called me a whore,” Paige says with a dramatic pout. “Really hurt my women-respecting feelings.”

“Please walk me to PT and stop talking.”

And Paige does just that. She holds onto both of their coffees as they walk as Tess’s hands are otherwise preoccupied with her crutches. The silence doesn’t last too long before Paige is rambling about all of the questioning she’s getting from her teammates, and Tess can’t help but listen – correction, she has no other choice but to. Paige admits that she doesn’t like keeping secrets from her team, and Tess feels sympathetic enough that she gives Paige the go-ahead to confess their little ruse. Paige’s denial, however, is shockingly mature. “I trust them not to say sum’ maliciously, right? But you never know who’s listening.”

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “If you change your mind, go for it, okay?” she says. “This is our punishment. Don’t wanna fuck up your friendships.”

“S’all good,” Paige says. “Actually, they’re pretty happy about it. Aubrey thinks I’ll play better next season since I ‘got a girl.’”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, you’ll play better until March, then I’ll get cleared to be back on the court and I’ll drop 25 on you.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “No way, ma. Try 2-point-5. As in 2.5 turnovers every time I guard you.”

Their banter continues until they reach the PT’s office. Craig greets them with an infectious grin and Tess immediately brightens. He helps her take the brace off of her leg and rolls up her pant leg, poking and prodding at her injury. After just a day and a half of actual care, much of the inflammation has reduced.

Craig walks her through some guided exercises, and much to Tess’s silent appreciation, Paige joins them, too. She has a charming smile on her face the entire time, tacking on ridiculous jokes at the absolute worst moments when Tess is out of breath from the stretch and when laughing feels like gasping for air. Paige is strangely helpful. She boosts both Tess’s morale, comforting her in the fact she’s not doing this alone, but she also has a plethora of tips on how to manage the pain and get a better stretch on the exercises. Her hands are warm on Tess’s knee when she adjusts her leg and the way it bends. Craig looks on with an approving nod, though he jokes that Paige is coming for his job, to which Paige huffs, “Tess don’t listen to me.” Tess can only roll her eyes at that, pretending like she doesn’t care about the way Paige’s hands massage the tension out of her leg.

When Craig steps out to grab his wrapping supplies, Paige stretches out her legs and reaches for her phone. “For the gram?” she asks easily, glancing at Tess for permission.

“Don’t call it that,” she grumbles, but nods anyway and pulls out her own phone. “You sound like an old person.”

“You sound like an old person,” Paige mocks, effectively lowering her age by a solid ten years, and Tess rolls her eyes in amusement. She slides a little closer to Tess, reaching for her left leg and draping it over her right one gently, locking their ankles together. “Good?” Tess hums, looking over Paige’s shoulder and throwing a thumbs up into view of the camera. “You’re so unoriginal,” Paige says, but she sticks her free hand in frame and presses her middle and ring fingers to her thumb, raising her index and pinky in the Husky salute.

“That’s basically a hard launch,” Tess says, though she doesn’t really care.

“Everything we do is a hard launch,” Paige retorts. “We got Instagram detectives, remember?”

Tess mulls it over for a second before turning to Paige with a mischievous grin. “You wanna break the internet?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.”

Paige posts her picture to her story, forgoing any sort of caption, and silences her phone. She gives Tess her undivided attention as she plots. Tess pulls Paige closer into her space, hooking her chin over her right shoulder and leaning against her. Setting up her phone at the right angle, she says, “Look to your left,” and Paige does so until her piercings, half of her low bun, and the slight curve of her jaw are the only things in frame. The lights glint off of the diamond studs in her ears – Tess has to resist a smirk at how obvious the picture is, but she quickly controls her expression, her lips drawing into a natural pout as she takes the photo.

“Got it?” Paige asks, tilting her head to look at the photo. A smile covers her face as she takes it in. “Tess, you’re evil. Everyone is gonna flip.”

“My notifications are going to explode,” she says forlornly. “This is the price I pay to be mysterious and sexy.”

“Mysterious, nah,” Paige says. Her eyes linger on Tess’s face for a moment before she breaks out into a grin. “Sexy…? Hell nah.”

Indignant, Tess pushes her away, sending Paige sprawling to the floor dramatically. “Asshole! What happened to those ‘women-respecting feelings?’”

“You just pushed me to the ground!” Paige cries. “Where are your women-respecting feelings?”

Craig walks in just then, his face morphing into amused confusion as he looks between the two of them, wrapping supplies in hand. “Am I interrupting something?” he jokes.

Tess tries to keep the blush off of her cheeks. “Paige is just being mean to me,” she declares. “Poor Tess Kennedy whose left knee doesn’t even work.”

“Bro!” Paige’s tone is exasperated, and it brings a smile to Tess’s face. “You’re full of sh–” Paige cuts herself off with a cough. “...Sharks. Full of sharks.”

Craig chuckles as he examines Tess’s knee one last time before nodding and beginning to wrap it. “Same stuff, okay? Ice it when you do independent exercise, keep using your crutches, absolutely nothing strenuous.”

Tess nods, thanking Craig and heading out with Paige at her side. Even though the PT combined with her lack of sleep the night before has left her exhausted, Tess is in a significantly better mood than she started the day with. It’s likely too early into her recovery to feel any sort of earth-shattering hope, but she can’t help but feel like she’s doing it. She has yet to attend her first therapy appointment and the light at the end of the tunnel is still ten months away, but it feels like she’s making it out alive. And for now, that’s good enough for her.

MAY 6, 2023

Sleep comes easier to her Friday night. The cravings returned in full force as she was getting ready for bed, but Tess was exhausted – she took a melatonin gummy and passed out, although her knee woke her up a time or two. She felt well-rested for the first time in a couple of days. The drinking numbed her enough that she was able to sleep, but the abrupt cut-off has her body in disarray. It’s a double-edged sword. Her body craves it, but every time she thinks about a drink, she’s so disgusted at the thought that she can nearly taste the bile in her mouth. While it makes the cravings subside for a moment, they always return. She takes Tylenol in the morning to ward off the impeding headache and chugs a cup and a half of water, feeling as though she needs to flush all the bullshit out of her body.

Kamilla and Bree are up early and the three of them mill about the kitchen as they prepare a light breakfast. It was a Saturday morning tradition for them, usually consisting of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and a lengthy conversation about their weeks or anything in general. They’ve missed out on it for the past month for…obvious reasons that Tess already nurses a lot of guilt over, but she’s keen on making up for lost time. Kam and Bree put her on bacon duty as it’s the least strenuous. She portions the meat in the pan and slides it into the oven as Kam and Bree bicker over their shared stovetop space.

It’s grounding. Tess contributes where she can, enjoying the peace of the moment and laughing along with her teammates when they say something stupid. It nearly makes her forget about her knee, about the guilt she’s working through as she continues to make amends. Part of her wonders why she’d ever resorted to shutting everyone out and losing herself when all she really needed was to just let them in. She watches Kam shout in indignation as Bree jokingly flicks a bit of pepper into her pancake batter, and all Tess can think about is how could she ever hurt those girls. She remembers her promise. Tess has let too many terrible things become a habit, but she refuses to let mistreating her friends be a continued one.

They all sit to eat and the chatter only stops long enough to pass around their bottle of maple syrup and the butter. Kam and Bree ask how PT’s been going, and Tess is honest when she answers. She’s only two days into it and more often than not, it hurts – but she knows it’s for the better. She doesn’t voice the worry that she might stop taking it as seriously once Paige is back in Connecticut. Tess was only partially joking when she told Craig she had an enforcer. Paige holds her accountable in a way she’s been trying to force herself into doing, but her mind is still such a mess that it’s difficult and all she wants to do is mope in bed all day. She knows Kam and Bree wouldn’t let her live that down and she doesn’t want them to feel like she still needs a babysitter.

They tell her that they're proud of her, and Tess feels the tears well up as she tells them to shut up.

“She’s so back,” Kamilla cheers, high-fiving Bree. “Our little ball of sunshine.” Tess can only roll her eyes.

Breakfast ends and Kam and Bree ensure that they’ve got the dishes. The clock on the stove reads 10:30. Tess knows that Paige is likely on her way. She hugs them both, promising to be back once she’s seen her off, and slips into her shoes just as a knock rings out at the door.

Paige’s brows draw into a dramatic furrow once they come face to face. “Damn, you opened this door mad quick,” she says. “Tryna get rid of me that fast?”

Tess cracks a smile, shutting the door behind them with the leg of her crutch. “The sooner you’re out of South Carolina, the better.” They walk down the hallway.

Paige sighs as she punches the elevator button for the lobby. “You’ll miss me,” she says, assured. “You’re gonna miss me bringin’ you coffee, DoorDashing you Chipotle, and making sure you don’t re-tear your ACL.”

“On the contrary…I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.” Paige shoots her a dirty look and Tess can’t help but laugh.

Paige escorts her to the Uber she has waiting for them. She holds onto Tess’s crutches as she helps her into the passenger side backseat, laying her leg flat against the leather. Her foot nearly brushes the door. Confused and wondering what Paige is doing, the blonde shuts the door and rounds the side. As she settles in, she drapes Tess’s leg over her lap. “You good?”

Mouth dry, all Tess can do is nod, and Paige leans forward enough to instruct their Uber driver to head to the airport. Her palm falls flat on Tess’s shin, her thumb brushing against her leg, and with the way Paige stares out of the window, it’s almost like she doesn’t even register what she’s doing. Their ride is quiet, save for the driver's soft R&B that Paige bobs her head to. Tess slips her phone out of her pocket and snags a quick photo, flipping her phone screen to show her. Paige smiles at her wordlessly, knowing they shouldn’t verbally scheme in front of the driver, and Tess posts the photo to her story.

She refreshes her feed, combing through all of the shit she’s been tagged in from various college basketball update accounts and Instagram sleuths. She and Paige are the face of a new account named taigeupdates – which Tess is assuming is supposed to be their ship name? Given that the alternative is Pess – not that Tess has given it any thought, because she hasn’t! – she could live with it. The admin already has Tess’s story reposted and the comments are flooding in with many begging for an official hard launch since it’s already obvious.

Their driver parks in the designated drop off lane and Paige helps Tess out of the backseat, ensuring she’s stable on her crutches before she’s looping around to the trunk and pulling her carry-on and suitcase out. Tess can already feel the eyes on them, the hushed whispers of, “Is that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy?” And despite years in the spotlight, she can’t help the anxious flush that creeps up on her neck. Having so many eyes on her makes her feel vulnerable enough, but combined with the fact she has a huge brace on her leg and she’s walking around with crutches? She feels uncomfortable, like she’s a pacing animal behind bars in the zoo.

“Ready?” Paige murmurs, stepping up behind her, pressing her free hand to the palm of Tess’s back. The touch comforts her slightly, but only because she’s accustomed to Paige right now and because they’re in this together. Tess gives her a solid nod, tightening her hands around the bars of her crutches. The blonde moves her hand down to her hip to give her a reassuring squeeze before placing it at the center of her back. Paige leads them into the airport, though she leans down, her mouth close to Tess’s ear as she whispers. “We shoulda talked about this earlier, but…what’s on and off limits right now?”

Tess swallows, trying to ignore the nerves. “Just do whatever feels right,” she answers honestly. “The media knows we just spent three days together, right? Don’t overthink it. I’m your girlfriend sending you off at the airport. Make it look like that and not two strangers trying to look the part.”

Paige grins insufferably at her. “Aw, I think that’s the first time you claimed me,” she says. Tess rolls her eyes, tempted to swat her with her crutch, but decides against it. The last thing she needs is Paige tripping and fucking up her knee even more. “So…nothing's off limits?”

“You wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid,” Tess says, nudging Paige with her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she can see the phone camera pointed at them, so she swallows her pride and looks up to Paige with a grin. “I think we should hug for sure. Anything else is too soon...like I said, we've spent three days together. I don't U-Haul.”

“Fine by me,” Paige says, looking far too comfortable as she walks through the airport. “Don't wanna do nothing you're uncomfortable with. Even if it would break the Internet. I know you like that shit.” Tess shrugs, but she was pleased with the media’s reaction so far. Between the two of them, Paige was definitely the menace and chaos-monger, although Tess enjoyed setting a fire once in a while. They finally reach Paige’s terminal and she leaves Tess’s side long enough to check in at the counter.

While she’s gone, a teenage girl approaches Tess with a shy expression, phone clutched in hand. “Excuse me, are you Tess Kennedy?” she asks.

“Guilty,” Tess jokes, leaning on her healthy leg.

“Do you mind if I get a picture?”

Tess shakes her head, saying, “Not at all,” as she moves to stand next to the girl. She angles the phone and Tess throws up a peace sign, grinning, and she snaps the photo. Before either of them can say anything else, Paige is walking back from the check in counter and the girl looks like she’s about to start doing cartwheels.

“Is that–”

“Unfortunately,” Tess sighs, which makes the girl laugh and Paige narrows her eyes. Remembering where they are, Tess smiles innocently.

“Can I get another picture with the both of you?”

Paige and Tess can’t resist. Paige rarely turns down her supporters in the first place, and all Tess can think about when she’s in these situations is all the times she’s ever met her idols and how it changed her life. Being in a situation to give back to the youth like that is one of the best parts about playing basketball. They pose on either side of the teenager as she takes the photo, and after quick hugs and a lot of gratitude, Paige and Tess are left alone.

Tess checks the time, realizing that Paige is boarding soon. The overhead PA confirms as much and Paige glances at Tess once more, hiking her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder. “You gonna miss me?” she asks teasingly, and Tess taps her chin, thinking.

“Hmm,” she ponders. “Not one bit.”

“You will,” Paige says confidently. “I got motion like that.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to curb the warm fondness in her chest. She just pretends like it doesn’t exist. “Make sure you eat, alright? And go to PT. And be real with your therapist. Lemme hear you’re bein’ irresponsible and I’ll fly back down to set you straight.”

“Yes, Paige. Anything else?”

Paige shrugs, an easy smile on her face. “I know you pretend like you’ont like me, but I had fun with you. Even when you were mean.”

“Not mean,” Tess argues weakly. She can’t hide how touched she is by Paige’s words. “Just trying to keep your ego at a reasonable level.”

“Whatever you say, ma,” the blonde concedes. She opens her arms and Tess forgets all about the media, their story, whatever it is they’re supposed to be pretending to do as she wraps her arms around Paige’s waist. She could care less about the cameras, about the social media explosion they’re undoubtedly causing. Paige’s hands are warm on her back and her perfume makes Tess’s head spin. “Gimme a call if you need anything, I mean it. Don’t try to do this by yourself. Promise me.”

“Promise,” Tess vows. Paige pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes studying Tess’s face as her hands slide down her back, resting on her hips. Paige smiles at her and gives her a gentle squeeze before pulling away completely. She and Paige are both flushed, though the red creeping up Tess’s neck feels strangely like embarrassment.

“Call you when I land?” she asks quietly. Tess nods, forcing a smile, and they share their final goodbyes before Paige walks away.

Tess watches as she goes, suddenly hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd, and she holds back a sigh. She needs to get it together. None of that was real. She’s just a mess emotionally, touch-starved after a month-long crash out, and she’s letting it get to her head. She’ll feel more regulated after a nap and some stretches.

Hopefully.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb

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amazinglyegg · 2 months ago

Text

What the companions would make you if they had access to a kitchen:

Cait

I'm thinking a nice stir-fry or rice with a shit ton of vegetables and PROTEIN

Of course she loves her protein

Hmm or maybe a lasagna. Nice and dense.

Whatever she makes, there'll be enough of it to go around

She gives off food insecurity to me so I feel like she prefers to take her food and eat alone most days

But you WILL have a shitton of leftovers!

Codsworth

A nice breakfast spread like what you'd see in movies.

French toast, eggs (sunny side up or your preference if he knows it), bacon, several options of cereal in those little fancy cereal dispensers, pancakes or waffles depending on your preference, fresh fruit laid out...

And of course a glass of orange juice

He wants nothing more than for you (and anyone else you're sharing the meal with) to sit down and enjoy while he cleans the dishes and helps out

Just like old times <3

Curie

Baking time!!!!

Cookies are her go-to

Does that thing where you use your thumbprint to make a heart shape and fills it with jam

They come out perfect every time. She leaves them out on a plate and they're gone within a minute

Just be warned she might eat the cookie dough. Would definitely make edible cookie dough just to eat it raw at like 1am

Danse

He's a protein shake and plain hard boiled eggs type of guy

He wouldn't make you a meal, but would mealprep your entire week for you

(It's just plastic tupperware of boiled eggs and like, one whole carrot)

If he HAD to make an actual warm meal it'd probably look exactly like Brotherhood rations

Mashed potatos, plain crackers, and some vague meat in sauce

Deacon

This man lives like he will be killed via sniper if he ever expresses a genuine feeling

So as much as I'd like to say he'd make a meal that's really important to him, he'd probably just grab the nearest cookbook and pick a random recipe

Not even he knows what it's gonna be like until it's made

He also doesn't want to be associated with a certain meal so he'll only make it once or twice. If you want it again then YOU have to cook it!

If he's completely alone and just making something for himself, then maybe a nice sandwich or sub

I don't know why but he just gives off sandwich vibes

Dogmeat

Can't cook

He would, however, oversee the situation and taste test when needed

Gage

Grill dad

He'd make like, ribs and baked potatoes. Nice and filling and also pretty damn messy

Not too big on vegetable but he'd also grill like, corn on the cob or maybe some skewers

Chicken wings perhaps???

Maccready

Weird food combinations is this man's bread and butter (or bread and ketchup)

He WILL hand you a turkey sandwich with ketchup and potato chips in it. And it will taste good.

Or like, steak sushi. Spaghetti on pizza. Mayo dumplings?

He can make basically anything, but he just has some really weird preferences

If you can get over the strangeness it's actually pretty decent

Nick

Toast and black coffee <3

That's it

I mean like he'll make you tea or something if you don't like coffee

Pre-war Nick always had toast and coffee for breakfast in the morning so it's nostalgic to him

Old Longfellow

"Oh he'd make a fish based meal" NO. He lives next to the water he's probably SO DAMN TIRED OF FISH

Chicken noodle soup maybe, but like high quality chicken noodle soup with some nice spices

Or maybe a pot roast??

Piper

Weirdly enough, as much as she loves sweets I feel like she'd be a much better cook than a baker

She'd make a nice well rounded meal with protein, carbs, 1-2 vegetables. Gotta make sure Nat's eating well

Not huge on spices though. Like your mashed potatoes will be buttery and smooth as fuck but you're limited to like basic box gravy and maybe salt and pepper.

I feel like she can and will make an entire turky dinner. Just out of nowhere. There's like 7 different sides and an apple pie Curie made.

Preston

Oh this man will make a MEAN stew

It's his go-to. He can share it if needed, have leftovers to feed himself for multie days, and it's versatile

I'm thinking either radstag or brahmin meat, or maybe a bone stock, but in the past he's made stews out of basically anything, from bugs to deathclaw meat

He also has a soft spot for campfires and would love to roast marshmallows or cook hotdogs or something around a fire

X6-88

Grabs an apple for himself and leaves.

The Institute eats SUPPLEMENT PACKETS there is NO WAY this man knows how to cook

He's probably a picky eater too, and he only likes those packets

He's gonna be living off a diet of applesauce and ensure for a long while

Honestly he might enjoy taking his food (any food) and putting it in a blender. It fixes the sensory aspect of it.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #TUMBLR POSTED THIS BEFORE I WANTED TO >:(#so i GUESS this is finished #headcanons #cait #codsworth #curie #paladin danse #deacon #dogmeat #porter gage #maccready #nick valentine #old longfellow #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88

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cottonconnielvr · 2 years ago

Note

if you are taking ideas/requests whenever you are can you write reader going to see plug!connie in jail and they talk on the phone and it’s just so cute and ughh

WARNINGS ✩ — (i don’t know how visitations work so bare with me), suggestive language, eh nothing just cute, connie is written as dominican

You follow the security guard into a cold concrete room. You’ve been here plenty of times before so you know exactly where you are going. You keep your face straight and mean mug every security guard who looks you up and down. You make sure to listen to Connie’s orders everytime.

“Make sure you look mean as fuck when you come up in here. You too pretty to be inna place like this”

You sit at the booth, waiting for Connie to come out. You were slightly chilly sitting at the cold metal. Your pink longsleeve shirt wasn’t enough to keep you warm. You brushed your palms on your true religion jeans. Connie always made you nervous no matter how long you’ve been around him.

You look up when you hear the door open, slight chatter in the background from other booths.

You see your gorgeous husband boyfriend, his arms covered in tats. He had on a short sleeve white tee, His jumpsuit resting around his waist.

You immediately break out into a smile as he sits down, grabbing the phone off the wall.

“Hi babyyy” Connie feels his heart beat faster as your sweet voice greets him. “Hey princess. You look so pretty.” His voice slightly cracked in the middle of his sentence. He wanted to touch you so so bad. But soon he’d be able to.

“Thank youuu. Do you like my nails? I got ur favorite color.” You hold your hand up to show him the pink charmed nails.

Connie shook his head and smiled. I’m pretty sure that’s you’re favorite color.”Yeah baby they look good.”

“How was your week?” Connie just wanted to hear you talk, hear your voice. In these moments you kept him sane. These little fifteen minutes highlighting his entire month.

“Ummm it was okay. I went over Mika’s for a bit and I actually meal prepped this whole week which surprised me because I never make it through the whole week,” You talked with your head down.

“Look at me I wanna see your pretty face” Connie demanded. You swallowed your nerves at looked him in the eye.

“What did you eat?”

“Just simple chicken and rice and then I just seasoned mixed vegetables. It was good though.”

Connie groaned and threw his head back, “Baby that would hit so good right nowww”

You laughed, “Don’t worry. When you come home i’ll cook you all of your favorite foods and you can eat it all by yourself”

“I think I just wanna eat one thing.” Your eyebrows furrow before you look at Connie’s expression, seeing him look at you with low eyes scanning your body up and down.

You gasped, covering your mouth, “Baby you’re so nastyyyyy”

“Girl y’know you want me to.” His teeth tug on his bottom lip before he smiles.

You fight the urge to scream, kick your feet, and giggle.

You roll your eyes playfully while smiling.

“You went shopping like I asked you too?” You nodded your head, “Mhmm. I got some more shoes and some random stuff from Bath and Body Works” Connie nodded his head. “That’s good”

“I checked up on your mom too like you asked me” You add.

“Good girl” His smooth voice rings through your ear. You always complied with him. You were such a one in a lifetime girl and he would kill just to not fuck it up. You were holding him down while he was locked up, he couldn’t ask for more. You made sure his business still resumed, running drops yourself even when Connie asks you not to. You just have Jean come with you to be safe.

“I miss you so much” You pout. “I miss you more princess. Just three more months ight?”

“Yeah” Your voice trailed off. You haven’t touched your boyfriend in over a year. You were touch and sex deprived but you would wait on Connie. Even if it took decades.

You were interrupted out of your thoughts when you heard the security guard from behind you.

“Time is up”

Connie laughed as he watched you look over your shoulder at the guard, rolling your eyes before flipping your hair over your shoulder. “I hate that big neck ass block head guard” You smacked your teeth.

“I love you so much princesa. You take care of yourself good kay ma?”

“Okayy. I love you more” You fight away that burning feeling in your throat, not wanting to leave your man but you had no choice.

You blew a kiss at Connie before following the guard.

Connie made sure to take a look at your ass, licking his lips. “No way her ass got fatter…”

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mixsethaddams · 2 years ago

Text

Steve was having a really bad day.

He forgot to pass on a message to a co-worker which, ok, wasn’t the end of the world exactly, but it made his insides squirm.

He forgot to write a list for his boss which, again, nothing that couldn’t be rectified, but it made his palms itch.

A customer yelled at him over something out of his control and he had to stand there and take it because what is retail if not the first circle of hell.

Steve sat in the break room and wished his coffee was hotter while he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s just one of those days,” he told himself over and over. “It’ll be over soon,”

He wasn’t working the next day so he was counting down the very seconds until he could dart out the front door and not have to come back for a whole forty hours.

Things didn’t improve after he swallowed his lukewarm coffee and went back to his duties. Everything he said seemed to land wrong. Everything he did seemed to need redoing. It felt like his co-workers were annoyed with him even though he knew that realistically they had no reason to be. Steve’s jaw was sore from clenching it shut, trying not to burst into tears right there in the store and hold it together at least until he got to his car.

Even staying an extra fifteen minutes after he should have left to help someone finish a task they were struggling ended up being the wrong thing to do. Why did he stay? Had he clocked out? He should have. Did he not know that overtime needed to be approved a day in advance?

Steve let the feeling of the latest failure of the day wash over him as he grabbed his things and left after his shift.

Eddie wasn’t even going to be home when he got back. He was running a campaign for his D&D group which was being hosted in Gareth’s place a full fucking two hour’s drive away. Eddie was just going to be staying the night there and coming back tomorrow, instead of driving home when they finished. It made sense. It was going to be a ten-hour session and they didn’t even start until almost noon. It was just something that happened every other week and Steve usually enjoyed having a few hours to himself but today he would have killed to have his boyfriend waiting for him.

Steve’s lip wobbled while he drove. His eyes were misty and he was blinking rapidly to keep them clear. He was determined to get home before fully breaking down. He just wanted to order dinner, wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, and watch the latest episode of Married At First Sight. When he finally got back to their apartment, his phone pinged with a text from Eddie.

“Hope work was ok! I’ll call you before I go to sleep later? We’ve got about four hours left”

Steve sighed at the screen. Eddie always called him to say goodnight when he stayed at Gareth’s. Usually Steve loved it because Eddie would be a little bit drunk after having some post-session beers with his friend and they’d giggle together on a video call until Eddie’s eyelids drooped. Tonight though Steve wasn’t sure he could handle the reminder that he was alone when he wanted so badly to be held.

“Long day. Probably just crash soon as I’m home”

“You good?”

“Just tired. Hope you’re having fun :) “

Steve regretted the food he ordered for dinner. He wanted the orange chicken but for some reason he ordered sweet and sour pork. It wasn’t bad, it was fine, but the chicken was his favourite and it almost felt like a form of punishment for his bad day. So now Steve was crying uncontrollably over a container of rice. He felt so stupid but it was just one more thing that had gone wrong for him today. Crying at this point didn’t even feel cathartic. It just gave him a headache and made his throat dry.

He didn’t finish his food, and he didn’t watch TV. Steve dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving his clothes in a pile in front of the dresser he grabbed his sweatpants from, before he took a pill for his headache and fell, unshowered, into bed. It was still bright outside.

Steve felt the bed dip next to him. For the briefest moment a kind of raw panic gripped his chest and he was too scared to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar brush of fingertips over his temple, sweeping strands of hair out of his face, that he calmed down.

“Stevie?”

Eddie whispered it softly and Steve opened his eyes. The room was dark, but there was a navy blue hue, like the sun was only barely below the horizon, that meant Steve could still see Eddie’s outline.

“What time is it?” mumbled Steve.

“Almost nine,” said Eddie gently, still rubbing his hand through Steve’s hair.

Steve scrunched his nose. Nine? That wasn’t right? It wasn’t bright enough to be morning. He peered up at his alarm clock, still flashing the same date it had been when he closed his eyes before fitful sleep.

Steve sat up quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked again. “Why are you here, what happened?”

Steve knew Eddie’s D&D sessions never cut short for anything less than a national emergency so he was instantly on high alert. Eddie driving all the way home was even more concerning. Steve gripped Eddie’s arms, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It was cold from being outside. He lifted the edges of the jacket as if he was checking to make sure Eddie was all in one piece.

“Nothing happened,” soothed Eddie. “We just finished up early,”

Steve was still looking over Eddie’s body like he was expecting to find a missing limb or something.

“What?” asked Steve, confused. “Why?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling the vibe,” he said easily. “I plugged the plug and said I needed to get home,”

“You never finish early,” said Steve. “And you never drive home. What happened?”

Eddie sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me?” asked Eddie gently, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

Steve gulped.

“I don’t…” stuttered Steve. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Baby,” said Eddie firmly.

Steve chewed his lip to stop it trembling.

“I just had a bad day,” said Steve quietly. “You didn’t need… You could have stayed out there,”

Eddie gently pulled Steve forward, so he could rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Steve breathed in the well-known smell of cologne and cigarettes smoked outside. He practically melted into it.

“Thought this might be where I was needed more,” murmured Eddie, twisting around on the edge of the bed to allow Steve to relax more comfortably into his hiding place. “Looks like I was right, hmm?”

“Ruined your game though,” said Steve, muffled against the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “I just had a bad day,”

“It’s not ruined,” assured Eddie as Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Knowing I left you here by yourself after a bad day is what would have ruined it,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” sighed Steve. Eddie was running a comforting hand over his back.

“You didn’t need to,” said Eddie. “Soon as you didn’t ask for a more solid time to expect me to call you, that’s when I knew,”

Steve sniffed back a tear.

“So dumb…” said Steve, frustrated almost more than ever with himself now. “I’m sorry, this is so fucking dumb,”

Eddie shushed him gently.

“No it’s not,” said Eddie, nuzzling into Steve’s hair. “Sometimes things creep up on you like this. It happens,”

“I wish it didn’t,” admitted Steve, pulling back to look at Eddie.

Eddie rested their foreheads together.

“I’m always here for when it does, though,” said Eddie softly.

Steve closed his eyes and let Eddie take him into another embrace, holding him tight for what could have been seconds or hours.

Steve didn’t remember when Eddie finally slipped his jacket off. He didn’t remember feeling him sliding into bed next to him, gathering him up and holding him as close as he could. Steve just remembered the feeling of Eddie heartbeat against his own chest, the sound of his breathing, his fingertips scratching gently against Steve’s scalp.

All Steve knew was feeling safe. Protected. Like one bad day was no longer drowning him because now, he remembered how to keep his head above water.

#steddie #my writing #seth writes #steve x eddie #why yes i did have a bad day and project it onto steve harrington

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shegetsburned · 1 year ago

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | part i ‧₊˚ 𓐐

— ft. satoru gojo. suguru geto. kento nanami. toji fushiguro. ryomen sukuna.

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

normally he prefers to just eat what other people prepare for him, tasting his friends and students’ meals, most of the time.

but when he cooks, gojo doesn’t have time for shit, so I’m thinking of something simple but good. he likes to eat, especially sweet stuff. something sweet and salty, maybe?

he can do anything he sets his mind to, but is probably too lazy to cook most of the time, so he’ll just do the same two or three meals.

main dish; i’m thinking of teriyaki sauce chicken with some rice. it’s simple and soooo good. you can also feel the sweet taste of the sauce on the meat and it’s absolutely delicious.

you’ll have to close your eyes before satoru feeds you the first bite as he waits for your reaction.

i’m sure it’s sublime and it annoys you that he can always do everything just right. I mean, after cooking the same thing over and over again, everyone would excel, but this man has done it perfectly since the first time.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

man looooooves to cook for you. you’re barely doing the cooking when he’s at home and it’s delicious every time.

he’ll learn new dishes just for you and ask what you prefer. he doesn’t cook for him, he does it for you, to see your smile when you swallow one of your favourite dishes.

it’s not extra elaborate dishes, but it’s cooked with so much love. the presentation is insane and it’s always exquisite.

suguru will find a way to make an amazing meal with the few ingredients you guys have in the fridge.

he’s definitely the type to add his own touch to every meal so that it tastes absolutely divine.

main dish; maybe a spicy ahi poke which is a spicy tuna bowl made with fresh chunks of fresh sashimi and a spicy mayo sauce. despite looking like an ordinary meal, its lightness and flavour makes me think suguru would be the type to cook this for you.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

i have mixed feelings about this man because he used to buy the same sandwich from the same bakery for years. so i have a feeling he barely used to eat, especially being so occupied with work and doing overnights; less experience in the kitchen?

but for you, he has a soft spot and wants to do the best in everything that concerns you, including cooking. so he’ll learn his ass off in secret and surprise you with amazing meals.

he often prepares multiple dishes for one dinner so you can taste as much as possible. this man is hardworking.

main dishes; seafood salad + vegetable stew + temari sushi (their presentation is adorable, you’d love them) + a bunch of meat and seafood.

kento prepares everything before you come home, living for the sparkles in your eyes when you see the delicious-looking plates on the table.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

honestly, he barely cooks for you. he usually just orders take-outs, and makes you pay.

I just know he likes spicy stuff. it’s always fuming hot when it goes into your mouth.

i’m sorry but this man doesn’t know how to cook. he just endures food or goes out to eat. i swear he doesn’t give a fuck about what he eats, as long as he thinks it’s good and enough for his belly to be filled, he’ll eat it.

main dish; instant noodles at best. adding canned meat and sriracha sauce into the mix. he’s lazy, okay? but who doesn’t enjoy a good old cup of instant noodles?

also, toji’s the type to shove the food into your mouth to make you stfu thinking you’re annoying because you’re hungry.

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

uuuh, is he even cooking for you, or are you the one doing everything?

i have a feeling he’s crazy about meat. he needs some in his meals at all times otherwise it’s uninteresting.

so if he ever cooks for you, don’t be surprised to see different kinds of meat, and it is spicy asf too.

he takes pleasure in killing the meat himself, loving the thrill of chasing and devouring his prey.

main dish; roasted lamb shoulder with garlic. a whole ass piece of meat for the king of curses and you. he’ll probably eat many shoulders to satisfy his hunger and watch you take your time with the giant meal he prepared while salivating.

he’ll eat you after.

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medusapelagia · 5 months ago

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28 Tomorrow

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:Tomorrow ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Caretaker) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: open ending, description of injuries Words: 852

Every single cell of Eddie’s body hurt so badly. His joints are in flame, his skin was pulled so harshly to try to stop the bleeding of his bats’ bites that he’s sure it would rip off if he breathe in the wrong way, he has had a headache since he opened his fucking eyes, and still, the stupid doctors are going to lowering his pain meds, because they don’t want him to become an addict. Like… are you fucking kidding, right?

But no.

They were fucking serious, and now all Eddie can do not scream in pain is biting the inside of his cheeks and trying very hard to sleep, but the pain is so devastating that he can’t sleep. Fuck those stupid doctors. Eddie’s no killer, that's what the TV said, but he would kill for a joint. Or maybe he should just murder the stupid doctors who decided to lower his meds.

“You ok?”

Steve.

Dear, kind, smiling, Steve, who’s always there, reading to him some articles from the Rolling Stones and telling him what’s going on out there.

“Do I look ok?” Eddie hisses, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep.

“Do you need another pillow? I can ask Mary if-”

“I don’t need a fucking pillow! Harrington! I need my fucking meds!” Eddie yells, and the machine at his side starts to beat out loudly while Eddie grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay still and ride out the pain, counting in his mind.

One. Two. Three.

When finally his jaw relaxes, Steve’s still there, looking at him with fondness, “How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you get?”

“Seventy-four.”

“That’s great. A few days ago it was more than ninety.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, the only part of his body he can move without experiencing any pain, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. Things are getting better. And tomorrow they’ll get even better.”

Eddie doesn’t punch him in the face because he’s really hurting, but the feeling is there.

When the nurse knocks on the door with a tray, Steve immediately jumps on his feet and grabs it, thanking her profusely.

“Look, Eddie. Plain rice and boiled chicken. Your favorite.” Steve jokes, cutting the chicken into small little pieces, ready to feed Eddie.

“You don’t have to feed me. There are nurses here, they are paid for it.”

“I like to take care of you. We’re friends, right?”

Eddie lifts an eyebrow, “Are we? I remember that you didn’t do anything when Tommy closed me in the janitor’s closet. Am I wrong?”

“Well, that’s what before-”

“So let me get this straight: we risked our life together so we’re friends now and you like to take care of me while you wouldn’t even talk to me at school for four fucking years? Thank you, Harrington, but I don’t need anyone’s pity. Especially yours.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times as if he is trying to find the words to reply to Eddie’s accusation, but in the end, he stabs a piece of chicken way too harshly and moves it to Eddie’s lips without a word.

Eddie eats his plate in complete silence, missing the gentle bantering with Steve but still taking refuge in the silence. Once the plate is empty, Steve takes the tray and moves toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” he says before opening the door, “I’m sorry for how I acted. I’m sorry for Tommy’s behavior and I’m sorry if we weren’t friends in high school. And I’m even more sorry if I misunderstood and thought we were friends now. I won’t bother you anymore.”

When the door clicks close Eddie realized that he fucked up. He fucked up badly.

Steve is kind and gentle, he loves to take care of the people he loves and the fact that Eddie is in pain isn’t enough of an excuse to treat him like that.

When Wayne comes to visit after his shift at the plant he’s surprised not to find Steve sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Did Steve have a shift?” Wayne asks, grunting while he sits on the chair.

“He’s not coming back.”

“Eddie…” Wayne grumbles.

“What?”

“What have you done?”

“Nothing. Just told him nurses are paid to feed me, he isn’t.”

“That boy dragged your sorry ass back home. He saved your fucking life and spent almost every free moment here with you to keep you company, and you treated him like that?”

“I’m not a fucking charity project, Wayne!” Eddie hisses while Wayne gives him a stern look but doesn’t comment anymore. He just grabs his crosswords and starts reading the definitions out loud, trying to solve the puzzle with Eddie, but Eddie’s mind is too far away to be really helpful, so when the nurse comes back to tell them that visiting hours are over, half of the crossword is still blank.

“Eddie. Call him. Tell him you’re sorry.” Wayne tells him before leaving and Eddie maybe would, if he wasn’t too proud and the only phone wasn’t at the nurses’ desk.

But tomorrow he will.

Tomorrow he definitely will.

#au gust #steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #writing prompt #prompt challenge #fandom event #au gust 2024 #alternate universe #writing challenge #steddie event #stranger things #angst #angsty august

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ladysavich · 5 days ago

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~~Dancing Rasta General Headcanons~~

Probably in his mid 30s

Jamaican

Extremely nice to everyone. And has forgiven everyone who had attempted to kill him done him wrong.

First one to reach practice apart from coach of course

Will NEVER EVER let anyone feel lonely.VERY VERY GENTLE and has even hugged dingaan after Invincible United lost the super league final.

This man has gone through a LOT. Lost his memory✅ Injured an inhuman about of times✅ Has to manage a team that is mentally ill ✅ Worries about his teammates 24/7 ✅

i am sorry but. WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP ATTACKING HIM IN EVERY SINGLE GAME!! Like seriously did he kill your family? Why do the other teams hate him so much??

To conclude this man need serious therapy and as many hugs as possible.

My man has definitely contemplated getting a leash for Shakes because of all the bullcrap he has done and has also definitely smacked North shaw with a spatula for being impatient at a cookout Is probably the only one who can actually cook (apart from Eagle eye and maybe tiger)

10/10 starts humming when cooking

one of his favourite foods would be Jamaican jerk chicken

He HATES Bland food. He had to devour the chicken and rice that was served during the crunch in one go.IT SHOULD AT LEAST HAVE SOME SPICES!! SALT AND PEPPER DOESN'T COUNT!!

According to me, he is against dating fans. He thinks that :

A fan would only date him because he is a literal celebrity

2. would be troubling for the fan to deal with paparazzi

3. It's a misuse of his power

(Would probably date someone who is a part of the football franchise)

Definitely taught Shakes how to set up boundaries with fans when he was a rookie.

Not a flashy person. Drives a decent car, lives in a decent house in a loving neighbourhood

Has had to deal with the neighbours kids running to him whenever he leaves for practice (he loves them)

feeds squirrels and birds from time to time

LOVES LONG COLD WATER SHOWERS!

(Anyway Thank you so much for reading my not so little rant :D. My posts will be a bit slow since my final exams are about to start)

#supablr #supa strikas hc #supa strikas fans #supa strikas #dancing rasta #Supa strikas dancing rasta #Supa strikas headcanons

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crazylittlejester · 1 month ago

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In the modern AU, what is everyone’s favorite food? Do they prefer sweet or savory? Can they handle spice? Do they prefer any substitutions, like, for example, alternative milks? Are they picky or are they basically a garbage disposal?

Sorry if that’s a lot of questions, I’m tired and I ramble when I’m tired, plus I love learning more about the modern AU boys❤️

never apologize for askin’ questions i LOVE talking about these guys :)

Time: Major sweet tooth, he loves sweet treats so much akskdkkd. He can handle a BIT of spice (like on a scale of 1-10 he’d tap out at 4). He’s also lactose intolerant and vegetarian, but honestly he rarely lets the lactose intolerant thing stop him. Malon is more likely to prevent him from eating something he probably shouldn’t than he is 😭 His favorite food would probably be like soup and a nice grilled cheese sandwich

Warriors: More of a savory guy, but he loves his fruity drinks and the occasional chocolates. He has a SHOCKINGLY high spice tolerance (like a 9 on a 1-10 scale), but he doesn’t often eat spicy foods. He has a pretty strict diet planned out to make sure he’s actually getting enough to keep himself healthy and running because he dances and exercises so much, so it’s not that he’s picky he’s just very specific about what he eats. He’s trying to ignore the gluten sensitivity and as the years go by it’s just. becoming ridiculously hard to do so, but he’s stopped eating AS many things with gluten in them as he used to. He’ll make somewhat of an attempt to avoid it. And his favorite food is oranges :)

Twilight: Like father like son, he loves his treats. He can handle a HELL of a lot more spice than Time tho, like a 8.5 on a 1-10 scale. He will eat literally anything you put in front of him, he’s always hungry like if theres food, he’ll eat it. His favorite food is a rice dish that Malon makes

Sky: Definitely a sweets guy, he loves his emotional support chocolate. Highest spice tolerance out of everyone, he fucking loves spicy food. He works in a coffee shop and he probably tried one of the drinks with almond milk and decided he didn’t hate it and will now sometimes use that. He’s not super picky, but he’s also the guy cooking, so he’ll eat anything because HES making it allskddl. His favorite food is a chicken and rice dish his adoptive parents made for him that he really loves

Hyrule: Sweet toothhhhhhhhh, oh my god he loves sugar. Spice would kill him immediately i fear, like a victorian boy experiencing a spicy cheeto. Not super picky, but WILL take tomatoes and onions off his burgers. He loves berries so so much, he snacks on em a lot

Legend: He prefers sweets but will deny that, he does also like savory things but he PREFERS sweets. Says he has a super high spice tolerance but this is a lie, he’ll get red in the face and be coughing saying he’s totally fine with the spice level. He definitely gets oat milk instead for his drinks he makes himself because he thinks it tastes better. Has a lot of sensory issues with food so there are a lot of things he simply can’t eat, like anything overly soft and mushy or soupy feeling, but besides that he’ll eat ANYTHING. He loves apple pie, that’s his favorite :)

Wild: Has eaten toxic things and survived. Nothing affects him. No one knows if he even LIKES eating, he just eats anything and everything he doesn’t really seem to have favorites or preferences, and Sky and Legend (who work at the coffee shop together) dont even know if the guy likes drinks because he orders a mug of ice water “for here” every time 😭 (he does really really like Sky’s favorite rice and chicken dish when Sky makes it and lets Wild come over and have some, and also strawberry smoothies!!)

Four: More of a savory guy, but he does enjoy sweet treats too. His spice tolerance is like. a 5/10 it’s incredibly average. Unfortunately for him his cooking friends love spice and he’s always dying just a little when he eats their food but it’s fine 😭 He’s not super picky but there are things he despises, like olives. His favorite food is his grandpa’s grilled chicken and he loves snacking on cashews

Wind: He LIVES on sugar, and also has a pretty high spice tolerance, like 9/10. He’s the guy complaining the “spicy” item on the menu Isn’t (outside of the restaurant ofc, in the car ride back home). He has a nut allergy so he’s gotta be careful about that, but otherwise he really will eat anything. His favorite food is his grandma’s stew :)

#jes ask #jes’s miscellaneous modern au #linked universe

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otocyon · 4 months ago

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hii!! um.. could i have recipes that would apply for a warrior cat? any clan… i’m mostly just looking to fulfill how yummy all of the fresh kill sounded to me as a young cat :,) no restrictions btw!!

yippee i also wanted to eat the prey in warriors so bad... i still do couldn't pick a clan, so went with some general ones!! hope you enjoy :]

frogs/toads french fried frog legs || louisiana frog legs

birds pheasant coq au vin || honey & garlic wild duck || roasted whole doves with paprika and butter || whole roasted chicken

fish amazingly moist salmon || easy baked trout || cantonese steamed fish || easy baked herb crusted salmon

rabbits/hares rabbit in wine and garlic sauce || rabbit stew || garlic roasted rabbit || hunter rabbit

to satisfy certain cravings... raw fish: sashimi, sushi, tuna tartare, ceviche bones: wraps with just meat + lettuce/tortilla strips, skewer meat cubes on pretzels, eat chunks of meat with carrot sticks (or other crunchy vegetable) carrion: shredded or really saucy meat, ground meats, fermented meats, bacon bits/meat sticks/jerky fur/feathers: meat floss, rice noodles, kelp noodles, leafy greens, or shaved bits of vegetables

consider using whole animals to get the most accurate simulation if accessible to you, but most of these recipes should be available to do with fillets/cuts of meat as well.

#anon #recipes #finished #original #||#fictionkin #therian #kin request #warriors kin #warrior cats kin #cat kin #cat therian #alterhuman #cathearted #kin recipes #kin recipe #kin food #kin blog #kin stuff

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oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid · 6 months ago

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Some Bo Sinclair hcs bcuz why not:

- massive fan of horror movies, particularly the really gory ones. Would absolutely love Saw.

- an alright cook, as mentioned in my Vincent post. Emphasis on alright. The stuff he makes isn’t as bland and depressing as Vincent’s, he uses more salt and spices than his brother, but it’s still not great. Still, someone has to stop Vincent from eating Kraft Mac n Cheese three meals a day seven days a week.

- this might sound weird but I feel like he used to have a habit of going around town counting all the wax sculptures before going to bed as a way of winding down. Then he started having nightmares about doing this and there being too few or too many sculptures and he had to stop.

- when there’s visitors around he keeps up the appearance of being a mechanic, but in his day to day life he mostly does repairs and maintenance around town. Sometimes he brings one of the victims’ cars to the garage and he messes around with it for fun (is it obvious I know fuck all about cars)

- feels pretty lonely, despite living with his twin and seeing him every day, and Lester dropping by pretty often.

- used to be interested in several different art mediums, but Trudy kinda killed all those interests. After her death he is slowly easing back into doing art for fun and not just to be good in his parents eyes.

- particularly likes photography and film. Has a genuinely good eye for that sort of thing.

- has filmed his day to day life in Ambrose. Someone get this man a YouTube channel

- has forbidden Lester’s roadkill food in the house (despite it being fresh and much tastier than his bland chicken and rice).

- has insomnia, and likes to pace around the house. If Vincent’s also up they just kinda pleasantly coexist, Vincent’s probably microwaving some leftovers at 3 am and Bo’s drinking orange juice. They don’t speak at all, just kinda vibe.

- has set up all the rigged stuff around town, the old lady and the lights and everything. He’s very good at stuff like that. He probably also fixed Vincent’s wax shower thingy.

- I like to think he genuinely worries for Vincent, who can get so absorbed in his art that he doesn’t eat or drink or sleep. He has on multiple occasions practically carried Vincent up the stairs to spend some time with the family and eat proper food.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair house of wax #bo sinclair headcanons #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #house of wax headcanons #headcanons #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair

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mykingdomforapen · 7 months ago

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chapter 10 of "courage of stars" will be coming next week and guys, I'm so nervous. I am so excited and I'm so nervous. This chapter is many things. It's where I got to do some things I've been really wanting to do. It's where I cross a point of no return in the story. I got to try a different style. It's where the line blurs between fanfic and a genre that I respect and fear.

It's also a huge factor in why this fic is rated M. Hoo boy.

So! In lieu of updating today, so that you won't have to face a three week wait afterwards, here's a fun little drabble/filler episode:

When Lu Guang was four years old, he lovingly killed three tadpoles. He had scooped them from the pond in a plastic cup and brought them home happily, convinced he would raise them into froghood. By Thursday, all three of them floated lifelessly in the surface of the bright blue tub in which he housed them. His mother poked them curiously with a chopstick while he sobbed into his grandmother's lap.

"Don't be so sad, Guangguang," Maamaa crooned as she patted Lu Guang's head. "You tried very, very hard. We all know that you did your best."

"I killed them!" Lu Guang wailed into her skirt. "I just want them to be frogs and now they died!"

"Oh, A Guang," his mother said as she furtively plucked the dead tadpoles into a bundled newspaper for a more discreet funeral. "This is a good learning experience, right? Now you know what not to do with a frog. See, it's good to learn with the wild tadpoles, before you spend money on a pet. You know better for next time not to use tap water."

Lu Guang sobbed louder ("I meant it to be comforting!") until Yeye came home. Maamaa intercepted Yeye before he walked through the door and sent him on a mission to bring home steamed bai tang gao as a consolation, and Yeye beelined to the nearest vendor to bring home a steaming, buoyant cake of tangy sweet rice. Lu Guang chewed on it sullenly on the living room sofa after bidding the dead tadpoles goodbye into the storm drain.

Yeye sighed as he sat next to Lu Guang, stroking his grandson's little head.

"You know," he said, "when I was little, my father raised bees."

Lu Guang blinked up at Yeye with teary eyes.

"Honeybees?" he asked.

Yeye nodded. "My father was a very adventurous man, you know. A scholar, but always enjoyed the outdoors. He got it in his head that he would like to try raising a colony of honeybees. I was so excited to help him. I thought we would have hives and hives of bees, but what do you know! Only a month or so of having the bees, one day they all flew away. The queen said, no more! I was so disappointed."

Lu Guang sniffled. Yeye scratched the back of Lu Guang's head.

"After that, we stuck with chickens," Yeye said lightly. "What do you think of chickens, A Guang?"

Lu Guang shook his head.

"I like frogs," he whispered.

"You want to try raising frogs again?"

Lu Guang nodded. Yeye smiled crookedly.

"Ah, well," he said. "Chickens are smelly, anyway."

For Lu Guang's seventh birthday, his parents took him to the pet store.

His mother had promised him a pet frog for when he turned seven, partly because she had assumed he would grow out of frogs in three years' time. She was a woman of her word, though, when she noticed him checking out library books about frog care and frog types when he hit age six. When asked if he wanted to invite friends over to play, he shook his head and asked to go to the pet shop.

So on Sunday when Ba and Ma were off work, they took Lu Guang to the best-rated pet shop in the city, four subway stops away from Peidi University. Lu Guang was shaking with anticipation as he counted down the stops, donning his frog bucket hat in celebration and looking away solemnly when teenage girls cooed at him. All he could think about was his dream coming true.

“Now, A Guang,” his mother said breezily as she took Lu Guang’s hand to wade through foot traffic. “When you pick a frog, you have to make sure it isn’t poisonous, okay? Mommy is afraid of poisonous animals.”

“I don’t want a poison dart frog,” said Lu Guang, albeit with reservation. “They won’t have them in a pet store.”

He did not know what sort of frogs were available in the pet store that Ma and Ba were taking him. Ba, in all his practicality, had assumed that they would go to one of the street markets and pick up a frog that was meant for the dinnerplate. He expressed mild surprise when they turned left to the subway station, so Lu Guang knew Ba wasn’t going to be any help in asking for clues.

“All right, Guangguang,” said Ma as she ushered Lu Guang into the pet store. It was a corner shop with clean glass windows, full of tanks and cages and colorful habitat accessories. Colorful parakeets squawked and glittering snakes coiled under sunlamps, and Lu Guang’s little heart began to race with anticipation. “Only one frog, do you understand?”

Lu Guang nodded, his eyes as wide as coins as he stared up at the tall towers of tanks. There were saltwater coral fish dancing among anemones, drowsy tarantulas (Ma squeaked at the sight of them), sunbathing turtles, bearded lizards, and–

Lu Guang felt his jaw drop.

An Amazon milk frog.

It was just at eye level with Lu Guang, so that when he pressed his nose to the glass he was eye to eye with the docile pale blue frog. It perched on a rock under the sunlamp, milky blue and content to stare back at Lu Guang. It was perfectly patterned, gummy blue webbed feet, and a lipless mouth that promised simplicity.

It was, in short, the most wonderful creature that Lu Guang had ever seen.

He stood up on his tiptoes to get a closer look at the frog. Its tiny breaths puffed in its throat in a fascinating rhythm. It was like seeing a real-life Doraemon in Lu Guang’s eyes, or Sun Wukong–a fairy-tale celebrity come to life, except instead of comic books it was Lu Guang’s frog encyclopedia. Lu Guang knew its habitat, its life cycle, its favorite foods, and now he could behold one with his own eyes.

Seven minutes passed, and his mother touched him on the head.

“A Guang, there are other frogs you should look at too,” she said.

Lu Guang shook his head. He pressed his hands against the glass.

“Aiyah, A Guang, not too close.”

Lu Guang moved his nose a millimeter away from the glass, leaving a smudge. His mother looked down at him with a crooked smile.

“Is this the one you want, then?” she said.

He looked up to his mother and nodded. Ma turned to Ba and tapped the price tag. Ba nodded solemnly and undertook the task of haggling (unsuccessfully) with the store owner.

“Let’s pick out a tank for him,” said Ma.

She took Lu Guang’s hand and tugged him towards the habitat shelves, but Lu Guang refused to budge. He glued himself to the spot, maintaining unbreakable eye contact with the milk frog.

“A Guang, come on, now,” she said. “We have to give him a home, don’t we?”

Lu Guang huddled closer to the tanks. He was convinced that if he were to let the frog out of his sight, some other seven-year-old boy would swoop down and claim the frog as his own.

“Ba is buying the frog right now, see?” Ma said, pointing to Ba who was conceding to the original price of the pet store while he pulled out his wallet. “There. Let’s choose a tank.”

After another minute of convincing, Lu Guang finally followed his mother to pick out a proper tank for his frog. He picked out the soil, cleaned rocks, plants, and water source that would all go into his terrarium, but it wasn’t until Ba handed to Lu Guang a plastic covered cup with his milk frog sitting politely inside did Lu Guang feel the surge of joie de vivre. He hugged the cup to his chest, whispered his thanks to his father, and then burst into tears, precisely in that order.

Thanks for indulging me with this little drabble, gang. Who knows, since I'm kind of keeping up this 2 week streak for the rest of the update schedule, you might see the return of Frog Guang's adventures again...after all, if you've been on my tumblr for some time, you may recall that I have a headcanon that Lu Guang has beef with one of his cousins.

Until next week!

#LC writes #link click #lu guang #stars commentary #shiguang dailiren #frog guang agenda

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siasthoughts · 1 year ago

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« INFORMATION GATHERING »

CONCEPT; YOU PAY AND ASK FOR A DIFFERENT TYPE OF INFORMATION FROM HIM.

TOPICS/CONTENTS; ONESHOT . DOM!F!READER . READER HAS EXPERIENCE . PORN W PLOT . BLOWJOB . BEGGING . PRAISING (M!RECEIVING) . MY FIRST FIC SO IT MIGHT BE BAD 😓

I INDICATED STAMPS WHERE THE GOOD STUFF STARTS IF YOU'RE ONLY IN FOR THAT LAWLSIES

WORD COUNT; 1.6K

you were new to this 'maga killing' job, and all you've been doing since you got hired was be some type of coffee woman, and doing office-like work. but yesterday, you finally got a call from yoki telling you that you got picked out for a job. so here you sat, on the couch within saragi's headquarters, waiting impatiently for the organization's information broker—tatsuomi ban.

you reached out to the folder filled with information, flipping pages and observing the papers. "do you take personal requests?" you ask, but without looking at him. your fingers continue to trace along the paper as you read and stored the contents of it in your head. "depends of what type of request that is, ma'am!" he enthusiastically answered, "i'll personally pay you, for a certain type of information about yourself."

his smile drops slightly out of confusion, but he quickly regains it as he decided to pry more into your 'request.' "what type of information would you like?" he questioned. and you finally look at him, simply signaling with making an 'o' with your index and thump and inserting your other index through. now it definitely woudn't be your first time doing this type of thing, but it's been quite a while, and you just wanted a little release.

tatsuomi's expression changes, his face now being mixed with shock and surprise. but it wasn't negative at all, in fact he was excited, especially to do it with such a pretty lady! "how much is the pay?" he voices with an interested tone. "what do you think of ¥170,000?" you ask, resting your back against the soft cushion of the sofa. his smile seemingly shines even brighter when he hears the price, such easy money for doing something so simple and pleasurable no? "i accept this request of yours! and i'll take ¥10,000 off for you, we can make it ¥160,000!" he offers, though he sounded a bit stingy, you nodded.

"when and where?" he grins,

"after i finish this mission, meet me back here at 8 in the evening." you respond sternly, propping your palms against your knees to help you stand up. "see you later." you do a small wave without looking back at him as you exit the room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

8:21 PM

you sighed, walking into the building to be met with a now-calmed down restaurant. an energetic voice greets you, "oh hi! welcome back miss! do you wanna eat something or are you going straight to the office?" a girl with her hair styled in two buns—yaya—greets you. you sat down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen itself, "can i get a quick takeout of fried rice and chicken?", "oh of course!" she quickly responds.

"auntie! one fried rice with chicken for miss!" she continues as she shuffled to prepare the food, "also, there's this blonde man who came back just a few minutes ago asking if you're at the office..." your eyes flash toward her, "is he still there?" you ask calmly, "i mean, i think so. i didn't see him leave." she answers. "okay, i'll come back, and please add another order of the same thing, and make it dine-in thanks." she nods as you stand up to leave and go up to the second floor.

you creak the door open to see him sitting at the couch, soundly asleep with his head slumped down and arms crossed. you walked quietly toward him, crouching to get a better view of his face, though half of it is still covered with his hair, you tap at his knee softly. he woke up, slowly coming to. he realizes it's you and his smile quickly forms, "oh, you're finally here! so-" you cut him off, "let's go eat first, come down." you stand to go down, hearing his steps quickly follow behind.

"yaya, is our food done?" you enter the lively environment of the restaurant again, "yes! two fried rice with chicken, it's ready here!" she places a two plates on the bar and you insinuate him to sit by patting the stool beside yours as you sit down. you both start to eat your food in silence... before tatsuomi speaks up to ask, "so, where are we going after this?", "my place." you replied with a straightforward answer. the rest of the meal was a quiet one, the silence only filled with the mixed noises and talking by the other customers.

you finish your food and thank yaya and auntie, you stand to leave and tatsuomi follows you eagerly, walking by your side. "by the way, you'll get your pay beforehand, so don't worry." you elaborate, "okay! but how far is your place anyway?", "it's just down the street, over there, it's that building." you nod your head a bit to point towards the decent complex two buildings ahead. "alright!" he says with energy, and you guys walk in peace and quiet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

9:02 - THE GOOD PART.

you're both now at your apartment. you take off your overcoat and throwing it over your couch. your apartment was a decent size, perfect for one person and easy to clean, it was cozy and minimalistic. he coos in awe as he looks around.

"come with me," you take your shoes off, putting it on the rack that sat next to your bedroom door as you entered, "lay down for me will you?" you softly instructed. you see him gulp as he slowly laid his back onto the soft mattress. "good, is this the first time you're doing it?" and he purses his lips together, seemingly taking it as an insult, "no, i've done it quite a few times in fact!" his voice now defensive. "then why do you look so nervous?" you trailed your fingers along his chest, making him quite breathless.

"i-it's just that a woman as beautiful as yourself initiated such things with me..." he pants, his chest rising and falling faster. "well thank you." your lips stretch into a small smile as you slowly undid his top, your skin grazing his hot flesh and making him let out a small groan. his hands claw at your sheets, "don't be so impatient now." you quietly laugh at his eagerness as he lets go of the fabric, and try to keep himself nice and composed. what is it that you have that's making him so crazy and sensitive? it's like each touch you have sends fire across his body.

"shh... be patient, tatsuomi..." you teased, your index and thumb now resting around his nipple, playing with it as you slowly licked around the other. you made sure to keep it painfully slow that it would only bring him ever only so close to his high, but fast enough that the tension will continue to increase. he whimpers as he covers his mouth with the back of his hand and his body writhes under you, begging for more. you now wrap your lips around his nipples, sucking softly, making even him a little louder than he was. "what's this..." you sneer, grinding your hips against his lower half and feeling something stiff form against your thigh.

he looks down toward his hardened cock, his hips twitching and grinding, satisfying himself with the very small friction through the clothes. "please, please, please..." he quietly begged like it was a chant, "now... who said you could do that?" you said condescendingly as you moved your lips up against his neck, biting on it lightly but hard enough to leave a slight mark on his tender skin. your palm slithers toward his wrist and keeps it pinned down, yet he pulls a futile attempt to wriggle out of your firm hold as you continued to abuse the flesh at his neck, making lewd noises spill from his mouth like honey.

"please-"

"please what?" you interrupt, "tell me what you want."

"touch me pretty please..." he said in defeat as he subconsciously beat himself against your clothed pussy.

"as you wish." you replied with a sinister voice.

your hands work their way to unzip his pants and you see the indention of his dick through his underwear, a small shock runs through you, but it was nothing but fuel for your arousal. you take the last layer of clothing off and his cock springs up as he lets out a relieved breath, his breath slowing down a bit now, and you didn't like how his adrenaline was going down. you frown, wrapping your hands around his hard-on. a whine escapes him as his back arches, you find this turning you on even more.

you open your mouth, positioning your lips above the head. you tease the tip with your tongue first, licking around it. his breath gets faster, his whines grow more breathless as his body starts to shakes under your touch. "does it really feel that good?" you jokingly ask before taking him into your mouth. his hips buck, causing his dick to go deeper down your throat, making you gag a bit. you frown at the feeling, but you look up at him and seeing him in such a state aroused you. his back arched, head thrown back and sensitivity across the roof.

you start to bob your head, letting his cock hit the back of your throat as you try to adapt to feeling. you feel his palm go to the back of your head, his hand shaking as he rests his fingers in your hair. "w-wait- i'm going to... i'm close...!" he whines out, his grip on your hair slightly tightening. he starts to thrust into your mouth, but you take him out of your mouth right before he hit his climax. "h-huh...? why-why'd you stop?" he pants in desperation. "i have a better plan." you smile with a sinful expression.

i got lazy so i'll leave the rest to your imagination 💀

#gokurakugai #tatsuomi #tatsuomi ban #tatsuomi x reader #tatsuomi ban x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #[💮] sia.#[📝] sia.

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petertingle-yipyip · 6 months ago

Text

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

two - i don’t forgive you

one // three // masterlist

Pairing: platonic frank x livia

Word Count: 6,812

Summary: Groundwork for the coming battle is laid out but the goal may not be as clear as it once seemed.

Hatred. White hot, burning hatred.

That was all that was left in your head when you thought of Billy Russo. When he hung your from your bleeding wrists, any sentiment left bled out. When he screamed for you to beg, any regret for what was to come fell away. When he shot through your wrist, he shot any chance of redemption.

Now, when you thought of the man you once thought you could love, you wanted him dead. No matter how twisted his memories, how broken his mind, you’d never forgive him.

Dinah brought the three of you back to her apartment. It was nicer than yours, but on a Homeland SAC salary, of course it should’ve been. She said it was up to you three to decide living arrangements and she’d go to a hotel. You offered your apartment for her but she insisted that Billy would go there at some point. She didn’t care to listen to the fact that you had moved since Russo had last been where you lived.

Rachel asked a million questions in what seemed like one breath, then it turned into a long ramble about the state of Dinah’s apartment.

“You can take the bedroom.” You answered when she gave pointed looks to you both after asking who either of you were. “Gives you some privacy.”

“I’ll take the couch.” Frank nodded.

“What about you?” She sighed.

“I have my own place.” You nodded. “Or we can cross that bridge if we come to it. Go get some rest.”

Once the door shut behind her, you dropped on the couch beside Frank and let out a heavy sigh. Frank flipped on the TV and you let your head fall against the back of the couch to stare at the ceiling. Frank’s channel flipping led to a news story about Billy’s escape and the mention of his name ignited something under your skin.

Something feral, vengeful.

You had never, never wanted someone dead more in your life.

“How’d you end up with the kid?” You asked after he changed the channel again.

“Those people, they followed her into the bar I was at… I tell you, Princess, if it was a grown man, I wouldn’t have looked twice. But since it was a goddamn kid…”

“She’s crying.” You said instead, feeling that cold sensation hit your skin and mimic tears on your own face. “She’s so scared, Frank.”

“I know..”

“We’ve gotta protect her.” You said quietly and sat up to face Frank.

“Yeah…”

“I want him dead, but I don’t give a shit about going after him right now. Until he comes after me or remembers more than a goddamn logo of who attacked him, I don’t fucking care. That girl-“ You pointed to the bedroom. “-needs to be priority number one… Who the hell were those guys in Ohio? He killed some of his own men.”

“I don’t know. She don’t know either.”

“We can’t wait for them to come for her again. Did she tell you why they were after her?”

“Some pictures.” He shrugged. “Said she doesn’t know what’s on them but won’t let anyone touch ‘em.”

“Weird.” You confessed before looking at him again. You noticed how exhausted he seemed. “Hey… Get some rest, okay? I’ll raid her kitchen and put something together for you guys in the meantime.”

“You don’t gotta-“ He tried but you were already standing.

“Rest, Marine.” You said firmly. “Something tells me this is gonna get real fucked real fast.”

“Yes, maam.” He teased as he shifted to lay on the couch. “Livia?”

“Yeah?” You were halfway to the kitchen.

“My kids would’ve loved you.”

You turned quickly, absolutely shocked by what he said. You took a step closer and saw his eyes were closed. The man must’ve been half asleep before the thought had fully processed but the words still made your chest tight. It made you feel some strange sort of responsibility, to live up to that idea.

It made you wonder if that was possible for you.

You busied yourself in the kitchen in better off dwelling on the thought. You made a simple meal of chicken, rice, and veggies since you weren’t sure what Rachel’s diet was or if she’d come out to eat anytime soon. You made up three plates and packaged the leftovers, just as Dinah was getting home.

The sound of her closing the door woke Frank so you left two plates on the counter while tucking the third into the oven. You scribbled a quick note that there was a plate for her and slid it under the bedroom door to Rachel, then you returned to the kitchen and gathered the plates and silverware. You handed one to Frank and sat beside him with your own.

“Just make yourself at home then.” Dinah said sarcastically.

“Someone has to feed them.” You shrugged. “But by all means, don’t let me interrupt.”

You were barely listening as she filled in Frank on what was going on with Billy. Instead, you were looking at the bedroom door, hoping the kid would come out to eat. You looked back when you heard the light thud of something landing in Frank’s hand.

You looked over and saw the panicked sketches of the skull Frank had spray painted onto his bulletproof and the vague outline of your mask. The shapes would overlap sometimes, take up full pages other times. But every scribbled stroke of the pen was doused in emotion that you couldn’t look at it for long.

“… lulled them into thinking he was harmless.” Dinah ranted.

“Maybe he was.” You shrugged and Dinah stared at you like you were crazy. “What I mean is maybe your visits and mine, both of us telling him what he did, it triggered something in him. For all he knew, he was powerless. Then two women come in and tell him that he nearly killed them, despite said woman being in positions of power… You’d be surprised what an inflated ego can do for a man.”

Dinah turned away and opened the closet behind her, pulling out the bulletproof from the carousel. She tossed it at Frank and you watched his face for a reaction.

“That blood is yours and it’s mine and it’s hers and it’s his.” She said, using more desperation with each word. “If you’ve moved on and you’ve got closure, good for you. He hasn’t. Has she?” She gestured to you.

“When I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing of the man he was. If you’re right and it was a ploy, there’s no emotions to hold him back this time. You pick a fight with him, he won’t hesitate like you did.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” She scoffed.

“You had the shot. You didn’t take it.” Frank added in annoyance. “What do you want from me?”

“You think I don’t know that?” She damn near yelled. “I went to see him in the hospital every day once I was recovered. Because I wanted to hear him admit what he did.” She turned to face you. “I trusted him just like you… Maybe that’s why you couldn’t kill him either.”

“Excuse me?” Frank snapped while you stood quickly and loudly said “What did you just say?”

“That’s why you couldn’t kill him either!” She screamed back at you both.

“Killing him would’ve been too easy.” Frank countered, calmer than you were.

“Yeah, or too hard.” She continued to argue.

“The only reason I didn’t kill him was because I had lost too much blood.” You reasoned tightly, trying to shut down the burning anger throughout your veins. “If I had been in better shape, I would’ve slit his throat.”

“But you didn’t.” She sneered and you almost slapped her for it.

“That why we’re here, Madani? To take the shot you couldn’t?” Frank argued and you felt his presence behind you, standing at your back.

“Just give me names.” She backed down. “Name. Places. Anything I can use to find him.”

You and Frank said nothing. You both slowly backed away to the couch and she sighed in defeat before leaving. You blew out a sigh and let your head fall to Frank’s shoulder.

“You saw him?” Frank asked quietly.

“Only once. Mahoney caught me outside my building and dragged me over.” You explained. “His shrink thought it’d help…”

“It did something.”

“Nothing good, it seems.”

Later that night, Frank was dressed to go out. When you asked, he simply said for you to stay back and keep an eye on the girl. You waved him off and said for him to tell whoever he was visiting that you said hi. He laughed, patted you on the shoulder, and took off.

The next morning, Rachel began banging on the inside of the bedroom door. You shot up from your spot on the couch and Frank moved with you. He unlocked the door and she came out screaming, hitting and pushing Frank by his chest. You went up behind her and wrapped your arms around her, effectively pinning her arms to her side while you dragged her to the other side of the room.

You let yourself absorb her anger and panic, feeling it burn your skin and jolt down your spine. Almost instantly she relaxed in your arms and you let her go. You turned away from them both while you gave the sensations a moment to clear. With a deep breath, you were through it and you gestured for Rachel to sit down.

With a gentle nudge, you got her to talk about how she ended up on the run.

“Who’s he?” You interrupted her story. “Who came back?”

“Look, I really think we should just get out of here.” She said instead and you and Frank exchanged a look. “That’s what Fiona would do. ‘If you think your cover’s blown, just run’ .”

“Fiona…” You repeated with a nod. “Melina said that your cover’s not blown until you blow it. And once it is, fight back. Who’s Fiona?”

“Who’s Melina?” She shot back defensively.

“My aunt, helped train me and my cousins. Your turn.”

“I worked for her, me and the others… She took care of us and we did jobs for her.”

“The kind of jobs that got people trynna kill you?” Frank commented. “Doesn’t sound like she cared about you that much.”

“Well you didn’t know her, did you?” She retorted quickly.

“Angry little thing, isn’t she?” You almost laughed.

“Be nice.” Frank said, holding back his own laugh. “How’d you end up with her, living a life like that?”

“I don’t know. How does anyone end up doing anything?”

“I was taken as an infant.” You shrugged. “Can we get back to your story?”

“Okay…” She nodded and righted herself. “Next thing I knew, I was under the bed in this motel and my friends… They’re all bleeding out on the carpet. And I wanna run but I can’t, because that guy , the one with the vest and the old times preacher shirt…”

“Yeah, I saw him.” You nodded.

“He came back in and I couldn’t run. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything because he was literally standing right there.”

“So what was it, a job gone bad?”

“Mhmm. Fiona snuck us into some catering crew for this funeral in Chicago. We had to take pictures of these guys and I felt super weird about it because they were, like, hugging and kissing and crying but…”

Frank let out a sigh as the information sat amongst the three of you.

“He killed everyone I ever cared about. How do you think that feels?” She challenged Frank loudly.

“Don’t pick this fight, kid.” You warned calmly. “We’ve had our fair share of loss, alright? We get that he’s dangerous and we get that you’re scared.”

“What do you wanna do about it?” Frank asked, but you could feel that grief still inside him.

“Do about it?” She repeated in shock. “They’re gone, dead. And he wants to kill me too now, us. What we should do is split up and get the hell out of here. There’s this girl I know, Shontel. She’s here in the city and she used to run with us. She’d hook us up, I know she would.”

“Or sell us out.” You looked to Frank. “Guy like that has to have a higher up that’s pissed, enough to put a bounty on all three of us.”

Frank hummed in agreement.

“I could talk to Red.” Your hand went to the chain tucked safely under your shirt, still adorned with the ring you found.

“Nah, you know how this is gonna end and he ain’t gonna be able to do it.” He shook his head and you gave a short nod in agreement. “I get the feeling you two aren’t on great terms at the moment anyway.”

“Just…” You dropped your hand and looked back to Rachel. “The good thing is that we still have some anonymity from the guy. He has a fake name for you-“ You pointed to Frank. “-and I’m starting to think you too.” You pointed to Rachel and she hesitantly nodded. “He has a face for me but I think it was too dark for home to really see me. I'm sure he’s running all the checks he can to connect us, regardless.”

“Hello!? Why aren’t you listening to me?” She loudly cut in.

“You’ve seen what this guy can do.” Frank said lowly. “You know he’s not gonna stop. You’re gonna run? You’re gonna hide? He’s gonna find you. He seems pretty connected.”

A beat of silence while she processed the explanation.

“You go to your friend, she’s as good as dead.” You agreed. “You’d be risking not just your life and hers, but both of ours too. Could you live with that?”

“Sometimes, kid, you gotta fight.” Frank added. “You take the fight to them.”

“I’ll make breakfast.” You nodded and headed to the kitchen.

A little while after everyone was eating, Dinah came home. The first thing out of her mouth was about Billy. You listened to their conversation but didn’t add anything as they talked about some guy from Billy’s childhood. Rachel shot you a concerned look at the conversation continued and her interjection was immediately shot down. You smiled apologetically and gestured to the food in front of her.

The sudden knock on the door halted all conversation. You ushered Frank and Rachel into the bedroom before you tucked yourself in the space under Dinah’s kitchen island. You crouched down and pulled the chair in enough to seem inconspicuous while your hand pulled the gun from the back of your waistband. You kept it tucked against your hip while the other hand flattened on the ground to keep yourself stable.

Some of the tension in your body melted when you heard the voice. It was just Brett. You listened in and were unsurprised to find out that Dinah had swiped Billy’s journal.

A few moments after the door closed, your phone buzzed.

-meet me there-

You sighed slightly as you came out from your hiding place. Frank and Rachel came out soon after and you exchanged looks with your friend. He had a mission in mind, that much you could tell. But you didn’t know exactly what and while you wanted to help him first, you knew there was a certain level of compliance you owed Dinah.

You left before Frank did, hailing a cab to your building. You hustled to your apartment and changed. Your badge was at your hip, your FBI bulletproof across your torso, your gun at your back. You tucked a blade into the waistband at the opposite hip before throwing a jacket over the vest and heading out.

You had gotten there a few minutes before Dinah so you took a quick lap around the property. You kept yourself open as you did so but there was nothing. No fear, no anger, no regret. You weren’t convinced there was anybody in the house by the time you made it back to the front.

No one alive at least.

“Feels empty.” You told her as she approached.

She said nothing, just brushed past you and drew her weapon. You sighed to yourself but pulled your gun all the same. You followed her up the short porch steps before you kicked the door open together and entered the home.

You let her lead the way but your head stayed on a swivel, just in case something wicked lurked in the shadows. Her small exclamation drew your attention so you looked over her shoulder and saw the man’s body, impaled through his chest.

“Это нехорошо.” You said to yourself. (That isn’t good.)

That threat suddenly felt much closer than it did at the hospital.

A creak of the floorboards behind you caused you both to quickly spin. Dinah fired her gun before you did and the man yelled but there was no blood. You took the first step closer and realized it was Brett.

“Dammit, Madani.” You scolded as you shoved your weapon away and moved to Brett’s side. You helped pull your friend to his feet while he tried to catch his breath. “You alright, Brett?”

“Shit, that hurts!” He exclaimed and you cracked a small smile.

Him and Dinah began another back and forth about Billy. You bit your tongue and looked back at the man. If what Billy had said about him was true, then he deserved to die. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad for the corpse.

You did, however, find something else you felt.

Dinah had moved in to play some sort of power card over Brett and it made you act.

You put yourself between them and forced her to step back.

“You may be SAC, but you can’t intimidate me.” You warned lowly and you watched her eyes dart between yours, looking for something you couldn’t place. “Know your place, Agent Madani.”

She stared at you for a few more seconds before she scoffed and stormed away. You let out your pent up tension through a sigh and it appeared to you like a little puff of smoke. You turned and nodded to Brett before leaving, ignoring the questions he was throwing out.

When you got back to Dinah’s apartment, Frank and Rachel were in the middle of a serious conversation. You stood quietly by the door but Frank acknowledged your presence with only a glance.

“My name isn’t Rachel, by the way…” She confessed. “It’s Amy.”

“Suits you better.” You said kindly as you came around to stand beside Frank.

“Okay.” Frank nodded.

“Okay.” She agreed.

“So no more running?”

“No more running.”

“Alright then.”

“Can I ask you something?” She turned to you and you nodded. “I saw you were his lawyer… How’d you end up doing this?”

“I’m…” You glanced at Frank and he only offered a small shrug. “I’m former FBI, but even before that, I was trained from a young age as a child assassin. One of the most deadly in the world.”

“But you went to law school?”

“I wanted to help people.” You explained with a defeated shrug. “And I did help some but by being this version of myself I can help more, so I do both when necessary.”

“Who is this version of you?” She asked carefully, afraid almost.

“Exodus.”

“Read about her, too.”

“Yeah? She scare you the same way he did?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Good.” You smiled slightly.

Later that night while you were making dinner, Frank and Amy were playing a card game at the island while they talked. You went to the island to rinse your hands and looked over to watch her hands. You smiled to yourself when Frank picked the wrong card again.

“Three card monte.” You laughed. “You’ll never get it.”

“Ah, shut up.” He said to you with a small laugh. “You think you could do it?”

“It’s a scam game, Frank. You’re the mark that thinks he can beat anyone no matter how stacked the deck is. Frustration keeps you playing because you think you can outsmart the dealer. It’s part of why I went for you in the first place.”

“Went for him?” Amy turned to you quickly. “Wait, did you guys-“ She began to ask before Frank cut her off.

“Come do it then!” He said and pointed to the cards.

“Let’s talk about our situation then.” You nodded and gestured for Amy to deal. “What is it and how’d we get here?”

“It all goes back Konchevsky, right? The guy who hired us.” She began and flashed you the three cards. “I call him for help and suddenly there’s goons everywhere. So, I don’t know, maybe he didn’t want to pay for the job.”

“Too simple.” You shook your head, though your eyes were trained on her hands. “You’re a kid so not paying you wouldn’t be worth this.”

“Maybe he didn’t want witnesses?”

“Seems extensive for a set of pictures.” You tapped your card choice and she flipped it to show the queen. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You deadpanned.

“What?”

“Three card monte is a sleight of hand.” You explained. “It rides on the mark watching the wrong thing. The queen never moves, right?”

“Bullshit. Show me.” Frank insisted and you laughed as Amy did the move slowly.

“Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place too.” You continued. “Konchevsky wanted photos of someone and someone else didn’t want him to get ‘em. It’s not about who wants you dead, Amy. It could be about who wanted to get to Konchevsky.”

“What, you wanna go after him?” She asked you incredulously. “The creepy old Russian gang dude?”

“I’ve got a history with Russians.” You shrugged and went back to making plates.

Later that night, you and Frank went to find an old friend. He waited in the backseat of Turk’s car and you were crouched behind the back in your vigilante suit.

You had to admit it was nice to be back in your costume, mask across your eyes.

Once the man got in, you stood fully and waited outside the door. You saw him pull out his phone and begin dialing 911 so you threw your elbow against the driver’s side window. You reached in and wrapped your hand around Turk’s throat.

“Kazan’s Gym in Brooklyn.” The man gasped and your grip released. You leaned into the open space and his fear spiked. “You wanna take them out, the gyms best place.”

“Why?” You asked with your accent tinting the single syllable.

“No one's packing in there.”

You hummed in interest while the two started going back and forth about what was going to happen. You didn’t quite care for whatever meeting Turk would set up, using Amy and the photos as bait. You could walk in just as easily, fall into your Red Room persona and let Exodus take over. You’d own the gym in minutes based on accent and confidence alone, but you decided to let Frank set the plan in motion.

“You should go see him.” Frank said as you two were walking away.

“See who?” You asked despite knowing the answer.

“Murdock.” You could practically hear his eyes roll. “You haven’t talked to him since we got here, have you?”

“No.” You confessed. “I moved back into my old apartment before I took off with my cousins…”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Seems like it’s always more trouble than paradise.” You laughed sadly. “No, I can’t see him now. If Billy remembers any more about me, he’ll remember that apartment so the further I am from it, the safer he’ll be. Hopefully.”

“You can’t hide from him forever.” He glanced over at you.

“That was his plan.” You reasoned with a shrug. “He’s better off without me for now. I’ll come by in the morning, alright?”

“Hey.” He said softly, reaching for your arm to stop you. “Don’t do that, alright? Don’t shut down on him. He made a mistake. He probably does that a lot, huh?”

You snorted a small laugh.

“But he loves you. Anybody can see that and you have him back. You wanna be pissed off, be pissed off at someone who deserves it.”

“Someone like Billy?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Or the Russian bastard that’s messing with your kid.”

“She’s not my kid.” You shook your head with a small smile and started walking again.

“She’s got an attitude like you.” He joked.

“If she was my kid, she wouldn’t wanna run.” You defended. “And she wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.”

“We’re gonna get her out of it.”

“I know.”

The next morning, Dinah beat you back to the apartment. Your loose Columbia Law tee concealing your plated vest while your mask sat safely in your front pocket, two blades at your back and a handgun at the front of your waistband. When you walked in, it was a very tense argument. Amy was standing at kitchen island with the look of a deer caught in headlights. You raised your eyebrows in question and she pressed her lips into a line.

“…right back to my doorstep.” Dinah’s voice fell off. “And you.”

She glared in your direction.

“Who’s goddamn side are you on?”

“Talk to me like that again and you’ll be eating through a straw. I don’t give a damn about your title. You can’t have my badge, right?” You warned briskly. “Russo is a dead end until he decides to do something that catches attention. So long as he’s under the radar, I have other priorities.”

Her upper lip curled into a small snarl before she closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them, tears formed out of frustration. You simply shrugged, silently asking what she was going to do next.

She warned Frank to get out of the city and clean up his mess before she stormed out.

“You’ve got a big mouth, kid.” Frank sighed. “Gotta watch out for that.”

“You guys are welcome to come stay at mine.” You offered. “Especially considering I’m the one that told her we’d do something about Billy.”

“Seriously, Livia?” He groaned.

“Hey, I needed a lift to Ohio.” You reasoned. “But I never said it’d be immediate. Anyways, we should go check out that gym.”

After finding breakfast for the three of you, you and Frank headed out. You let him lead and it took you two to a rooftop across from the gym. You sat on the roof with your knees tucked up to your chest while you two quietly waited. It didn’t take long for Turk to make his way in.

You made a move forward when you saw one of the men wrap their arms around Turk‘s neck but Frank caught your arm. When you turned to look at him, he offered you a knowing look. You sighed to yourself and sat back, knowing Frank was right. Going in there to save Turk world blow everything, give away your anonymity.

Instead, you two went back to the apartment.

It was littered with shopping bags and takeout delivery. Frank lectured her when she revealed Dinah’s credit card after she handed each of you a bag. Frank continued his rant while you reached inside and pulled out a black hooded cloak with maroon trim. You laughed slightly and she smiled proudly at you.

“I’ve always had a flair for dramatics.” You joked with a shrug as you dropped the accessory back into the bag and received a glare from Frank. “I’ll pay Dinah back for it, relax.”

His rant was quickly cut short when he realized the pizza box on the far counter. You and Amy swapped small smiles as he went over, just before his phone rang. You helped him get it out and out it on speaker so you both could hear Turk’s call.

“Guys lying through his teeth.” Frank said simply.

“I’ve been thinking.” Amy began as she jumped on the counter.

You reached across Frank for a slice of pizza.

“None of the angles add up here.”

“How so?” Frank asked.

“That bar in Michigan, all those scary guys showed up like ten minutes after I talked to Konchevsky on the phone. So why didn’t he just come take care of me quietly by himself? And all those guys that showed up-“ She turned to you. “None of them were Russian.”

“So it wasn’t Konchevsky’s guys.” You confirmed. “Which means he’s probably dead and that means there trying to trap us.”

“Probably.” Frank nodded.

“And you’re still going?” She asked with wide eyes.

“It’ll be our trap.” He looked to you and you nodded.

“At least we know it’s coming.” You agreed and turned back to Amy. “But if something happens, you need to ask Dinah to help you get to Nel-“

“Stop it with that.” Frank cut in. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She needs a backup plan.” You said firmly. “They can-“

“They aren’t needed. And you’re the one who said you didn’t wanna put him at risk. Didn’t you say that?”

“We’re plan A but we need plan B and C and… You know how the alphabet works, right, Frank?”

“Your boys are plan Z.” He said firmly before pushing past you.

You blew out a sigh and gave Amy an apologetic look before you dropped into the now vacated chair. You pulled your phone and saw some text messages from Karen and Foggy. They asked how you were, as usual, and said they missed you. They loved you. They wished you’d text back.

You stared at the screen and wondered if you should text them back, warn them that you might need to send a kid their way. She would just need somewhere to lay low while you took care of it but her voice snapped you back to the present.

“Who’s him?” She asked softly.

“Hmm?” You raised your brows as you caught her gaze.

“The guy you don’t wanna risk… I saw the ring on the necklace the other day. Are you married?”

“Come back to me when you figure it out.” You patted her leg and stood to move towards Frank.

You crossed your arms and nodded to his arm.

“You either need to lose that or go to hospital and get it done right.” You said flatly. “Duct tape isn’t exactly a solution.”

“You got a blade?” He answered.

“Don’t I always?” You pulled your knife and he held out his wrist to you, allowing you to slide the blade under and cut through the makeshift covering.

“Looks like shit.” You said honestly as you put the blade away.

“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “C’mon.”

Without another word, you followed him out.

In the alley across from Kazan’s, you waited until the van of goons was loaded and on its way out before you two headed inside.

Your entrance drew everyone’s attention and the excitement buzzed through your muscles. You felt every set of eyes on you as you kept your gaze forward. You mentally counted every person you passed until someone finally spoke.

“I think you’re in the wrong place, my friends.” One of the men told you.

“Потому что это разрушает твои планы, верно?” You answered, a small smirk growing at the shock on his face. (Because it ruins your plans, right?)

“Wonder what’s waiting for us at Turk’s, huh?” Frank added as he casually glanced around the room. “What could that be?”

“What does the Punisher have to do with my business in Chicago, huh?” The man looked to you. “You kill Konchevsky?”

“No.” Frank answered while you shook your head. “Did you?”

“Dima is my nephew. I wouldn’t lay a hand on that boy.”

“Так кто же преследует девушку и фотографии?” (So who’s chasing the girl and the photographs?)

“Откуда мы знаем, что ты не та девушка?” (How do we know you’re not the girl?)

“Потому что мне не нужно было бы зовать на помощь.” You smiled and his eye narrowed. “Скажи мне, что ты знаешь, и я не буду перекрашивать спортзал твоей мужской кровью.” (Because I wouldn’t need to call for help. Tell me what you know and I don’t repaint the gym with your men’s blood.)

“I’m not the one who’s gonna be talking.” He said sharply.

He turned to one of the bigger men coming towards you and muttered that he wanted you two alive. You sighed to yourself and reached behind to double check your knives.

“Тогда давай.” You beckoned one of the men closer. (Come on, then.)

Clearly, your taunting pissed him off because he quickly moved in. Your fingers wrapped around the blade and you freed it from behind you. You ducked under his swinging arm and swiped your blade, a shallow split across his ribs.

You righted yourself as a second man stood in front of you and you quickly threw your foot against his chest. He stumbled backwards over a nearby bench and crashed to the floor.

A thick set of arms wrapped around your torso from behind and pinned your arms to your side. You flicked your knife downward and it buried into his foot but he only screamed in pain. Another man came up and landed heavy body shots, causing you to cough roughly as the haunting ache in your rib ignited and slowly started to burn up your side.

When the man in front of you came to hit you again, you tucked your knees to your chest and kicked out with all your strength. The impact sent you and the man pinning you into the squat rack behind and the barbell hit the center of his back, resulting in him dropping his hold on you.

You hit the platform with a thud but refused to stay down. You scrambled to yank your knife from his foot and then spun to your back and slammed your heel against his nose, effectively knocking him out while you put your knife away.

The two earlier men came at you again and hauled you to your feet. You fisted one of the men’s shirts before sticking your foot between his to take you all down. You dropped that shoulder so you flipped over one man and continued to roll until you had space. At that point, you saw Frank out the corner of your eye swing a dumbbell and it gave you an idea.

You moved quickly to pick up the nearest 25lb plate and used it as a shield at first, forcing the man to slam his fist against the heavy metal circle. You smiled slightly as he cried out before you swung the plate against the side of his head and he fell.

The last man came at you hard and fast. He grabbed the plate and forced you backwards until your shoulders hit a nearby barbell. That didn’t stop his pressure, forcing you to bend over it. You wanted to drop the plate but your grip and your push was the only thing keeping the metal from crushing your sternum. So you did the only thing you could do.

You reared back and slammed your forehead against his nose. The impact stunned him so you did it again and his pressure faltered. You pushed all your strength forward and drove him off you before you threw the plate to the side. You drew your knife in a quick motion and sent it flying, burying itself into his chest.

You took deep, scratchy breaths as you looked around to find only one man left standing. The biggest one and he was still locked in with Frank.

Your mind raced to come up with a plan but you only had two ideas, kill him or distract him. You mentally shrugged and decided it didn’t matter which so you moved.

Your arm hooked around his neck and you threw yourself into a half spin to throw him to his back and allow you to face him. Your hands planted flat on the ground and you kicked out with both feet, landing hard but allowing him to catch your feet.

You yelped slightly as he yanked you closer before a large hand was the base of your throat. He leaned a knee against your stomach so you couldn’t reach the other knife behind you. You coughed as you clawed at his wrist and forearm, looking for some sort of grip to try any maneuver that could get you out but you came up empty.

The edges of your vision blackened as you watched the man raise a hand above his head.

But he froze. The only movement was his eyes widening.

You smiled as you saw the yellow fog thickening around his hand and across his eyes. You still struggled to breathe but he was paralyzed with fear. You focused on the haze and willed it to move, to creep across his skin and travel down his throat. When he coughed, you smiled wider.

Frank came crashing a few seconds later and tackled the man off you, a small plate in hand that he began beating on the man with. You rolled to your side and coughed hard, forcing air in and out of your lungs. You held your ribs and you stood and grabbed the man you had originally talked to.

“I’m not your enemy.” He tried desperately as you grabbed two fistfuls of his jacket.

You yanked hard and threw the man to the ground, your foot on his chest. You let go of his jacket and pulled your gun, holding his face in one hand and pressed the barrel to his forehead with the other.

“The photos.” You said sharply, allowing your accent to soak your words. “Someone paid for them. Who?”

“They would kill me if I told.” He whined and the haze began to thicken, almost like he laid in a yellow puddle.

You shifted the gun and fired right beside his head, holding back the smirk as he flinched. You put the barrel back against his forehead before you spoke again.

“And I’ll kill you if you don’t.” You warned lowly and shifted your weight more against his chest.

“Poloznev. Nikolai Poloznev.”

“Where do I find him?”

“Try the internet.”

You offered a sarcastic expression before you slammed the butt of your gun down and he went limp.

“Жалко.” You muttered to yourself. (Pathetic.)

You stood and surveyed the fallen bodies. You blew some loose hair out of your face and Frank held his hand out to you. Looking down, you saw your blade in his hand, stained to the hilt with Russian blood.

Oddly poetic. Or maybe ironic was the better word.

Frank tapped your arm and nodded for you to head out. You were at the front desk where a plain zip up sat so you reached over and snagged it. You threw it on and zipped it to cover the blood on your shirt and arms. You flipped the hood and kept your head down as you walked.

You noticed Frank was careful to keep a few dozen feet of space between you two. You assumed to was to throw off anyone who could be looking for a duo but really, as time would prove, who stood a chance against Exodus and the Punisher?

Not William Rawlins. Not Billy Russo. Not whatever remained of Konchevsky’s men. And the preacher man would come to learn that too, should he come for Amy again.

Maybe she was your kid after all.

When you two got back to Dinah’s, Frank filled in Amy while you trashed the jacket and rinsed your hands in the kitchen sink.

“Yknow, when I was younger, Poloznev was a state policeman that was close to the president.” You explained as the memory rattled in your brain. “Dreykov worked with him a few times for our missions to go unseen.”

“Sounds like the same guy.” Amy added as you looked to see her with her laptop open. “Former Russian state policeman turned industrialist with interests in oil, gas, and shipping valued at several billion dollars. A friend of the Russian president with homes in several countries but currently resides in New York… So what now? Not sure this guy plays three card monte.”

“First, we get you guys out of here.” You explained. “Everything else can come later.”

Amy nodded and disappeared to collect her things.

“You need a hospital for that.” You gestured to his hand as you passed by.

“You need one for that.” He reached up and knocked his hand into your ribs, causing you to groan loudly.

“Bastard.”

“Right back at you, princess.”

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