#if this fuck wins I will end up on the news

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

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[artuurle]

Oooo it’s me the scary ghoul and totally not anyone in particular ooo. You should totally draw that gr meeting cobi comic idea you mentioned in my- I mean in somebody’s notes because it would be awesome oooooooo [scary ghoul nosies]

OH NO!!! I wonder what kind of scary ghoul would send this ask! I must warn Flick about ghoulies being on grujaja posts!! /silly /lh

For context: in the tags I discussed about How since in my headcanon Grujaja was taken to the grove young, he was most likely dropped off in buzzhuzz or Milldread since those places explicitly discussed having schools. I ended up choosing to place him in Milldread.

Of course the main issue of this being Grujaja would rather curl up into a ball and die than be anywhere bright and loud and well..... you know how schools can be. The easiest thing to do would be to run and hide somewhere quiet- but that just made everything worse.

There's a reason why he refused to step foot into the town after the god seemed to have gotten angry- we only see him at the edge of the town on the way to hobbyhoo.

Bonus Capo having to drop Grujaja off because i make that fucking guy suffer lol:

[aj-norizz]

Let Me Entertain You- Charles Leclerc x reader

Where the teammate girlfriend of Charles Leclerc thinks the new FIA swearing ban is awful. And when Charles crashes she decides to show the FIA how much she cares

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing (duh), Charles crashing

Drop a message to be on the tag list and please follow, like or repost guys ❤️

Back to Masterlist!

“Hey mon amour,” Charles piped up as you drove together, your hand unconsciously stroking Leo’s golden fur.

“Yes darling?” you replied.

“Have you seen the new swearing rule?”

“Of course i have…everybody on social media has been tagging me in it for the irony…”

“Are you going to abide by it?”

“You goody two shoes darling…am i fuck.”

“Point proven i suppose.”

“Ricky where’s Charles?” your name crackled statically through the radio.

“Second right now Y/N, pushing Max for first.”

“How far am i from Max?”

“Around 5 seconds. You’re too far to push for first but you should be able to hold third unless we need you to defend Charles’ second place.”

You sigh.

You were always used as a ploy for the constructors bid and Charles’ championship challenge.

Despite the fact the man was the love of your life you couldn’t help but know that even you had better chances of winning the championship this season then your boyfriend.

“All heard Ricky…”

You kept battling lap after lap.

You weren’t sure why Ricky had said you couldn’t push for first, there was still around 30 laps to go. You knew deep down inside though.

Ferrari and good team strategies didn’t mix well.

As you were racing past the main straight you noticed something glistening.

“Ricky…there’s some debris on the main straight…they need to stop the race before somebody runs it over.”

“Noted. We’ll see what we can do.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the main straight, staring at the front mirror.

“Ricky! For fucks sake when is the debris being moved? It’s a fucking front mirror as soon as that’s run over it destroys tires!”

There was no response for two minutes.

“Y/N the FIA have given you a penalty for foul and abusive language.”

What the fuck.

You switched your radio off with no intention to turn it on until the end of the race.

That was until you heard of a problem coming through from Ricky.

“What’s going on?!”

“Leclerc’s ran over the debris.”

“Charles…fuck’s sake…”

And then Ricky went deadly silent. Never a good sign.

“Ricky?”

“Y/N you can’t freak out.”

Your heart dropped.

You’d only ever been told that when you had found out Toro Rosso were dropping you.

And fine you had met Charles and become happier than you ever were with Horner but still, those words were never good.

Especially because they were so condescending.

“What is it?”

“Yellow flags, slow down.”

You instinctively slowed down as you passed by the area seeing a car fully in the barriers.

A red car.

“What the fuck! Ricky is that Charles?”

“Y/N-“

“Is it Charles?!”

“Yes…”

“Why are they not stopping the fucking race?!”

“Don’t do anything irrational.”

That was her last straw.

“Red flag! Red flag! Leclerc’s car is on fire!”

AJ parked up- not caring where she was. She saw the RedBull of Max Verstappen do the same ahead of her and the McLaren of Lando Norris behind her slowly grind to a halt.

The flames were blinding.

The 19 drivers all stood together on the grass, Lewis listening to coverage to try and hear the latest.

“From what we can hear the flames are tame and are only in the back of Leclerc’s car…but here’s the question. Where are the marshals and where are the FIA?”

You stood in silence.

“Max you know where the FIA office is the best…i need to pay a visit after the race.”

“Are you sure?-“

“Franco you’re so innocent man…” Max laughed. “AJ is more or less the reason the fucking stupid swearing ban got put in.”

“Oh shit!” Carlos yelled.

The fire had spread- engulfing the whole car.

No.

No.

Your first instinct was to lunge.

To rush to Charles’ car.

But Max’s grip was too hard to escape.

“Maxie! Max! Let me go! Let me go!” you screamed- a mixture of agony and annoyance coating your voice.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

And that’s when the FIA finally arrived.

Charles was pulled out of the car and that’s when Max let you go.

“Charles! Charlie!” you called out, hoping for some sort of response.

Silence.

You tried to follow the medial car but an FIA superior stopped her.

The fucking audacity.

You couldn’t wait for that media pen

You were waiting in the media pen when the first interviewer walked over with a slight smile.

“Miss Y/L/N. How do you feel about your penalty for swearing and the new introduction of the rule?”

“It’s fucking bullshit. This isn’t fucking Disney Channel- we are grown adults. If they’re so worried about us swearing in life or death situations then maybe they should invest more into the kids channel.”

“I see…and how is the team feeling about Charles’ crash?”

“We’re quite worried…i’m hoping to get all my media buries wrapped up quick enough so that i can go and see him wherever he is…hopefully the team will announce a statement as soon as we know…” you answered, a slight smile appearing on your face as you knew the interviewer had a script to follow but was also being as respectful as an interviewer can get.

“Well i won’t hold you for much longer…but any final message for the FIA?”

“If you think this new little rule will stop me from swearing then you can suck my hairy cock.”

The interviewer choked as you smirked and flaunted off- ready to see your boyfriend.

Charles laughed as you explained to him what had happened in the media pen as he slowly sat up in his hospital bed.

“You are crazy mon amour.”

“Crazy in love.”

“You are so corny.”

“That’s what you love about me,” you quipped with a smile.

“Who am i to deny that?”

“I was so worried Charlie…” you whispered as you softly rested your forehead against his.

“Oh mon amour…”

“I know Charlie…”

“Know?”

“I know you’re scared of the fire…”

You smirked as you walked into paddock, the media eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Over here!”

“A minute please!”

You just skipped past into the Ferrari garage.

Ricky smirked. “What a little performance you put on him?”

“I did do GCSE drama.”

“Grade 9?”

“Grade 8 actually but i was robbed-“

“The FIA are furious.”

“Let them be.”

She noticed the Netflix cameras zooming in on her and Ricky’s conversation especially after Charles wandered over, his arms engulfing your shoulders as he kissed your hair from behind.

“What are you going to do mon amour?”

“I’ll let them complain.”

Ricky laughed- a proper laugh.

“They want a statement.”

“A statement?” Charles echoed in confusion.

“I’ll give them a statement,” AJ laughed. “FIA, let me entertain you.”

“Yes?”

“If you stop my swearing i’ll stop my driving…i’m not 16 anymore…stop treating me like one.”

Charles smiled in pride.

“If they want to treat me like a child i’ll drive like a child.”

“Come on you two!” Fred called out, rushing them to get into the cats for quali.

AJ smiled as Charles wrapped his arm around you.

“Ready to put on a show mon cheri?”

“I’m always ready to entertain.”

[kkai-zen]

hi! may i request with aiku as ex bf?? what would he do to get our hearts back??? (he kinda the one who ask for breakup but he’s still missing us) <3 have a lovely day!!

hiii! thank you for your request, i absolutely LOVED writing this one so much! it has a tiny bit of angst and some fluff. it was such a blast to write, and i hope you enjoy! ₊˚⊹♡

⤷ call you mine! ⊹₊⟡⋆

──── wc: 1.1k

ex-bf!oliver aiku who breaks up with you over a fancy dinner, holding your hand lightly as he says, “Let’s break up.” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who watches you leave the restaurant with an expressionless face, your back disappearing out of the door into the rainy, cold night as tears bead on your lashes. He’s too busy for a relationship anyways, he thinks. You were only a distraction to him. This is for the best. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who’s spotted with some famous actress less than a week later, arm wrapped around her waist as he escorts her to some fancy, overpriced hotel—which is something you never experienced when you two were together.

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up in the news every now and then, and you find out that he’s had a new girl on his arm almost every week in the couple months following the break-up. Another actress, some rising singer-songwriter, a daughter of a wealthy CEO—he’s running through women faster than you can comprehend. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who puts on his trademark playboy bravado for the media, but can’t deny that there’s an empty hole slowly gnawing at his heart—a hole that your presence used to quietly occupy. It’s slowly breaking him down and he desperately tries to fill in the cracks with woman after woman, but it doesn’t matter. None of them are you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku drinks away the ache of loneliness every night, finally admitting that breaking up with you was a mistake. Hell, even his parents thought that breaking up with you was a mistake. He misses the way his jersey falls over your frame and the way you’d fall asleep with your head on his shoulder during long flights and the way you smiled and laughed when he cracked a joke and- fuck. He just missed you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku sends you drunk “I miss you” texts and sober “let’s talk,” ones, only for you to completely ignore them. He jumps at every text notification he gets (though he tries not to) only to be disappointed again and again when he realizes it wasn’t a text from you.

ex-bf!oliver aiku sees you for the first time after the break-up at one of his games—but why’re you cheering for the rival team? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku is consumed by jealousy when he sees you wearing someone else’s jersey. It drives him mad, and he completely crushes the other team, 4-0, as if he’s trying to prove something to you. When the final whistle is blown, he finds you all too easily in the crowd, satisfaction sparking in his stomach when he sees your pretty eyes fixed on him. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku tries to corner you after the game ends, running through the crowd, hand reaching out to tap your shoulder, only for you to slip away and vanish from his sight. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who should be celebrating his devastating win with his teammates is instead holed up in his apartment, drinking his feelings away. He shoots you a drunk “come over” text before passing out, holding his phone to his chest. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up at your door a week later, holding a bouquet of flowers in hand. You’re surprised; he never bought you flowers when you two were together, so why now? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who asks you, in a smooth, confident voice, “Let’s get dinner tonight.” only for you to reject him. You think about all the times he ignored your texts or forgot an anniversary or ditched a date to go drinking with his friends, and it’s more than enough for you to close the door in his face. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who, despite feeling a pang in his heart when the door shuts in front of him, shows up the next day, and the next, and the next, each time with a new expensive flower arrangement or luxurious self-care gift basket. You shut him down every time, but it doesn’t stop him from showing up the next day, gift in hand. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who starts asking you a question each time he shows up at your door: “What’s your go-to coffee order? What’re your favorite flowers? What styles of jewelry do you like?” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku slowly begins to change, popping up at your door in the chilly mornings to drop off your regular coffee order, and often stopping by in the evenings to hand you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers or jewelry that’s exactly your style.

ex-bf!oliver aiku does this for two months straight, surprising you with his presents and questions each time he appears at your door, and one day you finally bring yourself to ask him why he’s doing all this. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku, the one who’s usually brimming with confidence, is suddenly shy, his heterochrome eyes cast downwards staring at his feet. He’s silent for a moment, before saying:

“I know I should’ve treated you better. Really. Hell, I never even asked what your favorite flowers were. But I only realized that you put everything into loving me after you were gone, and I felt like shit because I know that I didn’t do the same for you even though you deserved it more than anyone else.”

He pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Drunk texts aside, I miss you. A lot. And I just want to show you that I care about you and am willing to put effort this—into us— if you’ll let me.” 

You’ve never seen the proud play-boy Oliver look so vulnerable, voice soft and back slightly hunched. Clutching the bunch of flowers he’d just brought you, you think for a moment that maybe—maybe, he’s changed. 

And it’s instinct that makes you lean up to his bowed head and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

When you pull away, his eyes are wide, jaw dropped halfway open. You give him a hint of a smile. “This weekend. Take me somewhere nice, ‘kay? And don’t be late this time.” 

Without another word, you slip inside, leaving Oliver stunned on your doorstep. 

boyfriend!oliver aiku who shows up outside your door 15 minutes before the arranged time, clean-shaven and dapper in a crisp suit, elegant bouquet of flowers in hand. When you step out of the door, you look so beautiful that for once, Oliver is nervous to take someone out for dinner.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who now brings you flowers on every date, never misses an anniversary, celebrates with you after every game, and never ignores your texts or calls.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who finally recognizes how happy he feels with you at his side, and knows that he’ll never let you go again. 

[sexhaver]

if your reaction to Musk pushing for more H1B visas is "wow the hitler salute guy accidentally did something good, this will be good for immigrants who get these visas" and not "hm, the richest guy on earth wants to expand a program that lets companies like his (and also literally his company in particular) hire immigrants in a way that gives the companies all the leverage and effectively stops those workers from exercising any of their labor rights (or even just switching to a better job) under threat of deportation, and he's also part of a White House that has been super vocally anti-immigration. perhaps there is some ulterior motive to this announcement and his proposed changes to the program that will result in these H1B immigrants getting taken advantage of" then you need to, idk, read the news more? stop taking fascists at face value? think about why fascists would support immigration specifically in the labor sector while physically blocking it everywhere else?

my issue with Musk proposing an expansion of the H1B program has not, and has never been, "competition" from immigrants. this job market is already horrendous, H1Bs are a drop in the bucket in that regard and anyone seriously mad that an immigrant "stole their job" is either racist or falling for racist propaganda. my issue is the opposite: if i and an H1B holder both get hired for the exact same job, they will be making a fraction of my salary (because of their immigrant status) with none of the protections against labor violations or even the ability to just walk away and work somewhere else (again, because of their immigrant status). they're doing the same work as me (better, actually, to qualify for a green card) and yet they're getting paid less and treated worse because they're an immigrant.

and in theory you can counter this with "okay but it's worth it for them to put up with that because after a few years they'll be a citizen and able to make the big bucks with labor protections too", but here's the thing: a fascist White House talking out one side of their mouth about issuing more H1Bs and making them cheaper, while simultaneously ranting about "closing the border" and sending Fox News teams out on ICE raids the day after inauguration, is not a White House that has any intention of letting these visa holders become citizens. big companies are overwhelmingly going to use these new H1Bs as a way to hire people, string them along for a while while underpaying and overworking them, and then find some reason to not give them a green card at the end of the process. formerly the incentive for companies not to do that was all the overhead fees associated with the H1B itself, but oh look, Musk wants to reduce those too.

like, yeah, i get it, the process of becoming a US citizen is a nightmare designed to be hostile and let in as few people as possible. the solution to that is absolutely not to let ELON FUCKING MUSK, the RICHEST MAN ON EARTH, rework + expand H1Bs. do you really trust him to handle that in a way that results in anyone but him and his friends winning. do you expect the average H1B holder experience to end in citizenship under Trump's administration. do you really.

[itsjaywalkers]

nada que perder

jegulus microfic (not really micro tho you guys know me lmao) | 3.4k | very questionable age gap (it's left ambiguous in this one but reg is 17 and james is . 31) (nothing actually happens between them but just in case), unrequited love (or is it..), loosely based in this spanish show i've been obsessed with lately

James climbs up the rusty stairs of the building as he rolls his shoulders lightly, in an attempt to get rid of the sense of unfamiliarity hanging off him. He supposes that he just needs some time to become used to the new place, but he spent years and years of his life coming over to Alphard’s old house. And besides, this flat isn’t exactly an upgrade from the little estate where the man had been living in less than a month ago. 

But, then again, this development is partly James’ fault, so he probably shouldn’t be sharing his opinion on the place, or the new neighbourhood for that matter. It’s already bad enough that he, Alphard and Frank have all been transferred to Orion’s station. Shitty flats and mildly dangerous neighbourhoods are the least of their worries. 

He rubs at his eyes, fingers slipping under his glasses, before he lets out a soft sigh. Honestly, this whole thing feels like a fucking joke. If it weren’t for Alphard and Frank, James would’ve already quit. Sure, he loves his job—most of the time, at least—but not enough to bear this kind of torture. He has to answer to Lucius Malfoy now, for fuck’s sake. The thought of it is almost enough to make him nauseous. 

James sighs one more time, and then he finally knocks on the door. He hears some shuffling inside nearly immediately, and some muffled yelling that drags a little smile out of him. 

The door opens less than twenty seconds later, James being greeted with a pair of steely eyes and tousled black curls. 

His grin widens. 

“Oh,” the boy mumbles, leaning against the doorframe. He doesn’t reciprocate James’ smile, but he visibly brightens, gaze turning soft around the edges. “Hi, James.”

“Hey,” James greets him back with a slight tilt of his head. “Is Regulus now, right?”

The boy nods, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah,” Regulus replies, suddenly sounding a little shy. He averts his eyes, and James has to bite his tongue to stop himself from poking fun at him. “You like it?”

“‘Course,” James says without missing a beat, and he truly means it. It took a bit to get used to, that’s why he refused to visit Alphard for a couple of weeks, until he was sure he wasn’t going to slip up. But he believes it suits the boy perfectly. “It’s really pretty.”

“You think so?” Regulus questions, staring up at James with big, shiny eyes. There’s a soft pink spreading all over his cheeks. 

“Absolutely. And I can still call you Reggie.”

“Always,” Regulus agrees with a tiny nod. The corners of his mouth twitch, and even though his lips don’t completely curl upwards, James still takes it as a win. “Do you want to come in?”

James chuckles gently. “That was kinda the plan, yes.”

The blush on Regulus’ face worsens, but then he’s stepping aside, turning his head away from James. Still, the tip of his ears are red, and all that colour seems to spread even down his neck and to his collarbones, which are peeking from his white shirt. Regulus doesn’t seem to be wearing anything apart from his briefs under them, so James assumes he must be getting ready for school.

“Where’s your uncle?” James asks as he begins to make his way down the hall before Regulus slides in front of him, halting his advances. 

“Why? Are you here to pick him up?” Regulus arches an eyebrow. James represses a snort at the way the boy has to crane his neck up to look him in the eye. He thinks Regulus might be trying to appear intimidating. 

“Yup. First day on the new station and all, figured it would be nice,” James says with a shrug. “Also, he’ll end up being late otherwise.” 

Regulus huffs. “That is if he even shows up.”

“Oh, he will. I’ll make sure of it, trust me.”

“Good. Andy will kill him otherwise.” 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t yet,” James admits, amused.

“She nearly did, when my uncle first dropped the news,” Regulus sighs, tucking a curl behind his ear. “She wasn’t very happy about moving. And seeing the flat definitely didn’t help.”

James clicks his tongue, eyes roaming briefly around the hall, and even though there isn’t much to see just yet, he understands Andromeda’s reluctance quite well. The walls are stained near the ceiling, and most of the paint is chipped. He catches sight of a box at the end of the hall, probably because they still haven’t had time to finish unpacking. The carpet looks old and worn-out and like it hasn’t been cleaned in years. James has to make an active effort to not turn his nose up at the sight of it.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” James mutters, avoiding Regulus’ eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. “It has a—a certain charm. It’s sort of, um, cosy? In a way? Yeah, ah, very cosy, and, and welcoming—”

Regulus lets out a little snort, but before it can develop into a proper laugh, the boy covers his mouth with a hand, pressing harshly and schooling his expression into something more serious. 

“Shut up,” Regulus murmurs, gaze downcast. James can only smirk at him, before he attempts to pull the boy’s hand away from his face. He doesn’t get far, because Regulus swats his fingers, but it’s worth it nonetheless, if only because of the roll of eyes and the tiny smile it earns him. “You’re not funny.”

“Really? Because you were laughing,” James teases him cheekily, crouching slightly to take a peek at his grin.

Regulus turns his face away, but James doesn’t miss the way his lips spread a little wider. 

“Barely,” the boy sniffs. “This place fucking sucks.” 

James feigns a gasp, clutching dramatically at his chest. “My god, Reggie,” James scolds him halfheartedly. “The mouth on you. What would your uncle say?”

“Please, my uncle is even worse,” Regulus scoffs. James can only chuckle under his breath because, well, yeah. Alphard swears even more than James, and that’s saying a lot. 

“Still. You used to be so proper with your words,” James points out, raising both eyebrows. “Such an obedient boy.”

“Well, not anymore,” Regulus retorts with a defiant raise of his chin. He’s still blushing, however, so it doesn’t have much of an effect. Not like Regulus could ever inspire in James anything apart from fondness. Maybe exasperation too, on occasion, because he does love to be difficult just for the sake of it. “I’m almost an adult now, you know.”

James snorts loudly, a furrow immediately appearing in Regulus’ brow. “Is that so?” 

“Are you mocking me?” Regulus inquires, voice tight, his mouth twisting into a pout. 

“Never.” James places a hand over his heart, shaking his head as he bites the inside of his cheek to keep his grin at bay. “It’s just—you’re barely seventeen, Reggie.”

“Like I said, almost an adult,” Regulus insists with a firm nod. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“And you know what that means, right, James?” 

Regulus’ expression shifts as he takes a step closer, until there’s nearly no space between their bodies. Regulus watches him from under his lashes, eyes wide and bright and puppy-like, the red on his cheeks still very much there, and James tenses up almost immediately. 

He considers stepping away, but ultimately decides against it. Showing any kind of reaction will only get Regulus’ hopes up, regardless of rejection. James must remain either indifferent or mildly amused. The boy will see anything else as a possible open, and James can’t have that. Not when they’ve been treading this very thin line for nearly a year. 

James had hoped that this… change, or discovery, or whatever Regulus prefers to call it, would help with his silly crush on James, but apparently coming out as a boy hasn’t diffused Regulus’ feelings. If anything, it only seems to have made him bolder. 

“Sure,” James replies, shrugging one shoulder, his tone casual. “It means you’re gonna be eighteen.”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, and James has to repress the sudden urge to coo and pinch his cheeks. 

He looks so disappointed. James hates to be the one to put that sort of expression on that adorable face, but he refuses to entertain his delusions, no matter how much he cares about him. 

“Yes,” Regulus agrees, stilted. “Legally an adult.”

“You’re always gonna be a kid in my eyes.”

Regulus’ frown becomes even more pronounced, and his pout comes back full force. James’ heart gives a painful flip at the sight, and he can’t help but hate himself a little because of it. 

“Anyways, are you gonna let me through, or…” James says, scratching at the side of his jaw, at his stubble. “No offence, Reggie, you know I love our chats, but—”

“In a moment,” Regulus mutters, squirming a little in place before he puffs out his chest and meets James’ gaze head on. “You haven’t greeted me properly.”

James blinks at him, and then raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure I said hi as soon as you opened the door—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Regulus protests, and for a second, James is convinced he’s going to stomp his foot. “It’s just—you’ve always been more affectionate, and I, I haven’t seen you in weeks, and because now I look like—like this, so different, then maybe—”

“Reggie, love, it has nothing to do with that, you hear me?” James cuts him off a bit more sharply than intended, one of his hands twitching with the need to reach out. “Nothing. You’re still the same to me, and the care and affection I feel for you—that’s never gonna change, okay?”

“Okay,” Regulus responds in a whisper, gaze so filled with adoration James nearly has to look away.

He sighs. “Fine, what do you want? A hug? You missed me that much, Reggie?”

“Yes, I did,” Regulus tells him without missing a beat, and James’ teasing smile falls slightly. He swallows. “And I was thinking about a kiss, actually.”

“Reg,” James says, the warning clear in his tone. 

“On the cheek!” Regulus rushes to clarify, blinking rapidly at him, all innocent and genuine. James knows better than to believe him, though. “You used to kiss me on the cheek constantly.”

“Yeah, when you were, like, fourteen—”

“Didn’t you say I’m always going to be a kid in your eyes? It shouldn’t make that much of a difference.”

“I guess, but—”

“Come on, Jamie,” Regulus insists, whiny and needy and so sweet, always so painfully sweet. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I know, Reggie, and I missed you too, I really did, but I’m just not sure if that’s a good idea—”

“Please,” Regulus murmurs, pressing even closer, to the point James can feel the warmth radiating from the boy’s body. Suddenly, he’s hyper aware of his state of undress, of the fact that he’s only wearing briefs under his school shirt.

James traps his lower lip between his teeth, and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the way Regulus follows the movement with his eyes, pupils dilating. 

He should refuse. James knows he should refuse. This madness has been going on for far too long, since Regulus was fifteen, and what James used to believe was sort of cute and natural, something that would pass on its own after a few months, has been growing to the point James feels like it’s getting out of his control. And now that Regulus seems to be feeling confident enough to do more than glance longingly at him and blush whenever James is close, he knows he ought to put a definite end to it. Nip the whole thing from the bud. Even if that means breaking Regulus’ heart. It’ll be better for him in the long run.

The problem is that James has never been good at denying Regulus anything. He��s always been his only weakness, and that hasn’t changed. James doesn’t think it ever will. 

“Okay,” James sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, but his mouth twitches helplessly when Regulus beams at him. “But only one,” he reminds the boy, raising a finger and pointing it at Regulus, who nods quickly. “And on the cheek. No games, Reggie, and I fucking mean that.”

“I swear,” Regulus assures him, nodding once more. He’s getting on his tiptoes a second later, and James exhales softly, staying put, allowing Regulus to go for it.

At first, Regulus does keep his word. He presses his lips softly to the high of James’ cheek, and automatically, not giving it much thought, James wraps an arm around Regulus’ waist, hand resting on the small of his back. He feels the boy’s smile against the side of his face.

Regulus lingers there for longer than necessary, but James indulges him, endlessly endeared. And besides, he did mean it when he said that he had missed Regulus. He adores the boy, and putting some distance between them wasn’t an easy choice. It’s been hard on James, too, even though he’s aware that he’s doing the right thing. Having Regulus in his arms once again feels good, and James wishes it could always be like this. Easy affection and sweet touches. 

James squeezes lightly and Regulus finally pulls away, a big smile taking all over his expression. However, he doesn’t go too far, and after looking at James for a couple of seconds, he dives in again, although this time, his mouth changes trajectory, the intentions behind the movement clear. 

He manages to avoid it at the last second, turning his head enough for Regulus’ lips to press against the corner of his mouth instead. James stiffens up, fingers spasming where they’re resting on Regulus’ back, on his waist. The scent of strawberries fills his senses, making James slightly dizzy, urging him to bury his nose in those lovely curls, to pull the boy even closer.

James makes sure to swat the idea away before it can take root, before his body can think of listening to it.  

“Regulus,” James hisses in warning. 

The boy giggles against his skin, but he obeys, stepping away, a mischievous grin curving his lips. James pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and wills himself not to yell. 

He still has his arms wrapped around Regulus.

“Oops,” the boy comments, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “My bad.”

“You can’t do that shit, Reg,” James tells him sternly, and yet, his voice doesn’t come off as angry as it probably should. “We’ve talked about this. You know better. Fuck, this isn’t—”

“Okay, okay,” Regulus huffs out, still smiling, raising his hands in mock surrender. He can be such a menace. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, yeah? I promise.”

“I’m not sure if I can trust you after what you just pulled—”

“Don’t be a baby, Jamie, it was nothing—”

“You and I both know it’s not so simple—”

“Regulus!” a voice exclaims from somewhere behind the boy. Andromeda. “Who is it!?”

“It’s just James!” he answers in the same tone.

James lets go of Regulus as if burnt, and he also takes a few steps away from him, just in case, his heartbeat quickening to the point he can hear it rumbling inside his head. Regulus watches him with his head tilted to the side, blinking at him with feigned confusion. 

He squints his eyes at the boy, his jaw clenched, but before he gets the chance to open his mouth, Andromeda’s head is poking out from the end of the hall, smile pulling wide at his lips the moment her eyes settle on James. 

James forces himself to reciprocate the gesture, swallowing back down the bile that tries to climb up his throat. 

“What are you doing, standing there like an idiot?” she huffs out, visibly amused. “Come in! I bet you haven’t had any breakfast yet.”

“I had a coffee,” James argues, adjusting his belt and the holster attached to it. “And a fag.”

“Typical,” Andromeda scoffs. “Luckily for you, there’s more than enough food for you too. I had a feeling you were gonna be here today.”

“You know me too well.”

“That, and Alphard has been whining all morning about how he refuses to go to work.”

James lets out a resigned sigh. “Figures. Don’t worry, Andy, I’ll drag his stubborn ass to the station myself.”

“Good,” she chuckles, and then he’s focusing on Regulus, his expression shifting into something more serious. “And you, go get dressed! It’s nearly eight already, you’re gonna be late at this rate and you haven’t even finished your breakfast yet.”

“Fine,” Regulus groans, rolling his eyes so hard his head tilts back. He turns around, beginning to make his way towards his cousin, but not without throwing one last glance at James over his shoulders, giving him a cheeky smile. 

“Hurry up,” Andromeda urges him, swatting him with the cloth she’s holding when Regulus walks past her. “If we get another call about your tardiness you’re gonna be grounded for a bloody month.”

“But I already missed the bus,” Regulus complains. “I’m gonna have to walk again—”

“Fuck, Regulus, you’re a mess.” Andromeda shuts her eyes briefly, massaging her temples. “This is why you should’ve agreed to leave with Sirius, he could’ve given you a ride—”

“Over my dead body,” Regulus snarls, hands curling into fists.

Andromeda clicks her tongue, and James arches an eyebrow at her, the question clear in the gesture. 

“They’re currently not speaking to each other,” she explains, deadpan. “Again.” 

James isn’t quick enough to suppress a snort, and he has to purse his lips to keep more from coming when Regulus turns to scowl at him. 

“What happened this time?” he asks her, despite all his attention being on Regulus.

“None of your fucking business,” Regulus snaps as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Sirius is just being a prick, is all.”

“Language,” Andromeda scolds him, but it’s weak, half-hearted. She focuses on James a second later, and she seems to light up a little.  “Oi, James, could you drive Reg and Tonks to school? Please?”

Regulus visibly perks up at this, and he gives James a pleading look, the puppy-like kind, the one James has always been unable to resist. 

“Uh,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, avoiding both Regulus and Andromeda’s gazes. “I don’t know, Andy, it’s the first day on the new job, and me and the guys can’t afford to—”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Andromeda insists. “Reg won’t make it in time otherwise, and he can’t afford to be late again. And Ted can’t drop Tonks off at school today, he had to leave early for a meeting—”

“Fine, fine, okay!” James interrupts her, cursing himself internally. “But we need to leave in ten, yeah?”

“Thank you!” Andromeda says, rushing down the hall to hug James so tightly he swears his ribs crack. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Honestly, what would we do without you?”

“I ask myself that question every morning,” James huffs with a shake of his head. He raises his head, gazing at Regulus over Andromeda’s shoulder. “C’mon, Reggie, go get ready. And bring Tonks too.”

Regulus nods, and the grin he offers James rivals the goddamn sun. “You’re the best, Jamie.” 

He disappears around the corner right after, and James feels a pull at his stomach he attributes to its emptiness. Perhaps Andromeda, with all her nagging, is right. She does tend to be, after all. 

“I owe you one,” she sighs, pulling away. She squeezes James’ arms gently, smiling up at him, and then she’s grabbing him by the wrist and pulling, dragging him with her down the hall. “Now let’s get you something to eat, you have time for some toast before you leave.”

“Don’t be silly, you don’t owe me shit. You never do. I’m happy to help, Andy. You’re family. All of you are,” James tells her honestly, barely repressing a wince. “I won’t say no to some toast, though,” he adds a bit cheekily. 

Andromeda throws her head back and laughs, and all of James’ worries vanish with the sound. 

Or at least, the ones that don’t concern a certain black-haired boy do.

[plaidpajamallama]

(You scared me) RHEA RIPLEY X JEY USO

Chapter 25

_________________________________________________

Rhea was sitting in the passenger seat of the rental car. Damian got they were on their way to the Intuit Dome.

The music from her playlist blasting over the radio as she stared out the window

She felt nervous about what the day would bring.

This was her last shot at her title; if she lost this, then it was over. It was Liv’s, and she would have to move on and accept it.

She turned to Damian. You think I can do it?

He turned down the music, looking over at her. Yeah, you're going to win.

And if I don’t?

And if you don’t, then you find something else, something better. There’s a whole new title to go after; there’s Tiffy the Rumble. Besides, you never needed a title to be the best; you just are the best. Rhea

She grabbed his arm, laying her head against it. Thank you.

No problem. For the record, you're going to win.

She sighed. It’s going to be a long day.

Yeah, it is, but I don't have anything to do, so if you need me—

I’ll come find you, she cut in.

Thank you, and please don’t just run off after your match with Jey.

I won’t. She chuckled, letting go of his arm. I don’t think there will be any running off tonight.

He looked at her with a confused expression. What happened? What did he do?

Nothing; he didn’t do anything! She said quickly. He’s just got a lot going on with Roman right now, so we’ll see what happens tonight.

She sank into her seat, resting her head against the window. She was a little worried about what might happen; this whole day could end horribly.

Not just could she lose her final shot at what was rightfully hers; she knew she took the first shot at Liv, but Liv took more than was fair, and now this was the end. What happens happens if she lost; it was over, and if she won, she was finally done with all of it.

Then on the other side she had to worry about Jey.

Not just in his match; she believed in him. He could handle Drew; she knew Drew pretty well from when he helped them out in war games.

She would bet good money on Drew letting his emotions get the best of him.

But then she could say the same for Jey; there was a lot on his mind right now.

She wasn’t sure when they would talk to Roman, but if that was anytime before his match, whatever Roman says will affect him in the ring.

She kept making up different scenarios in her head of how this whole thing might go.

She knew some of the things Roman did, but she didn’t know the full extent of said things until she got with Jey, and he told her.

He never said it exactly, but just the way he spoke told her enough about what happened when he was in the bloodline.

This was eating at him, and she couldn’t help but feel a little responsible.

none of this would’ve happened if she didn’t make some big deal out of it If she didn’t pick a fight with him about him not fucking talking to her, then they wouldn’t be here. Jey wouldn’t be going through all of this right now.

She let out a sigh, her breath fogging up the window.

God, she shouldn’t blame herself; if she told him any of that, he would be even more upset that she ever thought, even for a minute, that it was her fault.

She heard the music stop, and all of a sudden, she picked her head up off the window.

The screen on the dashboard lit up with a text from Jey saying they made it to the arena.

He slid his phone back in his pocket as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk before slamming it down.

He told Roman that they needed to talk sometime before he left.

He had gotten there a little early since he had to do something before the actual show along with the normal thing he always had to do.

This day wasn’t all bad, though he not only was going to beat Drew’s ass, he also got the opportunity to walk out with Travis Scott.

So if shit went bad with Roman, at least he had that to look forward to, and he means Rhea winning what was hers, of course.

He pushed through the back doors of the arena. Waving at the security guards standing out front as he passed

He was excited for Rhea; she had this one. There was no doubt in his mind she was going to walk out tonight empty-handed. He had no doubt in Roman winning either; he believed in Solo; he was going to give him a run for his money. for sure

But Roman was going to win, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Solo may not have been the best, but he surely was as bad as Roman.

Everyone in Solo’s bloodline was there because they wanted to be, not because they were forced to be.

Roman has been drunk on power ever since he got it. Before he got it, he was now getting humble. He thought about all the time Roman got knocked on his ass while he walked down the long hallway.

Rhea was sitting with her eyes closed as she got her makeup done.

As the show got closer and closer, she could feel her nerves creeping up but also her adrenaline

If this really was the end, she was going to fight like hell to win. If Dom and Raquel felt the need to intervene, then she would take care of them to

Nothing or nobody was going to stop her from winning tonight.

Hey, babygirl, it’s good to finally see you. He sat down at one of the vanities along the wall.

She smiled. I wish I could see you.

You look beautiful, Mama.

And I’m not even done yet. Claire chimed in.

Don’t feed his crazy

It’s not crazy if it’s true; you're beautiful, right?

Oh yes, you look beautiful, and you will only get more beautiful from here.

She laughed at both of them. Do you need something, love?

I just wanted to see you. I've been busy; I had to work the red carpet. You know he popped his collar.

Oh! I know, and I don’t know if I appreciate you showing everybody what’s mine.

People see all that all the time; it ain’t new. Now all that other shit, yes, it’s yours.

As long as you know it, I would hate to have to show you, she said sultrily.

She smiled to herself when she heard him get quiet; she could feel Claire smiling back at her.

This wasn’t the worst thing she had overheard in these chairs; shit, this wasn’t the worst thing she had even seen in these chairs.

She heard him clear his throat as he stood up.

The devil is a lie, he said before walking by her.

She grabbed his hand. Hey, when do you need me? She said gently.

Um, after you get done here, if that’s cool?

Yeah, of course, I’ll come find you. She brought his hand up, placing a kiss on it.

See you in a bit, Mama, he said, walking away.

I think I like him more than Dom. He’s much better to look at, that’s for sure.

She laughed, Ooh, by a long shot.

Ok, now stay still so I can finish.

It didn’t take long for Claire to finish her makeup. A purple look with a black lip, as always. She already had on her gear, so she just needed to get her hair done, but she would do that after everything with Jey.

She met him outside the man’s locker before walking to Roman’s

She checked with him one last time if he wanted her there before they made it; he told her he wanted her there before knocking on the door. Heyman answered the door and let them in.

As soon as they walked in, the air was thick with tension. Roman was sitting back in his chair, manspreading, rubbing his wrist in his hand.

He had on his ring gear along with his gloves.

She had seen him before, but in this light he was even more intimidating than he was in the ring.

They sat down on the couch, his hand letting go of hers as he clasped his together.

Heyman sat down on the couch on the side closest to Roman.

She had forgotten how loyal he was to him; he found it a little weird then, and she still found it weird now.

So what do you want? Roman seemed already tired of this conversation.

Why lie if you already know about us, uce?

Because you wanted to tell me, so I let you.

He sucked his teeth. You let me?

Yeah, you made a big deal about telling me, so I let you

You could have told me after I told you.

Maybe I was, but you ran away.

He scoffed, I ran away? I walked away because you were being an asshole, uce.

He scowled. Jay I told you I don’t care about all this he gestured between him and Rhea. I was just looking out for you.

Looking out for what? You haven't been here. What were you going to do, uce? You haven't even been here to handle your business, he said, annoyed.

Roman sat up in his chair, leaning forward, his arms hanging off his knees.

See, Jey, you always get caught up in your emotions.

He scoffed, Here we fucking go, he muffled under his breath.

This isn’t about you and her; it’s about business.

What fucking business!? I don’t work with your ass anymore; you don’t get to decide what I do! I’m a grown ass man; I can do whatever I want!

You don’t act like one, Roman said weirdly calm. You don’t get it, do you, Jey? Everything I do is to take care of you.

Bullshit!

He ran a hand over his chin, letting out a frustrated sigh. You can think whatever you want, but that's the truth: the Wiseman only looked into the her for you.

I didn’t ask your ass to do that shit, uce!

Roman looked him dead in his eyes because that's what family does, Jey; they try to help each other even when they don’t want it.

He ran his hand over his face. There you go with your bullshit again, Uce, he said as he stood up.

Roman stood up to meet him; he didn’t say anything, just looked at him, and that’s all it took before he started to avoid his gaze, finding anything else to look at.

I was just looking out for you, Jey. I just wanted to make sure you were happy, but all you want to do is fight. I’m fighting for this family. In 20 minutes, we both agreed that Solo can’t do that yet.

He’s not ready, he said softly, but maybe one day you’ll be ready. But if you keep acting like a goddamn child and picking fights, you won’t be, so get it together! He didn’t yell or raise his voice; he kept his voice soft and calm, but the bass in it hit him in his chest.

I don’t want to see you until you beat Drew, and if you lose, I don’t want to see you at all.

He shoved him back, his heels hitting the front of the couch.

He didn’t respond, just nodded before storming out the door, hitting the wall behind it.

Rhea stood up to walk out after him, but Roman stopped her, putting his arm across the doorway.

She looked up at him in his eyes. Move She said confidently, which seemed to catch him a bit off guard.

He eyed her down before moving his arm out of her way.

She walked out mumbling under her breath, as she did so, she walked down the hallway looking for Jey. She found him sitting on a crate with his head in his hands.

Baby, she put her hand on his back. She was about to ask if he was okay, but she already knew the answer to that question.

Baby, it’s fine.

He let out a breath through his hands. No, it’s not. I let him get to me, and now

Don’t worry about that, my love; just focus on Drew. That’s all you have to worry about tonight.

She bent down in front of him, putting her hand on his knee. Okay?

He’s moved his hands away from his face, looking down at her. I just need a minute, Mama.

Okay, I have to go get ready for my match. It’s after his, so I’ll probably see you after yours.

Okay, he kissed the top of her head before she stood up, walking away.

He let out a deep breath, falling back against the wall.

He couldn’t believe he let Roman get to him like that; it brought him right back to all the times before when he had put him in his place.

But now he was on the same level as him. Shit, he let him walk out last at war games.

But he so quickly brought him down back to the level he thought he belonged at.

It was funny, actually, that he thought they could have a normal conversation.

He was so damn confused why he was making such a big deal out of this for no fucking reason.

It’s not like he told him to sit down and have a talk with her, but he wanted to bring her around without it being weird, but maybe he was asking for too much.

He cleared his throat, hopping off the crate. He needed to get started getting ready for his match, and sitting around thinking about Roman wasn’t going to do that.

_________________________________________________

Rhea ran to go find Damian; she finally got her baby back, and she was over the moon.

It didn’t take long for her to find Damian; he was coming to find her as well.

She jumped up into his arms, her title hitting against his back.

So many emotions were running through her right now: happiness, sadness, just a mix of emotions.

I knew you could do it, he said, wrapping his arms around her to hold her up.

She could feel tears welling up in the corner of her eyes, tears of happiness.

She couldn’t believe it that she was finally champion again, that the title was hers; she wasn’t just holding it because Liv dropped it.

It was hers, actually hers; it was in its rightful place, and it was never gonna leave her again.

She hopped down, feeling off balance; her legs felt like they were going to buckle at any moment.

Damian grabbed her by her shoulders. You good?

Yeah, I think I’m just in shock, she said with a nervous giggle.

Ok, here, sit down. They moved to the side of the wall. She slid down the wall, sitting on the floor.

He sat down next to her, putting his hand on her knee.

You see me out there? You see my new friend?

She said teasing him

You are never going to not rub that in my face, huh?

Nope, because I meet the Undertaker, she said in a sing-songy voice.

I hate you, he said, shoving her away.

She playfully scoffed. No, you love me, and soon enough we’re both going to have gold again.

She stood up off the ground. But for now you can hold mine if you want to fill the void.

I hope they lose your nameplates. He said, standing off the ground.

Oh wow, and I was going to let you do an interview with me, but

Oh come on, we’re going to be late, or do you want to go see Jey first?

No, he’s already set for his entrance. I’ll see him after his match.

Alright then, come on.

Jey walked through the curtains out of gorilla

He beat Drew; all that was behind him now.

He handled it just like he was supposed to.

He walked through the halls looking for where Rhea was.

He thought about going to see Roman, but that thought left his mind as fast as it came.

He found her with Damian, standing in front of a TV; she was bouncing off the walls.

Jumping up and down as the replay played on the screen

He sneaked up behind her, grabbing her waist, feeling the cold metal of her title under his hands.

She giggled, Hi, baby.

Hey, babygirl, you like my match? He asked with a smirk.

No! She hit him in his arm. You scared me half to death!

Okay, okay! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you, Mama. I’m good, alright?

Ok, just don’t do it again.

I won’t. He turned his attention to Damian. Sup, Uce? How you been? He said dapping him up

Good, just keeping an eye on this one, he ruffled her hair.

She pushed his hand off of her head. I don’t need you to keep an eye on me.

Alright, you did good out there, man.

Thanks, Uce, finally starting to put all this shit behind me.

I'm going to put this whole thing with Finn to rest next week.

Look at that; we're all moving on to better things. Rhea chimed in, Who would have thought, huh? She smiled.

Speaking on moving on, he said, Looking at Damian, give us a minute, Uce.

Yeah, see you guys in a bit, and please remember you both are on the press show, he yelled as he walked away, making her laugh.

Yeah, yeah, he said, waving him off.

He turned his attention back to her. You look good with that title, babygirl.

It should. That’s where it belongs, love.

I like my woman with gold. He said, his hands wrapping around her waist.

Mmm, we still have work to do, baby.

So fuck the press conference.

I thought you were going to enter in the rumble tonight?

I can do that next week on Raw.

Or you can do it when you’re supposed to, or are you that needy baby?

He felt a shiver down his spine as her words left her mouth; she had a smirk on her face as she moved her hands to his waistband, pulling him closer. Do you need Mami that bad baby? Or can you wait like a good boy? She said with a pout.

He felt his pants becoming tighter as she slipped her fingertips into his waistband.

I’ll wait, he said, stumbling over his words.

She raised her eyebrow, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

He leaned closer to her, just inches above her ear. I can wait like a good boy.

His pants definitely felt tighter now he lifted his head up.

She had a pleased grin on her face. See, baby, you always make this so hard, she said with a giggle, sliding from under him and grabbing his hand.

Now let’s go find a place to watch the end of the show.

Damn you, you aren’t going to give me a second girl all that shit you just pulled.

You started it, baby, and I’ll finish it later, but for now we have shit to do, so come on, she said, pulling him down the hall to where Damian went.

Fine, fine, but can we stop by the locker room right quick, though?

Sure, whatever, baby.

Jey slid the keycard into the lock, throwing the door open, not caring where their suitcases went.

as they stumbled into their hotel room, their lips crashing into each other

He closed the door with his foot; the light from the hallway disappeared, leaving them in the dark.

His hands grabbed at her waist, her title still around it; she pulled off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Her hands roamed his body, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went.

He pushed her up against the wall, beginning to take off her shirt; he tossed it on the floor before kissing and biting at her neck, pulling a moan out of her. She flipped him around, holding him against the wall.

They both took this opportunity to catch their breath, just the look of lust in their eyes.

Damn, babygirl, what you trying to do? he said in between his breaths

Mmm, I have a couple of things in mind. She said with a grin, moving her knee between his legs, pushing it against him.

Fuck Mami! his head hit the wall, his now aching cock trapped under her knee

You have been so needy lately, and I don’t know why, baby. Her knee pressing harder against his cock

Shit, he said breathlessly, slightly bucking his hips.

God, baby, people would think I have touched you in weeks with the way you're acting.

Mami I didn’t mean to—his words died in his mouth as he saw the look on her face.

I want you to take your pants off and go sit on the bed while I do something.

He said, "Okay, letting a whimper leave his lips as she took her knee away, turned around to get her suitcase, but realized they were still in the dark. And get the light too, love.

She heard a click before yellow light filled their hotel suite. She chuckled seeing their suitcases just thrown in front of the door.

She rolled them into the living area in front of the coffee table, laying hers on the floor and unzipping it as she heard his shoes hit the ground.

She slipped off her shoes, then took off her pants, leaving her in just her bra and panties, her title hanging low on her hips.

She walked around the room diviner seeing Jey lying on the bed with his hands under his head, watching TV in just his boxer briefs.

She leaned against the column of the diviner, her hands behind her back, eyeing his body as he lay there, her eyes tracing over him.

His skin shined under the yellow light from the lamp on the nightstand.

She could see a few faint marks on his chest that were later turned into bruises. If she didn’t know his body so well, they would go unnoticed due to all his tattoos covering his body.

She loved the way they looked; she followed them down the sides of his waist to the top of his underwear. There was a visual bulge in his boxers; they were high up on his thighs, showing off the rest of his tattoos. his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the ground

His eyes finally flickered over to her, the air getting trapped in his throat.

She sauntered over to the bed, swinging her hips.

You turned on the TV?

Didn’t know how long you were going to be

She crawled onto the bed.

Mmm, you look real good with that gold mama.

Thank you, she giggled, throwing her leg over his hip, straddling

Her fingers ran against his skin, giving him goosebumps as she leaned forward, kissing him.

Moving down his jawline and neck, leaving marks along them

Fuck, the cold metal pressed against his skin as she moved down his body; he winced as her hand touched his rib, subconsciously pulling away from her touch. Shit baby

Sorry, I didn’t mean to love you. Are you hurt? She sat up, her hands resting on her thighs.

No, I mean, yeah, but I’m not injured or shit.

But you are hurting? She said, eyeing the marks on his chest.

Yeah, just that spot, though these are just marks he gestured at himself.

So you’re ok? She said with a worried look.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her back over him, just inches away from his face. I’m okay, Mama. Do you still want to do this?

Yeah, I just didn’t want to hurt you.

You won’t Rhea. He said, hooking his finger under her chin, pulling her into a deep kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth, making him groan into her mouth.

She grinded down on him, feeling him through the layers of cotton between them; she could feel the warmth between her thighs growing with each groan and moan that left them.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her down against him. She reached her hands behind his head into his hair.

You want me to take it off? He said, breaking their kiss, his hands going up her back.

Go ahead, she said, kissing and marking his neck.

He unhooked her bra. His fingers grazed her hot skin as he pulled down her bra straps, throwing it to the side.

God baby, you're so beautiful. his hands cupped her breast, causing the air in her throat to get stuck

She gave in to his touch, his big hands kneading her breast, his rough palms brushing against her hard nipples.

Her moans vibrated against his collarbone, going straight to his dick as he played with her

He moved his hands down to her hips under the leather strap of her title, grabbing her ass.

She pushed back into them. Take them off, baby. Fuck Mami, he groaned as she brushed against his hard, trapped cock.

She giggled as she brushed up against him again. I love those little sounds you make, baby.

He slipped her panties down her thighs, throwing them on the floor.

The cold air hitting her dripping pussy, she held herself up with one hand, using the other to tug down his boxers, his cock popping out over the waistband, falling against his stomach.

Oh, but I’m needy, he grinned.

She smacked her teeth. Shut up; she raised her hips up, lining him up with her, his tip rubbing against her cunt.

He threw his head back, feeling her warmth drawing him in, but she just held him there.

Mmm, Mami he said, coming out like a whine

Tell me what you want, baby.

Fuck I want you please right there, Mami, please, please, please.

She slowly sat down, throwing her head back at the feeling of herself stretching around him.

Shit, baby, you're so fucking tight.

She took all of his length inside her; she always forgot how big he was until she had to take him, feeling him deep in her gut.

She put her hands on his chest as she began to move her hips, both of them moaning at the new sensation.

Fuck Mami! He grabbed her thighs, his nails digging into her skin.

She leaned forward, her hands next to his head.

God, baby, you fill Mami up so well, you feel so good; she felt his cock twitch at her praise.

You're such a little praise slut, baby, she said with a grin. You would do anything I asked if I told you you were a good boy, wouldn’t you?

His nails dug into her skin deeper; his face contoured, his mouth fell open, but no words fell from it, just broken babbles.

God baby, I wish you could see yourself; you look amazing like this.

Every word that left her mouth was fuel to the fire; he couldn’t even think of the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room as she moved her hips up and down.

He moved his hands up her waist, grabbing onto her title, his thumbs sliding under her title, touching her burning skin, his fingertips brushing against something.

Holy shit, baby! He shouted with one hand on her stomach and the other on her title.

She giggled, pushing her hair out of her face. I told you you were a big baby; she arched her back down. So big you almost split me in half the first time she whispered in his ear.

Fuck Mami, please, he moaned.

What love? She nipping at his ear

He sighed, Mami, come on.

Oh baby, if you can be needy, you can beg, so let me hear that beautiful needy voice of yours.

He threw his head back. Fuck Mami, please, just please

You can do better, love. Come on.

He groaned. Please, please let me cum. Mami, I’ll be good, so, so good, please. He gripped her hips tighter.

She felt the warmth in her stomach growing, her movements growing faster. Keep going, baby.

Please, please, I’ll listen. I’ll... I’ll fuck! Just please, Mami, I can’t. It’s shit! His words turned into a moan as she squeezed around him, her body shuddering as her orgasm rips through her. His following a second after

She fell down onto her elbows trying to catch her breath.

He brought his hand up onto her hair, pushing it out of her face. You good? He said in between breaths

Yeah, just need a sec.

He unclipped her title, pulling it out from under her, letting it fall to the floor. Here is that better?

Yeah, thank you. She kissed his cheek before raising up off of him with a gasp, lying down next to him.

What the fuck are we watching? She laughed.

I don’t know; I haven't really been paying attention like that, babygirl, he chuckled, standing up. I’ll be right back.

Ok, will you get me some water?

Yeah, of course.

He walked into the bathroom, grabbing a towel, wiping himself off, and catching a look in the mirror.

His chest was covered in marks along with his neck. Damn, babygirl, you fucked me up!

He flicked off the light walking into the kitchen. He set the cup down on the TV stand before crawling back on the bed in front of her.

We should really start putting a towel down or something.

Yeah, we should, but will we?

Not a chance. He stood back off the bed, grabbing her cup. Here, babygirl

She sat up. Thank you.

You want to take a shower?

No, I will take a bath, though my body's still sore.

Ok, I’ll draw us one where he kissed her forehead before walking away.

They sat in the triangle-shaped tub, both at different points. bubbles covering them

Don’t think I have taken a hot bath in years. Jey said his arms were lying on the sides of the tub.

It’s nice, plus I’m in it, so it helps her smile, her foot popping out above the water.

That does help, so what are you going to do now?

I don’t know. I’ve been chasing Liv’s ass for so long I don’t really know what’s next. I guess whatever comes my way. What about you? Who are you going to from when you win the rumble?

Don’t know shit; I might not even win.

She playfully scoffed. She splashed him in the face.

Girl! He turned his head to the side.

You’re gonna win!

Okay, damn girl.

Jay I’m serious; you're going to win. Don’t doubt yourself.

It’s not doubt; it’s just I don’t know, maybe it’s doubt. He rubbed the back of his neck.

You're gonna win, baby. I would bet good money on that shit; I would put my title on the line for that.

Ok, don’t be crazy, Rhea. You just got that shit back; don’t risk it.

I’m not. I’m just saying if you act like you already lost, then you're going to lose.

I know, I know.

So say it, say you're gonna win.

Are you serious?

Dead, she said, straight-faced.

He chuckled, Really?

Come on, what you got? She nudged him with her foot.

I’m going to win the rumble. he said halfheartedly

Oh come on, you can do better; you just did a whole lot better. She said, her mouth curling into a grin.

I’m going to win the rumble, he said this time with more confidence but still not good enough.

Aw, it’s cute that you call that conviction, and you were a heel for years.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. I’m gonna win the fucking rumble and beat both Cody and Gunther’s asses this time, saying it like he believed it this time.

See, I knew you had it in you.

He sucked his teeth. Girl, get on; he playfully pushed her back down.

She laughed settling back down against the edge of the tub Baby, can we talk about this morning?

He sighed, his body tensed up. I don’t wanna talk about that shit.

Jey, if I knew that would’ve happened, I wouldn’t have told you to talk to him; I would’ve dropped it immediately. She sat up, putting her hand over his.

It’s not your fault, babygirl; he’s just like that.

I know just I wouldn’t have pushed you—

You didn’t push me to do shit, Rhea. He shifted, running his hand over his face. I wanted to talk to him; I just needed a little help to get there. I told you Roman was an asshole.

Jey, that’s not just him being an asshole; that’s-

I know what it is; his eyes flickered away from hers. I know what it’s called; he hung his head.

Then why take it? She moved forward, his knees in between her legs. Why put up with it?

Because he’s family, and if you don’t, it’s worse than what you saw—his voice cracking just a little, or you’re out of the family.

She grabbed his hand. My love

Seeing all that happened today showed her why Jey acted the way he did, why he would shut down, why he was so scared to lose her, and why he never wanted to talk to Roman or get involved with the bloodline again in the first place.

It was all trauma. Roman broke him and then put him back together the way he wanted.

My love It’s ok; I got you.

I know he put his hand over hers, gripping it tight.

I will never let Roman hurt you like that again, ok?

You can’t make promises like that, Rhea. he said, shaking his head

Yes, I can, because I mean it. She lifted his head up to look at her; there were tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. I will never let anything happen to you, my love.

He looked like he believed it, but the look behind his eyes looked like he didn’t want to trust it.

She brushed his hair out of his face. I love you, and I will always be here for you no matter what. You will never lose me. Do you understand me?

He nodded his head in response. Come here.

He said almost as a whisper, he moved his legs, making space for her.

She moved, sitting with her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close; she could feel his breath was a little shaky.

She knew his mind was racing; she rubbed his arm, her head falling against his shoulder.

I love you too.

_________________________________________________

Woo this one is long but I think it’s well deserved since it was the first raw on Netflix

Also i hate to say it but the next chapter will sadly be the end of their story (who knows what will happen down the line) I will probably do a one shot here or there but as a series this is the end I hope y’all still rock with me after this is over 🖤

[notsofrozt]

Bingliushen fic recs in no particular order (buckle up this is going to be long):

Shen Qingqiu Gets Mad: The Fic by poison_dart_frog (T)

After the destruction of their third house, Shen Qingqiu leaves Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge alone until they get their shit together. Without Shen Qingqiu there, Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge are forced to spend time together, rebuild a house, and (hopefully) win back their husband. Easier said than done when it’s an emotionally constipated war god and crybaby demon lord that is having to get along. (It's more towards the BingLiu side, but a 10/10 regardless)

⚔️

something you don't give much attention by brosnyaa (E)

The one where Liu Qingge actually wins a fight and Luo Binghe ends up getting a little hot for Shishu.

⚔️

Universal Simps by chaoticgoodlawyer (M)

Luo Binghe had been trying to tell his husband something for some time, but Shen Qingqiu just wasn't getting it. The System helps the Protagonist out by forcing Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe, and Liu Qingge into his husband's original world. Hijinks ensue. Moshang are just along for the ride. (In which Shen Qingqiu stops being so oblivious, and Bingqiu gain a boyfriend.)

⚔️

something 'bout tonight feels meant to be by lavenderandrue (T)

one time at a party i kissed someone's girlfriendboyfriend and to make sure he wasn't mad about it i just kissed him too... i blacked out and woke up to a text in a groupchat with both of them that said "did u make it home safe baby? <3"

⚔️

I Dream You’re Still Breathing (don’t wake me up) by PeerlessCourgette (marimorimo), scholomancefan (E)

When he’d awoken in the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom body, Shen Qingqiu had intended to get as far away as possible from everyone in his past; especially Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. Instead he found himself a helpless bystander to the fight between them. But when Liu Qingge is hurt–seriously hurt–Shen Qingqiu knows leaving is no longer an option.

⚔️

to light the hearth by lemonlight (E)

Liu Qingge said something he's always intended to keep private. Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu show him - thoroughly - that his feelings are not as unreciprocated as he thinks.

⚔️

Putting the 'Hit' in 'Hit On' by Prudabaga (E)

In which Luo Binghe unknowingly engages in demonic flirtation with Liu Qingge via punches, and everyone knows about it and is cool with it. Luo Binghe just wishes someone had told him.

⚔️

Today, and every day after by summerdays_winternights (E)

“Junshang, the human that has been courting you for the past seven years with the duels? And by bringing Consort Shen his conquests? He is the one that brought the deer to you, correct?” Luo Binghe nods, still in a daze. “Yes, that’s Liu Shishu.” “Mn,” Mobei-jun nods. “Will you be accepting his courting soon? Qinghua says there are many demons who wish to court him if you two do not accept.” What the fuck? What the fuck? Like hell he’s going to let some trash court Liu Qingge. Wait. Oh.

⚔️

Ship Wars: A New Hope (RPF Edition) by PeerlessCourgette (marimorimo), scholomancefan (E)

A fresh infusion of smut to rival Regret of Chunshan has flooded the jianghu—and for once, it’s not Shen Qingqiu x Luo Binghe! Shen Qingqiu breathes a sigh of relief. But his reprieve is short-lived. What the fuck is “Bingliushen”?!

⚔️

Two PIDW Cosplayers Broke Into My Apartment And Saved My Life but They Hate Each Other and Keep Breaking My Things by Kamaete-(E)

Shen Yuan wakes up, in his apartment, to two impossibly beautiful cosplayers (their special effects look too good to be cosplayers though) fighting (over him? He hopes not. They keep calling him Shen Qingqiu and he's not sure he likes the comparison).

⚔️

A Flaw in the System by CheckersXIV (M)

Shen Yuan has been working in the 99th Precinct for a grand total of three months. He’s pretty certain he deserves an award for being able to adjust to the absolute bullshit that happens here. (A Brooklyn 99 AU, pretty cool)

⚔️

best of both worlds by ChezPillow (PillowLord) (M)

Everyone knows that the singer Zheng Yang uses an alias. Only a select few knows the man behind the music idol. Luo Binghe prefers it that way.

⚔️

In the Pit by ShanBlackRX (E)

When Shen Yuan perked his head up to the raw punk song flooding Liu Qingge’s living room, taking interest in the insane bass line that was playing then, Liu Qingge didn’t expect him to slowly but surely obsess over this band within the subsequent weeks, asking to borrow his albums so he could tear apart their musical skills and start to actively engage in conversations about them with his friend.

Requested by @axxa-the-allikatt, @anonimgato1507, @thischickiswack

[korshrimpski]

I’ve been waiting for this >:) anyways:

Transcript:

SLIDE 1: the kingdom is being rebuilt. (In smaller text): a 2024-25 devils primer / for bandwagon fans, new fans, and anyone who wants to know more about this team / by @stereax

SLIDE 2: what was the kingdom and how did it fall? a devils history lesson (brief)

founded in 1974 in Kansas City as the Kansas City Scouts

moved to Denver in 1976, became the Colorado Rockies

Then yeeted themselves out east in 1982 and became your New Jersey Devils

objectively in the top 5 team names and logos in the league

sucked HARD for the first like 20 years of the franchise's existence

then enter Martin Brodeur

THE best goaltender in history (sorry Hasek and Roy)

With Marty in net, the Devils could play a very defensive game known as "the trap"

(this is why the Devils don't have very strong scoring records fyi)

And this got us to 3 Cups (1995, 2000, 2003) + 2 Finals (2001, 2012)

And five players' numbers were retired from that era (Daneyko 3, Stevens 4, Elias 26, Niedermayer 27, Brodeur 30)

After 2012 the team kind of imploded and entered its rebuild era & the rebuild looked like it was over in 2018

Taylor Hall had his Hart season and dragged the team to the playoffs.

ahahaha... it was NOT over. took us five more years.

We finally made the playoffs again in 2022-23 and beat the Rangers in 7!!!

(before losing to the Canes in 5)

And we set a bunch of franchise records on the way to the playoffs

(52 wins, 112 points, 13-game win streak, J.Hughes with 99 points...)

Last season. um. you know the saying "what can go wrong will go wrong?" yeah. everyone died.

But this year we got a ton of new pieces AND we're finally healthy again!

so our Cup window is for all intents and purposes opening now. buckle in we've got at least five good years of this

If not more

SLIDE 2: the rivals

the Devils have two "main" rivals - these are the Rangers and the Flyers

the Flyers rivalry was mainly in the 2000s when both teams were good

then we were bad. and now they're bad. so it's not really that intense anymore

but the Rangers rivalry is eternal

as a general rule, if your rivalry ended up on Seinfeld you're doing something right

The Devils/Rangers rivalry is a microcosm of the NJ/NY rivalry

essentially New Yorkers often consider New Jerseyans somehow inferior & see: "garbage heap", "Armpit of America", Jersey Shore (the TV series)

Meanwhile, New Jerseyans think New Yorkers should just get the fuck out if they hate Jersey so much & see: Ellis and Liberty Island sovereignty disputes, the idea of firing shots to keep the rent down

But there's also hockey reasons for the rivalry

The Rangers won the Cup in 1994 after beating the Devils in a seven-game series from hell

The Devils said fuck that and won the Cup in 1995 in retaliation & and then twice more in 2000 and 2003

And since then the Hudson River Rivalry has never gone away & especially now with the (manufactured) Hughes and Kakko/Lafreniere top draft pick thing

Plus the 22-23 playoff victory which broke a good number of Rangers fans and got their coach canned

and their rinks (Prudential Center/The Rock and Madison Square Garden/MSG) are also 10 miles (16km) away from each other

Which means every single Devils/Rangers game at the Rock is inundated with blueshirts and it is ANNOYING AS HELL

hell, there's even a joke that the Devils would gladly go 4-78 if the 4 wins were versus the Rangers

oh, also the Devils and Canes are sparking up a distaste for each other

Fueled by the recent playoff series and Erik Haula's existence

More on Haula later though, ON TO THE TEAM!!!

FORWARDS:

SLIDE 3: the Swisses and Newfie

Timo Meier (timo time) #28: Swiss

played last year on enough injuries that I think it would be easier to say what WASN'T broken

Former shark and YOU CAN TELL BY THAT FACE & traded to New Jersey in

That One Trade with 13(!) different pieces involved

power forward who's able to drive his own line but works very well with Nico

it's always Timo Time inJersey

Nico Hischier #13 // C: Swiss

THE best captain in the league bar none

Sorry if you disagree you are simply Wrong

Selke-level two-way forward who said fuck on national TV

A concerning amount of his personality is simply: Being Swiss

That being said he is also very pretty so we excuse it

EVERYONE on the team would die for him.

Dawson Mercer (Mercdawg) #91: Newfound land

"he's on the third line now" NOT IN MY HEART HE ISN'T FUCK YOU

Newfie starboy!!!

Resident ironman, has not missed a game since he started playing in the NHL

Usually plays RW but sometimes plays C in a pinch

giggly smiley sunshine boy

constantly referred to as a dog by everyone, even the Devils social media admin

SLIDE 4: [one [eight] [six] three]

Ondřej Palát (Pally) #18 // A: Czechian

#1 victim of "overpaid" Twitter takes

to be fair he is overpaid

a significant part of it is Cup Tax for winning two Cups with the Lightning tho

at least he's not a leg weight anymore and he is pulling his own?

apparently his wife's recent pregnancy had their newborn daughter in the NCIU for like, seven weeks

They’re okay!! But scary

Jack Hughes (J’Accuse) #86 // A: American

now with a bionic shoulder!

yes, this is the Jack Hughes whose signature fangirls are getting tattooed onto themselves

walking quote machine, not because he hates the media, but because he really hates dumb questions

Can single-handedly win you a game with his skill

Or lose it by trying too hard

Jesper Bratt (Bratter) #63: Swedish

sixth round draft pick turned possible 100 point scorer this season

the guy who the JBITBPITNHL meme is about

(that's Jesper Bratt is the Best Player in the NHL)

one of only two players on the roster who remembers the Hall Hart season, Nico being the other - he and Nico are very close!

(Noesen too, but he left so….)

SLIDE 5: old man emporium

Tomáš Tatar (tuna) #90: Slovakian

used to be a Devil and on a line with Nico and Dawson two years ago

he spent last year in Colorado and Seattle & and apparently was not too pleased about that

but now he's back home! and he IS pleased about that!

is he GOOD anymore?good question!

not really. but we love him anyways.

Eric Haula (Haulzy) #56: Finnish

used to be. um. well he didn't ever stop being a Devil

used to be Jack's emotional support faceoff-taking winger

now he's the third-line center on the team and he's been solid in that role while being elevated when needed

goes through periods of forgetting how to hit the back of the net. You get used to it.

Stefan Noesen #11: American

used to be a Devil in the Taylor Hall Hart Year

has brought down the hairlines/60 of this roster significantly

gets to the net and screens and so he scores a lot

also being used on PP1 right now to stand in front of the goalie and screen

He’s having a career year in goals so that’s always fun!!

SLIDE 6: meat n mitts

Paul Cotter (dj pauly c) #47: American

acquired in a trade with Vegas (for Holtzy and Schmiddy beloveds, but alas!)

wore 43 with Vegas but switched to 47 because of Luke Hughes

famous Lover of Goalies started the season red hot, was close to a goal per game at some point

has cooled off since then but is still very beloved

pretended to be a DJ on camera once

Cutis Lazar #42: Canadian

might be the emotional core of the Devils' fanbase

BIG vibes guy, always cracking jokes with media

loves to tease Luke Hughes about anything and everything

the guy who ate that hamburger off the ice that one time

Also came up with the "Meat and Mitts" line name

Yeah they’re all such characters

Nate Bastian (Bass) #14: Canadian

People who hate Nate Bastian hate hockey

THE emotional support fourth liner

you know how there's always a boybestfriend soulbond on a team?

he used to have one of those with former linemate Michael McLeod

(we don't talk about Michael McLeod)

Bass is wonderful though we love him very much

DEFENDERS:

SLIDE 7: man and machine

Brenden Dillon #5: Canadian

apparently he is a Sponge (blocks many shots)

he is also very Punchy (fights many opponents)

generally has a high physical presence as opposed to Douglas who has zero

this is the d-pair where Everything Happens

as opposed to the other two Where Nothing Happens

if a goal is being scored on either side of the ice these two are probably on it

Dougie Hamilton #7: Canadian

admin!!!

um he kinda died last year (pectoral injury in game 20 that kept him out for the whole year) but he's back!!! and we are so very happy

you will know the "piss missile" when you see it

(it's an insanely powerful slapshot from the blueline)

powerplay quarterback

is very tall and almost never uses that fact unless it's for hugging his teammates

SLIDE 8: in the deep end

Jonas Siegenthaler (siegs) #71: Swiss

like Timo, he was serially dead last year

was a very good defensive defenseman before last year

is a very good defensive defenseman this year too!

as in, he and Kovy are genuinely one of the best shutdown defense pairs in the league good

diversity win, he’s half Thai!

and started an ice hockey camp in Thailand!

Jonathan Kovacevi (Honda Civic) #8: Canadian

we got him from Montreal for a fourth-round pick

seriously their GM called ours and went "hey you want this dude we have no room for him anymore"

and um. looking at the Habs' defense they probably could have used him.

that's okay we get to cherish him now!!!

insanely good shutdown defenseman with Siegs

SLIDE 9: injured reserve buddies

Luke Hughes (rusty) #43: American

yes he is related to Jack (Luke is the youngest)

scored his first NHL goal on a wraparound in overtime in the last game of the 22-23 season

Luke's a very good offensive defenseman and the likely heir to the powerplay

the Hugheses are like, literally hockey royalty

they either know your favorite player or know someone who knows your favorite player

Brett Pesce #22: American

Luke's IR buddy

continues a trend of former Canes players coming to the Devils (Noesen, Dougie, Haula)

also continues trend of fish-themed players

very good shutdown defenseman who allows Luke the freedom to play very offensively

or a passenger getting carried by Luke depending on which stat sites you

SLIDE 10: the children

Seamus Casey (shea) #24: Canadian

"he's in the AHL" okay have you considered not hurting my feelings

littlest pet shop boy (he's like 5'9" or 5'10")

UMich teammate of Luke

insanely talented powerplay quarterback and solid on defense

currently in the A for seasoning because Too Many Defensemen + conditioning concerns

Fitz if you trade him... it’s really nice out there actually 

Šimon Nemec (nemo) #17: Slovakian

so remember when I said Dougie died last season

and remember when last year I said I wanted Nemo to play in the NHL

...yeah. About That.

he did so very well (though he was thrown into theFIRE) and now he's. in Utica again whoops

Also the team had to buy him glasses because he couldn't see for SHIT and thought it was normal

SCRATCHES/EXTRAS

SLIDE 11: extras extras read all about ‘em

Kurtis MacDermid (Dermy) #23: Canadian

he can be a forward or a defenseman and is terrible at both

but he is a Cup Winner! (with the Avalanche)

Do you remember that video of the guy with the Cup falling backwards onto the floor in the club?

yes. that's Dermy.

So his job is basically to beat up Matt Rempe

and we signed him for three to do that. Idk either.

Justin Dowling #37: Canadian

he plays center & that's just about

everything I know about him

He should be in the AHL but since our bottom six centers keep dying he's with us

serviceable!

a journeyman!

Played with the Airdrie Xtreme as a kid

& this is not important but the name is great

Santeri Hatakka #82: Finnish

came as a bonus piece in the Timo Meier trade but he is. really very solid

Hattsy season MANY have been saying (I am the only one who says this

out with a shoulder injury and probably won't be in the NHL this year unless our entire d-corps dies [KNOCKING ON WOOD AGGRESSIVELY]

but he's here because I love him <3

GOALIES

SLIDE 12: we have goalies now

Jacob Markström (Marky) #25: Swedish

he has FINALLY been rescued from Calgary!

seriously those negotiations feel like they took a year though

he has a severe case of Goalie Eyes that stare into the void

and is literally COVERED with tattoos

but he is an Actually Good Goaltender and lord knows we needed one of those

Jake Allen #34: Canadian

we got him from Montreal at the trade deadline last year (Jakes from Canada...)

Has helped to stabilize our net considerably

...when he's not letting in shots from so far in the neutral zone they shouldn't legally be considered shots on goal

this is about the Tampa game

go and watch it I promise it's really funny

STAFF

SLIDE 13: hi look at our coach and gm

Head coach Sheldon Keefe

somehow he is only 44.

Toronto ages a man.

got fired by Toronto last year for not being able to drag a terribly constructed roster deep into the playoffs

now he's with us! where he has an actual defense to work with!

doesn't like to line blend but when he does oh BOY does he line blend

first line Bastian anyone?

General Manager Tom Fitzgerald

the king of trades involving a third-round pick for some reason

used to be assistant GM in Pittsburgh before coming to New Jersey

won a Cup with the Penguins in 2009 as director of player development

Has pushed our roster from solid to possible cup contenders

Let's see what he does this trade deadline!

SLIDE 14: we played in the stadium series last year!! We won the stadium series last year

SLIDE 15: everyone on this team is in love with each other

SLIDE 16: raise hell <3 (if you have any questions drop @stereax an ask!)

likes and reblogs highly appreciated here!!! spent a ton of time on this, hope it shows!

let's go devils!!!

[never-forget-viva-la-pluto]

"Vote for this candidate, unlike the Democratic runner, he will secure the American border."

And they show a picture of the fucking Mexican border.

Bitch this is fucking MICHIGAN!!!

ITS GOT A BORDER TO FUCKING CANADA!!!! WTF IS THE MICHIGAN GOVERNOR GOING TO DO ABOUT THE FUCKING TEXAS BOARDER???????

LOOK UP IDIOT!!!!! ITS LESS THAN 2 HOURS FROM WHERE YOU LIVE YOU DUMB-ASS BITCH!!!! OPEN A MAP!!! DRIVE NORTH FUCKER!!!

[aardvaark]

the leverage team would have had a games night… once. everyone cheated so much and in such increasingly extreme ways that all mentions of monopoly are banned in their headquarters (this makes talking about marks who monopolize the market very confusing)

[moodyseal]

Okay I promise I will try to shut up about this specific moment in AA soon but. The dive into the past in Turnabout Succession with the whole Magnifi Gramarye case and its aftermath is already heartbreaking on its own but what I think is the most heartbreaking thing about it is how the gameplay itself carries out. I mean they could've let the player watch the case unfold as usual and then have Phoenix simply yell "HOLD IT!!" and present the single piece of evidence that got him disbarred completely on his own (no less tragic, but at least it's like hearing someone recount a memory) but they actually gave the player the choice. Or the illusion of it

A screen pops up with two single options, "Show evidence" and "No need", and of course you hesitate to click on either because this happens in the last few stretches of the game and you already know what consequences this will have. It will be bad. You try to change the outcome, click "No need". After some quick dialogue, it goes back to that screen. You click it again. It circles back to those two options. And again. And again. And then you realize you never really had a choice after all and you click "Show evidence" and then of course it ends badly. Which you knew already, but couldn't prevent

With this game dynamic you're not just witnessing this story—you become part of that case. You're forced to give the wrong advice even if you're aware it's wrong, and you're forced to knowingly doom Phoenix Wright with your own two hands

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i would die for the shark in under paris but that's probably unnecessary to say considering she'd kill me without hesitation. icon. keep killing bestie i love the way you snack on humans you are a star

[their-name-is-fake]

Hey y’all! Just to give some insight into what we are seeing in the states. This is going to be close, like reaaaaallly close. Kamala would need to win Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin from the looks of it. So, where does that leave us? Who’s to say all three of these states are very volatile. There’s a high chance she loses Michigan ( I mena she fully fumbled it there so it depends on if the people choose to over look that), so that’s already bad news. Georgia would have been a good alternative but gerrymandering needed any chance of that.

There is an ever increasing chance that Trump is able to pull what he did in 2016 so y’all need to be prepared for that.

And even if he doesn’t win there is a high chance there will be riots so

[whatsfourteenupto]

Okay okay okay this is 100% my fav episode of the season so far that was so much fun oh my god I’m bouncing off the walls rn what a BOP