#im just comparing this with what i've seen before

[infinitedungas]

ok so akram khan's production of giselle is cool as FUCK

i've seen other productions of giselle and always felt that for such a gut-wrenching story it was presented way too pretty and polished... this though??? fuck me, man. its grabbed my brain in a vice like grip and wont let go.

ramble under the cut but TL;DR everyone should watch this. 10/10, brutally efficient storytelling, ballet being legitimately scary, left me feeling hollow but in a good way like a tragic ghost story should

also if anyone else wants to watch it in the totally legal way that i did, lmk and i can provide means to do so

khan's choreography is incredible. ballet often takes something very physically challenging and makes it look floaty, effortless - a lot of the choreo here looks painful, or strained, or unnatural, and it works so so well. he's also brilliant at using the ensemble dancers to convey emotions and story beats - like the circle of dancers around giselle as she loses her mind, contracting like a muscle, almost like they're breathing so you really feel her overwhelming fear... then rolling like waves before swallowing her up entirely. in some productions giselle just kinda?? goes mad then drops dead?? but in this one, even without the rushing sea sounds at the end of act 1, it's clear she drowned herself. idk maybe this is basic stuff but as someone who sometimes struggles to follow the narrative in ballet without looking it up beforehand i really appreciate shit like this. it's really efficient and effective storytelling.

i also need to talk about the wili - when i saw giselle as a kid i didn't get that they were meant to be angry spirits, but here you can't fucking miss it. they're terrifying. gliding out en pointe in ragged dresses and wild, untied hair, in this really eerie regimented symmetry, crossing the stage in lines that weave in and out and make the dancers look incorporeal, like they're phasing through each other. and the sticks. the STICKS. the wili have weapons, the threat is established from the outset and stays present the whole time they're on stage. banging the sticks in time, using them to direct others' movements, it's like a nod to the interpretation of a stern ballet teacher or headmistress in horror stories (the movie suspiria comes to mind) and i love every minute of it.

also can we talk about the costume and set design? i already mentioned the wili but what i really love about the costumes and sets is how hard they drive home the focus on the class divide. the way albrecht's shirt is tucked in neatly, that tiny difference in costume marking him out from the rest of the town right away and telegraphing the reveal later on. the towering wall in the background with grasping handmarks from the townspeople who'll never scale it but forever keep trying. the moment when it lifts up and you see the silhouette of the nobles, in these lavish, exaggerated costumes (the duchess' dress!!! holy shit costume designer great job!!!!) in stark contrast to the townspeople's simple dresses and tunics.

also the SCORE. THE SCOOOOORE. some of it's really different / stripped back from the original and it really works for the stark environment it's set in. there's more than enough of the original music to be recognisable but even then there are often these kind of industrial sounding undertones that keep you on edge the whole way through. the wili dancing hilarion to death is my favourite though - the clockwork ticking alongside the drumbeat of the sticks on the floor is some frankly excellent horror scoring.

the commitment to making the story look and feel gut-wrenching, unforgiving, horrifying in places, sums up what i love about it i guess. i've seen classical ballet productions approach the darker parts of their stories in a big, bombastic, ooh-listen-to-the-brass-section-isn't-this-scary way before, but this so different. this is the first time i've seen a ballet production be quietly sinister and looming and horrifying and brutal.

i'm sure other productions of other shows have managed it (from a cursory look at akram khan's other work this seems to be his specialty) but it was a new one on me and frankly it blew my fucking face off.

[roenters]

Dude this Christmas is gonna be a good one.

(my sister just bought me all of the fight club 3 comics. As well. Let's fucking go chat double the traumatising imagery 💪💪💪)

[whole essay in the tags. Sorry bro 😭💀]

[bucketbueckers]

TIMELESS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: slight language, fluff w maybe a little angst (im beginning to realize the "angst" is probably just plot) but it's literally not that deep at all (this is a bucketbueckers fanfiction we all know there's a happy ending), AU, soulmates, author won't pretend to understand history, potential misuse of period-typical slang, historical inaccuracies (ask me if i care [spoiler: i dont!]), abuse of punctuation, light violence, poorly proofread

wc: 15.5k

synopsis: Even in a different life, you still would have been hers. OR – two (of the many) lives you've lived with Paige Bueckers, and the one you're living with her now.

notes: im not rly much of an au author but i figured i needed a lil bit of something different after FOTS beat my ass. i've been toying w this idea for a while now 😋 this fic is probably better in theory but i had sm fun writing it (and thinking about pilot!paige and knight!paige kinda drives me crazy) idk not too much yapping from me today but as always i hope y'all enjoy &&& happy munch madness, lets have some good vibes going into game day tmr 🫶

2025

It’s a warm, breezy Tuesday in Connecticut, one of your rare off days, and this is quite possibly the last place you’d expect yourself to be.

Standing before you is an old antique shop. It’s a block away from the apartment you share with your girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, and you pass it every day on your morning jog. It’s rustic, worn at the edges, but there’s something softer about its unassuming visage today. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’re out a little later than usual – Paige had an afternoon practice compared to her typical morning ones, so the two of you had lounged in bed for a little longer, soaking in the time together.

Whatever the reason, there was something in the air that compelled you to stop by. So you do.

The sign that hangs over the door is rusted, hanging loosely from one tarnished chain, its words unrecognizable from how time has eroded it. A bell chimes happily as you push the door open. Immediately, you’re hit with the scent of aged paper, ink, and something else that is distinctly vintage. The walls are lined with various art pieces, antique furniture tucked neatly into the crevices of the shop with tan price tags attached. You’re wrought with a familiar sense of nostalgia; there’s something so incredibly touching about the fact that everything in this store had belonged to somebody once, had been something of value, something to take care of. Everything is still in perfect condition. It’s beautiful to know that after someone is long gone, there is still someone out there who will cherish their belongings and take care of them the same way they had.

You gaze around the shop, taking everything in, your steps slow and methodical. You were never a patient shopper, always seeking to get in and get out, but it feels as though the shop is trying to tell you something – trying to show you something. You wander, studying the art, the intricate carvings on aged furniture, until you make your way to the check-out counter. The clerk is absent, although there’s a cardboard box full of old pictures – a black and white photo of a bride, toddlers playing soccer, an elderly couple on a porch swing.

There’s something achingly familiar about them. It makes your heart swell, makes you wrack your brain to discern where you’ve seen these photos before. You sift through the rest, lingering on a few; there’s one of a couple laughing on the porch of what you assume to be their first house, a photo of two people embracing – one is wearing an aged military uniform, which makes your face soften, and the third is two teenagers holding hands, dressed fashionably. That one makes you smile as you take in the lovestruck expression on their faces.

Still, there’s something about the photos that give you pause. You pull out your phone, navigating to FaceTime, and you call the one number you know will pick up no matter what.

The line clicks through and Paige’s face fills your screen. She’s slightly out of breath, her face flushed from the exertion of practice, hair messy and sweat beading at her temples. Despite that, she grins, a sort of smile that’s reserved only for you. “Hey, baby,” she greets, her voice soft, which brings a smile to your face as well. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” you say back. “Sorry, I know you’re at practice–”

“We finished early, but I always got time for you,” she promises. “You know that.”

Your smile widens. “Well, I was on my jog, but you know that antique shop in town?” Paige hums in affirmation. “Something told me to go in, so I did. Look at some of these photos I found.” You flip the FaceTime camera, positioning your phone over your collection of photos. Paige leans in a little closer to see, her brows drawing together in concentration.

“They feel…really familiar,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “Like I feel like I’ve seen them somewhere.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you exclaim. “It’s so weird. It’s like I know these people.”

“Wait, go back to that one,” Paige requests. “The black and white one, military uniform.” Doing as instructed, you pull that one to the forefront of the stack, gazing at them expectantly. That’s when you truly take a closer look, recognizing the expressions on the couple’s faces, their facial features. Your breath hitches just as Paige says, “Why do they kinda look like–”

“Us,” you finish.

“Yeah,” Paige murmurs, a little awestruck. “I can’t explain it but like – I can feel it.”

You flip the photo around, your eyes catching on the date on the back, and the subsequent memory hits you like a truck.

1944

It’s a sweltering afternoon in May when your life changes.

Well, changes for the second time since 1941.

Three years ago, the United States declared war on Germany and the adjoining Axis powers following the attack on Pearl Harbor. It was a dramatic shift for the entire country, one that displaced just about every facet of life. Men were drafted, heading overseas to fight, leaving holes in the workforce. Although the reality was bleak and dire, you saw this as an opportunity – for independence, for some shred of equality, for freedom. With plenty of job openings as workers were joining the war effort, you landed a job at a shipyard along the coast.

It wasn’t easy. Far from it, actually. You worked long, uncomfortable hours, hardly fitting in time for a break. You, along with several other women, worked on building, repairing, and maintaining the ships that would be used to transport supplies or men overseas. For you, it was enough – the daily routine, the knowledge that you were contributing to something greater than yourself, that your efforts were making a difference. It was worth it.

You get off your shift sometime in the afternoon. You’ve been up since the early hours of the morning; now, you’re half-asleep, only going through the motions and letting pure muscle memory guide you down the busy streets. Something big is happening soon – you can feel it. You’ve noticed drastically more uniformed men on the streets, whispers of another draft; at this point, your suspicion is a matter of when and not if.

Barely aware of what’s in front of you, you turn the corner, colliding roughly with the person in front of you. They hardly move although you bounce backwards, knocked off balance by both your exhaustion and the fact that you’re so much smaller than the other person. You’re already bracing yourself to eat concrete, eyes shut tightly, when you realize you’re not toppling over; instead, there’s a pair of firm hands holding you by the arms, keeping you upright.

“You alright?”

Her voice is concerned, if a little gravelly, rough around the edges in a way that captures your attention immediately. You open your eyes, your breath hitching, because you’re sure this is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. The street is busy — everyone lost in their own little worlds moves right by you, but at this moment? It feels like time stops, like nothing exists except for you and the blonde woman before you. 

Her hair is pulled up in a tight, slick-back bun, the edges pressed and the golden waves reflecting in the early May sun. Her eyes are a deep blue, almost startling so, but there’s an evident kindness that softens the intensity. Her jaw is sharp, angular, her nose sloping elegantly despite the chisel, but what truly captures your attention is her stature — she’s the tallest woman you’ve ever seen, no less than six foot, and her broad shoulders fill out her khaki uniform service shirt. There’s an emblem pinned over her left breast, wing shaped in the aviator insignia. You’ve been staring for far too long already and the pilot is smiling like she’s caught you. Despite yourself, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, your voice even, which makes the expression on her face soften. 

“The flyboys would never let me live it down if I ran you over,” she says coyly, her hands lingering just a second longer on your arms before she finally steadies you. Her touch makes you flustered. “Hurtin’ a girl like you is cause for a national emergency.”

You laugh, a tinkling, carefree sound that betrays the way your heart pounds — in a good way. “You think you’re slick, don’t you?”

With gentle hands, she pulls you under the awning of the storefront you’re standing next to — an antiquities shop, according to the sign, keeping you out of the way of the bustling crowd as she murmurs, “I call it like I see it.”

With a teasing smile, you glance up at her, enjoying the way she looms over you far too much. It’s not intimidating, her stature, but it does make you feel warm all over. She’s long, toned, and you can see the muscle hidden behind her uniform. Her khaki button up is tucked neatly into the waistband of her sage green trousers, the top missing a few clasped buttons to reveal the dog tags hanging from her neck. She looks so put together, handsome and beautiful all in one, and maybe it’s the solemnity of the world around you, but this moment in time feels so peaceful, so right. “Do you, now?” you ask. “And what exactly are you seeing, flygirl?”

The nickname makes her preen, flashing her teeth in a smile that could surely ruin you. “Well,” she begins, her eyes scanning your figure in a way that looks as though she’s in a gallery staring at art, and not actually standing in the middle of a crowded street and staring at a woman who has just gotten off a twelve hour shift, covered in motor oil. Her gaze doesn’t make you feel objectified – far from it, but you’re beginning to think that you enjoy her attention. “I see this pretty girl – gorgeous is more like it, but I ain’t never been good with words. Just actions.” Her lips quirk slightly, reaching out with her thumb to wipe away a smudge of grease off of your cheekbone. Your face flushes, which only makes her features brighten like the clouds parting for the sun. “I see honesty. Ambition.”

“You can tell that much about me just from one look?” you say, a little amused.

“I’d tell you a hell of a lot more if it meant seein’ you again,” she confesses.

You scan her features, not quite sure what you’re searching for – deception, maybe, but you don’t see it. All you see is genuinity, a certain brand of hope that you haven’t seen in anyone’s expression in the last few years. You don’t know anything about her other than the fact that she’s a pilot, an aviator, but a slow smile spreads across your face the more you consider her request.

In times like these, you need all the joy you can get, no matter how short it is. So you teasingly lean in, relishing in the way her body eclipses yours as she melts into you, but you stop her with a hand to the chest. You know she could easily push past it, but you appreciate the way her body goes rigid, like she’s letting you make the call. Her brow raises – a challenge, maybe? – but despite herself, her smile grows, too.

“I’m not that easy,” you whisper to her, satisfied when her breath hitches. You press against her gently and she leans back, acquiescing. “You’re gonna have to work for it if you wanna see me so bad.”

“I can do that,” she promises, nodding emphatically, which makes you laugh quietly – she’d seemed so confident, so composed; now, she just seems eager to impress, to listen to every word you say.

Content, you take a step back, flashing one last smile. “See you soon, flygirl,” you say, enjoying the smitten look on her face, until –

“I never got your name, yardbird!” Her voice carries over the thrum of the crowd.

When you pause, glancing back at her, she seems amused, if not a little hopeful to hear you answer. But again – you’re not that easy. “Find me again and I’ll tell you,” you call back, your promise reaching her ears. You watch as her smile grows; even from afar, you can make out the determination in her eyes, the clear message of challenge accepted.

You’re not surprised to see her again.

If anything, you were almost expecting it. Her eyes had held a promise, the vow that she’d rise to the challenge. She didn’t become a pilot by being unambitious – you were sure that it was the complete opposite of that, having to work twice as hard as her flyboy companions. Any surprise you hold is because of how soon you see her.

It’s the next day and you’re walking home from the shipyard again, taking that same path you’ve taken hundreds of times across the years. You’re guided by muscle memory, weaving around the slow walkers and finding natural gaps in the crowd. When you turn the corner, the pilot is standing under the awning of the antiquities shop again, her hair pinned up in the same, sleek bun, her uniform crisp and pressed. She’s glancing at her wristwatch and as soon as you round the corner, stepping onto the street, she looks up and meets your eyes immediately. A smug smile graces her features.

“Found you,” she calls out, pushing herself off of the wall with a boot to the brick. You roll your eyes, amused, and you meet her in the middle by the doorway.

“You memorizing my schedule?” you ask her.

She shrugs a coy shoulder. “I’m committed,” she declares. “Said you weren’t gonna make it easy for me, right?”

“So she does listen,” you muse.

“Every word.” You smile at her, and it’s then that you realize she’s hiding her hands behind her back. Recognizing your curiosity, she reveals her hands, her smile softening – she’s holding a singular red rose, a rich, dark red in color, and you shouldn’t be surprised, but you are. “Think this is enough to finally earn your name, yardbird?”

You hum, tapping your chin dramatically, which draws a laugh from the aviator. Conceding, you take the rose from outstretched hands, much to her relief. You introduce yourself, listening as she tests the pronunciation on her tongue, smiling at how nice it sounds rolling off her tongue. Then, she sticks out her hand for you to shake as she states, “Paige Bueckers, airforce service pilot.”

She walks you home after that, her hand gentle yet protective over the small of your back. Your conversation is full of laughter, teasing, and Paige flirting with you unashamedly; you like it more than you would ever admit to her, although you’re certain she knows. Despite the fact that this is only your second conversation, there’s something about Paige that gives her the uncanny ability to understand you – it’s like a connection that goes deeper than your accidental run in from yesterday, like she was born to know you and you were born to know her. It’s like you’ve known Paige Bueckers your entire life. It’s a new feeling, but certainly not an unwelcome one.

This quickly becomes your routine. You wake up early, spend your morning and the better part of the afternoon at the shipyard, then Paige walks you home. Getting to know her comes as easy as breathing and being with her is almost enough to make you forget about the chaos in the world. It’s like Paige is your perfect complement. She came into your life in the most unexpected way possible, but the more time you spend with her, the more nights you invite her over for dinner, the more you realize that you truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Some nights she stays over. Paige blends so seamlessly into your routine that you wonder how you were ever complete without her at your side constantly. In the mornings, she’ll brew your coffee – how she figured out exactly how you took it, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t complaining, make your breakfast, massage your hands (because they were always sore and calloused from working on the ships all day), and walk you to the shipyard every day. At some point in time, she graduated from having a hand on your back to tangling your fingers together, which is something you truly relished in.

Over the month, the two of you get closer. Sometimes you stay at her house, waking up early enough to iron her uniform just to make her day a little easier. Paige tells you that you don’t have to go out of your way to do that for her, but secretly, you like it when she’s still in the grips of sleep and she gets out of bed to wrap her arms around you, resting her chin on your shoulder and watching you smooth out every wrinkle from her shirt. She’s warm, and soft, and dare you say it, she’s yours, even though neither of you have truly discussed it yet. It’s not traditional – in fact, nothing about the two of you is traditional; until recently, it wasn’t normal for women to work, let alone fly airplanes, let alone be in relationships together, but it works because it’s you and Paige. It works because although you’ll never have the vocabulary to describe it, you know this isn’t the first time you’ve met Paige. This isn’t the first time you’ve shared sleepy mornings together. It’s not even the first time you’ve loved her. Whether you truly realized it or not, you and Paige were a story centuries in the making, spanning across several years, decades, lifetimes.

But in a world like this, not everything can be perfect. Your suspicions were right from the very beginning.

“I have to leave,” Paige whispers to you on one quiet, sunny afternoon. It’s June 1st, barely fourteen hours into the day when Paige breaks the news. You’d been working since dawn. When Paige picked you up from the shipyard, she’d been noticeably dim, not nearly as lively on the walk back. You pressed, but she was silent, so you’d hoped that she was just tired from training; then, she’d suggested the two of you go to her backyard to lay in the sun. You curled up next to her, your chin on her chest, smiling as she pointed out the different shapes in the clouds (“That one’s definitely a boat,” you’d said, finger directed at a blob in the sky, to which Paige had responded with, “Y’think so, yardbird?”)

You knew Paige was an aviator. An aircraft service pilot, to be exact. You knew that eventually, she would be called in to fulfill a duty. You just never thought it would come so soon.

“When?” you murmur, willing your voice not to crack. Your hand was resting over her stomach – you can feel how her breathing comes to her quicker, hear the way her heart pounds in her chest. She wants to leave just as much as you want her to, but she knows she’s bound by obligation.

“Tomorrow morning,” she responds. Your heart aches and she can only tighten her arm around your shoulders, her chin pressing into your temple. “I’m flyin’ out to England – all of the Allies will be there. We’ll get debriefed, then… I’m flying twenty men into Normandy to invade Europe. After that, I’ll be transporting supplies and cargo between our bases and the frontlines.”

“Paige,” you try, but the lump in your throat cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about me,” she says, trying for a lighthearted tone, but you can hear that it’s weighing on her just as much as it’s weighing on you. “I’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t make me a promise you can’t keep,” you beg, which makes Paige deflate, unable to continue being strong. “There’s no guarantees–”

“I know–”

“And don’t be reckless, you hear–”

“Yardbird,” Paige stresses, her voice cracking on the syllables of her nickname for you; despite the anguish on her face, there’s a calm acceptance, a sort of determination that looks like a promise to return. She squeezes your shoulder, directing your attention to her face. Tears are pooling on her waterline and if there’s one thing that’s always true about Paige Bueckers, it’s that irritating, unmistakable confidence of hers; you can see it reflected in her eyes. She believes that she’s coming home after this mission. You know better than to get your hopes up. “I promise you–”

“Don’t–”

She interrupts you with a stern look, desperation clouding her features now. She needs you to hear this. “I promise I’ll come home to you,” she vows. Paige’s voice softens to a whisper, her eyes searching yours to make sure you’re listening. “I don’t care what it takes. As soon as my mission is complete, I’ll be flying the first plane out of Europe. You and me?” Paige trails off, squeezing your hand like it’s a lifeline. “We aren’t done here. I still have to make you mine.” You murmur her name, but she shakes her head, needing to finish her thought. “I still have to introduce you to my family – to Drew. There’s so much more we have to do together – that we are going to do together. Okay?”

You gaze at her for a few achingly long moments, trying to memorize the blue of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the way her hair is disheveled because she’s usually so put together and that thought alone makes fresh tears spring to your eyes. Before they can fall, she leans up, pressing her thumbs to your cheeks and her forehead to yours. “I’ll write you letters,” she promises. “Everyday.”

You breathe in deep, trying to remember her scent. You know that you still have the rest of the day with Paige, but it feels like she’s already overseas. Gathering yourself, you nod against her, trying to commit the way her skin feels on yours to memory. “Okay,” you repeat, giving in. Her fingers brush across your skin, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. She’s scanning your features for any hint of a falsehood, but the only thing she sees is a quiet acceptance, the kind that comes when you know you can’t argue anymore or stop something from happening.

She offers you a gentle, wobbly smile, and it does lift your spirits some. If Paige can believe so ardently in something, then so can you. “I’ll be okay,” she says again.

“I know,” you confess, because deep down, you really do think she’ll come back to you. From the very first moment you crossed paths, you learned that Paige was not one to back down. Now, when her choices are coming home to you or not coming home at all, her decision is simple.

Nothing changes when she leaves. You work your shifts, mind obviously elsewhere, but with what you know about her deployment, you know that you can’t dwell on it too much. You have a heftier workload now, maintaining and fixing the ships, so you get lost in the routine.

The bright spot of your week is the first letter comes a few days after she leaves. Somehow, the worn paper smells like her, and you smile at the sign of her looping scrawl, the borderline chicken scratch handwriting. It makes you think of all of the times she’d leave you notes across your house, reminding you that you’re beautiful and that she’s thinking of you. The memory makes your chest ache, so you push it to the back of your mind.

June 3, 1944

To my yardbird,

I just landed in England. It’s very busy here. It’s beautiful, too, and I think you’d like it. I can see us walking down the cobblestone streets together, maybe sometime in the future when the vendors and stalls are in business again. I would probably say something annoying and you’d shake your head, amused and trying to hide your smile, but I would know.

How are you doing? How is the shipyard? The hibiscuses we planted in May? I want to hear everything.

When I sat down to write this, I thought the words would come easy to me. I spent my entire flight thinking of what I would say to you, what I would ask. I thought it would be easy to tell you how desperately I want you and how I count down the hours until I get to see you again. Maybe God’s honest truth is that these aren’t understandings that can be summarized in one single letter – or truths that can’t be summarized at all.

Do you ever think about how you can look up and see the same sky as me, the same stars? I’ve spent a lot of time in the air. I know the clouds like the back of my hand, the way they move, the way the wind currents will guide me home. I know more about the sky than I know of the earth. In my profession, it’s hard to stay grounded – literally and figuratively, but my time with you has reminded me that there is an importance in returning to the soil, spreading my roots, seeking out a future I previously thought I couldn’t afford. You’ve given me hope, a dream, a love.

On my flight to England, I looked to the west and I saw a star. It shone brighter than the rest, glimmering and sparkling despite the fading night. As I’m writing this, I’m staring at the very same star. It makes me feel as though we aren’t so far apart right now, that you could look up and see what I’m seeing. You and I, we’re still connected, two ends of a red string coated in something cosmic and everlasting. When I look to the sky, it’s like I’m looking at you.

I will be home soon. That is my one promise to you. Until then, I hope you’ll look to the sky and look for me, too.

Yours,

–P

You draft your response immediately and send it off with the mail carrier before evening. You don’t know when it will get to her or if she’ll have much time to write back, but before you go to bed that night, you step outside and direct your attention to the western sky. You spot the star she was referring to almost immediately, the way it twinkles against a dark canvas; despite the ache in your heart, looking at it makes you feel a little less alone.

June 7, 1944

To my flygirl,

You make England sound so peaceful. I’m sure it is made all the more beautiful a country by you being in it. I would love to visit with you, when the world is all right and it’s a warm, summer day. Even if we just explore the cities, you have a way of making each moment feel more significant. You turn the mundane into a memory. Wherever you go, you leave a trail of magic behind you, and I am endlessly blessed that God has put me on this earth with you if only so I could follow it.

I’m holding up. The days are long and the nights are short and I miss you more and more each day you’re gone. According to the radios, you flew into Normandy yesterday and the invasion began. I hope you stay safe. The shipyard is busy – we are sending out more and more ships everyday for cargo and for men. Even more come back for repairs. I rarely get a break as of late, although I know my job is an important one. The hibiscuses are healthy, but they bloomed a little brighter when you were here to care for them. I don’t know how you do it. It is as though these things know you – they know you’re gentle, and kind, and that you have this nourishing, uplifting factor about you. They know of your love as well as I do, of what it is like to be without it.

I find myself writing and then pausing. I have so many things I would like to say to you but this paper can only hold so many of my thoughts. I agree that one letter is not enough to express myself fully. However, I know not to worry. You are thoughtful in ways most people never think to be and you have always been talented in understanding me before I’ve been able to understand myself. There are many things you know but I do like saying them. I miss you – isn’t it funny how we always come back to this? I miss you in a way that makes my chest ache. I miss having you in bed next to me and I miss the way you sing in the mornings. I miss you because you are everything I didn’t know I needed and more than I ever thought I deserved.

Remembering that you are under the same sky as me makes me feel a little less alone. Remembering that you see the same stars, the same moon, the same sun reassures me you aren’t so far away. Remembering that you feel the same love reminds me that you’ll be home soon.

With love,

Your yardbird

Over the course of the next several weeks, you continue to work. You continue to gaze at the sky before bed, imagining Paige doing the same before she goes to sleep. You write to her and you read the letters she sends you. They always start the same – an affectionate “To my yardbird” that never fails to bring a smile to your face. She tells you about her days, never once mentioning the toils of the war, only the beauty of the nature around her in spite of the damages around it. She tells you about the other women airforce service pilots – the WASPs – in her platoon and their ineffable courage. Paige tells you about the ones vying to return home to their families, too, and their unshakable determination to make it home.

You reread all of her letters when the sun goes down. Each and every one of them, starting with the one dated from June 3 to her most recent one. At this point, you have all of her letters memorized from the penmanship to the content. You spend hours with your hands clasped as you utter your hopes, prayers, a constant wish for her to be safe.

The weeks tick by. There’s nothing of note on the radio. You get lost in the rhythm of working, of thinking about Paige, of writing letters to her and handing them off to the mail carrier with the same unwavering expression of hope. You remind yourself that you and Paige aren’t done here, and that she’ll be back soon.

Then, her letters slow down ever so slightly. The Allies are pushing for one more coordinated attack, she’d written to you. I’ll be in the air frequently.

All you could do was wait. And hope. And work.

So, you do.

Four more weeks pass by. In that time span, you only get one letter from Paige in the second week, then she’s silent for the next two.

You try to not let the worry ruin your life.

On August 25, the radio at the shipyard crackles to life, announcing, “The Allied advance has liberated France. The Germans are in full retreat.”

You felt as though you could breathe a little easier, but you were still sick without the knowledge of whether or not Paige was okay. You don’t hear anything for two days.

On August 27, you’re leaving work early, a rare happenstance. Given the relative silence of the last few days of the invasion, you and the other women were able to finish repairs fully on the current batch of ships you were working on and you were waiting to get the damaged ones back from overseas. With nothing else to do, you walk your worn path back home, letting pure exhaustion and muscle memory guide you home. You’re too tired to even think, but you do glance up at the antiquities shop as you pass by. It had become a habit over the last twelve weeks, bringing a smile to your face as you remember the day you and Paige had met.

But you stop in your tracks, letting the bustle of the crowd pass you by as you gawk. Part of you can’t believe it, half-tempted to rub your eyes, convinced you’re in the middle of a dream or that the sheer exhaustion of the past three months has finally caught up with you. All you can do is stare, until–

Paige Bueckers cocks one of her signature, amused smiles, her eyes relieved and fatigued all at the same time. Her hair lacks its usual gel, the edges unruly. Her uniform top is buttoned one lower than usual, exposing the undershirt she’s wearing, and the hem is barely tucked into the waistband of her trousers. She doesn’t look injured, just like she could use a really long nap, but the sight of her makes your heart leap out of your chest.

“You’re early today, yardbird,” she comments wryly, glancing down at her wristwatch. “You got a hot date?”

You drop your bag at your feet, coming into her personal space with three quick strides. Judging by her expression, it’s clear she wasn’t expecting this reaction from you, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you cup her cheeks, standing on the tips of your toes to kiss her. Paige melts into you completely, her arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against her with an overwhelming amount of relief. She sighs against you, tilting her head to kiss you deeper, but your hands tremble on her face as you taste the salt on her lips. You can’t believe that she’s here right now. After twelve weeks of aching, of hoping, of believing, she’s here. 

You break away from her when your lungs burn, needing to breathe. Despite the tears, she’s still smiling when she presses her forehead to yours, her eyelids slipping shut like she just needs to absorb the moment and breathe you in. You do the same, your hands sliding down to tangle in the fabric of her shirt. She’s firm, she’s warm, she’s alive and she’s in front of you and you have possibly everything you’ve ever wanted right here in front of you. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into her chest, your voice a little muffled, but Paige’s shoulders shake with laughter, dissolving all of the tension left in your body.

“I told you,” she murmurs, her chin pressing into your temple as she holds you close, “I’d come home to you.”

And if there’s one thing that’s true about Paige Bueckers, it’s that she doesn’t break a promise. Not this one, and certainly not the one she makes to you almost a year and a half later in her backyard when the two of you exchange private vows during a quiet, peaceful, summer afternoon, promising to love each other for the rest of your lives.

2025

As quickly as the memory comes to you, it disappears just as fast, leaving you in a daze. You blink once, twice, wondering if you’d just imagined it all or if that was real. Glancing back down at the photo in front of you, the two women embracing in the middle of a crowded street – one a flygirl, one a yardbird, their features so similar and their expressions so loving, you think that it had felt too real to be fake.

“Hey, you alright?” Paige’s voice echoes from your call, concern laced in her tone, and despite yourself, you can’t help but crack a smile because those were the very first words the aviator had said to you. Perhaps there was more truth to it than you thought.

“I’m okay,” you promise, peering down at the photos again. An idea hits you all at once. “You said you finished practice early, right?” Your girlfriend hums, clearly confused with where you were going with this. “How quickly can you get to this antique store?”

Paige doesn’t keep you waiting too long. She makes it to you in record time, the jingle of the bell above the door capturing your attention. You glance up, spotting her, and the two of you share matching smiles as she strides closer to press a kiss to your temple, squeezing your hip. “Alright,” she murmurs. “Lemme see these pictures.”

You hover silently next to her as she sifts through the pile of pictures you’d accumulated. She lingers on the black and white photo of the pilot and the shipyard worker – describing that photo as you and Paige still feels a little too weird, but you watch as her brows furrow, her eyes lighting up with something that looks like recognition. You don’t even have to ask to know that she’s feeling the exact same thing that you did.

“This is insane,” she mumbles under her breath, which makes you laugh a little, amused. Paige holds the photo gently in one of her hands as she looks through the others, finding one of two teenagers holding hands on their way to a dance, presumably, considering the way they’re dressed. They don’t look as similar to you and Paige as the first photo did, but it still brings back a sense of nostalgia that Paige picks up on, too. “You remember prom? Junior year at Hopkins?” your girlfriend asks, nudging you gently.

You resist rolling your eyes. “How could I not?” you say sarcastically. “Someone saran-wrapped the doors so tightly that the principal had to call the fire department just so we could get in.” Paige laughs. Affection blooms in your chest despite yourself, and you grin, too. “We made the best of it, didn’t we?” Paige hums in affirmation, brushing her fingers across the photo before you before picking up another one. It’s two people laughing on a porch. You can tell they’re lovers by their closeness. “Remember when I rented my first apartment and you helped me move in?”

Her lips curl into a fond smirk. By help you mean Paige stayed over every night for a week straight, delaying your unpacking and “breaking in the new crib,” whatever that meant. You’d enlisted her to help with your furniture, your decor, and building shelves, but you’d go to bed in her arms and wake up to all of your furniture in completely different spots. “Oh no,” Paige would whine, a terrible actress to this day. “Guess I gotta stay and help you fix this.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was intentionally waking up at night and “inconveniencing” you just so she could stay a little longer and annoy you, but you suppose the real kicker was she never really needed an excuse to be near you, anyway. You would have let her stay for the week even if it meant she didn’t fuck up the way your furniture was arranged.

“I still dunno why your furniture kept moving,” she muses, still committed to the bit. “You ever call maintenance? Or security or somethin’?”

You roll your eyes for real this time, pressing a little closer. She raises her arm to rest it over your shoulders. You pick up a photo of a 30’s bride, her veil long over her face. It wasn’t a secret that you wanted to marry Paige someday – the two of you had been together since high school and you both had discussed as much; now, she was entering her final March Madness tournament as a Husky. The two of you were so interwoven into the fabric of each other’s lives that you were sure you would be together until one of you took your last breath.

“You look pretty in white,” she comments off-handedly, like she’s slick, but you know better.

You grin. “You think so?” you ask coyly. She hums again, a smile of her own growing on her features the more she stares at the picture of the bride. “Well, I think you look pretty good in a suit, too.”

“Oh, little ole me?” she croons, faux shyness lacing her tone.

“You’re so annoying,” you say.

“You’ve loved me since we were fourteen,” she reminds you – as if you’d ever forget it. “You’re stuck with me at this point.”

The truth was, you’d be content to be stuck with her for the rest of your life. The other truth was that Paige’s ego was already so dangerously over-inflated that it’s days away from popping like a balloon with too much helium, so you couldn’t possibly admit that to her. The third truth was that Paige knows you love her, just as she loves you, so she didn’t need you to admit it to her, anyhow. The both of you were stuck with each other, not that either of you minded.

“Let’s get these?” you request, and Paige nods, scooping up your selected photos in her gentle hands.

But it still feels like you’re missing something. You have your photos, the memory of a life long passed – which reminds you; you and Paige will be having a lengthy conversation about that memory later today – but it feels as though you haven’t seen everything the universe clearly wants you to see. So you link hands with Paige, scanning the shop once more as you search for the missing piece.

It’s Paige who actually locates it after a few moments of walking. She glances at you meaningfully, guiding you down a row of bookshelves, eyes roaming over its contents like she knows exactly what she’s looking for. At the very end of the line, there’s an old, dusty, leatherbound book covered in cobwebs laying flat on an antique table, as though someone pulled it off the shelves to read and then forgot about it. Paige exhales like it was exactly what she was looking for.

She drops your hand to brush the back of her hand over the front cover, getting rid of the dust and the cobwebs, and then immediately sneezes. It makes you choke on a giggle, the mystery and the intrigue of the moment softened by Paige’s incessant allergies, and the tips of her ears flush red as you whisper a quiet, “Bless you.”

When the cover is clean, she wipes her hands on her shorts and opens the book carefully to the front page. You peer over her shoulder again. The penmanship is in neat cursive, the ink fading with time, but still legible enough for you to read. There’s a date in the top right corner reading 1543 September 9. Paige whistles lowly, holding the book a lot more gingerly now, which amuses you a little bit.

You look at the first line, reading, “Father procured me this journal to document my life and my emotions. He believes that it will help regulate me and, in quote, save me from this phase of rebellion lest I make a mockery of the crown. I am only eighteen. Surely, he must understand that the life of a princess is not one for me.”

Paige blinks once. “Well, that’s heavy.”

“Paige, she’s eighteen.”

“Technically, like…” your girlfriend pauses to do the math in her head, “...Four hundred and…eighty sum’.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself, and when you reach out to turn the page, you’re hit with another memory – only this time, you know that Paige is seeing it too.

1543

“Princess, your father is just trying to look out for you. He is just…a little misguided.”

You huff indignantly as you drag your brush through your hair. You truly do not mean to be this dramatic, but indignance just seems to be the main emotion that your father manages to evoke from you. Ever since you turned eighteen, the “of age” marker determining your eligibility to officially inherit the throne, the King – your father – has been nothing short of particular. Exacting. Expectant. If you’re not studying with your tutor, you’re listening in on his meetings, learning the ins and outs of how to run a country. You’re his only heir, so deep down, you understand why he demands so much from you. There’s a short time between now and when your father won’t be deemed fit to run a country. You’re just upset that being the princess means you can’t be you anymore.

There’s a certain degree of freedom you get used to growing up in the castle. You want for nothing – everything is provided for you, no question about it. You have the best education possible, learning from private tutors all over the world – math prodigies, language experts, philosophers. Everything you could possibly want is at the tip of your fingers. As of late, however, it seems that you may just be broken. 

You long to be outdoors, away from the castle and its stuffy, too large walls. You long to do things for enjoyment and not for obligation. You’re eighteen – you want to be with people your age, not the children of the entitled, pompous bureaucrats that your father rubs elbows with. You want to be you, not the Princess, not the heir to the throne, just you.

It seems there are just some luxuries that one cannot afford, not even monarchs with the world at their disposal.

“‘Misguided’ is one word for it,” you huff, trying to not catch too much of an attitude with your chambermaid, Carlotta. It is not her fault, not in the slightest, and she’s been there for you your entire life – even longer than your father has. “I do not want to be–”

Carlotta hushes you, a gentle, cautious hand resting over your shoulder. You clamp your mouth shut. “You must be careful, Princess,” she murmurs.

“There are eyes and ears everywhere,” you finish, your voice barely a whisper. “I know. I’m sorry.”

That was another thing you loathed about being a royal – the constant paranoia. It is a well-known fact that your father has enemies. Perhaps that is just a fact of life that comes with being king, a political figure, someone in charge of making decisions for millions of people. It is hard to be free when you’re tailed by your father’s most trusted knights and officers.

“It is all right,” Carlotta assures you. “Now come – you must be ready for the banquet.”

You nod, swallowing back your remark, and you allow Carlotta to help you into your gown.

The banquet goes as well as you were expecting. It’s loud, raucous, and full of minging, networking, and brown-nosing. You’re certain that you’ve never faked as many smiles or laughs as you have until today, but once it becomes socially acceptable, you sneak out the back door.

Or, as well as one can sneak when there’s a knight tasked with following your every move.

You glance over your shoulder. Just before the door slams shut, a tall figure in breathable armor slinks through the gap, following you at a respectable pace. However, there’s something that gives you pause.

As irritated as you are at the prospect of being tailed by your father’s appointed guards, you’ve made a habit of knowing who they are. Tristan is your usual suspect – he’s tall, lean, and his armor is recognizable. There’s a crest on his breastplate, signifying that he comes from a family of nobles, but this knight lacks the decorative chestpiece. Every other day, you’re then followed by Maximus. He is a little shorter than Tristan, although in place of a family crest, he has the traditional knight’s insignia – he doesn’t come from a family of nobles; rather, he’s an experienced knight who worked his way up through those ranks.

Whoever is wearing this suit of armor isn’t Tristan or Maximus, and you know that while your father makes a habit of annoying you, he wouldn’t reassign your patrols without telling you. Feeling your heart beat a little faster in your chest, you lengthen your strides, trying to get away from whoever is pursuing you without giving it away that you know they’re an enemy.

The issue with all of the country’s royals concentrated in one wing of the castle means that the large majority of the knights are assigned to that wing. That means there’s little protection through the back corridors. That means you need to find a way to get the knight off of your trail. There’s a variety of things you could be used for. A bargaining chip. An arranged marriage. Perhaps you’d just be killed entirely.

You hang a left, casting another glance over your shoulder. You don’t see the knight round the corner just yet, but you can hear his footsteps pick up speed. Realizing how dire your situation is now, you will your body into a run, thanking Carlotta for putting you in a pair of sandals instead of the heels your stylist had set out for you. The heavy clank of armor follows you down the winding halls as you breathlessly search for your exit.

To your right is a set of tall glass doors, leading into the palace gardens. Confident in being able to find somewhere to hide there, you push the doors open and run outside.

What you’re not expecting to find, however, is a tall blonde woman sparring in the dark. She spins on a dime, her sword lowering, but recognition flickers across her face once she realizes you’re the Princess. You briefly wonder if she’s a knight, too, or if she’s here to kill you, as well, but you throw all caution to the wind, deciding to trust the blue of her gaze. “Help me!” you exclaim, throwing yourself behind her just as the glass doors burst open and the turncoat knight barrels outside.

You realize, perhaps a little too late, that the blonde woman is not wearing armor. She’s dressed in a breathable navy and white tunic, the knight’s crest emblazoned across the chest, and a pair of worn boots. At the very least, she’s drastically more agile than her opponent (and taller, too, you note, although you remind yourself that there’s possibly a time and a place for those sorts of realizations). 

The armored knight draws his sword, a quiet acceptance in his body language like he knows he’ll have to go through the blonde knight to get to you, but she’s rigid, confident, rising to the challenge completely.

They collide in a flurry of sparks, loud groans, and the clang of metal against metal. The blonde, to her credit, doesn’t budge, but the force of their impact sends the armored knight stumbling. Using that to her advantage, she delivers a swift kick to his abdomen, which makes the knight fall to the ground completely. 

“Yield!” she barks, her blade against the soft part of his helmet.

He pauses, gazing up at her as if truly contemplating it, before his own leg jerks out, knocking her off balance. She grunts, dropping to one knee, and he uses her injury to kick her backwards as well. He digs his sword into the soil, using it to lift himself up. The knight spins his sword in his hand, remnants of dirt flying off of his blade, and he stalks towards her like a predator to his prey. All you can do is watch on in horror. 

You’re so focused on the other knight that you don’t notice her fingers digging into the dirt next to her until she comes up with a fistful of soil that she launches directly at his helmet. He recoils with a yelp, disoriented, and the blonde knight locates her sword, slashing out in a quick motion and catching the soft spot where his knee bends. He staggers again and she slams her hilt into his wrist, causing him to drop his sword. She grabs it immediately, dual wielding both blades, and the checkmate move comes when she kicks his injured leg. He falls to his knees and she crosses both of the swords under his neck again, chest heaving and sweat beading at her temple.

“Yield,” she commands. “I won’t ask again.”

He lifts his head ever so slightly, meeting your gaze across the garden. You stand your ground even though you’re rattled and you can feel your pulse in your fingertips. Barely eighteen and I’m already surviving assassination attempts, you think to yourself, Father would be proud. Then, he drops his head again, defeat in his posture. “...I yield.”

By the time he finishes his sentences, the garden doors burst open and more of your father’s nights enter the garden, brandishing their blades. They catch sight of the blonde knight, swords to your attacker’s neck, then settle their gaze on you, breathing heavily but not a hair out of place. “Arrest him,” one of the captains instructs, and another knight surges forward to deal with the attacker. “Secure the Princess. Alert the King immediately.”

The garden is a flurry of activity as the knights disperse. One group leaves as they drag away your attacker. Another group surrounds you as if forming a wall between you and any potential danger. Still, you can’t keep your eyes off of your savior, the blonde woman whose cheek is slightly smeared with blood. You’re not sure if it’s hers or his, but this isn’t a night you’re going to forget for a while – not because of the attempt on your life, but because of this knight’s bravery, her spur of the moment decision to put her life on the line for you, especially against an opponent with far more protection than her.

It’s nearly stupid. She’d behaved so recklessly, but it was her job. So why do you feel so drawn towards her?

Your father arrives with a security detail of his own. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting from him, but he gives you a cursory look over, nodding in approval when he sees that you’re okay, before he turns to his men. “Who allowed this to happen?” He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to, but you think he’s scarier like this – the deadly sort of calm that only comes out when someone is truly pissed. “Who allowed a turncoat knight to nearly kill my daughter?”

His men are notably silent. Your father scoffs, shaking his head, and he turns on his heel, probably ready to storm out until he catches sight of the blonde knight, standing solemnly in the corner. “Who are you?”

Her voice doesn’t waver when she answers, not meeting your father’s eyes out of respect. “Sir Paige Bueckers, Your Majesty.”

He glances at her – armorless, then he glances at the rest of the knights gathered – uniformed. “Why are you here?”

Paige hesitates, looking up to meet your eyes, a silent plea for help. “She saved me, Father,” you answer for her, drawing your father’s attention back to you. She relaxes slightly, gratitude in her expression. “I noticed the knight following me wasn’t one of my usual handlers. So I ran out here to flee and found Sir Paige.” Your father looks at Paige again, studying her in a new light. His quiet contemplation could mean a lot of things. Then, surprising everyone, you say, “Father, I want her reassigned to my guard detail immediately.”

Your father considers this for a few moments longer, then he turns to the captain. “See to it,” he orders. The captain nods emphatically. And with that, your Father returns indoors, his security detail following. The rest of the knights follow until it’s just you and Paige, who stares at you with a mix of shock and curiosity.

You nod at her, softening. “Come. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Paige, unsurprisingly, is not a woman of many words. You don’t expect her to initiate any sort of conversation with you given your status, but she does look at you – a lot – mostly when she thinks that you’re not aware of it. There is nothing inherently inappropriate about her gaze. You can tell she’s curious. You can also tell that she knows she has a duty to do. Her gaze flickers on and off you to scan the hallways for any sort of potential danger and her hand hovers over the hilt of the sword strapped to her waist as if someone would jump at you both from the shadows.

Functionally, she hasn’t said a single word to you since you met her, yet you battle the urge to get to know her. You know that would never be allowed – a royal fraternizing with a knight. It breaches every code of conduct and tradition that you’ve been raised to recite by memory. Despite your knowledge, there seems to be a pull between you and the knight, one that you’re finding harder and harder to resist as you watch her brows tent in concentration, her eyes studying everything about her surroundings as you lead her to the medic.

When the two of you reach the infirmary, she doesn’t say much else, either, only nodding or shaking her head when the physician asks questions like “Does it hurt when I do this?” or “Do you feel any pain here?” You do watch as her face screws up, discomfort in her features, when the physician pokes and prods at her knee.

She’s fortunate, according to the physician, that it is only bruised and she should expect to recover quickly. Taking an armored boot to the knee when you’re wearing only a thin tunic is usually grounds for a fracture or a broken bone. Paige takes the diagnosis in stride, her eyes trailing after the physician as she leaves the infirmary to fetch some herbs from the greenhouse, and shamelessly, your eyes find the knight again. She doesn’t glance at you, but you can tell that she’d like to, so you break the silence to say, “You don’t need to be so formal with me.”

Her throat bobs as she argues, “I do.” Then, as if you’d forgotten, she reminds you, “You’re the princess. Treating you otherwise would be disrespectful.”

You cock a wry smile. “And would disobeying my wishes not also be disrespectful, Sir Paige?”

She pauses, not expecting that one, and finally, she glances up to meet your eyes. Her eyes are startlingly blue, alert despite the exhaustion and the lingering pain of her battle, but they’re kind. They’re soft in a way you would never expect from a hardened knight. They’re gentle when they appraise you, studying your features, and her features relax as if she’s looking at you – truly looking at you – for the first time. “I suppose it would be, Princess,” she agrees. “I apologize.”

Your smile softens, too. “Considering you saved my life today, perhaps we can call it even?” you suggest, trying for a joking tone, and you find that it’s well-received when she chuckles. “Thank you for that, by the way. I would not be here without your courage.”

“I was just doing my duty,” she murmurs humbly. “My only wish is for you to not have had to witness that.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” you say reflexively.

Paige glances at you again, her eyes lingering on your face before a slow smile curls on her lips. “I’m beginning to see that.”

You know she doesn’t intend to say that in any sort of way, but the warmth of her gaze, the approval in her eyes, and her words alone are enough to make your cheeks flush. It’s wrong – that much you’re sure of. You haven’t known the knight for very long, but there’s something so magnetic about her, like you’ve met her before, like you know you’ll be safe with her. This conversation feels like one you’ve had before. That thought doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. Paige just feels right.

Then, she raises her hand, rubbing her face, and she doesn’t realize that she’s reopened the small cut beneath her eye. “Oh,” you say, not nothing much of it as you reach out for a piece of gauze, “you’re bleeding.” Motioning to the wound and ignorant to the way Paige’s breath hitches, you ask, “May I?” She nods and you step between her parted legs, hovering over her as you gingerly reach out with the cotton, fingers light and delicate against her skin, cleaning away the blood. You and Paige are inches apart by now, and the sudden closeness makes your hand tremble, especially when your eyes flick up to meet Paige’s. The expression on her face is almost awestruck, reverent in a way that makes you forget about how dangerous this is. You don’t realize that you’ve planted your free hand on her shoulder, holding onto her to keep her from moving, nor do you realize how her hands grip the edges of the table, knuckles white like she knows it would be wrong to touch you, but the way her breath stutters makes it so obvious that she’s desperate to regardless.

Sobering up, you lean back, red tinging your cheeks as Paige exhales deeply. The physician returns to the infirmary at that time, grinding together herbs in a mortar and pestle and muttering to herself absently. You and Paige exchange a glance, the heat of the previous moment softening as you both put some space between each other, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve stumbled across something that you shouldn’t have – the chemistry between you and the knight. You’ve always been curious and daring by nature; you know yourself well enough to know that you’ll track down that spark and see where it goes, even if it means sweeping the ashes under the rug after it ignites into something you can’t quite stop.

For now, you have to play it smarter. All eyes are on you as you prepare to take the throne from your father, and the last thing you want to do is jeopardize Paige and her future, even if you’ve already done so by assigning her to your personal guard.

Beneath the professionalism, the practiced stoicism that you see right through, you recognize that very same spark reflected in Paige’s eyes – the curiosity, the determination, the willingness to press the match to the kindling if you’d so much as asked. You know this is risky, that this energy between you and Paige is something that will splinter the foundations of the life you’ve grown so accustomed to.

And the worst part of it?

You wouldn’t even mind if it did.

Paige assimilates seamlessly into your routine. You wouldn’t expect anything less from the knight, who adjusts to her new position with a startling quickness and efficiency. Given the recent attack on your life, your father arranged to have her moved to a room only a door down from yours in the Royal Wing of the palace, believing that having her close would allow her to protect you better. She becomes your shadow of sorts, although you had to put your foot down early on in your new…partnership, and force her to walk side by side with you instead of the infuriating ten or so feet away.

“Being close to me would keep me safer, wouldn’t it?” you’d questioned her, by no means trying to be coy about it.

Paige had smiled softly like she knew, amusement and acceptance in her features as she agreed, “I suppose it would, Princess.”

She follows you everywhere – your royal meetings, your appointments with your tutors, to the dining room, and well, if she’s found in your bedroom, listening to you ramble about your latest project, then you’d say it’s for your own protection as much as it’s for the growing friendship between the two of you. When Paige isn’t worried about her professionalism, she talks. A lot. It doesn’t bother you at all. You’re content to listen to her stories, her experiences, her life, how every choice she made throughout the years led her here. Selfishly, you’d think that inadvertently, her choices had led her to you, although you don’t voice that thought at all.

She grew up in a small village a few hours away by horseback – Storrs. It isn’t well known for much except for the cold winters that the locals loathe. She’d recounted her childhood with a fond smile on her face, even the uncomfortable parts like the time she’d hurt her knee severely while sparring or when her parents had divorced. Divorce wasn’t as familiar to you, having been raised in the castle where your father remained with your mother until she passed, even though there wasn’t any love between them after your birth and their failure to conceive a male heir – although that’s a story for another day. When you voiced as such, wondering about the casualness in which she and her parents viewed their separation, she’d merely shrugged and said, “Sometimes people just don’t feel the same love that they did before. Why stick around to force something when your heart’s not in it?”

You’d felt as though that applied to a little more than relationships, considering how you didn’t want to be queen. As much as you trusted Paige, you didn’t think it was the time nor the place to drop that kind of confession on her.

While there’s no more attempts on your life, Paige sticks by you fiercely. If it were anyone else, you’d probably be pissed at the lack of independence, but there’s something about Paige’s company that you cherish, even if it’s just her standing watch at the door while your tutor teaches you philosophy. You like having her around. That thought should scare you much more than it does. For the first time in a really long time, it feels like you’re free. Growing up, you’d never had many friends. Everyone your age was always too aristocratic, too pompous, too entitled. You’d tried, but you could just never get along with them – it was always like you were on the outside looking in no matter what you did differently. With Paige, it feels like you’re shedding all of the past desires to fit in. She makes you feel as though you don’t have to fight your way inside just to be accepted. She makes you feel as though there’s always a place you’ll belong, even if it’s just with her.

So while there aren’t any more attempts on your life, that doesn’t mean your life gets easier. As you progress in your training and you begin to take up more royal duties, there is an increase in the number of suitors that make their way through the castle. Most of them have been arranged by your father, seeking to find a husband to rule next to you – or rather, someone for you to stand next to while they rule. They’re either princes of distant kingdoms, or the high-ranking sons of nobles. You hate all of them. They’re either too old, too stuck-up, too arrogant, or too…male. You’d longed for visions of long, blonde hair, twinkling blue eyes, the gentle way in which the knight spoke to you yet the fierce way she protected you. None of these men were her, and you could tell your father was becoming upset by how often you turned them away.

If you hated them, then you’re not quite sure what word to use to accurately portray the amount of disdain that Paige feels for them. You can see it in her expression alone, the white-hot hatred that burns in her eyes even as she speaks to you politely, calmly. You see it in the way she stands unyieldingly next to you, a hand poised over the hilt of her sword as if she was ready to dispose of whichever groveling idiot was trying to propose, if you wouldn’t deny them yourself. You see it in the way her entire demeanor shifts, the way she grows more confident when you’re alone and her hand curls around your waist and she dips her head down to your ear to whisper, “None of them deserve you. Not a single one of them.”

If Paige hadn’t already ruined you for anyone else, then you’re sure she ruins you completely after that.

At first, you think it’s just her commitment to duty. Paige’s entire job is to keep you safe, protected. If she feels as though these suitors would be too violent, too uncaring, too unfit for you, then you suppose she was well within her right as the princess’s protector to feel however she wanted to feel. Then, you think it’s just hate. She knows you almost as well as you know yourself, if not more. At this point, you’re both a little more than princess and knight. You’re friends who share a mutual duty to a kingdom. However, you realize all too late that it’s actually jealousy.

She stands behind you, her tall stature imposing and intimidating as she stares down the last suitor you had scheduled for today. He’s the prince from a kingdom down south. His name is Oscar and if you had to be honest, you got a bad feeling from him as soon as he strutted in, a black and red cape billowing behind him like he’s already king and has nothing to worry about. You’d even felt Paige stiffen behind you, but you promised your father you would at least talk to your suitors before rejecting them (and you were not keen on sitting through another lecture from him).

The interview goes terribly. You can feel Paige’s mood worsen the more Oscar speaks. He interrupts you countless times, talks over you, and when you do get to speak, he dismisses it like it’s trivial and continues rambling on about his success or his fortune or how well he could lead a kingdom. You knew the conversation was over as soon as he promised he wouldn’t take anymore than five mistresses and you had to stop Paige from jumping across the table and stabbing him entirely.

So, you politely tell him, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re what I’m looking for in a potential king. I have to look after my people.”

You see the shift in his expression before he even raises a hand. You just couldn’t react fast enough to block the swing.

But Paige does. She catches Oscar’s wrist in her hand, her grip so tight that the tips of his fingers were turning purple and he was choking on pain. Then, she slams his hand into the wooden table before you, the surface almost splintering from the force of it. You can hear a sickening crunch, but all you do is raise your brows as Paige leans over you, her gaze set firmly on Oscar. “We’re done here,” she murmurs, her voice low and threatening. “Raise a hand to the princess ever again and I’ll kill you myself. Do I make myself clear?”

You don’t hear what he says, too stunned to focus on anything but the vein that protrudes from Paige’s neck, the challenge laced in her tone, the way her response has left a warm feeling deep in your belly. He scurries out with a metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, the door slamming shut, and you and Paige are left alone in the conference chamber. Paige breathes heavily next to you, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder in both consolation and apology, yet all you fixate on is the way your thoughts race.

Paige is saying something to you, but it sounds like you’re underwater. You push out your chair, standing as she rambles, and you turn on your heel to meet her eyes. There’s still a lingering fire in there although it dwindles the more she talks, concern and something else you can’t quite place taking precedence. Before you have the time to talk yourself out of it or remind yourself of how wrong this is, you curl your fists in the fabric of her tunic and you pull her down to your level.

She immediately freezes against you, the words caught in her throat releasing in the form of an indulgent groan as she finally registers that your lips are on hers. When she relaxes to kiss you back, the intensity is almost overwhelming, like the fire from earlier has returned. She grips your hips possessively, backing you into the table and lifting you onto it for better leverage, one hand dropping to hold your thigh and the other curling around the back of your neck. Paige leans forward, pressing against you like she couldn’t stand to leave any inch of space between you.

The kiss is hazy and it makes your mind spin in the best way possible. You sigh against her, welcoming the intrusion when her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and she holds onto you like she’s scared that you’ll disappear if she lets go. Paige kisses you like you’re hers, which you may as well be. You’re hers to protect, hers to hold – not the princes’, not the nobles’, not anyone else’s.

When you both break away from each other, chests heaving, her voice is rough, low, wrecked when she whispers again, “None of them deserve you.” Her eyes scan yours, her thumb brushing across your pulse point and her breath hitching like she can feel exactly what she’s doing to you. “Not you, the princess. And especially not you, the girl whose heart is as pure as it is kind. The girl who I…”

You swallow thickly, feeling the heat in your cheeks and fighting the urge to pull her back into you as she trails off. “And you do?” you murmur. “Deserve me?”

“I’d fight a hundred men and a hundred men more if it meant proving that to you,” she vows. You know her well enough by now that you don’t need her to prove anything more to you. She already has. Your heart is hers. “This isn’t just a duty to me,” she confesses a few beats later, her voice hardly above a whisper like she’s confessing a secret. “It’s real. What you are to me is real. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing will,” you say, confident and assured. “I’m safe with you.” Paige nods, her hands warm against your skin, and you press your temple to hers to admit, “For you, I’d run away and leave it all behind.”

You feel her freeze against you, surprise, mostly. She leans back to meet your eyes. “Princess, you don’t mean that,” she says quietly.

You nod vehemently, your fingers tightening in the fabric of her tunic. “I do, Paige, I swear it.” She softens, taking in the conviction in your tone. “I don’t want this – I don’t want to marry someone else. I don’t want to be the queen. I want you, a life of peace, where I don’t have to worry that someone will try to kill me or if I’m making a decision that will kill my people. I want peace.”

The silence lingers. There’s a realization in the wake of your declaration that in your position, you could never afford peace. Princesses don’t get peace, or a life of ease, nor do they ever get the one they love. Knights don’t get peace, or a life of ease, nor do they ever get the one they love. You know you’d give it up in a heartbeat if you could find the courage to. You study Paige’s features closely, waiting for her to speak. She swallows thickly before she does.

“Storrs,” she whispers, confusing you. “My village. We can go there – just say the word and I will take you, I swear it. I don’t owe anything to this kingdom. My loyalty is to you. We’ll be safe there, free, and you can do everything you’ve wanted – you can teach, you can explore–”

“Okay,” you agree.

Paige pauses. “What?” she asks, trying to keep the hope at bay.

“We’ll go to Storrs,” you repeat, a smile growing on your face.

“You mean it?” Paige murmurs, her voice cracking, and all you can truly do is cup her face in your hands, kissing her once more. This one is softer, the perfect seal to the promise you’ve just made to each other, and it feels more right than a crown on your head ever will. Her embrace makes you feel more secure than a legion of your father’s men ever could. You know in your heart that this is where you belong.

Happiness doesn’t last for too long. 

When you wake up the next morning, you can feel that something is off. Paige is usually already awake, standing guard at your door and waiting for you to come out for breakfast. Now, there’s an unusual silence that lingers and it makes you feel on edge.

Instead of Paige at your door, you find Carlotta, wearing an uncomfortable expression on her face. Dread wraps its fist around your heart, squeezing tight, and your chest hurts when you ask, “Carlotta, what’s going on?”

“Your father has requested your presence in the throne room immediately,” she says to you, her voice shaking. You swallow thickly, afraid of what waits for you. You cast an uneasy glance at the door to Paige’s room, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but still feeling as though something is terribly wrong. Carlotta follows behind you as you walk through the winding corridors, anxiety coursing through your veins.

The scene awaiting you in the throne room is not one you could have ever prepared yourself for. Your father sits idly atop his throne, an almost nonchalant laziness in his body language. He’s surrounded by his usual guard detail. Your body burns with anger when you realize Oscar is standing right next to him, his hand wrapped in gauze and a splint, a malicious expression on his face. But what truly devastates you, what makes fear seize your heart entirely is Paige held firmly in the knight captain’s grasp, her hands and ankles shackled. She looks no worse for wear, only disheveled and her bun mussed from an evident fight, but her eyes burn bright with hatred and something that looks like failure.

“My daughter,” the King calls across the room. Everyone directs their attention to you, but you’re not prepared for the amount of grief and shock on Paige’s, like she wasn’t expecting you to see her like this. “Come – we have much to discuss.”

There it is again. That same steely calm from the night in the gardens. Your father isn’t the kind of man to yell – people with power and trained men at their disposal have no need to raise their voices – which is why his demeanor in this situation makes you fearful. Not for yourself, but for Paige.

“I’m not a man who shies away from admitting when he’s wrong,” your father continues when you step closer. “Accountability makes for strong leaders. I’ve always told you that, haven’t I?” You scan his features, your gaze giving nothing away. He’s not looking for a response. “It seems I’ve made a mistake in knighting an individual. Where she goes, trouble follows, such as the night in the garden. And now, with the suitors.” Your father cocks his head, looking perplexed. “Prince Oscar has suffered several broken bones and a fractured wrist due to…your knight being unable to control her anger. Alas, it has come to my attention that she has also filled your head with lies, deceit, and empty promises.”

He stands, his sea of guards parting for him as he makes his way towards you, towards Paige. “If she wants to run away, so be it. If this turncoat knight no longer wants to give back to the kingdom that has made her, that has given her the life she has now, then so be it. What I will not allow is for her to manipulate my daughter – the Princess – into leaving with her.

“So,” he muses, ushering Prince Oscar forward, who gazes at you like he’s won. “We are here to make an example. The monarchy will not be mocked. My daughter, tomorrow at sunset, you will be wed to Prince Oscar. He will be your king and you will inherit the throne. And your knight –” he spits the word like it’s venom, clear distaste evident in his features, “–will be executed at nightfall for treason against the crown.”

Your ears are still ringing.

Your father’s revelation left you numb, reeling. You watched as his men dragged Paige out of the room, her eyes locked on yours in surprise, disbelief, and ever-present grief. Your father had more to say to you, but you weren’t listening. Being forced to marry Oscar of all suitors was at the back of your mind. All you could think about for hours on end was your knight will be executed at nightfall. The word executed circulated through your mind on repeat along with images of Paige’s eyes, betrayed and disappointed all at one.

This wasn’t the plan. You and Paige were supposed to run away. You were supposed to leave kingdom life behind and go to Storrs together. You were supposed to live a life of peace in a small village where the crown couldn’t possibly find you. You’re not supposed to marry Oscar, or watch the love of your life be executed. This was all so horribly wrong.

You’re confined to your room for the entire day, your father feeling as though you would find a way to escape or look for Paige. He knows you better than you’d expected. With nothing but time on your hands, you wait. You cry. You scream and you break the mirror in your room because when you look at it, all you can see is the way Paige had stood behind you as you asked for her opinion on your dress and her jaw had gone slack before she whispered, “I think you’re the most beautiful woman the world has ever seen.” You spiral, because you were so close to making it out but your father and Oscar have derailed your plan.

At nightfall, 24 hours away from Paige’s scheduled execution, Carlotta knocks at your door. She lets herself in when you don’t respond. You hardly look up, even when she takes a seat on the foot of your bed. She’s silent for a few moments before she says, “I’m sorry, Princess.”

You laugh bitterly, the sound scraping against your throat. “It’s not your fault, Carlotta.” Even if it was, you don’t want to think about it. This woman has raised you since you were a baby. You weren’t sure if you could ever handle that heartbreak.

“It’s not,” she agrees softly. She clears her throat. You can almost feel her hesitation. “I was next to your mother when she passed on,” she admits. That confession makes your heart skip a beat. “I held her hand as she was taking her final breaths. I’d loved her, you know. Your father never knew. He didn’t care to. But when I watched my life’s greatest love die, it was a pain unlike anything else I’d ever experienced. I thought a part of me died that day. Your mother, however, entrusted me with something special to her – a part of her. She made me promise to take care of her daughter – the Princess – and to this day, you are the most important person to me.”

“Carlotta,” you murmur, tears pooling in your eyes and your voice cracking. “What are you saying?”

“You love her,” she says, like it’s more fact than fiction, like it’s something as obvious as the sky is blue or the grass is green. “Sir Paige. She is your life’s greatest love. I couldn’t save my love. But there is still hope for yours.” She stands, drawing your attention as you feel her move. There is a folded piece of parchment in her hand. Carlotta presses it into your hands. “Read this, and do not lose your faith, Princess.”

Carlotta leaves before you can say – before you can ask anything else of her. Your mind spins as you look down at the paper in your hands, at Paige’s familiar, sloped handwriting. Fingers trembling, you unfold it, and you begin to read.

Princess,

I did not think I would get to speak with you after they dragged me out of the throne room in handcuffs, so you will have to forgive me if this letter is incoherent. It is difficult for me to wrap my head around the idea – the fact, rather, that I will be dying at nightfall tomorrow.

Being a knight, I had always known that my death would be imminent. My profession is not safe. My duty is to put my life on the line for the kingdom, for the king and the princess. I knew of that long before I picked up my sword for the first time. I had always imagined that it would be in combat – perhaps I would be fighting those hundred men and the hundred men more that I had spoken of. Perhaps I would be the lucky one and die of age after living a life of valor, dedication, and virtue. Execution had never crossed my mind.

If there is one part of my life that I could pick out and say is the greatest moment of it, I would say that meeting you is it. Not being knighted for the first time or my father teaching me how to wield a blade. It was you. It is always going to be you. You are my purpose, my reason for fighting. You have made my life worth it, even if we were only a short time.

I want you to know a few things. First, this is not your fault. If I knew the outcome from the very beginning, I would choose you everytime without question. A moment with you is worth an eternity wherever my soul takes me next. Second, do not give up. You are kind, courageous, brilliant – I know you will think of something. Third, I miss you. I have only been apart from you for a few hours, but I miss you; if I knew of a way to make you miss me the way that I do, I would never dare to make use of it for you are undeserving of such an all-consuming ache. The fourth is that I love you. I planned on telling you once we made it to Storrs, after I had introduced you to my family. You deserve to know.

You are my greatest love, Princess. In this life and the next I will never give up on searching for you.

Eternally,

–P

By midafternoon the day of your wedding and Paige’s execution, you can tell that something has shifted once more. The palace is eerily silent. Again. It almost makes you worry, but after considering that your life couldn’t get any worse, you decide that the silence is a problem for you in the future. For all intents and purposes, you’re still essentially trapped in your room, and you spent the better part of the night and the entire day leading up to this moment rereading Paige’s letter to you. It didn’t make you feel any better about the situation, but you try to remember Carlotta’s words to you. They give you strength when you feel like all else is failing.

The minutes tick by until you hear tapping on the glass door leading to your balcony. Believing it may only be a bird, you think nothing of it until the tapping persists, louder this time. The glass is textured, so you can’t see out of it, but you reach for the first sharp object you can find – in this case, it’s one of your heels – and you creep towards the door, pushing it open with caution.

You freeze immediately. The heel slips out of your grasp and Paige is standing before you, her tunic rumpled and exhaustion in her eyes, but she doesn’t look hurt, and that’s all you can truly be thankful for. “I was beginning to think you weren’t home,” she murmurs, a coy smile on her face that is not befitting of the moment, and you could sob as you throw your arms around her neck. She wraps her arms around your waist, lifting you off of your feet. Paige buries her face in your neck, breathing you in and sighing in relief – you’re both okay. You don’t know what to say, stammering through words that don’t make any sense, but Paige squeezes you a little tighter, shushing you.

After a moment, she places you back down on the ground, drinking you in like she can’t believe this is real. Then, she smiles softly. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she says quietly. “Carlotta is waiting for us at the stables. Get your bag and whatever else you need. She’ll take us to Storrs.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, all you can do is nod, wiping your eyes as you retrieve the bag you’d packed after you and Paige agreed to leave. You make sure to slip into a pair of more comfortable shoes and you don’t forget to grab her letter stashed under your pillow. When you’re ready, she guides you down the wall of the palace and into the garden below, creeping through the bushes until you reach the stables. You hug Carlotta so tightly that she groans, laughing, and together, you, Paige, and Carlotta make the journey on horseback to her village.

Her village welcomes you and Carlotta in – they’re definitely a little shocked, but they’re happier to have Paige back and safe. She introduces you to her family, her mom, her dad, her step-parents, her brother and her step-siblings and they all treat you like one of their own, a blended family that’s no less full of love. They own a small little shop, one that dabbles in selling antiquities and artifacts from ages ago. You can see yourself splitting time between working there and teaching the village children, but most importantly, you can see yourself free, in love, and happier than you ever would have been in the castle. It will surely be a national emergency when the King realizes that the princess, the knight, and the chambermaid have all escaped, but you think that’s a problem for someone else.

For the record, Paige does tell you she loves you – in person, not through a letter – that night after you’ve been fully introduced to everyone and her mothers worked together to make a hearty dinner for you and Carlotta. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of having – a love that’s wholly yours, a life to share with someone who cherishes you, and the freedom to live the life you’ve always wanted. You were always destined to find this – destined to find Paige, to love her, to give her your heart completely; the two of you have always been connected by that red string of fate and wherever your souls take you next, you know you’ll find her there, waiting for you.

2025

The memory fades and you and Paige blink in tandem, your hands still resting over the book as you look at each other. Almost no time has passed, although the both of you look like you’ve lived a whole new life entirely, which you may as well have. Paige breaks the silence to mutter, “I was a knight in a past life and in this one, I have to do homework?” Her disbelief makes you laugh, all of the tension dissolving as she joins in with you.

“Says you,” you retort. “I was a princess.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “You ain’t never letting that one go.”

“Nope!” you chirp happily. Paige rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the smile off of her face as she closes the book gently. You intertwine your fingers with hers, giving her a squeeze. “Hey, you okay?” you ask.

Paige nods, her smile widening. She leans in to kiss you softly, which makes you grin against her. “Never better,” she assures you. “I was right, though.” You hum, gazing up at her, and she reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “You are my greatest love.”

“You’re mine, too,” you promise, wrapping your arms around her neck as she pulls you into a hug that feels lifetimes in the making. “We’re timeless, aren’t we?”

[mixelation]

i try not to get political on this blog, as it is in the end a naruto blog. however im not sure how aware of this the average person is. right now is a REALLY bad time to be a scientist in the US. a lot of grants and funding mechanisms are being canceled with no warning or real explanation, there are freezes on awarding or paying out grants, and there's hiring freezes both in academia and industry. this is includes retroactively cancelling ongoing grants for vague reasons like no longer being in line with the current administration, something which afaik has never really been done at this scale before. talking to scientist friends these past months has just been a wave of stories about early career scientists losing funding (that means for most people, losing their JOB) with no real hope for securing a new one. the proposed 2026 budget will massively cut money to the NIH and NSF (the two biggest funding agencies for biology). no one really knows what is going on, and the tone of most discussions for future planning are uncertain, deeply stressed, and afraid.

some of the end results of this are obvious. the US is a powerhouse for science and research (i've mentioned this a couple times-- i have looked into moving abroad more than once but the opportunities in the US for my field are (were) simply way better career-wise), and shutting down research means cutting research that's immediately applicable to human and environmental health that will have a global effect. it also slows basic research with less immediate application to the average joe, but which builds the foundations of knowledge to be able to do that more applied research and development. science, tech, and higher education is also one of our biggest exports, so this dismantling of research will hurt the economy even more.

some results will be less obvious. a lot of very educated people are about to lose their jobs. i've read a lot of anxiety from early career people about the market being flooded and over competitive, so entry-level positions are not obtainable by entry-level people, essentially pushing them out of science and creating a situation where "the next generation" is cut at its knees. i've seen anxiety about this from people in other countries because academics are, compared to other demographics in the US, pretty likely to look into moving abroad, and also talented scientists from outside the US who might have wanted to move there for career purposes are more likely to stay in their home countries or look into other countries, making those job markets worse. i've even gotten some targeted ads about moving to scandinavia. making the job market more competitive doesn't help anyone-- it means fewer opportunities for good scientists to do good research. also, building up a destroyed system is always harder and longer than tearing it down. if things continue like this, the damage will take decades to repair. that's decades of stagnated research and development with international impact.

so. i don't know. call your reps and ask them to stand up for science. give your local scientist a hug. and let me know if you know any european labs hiring for 2026

[sturniqlo]

Tests Found- C.S

summary: Nick and Matt find out Y/n and Chris are having a baby, but not the way Y/n and Chris intended to.

cw: none? just cursing

masterlist | positive masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

five weeks pregnant

It had been about two weeks since Y/n and Chris found out they were expecting a baby. Ever since that day Chris stayed over at Y/n's apartment every other day. Nick and Matt haven't been suspicious at all. Y/n and Chris wanted to keep it private just until Y/n had reached her second trimester to make sure everything was fine with their baby. However, it didn't go as planned.

"Hi, babe. We're here." Chris speaks into the phone as he calls Y/n. He doesn't ring her buzzer anymore because it now annoys her. "Ok, I'll buzz you in." She softly speaks. She gets up off the couch and goes towards the door to buzz the boys in. After a couple of seconds, she lets it go. She unlocks the door, and heads back to her spot on the couch.

Chris, Matt and Nick, all head up to the fifth floor where her apartment is. Matt thought of the idea for all four of them to hangout since Matt and Nick haven't seen Y/n ever since she picked them up from the airport. Which was a little over three weeks ago. Both Nick and Matt became really close to Y/n after her and Chris had been dating for two months. They both thought of her as a sister as soon as Chris told them she was the one seven months into their relationship.

"Hellooo!" Chris says as soon as he opens her front door. "I'm in the living room." He hears her say. He quickly takes his shoes off and speeds off to her before his brothers get to her. "Hi, baby." He leans down and gives her a kiss on the lips. He looks then left to see that his brothers are struggling to take their shoes off. "Hi, babe." She says with a smile. "How our little apple seed, hm?" Ever since last week, Chris has been looking up how big their baby is and what it's compared to. "They're fine, made me throw up my toast with butter, but I feel fine now." He frowns, and sits next to her. "Hopefully your morning sickness goes down-" He gets cut off by Nicks loud voice.

"Y/n! Im here too." Nick sounds offended as she only pays attention to Chris. "Hi, Nick. I was waiting for you, did it really take you two that long to get your shoes off?" Y/n gets up and hugs Nick, then Matt. "I tied them to tight."

"How have you been?" Matt sits down on the smaller couch. "Good, I've just been staying home really. You?" Y/n places her head on Chris' shoulder. "Same, just stayin' home." He says. "So, what are our plans?" Nick asks. "Lunch, shopping, dinner, come back here and watch some movies?" Matt replies looks at the three of them. "Sounds good."

The four of them stay in the living room for half an hour until they're ready to go. "Y/n do you have one of those tooth flossers?" Nick asks, picking at his teeth from the popcorn he had found in her pantry. "Yeah, they're in my bathroom under my sink somewhere." Nick gets up and heads to her room. "Wait for me, I need one too." Matt gets up and follows Nick.

"Have you made an appointment?" Chris asks Y/n once Matt and Nick are out of earshot. "Yeah! We have it a week from now." She says excitedly. "Okay, what time so I can clear my schedule." Y/n pulls her phone out to check her email for all of the details.

In Y/n's bathroom, Nick is searching all over her bathroom cabinets. "How does she have so many cabinets in here?" He closes one door just to open another one. "Umm, Matt? Can you help?" He sees Matt fixing his hair in the mirror. "She clearly said the one under the sink." Matt crouches down and open the one under the sink. While Nick searches the other ones. Matt digs around in the cabinet and comes across what they were looking for. "Found them." He gets up and dangles the bag in front of Nicks face.

"Well, open it up!" Nick yells motioning to the bag. "Here." Matt hands Nick one and grabs one for himself before putting it back. As he puts them back where they were, some stuff falls out of the cabinet on to the floor. "Fuck." He says. As he looks to see what fell Nick gasps when he sees what it is. "Oh my god!" He whisper yells and closes the bathroom door fast. "What?" He looks at Nick and back to what fell on the floor. "Oh my god!" He says. Matt picks them up and places all four onto the counter. "Are they positive?" Nick says with his hand placed over his mouth, the flosser long forgotten.

"I'm not sure, kinda scared to check." Matt says, tossing his flosser in the trash. "I'll check." Nick leans over them and examines them. "Holy shit." He turns to Matt. "Are they?" Nick nods. "Oh my god." Matt whispers. "Do you think they're her tests?" Nick asks. "No duh. They're in her bathroom."

"Should we call her in?" Matt nods. In the living room, Y/n sends Chris all the details about their upcoming appointment until she hears Nicks voice. "I'll be back. I don't think they found them." She walks towards the bathroom and sees the two of them standing in front of the sink. "Did you guys find them?" She asks. "Yes but," Nick closes the door behind her before he finishes talking. "We found something else." Matt grabs the tests by the white part and shoes Y/n as if she's never seen them before. "Oh," Her heart drops. "Are you pregnant?" Nick whispers.

Y/n nods. "Does Chris know?" Matt asks curiously. "Yeah." She looks between them two nervous about their reactions. Matt places the tests carefully on the counter and goes to Y/n to hug her. "Congrats, Kid."

"Make some room for me!" Nick smiles and joins in on their hug. "Now I kinda feel bad." Y/n pulls away a couple of seconds later. "What? Why?" Nick says. "Chris was excited to tell you guys in a fun way." Matt frowns.

The door opens and Chris comes in. "What's going on?" He says. "They found the tests." Y/n says and his mouth turns into an 'O'. "Surprise?" He says. "Chris you're going to be a DAD!" Matt says and goes to hug him and Nick follows behind. "How'd you guys find out?" Matt asks. Looking at the couple with a smile on his face. "I was sick for like weeks, still am though. But, Chris noticed I was late for my period and he went and bought the tests and I took them, and obviously they were positive."

"When did this happen?" Nick adds on. "Right before we left for Boston, the night before act-" Nick gasps. "Not when the baby was conceived you sicko! I mean when did you guys find out?" He swats Chris' arm. "we found out two weeks after you guys had came back. So I'm five weeks right now."

"We were going to tell you guys after the first trimester. But, you guys just had to ask for a damn flosser." Chris was pretty bummed, he wanted to tell them in a special way, and he wanted it captured on video. He had wanted to tell them with a blindfold challenge and him and Y/n would give them baby stuff to try and guess until he would hand them the pregnancy test. "I had popcorn in my teeth! Still do!" Nick yells.

Forty minutes later, they're now at lunch. "I still can't believe Y/n is pregnant." Nick picks at his food. "Me either!" Y/n sips her water. "How big is the baby? Do you know?" Matt says, across from Chris. "The size of a fucking apple seed! That's crazy like, an apple seed is tiny." Chris brings his thumb and pointer finger together to match the size of an apple seed. "That's crazy." Matt and Nick both say, Y/n laughs.

"Have you guys told anyone else?" Nick suddenly asks. Y/n shakes her head and Chris responds. "No, you guys are the first to know. Like we said, we were waiting for the first trimester to end to make sure everything was right with the baby."

"Can we go baby shopping?" Nick says.

[thecordelialetters]

The Bionic and the Ballerina

Chase Davenport x fem!reader

wc: 2,495

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

An exchange student comes to mission creek to do 3 things: pass highschool, dance, and fit in. But when a certain bionic boy comes into her life she realizes that maybe her dreams just got a little bit bigger.

It’s been a week since the bionic siblings began living like regular teenagers—going to school, getting cell phones, and attending various events. They’ve mostly adjusted to socializing with their peers and trying to blend in. Each sibling has faced their own set of typical teenage challenges, from first dances and forgotten homework to pep rallies. But aside from Bree, their experiences with romance have been a bit lacking

This morning Bree rushed in the main doors almost knocking Leo over in the process. "Guys guess what ! I head there's a new exchange student from the France who’s here for the next 3 years. I've heard she super popular already and she just started." Bree jumped up and down excited for the potential to have a new friend. It was hard for her to make good friends after growing up in a lab with only boys. But a new person meant someone who had yet to figure out her quirks and weird family, that meant a possibility they could be friends.

Leo stood straight after brushing himself off. "Yeah I saw her in my art class. She's pretty and nice. She even told Trent off for knocking my books over. Oh there she is!" He waved his hands frantically trying to signal the new girl down. Chase turned around to see the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. You were beaming at the siblings, bouncing your way over in a short white sundress paired with a light pink cardigan. Two red bows adored the sides of your braids and your pink lips moved in slow motion. Chase's hand instantly began to sweat. Even since the Danielle incident he's been hesitant about approaching girls. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested more so the other way around. Although the confident front he put up, Chase felt he lacked the charisma and social skills compared to Adam and Bree.

Your voice rang out like a soft symphony, your french accent sounded like luxury in his ear. You started talking more but he blanked on what you were saying, too focused on the way your smile looked. Until a big hand punched him in the gut making him lurch forward. "Dude she asked your name." Adams chuckled.

You gasped and put your hands on his shoulders trying to comfort him. "Are you okay?" One of your perfectly manicured hands ran down his chest while the other patted his back to help him stand back up.

"Yep this is a pretty much everyday occurrence," He replied. Chase turned a deep red, he just met this girl and already his family is trying to embarrass him. "Hey don't worry about it, I grew up on a farm with 5 older brothers. You had to endure to survive." You laughed before introducing yourself. "Im (y/n) I just moved here. Leo says I have a lot of classes with you."

“Yeah dude she’s super smart! You guys have the same schedule.”

“ I’m a bit of a smart guy myself , I could help you out sometime,” Leo flirted, waking in front of Chase.

“That’s awfully nice I might have to take on the offer one day! But I better start heading to chemistry, don’t want to be late.” You chuckled. You were thankful for Leo’s directness but you didn’t come all the way here for romance. “I’ll walk with you!” Chase pushed Leo aside sending him tumbling into the lockers. “In fact I’ll escort you to all your classes.” He held out his arm.

You blushed and looped your through his, shocking him and his family. “That’s very kind of you Chase I’d be happy to be your partner for the day.” He beamed back at you. The two of you walked off leaving the rest of the Davenports in awe. "No way that just happened." Leo managed to say through a dropped jaw. "Maybe the guys in her hometown are really ugly." Bree determined. With a hum of approvals the group split to attend the rest of their classes. Meanwhile Chase and you were having a great time. Since no one wanted to parter or sit with the know-it-all teacher pet, you could hang out with Chase the whole day. The two of you developed a bond during these cruel morning hours. Chase found you to be a beautiful girl inside and out. You never laughed at or ridiculed him for odd tendencies and intelligence. In fact you were in awe of him. The way your big doe eyes stared him over his shoulder in chemistry while he was showing you how to do the lab, and then praising him for being so smart, really fed his ego. Compared to his siblings who made fun of him for his excitement, you encouraged it. The two of you came stumbling into the lunch room, once again arm in arm laughing about a cringy joke Chase made. "So a neutron walks into a bar, and asks the man ar the counter how much for a beer?"

Chase waved his arm as if to say ta da "He says for you no charge!"

He threw his head back laughing at his own joke while you chuckled next to him. Leo walked up to you, "He boring you yet? You don't have to be nice to him."

Chase glared at Leo. Typical his family would try to drive away the one nice thing in his life. But you weren't the kind of person who would be swayed so easily. "As a matter of fact Leo, he has been the most welcoming and I thoroughly enjoyed our time today." You sat down at the table next to Bree. Chase smirked back at Leo become taking the seat next to you.

In one swift motion you lifted out your lunchbox and with a thud hit the table. Bree looked at your lunch in shock "Dang girl, you got bricks in there?" She lifted it up with one hand slowly. You laughed, it did seem excessive. "No just a lot of food and snacks, I have to maintaining my food intake for training." You poped opened the lid and it was filled with healthy greens, carrots, rice, chicken and fruits.

"Training?" Adam questioned. "Hey maybe she's like us-" Before Adam could revel anymore Chase quickly interrupted, glaring at him before saying "Training for what?"

You looked at him with half a peach stuff in your mouth. "Fwor danch" Chase laughed at your cute face and moved to wipe some juice on your cheek with his thumb. You quickly swallowed your fruit, "For dance, I'm a ballerina. I train in the morning and everyday afterschool so I need to eat all this food."

You pulled another little baggie out of your backpack. "Dont tell me you have more food." Bree said. "Yes but this isn't for me." You opened the baggie to reveal a cupcake. It was chocolate with marshmallow fluff on top and a kit kat sticking out of it.

You pushed your hands to Chase, "It's for you, thank you for helping me today." Chase gently picked up the cupcake from your hands, "Wow Thank you (y/n)." Leo snapped out of his daze before whispering to Adam "We must be in an alternate reality because no way that just happened." Chase savored the taste of the cupcake you so graciously gave him. It tasted so rich and sweet. As he bit into it he imagined you in the kitchen making it. Maybe you wore a nice white apron with hearts on it with your hair tied in a messy bun. Your kitchen probably looked straight out of a cottage, filled with your garden goods and the smell of fresh pastries in the air. You noticed Chase had gotten a little of the marshmallow fluff on the edge of his lips and reached out with your pointed finger to wipe it off. The bionic sibs watched you slowly wipe the fluff before bringing it to your mouth, licking the white cream off. You looked around the table finding them staring at you before shrugging it off. After school, you were at your locker packing up your books to go home when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around you came face to face with Chase. He looked a bit nervous rubbing his neck and looking away from you. "Hey I had a lot of fun today, would you maybe...want to come over? I know our history test is coming up and since you new I'd be a good way to study." Chase braced himself for rejecting. Even though he thought the two of you connected, a small part of him expected you to laugh in his face and never talk to him again. You looked the time then at Chase. "I'd love to, but I have practice now. I'll be done around 5? I can come over after that if it's not too late?" You bit your lip looking at him.

It was hard making friends with your schedule. You were used to losing them faster than you could make them since you always had to cancel plans. But Chase was different, he was a sweet guy. "Sure Ill text you my address?" You nodded and pulled out your phone to exchange numbers. Little did you know his nosy family was right around the corner watching your exchange. The whole day they were in awe of what happened. Chase having game? Talking to a girl and she wasn’t scared away by him? They ducked behind the wall as the two of you turned to leave the school. Adam spoke up, "Oh I can't wait to mess with him tonight." Rather than let his younger brother have a chance, Adam was keen on pranking him. Bree sighed "There goes the one normal girl I was supposed to make friends with."

Chase was busying cleaning the living room making sure everything was spotless. He prepared snacks, took a shower, and wore his best plaid shirt. He wanted everything to be perfect before you came. He informed Tasha and Davenport he was bringing a girl over to study, and through wide eyes they supported him. The one road block to his study date...Adam, Bree, and Leo. "Guys this girl means a lot to me. She's funny and sweet. Thinks I'm NOT a freak. And she's the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on. Please I mean PLEASE. Do not do anything stupid." He looked at the group who didn't seem too convinced, "I will do everyone's homework for a week." He watched their reactions light up a bit. "Make it a month and you got a deal." They bargained. He groveled a little and shook their hands "Fine but I'm serious, no pranks, no running in, no trying to bring out Spike." The siblings nodded in agreement before separating. Chase breathed out a heavy sigh, It wasn't like he was trying to become your boyfriend right now, he just really liked you and wanted to get to know you.

In the back of his mind, he thought it was only a matter of time before someone better came up to you and would replace him. Chase wanted to make a lasting impression before that could happen, then maybe just maybe you would stick around. You arrived slightly later than promised, 5:30. You were about to knock open the door when it swung open revealing the kind boy you had met on your first day of school. "You weren't standing at the door waiting for me right?" a nervous laugh following your statement. "Im sorry I took so long but practice ran a bit later."

Chase grabbed your hand to lead you in, "Don't worry about it, we still got plenty of time." You smiled at him and tucked your hair behind your ear. Chase noticed he had yet to let go of your hand, but you made no indication of discomfort so he kept his hand in yours. You followed Chase through a quick tour of the house meeting Tasha who was shocked by your presence saying "Wow, you're super pretty. Omg you're the girl Chase was talking about! I'm so excited we can start having girls' days with Bree and-" before she could embarrass him anymore you were pulled away back to the living room. The two of you spread out your work and began studying. Out of the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but stare at Chase. He was so handsome to you, his olive skin and beauty marks combined with his beaming smile when he talked about his interests. The beating within your chest seemed to quicken and the heat rushed to the apples of your cheeks when he caught your gaze. "Sorry." You said.

"For staring. You're just... I think you're beautiful." Chase looked down. He wasn't used to compliments. He also used to think beautiful was only for girls. But your sincerity and the way you spoke made him feel different about the word. A few hours into studying the American Revolution your head was starting to feel heavy swarming with information. You plopped your forehead on Chase's sturdy shoulder and closed your eyes. "If I read any more words my brain is going to explore." A hand reached to pat your head. Chase could smell your expensive perfume on your, the scent of roses and books invaded his heightened senses. He closed his eyes as well and inhaled deeply. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes simply enjoying the contact. In the kitchen 3 sets of eyes could be seen watching the new friends. "What are they doing?" Bree questioned. They've been watching for a while but now it seemed the pair was just silent. "I think they're sleeping? Cuddling?" Leo commented. You made the first move to lift your head off of Chase's shoulder. "Sorry I didn't mean to doze off there, you're pretty comfy." Chase laughed, "Don't worry about it. It's getting late." You got up and gathered your stuff. Chase handed you your textbook and savored the feeling of your hand reaching his. Your skin was soft and smooth, he wanted to be able to hold it but it was too soon for that. He stopped you before you reached the door. "Hey let me walk you home, where do you live?" You gazed into his hazel eyes, the boy was a gentleman you had to give it to him. "Don't worry about it! I live 2 minutes away on my bike. It's not far." You proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and planted a kiss on the cheek leaving a light pink mark. "Thank you for today and helping me. I'll see you tomorrow, Chase." Leaving him frozen you walked out of the Davenport residence with a permanent smile and and eagerness for the next day.

Authors Note: I couldn't help myself. I've been reading soo many fanfics that I needed to write my own Chase one. I know this start is super sappy but I plan to continue this and follow along the show more. Don't worry I haven't given up on my Five fics Im rewatching the seasons to get a jump start on those.

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 6

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt. 5

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You’re a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and you’ve now had two three four extremely intimate encounters with grade 1 sorcerer Nanami Kento, but who's keeping count.... You're preparing for your morning date at your place when you get some unexpected company.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, nanami gets a little jealous but don't worry bc I can't stand miscommunication tropes, explicit smut towards the end (mdni)

˚₊✩‧₊word count: 8.6k SORRY LOL

˚₊✩‧₊author’s note: lemme start by saying im sorry for taking so long to post the next part but i have been going through it :D i am so grateful for all the positive feedback and messages i've gotten in my absence, i've missed my fellow nanami freaks, so this one is for all yall<3 also i posted this on A03 yesterday...i just feel like its faster posting it there bc im lazy. thank you to everyone for reading!

taglist at the end and feel free to let me know if you want off or if want to be added!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After about thirty minutes of scrubbing you came to accept that the pink frosting stain wasn’t going to come out of your shirt. You sighed and put down the wet fabric. Another shirt lost to your shenanigans with Nanami. You laughed to yourself as the realization hit you. You’d lost three shirts in the last four days…you should probably plan to go shopping soon. You grimaced, maybe you should have saved that extra money you’d sent your mother earlier in the week. 

You went around your apartment cleaning here and there, you had found it in better shape than you remembered, but compared to his apartment you felt that yours was definitely lacking in cohesive design. Your eclectic furniture was a little bit of every style, the art on your walls didn’t really follow a theme, you just framed things you liked. You tidied up more than you think you ever had and smiled as you looked around. It may not have been much, but it was home. You felt safe here. 

The building as whole was another issue. You’d frowned when you had seen the elevator was still out of order. Nanami would have to take the seven flights of stairs just like you had. You looked down at your phone, maybe you could reschedule? Meet somewhere else to have breakfast? No, he had been looking forward to seeing your apartment. It was such a silly thing but you could tell he really wanted to. You wiped down your kitchen countertops one more time before cleaning the small dishes in your sink. 

You were planning on going to bed a bit earlier than usual. You were going to prep breakfast to make some pastries for him in the morning. It had been a while since you’d baked. You looked around, satisfied at your cleaning streak. You decided to shower before continuing, maybe you’d be able to catch anything you had missed afterwards.

You stepped out of the shower and walked up to the sink. What a crazy few days you’d had. You hadn’t really had the chance to be alone and process everything. You stared at your reflection as you wiped the mirror. You’d never really thought of yourself as someone worthy of being desired. An odd thing to admit, but you had also never really had the luxury of having the sort of life where that would matter. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery was a fast paced one and every day could be your last, so you often found yourself discouraged from participating in things people your age did. Dating, partying, traveling…it's not like you could afford it either. The only reason you’d really ever gone out was because of Akari. She would invite you to go out to places where she could relive her delinquent youth. She was also the reason you had gone on any dates in the first place. That reminded you, you needed to text her and see when she was free to hangout. You had a lot to catch her up on. 

You walked out to your living room and sat on the couch, picking up your phone. It suddenly dawned on you that you had never gotten Nanami’s number. You seemed to remember Akari saying she gave him yours. You opened your messages and scrolled to confirm. 

Something made a noise in your kitchen. 

Your blood ran cold. Was it an intruder? A curse? Had something broken in? You slowly reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. You sat up and looked towards the noise, but didn’t see anything. A cup holding your washed silverware had been knocked over. Okay…maybe it had just come unbalanced. You got up holding the bat up and slowly approached the kitchen. You cautiously made your way around the counter looking down and jumped. 

It was your neighbor's cat. 

You sighed in relief and lowered your bat. “Messi, what are you doing here?” You picked up the orange cat who meowed in return. “How have you been? It’s been a while.” He meowed again. “Really?” Meow. “I’ve been good. I met someone.” Meow. “Well he was someone I already knew.” You walked out of your apartment, cat in tow, and made your way next door. Your window had a tear in the screen and Messi had made a habit of going through it and somehow prying open your window (which didn’t lock) and wandering into your place. You didn’t mind, you had actually set up a little water bowl for him in your apartment. 

You knocked on the door. “Hi, it’s Y/N. I'm returning Messi, I haven’t been home for a couple of days, so I don’t know how long he’s been in there.” 

You heard some shuffling and suddenly an older lady opened the door. You had never seen her before. She looked at you and then at the cat. “Keep the damn thing.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice from behind the lady, your neighbor. She made her way to the door and you saw she was crying. She took the cat in her arms and held him close, starting to cry again. “Thank you.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Osuke had his second trial today and was convicted,” she said through tears. Osuke was her husband.

“That stupid lawyer, I should curse his entire family,” the old lady muttered. You had a feeling she was Osuke’s mother. 

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You had known about the trial, it had been ongoing for a couple of months now. He had been arrested after being framed for a robbery. The story you had been told was that his boss had been the one to frame him. He was a bottom tier worker, and the perfect scapegoat for the crime. 

“No, thank you though,” the woman said. 

“You can take the damn cat. She’s moving out of here. After the lawyer’s fees and the loss of his income she’s moving in with me, I don’t want to take care of that thing,” the older lady said.

“I’ll take care of it, please,” the woman cried. 

The lady grumbled something else and went back inside. “Thank you for bringing him back.” She wiped her tears and offered you a hug. “We’ll be out by tomorrow, I can't afford the rent. I’m already behind on the last two months.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I hope everything works out. You have my number, call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” You smiled at her and she nodded and closed the door. 

You stood alone in the hallway. Everything was so silent. You heard the women arguing again and you sighed. You went back into your apartment, sitting on your couch again. You hoped everything would work out for them. The couple next door had been so nice. Osuke and Makiko and their cat Messi, they’d lived here longer than you had. You sighed and rubbed your temples. There really wasn’t much you could do for them.  

You reached for your phone again and went to text Akari. 

-sorry i meant to text you earlier, and then i got distracted again. messi was in my apartment and scared me to death. -when are they going to fix that damn window for you? -i don’t mind, i love that cat.  -but if he can get in so can other things, my skin is crawling just thinking about it  -someone is on the road to getting uninvited from my place.  -no way, you owe me from all the times I’ve let you crash at my place -damn…speaking of, when is your next free day? we need to hang out.  -i can do the day after tomorrow, i have a half day, does that work? -perfect, i’m also just coming in in the morning -you can tell me all about your adventures with the old man. have you said yes to being his girlfriend yet? -he hasn’t asked me yet -boooo

You started typing when you received a notification from an unknown number. 

-Did you make it home okay?- It read. You smiled.  -is this who I think it is? -Y/n it’s me, it’s Nanami Kento.  -then it is who I thought. I did make it home safe, I found my neighbor's cat in my apartment so I’m glad I came to check, they’re moving out tomorrow morning. -So you’re free now? -…yes ? -That’s good, get some rest. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow.

Hmm you thought he was going to ask something else. You looked at the clock. It was 7:53, earlier than you thought. I should probably get started, you thought to yourself. You pulled yourself off of the couch and went into your kitchen. You would make your dough tonight and let it proof overnight. 

Overnight proofing is the best way to make bread. 

You were shot back into a memory. 

The best things in life are worth waiting for you know. And what’s better than fresh bread? Nothing! Ask anyone that comes in tomorrow, I dare you.  

You smiled fondly as you rolled the dough into a little acorn shape before rounding it out and setting it in a glass bowl. 

As you finished up you checked the time. You had gotten done pretty quickly. You just needed the topping for the melon bread, which you could make as the oven heated up in the morning. You checked your pantry one last time for brown sugar and you realized you didn’t have any. You frowned. You’d run out for some in the morning. If you didn’t go to bed soon you weren't going to want to get up in the morning.

You sat for a moment and noticed the silence again. It’s not like it wasn’t ever quiet around here, but maybe after the events of the last four days something about being alone bothered you. It surely hadn’t before.

You moved into your bedroom and lay on the bed. You usually felt stuffy in here, that’s why you preferred to lay out on the couch, at least it seemed more of an open space compared to your bedroom. But now it felt nice. You felt safe. 

You stared at your ceiling. “Maybe I should call him,” you said out loud to yourself. You closed your eyes and imagined his smile. The way his perfect teeth shone, the way his nose crinkled a bit when the corners of his mouth lifted, his lips on yours. You swallowed and opened your eyes. If you let your mind wander any longer you’d be in trouble. You groaned in frustration. You missed him, how pathetic. You had always been one to make fun of how quickly people in your field tended to get together, but here you were. 

You heard your neighbor and her mother in law faintly arguing through the walls. You frowned trying to think if there was really nothing you could do. 

You had too much “compassion”, you had been told by one of the old professors at Jujutsu Tech. There’s no way to save everyone and to try is to doom yourself. You scowled as you remembered what he had said to you. The arguing died down and you hoped to yourself they worked it out. At least they had each other going through this. Things were tense now but hopefully they’d adjust. You made a note to check in on them tomorrow. You went to set your alarm when you remembered Shoko had wanted you to stop by her office early in the morning. You groaned and set your alarm for earlier than you had intended. Nanami said he’d be by around 7, it would have to be a quick breakfast as you wanted to get to the school by 8, you hoped he didn’t mind. You finally drifted to sleep. 

You groaned as your alarm woke you up, but you quickly sat up and went to wash your face. You needed to split the dough, and lay the cookie topping over it and let it proof for another 30 minutes at least. You could run out to your corner store while they sat and you preheated the oven. 

As you opened the door to exit, you almost tripped on a pile of items placed in front of your place. Cat toys, a litter box, cans of cat food, a small bed, and a note. 

Messi got out again last night and I’m afraid we just don’t have time to look for him. I think he’s better off with you anyway. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If it’s too much I've contacted a shelter that would take him. Here is the number. 

You frowned a bit. You loved Messi but you didn’t want a cat. You dragged the items into your apartment and quickly went out the door. You’d deal with this later, you were already running behind.

As you stepped back into the hall, winded and trying to catch your breath after returning and climbing the seven floors, you looked up to see a man in a suit knocking on your neighbors door. This wasn’t your man in a suit, quite the opposite. 

You approached him cautiously. He had jet black hair, his suit was dark, and he reeked of alcohol. 

“Please, just let me apologize- I did all I could. I won’t charge ya any money, just please, I’m sorry.” He stumbled as he continued to knock. You were going to have to get past him to get to your door. There was no avoiding him. 

“Excuse me,” you said, announcing yourself behind him. The man turned to look at you. His eyes were tired and sleepy, he had deep bags under his eyes and his sharp nose was red. He was definitely drunk. “If you’re looking for the residents, they’ve moved out.” 

“What?” 

“They’ve moved out, what did you need to tell them?” you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry?” 

“I need to apologize to them. Osuke was jailed. It’s not fair. The whole system is corrupt. I should-” 

“Were you their lawyer?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he turned back and started pounding on the door again. “Please let me speak to you!” 

“Tell him to stop that before I call the police!” an old man from down the hall had stuck his head out of his door to yell. 

“Sir, no one is in there. You have to go, it’s too early to be causing such a ruckus,” you said. 

“I need to apologize,” he whined. You noticed a buzzing coming from his pocket, his phone was ringing. 

“Do you need to get that?” you asked. 

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to you before turning back to the door. The caller ID said Shimizu. You grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him away from the door as you answered with your other hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Yes, hello… is this Higuruma’s cellphone? Who’s speaking?” A woman spoke on the other end. 

“Ah, he just handed me his phone. He’s very drunk and knocking at someone- I think maybe one of his clients' doors.” 

You heard her curse, “Would you be able to tell me where he is? I apologize for the disturbance, I’ll come by to get him as soon as I know where to go.” 

“Ah, yes-” he pulled himself from your grip and started going towards the door again. “Sir-” 

“There is no justice!” he cried out. 

You stared at him a bit shocked, what was he on about? You told the woman your address. 

“I can be there in around 25 minutes. Would there be any way you could keep him put? I apologize again for the inconvenience.” 

“I’ll try my best…” you looked at the man as he collapsed onto his knees, staring forward at the door. You walked over to him and handed him his phone. “Shimizu is on her way to get you,” you said. He just stared. You looked at your apartment and sighed. “Would you like to wait for her inside?” You pulled the man up to his feet and unlocked your apartment. You held the door open as he stumbled inside. You reached inside and grabbed a couple of cans of cat food to hold your door open. The last thing you wanted was for Nanami to get the wrong idea.

Once inside you rushed over to your kitchen to check on the bread. The man walked around not looking at anything in particular, but just moping. “Have a seat,” you motioned to the small table and chairs. He sat down and you turned back to your baking, unpacking the sugar you had just bought. You quickly grabbed a plate and spread the sugar, then you rolled the diamond patterned tops in the sugar. You placed the six little buns you had made back on the baking sheet. The oven still had a couple of minutes before it was ready. 

You turned back to the man and were shocked to find him staring at you. “You just let a strange drunk man into your apartment, while alone?” 

“I left the door open…” you muttered. “Besides, I think I could take you in a fight. I’ve dealt with worse.” He gave you a questioning look. “Would you like some water? Some tea? Coffee?”

“Water.” You poured him a glass and walked it over to him. He began rubbing his temples with his hand. He seemed to be sobering up quickly. You grabbed a couple of crackers from your shelf and handed them to him too. 

“Eat something, get a grip before your friend comes to get you.” 

You heard the oven ding and you walked over to put the pasties in the oven. You set a timer for twenty minutes. Looking at the clock you had about 30 until Nanami showed up, probably less since he seemed to be pretty punctual. You turned back to the man and saw he had chugged the water and was gingerly taking a bite out of the crackers. You started cleaning up the kitchen, putting the bowls in the sink and clearing off your small drying rack. 

“Who is coming to get me?” he asked.

“Ah, your friend, I think her name was Shimizu,” you answered. He muttered something under his breath. “More water?” you asked. 

He nodded. You went over with a pitcher and filled his cup, this time sitting down across from him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“So…there’s no justice in the world, huh?” You asked. He frowned. “I don’t think that’s something I’d want to hear from my lawyer,” you eyed him curiously. 

“I apologize for my outburst.” 

“No, no I understand. From what I know Osuke was innocent. It must be frustrating to lose a case, especially when what happened was so unfair.” You thought back to the old woman grumbling about the lawyer. “That old lady was very angry, I can’t imagine that’s easy on you.” 

His hand gripped the cup tightly. “People have no sense of understanding right or wrong. Everything is so black and white to them. But there are so many complications before you can see one or the other clearly.” He stared at the cup. “Most only see the bad, the ugly, that’s the easiest thing to pick out, the easiest to understand. I think most people assume that others are inherently bad, so expecting bad things to come from them is second nature.” You stayed silent as he contemplated his words. “It doesn’t help when your client looks like a bad guy, it’s an uphill battle, but I try I really do.”

He sighed, taking a drink of water before continuing. “ If I lose a case, it's easy to blame me. I'm much more tangible than blaming some higher power for not being in your favor. No one wants to believe that I do this out of a want to help others, they see me as wanting money, as taking advantage of those in dire situations. They only ever see me as greedy when I lose. Another bad guy. I want to help, but when it comes down to it, who am I to a jury, to a judge? I’m another bad person, defending a bad person who did a bad deed. They think if they were truly innocent I wouldn’t have to work as hard, I wouldn’t have to find such cunning ways to prove their innocence, but I try. Not out of trickery or malice, but because I want to believe that not everyone is bad. But again and again people only see me as a bad guy defending bad people, and I'm afraid I'm losing sight of what this all used to mean to me.”   

You looked at the cup he was holding. “I see…” you thought about everything he had just said. You thought a part of him was just feeling sorry for himself, but other points he made were valid. There was a time when you thought everyone in the world might have been bad too. “When I was sixteen…I left my home because of an incident,” you started. “I was alone and scared and I thought that it had happened to me because I was bad.” You frowned slightly as you recalled the events. “And because I thought I was bad, I justified a lot of the things I did. I snuck onto buses and trains to get to Tokyo, away from where I was because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be there, I didn’t deserve to be close to my family. And I stole…a lot…not big things, not precious things, food mostly. I was hungry and had no place to stay and I saw others do it…and so I became ‘bad’. I became what I thought I was, what I believed the world wanted me to be.” You looked up at him, he was staring at you trying to figure out where you were going with this. “But then I met someone, someone who was good, someone who only ever saw the good in people no matter what and that…changed me.” 

“Who did you meet?” he asked. 

“I went to a bakery,” you smiled fondly and looked down at your hands on the table. “I had known about it since I arrived in Tokyo, the line was always out of the door by 7 am, but I had never had the chance to go in. I mean, I never even had the money for it and the owner, she was this sweet old lady and even though I was already stealing food from other places, I felt like if I stole from her I would be too far gone. 

But as it goes, the more I stole, the more I felt entitled to, and after a month of fighting it, I finally gave in and made a plan.” You shifted in your seat, you had never told anyone this story. “I made a plan, and woke up early, to be one of the first in line. I was sixth or seventh outside the door, and when I finally got to go in I felt like crying, it smelled so good and it was so warm. She greeted everyone with such kindness and it was just her that day. I had seen a granddaughter with her before, but this morning it was just the lady. 

“I pretended to look around, considering what to buy. I let people go in and out before I finally decided on a single piece of Melon bread, delicately wrapped in plastic. It was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever seen. I grabbed the piece and tucked it under my arm and started heading towards the door. I turned to check if anyone had seen me and I saw her staring at me.” You laughed and shook your head. “She was just staring at me and her eyes went to the piece of bread I had tucked under my arm and you know what she did?” You looked up at him. “She looked back into my eyes, smiling the whole time, and said to come back soon. I ran out of there, terrified for my life. I thought she was going to call the cops, but there was something about her smile that just seemed so genuine. 

I think I got about ten steps down the road before I stopped. The guilt was too much, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve to have something so nice. I was bad, and I had done a bad thing.” You scrunched your nose. “I went back immediately. I pushed past the people in line and went right up to her and I handed her the bread back. She looked at me confused and just shook her head. ‘You can have it, it’s your first time here right? Take a seat, let me know what you think of it.’” You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I sat down and just cried while I ate it. I bawled, like people stared at me out of concern.” The lawyer stared at you. “When I finished she came up to me and asked how it was. I started apologizing profusely and she just handed me another one, and asked if I’d like to learn how to make my own,” you shook your head incredulously. 

“She offered me a job and a place to stay. I still don’t understand how she was able to see right through me.” You heard the timer go off and you shot up to get the bread out of the oven. You smiled as you saw how perfectly the six little buns had crisped up. You transferred them over to a plate and grabbed one for the lawyer. You placed it in front of him. “There are bad people out there, but there are also good people. There has to be a natural balance otherwise everything would fall apart, don’t you think?” You looked at him as he stared at the pastry before him. “I can see that you really care about your clients. Even if this was a bit inappropriate to do, drunkenly asking to speak to them and all, but the right sentiment is there.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “The world needs more people that are willing to look past everything and find the good. I hope you can keep doing that.” 

You heard laughter from the hallway and looked over the lawyer’s shoulder at the open door to see Nanami and a sharply dressed woman stepping out of the stairway. The woman suddenly looked at you and then at the lawyer. “Higuruma!” She quickened her step towards your place. Nanami followed behind her. “Pardon my intrusion,” she said as she entered. She stomped up to the man checking on him before turning to you. She bowed slightly. “I apologize for his behavior. This is completely out of character for him, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s okay, he explained some of what’s been going on. Do you work with him?” 

“Yes, my name is Shimizu, I’m a colleague of his, I’m also a lawyer.” 

“I’m Y/N, sorry we have to meet like this.” You turned your attention to Nanami who was staring at the man. “Sorry our breakfast plans got thrown around a little.” 

Shimizu turned towards Nanami and then back to you. “Ah, I see...” She smiled at you. “I’ll take over now, thank you again for your help. Here’s my business card, let me know if there’s ever anything you need.” You took her card and smiled. Fancy, you thought to yourself.

“Wait,” Higuruma said. “Have my card too,” he felt around his pockets for them but couldn’t find anything. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your wallet,” Shimuzu said, annoyed. She pulled out another card and handed it to you. “Here’s his card as well.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Thank you for listening to me…” Higuruma looked like he was trying to remember your name.

“Y/N,” you repeated. 

He smiled at you. “Wait!” he said again as Shimuzu started pushing him out. “My melon bread…” he muttered, turning back and grabbing it off the plate. Shimuzu sighed and continued to push him out. 

You watched the two bicker as they went down the hall and into the staircase. You became aware of Nanami’s eyes on you. You reached down to move the cat food out of the door frame and let the door shut. “If I ever got called to fetch you out of some stranger’s apartment after you had a drunken night out, I don’t think I’d be as calm as she was,” you said. You turned back to him after he hadn’t said anything. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea. I helped him out and we just talked.” You frowned. “I feel like saying that makes me seem more guilty, but I don’t even know why I’m defending myself here.” You turned to him and stared for a bit. “Are you mad at me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “No?” 

“Oh.” You turned back towards the door. “You were just being so quiet…I mean I heard you guys laughing…the lawyer lady, Shimizu. She was really pretty. She looked so professional..” You smiled half heartedly. “You looked good together.” You muttered. You frowned as you realized how ridiculous you sounded. “Anyway…” you turned towards the kitchen and started walking to the counter. “I made some pastries this morning. It’s not much, but we’ll also have to be quick because I forgot I promised Shoko I’d meet her early. So I only have time to change and then we probably need to head out. Sorry for rushing things.” you frowned again. “I should have told you to stop by earlier, but I got a little distracted.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“M-me?” You felt your face grow red. “No-no I’m not- why would you- why would you think that?” you laughed awkwardly. “I was just saying she’s super pretty and I’d just never heard someone laugh with you like that before I mean other than me- but I mean I guess I don’t really know you-I mean I know you but not like I know you now- and she’s-I mean she’s super pretty you have to admit-“ 

“I wasn’t a fan of the way he asked for your name at the end of your conversation,” he said looking down at his wrist and fiddling with his watch. “I know that look he gave you… I’ve given you that look.” 

You smiled and felt relief. “Seems like we’re on the same boat.” You shook your head and went over to him, looking up with a playful frown. “Was she really that funny?” 

“She was the only one laughing, I don’t think anything I said was particularly interesting.” 

You thought back at the way her eyes had turned from you to him and back to you. Oh I see, she had said. “She was into you,” you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ve done that before, laughed like an idiot at someone who’s not funny because I thought they were hot.” 

“Have you done that with me?” He asked. 

“No, you’re actually funny. It’s never forced with you.” You looked up at him again. “It’s your fault, you’re so handsome. We have to do something about your face.” 

“Well then, what do you suggest we do about yours?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was quite taken with you.” 

You made a face and shook your head. “Men will rant about their problems to you and then think they’re in love just because you listened.” 

“Did he rant about his problems? His alcoholism? His brutishness? What was he thinking coming into someone’s apartment in that state? He’s lucky he didn’t-“ 

“He was having a rough time of it actually. I do feel a bit bad.” You turned back to look at the door and then the cat items. “He was my neighbor’s lawyer. They’re a young couple, the husband was arrested on some unfair charges and he seemed devastated by the outcome.” 

“That’s not very professional.” 

You shrugged. “I think it’s been a long time coming. Hopefully my pep talk keeps him back on track for a while longer, but I have a feeling he’s going to snap one day,” you said darkly. “There was something unhinged in his eyes.” 

Nanami pulled you back and hugged you tightly again as you buried your face back into his chest. He smelled nice. 

“Speaking of my neighbors. Do you like cats?” 

“I don’t dislike them.” You nodded, backing out of his arms. “Why?” 

“They left me in charge of their cat, Messi. Well not left me in charge, it’s more like they gave him to me. They left me all his stuff, he got out of their place yesterday before they left and somehow he always ends up at my place.” 

“How does he get in?” 

“Oh I guess I should show you around my apartment. Though there isn’t much to look at.” You ran a hand through your hair as you looked around. You pointed at where he was standing, next to the table. “Dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom door, bedroom door, ta da!” You smiled cheekily as you pointed back where you started. “Bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever had a house tour, huh.” He looked around slowly, taking in the frames on the wall, the knick knacks on your shelves and the books piled all over the place, stacked not so neatly. “It’s- it’s really not much but it’s home,” you said feeling a little insecure again. Maybe you should have cleaned more. 

“It’s lovely,” he said. “It feels very much like you.” 

“Thanks…” you said. Your eyes went to the clock in your kitchen and you perked up. “Oh wow, is that the time…” 

“May I see your bedroom?” He asked. You felt your face go red again. 

“Oh, sure,” you started walking towards it. “I need to change anyway, hope you don’t mind.” 

“Never.” You felt the blush grow and your stomach get tingly. 

You opened the door and gestured briefly. “This is it, again it's not much... I think the bed is too big for this space, but it’s comfortable.” you went around to your closet pulling out a pair of black slacks and a white button down. You laughed to yourself. “That pink frosting was not coming off of my shirt. That’s two shirts you owe me, Kento.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he said as he looked around the room. “What about this weekend? Are you free? I could take you shopping.” 

You laughed again, “You’re like the main lead in a drama series. You’re too much, you know that?” 

“Sorry?” He offered. 

You smiled at him.“Thank you, but I’ll take a rain check on the shopping. I can get my own stuff. I’m hanging out with Akari on my half day, but Sunday I’ll be free,” you said as you buttoned your pants. “That is if you want to meet up on Sunday… if you’ve available.” 

You turned to him and saw him blush this time. “Sunday…works.” You smiled victoriously as you walked over to him in just your bra. He stared at your face and you nodded briefly as if to give him permission to look. His eyes trailed down. “It’s a shame we have to hurry to campus. Are you sure Shoko can’t wait.” 

“She’s doing me a favor by offering to teach me, I can’t do that to her,” you said. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you forward. You looked up expectantly and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled. 

You finished getting dressed and you felt his eyes never leave you as you moved around. He walked behind you out of the room and into the kitchen where you proudly showed him the bread you had made. 

“This is a very secret recipe, I doubt you’ll ever have one as good as this.” He looked down at the bread and smiled fondly. He picked up one of the little buns and slowly bit into it. You watched his face carefully for a reaction. You saw his eyes water slightly as he savored the treat. 

He smiled and nodded. “Good.” 

You were a bit confused. “Yeah…you okay?” He seemed to be lost in thought. “Kento?” 

He smiled again and blinked a few times. “Yes, sorry, it brought up some memories. This is very good, Y/N.” 

You smiled, deciding to not push it. “I worked at a bakery for a short time.” You looked at the buns. “They're good but you should have tried the ones where I learned… I guess people are masters for a reason.” He nodded and continued to eat. 

“Did you want coffee or-” Suddenly your phone rang. You pulled it out of your pocket and read the name, Shoko. 

“Hello?” you answered. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’ve been called out to do something so I won't be at the school this morning. Is there any way you could come in during your lunch?” 

“I think that should work,” you said. Nanami looked at you curiously. 

“Great, see you then.” 

“Ooo~ is that Y/N?’ you heard Gojo’s voice in the background before she hung up. 

You looked at your phone and then back up at Nanami. “So it looks like we have time after all, Shoko just rescheduled.” You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Sorry for rushing you before. Did you want some coffee or anything? I need a little pick me up.” 

He shook his head, “Sit down, you’ve had a long morning. Do you mind if I make us some coffee?” 

“I can make it for you, it's no problem-”

“I insist. It’s the least I can do,” he said with a smile. You smiled back and nodded. 

“Fine, let me atleast get the ingredients out for you.” 

“I’m sure I can find what I need,” he said, gesturing for you to go sit at the table.

You obliged and sat down with a happy sigh. You watched as he moved around the kitchen, looking for ingredients. The coffee, the sugar, etc. You smiled as he grumbled to himself as he searched for items and he would occasionally look over at you for some guidance. You pointed at your cup drawer and he looked over at you as he pulled out two mugs. He held one in his hand and read the text. 

He frowned. “I used to work at this company,” he said. 

“Ah, I got it as a freebie after signing up for their newsletter or something like that, I don't remember now.” You laughed, “I wonder if you were at that event. It must have been around the time you worked there. Before I had this apartment I used to rent one close to their headquarters, so I would walk by almost daily. We were so close and had no idea.” 

Nanami smiled, bringing over two cups of coffee and the tray of bread. “I don’t think you would have liked me then.” 

“What do you mean?” You took the warm cup from him. 

He sighed as he sat, “I feel as if I was a soulless shell of a man focused on money”

“Was?” you teased. 

He gave you a look, “Am I still?” You blew on your cup and smiled slyly. He smiled, “I guess I am still focused on money, but soulless?”

“Definitely not, I can tell by the way you made this coffee,” you said, taking a sip. He shook his head and looked down at his cup. He had taken the one with his old company logo. 

“Would you have liked me?” He mumbled. 

“Probably not, if I’m honest,” you said bluntly. You smiled, “I hate stiffs in suits and I don’t have much money so I doubt you’d have given me the time of day anyway.” 

“Stiffs in suits? Isn’t that what I am now?” 

“At least you’re helping people, now. That company always had a fishy vibe, there was always a tan blonde man in sunglasses who would try to pick me up with bad English phrases.” You scrunched your face. “Sound like someone you know?” 

He laughed. “Unfortunately I know who you’re referring to.”

The two of you finished up your breakfast and Nanami offered to do the dishes while you tidied up. You wiped down your counters as he rinsed the cups. You moved on to the table. 

Laying on the table were the two business cards the lawyer had handed you. You examined the sturdy ivory rectangle and the elegant gold lettering of the man’s business card. Hiromi Higuruma, it sounded like a name out of a tv show. You looked up and saw Nanami staring at the card in your hand with disdain. You smiled, laughing a bit at his expression. 

“Here,” you reached out and handed him the card. “Hold on to this for me, you never know when I might need a lawyer.” 

He begrudgingly took the card and scanned the writing, the scowl still on his face. “I’ll keep you out of trouble.” He tucked the card into his pocket. 

“Did he really bother you that much?” 

“Please, enough about him,” he said with a sigh.

“I kind of like that you’re jealous,” you teased. “Anyway, what are you so worried about?” You reached out and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You felt his cheek grow warm as a blush came over his face.

Nanami looked down at his watch, he seemed to be calculating something in his head. “We have about thirty minutes until we have to leave right?”

“Yeah, why?” 

He suddenly moved closer to you, putting his hand on either side of the table around your waist. “Should we make use of our morning?”He gave you a cocky smirk as he gently moved one of his hands under your chin, tilting your face upwards.

You felt your face burning now. “What can we even do in only half an hour” 

He tilted his head as he thought. “Well we really only have twenty minutes,  I would allow us another ten to compose ourselves.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” you asked, laughing. 

He shrugged as he brought his face closer to yours. “We can make it work.” He closed the distance between you, delicately placing his lips on yours. He was so warm, so soft. You pulled him closer, placing your hand on the back of his head and lacing your fingers within his silky blonde locks. His lips moved softly against yours, his hand gently placed on your back as he settled himself between your legs. You pulled back for a second and looked up at him. His lips were glistening with your mixed saliva and face was flush. You smiled. 

“Seeing as I haven’t really had the time to do laundry, and the fact that I’m down a couple of shirts, and that we have a record of being…messy. I propose we move this to my bedroom.” 

He smiled and nodded. He placed another soft kiss on your lips before backing up to let you move forward away from the table. 

“I’ll try to not let it become a habit.” 

“What?”

“Ruining your shirts.” 

“To be fair you only ruined two, the other one was that monster.” You shrugged, “Some things are just inevitable.” You turned towards him once you were in your room and started unbuttoning your shirt. “Should we set a timer?” you joked. 

Nanami set his blazer aside and loosened his tie. “We can be quick about it. We made do in that bathroom.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, “Oh my god,” you buried your face in your hands and sat on the bed. You heard him chuckle and you looked up. He placed a hand down onto your cheek and you smiled at him. He slowly lowered his face down towards you and kissed your forehead. He pushed you onto your back as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. You shifted your weight as you reached down to pull your pants down. You slipped them off of your legs and suddenly felt him grab your right ankle. He smiled coyly as he placed it up onto his shoulders, you felt your face go red as you looked at him. He held your leg firmly as he lazily unbuttoned his pants and shuffled them down to expose himself. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he moved forward and ran his cock over your underwear. He moved forward, placing his knees on the bed as he brought your legs up onto his thighs. He picked up your left leg and pressed it against his side as he moved forward to kiss you. You groaned as you felt your right thigh stretch against his chest. You moved one of your hands onto his shoulder and the other laced into his hair bringing him closer. Your tongues danced as you desperately kissed him. He continued to buck his hips, running his cock over your now soaked panties. He grunted at the friction and quickly moved back suddenly. You whimpered again as your leg moved back up with him. He let go of your left leg and moved it over opening your legs wide before him. He looked up at you, his pupils wide and his mouth wet with your spit. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed down your body. “Y/N…I don’t know how to explain what you do to me…” He licked his lips as he thrust his hips forward against your clothed cunt. “I apologize in advance if I’m being too rough.” He looked back up at you. “Please let me know if I’m too rough..” He moved a hand down and pushed aside the wet fabric easily. 

He pressed his tip lightly against your opening. You moved a hand forward and pressed it against his abdomen stopping him momentarily. “Kento…” 

His head snapped up to meet your eyes. “Yes?”

There was a desperation in his gaze that made you feel a warmth in your chest. “It’s okay.” You moved your hand back and lifted your arms over your head. “Be rough with me, please…” you moaned and arched your back as you felt him dip a little deeper inside you. 

Nanami quickly grabbed your other leg and pressed it back against you as he moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. You let out a yelp, which was muffled by him devouring your lips. He pushed his hips roughly against you, desperately, quickly, as he held your legs further back. You were folded over yourself and you felt the head of his cock bully the deepest parts of you. You gasped everytime he pushed into you, becoming a mumbling mess under his touch. He slipped an arm behind you and brought you closer to him and you gasped at the change in position. He had you trapped in a mating press and all you could do was mutter incoherently. “Kento!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure. He moved his mouth from your lips and trailed sloppy kisses down to your jaw and into your neck. You felt him bite your skin gently before latching onto the side of your neck. He was going to leave a mark, you were sure. You moved your arms forward and hugged his large torso towering over you. He wasn’t slowing down and you were reaching your limit. You dug your nails into his back and you heard him hiss as he released your neck. He smiled snarkily before moving to the other side of your neck and biting down on it. You dragged your nails along his back again and he bit down harder. You cried out as he desperately moved his hips with more force, his knees slipping and forcing him deeper as he temporarily let his weight drop on you for an instant. You moaned loudly and clenched your entire body as you came. He grunted into your ear as he thrust his hips one more time before releasing with a roar. 

You were both breathing heavily as he stayed inside of you for a while longer, twitching against your contracting walls. He kissed your face gently as he tried to catch his breath and you smiled, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. After some time he finally moved back, releasing your legs which had been trapped between the two of you. He took a moment to massage your thighs in his hands. You hummed in appreciation. 

You felt him move back and pull out of you. You winced as you felt warm liquid ooze out of you. You pointed to your bedside table and he quickly fetched a handkerchief to clean you up. 

“I might have gotten carried away again.” 

You laughed and sat up sorely. “It's only 8 am.” You mumbled. He smiled at you and you saw his eyes trail to your neck. You put a hand over the spots he had leeched on to. He smiled satisfied as he made his way off the bed. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower…would you like to join me?” You nodded and scooted off of the bed. You looked at him as he turned his back towards you and winced. He turned to look. “What? Is something wrong?” 

“Your back,” you said with a frown. “I didn’t realize how hard I was scratching.” 

He peeked over his shoulder at the sharp red lines. “Nothing you can’t fix,” he said. He went over to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

After your quick shower together you went back into your bedroom to get dressed. You looked in the mirror at your body. He had left a mark at the base of your neck, just low enough to be covered by the collar of your shirt. You looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw he was staring with a smile on his face. “I might have been caught up in the moment, but I made sure I was careful.” 

You smiled back and looked at the mark again. You looked back up at him. “This…this doesn’t have anything to do with you being jealous does it?” 

He blinked and you saw his eyebrows furrow slightly. “No,” he huffed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve.. “Why would you- No, I’m not-”

You laughed. “Sorry, I had to tease. I love when you get flustered.”

He sighed and came up behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Do you have the lady lawyer’s card? What was her name? Shimizu? I think I should hold on to her card as well.” 

You frowned and leaned your head into his. “I knew it. You’re leaving me for her.” 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you bringing you closer to him. He buried his face into your neck and took a deep breath. He pressed a kiss into your shoulder before moving up to kiss your cheek. “We should get going.” 

You turned to look at him. “Okay.” He took your hands and lifted them to his lips to give them a gentle kiss. 

“Make sure Shoko doesn’t go too far, she has a habit of getting carried away…”

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pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊thank you for reading my way too overly complicated fic, i have so much planned and its all really self indulgent but I'm glad I can share it with other nanami lovers. i'll try to be better about posting the next part without a three month ghosting period, but in my defense the end of 2024 was out to get me....anyway much love to you all and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't -Nana

˚₊✩‧₊ taglist: @wrldtups @rjreins @phattyboo90 @tnyblacklesbo @silkija @justwantedachange @inthedarkshadows000 @nniiyyaa @starkmila09 @sikuthealien @wifenanami @bloombb @kentos-glasses @inciteterr0r @naturalismi @kimkimoruo @thatvintagefanboy @lavenderdaydream97

[simpforwebtoonmen]

★lookism characters with an s/o with a similar fighting style as Bayonetta pt.2

feat. Johan Seong, Zack Lee, Mira Kim

So the first one did pretty good so im gonna do a second one :) (edit: it's been ages since i've posted (i fell out of my hyper fixation on lookism BUT NOW ITS BACK YIPPIE) and college is sort of kicking me in the ass rn) not proofread

sorry zack fans but his part is really short...

★Johan Seong

Everyone knows of his "copy and paste" abilities, right? Even with little knowledge of a fighting technique, he's almost always been able to pull it off without any difficulty.

So why is it that he can't copy your technique?

He groaned, his hands on his knees as he panted, letting beads of sweat drip from his forehead and his shirt just slightly damp from the sweating. He hasn't been able to catch up with you at all during this training session. The way you'd fly through the air with no trouble, as if there wasn't such a thing as wind resistance. You were so quick with your movement, making it hard for him to even catch up with you. And even if he could predict your dodging technique, he couldn't predict where you'd dodge or if you'd try and land a blow onto him. You were so predictable yet so unpredictable as you'd never do the same thing twice, there was always something new with you.

"Goddammit," he muttered to himself, growing frustrated with his own slow movement, or rather what's slow compared to you. Usually he's quickly against most opponents, but of course you aren't one of those opponents. You giggle, "uh oh, looks like someone's struggling. Wanna call quits? No shame in doing so, Baby," your words were not comforting in anyway, your teasing tone giving away your true intentions. And who was Johan to not give into your obvious trap.

He wiped the sweat off of his face, and with a deep breath in he straightened himself up. Getting into a fighting position, one you havent seen before, he raises a hand, beckoning you to come forward with his pointer and middle finger, "you fuckin' wish."

With a laugh, you got into position as well, "finally gonna take me seriously?" you teased, your lips curled into a beautiful grin.

And with that, you finally make the first move, jumping up and forward toward your boyfriend. Your left leg winding back just as quickly as it landed a kick on your boyfriend's face.

-

"aww, you poor thing! I'm so sorry! lemme kiss it better," you apologized, taking Johan's face into your hands, careful to not grab too hard and to avoid bruises and bumps. Softly and gently, you peppered his face with kisses. And despite his frustration towards you, he let you do as you pleased (as if he didn't enjoy your coddling and kisses. The pink on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know).

★Zack Lee

"Do I look like I need help?"

"yes, very much so."

He sighs, "alright fine, but don't you dare get hurt!"

You laugh, "yeah, that's funny." that earned a confused look from zack and an even funnier look when you stood on your hands kicked your heel into a workers nose, causing a messy nose bleed and most likely a broken nose.

"what the fu-" his distraction and attention on you left him open, a rather weak punch to the jaw causing him to get his head back in the game.

Just as he takes down the second to last worker, he's almost taken out by the last one but is saved when a chain wraps around his torso and is yanked against the ground, his head hitting the ground first causing him to pass out.

On the other side of that chain was you. How were you able to slam a man 3x your size to the ground with a chain no less? Zack has dated you for a pretty long time but has known you as a friend for longer, and he's had no idea how or when you've acquired such skills. but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thinking about marriage right now.

"hello? Zack? Earth to Zack!...what the hell is wrong with this dude-"

"marriage..."

"okay, what the flip man."

★Mira Kim

it was supposed to be a peaceful and fun date. And it was for a while. You and your girlfriend, Mira, first got coffee at your favorite cafe, then went shopping at the local mall, and now as your leaving the mall's arcade, hand in hand with Mira, a group of mall stop you from exiting.

"what do we have here?" the one in front, who also happened to be the tallest and most menacing, mocked the two of you. Mira, unafraid and not one to give into bullying or intimidation, replied, "we're on a date, can't you see that?" she raised hers and your connected hands, showing them evidence.

The tall one laughs, his three lackeys laughing along with him, "oh sweetie, I know you can do a lot better than," he looked you up and down, "that." He takes a step closer to Mira, though she stands her ground, refusing to move or let go of your hand. She already knew you had her back, though she's never seen you in action, the stories told from Zack is enough to tell her that you're more than capable of protecting her and yourself.

The man smiles, his hot breath wafting in Mira's face causing her to scrunch her nose in disgust. "I'm a much better person to be going with, doncha think?" it was much worse for Mira when he talked.

And just when the man was about to move closer, he was rough shoved backwards. "yeah, that's enough," you step in front of Mira, realizing that this man was taking it too far and would go farther if he could.

But apparently, the shove backwards was not enough hint for him. "mother fucker!" he wasted no time throwing a punch at you. You deflect it by simply shoving his arm away followed by a kick underneath his chin. he damn near flies backward and onto his back, your leg straight upward in front of you for a few seconds before you slowly lower it back down.

Mira stood behind you, stunned with her hand covering her mouth. Her shock increases when she realizes that the man was now unconscious as his three goonies try to shake him awake. They try to point fingers at you, blaming him for his 'death', which was ridiculous because it was very clear that he was still breathing by the way his chest rose up and down. Of course their accusations cease when you smile down at them, your smile full of mischief and malice.

They end up dragging away their leader and you and Mira were able enjoy the rest of your date in the mall in peace.

"(name)"

"yes, sweets?"

"that was really hot..."

[bitchface24-7]

Hi, im truly sorry to bother you, I apologise. But I admire your work and I have drank all of it attentively these days to escape from reality, you are truly a gem <33333. Which I don't know how to express my gratitude for it. I have been struggling my entire life to see myself worthy of gaining or receiving love, I have been insecure about my body. And after I read your fic plus size girls x jayvik I swear I cried in admiration. I just want to know if you could write a fanfic with jayvik in love with a curvy tall girl (I'm 1.78cm, I know it's not much, but I have been feeling like absolute fucking garbage lately). I truly hope all your dream come true, your pets live longer and a fucking raise. I love you, mon cherie <333 0w0

HATERS GONNA HATE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: your whole life you've held insecurities, as most women do. You've always been too tall, too “large”, too much. It's weighed you down for too damn long. Your two boys make you realize your beauty, the beauty you've always had. They just took the wool off of your eyes.

warnings: negative self talk, talk of insecurities, childhood bullying, comfort, compliments, fluff, suggestiveness, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. You're so sweet omfg 🥺🥺 I love you too!! I hope this fic comforts any and all who need it. I'm not tall (160cm/5’3) but I am thicker/curvy/fat (whatever term you want to use) like I've cried in changerooms since I hated how something looked on me/how I looked. Its peaks and valleys of self-love; and if my stories make y'all feel beautiful, I've done my part. Its also cathartic to me as well.

You've always been the odd one out. You were taller than all your classmates, you went through puberty first and got breasts before all your peers, you filled out and got curves much sooner than expected. Some may call this a blessing, to you it's a curse.

Now as an adult, you're taller than most men around you. You have a curvy figure yes, but it's not like the surgical, edited versions seen magazines and billboards.

You have nice breasts, but they're not defying gravity levels of perky, you have a smaller waist compared to your hips and shoulders, but you have rolls when you sit and twist your body, you have long legs, but they're not sculpted to perfection. You're just a woman.

A woman who hates what she sees in the mirror sometimes.

You nitpick insecurities others wouldn't even see, especially the people who love and care about you.

Jayce and Viktor think you're a goddess amongst men. That you're perfect, both inside and out. They love everything about you.

They love that you’re close in height to them, so they're not bending over to love on you (especially Viktor with his bad back), Jayce is obsessed with your hips and waist, and Viktor would like to die suffocated between your breasts.

So when they see you at your vanity after waking up and nitpicking yourself, well… that just won't do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are, sitting at your vanity in a large t-shirt and undies, nitpicking away at yourself. Your hair is tossled from sleep, your eyes glittering as you look over yourself. Your hands drag across your face, into your hair, and over your body. Your mind repeating awful statements said about you over the years.

You're so engrossed in being mean to yourself, you don't see Viktor come up behind you and place your morning coffee onto your vanity.

“What’re you doing?” He asks his voice thick due to just waking up. His accent is heavy and heady. You feel your face heat up at his question, not expecting to be caught and the tone of his voice makes your heart flutter.

You freeze slightly, before looking at the handsome man in the mirror, “Just… looking at myself. Nothing to worry about.”

“In appreciation, I hope. Your furrowed brow and pout give you away my love. What’s on your mind?”

A sigh escapes your lungs as you grab your coffee and take a small sip, contemplating your words, “Am I— too much for you two?”

Viktor guffaws at that, his eyes wide when he looks at you, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Y’know… too much. Too tall, too curvy, too chubby. Just— too much.”

“Who on earth put that ridiculous idea into your head?!”

A light incredulous laugh leaves you at the sight of an enraged Viktor. He looks like a mad cat.

“Society, classmates, magazines, and ads. I'm not… the picturesque standard of beauty.”

Viktor's lips narrow at your dejected tone, “You are the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. You're personality is sparkling, and your physical beauty makes me question how a goddess like you could love a man like me.”

You whip around at that last statement, anger clear on your face, “A man like you? What do you mean.”

“A cripple. A poor man from the Undercity. A man who is weak, and ill, and not good enough for you.”

A snarl is what he gets in return for his statement, “Who told you that?! I’ll rip their tongue out for such disgusting comments! You’re wonderful Viktor, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you!”

A knowing look is what you get and your anger immediately quells. Oh that sneaky, smart son of a bitch.

“So— now you know how Jayce and I feel about you. People, society in general are cruel. Our minds our biggest enemy. Jayce will agree with me.”

“Agree with you on what?” Said man asks as he enters the bedroom, a sleepy look on his face as he scratches his toned stomach and sips on his coffee, “What’s taking you two so long? We need to decide on breakfast and I’m getting hungry.”

You look away as Viktor cocks an eyebrow, “Our darling thinks she’s “too much” for us. She’s been ruthlessly nitpicking herself in the mirror.”

A loud gasp is all you hear before Jayce goes into a tangent, “Who told you that?! Give me their names and I’ll black list them from the council! What on earth are you talking about?! Too much? Too much! I’d say there’s not enough!”

“That’s cause you’re greedy sweetheart.”

“Shut up Viktor, my point still stands! You’re perfect babe. Ignore the haters, they hate because they’re miserable in their own lives and we all know the saying. Misery loves company.”

Jayce walks over to you and places his mug next to yours, his frame towering over you as he brackets your back and puts his hands on your thighs, “I’d die if you changed anything about yourself, your legs especially. Don’t take away my earmuffs. I’ll cry.”

You laugh as Viktor joins in and cups your breasts, you gasp at the feeling of his cold hands breaching underneath your shirt. “And don’t take my pillows away. I’ll be devastated and my sleep schedule will be shit again.”

The snort you let out is anything but lady-like, but they got their point across. They love you no matter what, even if they have favourite body parts of yours.

You smile at the two of them through the mirror and their eyes lock onto yours, before looking at each other; having a silent conversation.

“Y’know what… breakfast can wait. I’m hungry for something else.” Jayce states as he looks at you, his eyes big and pleading. His hands travelling up your thighs, over your undies, and he grips your exposed waist.

Viktor chuckles when he squeezes your breasts harshly and you gasp at the sensation, “I agree Jayce. What do you say my love, are you willing to indulge your two boys?”

You nod and before you know it, Jayce has tossed you onto the bed. Your coffee and breakfast completely forgotten as Jayce lowers himself in between your legs as Viktor sits behind you; his hands removing your top as he fondles your breasts and kisses your cheek and neck.

You’re their goddess, and they’ll worship you like one as well. They’ll continue to worship you until the end of time. Your devotees… How lucky you are.

Society sucks. Beauty standards suck. We’re all beautiful, expect we don’t see it. It’s time we pull the wool off of our eyes and see ourselves as we truly are. We’re perfect. No need to change anything. I hope y’all liked this, it made me feel quite a bit better. Love ya ❤️

[thornsofthenightcourt]

What has this fandom come to?

So i usually never post on tumblr. i've always been a silent supporter for all my fandoms from the same blog i've had since middle school, mostly supernatural and it2017, etc.

But in the past few years, ACOTAR has utterly consumed me. It got me out of a 5 year reading slump and honestly brought back my fan girl self, someone who i havent seen in a LONG time.

I didnt want any spoilers for ANYTHING, so i stayed away from all online discourse surrounding these books. I was SO SO excited when I finally finished ACOSF to come on here and once again silently watch the fandom of a series I have grown to love so much.

Boy oh boy was I utterly confused. Not that i was expecting much, but as someone who stayed far away from any outsider theories or ships or anything, i truly expected everyone or the majority of people to be on the side of elriel??? Based on the CANON (yes, CANON) scenes between the two throughout all 5 books, and SJM making it very obvious that elain and luciens mating bond is the ONLY mating bond to ever be questioned, and Feyre herself creating the most romantic and iconic couple name for them, and nesta knowing why Az was the way he was on solstice night, i just kind of assumed that everyone picked up on the fact that elriel was next?????? The same way i could tell Nesta and Cassian were next since ACOWAR. I genuinely did not think there was any other conclusion to be made. Even my friends and family who aren't online agree that elriel will be next.

So imagine my pure shock and horror i had when the first fanart of az was with gwyn of all people? never, and i mean NEVER, during ACOSF did i picture them being together. As someone who purely only read the books and based my theories on what i was READING (cough cough ACTUAL CANON), it was always az and elain, just like it was always cassian and nesta even before ACOSF, just like it was always rhys and feyre even before ACOMAF (knew he was going to be the mmc when she described him as the most beautiful person she's ever seen). From the very moment the bat boys met the archeron sisters i picked up on the theme of three, the rulers, the warriors, and the spies. "Oh but its so boring and predictable" YOURE READING A FAERIE ROMANCE SERIES WHAT DO YOU EXPECT? It's almost like symmetry and patterns are IMPORTANT to story telling. It would be so unsatisfying if it was 2 sisters and 2 brothers, and then one sister and her unwanted mate who didnt stop her from being kidnapped and dragged into the cauldron, and then one brother and this random chick who was in the last book as a side character, only there to aid the plot line of a main character. It's almost like 3 sisters and 3 brothers is the perfect way to wrap up the stories of all 3 archeron sisters.

It's been months now of me just silently watching the ship wars go down (why is this even happening, why are we shipping someone with the very person who is making her visibly uncomfortable and cave into herself, like im literally going to crash out) and i quite literally have had enough. I cant be silent anymore. This fandom is the most toxic, anti against the literal series they are reading, compared to ANY other fandom i have been it. Dont even get me started on the whole rhys is evil and the IC sucks debate. I just genuinely have never seen a fandom deny canon text so much? How. HOW??

Anyways, my point is im sick of it. Elain clearly needs as much love as possible in this toxic ass household and I will no longer be a fly on the wall to witness her abuse. I LOVE YOU, ELAIN ARCHERON. You are fierce, beautiful, powerful, and have more kindness than all antis combined. To break you down into just a mate for someone just because people think he deserves it (spoiler: he doesnt) is utterly insane, and purely misogynistic and i will NOT stand for it. I am dedicating my entire blog to her from now on (and yes that includes az too, because CANONLY they have crushes on each other and want to kiss <3) because i am so sick of the misogynistic losers bringing my poor sweet girl down every chance they get. Elain you will always be famous.

(if you are against anything i said in this and comment, you will be blocked i dont even have the energy to argue)

[rassicas]

my general Side Order thoughts:

I don't have much of anything groundbreaking to say. I haven't publicly said much in relation to side order in the first place, i don't want to build up crazy expectations, and I've seen much of the fanbase making solid theories anyways. also there has been a lot less information compared to ROTM which is great, I don't want to be able to predict the whole story before the game comes out. I'd rather be surprised like i was with octo expansion! here I just want to put out my thoughts real quick so people know where I stand and that yes i am aware of the Hints and Foreshadowing

Marina's quote at the end of her interview in Splatune 3 is relevant of course, gives us a sense of what this whole world of order is. But did she build it this whole digital simulation, or was it something she found? (mix of both perhaps? found it, contributed to parts of it and it went out of her control?)

Mem cakes, agent 8, cerebral theming...very interested where this all goes. love all the references to OE keep em coming

People have been talking about this already, and the foreshadowing was acknowledged back in haikara walker in 2018. the hat logos on dedf1sh and paul gotta be connected to this thing.

It'd be a huge waste for a more grown-up paul to not show up in s3, either as someone mentioned by Acht or for him to make some sort of musical return post side order.

Glen fiddler has always been interesting to me (in that i anticipated he would become plot relevant somehow) with how he was fully 3d modeled in his sunken scroll. im not 100% on if hes gonna be in side order but the copy machine connections in side order (the fish skeletons in splatoween, also the recent poster?) are sus

^has to be agent 4. of course. seeing enemy inklings instead of enemy octolings sounds awesome btw

I'm expecting the inkopolis square hub to come back as a thing you can access post-game. pearl and marina splatfest concerts

iso padre please come back to me (maybe in said inkopolis square hub world)

who the fuck are you. not a mantis shrimp, looks too soft to be a crustacean to me. closest thing i can compare this to is a black dragonfish nymph but i kind of doubt it. maybe it is some guy who was created to manage things, like CQ to the deepsea metro?

[its-tuff-out-here]

Rafayel × fem!Reader/MC/whoever you want

It's finally my day off, and I had nothing better to do. Not used to being without work, I decided to bother my boyfriend.

Which, normally, he wouldn't mind. But Thomas has been on his ass, so he's not able to pay much attention to me. And hes been grumbling about it since i arrived.

"What if I just don't finish this?" He asks rhetorically.

Despite it being a rhetorical question, I answer regardless. "No, Thomas is gonna be mad and end up lecturing me about distracting you."

He groans loudly in response and continues to paint. His hand moving harshly as if using the paintbrush to slice the canvas. Paint splattering, which makes me take a step back.

I lay on his couch and watch him. "Please don't break or rip the canvas. Then you'd have to restart."

Rafayel scoffs. "Nah, it would be part of the art. Very creative and artistic to change the canvas, you know."

"Right, right. Of course." I merely hum as I watch him.

Suddenly, I hear a notification from my phone and look down to read it. A random account texted you, and the profile picture shows a pretty girl.

Sylvia: Hi! Im sorry, i know you don't know me. But I just wanted to tell you that you're literally so gorgeous! 🥰

And of course, there's nothing else for me to do but squeel quietly and kick my feet in the air.

Rafayel looks back at me in confusion. Easily distracted from his painting. "What's up with you?"

"A pretty girl called me gorgeous!" I answer with a huge grin.

Rafayel's brows furrow subtly. "Oh yeah?" He huffs and turns back to his painting. "I call you gorgeous all the time. I've never seen you squeel like that." He grumbles.

I roll my eyes. "One, you're my boyfriend, your opinion is biased-"

Rafayel whips his head back at you indignantly. "It is not-"

"Two, she's a pretty girl. Being complimented by beautiful women is much different." I finish, matter of factly.

Rafayel's brows furrow deeper. "... Who would you rather get complimented by?"

I look back at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Pretty women, or me?" He asks.

"You're ridiculous." I sigh.

"You're not answering the question." He retorts.

"Obviously, you."

"Is it obvious?" He pouts and stands up to walk towards you. "Lemme see who it is."

I roll my eyes once more before giving him my phone as I sit up on the couch.

"No pictures on her account other than a cat. Automatically suspicious." He grumbles. "I think she's a scammer. Shouldn't text her back."

I huff and stand to try to grab the phone back, but Rafayel dodges my hands easily. "Raf!!"

"And she's not even pretty! First of all, I'm much prettier!" He continues to speak as he looks at her profile picture.

I scoff. "Comparing anyone to you is unfair. That's like comparing a professional's greek statue to a beginner's pottery cup."

He immediately perks up at that and grins. "Yeah? You think I'm as handsome as a greek statue, cutie?" He all but purrs as he teases.

"I never said that." I grumble in embarrassment.

"You said im the most attractive man in the world." He says as his grin widens.

"I never said that, either!" I exclaim.

"You basically did." He says with a cheeky grin.

He sets my phone down on the coffee table before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling us both down to fall onto the couch.

"You think I'm handsome." He whispers happily.

"Obviously." I huff. "Im not blind."

He chuckles and pulls me tighter into his embrace.

"The most handsome in the world?" He asks.

I merely hide my face into the crook of his neck. Annoyed and embarrassed by his teasing.

"I'll take your silence as a yes." He concludes before kissing the top of my head.

"I also think you're gorgeous." He whispers, as if it's a secret for just the two of you. "So much so that the art i make always seems dull beside you. The day I make something nearly as magnificent as you is the day that I can retire. Because nothing else i make would be able to match it."

I can't help but snort. My cheeks burning against his neck. "You're so cheesy."

I can hear his grin before he shifts me in his embrace, forcing me out of my hiding spot to look at him. "I might be. But it's your fault." He accuses.

I look at him incredulously. "How is that my fault? I never say stuff like that, so you couldn't have gotten it from me."

"True." I feel his lips on my forehead. "But you're so breathtaking." His lips move to my cheek. "There's no oxygen left to go into my brain." Another kiss to the opposite cheek. "How am I supposed to think of anything smart to say when I cant even think?"

He continues to litter kisses all over my face. I feel my cheeks burn brighter, both from his words and actions.

"You're too attractive. It's dangerous at this point." He sighs as he finally relents with the kisses and plops his head back onto the armrest of the couch dramatically with his eyes closed.

"You're so lame. I wanna bite your head off and chew." You blurt out.

He smiles and cracks his eyes open enough to look down at me. "I love you too."

I nod my head. "Mhm, we just said the same thing."

He chuckles and finally pecks my lips.

My phone goes off one more time. We both glance over and the same girl from before texted me. Seeming uncaring that I haven't responded to her first text.

Sylvia: I'm sorry if this is rude, but are you into girls, by any chance?💕

Rafayel immediately tries getting the phone first, but he's held down by my body on top of his. "Tell her you're not. You're only into Rafayels. Specifically Rafayel Qi. Actually, only Rafayel Q-"

"I got it, I got it." I laugh softly as I text her back. Merely apologizing and saying I'm taken, while also thanking her for the compliments.

"Whyd you say you're sorry?" Rafayel grumbles as he reads your texts.

"Because I might've saddened her or hurt her for rejecting her?" I answer.

Rafayel grabs your phone and gently tosses it to the side. "Don't be sorry. Reject people with confidence and without shame. You're dating me after all."

I sigh once more and lay my head on his chest. "Youre so annoying."

"You love me."

"I do."

Masterlist

[withlove-xixi]

— SANJI NSFW THOUGHTS: sanji x reader

ᥫ cw: nsfw, pet names, praise, also cum, roleplay ★ my favorite white guy ... sanji my darling boyfriend ... i miss him i need to start watching one piece again — MINORS DNI! —

first things first, i'm putting my foot down and saying sanji is simply too service top for me to see as a power bottom. im sorry, as much as i know he would be wrapped around your finger, he's not completely powerless. sure if you told him to bottom, he'd be bent over and spread open before you've even finished asking.

that being said, his submissiveness is done completely out of love. he's always treating you like you're the most precious thing in the world, because to him, you're nothing less.

hes definitely not that kinky i'd say, hes just willing to try things you'd like. sure, there are some things that would turn him on (doesn't everything lol?) but i think there would be very few of what hes actually into and definitely some he'd absolutely refuse to do.

ive seen other people say it, but idt he'd be big on like spanking or other kinds of pain play, simply because the idea of hurting you (consensual or accidental) will actually drive him insane and he'd explode. he's a bit wary of things like bondage too because what if you get hurt? your safety is always his priority, he'd do anything to ensure it.

idt he's keen too on the idea of threesomes, voyeurism, etc because hes a bit .. possessive of you. at least, maybe he would allow sharing you if he had the reins. like if he was able to dictate how things would happen and stuff, because otherwise he wouldn't dare even entertain the idea. i think sanji finds sex to be intimate more than anything, it's a way for him to show his love to you, so why must he share that? that isnt to say he hasnt thought about having multiple partners during sex, the idea's passed through his mind once or twice before and it's gotten him flustered, but it's hardly anything he'd really want to do (again, unless he had control of things or if you really begged him for it)

oh and he is so good with praise. he's always showering you with complements even outside of sex. it's always "good job, darling" or "i've got you, sweetheart" and aughhh!! he's just sweet like that. he's always planting kisses on your thighs or chest, on the back of your hand on against you palm. PLUS PETNAMES! he loves calling you all sorts of things, comparing you to summer days or sweet flowers. it was like he was always finding new ways to tell you he loved you.

i think sanji likes looking at you too. sometimes he could be a bit too mesmerized by you, staring intently, hungrily with those pretty blue eyes. he's taking in every detail of your face and body, every bead of sweat on your skin, the shine of slick on your thighs, the rise and fal of your chest. sometimes he gets too busy staring he stays completely frozen lmao.

and ... i think he likes watching you covered in his cum. like he'd cum as deep as he can inside you snd spread you apart just a bit to watch it ooze out, or he'd cum on your belly and smear it over your skin eith his fingers, or he'd cum all over your face and watch it drip off your chin (oh he is definitely getting a nose bleed from all that)

his favorite thing though is when you dress up for him. whether is frilly revealing tops or lacy lingere, he's getting hard as soon as he sees you. again, idt he's got too many kinks, he's just willing to try things out with you, but if there was anything he liked the most it might be roleplay. there's something about seeing you in different outfits and seeing you play the role of a nurse or a doctor sends his blood rushing to his dick lol.

[goldenclover-16]

TPOT 17 SPOILERS

Ok so it's finally out and I need to word vomit about it cause this episode was PEAK

First off Pen being sad and watching Blocky's old show for comfort, at least TV is finally doing something. Pen is going through some shit losing both his best friends and seeing it expanded upon is great.

IM SORRY BASKETBALL IS JUST HERE?? SHES OKAY?? I had thought One kidnapped her too but I guess not, but none of the other eliminated contestants mention anything about One. Has Basketball NOT SAID ANYTHING TO THEM!!??!! She was one of the people to resist their the deal and knew something was up. Even if One jumbled her speech or something so nobody could understand wouldn't they at least mention something?? Either way nice to see these guys again, also theories on where the EXIT door leads, I personally agree with it being either the second hotel door or equation playground. No Gatey though so they've more then definitely been kidnapped.

Oh Bottle's hosting this episode? Cool I like her silly vibes god knows CloudYay need it right now they stressed about the elimination. But also it's kinda sad seeing other people keep hosting for Two I really enjoyed them.

Pencil's panic attack was cool to see, last she remembers it was vote to eliminate so frankly it was pretty reasonable. Donut having to calm her down and remind her it's vote to save.

Anyway eliminations and honestly I think this was best case scenario. As much as I like Pillow and YellowFace most of the team was going through more important arcs. The only person I feel could be switched in without too much changing is Winner. Also YellowFace being so panicked and not wanting to go, things were finally going really well for him with Taggy. Hopefully they will be able to keep the warehouse going without him.

This whole scene with Fanny and Tennis Ball was cool, seeing how One is actively attempting to stop word spreading. I've already seen other people decipher the board so I'm not going to put it here (I'm lazy ik and also don't care).

Damn, Two still got depression and looks like shit, they're just bed rotting. I can't personally comment on how accurate the portrayal is but from what I've heard it's pretty accurate. Give them their wife back PLEASE I NEED TO SO THEM HOST AGAIN. Also i've seen people mention how Two is slightly paler and thinner from last episode which is concerning, hopefully they'll be okay. . .

THE FOURSE RETURNS HAHA IT'S SO ANGRY I LOVE HIM

Ok onto the contests I just had to mention this first.

The eating contest was some fun comic relief while everything else was happening, interesting teams to put on it as well. We got Black Hole sucking his up, Taggy selling theirs (nice to see the failed debuters out and about as well as the giant David) and Winner just... absorbing it? Liy being the only one who has to eat normally. Black Hole's little moral dilemma with the bugs was great, seeing him learn to balance the P.A.C.T with finishing challenges, he was trying so hard. Also Winner with the Loser O's, seeing that Loser maybe cared more about him then he thought, Also Loser not being famous anymore? Damn that episode really came back to haunt him.

I don't really have much to say about these guys, it was pretty tame compared with everything else going on. Nice to see Pen trying to branch out and connect with people.

Pencil and Book crash outs HOLY SHIT THIS WENT HARD! Pencil is traumatized from being in the E.X.I.T for years and wants things back to the way they were before with the alliance but has no idea how to convey her emotions properly which leads to her seeming obsessive and selfish. Her actions are sill bad but it's clear it's because she's hurt and traumatized and because of that is left emotionally unstable which leads to her accidently pushing away the people around her. Despite this I find Book pretty reasonable in her reaction if you look at it from her perspective, she had just managed to repair her relationship with Icy by giving her space and has practically forgotten about Freesmart till Pencil joined back. By this point Book has moved on and found new friends in Winner and Taggy but Pencil just comes in and expects Book to immediately want the alliance back. Book needed the same space Icy did for there to be a chance at healing their relationship but Pencil, unlike Book at that time, is highly unstable and unable to regulate her emotions so she suffocated Book which only leads to things getting worse. Pencil desperately needs some therapy.

In the end, Pen's talk with Pencil does give some hope at a redemption arc, it would be messy and painful but possible. Pen understands what it's like to lose all your close friends, and he could have become like Pencil except he still had people to catch him, namely Liy. Pencil had nobody going back into the game. Hopefully Pencil will listen to him and maybe Pen could continue helping Pencil become better.

Going back to some tamer stuff for a bit the haunted house group was interesting to watch. The writers finally gave TV something to do which is great but he's still one I wouldn't mind getting eliminated. The nature vs mechanical theme was interesting and just more showing of the slight negative bias towards mechanical minds from the contestants. Admittedly though Tree had a point for leaving TV to save both himself and Grassy but TV still had a right to be mad. Him controlling the spider mech was cool, Spid-TV lol. The fight scene was cool and just having Tennis Ball and the Fourse crash onto the mech was funny

Now onto the best part of the episode, Donut unironically just became on of my favourite characters now because of this episode. One's room is destroyed and she is clearly unstable, things are falling apart for her and Donut's ass is not helping that. He is suspicious from the start about the contract and is the first I believe to actually ask what's in it which One immediately deflects. As their interaction continues One becomes more and more agitated by Donut's refusal to sign, eventually having a full crash out while slamming him against a table and stealing his legs as well. Props to Donut here for sticking to his guns and not changing his mind despite having his last limbs actively ripped off which kinda reminded me of BFDIA Pin when her limbs were removed. Connection? Probably not but fun to note. Also notice how One has switched from manipulation and sweet talk to straight up threats and blackmail to get deals, most people left in the game to take for deals are smarter and questioning her which isn't great for One. Her facade is breaking apart as she has to put more and more effort into securing deals.

I also wanted to go into Donut getting his limbs back anyway at the end of the episode. I believe this could represent how One is actually quite powerless in a way. Sure she has her magic which we've seen to be very powerful but it can't control others. While we don't know right now why One needs to make deals with the contestants it's clear they're important to whatever plan she has. And to get those contracts the contestants have to actively sign them, she NEEDS the co-operation of the contestants and that's not something she can force through her magic, they always have the option to deny her no matter what she does. We see through this scene that the contestants don't need One to solve their problems and without her they will find a solution on their own. I like to think that if One hadn't interfered when she did for any of the deals they would likely solve their own problem soon after like shown here. And that's not even mentioning the POWER Donut has right now. While contestants like Fanny, Ice Cube, Gatey and Basketball know something is wrong, especially Fanny as we see her actively try to show Tennis Ball he research, they are all under contract. They have all accepted a deal. DONUT NEVER ACCEPTED THE DEAL AND NOW KNOWS WHATS GOING ON WITHOUT ONE BEING ABLE TO CALL IN A FAVOUR TO STOP HIM. He is now arguably the most powerful out of the resistance gang now due to this.

Now this last part is purely speculation so it could easily be proven false but I noticed how both Fanny and Ice Cube could make out their research while Tennis Ball couldn't. While this could just be One messing up his vision specifically what if knowledge about One determines if someone can see the board. Tennis Ball has never seen one like Fanny and Ice Cube and would, by this logic, not understand the writing. But Donut, who has seen one would be able to. I hope that makes sense.

In conclusion this episode was peak, thanks for listening to this long ass ramble

[narcjsistx]

— why KAISER might hate NESS (and why he might not)

before today, i had never written a post where i actually explained my theories about blue lock. i've always preferred to talk about them in dedicated chats or just keep them to myself. 5his is the first time im making this kind of post — im not really sure how it works, but hey, im free to say what i think, right? just a heads-up: i have pretty random ideas that often aren't really connected to each other, but i'll try to make things as clear and understandable as possible

let’s start by talking about the characters in question: i think anyone who's at least finished the second season of the anime knows who Kaiser is — or at the very least, they’ve seen him once. he appears in the final scene of the last episode of season two, which ended around december 28th of last year and (though poorly) covered the arc of the match against the U-20 team. he shows up, but nothing is really said about him... that character, however, is Michael Kaiser, a striker from the German team Bastard München — a team that gets properly introduced starting from chapter 152 of the manga. the second character in question is Alexis Ness, a german like Kaiser, but he plays as a midfielder on the same team as Michael. the two are often mentioned together because of how close they are, both on and off the field: it's clearly explained that Alexis is referred to as "Kaiser’s midfielder" and their friendship remains strong even outside of their team uniforms. that said, it's worth noting that in the manga, the two haven't shared the same sense of harmony for quite some time now

alright, it's time to dive a bit deeper into the specifics and the background of their lives. from this point on, there will be full-on manga spoilers up to the latest released chapter, 309 — so leave now if you don’t want to know the details!

let’s start with Kaiser: born in berlin, the day of his birth is almost an insult to everything he represents. he was born on december 25th, 1999 — and instead of being a gift, he was the complete opposite. noth of his parents considered him useless trash, for the short time he even had both of them around. it's well known that kaiser’s mother abandoned him when he was still VERY young, and he has absolutely no memories of her or of her life after she left. he grew up in poverty with an abusive father, knowing nothing but punishment, and carrying the small, quiet wish that maybe, one day, someone would love him

he held onto small hopes thanks to a simple soccer ball — the only thing he truly had control over. we know that he was wrongly arrested at one point, but was saved by an important member of a soccer federation. from that moment on, he built his life around his team

before moving on to Ness’s backstory, i’d like to point out something i actually consider the most important: everything we know about Kaiser is because the narrative tells us, not directly from him. keep this in mind — it’ll come in handy later

moving on to Ness, we can say his childhood was definitely calmer compared to Kaiser’s, but not any less damaging for him: he grew up in a family environment where no one believed in him. he believed in magic and wanted to create it to impress others, and found his magic in soccer. but he truly started living when he met Kaiser at the first bastard munchen selection

of this last part, i ask you to remember the fact that no one believed in him. it’ll come in handy

let’s now talk about their first meeting, which takes place during the initial tryouts to join the official bastard münchen team. the entire selection process is told from Ness’s point of view, where we see him quickly lose all his hope because of the other boys, who seem stronger than him. their meeting happens purely by chance, and the way Kaiser speaks to Ness for the first time is a bit rude. however, it’s precisely from this moment that their duo begins — a duo that manages to pass the first selection. from that point on, the partnership between the two german boys begins, but let’s take a step back

chapter 242, their very first meeting

if we want to talk about the first selection from Ness’s point of view, we could describe it as a true nightmare: although he was once considered a boy with real potential to join the official national team, during the first selection he finds himself facing players who are clearly stronger than him, awakening the deep sense of inadequacy that his family had always instilled in him. we can say with absolute certainty that Ness nearly panics when he starts to believe he might not pass the selection and would have to admit that his parents — who never believed in him — were right. as he fumbles passes and stumbles, he finds himself agreeing with all those times they made him feel inferior, all those moments when no one believed in him. however, we know for sure that he's a player with real big value, but maybe due to his panic and anxiety, he isn’t able to fully express his real potential. when Kaiser steps forward for the first time, Ness is in a state of extreme panic, fully aware that he won't be able to pass the selection. as harsh as Kaiser’s words may be, they probably make Ness feel — perhaps for the first time — wanted, sought after, and not discouraged, unlike how he has always been treated. Ness’s goal is to create magic, and he knows that if he assists Kaiser’s goals, he can bring that magic to life. it’s as if Kaiser becomes the means through which Ness can reach his dream. moreover, the fact that it was Kaiser who noticed him likely leads Ness to believe that he is wanted, or at the very least, that he has found someone who believes in his potential

chapter 243, Kaiser's words that lead a Ness to trust him

from that moment on, the friendship between the two boys begins — a friendship that is shown to us in just a few panels: it feels genuine, probably something both of them needed after their childhoods. we see them experiencing moments of normalcy, doing typical teenage things, but above all, we reach the scene that i velieve is the most important in their relationship. it’s a moment of everyday life, yet it holds great significance for both of them because Kaiser opens up to Ness for the first time, explaining his desire to prove himself, to be, and to achieve the impossible. it’s in Kaiser’s words, in the way he speaks, that Ness finds himself, for the first time, giving up his own dream and embracing Kaiser’s instead. it’s a crucial scene in their relationship because i believe it marks the first instance of Ness submitting — he, who had always fought for his own dream, now finds himself letting it go in order to fight for someone else’s. it’s a powerful scene for both of them because Kaiser opens up about his past for the first time, while Ness takes a step back to make room for the striker

before moving forward, however, i'd like to take a step back and return to Kaiser’s speech instead

when it comes to him, we all know that his past was extremely complicated — marked by abuse and, above all, by the absence of anyone who genuinely cared for him. the only things Kaiser knows are rooted in violence, in a sense of punishment, and in a deep feeling of inadequacy, because he’s fully aware that he was never wanted. Kaiser doesn’t know what love is, he doesn’t know what it means to be desired, or even to care about someone else or about himself. however, he knows it’s an emotion that could bring happiness to his heart, in fact, his one true wish is to be loved. however, all the information we know about him isn’t told by him directly, but rather in third person — so it’s an external narrator who tells his story, following a point of view that’s considered valid but not necessarily truthful, as it doesn’t convey his real emotions. in fact, Kaiser never actually says he hates his father, even though we take it for granted after everything he went through because of him. all the feelings we attribute to Kaiser come from what we infer from the backstory that was told to us. even though it follows events that really happened, it doesn’t tell us what Kaiser was truly thinking or feeling at the time — it’s told in third person, not in first

the narration tells us that his mother abandoned him, but we don’t actually know whether he’s aware of her or of what she does for a living — that she’s an actress. we also don’t know if he even realizes that his father was a director. i’ve often wondered whether Kaiser ever tried to escape from that toxic environment, but i came to the conclusion that he probably doesn’t truly hate his father. he’s definitely terrified of him, but the fact that his father kept him around likely causes him to feel a kind of toxic affection toward him. he might even believe that his father has some form of affection for him as well — because otherwise, he would have done what his mother did, and abandoned him (please someone give that boy a healthy relationship it hurts me to see that fucking blue emperor rat in that condition)

chapter 260 for the two slides and 267 for the last slide, the ball is super important for his personality

now let’s look at the theory of the ball, a theory that i believe is extremely important and closely connected to the current relationship between Kaiser and Ness. in these panels, we’re briefly shown how, even though Kaiser sends the ball away, it inevitably comes back. i won’t go into the physical phenomenon behind why the ball returns, but i'd like to focus on how this connects to the relationship between the two boys: you can treat the ball however you like — badly, well, with care — it will still stay by your side. that’s exactly what is currently happening between them, during the match against PXG and during their most recent encounter recorded so far in the manga. let’s move on to talk about what has currently happened between them

the main fracture arises in chapter 267 when Kaiser tells Ness that he no longer needs him — a realization he reaches after scoring the most iconic goal in the NEL narrative arc. Kaiser understands that if he wants to evolve and win the game, Ness now has to be eliminated because he is only holding him back from evolving. Ness, in fact, represents the past: he symbolizes a Kaiser who has just escaped the toxicity of his old home. meanwhile, the Kaiser we meet against PXG is a boy who knows he has something more to prove, and if he wants to do that, he must become the impossible. if he truly wants to win, he knows he has to sacrifice everything, and Ness is part of that everything. moreover, as the chapters progress, a pact begins to form between Kaiser and Isagi — a pact closely tied to their shared desire to end the match with a winning goal for bastard münchen. a chemical reaction starts between the two, and Ness, of course, finds himself watching them, trying to get involved, trying to prove to Kaiser that he can still be the midfielder who helps him score goals, to achieve the impossible. however, all of this only leads to a greater humiliation for him, as he often makes mistakes during plays that end up harming the team. as a result, he earns harsh words from Kaiser, who even tells him that he should quit soccer because he no longer has what it takes

chapter 268, the main fracture

chapter 288, their relationship is officially dead

the further the story progresses, the more their relationship falls apart. ee often see them arguing, but most of the time it’s just Kaiser insulting him. as of now, there hasn't been any resolution between the two, but the story has reached a crucial turning point: despite being cast aside, Ness recognizes in Kaiser the very thing he’s always longed for — being seen as human. it's a scene that lasts only a few panels, yet it's considered the last time — at least for now — that the two appear together. it's a scene full of meaning, especially when you consider that Kaiser had clearly told Ness he no longer wants anything to do with him, and yet despite everything, it's Ness himself who approaches after the match ends

chapter 301, last apparence

with these last two panels, we come to the end of my speech. one thing I HATE is that most of the scenes from Kaiser’s past are never 100% true but always shown from different points of view, like Ness’s or a third person’s. let’s say that’s how the situation is with Ness: from his point of view, Kaiser is extremely excited, but are we sure that’s all true? there are actually very few similarities between his version and the one narrated by the third person about their past. we don’t see any negative aspects of Kaiser because Ness doesn’t see any negative things. from Isagi’s point of view, however, we have a more complete picture because he clearly admits that he admires Kaiser but does not have a good relationship with him

i genuinely think that Kaiser, for a long time after the first selection, cared about Ness, but due to his trauma and his will to achieve even the impossible, he later began to see him only as a means to reach his own dream. Kaiser knows very well that he doesn’t always have to give his best to Ness to achieve perfection, he fully understands that even if he gives the minimum he will still get the maximum, since by now he knows that Ness no longer has his own identity but one tied to wanting to make Kaiser succeed. Ness acts this way only because Kaiser was the first to believe in his abilities — meaning the first to make him feel like he mattered, like his magic could actually come true. their problem is that they’re not on the same level: Kaiser has clearly explained (and shown) that he’s willing to erase everything — himself, and even Ness — if that’s what it takes to evolve. meanwhile, Ness knows perfectly well that he could never leave Kaiser for anything or anyone else. as much as their bond is one of codependency, Ness’s dependence on Kaiser is much stronger than the other way around. Ness’s is an emotional dependency, while Kaiser’s is a dependency tied more to wanting to appear a certain way rather than truly striving to become something. what they have isn’t hatred, but it’s quite clear that a healthy relationship between them isn’t possible without dependency. that dependency could only be eliminated if they both worked through their inner issues — especially their shared feeling of not being enough

[caitlynspistol]

watching ror again (this time with more attention to detail), and here is what i've newly picked up on/noticed/want to point out again:

red doesn't want to be queen, doesn't like to be called princess

chloe has a very high sense of duty and honor to her family ("but when i'm out there i'm not just another competitor, i represent cinderellasburg" when talking about her dad signing her up for sns and reminding her that it was supposed to be about having fun)

chloe is part of the auradon historical society??

"and why you'll make a great queen" what about chad??

queen of hearts= empress of wonderland (ie. higher title than chloe should red take the throne)

"get it right or i'll show you punishment!!" yeaaa red had a SHITTY and traumatic childhood under a controlling and abusive mother

"im just a girl, arms open wide, looking for kindness, somewhere in your eyes" soooo even after all that red just wants her mom to love her and accept her and show her kindness! she was never a villain

wait. how does bridget know what red was thinking/singing about if red hadn't opened her mouth? this might just be a musical thing but hm. ability to detect emotions? they somehow connected in a way?

"rule a million years with you right next to me" okay so they probably live longer than auradonian people

og bridget doesn't allow red to eat sweets but red likes them

so qoh's cards have magic that connect directly to wonderland and can summon guards out of thin air, be used as ninja stars (strong enough to break fg's wand in half) and enlargen to create obstacles

lmao without mal as security auradon prep has none (substantial enough)

"everything i do is for you" qoh loves red in her own twisted way

umm i do think cinderella was (intentionally or not) involved in the prank. bridget directed the "humiliating a girl at her first dance, turning her into a monster in front of everyone" at ella and ella just said "you're right" ("you didn't care then, you were off with your prince")

"now make me proud, for once" red only indirectly sentenced ella to death to satisfy her mother and gain acceptance 🗣🗣 bottom alert (and bc ella indirectly challenged her lmao) also what she actually said was "treason. she's guilty of treason" qoh actually called the beheading

qoh kissed red's cheek when she did what she wanted (ie. physical affection as a reward??)

CHLOE WAS PULLING OUT HER SWORD AND WAS ABOUT TO CHARGE AT HER MOM AND THAT WAS WHY RED CHARGED AT HER AND ACCIDENTALLY PULLED HER ALONG THROUGH THE TIME TRAVEL

wait red is actually pretty good at fighting/athletic/stealthy. she held her own against a charming with skilled swordsmanship

("you're not gonna catch me when i fall" "maybe" with the lil up down checking out red look, chloe PLS)

("princess, goody two shoes, boo" just throwing nicknames are we)

"and if i'm the next princess of auradon, it's only a matter of time before she tries to turn me into a mini-me. i'm not gonna let that happen" okay so that's her worst fear. of turning into her mom

"okay i accept your mission" very knight-ly behavior much?

"i love history! don't you?" "uh uh" help-

whoa merlin academy has a lot of wands and magic around, esp compared to auradon prep

awww hades holding maleficent's hand

it looks like red's never seen musical instruments before with the way she looking at everything and picking them up lmao

bridgella <33

red's reaction to ella's punishment and grounding by her stepmother shows that she's experienced the same thing and is Traumatized

red comforting chloe after they look through the looking glasssss

okayy so chloe thinks red is a bad person just bc she wants to "break in and steal" even though that's like the only option?

gay conversation about red being a good person, "your own person" in front of the frozen vks

red believes she's a bad person herself, "a lost cause" bc she "lie, cheat, steal"

chloe believes she's a good person bc she stood up to a bully and "risked your life to save mine"

okay so morgie was the only one not with uliana and her crew bc he was on the lookout... which i think is an important detail that is different from the og timeline... and he seems nice... maybe he was the one who helped uliana actually open and read the cookbook instead? for the prank? hm