#it will probably be better after the end of April

[ov105]

Pink

This took a while to finish, and went in a more unexpected direction writing style wise. Finally got something out for Liz too, thanks to her pink jacket last April. I do like how it turned out in the end, and yes, lots of commas, as usual. Back to TripleS!

4,431 words of Kim Jiwon, well, Liz. Enjoy!

University life is monotonous. Yes, even factoring in the fun parts of it, school festivals, long nights out, mountain escapes from Seoul, and the liberal entertainment of vice, never forget the alcohol. No romanticized edit can represent the boredom you feel on some nights, just reviewing, worse, reviewing a topic that's becoming a chore. Though admittedly, dating was the same, a coin toss of a casual relationship, if you can even describe it as that, or a probable, actual relationship. Hopefully, in a perfect world, though, you can have both.

Living alone amplified that boredom. After giving up and shutting my tablet, after two hours I just enunciated my first word: "Fuck." I had already resigned myself to the thought that tomorrow's quiz could be sacrificed. Then, after watching whatever performative rot and gibberish I could see on my phone's feed, I was just about to give it up and try playing a game, offline, of course, to cure boredom, not transform it into anger. Sigh. One more look. One notification. 

[Are you bored?] Jiwon asked. 

I replied, of course I was. It was just past 10, and I wasn't so full, but not too hungry. Typically, it's "break-cum-procrastination time," but now someone asked to crash in my place. I have been dating Jiwon for a bit now. She was adorable on many days, goofy, silly, and fun to be around. Visually striking too, I could go on about how tall she was, but she had dyed her hair pink recently. That made her easier to spot. 

I asked her, and she was just as bored. 

[You want me to come over?]

I shot up in my bed. This could mean anything. I replied that, of course, I did. 

Another notification, her name, next to "sent a photo," with a play button beside it. Touch.

It was a selfie. Jiwon had her glasses on, angling her hand high with the phone, but she had her pink jacket unzipped, but not open. She was a brunette now—and had no bra—and wrote something on the lower left side, right below her tits, "I missed you somehow," with a kiss mark. Better than porn. It was an immediate yes from me. 

Another reply: [I'll get on the bus. You have beer there?]

I did, just six, the last six. I'm not much of a drinker, but Jiwon had an appetite for four. That was after we'd gotten used to each other, and it drove the conversations up and released her silly side, then turned it up to eleven. So it doesn't surprise me anymore.  Though, like we've done a few times now, whether it's after dates, even when it would've been wholesome during the daytime. It would end up, at her request, with her undergarments down to her ankles, bent over, pressed against the velvet IKEA couch she helped pick. This was going to be one of those nights again. 

Another photo, this time, she pulled her jacket to the side, it was the obvious sight—no shirt—just her cleavage. The shape of her tits tempted me, but I was an easy man when it came to her. I tried to find a more recent photo of myself and sent it. 

Another notification, it was a more wacky selfie, but she had opened what I sent. Jiwon was in the bus now, sitting in the back. I've seen her naked, but her teasing was always something. I remembered her photo and probably asked about the obvious.

[You really don't have a bra?]

[Nothing at all.]

She was just walking in here expecting to get a fucking. The thought of her just going out in public in her pink sweatsuit—such a loud color—while topless underneath, hoping to get her panties pulled down, and get fucked, already made my blood rush down. Though with eyes as big as hers, taking her missionary was always a treat. Yet, even while stressed out reviewing, I haven’t masturbated all day, so she was going to get more than one.

I did try to do something unnecessary. We never found it more annoying than having nothing to snack on after a session, though mostly, we just get delivery, then walk Jiwon back—though once she sucked me off in a shrub—to her dorm. I tried to intellectualize what was about to happen too; Maybe it was just about her time of the month? Maybe I played too much in our chats? Perhaps she found her fingers boring already. Anyway, she was on her way here, and my left hand was probably cheering for me; Finally, somebody else! It was about to roar its praises. 

[Can you pick me up? I don’t have a card, remember? ㅋㅋㅋ]

Oh, right. I thought it prudent to try not to make myself obvious. Maybe I should just throw a thick jacket on, too? Never mind. But anyway, just before I left my apartment, she did send a picture of herself, with a bag with what was probably some sort of bread or anything she could throw in my microwave. But food was the last thing on my mind. 

I wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to fuck on a fuller stomach, so I went into the staircase. Picking Jiwon up in the lobby of my dorm, I was glad that by then, the middle-aged man who often provided whatever semblance of security with a baton had gone up for his late dinner. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t care much, though he has occasionally recognized Jiwon as she got off the lift—she was a dancer who never liked the stairs.

We got on the lift going to my floor. It was a more economical six-story apartment, a little dated, greyly brutalist, cheap, but not seedy. It was a slow lift so that we could get the usual pleasantries. Seeing our reflection on the elevator mirror, Jiwon grabbed my hand and put it around her waist. Glancing at the display, it says floor 3B, one more. I checked her word for myself and slid my hand up the back of her jacket. Nothing.

Ding! Jiwon just shot me a look before the doors slid open; she knew curiosity would get the better of me. 

We were greeted by an empty hallway, knowing what was about to happen once I shut the door, I just kept in mind that the walls were pretty thick as I put my passcode in and pushed the handle down. Entering, I didn’t turn the AC off, just down a bit, and hearing the electronic lock, I thought of turning it colder. Then I felt a hand grab me and turn me around. So eager.

Jiwon tried to grab my face and kiss me, but I was able to push her gently to the wall and close the gap first. It wasn’t just a peck; a full-blown make-out erupted only a step from the door. Handsy as she was, I grabbed a handful of her ass and the soft flesh of her tit, squeezing ever so gently as I knew later won’t be so much. At this time, the light pink-haired girl whom people, strolling out and about, or on the city bus, had seen mere moments ago was now getting herself groped with her lips on the offensive. Her breathing was getting heavy only a minute in, but she didn’t come here for a kiss and a hug, no? 

Pulling my lips away, I suggested the couch, and in a pause, found ourselves in front of it. As a homebody Jiwon was, she lay down on the armrest, with me having only my knees and an arm to keep me from falling onto her while we continued where we left off. Waiting on me to do something, I looked for the hem of her pants with my fingertips and got it right on the first try, grabbing her ass with my left hand and squeezing much harder than earlier. Her lips on mine, both my hands in her pants, I thought I needed to do some “magic,” well, some sort of it. My fingers had to get this maneuver right. 

Press one finger, press two fingers. For prudence, she did have her panties on. We already had our tongues against one another, so I kissed her deeper. Jiwon moans; perfect. Her half-lidded eyes were wide open while I pulled away.

“You want to eat me out?”

I think I smirked. A bad impression of it, perhaps. Jiwon giggled as I knelt, pulled everything off her leg, and slid my hands back up. A tall girl, she always stood out from many, so don’t let Insta fool you, that also made her legs easier to fold back by the knee as I pulled away from her. She giggled and was expecting it, knowing that I always liked eating her out, and had readied and cleaned herself before she even told me. 

Jiwon knew that teasing me was enough of an excuse to get herself into my room. 

I got a whiff of her flowery scent, but wanted a taste of it. So I gave her thigh a peck, it was soft, so I put another on the other side. It only took a few kisses before there was a hickey on her left thigh, close to where I intended to land my tongue next. One flick right on her clit made it clear to her, hearing a huff leave her mouth. Sliding my tongue up the sides, and like most food, it tasted rather salty. Though quickly, I just paid attention to her pussy, with her letting out a soft moan as she held her breath, and when my tongue finished drawing, to a barely suppressed cry when I sucked on her clit. I was relentless, and that made her even louder, only shutting herself up when she covered her mouth and weakly tried to push me away. As always, it was a weak ruse. 

“You okay?” I asked Jiwon. Our stares met with a nod from her. So I continued, lick after lick, but making sure I sucked on her clit to make it matter. Wasn’t an hour of eating her out last week enough? Guess not. From holding her breath, she had shut her eyes, with her brows furrowed, arching her back a bit, exposing just enough of her skin through her jacket, with her zipper down but not yet removed. 

Slowly, I got a hold of her thighs while I continued to eat her out. It was more of a measure if she tried to lock her legs with my head in between. Between tracing circles over her clit and the occasional suckling that caused her to yelp and moan, I was more and more being greeted with the slow, telltale drip that came with my effort. Then maybe that was my signal flare to stick my finger in, I teased by sliding and poking it, just the tip, before looking up at the trapped lady on my couch. 

Jiwon had her eyes shut as her chest rose and fell, so I wasn’t about to ask. But she had that certain glow that only arousal can bring about. Even as I had dimmed the lights, just reading her face, she wanted to feel that release. She was close, and it was going to be a loud one.

She was holding her breath more now, though moaning more, arching her back and seizing up, getting wetter as her fingers grabbed onto my scalp. Closer now, so another finger in, careful, I shouldn’t be too hasty, rush, and lose the rhythm. I just knew to keep pressing where I got the loudest moans, and suck at her clit that became all the more swollen. The small, pink bulb was exposed and had nothing to hide from this tongue.

I kept pressing at Jiwon’s spot, aware that her juices would leave a stain on the couch as it dripped down my knuckle, hence the weighted blanket she lay on top of. Now, when she was close to cumming, her legs always began to close in around me, and her arms, long as they were, couldn’t push me. They often would do the opposite, and try to pull me further into her. All I could do was oblige, holding out just a little more before the inevitable came knocking. That telltale sign of a rightfully contorted face as that final bated breath left, her weight sinking and back arching as the long moans began. Her hand grabbed onto the couch as her folds tightened around my two fingers. I kept licking, and her other hand tightened around my hair, pushing me in, as she was at the peak of her orgasm now, feeling her drip to my wrist as she slowly began to come down from it.

For the first time in a while, we were able to talk. Catching her breath, a smile came from her as she patted me on the cheek. I commanded. 

“Turn around.”

Jiwon was quite slow in turning herself over, but soon I was able to undo my shorts and put them on the floor. Yet as I readied myself to fuck her, she called my attention, and the next moment, stood right before her mouth as she laid on all fours. She just looked up at me, craning her neck forward as she stuck her tongue out and took my half-hard cock in her mouth, fingers and lips wrapping quickly over the shaft. She looked up and gave five slow bobs, without breaking eye contact, before she shut them and suddenly sped up as she gave me a quick blow, uncaring if I was twitching. Still, she knew when to stop, even when it's been a while. When her lips popped, it only looked like she put on lipstick—using my cock—and it was all ready to go.

So I finally got behind her, and with Jiwon's eyes beckoning me as she shook her butt a little. I do not think of her as one, but she sure likes to act like a whore for me sometimes. So I gave in. Slightly pushing herself back while sliding my cock between her ass, teasing entry between her folds with a loud spank. Then, I slipped in. A whimper left her, and I pushed forward, my cock disappearing between her ass with the tip causing her to flinch a bit, a long exhale then a slap on her ass as I pushed my entire length inside, the tall brunette automatically snapping into that perfect, roaring in a mix of pain and pleasure as it filled her. 

Make no mistake, she always wanted to take it. 

A hand on her hip, another on her asscheek, and I started. No slow start, those few thrusts to make sure that tight fit didn't make me finish so quickly. The quick blowjob already made sure of it. There was no love for now, only lust. I started ramping up to fuck her, as per her request. Pulling my whole length out and back in, lurching her forward as my pace started to reach a tempo. Yet amongst the slapping that started, and the chorus she began to sing, we were enjoying ourselves. Finally, having an outlet for a long week that no amount of bad habits can satisfy.

Faster now, much wetter than a minute ago. Watching Jiwon’s whole body put us in lewd perpetual motion, the recoil from her ass bouncing back at me, one leg up so I can go deeper as it was met by my loins slapping against hers. It was not long before her breaths were getting shorter and feel her wrapping around my cock, only causing me to fuck her harder. I slipped out. I wanted to try something new, so I put both my feet on the couch, much like a squat, and slipped inside her again. She felt tighter this time, with my cock quickly angling downward. This caused a long groan, then a yelp as she turned her head at me, her eyes awash with pleasure as her mouth hung open. I leaned in for a kiss without breaking tempo. Though with how hard I was and my legs already burning quite a bit, I thought it prudent to throttle back and talk for a bit, finally granting myself the satisfaction of trying a position I saw some time ago. 3-2-1, noise.

I leaned in, able to put my legs down but still deep inside Jiwon, my thrusts now at a shallower tempo. I could appreciate her folds now, thinking of myself as so lucky as her lips came onto mine. I was lost staring into her big eyes when I realized, as a single twitch almost washed us over—she was fucking herself on me—but careful to match my tempo and not preempt the inevitable.

“You’re close again?” I asked. Jiwon just nodded and replied, “Maybe you should’ve asked that earlier.”

We continued in that way for a bit, a slow, gentler interlude to the fucking she asked for. Just giving myself enough time for that tightening feeling in my gut to leave me, but I couldn’t just waste the depth I was in. Yet Jiwon was already making use of it for herself. Spank! Her back arched so I might just hit her spot, her shallow, squelchy, but undeniably needy, hops making me shut my eyes as I tried to not cum before she did. Distracting myself with her lips as she made out with me, but amidst the strong stares, flicking of tongues, and slobbering of lips, she begged for me to cum in her if I wanted to. Often, I was tongue-tied when I was close, so I tried to talk. 

“How about you first?” 

She just smirked. Jiwon smirked. It was a signal for me to do something, and I wasn’t having any of it anymore.

Grabbing her by the elbow, I pulled Jiwon up. Such an angle was just right up her spot as I took back control and jammed my hips forward, the same hand I used to pull her to me was now wrapped around her neck. She looked back with an approving smile before the second one caused her to break, making her shut her eyes and bow her head. By the third one, she was a moaning mess again. I kept to the same tempo, deep but shallow, making her feel the entirety of my length as I hit her spot again and again, all while watching her ass bounce for me. Spank! Her moans began to rise again, having done her share of the work, while I fucked her to the end of it. 

She was often at her wettest when she was close, and I couldn’t guarantee I won’t follow her this time. It was delirium from her, telling me to go harder as she shook, trying to prolong the moment before orgasm that she craved so much. Yet, I followed orders, her orders, and as her back further arched, fingers gripping where she could onto me, she came—suddenly seizing up, throwing her head back and letting out a cry of exasperation as her inside squeezed my shaft. Fuck! I tried to think of anything else to distract me from following her. At her tightest, I didn’t stop moving, slow and deliberate. How counterintuitive! But she needed to ride it through, shaking, and catching her breath, her tune changing into low, weak moans as she came down. 

Pulling out, I wondered how I didn’t follow so soon as I plopped down on the couch. Just looking at Jiwon's dripping pussy, watching as it dripped down her leg, her left ass cheek somewhat red from the few hard spanks I gave her. She was face down, ass up, though maybe she’ll have her chance to see just how long I could hold. Yet I was also asking myself: Could she still ride me?

I didn’t think of what to do next. Jiwon could always do that later; it was my turn to tire now. I acted instinctively, standing before her as she lay on her back. She could only look on in shock as I grabbed her by the leg and flipped over, almost wrapping her in the towel. 

“Wait!” Jiwon yelled. 

Then, for a second, the girl I fell in love with leaned up to kiss me, deep, but it told me something. When I opened my eyes, a tit was peeking out of her jacket, grabbing it as I gave her another peck on the lips, before moving down and sucking hungrily on her nipple. She teased me for it, as always. Having her lie down, I grabbed her legs—long as they were—that I needed to angle them a bit sideways. She laid under me, full view, big eyes, round face, a slightly sweaty, long torso, and a pussy to penetrate. Her smile almost took me out of it. 

I didn’t need a guide as I pushed myself back inside Jiwon again, watching her features curl up into a grimace as she placed her head on the armrest. Her legs closed together made her feel tighter, something we discovered a while back, but had never tried with her this wet. It did allow me to do one thing; push my entire cock in. I did, and Jiwon stopped me once, then told me to continue again. 

A few deep thrusts in, just as I was beginning to fall into her siren song, listening to her moans like the way she would kill at noraebang, I almost lost track of the fact that this was supposed to be just a quickie. I then felt that familiar weight in my gut, but this time, it felt like a necessary end, having done what I had wanted. I looked down, watching her hair splayed out and down over the armrest, much messier than when she came, her expression perfectly lewd as usual. All this as my hips slammed into her, length disappearing into her pinkish folds, the recoil continuing us on. Only then could I make out a word that snapped me out of her trance. 

“Cumming!” Who? Her? 

I looked down as Jiwon's pussy contracted around my shaft. I could take it once, but I lost my grip on her legs when it happened another time, not when I was so close, almost falling mid-thrust as they opened headfirst onto her. She just smiled at me as I caught myself. Her arms embraced me and pulled me into her lips as I continued, needing to make up for my lapse. Oh, right, I needed to fuck her. 

My hips began to move again, and leaning over Jiwon a bit, we both knew the jig was almost up. If she goes this time, I'll go too. I watched her eyes dart and saw how I was railing her on the couch. Slowly, her eyes looked back up and found where the sweat had been pooling on my thin shirt, finally managing to focus on me. She knew I missed her well enough—both in idea and as flesh—to give it everything I've got in the first round. I didn't even ask, and she already answered.

"Cum in me."

I slowed down a bit—a mere feint, more so a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. Any longer I try, Jiwon might just tell me to stop. Too fast, and she might hit me for going too hard. I needed to time and not to lose the intensity of the moment. Putting our lips together and going deep, both savoring the feeling of leading and following her into the orgasm I owed. Her moans quickly rose in volume with her embrace pulling me tighter, even talking like a pornstar at one point. She knew she did it—and liked doing it—even if my best reply was just a strained "uh-huh". Though too many times before I already told her just how tight she was, if I did, I would cackle at how porno-like it would be saying it in such a tired state. We shared one last look before she mouthed the exact words again as she pulled me in.

Thud! Jiwon let out a squeal while our lips were together. I felt her arch her back as she tightened, with me halfway out as I felt myself follow. Grunting as I unloaded deep into her, as she wanted, being in the middle of orgasm only made us cum both so much harder. Slowing down as we turn into moaning, devolved messes. The sensitivity of it all was a high we chased and came to, and only shared between us. We have given in to our base instinct; this was the outcome. 

I just hovered over as I caught my breath. Jiwon’s lips were much redder now, another kiss, after which she scrunched her nose and said something that made me giggle too. Slowly, I pulled back and sat down, seeing the wet spot on the towel, which only confirmed why it had been so easy to do something that tight. Though I was just shocked at how much I let out when my load started dripping out the moment I pulled back. As she sat up, she told me not to worry about it before heading to the shower.

I just watched as she closed the door to the shower. Grabbing my phone, I thought about her earlier message. So much for that pink jacket; it was nice on her, and I need to throw it in the laundry. We were both sweaty messes, and I did not want it on such new furniture. 

It took thirty minutes, and then a different scene was on the couch. Jiwon and I were huddled in front of it with chopsticks on a bucket of fried chicken. There was never a dull moment with Jiwon. We were more laid back now, in new clothes, though I had to rummage from the pile she would always leave when she came over. The oversized tee she was wearing made clear she had no bra on, maybe it was intentional, or it was just cold. I think we were supposed to do round two. I’m not so sure about that now. I just needed to say something obvious to break my observation. 

“Really, dipping that much sauce with no bra?” 

“You’ve seen me naked, don’t sound surprised now.”

“Fair.” 

“And you’ll see more later too.”

[bucketsp]

what happens when you love me dry?

pairing : pazzi

content : angst (mutual pining)

a/n: heyy it's been so long I KNOWW, i've just been really busy with stuff so i hope i didn't disappoint you guys too much when i disappeared all of a sudden :( i also won't be posting as much as i did before for the same reason i was gone. posting this is probably so wrong after they've just confirmed last week but it's okay i'll make up for it soon. enjoy, remember that this is all a work of fiction!

also based off of staying by lizzy mcalpine because i love the song, as well as writing shit based off of music

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

december 12, 2019

paige is stretched out on her bedroom floor, scrolling through old usa camp photos, fingers hovering over azzi’s face in half of them. they’d just come back from those tournaments — still high on the idea of being unstoppable together — and she can’t shake it.

paige (6:18 pm):

still thinking about how we ran that backcourt last month.

you’d look even better in blue next year.

azzi (6:21 pm):

lol you’re relentless

you know it’s a huge decision

paige (6:22 pm):

i know

just say yes

come to uconn with me

we’d change the game

azzi leaves her on read for a minute. paige swore she saw her rolling her eyes through the phone.

azzi (6:26 pm):

i’m thinking about it. okay?

that’s the best i can do right now

paige grins, heart light, typing too fast.

paige (6:27 pm):

i’ll take it.

but i’m not gonna stop asking.

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

april 19, 2020

paige shows up on azzi’s doorstep with a duffel bag and the most chaotic grin, like she’s been waiting for weeks to pull this off.

“surprise,” she says, shifting on her feet, trying to look casual even though her heart’s hammering in her chest.

azzi blinks. “you are supposed to be social distancing, p.”

“i am,” paige insists, stepping closer, “with you.”

azzi tries to glare. and fails.

her lips twitch instead, and then she’s reaching for paige’s bag like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“you’re staying?”

“yeah,” paige says, voice softer, suddenly more serious. “if it’s okay.”

azzi bites back a smile. “you’re lucky my mom likes you.”

they settle into a weird, warm rhythm. long mornings of zoom workouts, afternoons helping azzi’s brothers with their shots in the driveway, nights curled up side by side on the couch, too close to be just friends, yet too far to be anything more.

paige sleeps in the guest room, but half the time she ends up curled up beside azzi, claiming the wifi is better there.

azzi doesn’t call her out on it, because she likes having paige close. the quiet reassurance of hearing her breathe at night, steady and familiar.

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

one night, the news is buzzing about canceled tournaments, canceled everything. azzi’s scrolling through twitter, quiet, jaw tight. paige nudges her shoulder.

“hey,” she says, “we’ll be back. you know that, right?”

azzi nods, but doesn’t answer.

and then, so soft she almost doesn’t hear it,

“thanks for coming,” azzi says.

paige grins, leans in, bumps their foreheads together.

“always,” she murmurs. “where else would i go?”

they don’t say i love you. not out loud. they'll never say it out loud. but it’s there in every look, every late night talk on azzi's bed, every routine they build together in the middle of a world turned upside down.

but azzi still hasn’t committed to uconn. paige tries not to push. tries to pretend the waiting doesn’t hurt.

but every time azzi smiles at her, or lets their fingers touch on the couch, paige feels a quiet spark of hope, that maybe, eventually, azzi will follow her.

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

june 16, 2020

the air is sticky-warm, crickets chirping, the faint hum of traffic in the distance. paige is sat on the wooden steps, talking a mile a minute, hands flying.

“like seriously, az, think about it. you on the wing, me running point, that backdoor cut you do? unstoppable. nobody in the country could guard us. we’d break every record.”

azzi laughs, leaning against the railing, hugging her knees to her chest. she loves when paige gets like this, excited, dreaming out loud, wide-eyed with possibility.

“and the crowds,” paige keeps going, practically bouncing, “they’d go nuts. i mean, it’s uconn. they’d put our faces everywhere, az. we’d be legends.”

azzi bites her lip, heart twisting. because she wants to say yes. god, does she want to. every part of her wants that vision, them together, unstoppable, making history.

but she also feels the weight of it, heavy on her chest. the expectations. the pressure. the idea of being paige’s teammate, not her own player.

she stares at paige, taking in the messy blonde hair, the hopeful grin, the way she’s still rambling about championships and banners.

it makes something inside her ache.

“paige,” she says gently, cutting in.

paige stops, blinking, smile faltering a little. “what?”

azzi looks down at the floorboards, fingers digging into her sleeves.

“i’m… still thinking about it.”

paige deflates, just a bit, shoulders dropping.

“you’re still thinking?”

azzi nods, voice small. “i’m halfway there.”

paige laughs softly, trying to keep it light, but it sounds more like heartbreak.

“okay,” she says, forcing a grin. “halfway is better than nothing.”

azzi watches her go quiet, eyes turning out toward the dark street, and she feels the guilt settle in. because she knows paige deserves someone all in, someone who doesn’t hesitate.

but she can’t lie, she’s not there yet.

maybe she never will be.

but for tonight, she lets paige talk about buzzer-beaters and nets cut down, and she pretends she can believe it too.

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

august 5, 2020

paige is lying there in the dark, her heart going a million miles an hour, because in the morning she’s leaving for uconn. everything should feel electric, thrilling, but it doesn’t. there's something about the energy in the room that feels off.

azzi is across from her on the bed, back against the wall, arms pulled around her knees like she’s trying to fold herself in half.

paige can’t stand the silence anymore.

“so,” she blurts, forcing a smile, “you’ll visit, right? i mean, you’ll come up, see the gym, meet coach geno, cd, everyone—”

azzi doesn’t look up.

“paige.”

her voice is so soft it makes paige’s stomach twist.

“what?”

“i need to tell you something.”

paige laughs, light and shaky, trying to make it a joke. “you’re not pregnant, right?”

azzi’s face doesn’t change.

paige’s breath catches.

“what?” she repeats, sharper now.

azzi bites her lip, staring at the floor. “i’m going to louisville.”

the words crash over paige like a wave. her ears start ringing. she actually sways forward, like she might be sick.

“what?” she says again, voice breaking. “you’re what?”

azzi’s eyes shine with tears but she doesn’t look away. “i’m not going to uconn. i committed to louisville.”

paige scrambles to sit up, clutching the edge of the mattress. “no. no, you didn’t. you told me you were still thinking. you promised me you’d think—”

“i did,” azzi cuts in, crying now, shoulders shaking. “i did think. i thought about it every day, paige. but i can’t go with you.”

“why?”

the word is a razor in her throat.

azzi wipes at her face with the back of her hand, gasping for air.

“because i’m terrified,” she spits out, voice cracking. “i’m terrified of being just your shadow. i’m scared of being the second name, the second face, the one they only care about because she’s standing next to paige bueckers.”

paige flinches like she’s been slapped.

“how could you even say that?” she snaps, tears boiling over. “you are you, azzi. you are a superstar. you’re the best player i know. you think i’d let them treat you like that?”

“it’s not about what you’d let them do!” azzi fires back, voice ragged. “it’s about what they will do! about how i’ll feel every day watching you shine, wondering if there’s even space left for me!”

“we had a plan,” paige whispers, so quiet she’s shaking. “we promised, az. you and me. together.”

azzi’s chest crumples, a sob tearing out of her throat. “i know, i know, p. but i can’t. i can’t do it. i need to know who i am without you.”

paige feels like something is being ripped straight out of her ribs.

“so you’re just leaving,” she spits, voice raw. "what about us, az?“

azzi’s lips tremble. “i’m sorry.”

paige can’t breathe. “you’re sorry,” she repeats, numb. “you’re sorry.”

the silence swallows them both.

the room feels like it’s shrinking around her. the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything pressing down until paige can barely breathe.

she watches azzi’s face in the blue light coming through the window, studies every inch like she’s trying to burn it into her mind. the curve of her jaw, the tiny crease between her brows, the way she’s always so peaceful when she sleeps.

it makes paige want to scream.

how can azzi sleep like that, knowing what tomorrow means? knowing she’s already said goodbye, even if neither of them used that word?

paige rolls onto her back, heart pounding so hard it rattles her ribs. she wants azzi to say something. anything. she wants her to whisper that she’ll change her mind, that she’ll follow her to uconn after all, that she’s sorry and she’ll stay.

but azzi doesn’t move. doesn’t say a word.

just breathes, steady and calm, while paige drowns three inches away.

she feels so far gone she doesn’t even care about holding her pride anymore. she’d beg, if she thought it would help. she’d drop to her knees, throw away every last bit of herself, if it meant azzi would be with her.

she should have told her the truth earlier, back before the shouting started, before they tore each other open. she should have admitted how scared she was to go alone, how she’d built every dream on the idea of them, never just her.

but she didn’t. she was too proud. too convinced they’d sort it out.

now it’s too late, and her throat is too tight to speak.

her chest aches like something’s clawing its way out.

it’s so unfair. how many times had she patched azzi back together? how many times had she given her everything, even when she was falling apart herself?

it feels like she loved azzi until there was nothing left, until she was dry, until she was more wound than girl.

and still, still—she would let her crawl back tomorrow if she asked.

because she loved her,

she knew azzi loved her.

yet they never admitted it to eachother, they couldn't.

her eyes blur with tears again. she blinks them away, tries to quiet the sob lodged in her throat.

it doesn’t work.

she shifts a little, close enough that their arms almost touch, and she stares at her, almost holding her.

if she touches her now, she knows she’ll break in half.

so she lies there, clammy and restless, the sweat sticking to her skin, her hands trembling against the blanket, waiting for a sign that will never come.

she wants to believe that maybe, someday, she’ll let azzi go.

that maybe she’ll look back and feel proud she didn’t try to hold on so tight.

but tonight?

tonight she can’t.

she lets the darkness close around them, and memorizes how her body feels beside hers, warm and familiar. the thought that it’s the last night they’ll ever share a bed—it’s a knife twisting right through her.

she presses her face into the pillow, biting it so she doesn’t make a sound, silently praying that azzi might wake up and change her mind.

but she doesn’t.

[chocolate-h]

،،̲ August’s regret.

ship: ellie williams x f!reader.

trope: exes to...?

contains: y/n usage. reader’s pov. angst, smut (!). canon universe. photographer!ellie x f!reader. both ellie and reader being 18+.

summary: ellie and y/n have broken up by some time now, when y/n is met by an invitation to a special party where her “dear” ex will participate at, as official photographer— fun thing is, reader despises el as much as she’s attracted to her. and ellie knows it very well.

wc: 5130.

reminders: english isn’t my first language! this story contains smut, read at your own risk!

𝓗 : hello. this is my first ever fanfiction posted here, and i hope you’re gonna like it. i gotta say the ending feels a bit rushed, i begun working on this story around late april and i only recently gave it an ending, so... that’s the reason. anyhow, enjoy ❤️

The gates behind your shoulders close with a thud, friendly faces greeting you with a nod as you enter Jackson after a morning stroll by yourself.

The summer’s early noon sun burnt your skin, sweaty palms holding your horse’s, Holly, martingale before you mildly pull it to a stop.

As you hop off, you hear a voice calling from the inside of the stable at your left.

“Y/N!” Tommy hollered, as soon as he noticed you.

Whipping your head in his direction at the sudden call of your name, you find the man hurrying towards you with an atypical excitement drawn on his traits.

You can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a sigh. You really didn’t want to talk.

Especially since you already had an idea of what it was gonna be about. And you were not going to like it.

You respond with a lifted eyebrow, hinting him to proceed.

“Joel told you ‘bout the party?” he spoke with utter passion, a grin that went from ear to ear… That goes away the second you shake your head.

“What party?” you inquire, forcing your voice to sound fairly clueless, and especially unbothered. Your guess was right. Yikes.

Joel vaguely mentioned the thing a couple days ago, when you went to him for help regarding a broken photo frame he knew how to fix, but changed subject after your outburst in hearing a certain name– That you had become very sensitive about.

How could you not, after all.

You grab Holly’s martingale and head her towards the stable, Tommy following behind you, continuing.

“Maria’s and me 5th anniversary!” his southern accent slips in, watching you place back Holly and feeding her an apple left on a basket next the entrance, by the same Maria probably. “Oh, how could he forget to tell ya?” he adds a sour mutter, mostly to himself.

You stroke the horse’s mane. “Beats me.” is your flat answer.

Tommy eyes you up and down, scrutinizing you. “You.. Okay? You seem off.”

His tones changes, going suddenly quieter and careful. He sensed your discomfort. You still didn’t understand whether it was because you were terribly evident, or simply because he knew you better than anyone else.

Nonetheless, playing dumb with him was useless. He was inviting you, of course. The matter was,

“Is she gonna be there?”

The question comes out tiptoeing, reluctant yet resigned. The answer was written in his front. You should know better than to ask the obvious.

His adam’s apple bobs, going quiet.

There was no need to say her name, everybody in Jackson knew. Him and Joel being the first ones to.

It was one of the main reasons the “always available” and “sweet” Y/N had turned into a vile presence to have around. It’s been months, however that anguish feeling kept lingering in your guts like a meal you weren’t able to digest.

Sleep deprivation and absent hunger were just two of the issues that woman made you the honor of gifting you.

It was why Tommy, Joel and Maria had became so careful around you. Actually, everyone who cared. Yet, the first one had gotten particularly soft on you.

After a long moment of silence, Tommy clicks his tongue. “Yes.”

You grit your teeth, shifting your gaze away from the man’s.

“But–” inhaling sharply, his hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. Before you can say anything, he continues. “Not as a guest. I asked her to be the official photographer.” a small, nervous, smile curves the corners of his lips upward, perhaps hoping this information would somehow make it look more appealing for you to come.

But you make a face. It only makes sense, considering that’s what she does. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make it any better.

“Please, Y/N.” his kind eyes beg you, “Maria and I would really appreciate it if you came.”

Your furrowed brows soften. How could they not, when the man that’s been the closest thing to a father for you asks you such favor. You were painfully aware of how much it mattered to him.

Which made it ten times harder for you.

“I… I’ll think about it.” your hands go back to take care of the animal, giving him your back as a sign the conversation, at least for you, was over.

“Please.” he insists. “I know it’s been hard for you,”

“Okay!” you cut him off. Hearing another monologue reminding you of how bad you felt, feel, is the last thing you need.

“I’ll come. Just– I gotta do some stuff, okay? Let me be.”

Without thinking twice, you blurt the first excuse that comes to mind. It’s all he needs to understand you’ve had it.

Mouthing what resembled a sort of heedful “sure”, he turns his back, leaving you alone with that voice that spoke in the back of your mind,

“Fuck me.”

What the hell did you just do.

You haven’t seen her since the breakup. Accepting that invitation meant not only you were going to see her, but also that you had to acknowledge her and, fuck no, perhaps speak with her also.

What did you just get yourself into.

،،̲  Time skip

That night came slowly. August’s noons felt endless when nothing was there to be done, leaving you huffing the boredom out of your mouth and trying to find activities to distract your mind with.

It was 9 PM, you had just gotten out of the shower after binge watching Tarantino’s films, when you hear knocks coming from the entrance.

Lazily, you go to check through the peephole who the person behind the door was, finding out none other than Maria had came to visit.

A rush of stress came over you. You never knew with her– one day she’d show up to bring the uttermost gut-wrenching news, while the other she just wanted to bring you homemade lasagna.

Another impatient couple knocks send you opening the door swiftly. Showcasing an unbothered face, you greet the woman with a strained smile.

“Uh, hi.” she smiles, after taking a glimpse of your… Conditions.

Your hair was still wet and you were wearing a wornout, piss color, tee with no pants on. Oh, an a pair of mismatched socks too.

You turn red until the tip of your ears, taking a silent gulp. “Hi, Maria. You need anything?”

“No.” she lowers her gaze, returning to her serious self. Lifting a plastic bag she held between her arms, she goes on, “I wanted to bring you these.”

You take a look at the bag, noticing a container within it.

“It’s sandwiches.” she adds in front of your confused face.

A small smile makes its way on your lips.

That simple gesture wasn’t new to you, not once she happened to show up with a bag of whatever for you to eat– yet you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly grateful every time it happened.

And, of course, it also meant she wasn’t there to bring any negative topic to torment you with.

Silently, you move to the side, allowing her in.

Entering your place, Maria goes straight to the table, posing the bag on top of its wooden surface and beginning to remove the container which held the food from it.

“How are you?” she asks without watching you, too busy setting the table with a couple glasses and a water bottle she went to take from your fridge.

You close the door and reach her side at the table, sitting down in one of the chairs around it. You grab a sandwich. “Fine.”

“Tommy told me you said yes.”

You take a deep breath. Throwing her a quick glance, you ask, “What about it?”

“Thank you.”

The sound of that simple sentence is so sweet and so rare you feel the corners of your eyes wetting up. Gulping, you lower your gaze to the table. “It’s nothin’.”

That moment between the two of you is over before it even starts. Maria shifted the topic on something more frivolous, for you to ease up a little, considering you were always pretty rigid these days. The two of you chatted for awhile—

It was only after she made sure you finished the whole food that she left, wishing you a goodnight.

She also gave you a small card with the date and hour of the party. This Friday, at 6 PM. Tommy already informed you it was gonna be at their house.

It was…. Happening. That card was its confirmation. The more you stared at it, the more you realized.

Those informations were enough for your brain to create imagines of all the possible ways that evening could go. Useless to say how much it made you sweat cold.

You were gonna see her.

You couldn’t help it. Didn’t matter how much time passed, it stuck with you, day and night. Especially night.

And now that you were all alone, again, in your empty house, flipping that stupid card between your fingers over and over again, you were seeing it all.

Her slim fingers holding that camera. The way she watches you and tells you how to pose, how good you look with no clothes on. Illuminated by the early dawn lights, giving you that erotic shade she so much loved, after one of your many nights spent exploring each others’ bodies.

It all goes back to you, punching your gut with memories of what you saw many times. Of what you were going to see again, in just a couple days.

Only this time she wasn’t yours anymore.

،،̲  Time skip · Party taking place.

The reflection on the mirror meets your irritated face, gazing up and down the dress you chose for that party with unsure eyes. What were you thinking. Seriously, going to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary dressed like that— God.

Red, you pull the mini skirt down, trying to cover your thighs the best you can. Of course it’s useless, with such length it could barely cover your ass.

Cursing yourself one more time for your poorly thought choices, you brace yourself for the crowd left downstairs when you went for the bathroom half an hour ago. You couldn’t spend the night there, as much as you wanted to.

Though it wasn’t your clothing the thing bothering you the most.

Ellie. Ellie, fucking, Williams.

Who else could it be.

It’s stupid, so stupid. You know it shouldn’t bother you, she shouldn’t have that effect on you. And you knew you, deep down in your core, you chose that skirt just for the sake of catching a glimpse of her attention.

And it worked, too. Getting pissed off for having the desired effect was the peak of hypocrisy from you. Well done, Y/N.

،،̲  Flashback.

It was 6 o’clock. The sun was still high on the sky and you were standing still in front of the door, with your knuckles white around the handle, drops of annoyingly warm sweat dripping down your temples.

It was too late to chicken out— is what you’ve been repeating yourself for a good moment now. Hell, you got there earlier too.

Hearing the muffled voices, which were way too many for your personal comfort, coming from the other part of the door, though, it sure made you question whether it really was “too late”.

“Uhm.” Someone behind your shoulders cleared their throat, the sound vaguely familiar.

You don’t turn around, feeling your breathing fastening.

Why. Why her of all people. Why now. Just, why.

“Are you gonna open that door any time soon, or…?” Ellie’s smile shows through her words, her steps coming closer behind you. “If you don’t mind, I have to get in.”

Without saying anything, unable rather, you move to the side to free the space. She walks closer, until reaching the handle with her hand.

Just as she’s about to open it, her gaze drops on you.

“You’re not getting in?”

“Not now.” you dryly answer, your feet suddenly very interesting.

“Uh, okay.” She says, pushing the door slightly open. “Nice skirt, by the way.” is the last sentence you hear from her, before she disappears into the house, closing the door with a thud.

Such good start.

،،̲  End of flashback.

Walking down the stairs to return to the living room, you smile your way between the people in there, fishing for a familiar face in the crowd.

“Jessie!” you merrily approach him.

“Y/N! Where were you? Maria’s looking for ya!” the boy shouts.

Definitely not something you wanted to hear.

With less excitement than before, you go ahead.

“Why?” you feel your insides sink. Please, let it not be…

“The pictures! She’s already made severals with other guests, you’re the only one missing!” he keeps shouting through the music, indicating with his chin the direction of the “photos corner” Maria set up for the purpose.

It was time. Turns out trying to escape didn’t really work.

You sigh, strangely accepting your fate without too much resistance. You’ve already made it through half of the time, might as well just push through a little more until the whole thing was over.

“I’ll go search her up.” you pat Jessie’s shoulder as a sign of gratitude for informing you, beginning to squeeze yourself through the mass of people on the dancefloor to go to the corner. Hopefully Maria was still nearby.

Once you get there, you let out a loud exhale for finally having back some vital space. There weren’t so many people in there, it was rather tranquil.

“Y/N! There you are.” Maria’s voice exclaims from a couple feet away, a glass of what you guessed was wine in her hand and an unbothered Ellie under her arm.

You struggle not to widen your eyes stupidly, shocked to notice how fucking drunk the most serious and rigid woman known to Jackson was.

“I looked everywhere for you!” she proceeds to add, almost spilling her drink on you when she gestures ostentatiously her surroundings. “We have to take the photos, go, go get the camera Ellie–” this time, caused by a quick jerk of her arm in the direction of the camera, Maria manages to spill the thing on you… Altogether.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Ellie hurriedly grabs the glass from Maria’s hand, placing it on the table next you, while you, on the other hand, were too busy watching with disgust your top and skirt gluing to your skin. It smelled pretty bad, too.

“Ugh–” you take a step backward, lifting your face towards Maria’s figure. To your surprise, you meet an apologetic Ellie looking back at you. “I’ll,” the girl holds the woman to her feet, “I’ll bring her to Tommy. She’s way too wasted.”

“I noticed.” you ironically chime in, although the bitterness in your tone, which wasn’t caused by Maria spilling the drink on you contrary to what one might think, but rather Ellie’s unwanted presence.

“Yeah…” she lets out an ashamed cackle. “Sorry about that.”

The sentence is accompanied by a glance, lingering on your naked thighs a little too long for it to go unnoticed. Before you can remark, she snaps herself out of it, going back to watch Maria with a cough that sounded vaguely forced.

“Ain’t your fault.” you mutter, turning your face away– and pretending you hadn’t catch sight of what she’s just done. “Look.” as you do, you see Tommy’s frame not to far from you, chatting with several guests alongside Joel. “Tommy’s just over there.”

Ellie nods, after peering at him. “’Kay.” she pulls Maria closer to her, gaining some gibberish laments from her.

“I’ll go then.”

Just like that, she takes off and drags herself, and intoxicated Maria, towards the man, leaving you by yourself.

Well, that was awkward, you thought. But at least Maria being so drunk she could barely speak was a sign she was having a good time, right?

Letting out the hundredth sigh of the night probably, you head to the restroom once again. Perhaps the couple had an hair dryer you could use.

They do.

When you open one of the drawers, you find the object immediately. It’s old and small, but you don’t mind, connecting it to the socket and turning it on.

Surely Tommy and Maria weren’t going to be bothered by you using it, you thought.

You take your time drying your clothes, unable to stop yourself from going back to the moment. You certainly wasn’t expecting to have a civil “conversation”, if so could be called, with her.

Your cheeks redden. The way she looked at you.

Didn’t matter it was just an instant. It happened and it was enough for you to rub your thighs together.

And God, was she hot. You weren’t able to see her earlier, when you two first “encountered” in front of the entrance due to your… Shame. But she looked so good.

 With those tight faded jeans and that white wife beater. Oh, she played your same game, you were sure. Even worse, considering you complimented those pieces in the past.

Perhaps it was way too irrational and narcissistic of you to think she wore that just because you liked how they suited her. Maybe it was a little too cocky of you to even think she remembered you saying you did.

Still, it made you wonder.

A couple minutes pass. The clothes were now fully dry.

Placing back the hair dryer, you fix yourself up a little bit, before descending the steps back into the crowd again, when a thought crosses your mind.

Honestly, after all that’s happened so far, a breath of fresh air really wouldn’t hurt.

You throw a glance at the door that leaded to the backyard, then a couple shots left and right. Nobody seemed to be looking at you.

Although you didn’t really see Tommy, Maria, nor Ellie.

The question of where they were crossed your mind briefly, tossing it away the second you stir your legs into the kitchen, to walk outside.

The second you close the door behind your shoulders, you inhale the fresh nightly air and let it brush your skin pleasingly. Summer nights were so the best.

The patio was adorable, to say the least; showcasing a small dining set at the right, and some white steps at the left, leading to the actual yard… Which was full of plants and decorations.

You’re unable to hide a small smile, seeing so vividly both Maria and Tommy’s touches all around you.

Quietly, you take out a small pack of smokes from your pocket, going to perch down on one of the steps. You light it up, after bringing it between your lips, and take your first inhale.

As you begin to lose yourself in your thoughts, you hear the door open mildly, warily almost.

You watch Ellie’s head pops out of it, looking both sides, as if seeking for something or someone. Her eyes lock on you when she sees you.

“There you are.” she enters the place.

Looks like she was indeed searching for someone. The question was, why you of all people.

You lift an eyebrow, fatiguing not to show how irritated you were for the interruption of your alone time.

“Maria’s passed out in her room. Gosh, you should’ve seen Tommy’s face when he saw her.” the girl laughs, stopping at a fair distance from you, with her back resting against the cold railing of the steps.

You don’t say anything, allowing her to go on with her monologue. Maybe she was going somewhere.

“I never seen her ease up so much. Well, it’s their night. Only fair she enjoyed herself, I guess.” she proceeds, eyeing the smoke in your lips. Actually, your lips.

Your brows frown. No, she definitely wasn’t.

“She’ll be so sorry she hasn’t taken the pictures with you, though.”

“Ellie.” you snap. “What are you doing?”

Ellie’s face becomes stupid, resembling perfectly a fish out of water. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“We’re not friends. We haven’t spoken in months, why are you coming to me and talking nonsense as if we’re on good terms?”

Strangely, your lucidity hasn’t left you. Neither did grudge have the best on you. For now.

It made your ex go silent, though.

“Listen.” you get up from your seat. “I have nothing against you,”

The way you held a straight face while pronouncing the biggest lie of your entire life was worthy of a Nobel for best actress.

“But I genuinely hope you won’t mind me not having any desire in chatting with you as if nothing ever happened between us.”

“I know you hate me.” a bittersweet laughs succeeds her statement, the “clueless” mask falling off of her face. “Everyone noticed.”

Her shoes seemed to be incredible interesting all of a sudden, redness spread on her cheeks and fingertips playing nervously with her silver rings.

“I just wanted to talk.”

An uncertain sheepishness you’ve never seen on her colored her tone. Almost softening you.

Almost.

“About Maria?” you sarcastically respond, taking a couple steps toward the door, until reaching its front.

Just as you’re about to leave, tired of that cheap interaction you were engaging in, you stop.

You know you shouldn’t say your next words, you should just go away and move ahead with your night. But you can’t.

Opening your mouth, an obnoxious phrase leaves your throat like a spit. Just a tint of the grudge that left you sleepless most nights.

“Go talk to Dina. I’m sure she’ll love to chat with you.” you say, stepping into the kitchen.

Oh, how you hate yourself for what you’ve just done. You’ve just showed you were still thinking about it— the reason El gave you that April evening.

A hand fetter the door from closing.

You whip your head behind you, taken aback.

“Dina and I are not together.” the shyness seemed to be gone all of a sudden. Now her body was just a couple inches away from you, uncaring of your wide eyes.

“I didn’t say you were.” you blurt. “Who’d want you?” a sour chuckle.

However your witty remark is not as witty as you think.

“You.” Ellie’s response is swift, confident.

And you hate how true it is.

Letting out another chuckle, this time spurious and very notably annoyed, you attempt another witty remark.

“I used to. Don’t get your hopes high.”

Another lie.

She knew all of them.

Because she’s the one who broke up with you. Not the other way around. She knew how much power she still had over you. How much you still liked her.

You wouldn’t be avoiding her like a plague, if that wasn’t the case. Would you.

“Hm, not sure ‘bout that.” a smirk splits her face. “You still very much do.”

One may argue you merely did out of a place of nuisance, having grown harsh feelings for her and simply deciding it was best for your persona to stay away from someone that no longer had a place in your life.

Alas that wasn’t your case.

“I don’t.” you breathe. Ellie Williams had a hold on your heart, every inside of your being really, to the point it burnt.

The interaction is ceased, momentarily, by a loud vociferate coming from the parlor where everyone was still partying in.

Looked like somebody, Seth perhaps, was arguing with another somebody. Who knew, from what it sounded like, could’ve just been loud cheers. You couldn’t tell.

And by the look of Ellie’s confused face, neither could she.

Yet, the pause is short. The girl in front of you has no intention to quit what she’s begun.

“So you’re telling me that if I were to kiss you,” she starts, shifting your attention back to her with a shock. “You’d push me away?”

Her eyes flitted on your face, every inch of it, from your eyes to your lips.

“Yes.” firmly, you answer. “And I swear to God, if you seriously try to I’m gonna scream.”

Ellie’s lips curled up.

“Can’t scream if your mouth’s covered.”  

Them being the last thing you saw before the black of your closed eyelids.

Your complaints were muffled, your body tugged into her, by her brisk hands holding you where you most liked: your sensitive hips. All too familiar things that made you lose every drop of dignity with such simplicity it wasn’t fair.

She didn’t even feel your palms trying to push her away, your pathetic attempts to reject what you, deep down, most yearned for.

And when you ultimately give in, because your weak self does, your back is pushed against the fridge, a little too roughly, your thigh being lifted up against her own, sneaking her knee between your legs. Pressing right under your sweet spot.

“El,” the name slips from your tongue like a moan, a whiny please for her to do whatever with your body.

You feel her press her knee harder onto you, grinning proudly on your lips. “Mmh?” she hums into your mouth, covering your skin with shivers.

“Stop.”

What was supposed to come out as a strict order, instead sounded more like an insipid suggestion. One last endeavouring, before wholly giving yourself away to someone who left you for developing feelings for another woman.

How goddamn low was your self worth.

“Just for tonight. Tomorrow you can go back hating me.”  

Such bittersweet words were a knife in the heart of a poor soul like yours. Never have you ever felt so torn apart, so small and helpless.

Ellie’s thumbs draw circles on your waist, her lips pecking the corner of your mouth, your jaw, below your ear. Her touch is inebriating, it drugged you without any effort.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing hard.

“Remember how good it felt?” her hot breath tickles your ear. Your fingers dig into her nape, your chest rising and falling quicker.

“I can still do it, y’know?” her tone lowers dangerously, vibrating beneath your flesh, shaking your senses alive. “Make you see God.”

If Eve’s snake had a voice, it would’ve been Ellie Williams’.

“And I still have those photos.” slowly, her fingers travel down, her teeth nibbling your lobe. “Wanna know what I do with ‘em every night?”

At that, your heart halts. “Do you really wanna have this conversation here?” you inhale sharply.

“It’s not a conversation, it’s just me trying to get permission to take off your panties.” she chuckles at your red face. “But you’re right, we should go at my place.”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, okay.” her green eyes roll.

“You’re a jerk!” you exclaim.

“And you’re wet.” El’s hand slides down into her pocket, fishing for something. A second later, her keys are whirling around her finger. “So? What do you wanna do, miss?”

A silent gulp.

But you’ll have all the time in the world to regret your poor choices later.

،،̲  Time skip.

The two of you left the event without explanations, nor goodbyes, aware it would only cause unwanted questions and glances from the guests and hosts— thing you’d rather avoid.

Like two thieves in the night, you quietly walked your way to Ellie’s house. It wasn’t far from Tommy’s, yet the five minutes it took to actually get there were filled with avoidant stares and awkward silence.

You felt lightheaded, excitement mixed with shame, precocious remorse. It made you numb, watching and listening the keys rolling into the lock.

Then you see her move aside.

You lift your eyes at her.

“Been awhile since you’ve been here. Go first.”

The sentence hit you with a wave of sourness, that you swallowed down. There was nothing to comment, or add.

You went in under her green peepers. The second your feet step into the place, each one of your sense is shaken by an overwhelming nostalgia.

The smell of old furniture and paint. The sight of her mini studio, where she kept her cameras, lights. Her living room, with the TV and console.

It kills you and brings back to life at the same time.

The memories. Oh, the memories.

“Missed it?” her voice speaks behind you, as she closes the door. Without waiting for you to reply, she adds. “’Cause I did.”

As you turn, her frame walks up to you, swiftly cupping your face.

She steals a kiss, two kisses.

You let yourself be touched, lulled toward her bedroom. Her veiny hands travel on every inch of your back, finally zipping the dress down then sliding it off of your body. Not wasting time on your bra too.

A pleased sigh leaves your lips, feeling her mouth printing wet hickeys on your neck, her thumbs circling around your bare nipples.

Her touch is strangely gentle, it’s not something she ever got you used to. She takes her time, slowly and gently, a sort of foreplay for you to actually get desperate for it.

Your back hits the mattress, as she makes her way between your legs, her hands teasing your skin until you’re filled with goosebumps. Her middle and index fingers go to tease your sweet spot, going slightly faster then stopping.

It goes on until your panties are a soaking mess, then she does you the solid of taking them off and shoving her mouth on it.

Your swollen clit pulsates into her mouth, her tongue working its way up and down, then sucking in. It feels like heaven, you struggle not to make a sound, as you’re already panting and sweating— A mess, arching your back to pull yourself further into her, gasping at her slick movements.

But all she wants is for you to let that sound out.

“C’mon.” she growls, hot breath tickling your cunt, before she slides two fingers in you, going back to stimulate you with her good tongue. Your pussy is dripping all over, sloppy as she goes in and out, fastening her pace to spit that orgasm out of you.

And, finally, your voice starts speaking within your throat, your chest is rising and falling at an unsteady rate, nearing climax. Another thrust, curling her slim fingers to your sweet spot, and your jaw drops, letting the pleasure leave your mouth, uncontrolled, spontaneous.

“Mmh,” Ellie’s thighs rub together, the sound making her bite her lower lip arousingly.

“First orgasm of the night, very well. You won’t leave this house until you have at least 4 more.”

Your sweaty self looks down at El’s face between your naked thighs, her face a mere promise of what’s gonna await you for the next hours.

“The night’s still young. I told you I could still make you see God.”

TLOU NAVIGATION.⠀ ⠀⠀TLOU PROMPTS LIST.⠀ ⠀⠀MASTERLIST.⠀ ⠀⠀

©𝓗 2025 | do not repost, plagiarize, feed to AI any of my works.

[solariex]

im forever going to blame red blog avm cursing us everytime something happens to us at this point /j

[tizeline]

TSAU Season 1 Finale - Part 1

It's about damn time I go over the TSAU's version of the remaining season 1 finale, as well as episode 1 of season 2, so HERE WE ARE! I am too lazy to adapt the entire thing into a proper comic, especially considering several plot points remain rather unchanged from canon, so we're doing whatever this format is instead.

(You should read Cell Talk and Gearing Up before this if you haven't already)

But a quick recap, the Gearing Up comic ended with Draxum in the Dark Armour going up to the surface with Mikey to start with the whole conquering humanity thing. Raph and Leo have offically joined Team Good Guys and they, alongside Donnie, Splinter, April, Shelldon and Mayhem went after Draxum to stop his evil plans.

When they make surface, Draxum and Mikey have already started their rampage and are just kinda wrecking the baseball stadium. The Foot are also at the stadium, clearly still expecting The Shredder to show up or something. Team Good Guys (yes that's their name now) figure it's probably good to try to get whatever info about the Dark Armour they can so April and Mayhem teleport to where The Foot are to try to gather some intel that might help them in the fight against Draxum.

Meanwhile, the others start fighting Draxum and Mikey. Draxum is low-key kinda baffled that Raph just straight up switched teams lmao. Leo is one thing, but Raph has always been so loyal and responsible so it's real suprising that he's completely disobeying orders. None of the Draxum family members are really enthusiastic about fighting each other (except maybe Mikey he's kinda pissed at this point) but they engage in battle anyway. Donnie, Shelldon and Splinter are less hesitant about kicking Draxum's ass and don't really hold their punches lmao. Despite that they're kinda struggling considering both Drax and Mikey are so strong, but that's when April and Mayhem teleport back with that useful intel!

What April learned from her intel-gathering is that The Foot think there is some kind of flaw with the armour, like in canon, you know the deal. What differs from canon is exactly how that flaw occured. Turns out that Donnie when he was younger got a little bit carried away with giving Shelldon cool powerful weapons and Shelldon enced up accidentally shooting up the teapot to smithereens, oopsie! Donnie managed to reassembe it before Splinter saw, but with one of the pieces having gone missing he had to sacrifice his Atomic Lass figurine to plug up the final hole (he's still upset about that to this day btw). BUT POINT IS, like in canon this means that the armour has a obvious weakpoint and if they hit that it might be enough to knock Draxum out of the armour!

You know what happens next, they resume the fighting with this new strategy in mind and eventually they manage to get a lucky hit in and as predicted knocking out the Atomic Lass toy causes Draxum to get knocked out as well. Except YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS and you know it's not quite that easy. Lo and behold, the Atomic Lass figurine was the last thing keeping The Shredder from being resurrected, so now that it's gone? Yeah, the Dark Armour is finally completed, it slurps Draxum's life-force or whatever and then spits him out.

The Shredder is back.

... Except not entirely of course, like in canon he's acting like a wild animal attacking anything that moves, but regardless it's still a new threat they have to deal with. With Draxum being so hurt, Leo makes the decision to portal him back home, and to also send Mikey with him. Both because Draxum probably needs someone to look after him and also Leo doesn't really wanna deal with Mikey's attitude at the moment with everything else going on lmao.

From here on out the battle against Shredder begins. This too goes mostly the same way as in canon, Shredder kinda kicks all of their asses before suddenly teleporting away, and then that song and dance repeats a couple of times before Team Good Guys figure they need a better strategy. Splinter brings up how Big Mama would probably have a way to subdue Shredder, only problem is that it's BIG MAMA and he does NOT wanna go anywhere close to her. In canon Leo brought Splinter with him to BM anyway, but in the AU he kinda respects Splinter, or rather Lou Jitsu, too much to force him to come along. Instead Leo decides he and Raph will go to BM for help, while the others keep Shredder from completely wrecking New York.

The rest of the finale continues in Part 2!

[celeste-clearwater-06]

The Kitchen Window (pt. 4)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (everything finally clicks into place when you're invited over to Vern's place. some new friends mean new experiences)

warnings - swearing

word count - 4.7k (I told y'allll)

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE - one - two - three

You’ve been brooding the past couple of days. Life has been sucker punching you in the gut, one insane, unthinkable blow at a time.

Work hours are getting ridiculously longer, April O’Neil hasn’t texted you back since the night you spilled all of your secrets. And you haven’t seen or heard Raphael around. Not that important, but it still contributes to the pile of miserable shit you’re handling. Thankfully, Vannie seems to be filling that lonely space in your flat. She’s a sweet relief to see at the end of each night when you get back from work, purring and content. You hadn’t realized how nice it was to come home to someone that’s so pleased to see you. She’s helping you cope, even if just a little. A cat tree now sits in the far corner of your living room so she’s not climbing all over the counters and scratching at your sofa. Though simple, it adds a new, homey addition to the space.

This night off is uneventful. Vannie sits in your lap, fast sleep, while you mindlessly scroll on your phone and sip on a glass of fruit juice that’s been sitting in your fridge for just a little too long. Hometown highschool friends with their engagement rings and college graduation posts. Not something that you particularly yearned for, but it still hurt a little. It was probably time to pick up a damn hobby. Vern texts you. What a surprise.

[Hey kiddo]

He hasn’t called you that in a long time. It makes your throat tighten up.

[what up big man]

It takes him a second to type out another text.

[I know we haven’t seen each other much. Figured you might wanna come see my apartment? it’s nice]

An invite to your older brother’s fancy new place is the last thing you’d expected in the form of a late night message.

[tonight?]

[tommorow]

[hell yeah]

Finally, a small start to getting better. Vannie stretches in your lap and you stroke her fur.

The subway ride uptown is weird. You forget that there’s literal trains running underground, after walking to and from work for so long. It would be more exciting, if not for being sandwiched between two total strangers and the silence of people kind of just looking around. The screech of wheels on the tracks breaks it every once in a while. You’re also not a fan of the shoving and pushing of total strangers through the way-too-small sliding doors when you reach your destination, almost tripping at least twice. Rude.

At the very least, Vern’s apartment complex was just two blocks away from the subway exit. You knew the upper parts of the city were nicer, but it doesn’t really hit until you’re walking on the wide sidewalks and passing restaurants and window shops that put your cafe to shame. Even the early afternoon atmosphere just seems less heavy. There’s more light. You catch just a few more passing smiles than you usually would, up the steps into the main building, where you have to press a button and announce you’re a visitor to your older brother.

The elevator takes you to the 11th floor of the nicest complex you’ve ever been in (not that you’d been in many anyhow).

The whole way here, you've been excited to see Vern, practically bouncing with every step all the way up to his door. But now your fist freezes right above the place where you’re about to knock. Something was so off about this. You rap your knuckles on the wood anyway.

Someone opens the door, after a few shuffling footsteps, and it’s not Vern. Your heart drops.

“April?” A voice crack slips its way through your dry throat.

Oh my god. She’s told him everything.

She told your older brother all of your insane ramblings, and now she’s greeting you with a friendly smile like it’s nothing. So this is what the invitation was all about. The both of them were probably waiting inside with a psychologist or a one way ticket to a padded room. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Oh hey!” April is warm with her greeting, but it does nothing to shake the spirit of your utter confusion. To add to it all, Vern’s head peeks over hers with a weak wave of his hand and a sheepish expression.

“Hey kiddo.”

You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between them. The reporter still holds that confident, close-mouthed smile, while your older brother is struggling to keep it together.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” it’s more of a question than a statement, “Are we having a little get together or something?”

Vern tries to speak, but April cuts him off.

“Yeah we figured it’d be good to talk here!”

You can’t protest when she grabs your arm and all but drags you through the doorway and slams it shut, leaving you in the entryway of a lavish, modern, way-too-white apartment. It’s hard to process anything going on. The scenery, Vern’s guilt ridden eyes and the millions of thoughts firing in your brain are all increasingly overwhelming. You're starting to get a headache.

“L-Look, April, about the other night-“

“You don’t have to explain anything.” She pulls you again, this time in the middle of taking your shoes off and past the coat rack. You catch your brother's eye and he looks nearly as lost as you feel. April continues.

“It’s about time we talked about this anyway.”

That makes you nervous. You’re being led into a nice kitchen, Vern at your heels and watching helplessly.

“We don‘t have to!” You exclaim and yank your wrist from her determined hold, “I was just-just tired! I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep, I know I sounded like a total maniac-“

She is completely uninterested in hearing your case, instead rolling her eyes and taking hold of your arm once again.

“We can just forget this whole thing! The loneliness has been getting to me, it’s really…not…”

When you step past the wall of the kitchen you trail off, dumbfounded to silence. All and any rational thought has fled.

Raphael, your savior, the giant fucking turtle, is standing, cross-armed, and a little nervous looking, next to three others that look eerily similar in their stature and green scales, though they all wear vastly different expressions that give away their thoughts. They’re all decked in various scraps of gear and oversized clothing, and like the one in red, have different colored bandanas over their eyes.

You look and feel like a total moron. Just standing there, mouth agape, only wearing one shoe and eyes flicking between the quartet of reptiles and your brother, who’s pinching his temple between two fingers in distress. The shortest of the four offers an over exaggerated smile and wave, before being kicked in the back of the leg, by another in a blue mask. He looks immensely annoyed. You have no idea what to say and when you open your mouth to speak, a flustered gasp squeezes its way from the back of your throat.

“I told you guys this was a shit idea,” Vern says. The tallest turtle shifts his weight from one large foot to another. It’s so quiet, so awkward, and yet you’re so discombobulated, your head starts to spin and you lean against the wall for support. You knew there was more than one night assailant. But four? And all nearly the same size and appearance? This was beyond absurd.

“Okay,” your voice is quiet, but it immediately captures the attention of everyone that’s standing in the room, “Can someone, genuinely, please tell me what the fuck is happening right now.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you right away.” April speaks up from behind you. You turn to see her apologetic eyes. Your silence prompts her to continue an explanation.

“These are my friends.” She sounds like trying to tame some wild animal, and her arm sweeps out to gesture towards the four, “I just wanted to see, you know… if it was really just ‘some guy’ that stopped whoever was grabbing you.”

Guess she was right. You rotate once again at Vern who is trying to avoid eye contact.

“You knew?!”

Everyone jumps at the sudden escalation in your shocked question.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!”

You scoff.

“What, am I supposed to just tell you I’m acquainted with four, crime fighting, ninja turtles?! I’d sound batshit crazy!”

It was only fair that he thought that way. Suddenly, your distant, uninvolved brother was in your exact shoes, and your shoulders slump downwards in exasperation.

“So would I, Vern! I knew- I knew-, I wasn’t insane, but this whole situation has been eating at me for fucking weeks!”

If not for the absolute shock running through you, you would have laughed at the way April and the vigilantes just stand there and watch your argument like it’s reality TV, turning their heads each time one of you speaks up.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? You should be glad we're telling you now!”

You throw your hands in the air and roll your eyes, once again rendered speechless.

A different voice pulls you from the confrontation. It’s the one in blue, now standing a little nearer to you. He’s massive, just like the others, even more now up close. You’re still not used to them talking in perfect, clear English. Or, really, at all.

“Sorry we had to meet this way.” His voice is deep, mature, and assertive. Surely the head honcho of the group. He’s smiling like it’s a peace offering, lopsided and gentle.

“I-I don’t-“ You search for the right response, but he does the talking for you and offers a calloused, three fingered hand.

“Leonardo.”

A long pause. Then an overtaxed sigh. You accept his introduction and awkwardly take it. You’re literally shaking a talking turtle's hand.

“I guess you already know my name.”

“We sure do, angel!” Leonardo is being shoved suddenly, quickly replaced with the energetic, shortest of the party. His bandanna is orange, and he’s puffing out his chest with confidence that out’s Vern’s ego to sorry shame. It immediately puts a curious smile on your face.

“I’m Michealangelo, but all the ladies call me Mikey.”

He grabs your hand delicately and places a cool kiss to the back of it while he bows toward the floor. You can’t do anything but awkwardly chuckle and watch as the others groan and cover their faces in embarrassment. This guy was pretty funny.

“Save some for the rest of us, Mike.”

You look to the tallest, who’s pushing the thick-lensed, tortoise print glasses up his nose. He opts to wave his hand from where he’s standing, seeming to sense the already overwhelming lack of personal space you have.

“Donatello.” It’s the voice you overheard on the radio last week, that accidentally gave away Raphael’s name.

Oh. OH. It finally clicks in your brain. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello. Raphael.

“Renaissance artists, huh?”

April meets your face with a kind of look that reads, ‘now you get it’.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Mikey kisses his flexed bicep, “Works of art.”

You laugh.

“I named my cat after Van Gogh.”

Raphael, still standing back from the group, lifts his head and meets your eyes at the mention of her. He looks away again, but a little smirk breaks as he rolls a toothpick off his tongue and in between his teeth.

The sort of shared interest seems to break a little bit of the tension, and the other three smile.

”Damn, Raph,” Mikey grins over at the ray of sunshine, “Not even gonna come say hi to your girlfriend?”

Your face flushes lightly. It’s clearly just a little jab to get under his skin, but you’re caught slightly off guard. Thankfully nobody seems to notice.

The smile’s gone, replaced with a huff of his nostril and a flick to Mikey’s head when Raphael walks over to finally introduce himself.

“Hey.”

You realize, this is the first time you’re standing in front of him without a window in the way. He’s still impossibly large. But you’re just so close. It feels almost foreign, witnessing the broad shoulders and tough plastron that pairs with those intense, forest colored eyes.

“Nice to meet you. Again.” Is all you can say, through a warm smile.

He snuffs, a sort of amused laugh, that makes you smile widely.

“Yeah. Sorry this got turned into such a big ordeal.”

“I don’t mind. I’m glad I got to put a name to the face.”

You two kind of just stare at each other in silence. Mikey doesn’t let it draw on for long.

“You need to let me see this cat!”

“Oh, of course!” You don’t realize how warm your face is until you’re grabbing your phone from your pocket.

April and Vern are standing near each other again, now a little more relaxed seeing you warm up and pull up a photo of Vannie from your camera roll while the four look over your shoulder. Mikey coos at a video of her playing with the strings of your hoodie.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

So maybe it wasn’t ideal, the execution of their plan. Maybe you felt a little betrayed by your brother and his friend.

But.

You’ve made four new friends. And, as odd as they come (and intimidating as they look), they seem to like the way you welcome into your life.

The weeks flying by after you meet the four brothers have gone so much better than before. You’re getting sleep, still working your job up at the cafe, you’ve got Vannie. And that late-night sound of the manhole sliding against asphalt in the back alleyway begins once again. Now when you awake early in the morning to its noise, you just smile and snuggle further into your covers, with the reassurance that there are no scary monsters or felons that stalk in the night. Just four city-protecting vigilantes doing what they do best.

On the weekends, you stay up late to their frequent visits to your kitchen window. They usually swing by for a quick chat or check in on you. Most of the time it’s Mikey or Raphael. Or both. Sometimes the younger will tag along just to pay Vannie a visit while you and Raphael make playful small talk. Donnie will come through your area every once in a while, and though he doesn’t talk as much as his other brothers, it’s a refreshment to just listen to him talk about the state of the city and whatever new nerdy experiment he’s got going on. Leo rarely visits, unless you happen to catch them all leaving the sewer exit and he sticks around to hear you tell a crazy story about a rude customer or stupid order you’ve had to deal with during the week.

It’s so refreshing to have friends to talk to, even if it’s not every day.

Along with these pop ins, Raph’s been leaving things in your window on some of the nights you’re sleeping or coming home extra late from long shifts. Sometimes it’s a cool rock he found (who knows where), other times, an old abandoned action figure, or more recycled toys for Vannie. Your collection had accumulated on the dresser in your bedroom. It’s sweet.

Sometimes, you return the favor and leave him a cold drink you made at work by the open window before you flop into bed, exhausted. Summer’s rolling around the corner and even the nights get hot, especially considering moving around the city with all of his (badass) parkour. On occasion, you’ll make some for his siblings too, but the weird looks from your coworkers, leaving the shift with a cup holder full of unpaid drinks, limits this to every once in a while.

You don’t know it, but Raph feels so spoiled by your gifts to him.

Life is going so great, and you can feel the stone wall of his gruff exterior start to break when he chuckles at one of your jokes. Your heart warms when you think about him at work. As much as you enjoy seeing all of the brothers, it’s the red-banded one you’re drawn closest to. He makes you feel kind of giddy. It’s hard to put a label on it, but you’d love to call him your best friend, if not, one of your only.

It’s sticky and humid outside, on a late Saturday night in June. You’ve been watching a movie in your bedroom, with Vannie nestled beside you, sleeping, a bowl of microwave popcorn in your lap. The tv’s loud enough to almost drown out a little noise that comes from the kitchen. You barely hear it, but it catches your attention and you quickly snatch the remote to pause the movie.

Tap, tap, tap.

You smile. The shifting of the bed wakes up your cat, and she watches as you throw off the duvet and walk from the bedroom into the hall, bowl of popcorn in hand. When you pass the hall door, Raphael is grinning at you through the window and you fast-walk over to unlock the latch and slide it open. Humid air immediately flows in with his smug smile. Now you remember why the window was closed.

“Hey stranger.”

He snorts, and leans to rest his forearms on the sill.

“Whaddup, short stack?”

You shrug, and then offer out the bowl for him to take from. Raph grabs a handful and stuffs it in his mouth.

“What brings you to this part of town at…” you look at the stove clock, “3 in the morning.”

Raph talks while he’s chewing. A usually crude performance that you find kind of endearing.

“Slow night,” He swallows, and there’s a crumb on the corner of his lip, “Not a lot goin on for us out here.”

You nod, trying not to laugh at the leftovers that he clearly doesn’t notice. He quirks a brow.

“What?”

You reach out to try and swipe at it with your thumb but Raph flinches backwards.

“Come here!” Your laugh is soft, “You got something.”

He brings his face a little close and you wipe it away. It’s the first time you’ve touched his face, you realize. It’s cool, but there’s softer skin on his snout compared to the rest of his leathery scales. You try not to linger on it too much. He sees it on your thumb and playfully rolls his eyes. You can’t tell for sure, but there seems to be a little warmth creeping on his face. There’s tension.

“Yeah, I was savin’ that for later.”

Raph swats your hand away and you laugh.

“That hungry, huh?”

He nods.

“Actually yeah. We got leftover pizza at the lair, but I’m not supposed to be goin back for a while.”

“Want me to make you something real quick?”

He seems a little surprised at your offer (not like he’s gonna turn it down). You hear his stomach grumble.

“Can’t say no to that. How long you think it’ll take ya?”

“Probably a little bit. Do you wanna come inside?”

The invitation leaves your lips before you can think. None of the brothers had actually come inside your apartment before. It takes everything in you not to cringe and brace for the impact of his rejection while Raph looks at you with a perplexed glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” his answer sounds nonchalant, but his grin tells you a whole different story, “Dunno how you expect me to squeeze through this teeny little window though.”

You ponder for a second.

“You think you can sneak up to my front door?”

Raph shrugs.

“I can try. If I die, tell everyone it was your fault.”

You laugh.

“‘Vigilante turtle is found dead trying to get some of the worlds best chicken and rice.’ I can read the headlines now.”

He just shakes his head with a smirk, and then jumps off the fire escape.

“See you in a few.”

You shut the window, and in 45 seconds, there’s a knock at the door, and you rush over to open it and quickly let him in. Raph has to duck just a little to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

“Welcome to my crib.” It’s cringe, the way you lightly punch his shoulder.

“God, you sound like Mikey.”

“That was the goal.”

The turtle rolls his eyes, and then looks around the living room with a little smile.

“Gotta get you some decorations in here.”

You sigh.

“I know. I’m not here all the time. Plus I think Vannie would just knock shit over.”

Meow

“Speaking of.”

She’s already making her way over to him from your room, and rubs herself against his muscular calf.

“Hey kitty.”

Raph bends to give her head a little scritch, not following you over to the kitchenette where you’re pulling thawed chicken from the refrigerator.

“I think she missed you.”

He doesn’t respond, just looks up at your turned body, as you fill a small pot with water from the kitchen tap.

“You said chicken and rice, huh?”

You nod, looking back at him. He’s walking over to you, sandaled feet scuffing on the carpet.

“Small-apartment-owner staple. Plus it’s easy.”

He’s standing behind you now, arms crossed, and curiously watching as you turn on two of the stove burners.

“Probably not for me. I burn just about everythin I touch.”

You think quietly to yourself, the irony of such a hothead setting a bowl of cereal up in flames.

“This is super simple. I’ll teach you if you want.”

“Oh so you’re a barista and a culinary teacher

“This is one of the only things I can cook. You wanna cut up some of that for me?”

Raph sees you gesture to the unopened package of chicken, while you’re pouring a cup of white rice into the pot of slowly boiling water. Cutting, he could do.

The two of you work silently in the small space, ducking over and under each other to grab utensils and spices. You instruct him here and there, but still leave room for the comfortable quiet that’s settled in the air.

After about 15 minutes, you pour a bowl for each of you (his is filled just a little bit more than yours) and invite him to sit on the couch to eat together. The first bite he takes has his eyes rolling in the back of his head with a guttural groan. You flush from behind your fork.

“Good?”

“Fuckin good.”

Your giddy smile says it all. It’s flattering the way he eats without saying a word. You’re so at ease, sitting criss-cross on the couch next to this beast of a guy, both enjoying the comforts of a meal your mom had taught you how to make long before you had left for New-York. This felt so domestic. When he's done, Raph wipes his mouth and sets the bowl down on your coffee table, fork clattering against the ceramic, and leans back on the couch with a stretch. You’re only halfway through your dinner.

“That’s some Gordon Ramsey shit.”

You scoff.

“Hardly. But thank you.”

“Nah, thank you. I’m gettin tired of all that takeout Mike brings home.”

His eyes are closed, hands resting on his plastron, and feet kicked up onto the coffee table. Beautiful, you think, and you’re surprising yourself again with the thought. You take advantage of his relaxed eyes, eyes trailing up the long, muscular extent of his body. A weird, warm sensation trills its way up your body, when his broad chest moves with a heavy breath, stopping it’s way at your lungs to give them gentle squeeze. It slows your chewing. When Raph’s eyes open, you quickly focus your attention back down to the food that you’ve suddenly become full from. He says something that you have to ask him to repeat.

“Show me around?”

“O-oh. Yeah sure.” You stand fast, and clumsy, bowl taking its place next to his. You awkwardly adjust your shirt and wait for him to stand from the couch. He follows you down the short hallway.

“Here’s the bathroom,” you point to your right, and wait for him to kind of peek his head around for a moment, “And here’s my room.”

The movie on the tv is still paused, but it lights the room with a warm glow, along with the dim led lights strung up in the corners of the small space. A simple twin-sized bed in the middle, in between a matching bedside table and dresser. Raph steps into the room past you. It looks so cramped with his massive body in here. You can’t stop his eye catching the little collection of trinkets, lined up in a neat row, on top of the black dresser. His grin is small.

“Was wonderin if you kept all this shit,” He chuckles, picking up one of the little superhero action figures and admiring it. His whole hand engulfs the toy, which is covered in scuffs and scratch marks from years of play.

“Can’t see a reason why I wouldn’t.”

Raphael’s response is a relaxed smile when he looks over his shoulder at you. Your heart skips. He turns again and gently sets the figure in its place.

“This your family?”

He’s referring to the framed picture of you, Vern and your parents behind the line of his little gifts.

“Yeah. My mom and her husband.”

Raph lifts it and you walk over to look at it with him. It’s from a few years prior.

“Not your dad?”

You shake you head.

“Vern’s dad. But we’re close.”

The four of you are in mid laugh, in the selfie that you take with an outstretched arm. You remember taking it on a vacation in the mountains.

“Vern’s always got that stupid look on his face.”

You snicker, shaking your head.

“Yeah. Idiot.”

Once again, Raph places it in its exact spot. It makes your knees shake a little when he’s looking down at you, just centimeters away from your body. To ignore and prevent anymore weird and confusing tension to build, you flop backwards on your bed with a sigh.

“Whatcha bitchin about now?”

You smile up at the ceiling.

“Just don’t wanna go back to work.”

He sits on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah. Sounds boring.”

You nod, even though he’s not looking at you. You can feel the warmth of his leg bouncing next to yours.

“Whatcha thinking about, Red?”

“Nothin’ important.”

You tilt your head down just a little to see his massive shell facing you. He’s hunched over. You kick him lightly, and he knocks your leg away gently.

“Come onnn, talk to meeee.”

You go to kick him again, but Raph grabs your leg and tickles the back of it. You squeal.

“STOP,” the fight is useless, kicking and scrambling to get away, with an ornery grin on his face, “I’m gonna piss myself!”

With that he backs off, and you’re heaving through laughter.

“Mean.”

“Annoying.”

His smile is wiped away with another thought crossing.

“What time is it?” You both glance at the digital clock on the bedside table behind you.

“Shit. Almost five.”

“Yeah. I better get goin. Gettin’ late- or, I guess early.”

You follow him up to the front door, walking past Vannie who’s playing with that first cat toy he left on your window.

Raph reaches for the door handle, but stops.

“Thanks for lettin me in. And for the food.”

You smile softly.

“Anytime, Raph.”

You didn’t mean to stop so close to him, but here you are, smile slowly fading while you look up at his face. His eyes have got you in a strong hold, and he mirrors your expression, unintentionally. His nostrils flare with a breath outwards.

You want to kiss him, all of a sudden.

Kiss Raphael right on the mouth and not have a care about it.

But you don’t. He grins.

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

The click of the closing door is your cue to slap your hands over your face in exasperation.

He’s left you with dirty dishes, an empty space, and flustered, red cheeks. You smile behind your hands hearing the scrape of Raphael heading back down into the sewers

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

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[iscdisc]

I made this drawing out of spite, I gotta be honest, because finding out about this deleted 2012 scene from Season 5 today infuriated me- LMAO

To think that we could have gotten this in the episode, "Heart of Evil" but we didn't dude. Probably because it makes Donnie look bad, which makes sense because he has weird behaviors all the time around April- So yeah, he looks bad. 💀 Lmao

I feel like they didn't include this scene because they wanted to keep the illusion that they had with Donnie and April in Season 5- Where 2012 Apritello is "so much better now" and their dynamic is "completely fixed" and there's nothing to discuss because "look at them now". But that's also why I kind of love this clip, because look at April's expressions here and notice the tone in her voice?? She's very unhappy and this is very reminiscent of their dynamic in Seasons 2 + 3 to me.

This is speculation on my part, but if the show was trying to imply that they're a couple now at this point with Season 5 (Considering the, "When World's Collide" special / Which technically came after, "Heart of Evil but I'm still counting it- / and the Ice Cream Kitty Music Video that in my opinion got ruined because they included that kiss between them at the end- 💀 Lmao), This would have totally ruined that image. Because if they were together, why would April be so annoyed that her supposed boyfriend (Or almost boyfriend-) put the the team name, "Kick Butt Babes" on her instead of, "Team More Awesome"? 🤨

Also I didn't have enough energy to draw this part, so I'm just going to say it here instead, but this is also gross because of Leo too. Mikey said Team Brainiac was adamant about the name, which includes Leo. I mean, notice how quickly Leo decided to change the subject in the deleted scene- 💀 Lmao

(Here's the clip for anyone who hasn't seen it ! Credit to 8 Bit Paul on YouTube !)

[earthtooz]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 9 - what's next in love ?

masterlist / ko-fi

my last reading : who likes you ? who wants to get closer to you ?

This is a general reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

DISCLAIMER : When I talk about love, I include every single forms of love (eros, philia, storge, self-love...). If you are solely looking for romantic love between two people, pass on this reading for this time.

ANNOUNCEMENT : I will soon share with you something I have been working on... The month of April will be full of surprises so stay on the look out for updates... Little hint : it has to do tarot services hehe

Pile 1

The Emperor, The Fool, Page of Cups (back of the deck - Knight of Wands )

Your pile is represented by the King of Wands.

Right off the bat, I am picking up on a young, wild and free and really flirty energy here. You might be in a talking stage with someone. There might be a lot of banter between you guys. A lot of snarky back and forth comments. If you are not talking to anyone or one specific person at the time, you are just doing you, having fun and trying to get the best out of life. I am just getting a really free spirited energy here. You might be in a phase in your love life where you’re more open and you let things flow. I don’t think you are actively looking to settle right now. You just enjoy lifing and the company of others, and if it means having a flirty conversation with the bartender or waiter, then you are going to do so without thinking much of it.

I shuffled your tarot cards after writing the paragraph above and OH BOY was I picking up on the right energies. I audibly screamed when your cards fell as it is probably the first time in my readings that my spirit guides listened to me and gave the exact amount of cards I asked for all at once (my spirit guides are usually little pranksters they love to test my patience i am sure they are geminis lmaoo). You got the Emperor, followed by The Fool and then the Page of Cups with the back of the deck being the Knight of Wands… TALK ABOUT FIERY ARIES ENERGY BABY ! Your pile is giving me so much energy right now this is insane. 

What I see for you next in love is just the continuation of this wild and free energy. Continue to cater to your needs, to be your own boss, to be open to going out. Hang out with friends, be a little cocky and savage, a little wild. Do not hesitate to dress up, to make yourself look good. You are entering a period of your life where you are extremely attractive and magnetic. There might in fact be a lot of eyes on you, Pile 1. And, let’s be real for a second : you are probably aware of all of them but none of them really match your vibe, and they know it too so they never really approach you. 

But, what I am seeing, in a few months from now, probably 8 to 10 months, a specific person will totally match your vibes (and your freak hehe). They will come at you slowly but surely. You guys will still be in this fiery energy, not really seeking love actively. They will come and you might not see a potential right off the bat. They might find you attractive and like your vibes the moment they meet you, but I don’t think they will necessarily see you as a potential lover either. It will only be “by accident” that you guys will build a connection. I see a really hot couple, looking good and smelling good, posting on social media, traveling and sipping on some margarita on a terrace in Paris. 

Now,.. I will be honest, I do not think this relationship will be a long term one. It might last 7 months to 1 year, maybe even 1 year and a half maximum. However, not being long term does not mean it will be a waste of time. I think you will enjoy yourself and not regret one bit when the relationship will end. Your breakup will most likely be on really good terms, and most of you will stay friends after separating. 

If you are solely looking for long term relationships, you can easily pass on this one and wait more to find a better fit for you. Personally, I think this relationship could be revitalising for a lot of you who have gone through a pretty traumatic breakup / divorce that left you in pieces. It will remind you that love doesn’t have to be complicated. But then again, you have all the free will to choose whether you want this relationship or not. 

House Five - Passion, play, children, confidence and creativity, House Nine - Spiritual growth, Mercury - Think, learn, network and communication, Fire - Confidence, optimism, passion and bravery. 

Again, the flirty and fiery energy is coming back. Some of you could benefit from being on dating apps, even if it is just to meet friends. Right now, the best thing you can do is focus on yourself while spending time with your friends and just nurturing your friendships. 

I would advise you to go to (gay) clubs, raves, any social event where you could bring friends with you and have a blast, especially events surrounding music, such as concerts and festivals, all of that ! You could meet really great people there, friends you will have a bunch of fun with and with whom you will share great laughs together.

What’s next in love is a lighthearted energy and the realization that life doesn’t necessarily have to be heavy all the time. Let yourself breathe freely, add some spice and adventure to your life, talk to strangers and maybe flirt a little (a lil ego boost in this period won’t hurt you but sill, don’t fall in vanity and don’t be desperate for external validation)

Cherishing yourself and loving yourself is your primary concern for this period and this is what attracts the partner you need now, not the one you want. 

Life is simple. Get into the moment.

The lyric “Call me beauty” from the song Girl’s Capitalism of tripleS LOVElution started playing in my head on repeat in the middle of your pile. This is the energy you should embody during this period. Don’t hesitate to check the music video as I think it might be relevant for some of you ! 

Below are the lyrics of the song in question. It is translated from Korean to English so maybe some translations can appear a bit off but I think the song holds the core message for your love life for the next few months or year.

“ (Woo) la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la, heart

La-la-la, la-la-la, la, heart

La-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la, la, heart

I'm the key to my heart, love me better

All over the screen, you're shining brightly

The endless feed is soaking my heart

Now I know happiness, you see

You can't replace it

For me to shine brightly

More than a dazzling filter capitalism‘s my charm, oh, yeah (Oh, yeah)

Reality awoke from within

Gonna cherish my dreams for a higher self

Selfish (Ba-pa-dap)

Whatever they say, my feelings come first (Ba-pa-dap)

For that to work, gotta work on my account care (Ba-pa-dap)

I am my own standard, oh, I love myself

I am beautiful

Call me bеauty) Cute is now boring

(Call me beauty) All that's prеtty is mine

(Call me beauty) Gonna love myself in the mirror

I'm beautiful, love me better

(Inner beauty) Gonna cherish my inner heart

(Inner beauty) Aesthetically confident attitude

(Inner beauty) Gonna love myself the most

I'm beautiful, love me better

My various charms

Will write my story

Gonna love all of me

Yeah, you call me beauty (Woo)

Love that for you pile 1 ! 

thank you for reading until the end pile 1 ! lots of love <3

Pile 2

Queen of Cups, The Devil, The World

Your pile is represented by the Three of Pentacles. 

There is a heavy The Star card energy here. Friendship, love in a platonic sense/ philia love might be relevant to you at this time or just in general. I think you are asked to connect more with your friends, and cherish platonic love at the moment. 

What is next for you in love are deep friendships, where you share core values and exchange about politics, spirituality and your deepest fears. But also, a reconnection with your higher self.

I am picking up on the fact that people that chose this pile are most likely part of the LGBTQ+ community. Most of you are pansexual or bi, or you just don’t really put any label on your sexuality. You love freely, and gender or race is the least of your concerns. You love someone for their soul, their wit, their self-expression, generally who they are. You just love humans and humanity in general. You see love as this boundless emotion. Love is intrinsically spiritual to you. It is a spiritual fire, but not a destructive one.. No, to you love is both cerebral and magical. This pile is really airy. A lot of you could have air dominance in your chart, aquarius or gemini placements. Mercury and Uranus as your dominant planets. You are extremely open minded and, coming in this reading, I don’t think you expect much. It is like you do not really care about the “status” of your love life. You don’t feel this need to define yourself because to you, “to define is to limit”. 

I know it is deviating quite a bit from the topic of the reading but your energy fascinates me. It feels like a cool breeze on a summer morning at the end of August. Your energy is so “egoless”. You just let things flow and don’t take anything personally. Extremely spiritual, and elevated people chose pile because it is transforming into a philosophical, poetic and spiritual rant about what love is, how you perceive love,etc… 

Maybe what is next for you in love, apart from the friendships, is you trying to define what love is to you. Where is love ? How is love ? Why is love ? Who is love ? All these questions are the driving forces of the spiritual love quest you are embarking in for the next 1 to 3 months I am getting. This time period will help you emerge as a new person once summer comes. So, what I will mention in this reading will mostly concern the months from March to late June/ early July.

The light will guide you.

What is next in love for you is a deep reconnection to your higher self. You are looking for a relationship with yourself where your ego is not the driving force. You are looking to understand what your soul craves, without all the mind games. You are moving away from all the bs that our capitalistic society is feeding us. There is no such a thing as a “black cat gf” and “golden retriever bf” and “he is this mbti type and i am this type so we are not compatible”,,.. All of that categorizes people and limits their existence and erases their true complexity as individuals : you are moving away from it. You are realizing now more than ever that love is not transactional : there are simply no mathematical formulas for it. Love flows and goes, it knows no program or magic recipe.

I am picking up half of the people here already know that. You are just deepening and strengthening your “love belief system”.

I am getting one specific bible verse →  1 Corinthians 13:4-8 : 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 

5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 

6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 

7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

This verse, or this message might be relevant for some of you. What I am just getting overall is that you are going towards a selfless, boundless and spiritual love. 

Now, I want to warn some of you who will go too deep in the “ego death” route that they could end up getting taken advantage of by evil narcissists who will feed off their light. Conserve some ego still. Unfortunately, it is a harsh world out there and sensitive souls like you need to preserve their light for only a few rare people. Unconditional love is not for everyone, remember that. 

House Four - Cultural and family roots, , Virgo - Integrity, reverence and service and House Twelve - Spirituality, transcendence, karma, sacrificial service and healing. 

What’s next in love is a period of abstinence. And not of love, but of all the dates, and the mundane and modern activities associated with love. Some of you might also be in actual abstinence , like you do not indulge in any form of intimate or sexual activities by choice. Some of you might be religious, so it is just you deepening this relationship you have with God. If you’re muslim, this is probably because we are in the month of Ramadan ( by the way, Ramadan Mubarak to all the muslims that are reading this ! May Allah SWT forgive you and may this month reconnect you with your spirituality and strengthen your relationship with Allah<3 i know it is already the end of the month but hey bear with me lol)

This spring is a time where you purge anything unnecessary and where you preserve yourself from the outside world. I think your energy mesh extremely well with the current North Node being in Pisces as well as the current Venus Retrograde. It is a time of deep reflection and spiritual enlightenment for you. 

thank you for reading until the end pile 2 ! lots of love <3

Pile 3

Your pile is represented by the Temperance and the Six of Swords. 

I feel the need to share with you by what angel both of your representative cards are ruled by : Temperance : Chauakiah, The God of Joy - Reconciliation. Regains the favour of those one has offended / Six of Swords : Anauel, The Gentle God : Perception of unity. Protects against accidents. Heals the sick.

Compared to the other piles, I felt a heavier energy here. Not necessarily in a negative sense. It was just a bit gloomier, drier and serious. 

You are most likely in a process of healing and moving on. 

So… Pile 3.. How do I put this.. While Trying to shuffle for your tarot cards, so many fell off and the energy was overall super messy. I have a strong belief that you do not really know what you want in love. After your fair share of heartbreaks and love disappointments, you’re only now realizing that you were just chasing after an idea of love, a chimera. The people you have been romantically involved with so far were all reflections of your deepest insecurities and fears. You didn’t know yourself yet you tried to figure out those people, please them, love them deeply while you couldn’t even give that energy back to yourself. I know it sounds harsh, pile 3, but you need to identify your real likes and dislikes and what you are truly looking for in a partnership. People aren’t archetypes, they aren’t limited to an MBTI type or a Venus sign. Your relationship with them isn’t limited to a specific synastry aspect or overlay. You tried to find your answers to these failed romances everywhere but within yourself. And I know damn well it sounds super corny, but it is true. Get to know the real you, not the one that got lost in what your parents expected of you, what a random astro post said your sun and moon signs are like in love, not all of that stupid stuff. 

Now, I am getting that some of you, actually a pretty large group of people here, already got past that “delusional phase” in your love life. So, for the moment, you’re more bitter, and the rant I just did is just something you wish you could’ve told the younger you/ the past you. Right now, you are trying to forgive yourself and this is amazing. I believe when I post this, Venus will be Retrograde. Use this time to reflect on your love life. I think you might attract someone, or more so someone back. Don’t jump at me yet, this person isn’t a dusty ok lol.  I think you guys were subconsciously manifesting each other this past year or 2 years I am getting. The Venus retrograde will get you guys closer but not in the 3D. It will still be in the 5D or subconsciously. Even though I didn’t put any tarot cards for you, the first two cards that fell were the 7 of Cups and the Page of cups. Then the Knight of Cups came up with the Queen of Cups and now I am seeing the 2 of Cups and the King of Cups poking out of my deck. So much cups energy. You guys have the potential to reconnect and have a really loving and deeply healing connection. Now I am getting that some of you actually don’t really know this person well or haven’t actually met them in real life. Whatever the case may be, this is a really beautiful connection that awaits you. I will be fully honest though, it might take a while to manifest 💀And when I say a while, I mean a WHILE. Like in a span of years. I know some of you guys probably sighed or rolled their eyes at their screen but either this is divine timing, either a lot of you who chose this pile are in really different stages in their journey, and some need a longer time than the others to reach this relationship. 

Honestly, pile 3, your spread is giving “ it’s all up to you”.You might have a lot of suitors, and some are genuinely good for you. Do whatever you want (frustrating answer, I know)

Be brave enough to be bad at something new.

House Two - Physical security, possessions, material values and self worth , Mars - Move forward and defend self, Saturn - Feel restricted, experience struggle, learn hard work and patience

What to get from these three oracles cards is that you have the control in your love life,  you just need to believe in yourself and your ability to attract the love you desire. It is a lot about self worth and believing that you deserve this unconditional love that you desire so much. A lot of hopeless romantics chose this pile, and you might be starting to feel your inner romantic lover boy/ lover girl dying because of these terrible traumatic experiences. This reading is here to remind you that the best thing you can do for yourself is to resist. Push through the pain, accept the pain and move on from the pain. Live it fully and let it flow, then let it go. Your pain is legitimate but don’t let it rotten your heart so much. This world needs more people like you pile 3, and no matter how hard your love life is/ was, believe in a brighter future. Learn through the experiences. It’s okay. 

sorry for your reading, pile 3, it was a bit messy and all over the place. I think that for now your energy is really neurotic and your mind might be going at 100mph and it was felt in this reading (or Am I making excuses for doing this reading while being tired lol maybe it's both honestly). Hope you could at least get some messages that put some light on your current situation. Good luck, pile 3, never lose your heart, it is one of the most precious things you have. <3

thank you for reading until the end pile 3 ! lots of love <3

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆stay blessed everyone⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

[pokespe-rainbow]

Any Tmnt Iteration x Spider-Man!Reader: Friendly Neighbor

Masterlist | Previous | Next

"I'm not lying! I'm serious! I meet [S/n] in an alley!" - exclaimed the orange claded turtle as his purple brother denied with his head

"Sure Mikey" - came Raphael's voice from the couch - "And of course Megan Fox didn't have anything better to do than chatting with you in a rooftop" - he mocked and turned his attention to his magazine

"Well, [S/n] had to go to protect the city. And that's okay but I'm gonna met them again tonight" - Mikey put his hands on his hips

"I don't know if that's safe Mikey" - came Donnie's voice - "Even if you meet the actual [S/n] I don't think you should give your trust so freely. It could be working with the Foot"

"Yoy sound just like Leo" - Mikey turned hiz gaze around

"Mikey, everytime you ended up trusting someone you ended up getting hurt" - says Raph - "What makes you believe this time will be different?

"But April said [S/n] was cool! And Leatherhead ended up being a great guy! Donnie!" - he called to his purple brother - "I thought you liked [S/n]!"

"Mostly I feel curiosity. That's all. I just wondered how their mutation go and what make that different from ours. From April's reports I'm certain Dr Connors formula is somehow similar to the mutagen effects. It certainly had a superior regeneration system, but is probably because —"

"Ugh!" - Raphael complained - "Please say that in a language I can actually understand."

Donatello gave his older brother a dirty look - "You're imposible" - he said before turning around, not finding his orange brother - "Where's Mikey?"

"Go before dying out of boredom" - Raphael locked his finger and passed a page of his magazine - "Or go to meet his imaginary friend"

"Raphael, what if Mikey is actually telling the truth and he's actually alone with a dangerous mutant?" - asked Donatello

"What do you expect me to do?" - Raphael closed his magazine, annoyed - "Try to stop him? Go after him to the end he complains of how we treat him like he was a little boy when he's a "grown men"?" - mocked with a fake imitation of Mikey's voice - "Why don't you come out after him if you worry so much? Or better? Go ask the fearless leader to get up his ass from his fortress of solitude, if he's in a good mood today?"

"You're unbelievable " - Donatello turned around and go to his lab - "I just can't with you!"

"Oh! So now you're a little pissy too! Just great! Another hermit of a brother is just what I needed!" - Raphael stand up and go to his room

In the entrance of the lair, Michelangelo flinched at Raphael slamming shut his bedroom door, breathing out a sharky breath. He tugged his skateboard before shaking his head. [S/n] was one of the good ones. They had to be.

For a moment he actually wanted to tell Leo he was going out, but he tensed, thinking that better not. Leo hasn't been in the best mood lately, so he probably wouldn't like him meeting [S/n] tonight.

Putting the skateboard on the ground, Mikey speed up away from the lair. Once no one else was left on the living room, Master Splinter come out of his chamber and gave a dissapoiting sigh. He hoped their sons would learn from their past experiences and move on before the rift between them would become to big. And he should probably talk to Michelangelo about stranger danger once he decided to come back home. His youngest son seemed to use some time alone to clear his mind.

You hanged from the building, expecting the sigh of the orange before duty decided to call [S/n] back to action, not really wanting to disappoint. You had left some poor devil hanging out in Hells Kitchen before coming here. You really expected the cops would come to get the guy down. Or he would really use a bathroom the moment the webs expired.

The sound of metal rolling against the paviment called your attention, looking down, really thanking the spider for improving your sense of sight, despite spiders having bad vision, except for the jumping spiders, species you believed was the spider that bited you. A manhole to the sewers slided and you prepared to jump in action when a familiar masked face and a tingle of acknowledgement revealed some green gummy bean.

"Mikey!" - you called, the turtle head snapping at your direction and smiling like a kid in Christmas - "Buddy, I was started to worry"

"Yeah, sorry." - Mikey apologized as he covered the manhole - "My brothers kind off didn't believed me"

"Sorry to hear that" - You say as you waited to the turtle to come up.

Despite the shell and the fame of turtles being slow, the turtle didn't had a lot of problems scaling the building and sitting near you. You could say he was more agile than most of your villains. You guys had more or less the same height, tough the turtle seemed more interested of New York's streets.

". . . . . So, do you like Jersey?" - you asked out of nowhere

"What?" - Mikey turned to see you

"Do you like Jersey?" - you asked again

"No, Jersey sucks" - answered Mikey with a confused face

"That's what I wanted to hear" - you answer - "Jersey sucks!" - you screamed, your voice being muffled by New Yorks noises. You nugged Mikey's shoulder - "Now you try, no one's gonna judge you, everyone hates Jersey"

Mikey seemed to doubt before looking at New York once again - "New Jersey sucks" - he spit

"Louder, like this" - you cleared your throat - "New Jersey SUCKS!"

Mikey give a weak laugh before standing up - "New Jersey Sucks!"

"NEW JERSEY SUCKS!"

"NEW JERSEY SUCKS!"

"YOU SUCK!" - came an angry scream from one of the buildings, you and Mikey stired out of your skin - "IT'S FUCKING 10 PM! FUCKING YONKIS!"

You gave Mikey an awkward look behind your mask - "I think we should go"

"Yeah, we should."

Mikey skated trough the rooftops as you walked near the roof eaves in tiptoes, totally child's play. He had finally seemed to relax of whatever was haunting his mind. Mikey talked about comics and video games, didn't help with the theory of him being a teenager just like you, one that had to hide in the sewer so that way the government couldn't come to cut him in little pieces. You talked about ice cream flavors and your favorite pizza toppings. You had a heated debat of putting pineapple on pizza, but ended as long you remembered they were people out there that put fish on it. It irked both of you and a new solidarity over respecting pizza came out of it.

"And that's why chocolate is the best flavor in the world" - you said casually, and of course chocolate was the best flavor, only an ignorant without taste wouldn't agree with you

"But what if they have pizza flavor?" - came Mikey's response.

"I'd say you're on thin fucking ice." - You pointed at him, at what he chuckled - "I'm serious, don't you ever dare to disrespect pizza that way"

"Okay, I won't disrespect pizza god ever again, I promise" - he raised his arms, all without looking at were he was going - "I never imaginated I'll be talking to you about ice cream"

"Why?" - you tilted your head. Was something you get to say? You were a pretty chill person! Everyone in New York should know that!

"I thought you'll be more like Leo" - said Mikey - "I mean, you guys are a lot alike, Leo's the big brother who takes care of us and you take care of everyone in New York, you both are the best kicking bad guys butts and..." - Mikey seemed to stop - "Leo always takes everything too seriously."

Ooooohhhhh. Family drama. Ouch ouch ouch. You shouldn't be hearing this. This was Mikey's Family and he shouldn't be talking this to the person he met yesterday.

"I'm pretty sure he just tries his best" - You said - "Had you tried to tell your brother how that makes you feel?"

"Always" - Mikey cross his arms - "But is always 'leader this' and 'leader that'. He's been all grumpy since that Foot Clan chick beat his ass the other day."

Foot Clan? You've heard about the Foot Clan. When you spied on Tombstone before jumping to kick his ass, he mentioned them twice. Sounded like a mix of a criminal organization and a feet cult. What was doing Mikey's brothers fighting them? They were vigilantes just like you? Except they couldn't show their faces to the world, even behind a mask. Or having a normal life.

Tonight you ended up learning more about Mikey and their. Still not knowing how they ended up as turtles or fighting a feet cult. But you couldn't ignore this. You just couldn't. God, you were so gonna get involved in this didn't you?

"[S/n], something wrong?" - Mikey's voice bribg you back to the present "If you had to go I get it"

"I'm fine Mikey " - you waved at him - "Just thinking something. We're did we stay?"

"On pizza flavor"

You exhaled from behind your mask. You're never gonna denied help to someone who needed it.

You were gonna help Mikey's family

In a way or another

Spider promise

[archie-sunshine]

Captain's Blog (July 3rd 2025)

So!! It's beennnn like a month and a half/ two months?? since I was frequently posting? and it seems like despite my constant updates, some people may be in the dark about whats going on. So heres what's been going on.

I'm gonna put this under a read more because it's a big of a doozy.

So since one very *ahem* active night in december, my back and left leg have been really giving me trouble. It wasn't so bad at first, but around march, it really began to bug me. It was this strange kind of shooting pain down my leg, something i'd never experienced before.

in april, i decided it was annoying enough to check in at a walk in clinic about it. Due to my rocky relationship with my gp, i thought it'd be best if I went there, where they told me it was likely just a muscle strain and sent me away with some extra strength naproxen.

A few weeks passed and it showed no improvement so cree and I went to the ER, where they told me it was probably just a really bad muscle strain and gave me Tylenol 3s.

And the next day, I felt just as terrible if not worse, so I went into the ER again, where they told me it was probably a pinched nerve! and they gave me some more extra strength naproxen and a pain shot.

and then I woke up in the middle of the night unable to move without excruciating pain. so! they loaded me up into an ambulance, took me to the ER, and left me writhing in agony for 6 hours before getting a doctor in to see me and tell me within a minute that i had a herniated disc in my lower back. They gave me a morphine shot, a pain shot, and an oxycodone prescription.

Luckily, the drugs they gave me helped enough to help me walk again, if only briefly. They told me that i had to lay flat on my back as much as possible, and not get up unless strictly necessary.

the soonest they could get me in to get an MRI at the hospital to confirm their suspicions was in august.

So we thought, oh! we can look for a different place to get an MRI done! We just need a requisition from my GP!

AND THEN MY WORTHLESS FUCKING GP REFUSED TO GIVE US AN MRI REQUISITION.

So I got a new GP!! Yay!! She was MUCH more helpful, prescribed me medication that worked, and got me my MRI requisition! My therapist also directed me to a personal friend of hers who worked at an MRI centre, who got us in right after we got our requisition which was super lucky!

It was confirmed to be a herniated disc, recommended to be operated on, and my doctor immediately sent off a requisition for a surgeon!! annnnd-!

then. I. waited.

It's hard to express how difficult it is to just be. stuck. in bed. just stare into my phone some more. watch something on my computer. keep your mind off how stuff is hurting, keep your mind off how long this is taking.

It took 3 weeks for them to get back to me, only to find out that the clinic my doctor had sent it to had no interest in treating me.

so, wait another week, and see if someone else can get the surgery done.

All the while, things are getting a tiny bit better, but im still depending on these meds to keep me from being in terrible pain. I'm out of bed more, but end up exhausted by the time im back in bed from how much im aching.

My saving grace at this point, and through all of this, was cree. He was there for me every step of the way, helping keep my spirits up, keeping me from being exhausted and depressed as much as he could. I can't express enough how much help he's been.

And then, just yesterday, I finally got in to see a surgeon! and.. well.

That! was crushing to hear! And those are real quotes by the way, minus the LOL of course. Because I was able to walk with a cane while medicated, I wasn't eligible for surgery. they insisted upon it, told me there was nothing I could do but wait for the pain to go away. He said 'come back in six weeks and if it's worse I can see if maybe I can treat you but youd still have to wait months to see me for surgery anyways.'

two months of agony and waiting for news for this to be the result.

but, I called my doctor, relayed the news, and she's not willing to give up on me. She's looking for alternate pain relief methods to help keep me from needing to be on the drugs im on indefinitely while I recover, specifically an epidural injection to stop my nerve from sending pain signals to my brain until my disc heals on it's own.

I'm lucky for the support I have from my friends and family, and I know in time I'll feel much better, but for now, my work is going to be slow, now that I'm back at my desk i have to be careful not to sit up straight too long. I may not work as fast or as constantly as I used to for a while, but I'm not going to let this injury keep me from doing the things I love.

Thank you all again for your patience and support. I hope to be better again soon. :]

[leupagus]

Working Title: Grumpy Old Man

Inspired by this excellent post:

He sees her on the playground, of all places. First time he's pretty sure he hallucinates her, pushing a little mini-me version of herself on the swings with her hair in a messy ponytail and arguing with someone on the phone. She's gone grey in the fifteen years since he's seen her last, but she still stands straight and tall like a dancer, still has that dimple on her cheek that had scrambled his brain more times than he could count back in the day.

By the time Jack's confident that she's actually real, they're long gone and Theresa is tugging at his pant leg, demanding uppies and also an ice cream.

"Your mom won't be too happy about that," he warns her even as he swings her up onto his shoulders, the move natural now with almost three months of practice — ever since he'd gotten the call in April, Ingrid barely able to get the words out: Dad, he's gone. He's gone and what are we going to do? "She said no sweets until after dinner."

"Ice cream anna cookie, Grampa," she bargains, fisting her little hands in his hair to steer him toward the ice cream truck like she's an oversized rat hauling him around a fancy restaurant kitchen. He's gotten used to it, though he suspects there's always going to be a part of him terrified that one day she's going to yank him right into traffic and Ingrid will dig up his corpse just to kill him all over again.

(That's all that had kept him from stepping off the roof on his bad days; kept him from unlocking the gun safe in his closet, kept him from the knives and the pills and the dozen other ways he knew he could've ended it quick and clean and painless. Eventually his bad days had faded into the sort of bad day that most people bitch about to their friends or their families, and he didn't have to hold onto his daughter as his one reason for living. But it had been a long few years of that, teetering so close to the edge that tripping had felt like relief.)

-

The next time he sees her at the playground, she sees him first. "Dr. Abbot?" The voice is hesitant, puzzled, and immediately familiar.

She's wearing an oversized sweater-dress and achingly practical boots, her daughter perched on one hip and clapping arrhythmically to a song only she can hear. Jack gets up from the bench after glancing over at the sandpit — Theresa is still engaged in her battle with some kids that look straight out of a remake of Children of the Corn, but she can take them easy — and tries not to read too much into the broad smile on her face as she realizes it is, in fact, him.

"Long time, no see," he says, and she laughs.

"No kidding. You're — how are you?"

"I'm good. And you—" he bites off you look good and gestures at the little girl, who's arching her back in an almost perfect semi-circle now, the universal sign for any kid who wants to be set down. Her mother obeys and the girl takes off like a shot for the slide, still clapping. "Congratulations on," and he makes a vague gesture that he hopes conveys getting knocked up at some point and having a kid with the same cute nose as you have.

"Oh, I just stole her from some mom who wasn't paying attention over at the Baby Gap. Kidding," she adds, as if that little girl could be anyone else's.

"What's her name?"

"Diana. Her father’s idea — he’s big into Wonder Woman — but it’s grown on me.”

“Oh,” he says, and is aware that his voice got pretty high just then. He’s almost sixty-three goddamn years old, this isn’t acceptable. “Congratulations on that, too.”

“Mm,” she says, considering, “probably better to congratulate me on the divorce. But thanks. I can’t pretend I regret it, since I got little Beanie out of the deal.” She watches her daughter for a little while before looking around. “And are you… um. Is one of these—”

Jack abruptly realizes how it looks — an old guy sitting on a bench in the middle of a playground — and says hurriedly, "Yeah, the one in the sandbox over there. My granddaughter."

She turns and frowns. "Which one?"

Just then Theresa scrambles to her feet, holding something aloft. “GRAMPA WE FOUND A POOP,” she bellows. “GRAMPA IT’S STINKY.”

“That one,” he says, blowing out a sigh. “That one’s mine.”

[purplekissinger]

Of arrows and targets

Tom and Y/N have something in common: they are both crazy about the Dark Arts. They create the first Horcrux together. Instead of settling in a diary, a fragment of Tom's soul lodges itself in Y/N.

Tom and Y/N create their first modified spell in their third year. Based on the Warding and Summoning Charms, it has, in fact, a very complex design. It could become a non-trivial task even for a skillful wizard. The daring idea belongs to Y/N, for she wanted to invent a charm that would distract the enemies during a fight. She also has the honor of testing it on herself. Tom feels vaguely uneasy about this.

One early Sunday morning, Y/N and Tom sneak out to the clearing just behind the Quidditch pitch, which the older students sometimes use as a dueling ground. It is the end of April, a windy and sunny day. Y/N laughs and jokes all the whole way there as Tom looks around anxiously and asks her to be quieter to no avail.

Her robe was unbuckled, with a red and yellow scarf sticking out from underneath. Tom looks at the scarf, at Y/N's beaming smile, and his stomach sinks.

***

"I am the disgrace of the Gryffindor House," you said in a devastated tone.

That late evening, you had been sitting on the floor by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room for about an hour. Tom, who had been diligently pretending to read notes from the classes he had missed, casted a disapproving glance at you, then turned and looked at you for real. Intently. The reflections of the flame illuminated his face.

"What do you mean, may I ask?" he asked. "In my opinion, you are the only one of the entire house who somehow justifies its existence."

"You are giving me a pass for my past achievements," you said. Then you paused and added: "And so do I."

"An example?" Tom raised an eyebrow. He still looked exhausted, although he was probably feeling better now. At least he seemed pretty much okay for a person who was lying flat out in the Hospital Wing the day before. You could tell. You spent the night by his bed, after all.

“If I were a real Gryffindor with a spine of one, I would have told Dippet on you,” you muttered.

But you didn’t. Yes, you yelled at Tom, you challenged him to a duel (which you lost), burst into tears and said you didn’t want to know him anymore, begged him to go to the Headmaster and tell the truth, begged him to Obliviate you. You didn’t talk to Tom for six months, raised the entire Gryffindor House from first to last year to rebel and fought more desperately than anyone for Hagrid and defended him. And still you didn’t tell Dippet on Tom.

He covered his eyes with his hand. Such a tired, human gesture.

“I think”, he finally said, ”I think that's your most Gryffindor trait. You don't seem to betray your friends”.

“Who told you I was your friend?”

“You did”,  his smile was faint.

“You passed out!” you suddenly gasped and turned as red as your tie (good thing it wasn't visible in the dark). “You weren't even thinking straight, you couldn't hear me, you idiot - what else did I say?!”

Little by little the storm died down. Hagrid stayed at school, the picture of Myrtle laughing took its place on the wall in the Great Hall. You, however, could not forget. For several months you pretended not to see Tom, but you thought of him every second. For six months he didn't give you any reason to belive that he wanted to reconnect, greeting you as politely and indifferently as anyone else when you ran into each other in the hallway (you didn't bother to answer). If anything, he seemed to have easily gotten over losing you. It was physically painful to think about it.

When the pain dulled a little, Tom suddenly sent you a simple note: "Tonight. Astronomy Tower. 8 p.m. Tell no one." You arrived there fuming, only intending to spit in his face, only to find Tom as calm as ever. He told you that he was going to conduct another experiment, the riskiest yet. You could help him - or not, but in the second case, he wanted to apologize to you once again, for he was not sure if he would survive.

"You said that I am your best friend," Tom chuckled. "And that I should not dare to die. And that you love me”.

You jumped upright. Then sat back down. You swung your arm, as if you wanted to slap him, but then quickly turned away.

"I missed you, Y/N," you heard through the noise in your ears. How, oh how could he say such things so dryly?! "I really did. These have officially been the worst six months of my life. The most boring, useless, unbearable six months without you. Stop covering your ears, I'm not going torepeat myself. Wait, are you crying?”

"Go to hell," you whispered with hatred in your voice. Your voice was shaking with tears.

That night you had a dream.

Nothing terrible was happening in that dream, and yet it was the scariest you ever had. You were wandering through the empty dark corridors of some building, looking desperately for someone, not being able to find them. The floor was laid with gray tiles, the ceiling was low, sometimes a dusty window revealed a washed-out gray void, and there were doors, doors, doors again... Hundreds and hundreds of them. It was getting more and more stuffy, you were already running through the endless labyrinth, yanking the doors towards you, knocking on them, stumbling and falling. You remembered a cramped room behind one of them. Two steps wide, a very high ceiling, a window into a brick wall.

"So it was a success? Or a failure? Your experiment?" you asked gloomily the next day. Your head was splitting from a heavy sleep.

Rain pattered outside. The broom classes were canceled. You and Tom were sitting in the corner of the library, like you had done before, not knowing how to overcome the icy barrier that had grown between you over the past six months. Tom was leafing through the little black book you had already seen once.

“I don’t know,” he said irritably. He exhaled heavily and put the book down. “Not yet, maybe”.

“What was that supposed to do anyway?”

Tom glanced sideways at you. There was something new and unpleasant in that look. Something sharp.

“What do you think it was supposed to do?”

You bit your lip.

The truth was, that one experiment was unlike anything else. The memories of that evening were strangely clear, but somehow devoid of any meaning and so unnatural that they seemed unreal. Each action of the ritual was not individually vile, nor scary, nor dangerous, but altogether they formed some monstrous algorithm, the monstrosity of which eluded description. It was simply impossible to describe. There are things that make you scream, not speak.

“You never really explained it to me,” you finally said. “Well, I held this thing, the book, above you. When you told me to close my eyes, I did so. I couldn’t see anything else.”

You would have closed them either way. You wouldn’t have been able to look any further.

“The book,” Tom repeated. “Exactly. The book. Not a book, though, the diary.”

“Big deal,” you winced, “Then I realized that I couldn’t hear anything. I opened my eyes, saw… Saw you, and then there was the Hospital Wing”.

Memory flash: you drag Tom's limp body across the night field to the lights of the castle in the distance with your last strength. Your hands are numb, your throat is burning, your heart is jumping out of your chest. The lights seem unreachable, and then everything blurs into golden spots when you finally start to sob.

You left the library together - no hand-holding, no exchanged glances, but together nonetheless. It seemed to you that Tom was smiling with the side of his mouth that you did not see.

The next night the dream continued when you burst, exhausted, into a closet with a brick window and saw a boy on a rust-streaked iron bed. The boy looked at you with an inky, burning gaze and said in a raspy voice:

‘Tell that loser that he fucked up his experiment’.

Then he got up from the bed and became three times taller than you. The room was as dark as night, but you saw his face too well. You woke up with a sinking heart and for a long time couldn't figure out where you were. It was four in the morning, the window was just starting to turn gray, yet you didn't dare go back to sleep and trudged to the bathroom instead.

"You look tired," Tom said calmly at breakfast. You couldn't remember letting him sit next to you again. Apparently he decided to take advantage of the lack of a direct ban.

"And you look like a person who lost five gallons of blood three days ago," you snapped. An annoying pain throbbed in your temple.

"A human usually has no more than one gallon of blood," Tom said. Without looking at you, he asked: "Y/N, what happened?"

If you knew him a little less, you would think that there was nothing hidden behind this indifferent tone.

”Answers for answers. I'll tell you if you tell me what this ritual was first”.

“This is not a fair trade”.

“I saved your life, remember?!”

“I will never forget this, thank you very much”.

“Write that down just in case, then. In this little book of yours, maybe. Why do you carry it around everywhere, anyway?”.

What began as a sweet conversation dissolved in angry whispering, swallowed by the Great Hall’s ever-present roar. The Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at you two with immodest curiosity: had Riddle and L/N finally made peace? Tom, not at all embarrassed, silently pushed a plate of pancakes towards you, as if you forgot why you came here, and then he sat next to you in Potions, as if that was how it should be. He was reclaiming the lost ground as quickly as possible, until you came to your senses.

On the third night, you went to bed, carefully placing your head on the pillow, as if it were the mouth of a lion (or a huge snake?). No precautions helped, and all night you ran away from the boy with the inky gaze, who chased you along the dark tiled corridors, sometimes climbing onto the ceiling.

‘You both failed me’, the boy said in a colorless, dry voice, ‘but you are already mine, and I will get him too. Come here, Y/N, don't be scared. You can't run away, you can't run away, you can't run away’.

During the break the next day, you tracked Tom down and literally shoved him into the broom closet by force. Even in the darkness, you could see the malicious smugness glowing in his eyes. He didn't even bother to wipe the victorious grin.

“Is this your idea of passion?” he asked.

“What, in Mordred, did you call into this world with this ritual?” you hissed.

Literally hissed.

The smile slowly faded from his face, and now Tom simply looked at you as if he had never seen you before. For a long minute, you stared at each other in silence, while the sophomores, who had started a fight, were making noise in the hallway outside the door. There was an explosion, and someone screamed in triumph.

 Tom was the first to control himself.

“Do you understand me?” he asked quietly. You had heard him speak this language to snakes before,  once was that evening when he showed you how to open the passage to the Chamber of Secrets. Now, every sound took on meaning and significance, as if a noisy radio broadcast suddenly sounded crystal clear.

“I wish I didn't,” you said.

Then you told him about the nightmares. You were still speaking Parseltongue for the first half of the story, because you hadn't figured out how to switch back to human language. Turned out that Parseltongue was very easy to speak when you were angry.

"We've got a problem, Tom," you said. "Come on, spill it."

And he did. Right there in the closet, twenty minutes before Transfiguration, where you were supposed to have a test.

"Lumos," he said. His face was deathly pale in the wandlight. "See this diary?"

"I've been seeing it for three days now, you've been carrying this around all the time."

"I guess I can throw it away now. The experiment went wrong, there's nothing in it. It's empty."

"What was supposed to be in there?"

Tom covered his face with his hands and shook his head. You'd never seen him like that before. Even while bleeding out there in the clearing, he had kept a calm and reasonable expression on his face. In front of you stood a terrified boy who had broken something that couldn't be glued back together and he didn't even know how to ask for forgiveness.

"I don't know where to start," he said dully. "What do you know about how the soul works?"

"What does that have to do with it? Tom, what were you trying to do? Who is this spider boy, how does he know you, what the hell is going on?!"

"I cut off a piece of my soul and tried to put it in this diary, that's what going on," Tom said sharply. You knew that tone, too. Behind it he was hiding his horror. "But it's not in the diary. That night… Well, during the ritual it chose another vessel”.

You burst into nervous laughter. Merlin, who does he think he is?! The new Adalbert Waffling?!.

"And where is it now, then? Has it chosen, I don’t know, a rock for a new home?!"

Instead of answering, Tom leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Slowly. Pleadingly. Tenderly. Then, before you realized what he was doing, his cool fingers quickly cupped your chin, and the kiss turned into a snake bite. Sarp, demanding, lethal.

“I’m sorry,” he said barely audibly when you got your breath back. “I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

…The next night you dreamed of a small room in which you were sitting on an iron bed, clutching the bars with a death grip. The gray light from the window illuminated the opposite brick wall, when a boy with a pale face and black holes instead of eyes crawled out of it, came up to the bed and laid his head on your lap. He closed his hollow eyes and looked almost like an ordinary child, a very sad one.

“I liked you right away,” he said. “You’re so much better than that stupid diary. You’re warm inside and you love me. You’ll treat me well, right? Better than he did? You won’t leave me? You won’t leave me, right? You won’t? Never ever?”

You patted his head with trembling fingers.

“I won’t leave you, Tommy. I won’t.”

***

Spreading her arms as if for a hug, Y/N laughs playfully:

“Tom! Are you napping over there? Let’s go—show me that spell works!”

The wind flutters the red and yellow scarf on her chest. Red stripe, yellow stripe, red stripe. A target. Tom raises his wand.

His hand is trembling.

[velariscalling]

Morally Grey - An Azriel Imagine

Characters: Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Cassian drags the IC to his new obsession: open mic night at Rita's, and much to his delight, Azriel has been paired up to sing with the Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive language.

A/N: My first ever imagine is HERE!! Honestly I've been so nervous to put this out as it's all very new to me, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! I'm really looking forward to see how my writing develops as I post more, but for now, I hope you enjoy my first post! It's just a load of silly fun tbh. And finally, thank you so much to @sarawritestories for helping me out with the ending, you're the best! <3

Soundtrack: 'Morally Grey' by April Jai feat. Nation Haven

Disclaimer: GIF isn't mine - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Rita’s was bustling.

As it always was on a Friday night, really. They probably should have known better than to come on a weekend, but the welcoming vibrancy of the bar was a welcome reprieve from a long week’s work. Y/N took a deep breath as the music hit her, exhaling as she let any remaining stress seep from her body and into the night.

Before she could think too much about the busy days she’s had as of recently, a hand grabbed each of hers - one perfectly manicured, one covered in swirls of black ink - and pulled her in the direction of the bar. Mor flagged down a barman who recognised them immediately - it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the Night Court’s Inner Circle to make an appearance here.

After a moment, she handed her a shot glass filled with bright green liquid. “Bottoms up, you’re gonna need it tonight,” she grinned, already having necked her own. Feyre giggled as Y/N raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde, throwing back her shot anyway and wincing at the tangy liquid.

“And why is that, exactly?” Y/N cocked her head at her friend, who’s brown eyes danced with excitement.

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes playfully, already flagging down the barman for yet another shot, just for herself this time. “You really think Cassian’s going to let us miss out on tonight? He’s been preparing his song with Rhys for days.”

It’s true - Cassian’s favourite night of the week was their newest tradition, open mic night at Rita’s. Four songs, four duos, randomly selected. Or so he says, anyway. He probably matched himself with Rhysand so he could convince him to sing Mysterious Girl together.

Feyre gripped Y/N’s hand from her other side, clearly trying her hardest to hold back a squeal of excitement. “How are you feeling?” She knew that there was more to that question than meets the eye. It wasn’t a secret that Cassian’s little game had paired her up with Azriel, much to his delight.

She put on her mask of indifference that she had mastered over the months of knowing the shadowsinger, refusing to give any details away of her incessant feelings for him that prodded at her constantly. “I am feeling absolutely fine, High Lady,” she smiled, eyes shining, but a scoff from her left interrupted her.

“Please,” Mor drawled, looking at her with a face that said, don’t even try. “You literally can’t fool anyone, especially not us, so drop the act.”

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t mastered her mask as well as she had initially thought, her twin’s nod of agreement cementing that conclusion. “Okay fine, but what do I have to be nervous about? You are all the ones who should be nervous when we out-sing you.” She smirked at them, but they shared a knowing look.

“There it is, changing the subject,” Feyre chuckled, nursing her drink in her hand. Y/N scowled at her, but she could never actually be mad at her. Frankly, she was more irritated by the fact that she knew her so well. “What? Y/N, this is what happens every time we bring him up.”

She opened her mouth to argue, when an arm was slung over her shoulder, and Feyre’s. “Ladies,” Rhysand’s melodic voice sounded over the music as he appeared between the sisters. He nodded at Mor with a grin, who was already on her… third, or fourth shot? Who knows. “Cass will have a temper tantrum if I don’t drag you all over to the stage right now.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with a laugh and allowed her mate to spin her into his arms, and they both made their way over to the Inner Circle’s area of the bar. Y/N’s heart warmed at the sight of them, knowing that her twin, her double in every way, had found her happiness. Mor looped her arm through hers as they walked behind them, her eyes following Y/N’s gaze. “You’ll have that soon, you know.”

Y/N looked over at her. She was so breathtaking, her brown eyes contrasting her golden hair, and her signature red dress hugging her flawless body in all the right places. Any male or female in this room would be lucky to get her, and yet, she didn’t care. Next to her, though, Y/N felt like nothing. As if Mor could sense her thoughts, she squeezed her arm affectionately. “Come on. Tonight’s the night you’re going to show that other side of you- oh don’t give me that look, I know it’s there.”

Y/N huffed, a lighthearted sound, and shook her head softly. “I wish I had your confidence,” She murmured, a dry joke.

“Babe, you’re sexy. When are you going to realise that?” The sheer certainty in Mor’s voice had Y/N raising her eyebrows at her friend, who simply nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “Channel it tonight. I’ll be watching.” She winked, and released her arm as they arrived at their own table right in front of the stage.

Rhys and Feyre had already taken their seats at the centre, High Lord and Lady looking elegant as ever. Cassian sat to Rhys’s right, his excitement akin to a golden retriever, as Amren, who was sat next to him, clearly tried her hardest not to throttle him. Next to Feyre sat Azriel, his looming shadows making the already dark bar appear pitch black in his presence. There were two empty chairs to his left, and finally Nesta sat at the end of the table, clearly trying to make the most of as much peace and quiet as she could get before the night’s shenanigans unfolded. Mor was quick to take the seat next to her, leaving Y/N between her and Azriel. He gave her a short smile as she sat down, ever the emotionless. “Are you ready?”

The low, icy voice of the shadowsinger never failed to take her by surprise. If the living embodiment of darkness could talk, it would sound like him. She looked at him, his hazel eyes glowing even in the darkness, and replied, “Are you?”

Before Azriel could respond, a flute of sparkly champagne slid from Y/N’s left into view. She turned to see Nesta, wordlessly handing her the drink, with grey-blue eyes that told her that she, too, thought she needed an extra little liquid confidence tonight. She noticed Mor biting her lip so hard she looked as though she may explode, and she rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she turned back to Azriel. To her surprise, it appeared as though a similar grin was tugging on those lips as well.

He merely raised his glass to hers, eyes shining with a grin that he wouldn’t let fully show on his face. She picked up her own glass and clinked it against his, matching his honey gold gaze.

Let the night begin.

It’s safe to say that the performances of the night were… well, entertaining. Cassian was a little too excited dragging Rhys up to perform their number first, giving major boyband energy up on that stage. Feyre was in fits of laughter, but Nesta looked like she wanted to claw her eyes out… but perhaps secretly enjoyed it behind that mask of disgust. Y/N’s two sisters were up next with a rendition of Love Story in which Nesta was surprisingly involved, followed by Amren and Mor’s take on Lady Marmalade, which was frankly the worst thing anyone had ever heard. If the monster lurking beneath Amren’s skin was anything like her singing voice, then Mother help us all.

It wasn’t long before her friends were cheering and whooping as Y/N stood from her seat - the final song. “Get him girl,” Mor whispered as she passed her, Azriel on her heels. She felt the shadows licking at her ankles as she ascended the steps to the stage, gripping the microphone that had been handed to her on the way.

As Azriel situated himself to her left, she stole a quick glance at him. He was looking at the floor, uncharacteristically tense under the gazes of all their friends. It was no secret that Azriel had the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard, a gift from the Cauldron itself, but it occurred to her now that maybe no one else had heard it before. Aside from her, at the couple of short practices they  had done. Even then, she didn’t think he was giving his all.

Y/N faced the front and prepared for the music to play - she was more of a seasoned performer than Azriel. She had played her fair share of gigs around Velaris, a good handful of which on this very stage. If she was showing some confidence, she hoped that it would spark some inside of him. She steeled herself, breathing in deeply as she raised the microphone to her lips, and the music began.

“He’s got gold eyes, crooked smile, knows that he drives me wild,”

She felt the heat of the spotlight on her as she let her voice ring through the bar. It was soft, to begin with, giving the song room to breathe, to build. She looked over at the man she was sharing the stage with, noticing tension already lost from his shoulders at the sound of her voice. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, and she knew then that he’d realised how she’d changed the lyrics to fit him, those perfect golden eyes.

“Can’t help myself, no I’m not in denial,”

The smile she sent his way was telling, it spoke a hundred words. But it wasn’t just her grin that conveyed the message she sent: you’re okay, you’re with me, move with me. There was something between them, an invisible thread connecting the two of them, body and soul and mind. Certain thoughts, certain feelings - she could feel his, and he could feel hers. A bond like this had meaning, they both knew this, but neither of them were bold enough to explore it, acknowledge it. Across that bond, she beckoned him: Azriel, you’re with me, and I’m with you… play with me.

“I know he’s no good for me,”

There was a flicker of something in the shadowsinger’s eyes, as if his mind had decided to pull him down an alternative route to the one he was prepared to go down, the one where he’d back out and run. A shadow of a smirk lingered on his lips, as his own shadows danced around him excitedly, egging him on. The weaving tendrils were clearly more than satisfied with the idea that flashed through their master’s mind, whatever images Y/N’s words had conjured up. Azriel, play with me.

“But when he gets down on his knees,”

The spark in his eyes only seemed to brighten as he brought the lyrics to life, sinking slowly down onto his knees before her. The shit-eating smirk he wore on his face in response to her evident surprise could have sent her to her own knees as she beheld him, kneeling, for her. Mother spare her. A quick glance to her right at the others confirmed that they had all had the same reaction she had, and she feared that the bar staff may have to assist in picking their jaws up from the floor. Azriel’s face was challenging, knowing, yet almost the picture of innocence as she felt his response in her mind: You told me to play with you. She sent one word back at him: Bastard.

If he was going to play dirty, so was she.

“He’s so eager to please, knows the right frequencies,”

He reached a hand out as if to touch her - where, she wasn’t sure - but she grabbed it before he could make any contact. Scars felt rough against her soft skin as she walked slowly, teasingly around him and she sang the chorus, her heeled boots tugging her posture upright so her body curved in all the right places. She caught Feyre’s eye as she circled Azriel, still knelt on the floor and looking as though he was more than content to stay there forever. Y/N’s sister looked like her eyes were about to bulge out of her head, her smile growing so big that Y/N thought it would be too big for her face. Next to her, Rhysand simply winked, an encouraging smirk boosting her confidence.

“They say he’s morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite colour,”

As she made her way back to the front of Azriel’s view, still gripping his hand as he held it upright for her to use, she slowly lowered herself down to a squat in front of him as she sang the line. From this angle, she was now much closer to his face than before, and she noticed the subtle sheen of lust glazing over his eyes. It almost made her lose balance - almost. She brought his hand gently to her lips, placing a chaste kiss onto his marred knuckles, and he took in a sharp breath. Most people flinch when they see his hands, or grimace, or turn away. Not Y/N. No, she thinks Azriel’s scars are part of his story. The backstory to a warrior, a survivor. Scars are not the memory of what happened, but a testament to who you have become.

“Morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite…”

She rose to her feet, prepared to give Azriel some space to begin his verse, remembering the nerves that clung to him barely a minute ago. As she began to turn, taking the first step away from him, something cold slithered around her ankle, and one around her waist. The shadows pulled her straight back to where she was as the music lowered, and held her in place, as if they knew that hearing his voice would send her to the floor. And Mother above, they knew her well.

“What can I say? No I don’t pray, but for your body, I’ll worship,”

She could have sworn her knees buckled, but she couldn’t tell from the shadows holding her still. Azriel’s voice was like silk, so soft and pure, yet it lit her insides on fire in a way that she’d never felt, burning her up like a beautiful, dying star. If his voice was to be the thing to send her to her death, then so be it. She would die very, very happy. He reached out once again, and this time she did not stop him as he ran his hand up her thigh all the way to her waist from his position on the floor. Even kneeling, his Illyrian frame was intimidatingly large, her body standing not too much taller than his. His eyes watched his hand intently as it traced the curve of her side, as if they didn’t have an audience, one that was most definitely gaping at Azriel’s sudden brazenness.

“Girl don’t be afraid, my love’s a grenade, just be a good girl, you can take it,”

Like an angel rising from the ashes of war, Azriel stood slowly, wings flaring as he rose to his full height. His gaze was already intense when she was the one looking down at him, but now that he was the one towering over her, the darkness in his eyes shot electricity straight through her body and into her core, her head reeling with thoughts so sinful that nothing could save her. His hand on her waist squeezed on the words good girl, and she was forced to bite her lip hard to stop herself from reacting in a way that would later be incredibly embarrassing. His eyes tracked the movement, lingering on her bottom lip as she released it from her teeth with a pop.

“Call me insane but for you, I was made, I’d burn the world down if it’d make you feel safe,”

The fire in Azriel’s eyes blazed as he took one step toward her, and another, and another, closer and closer. The upper hand that Y/N had held up until now had slipped, yielding step after step backward, her control completely faltering. She had always known that doing this with Azriel would likely create some… tension between the two of them, and he must have known, but Cauldron, this was unlike anything she had ever expected. Azriel was so close that she felt his body heat, felt her face warming, likely for everyone to see under the harsh glare of the spotlights.

“It’s you that I crave, and nothing compares to your taste,”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like Azriel meant every single word he was singing. No, he didn’t write the lyrics himself of course, but the way his eyes burned with such feeling, and… what looked to be desperation, told her there was much more to this than meets the eye. And Gods… the way his voice cracked ever so slightly with a primal need as those final words left his mouth had her praying to whatever higher powers she could to forgive her for the damning shivers he was sending straight to the very heart of that taste he craved so badly.

As the chorus rolled around once more, their voices finally blended as one, and nothing had ever sounded so right. Azriel’s shadows danced freely around the two of them, creating a tornado of darkness, of intimacy, where they were right in the eye of the storm. The song continued, and the pull between the two of them was magnetic, almost hypnotic as they completely forgot about the audience they had; their family who were most definitely gaping like fish out of water. Y/N could feel Azriel’s warm breath on her face as he sang, his angelic voice whispering less-than-angelic promises that only she could hear in the way it trembled.

Y/N honestly didn’t think that Azriel could get any closer - what she failed to consider was that the shadowsinger was in so deep that he wasn’t planning on stopping until there was absolutely no space left between them. As the song once again softened, Azriel took his chance and leaned impossibly closer, abandoning his vocals in favour of a different use of that mouth. Y/N inhaled sharply as Azriel’s lips brushed against hers, gently, experimentally. Some instinctive part of her that knew this was right pushed her forward to press her lips a little harsher against his, earning a shiver from the shadowsinger. She heard a soft rustle coming from behind him as his wings twitched from the anticipation.

As he pulled away, Azriel heard a shaky exhale escape her lips, caused only by the feeling of him, the heat of two bodies pressed close together, the rush of meeting the lips of the person who, deep down, you know is made for you. Your partner. Your mate. That shiver he elicited from Y/N was the final straw - the last thing he needed to cement his plans for the night. His face still inches from hers, he whispered with a voice so low he wasn’t sure it had even come from him, “You’re mine tonight.”

One moment, the IC were watching dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of them, some wondering if they really should be averting their eyes (apart from Cassian, who sat with a shit-eating grin on his face). The next moment, the stage was empty, a whisper of shadows the only thing left standing in their wake. Azriel had disappeared in a flash, winnowed to who knows where, taking Y/N with him.

“Goddamn, Az,” Rhys chuckled into his drink after a beat of shocked silence. “Nicely done.”

“No! But they didn’t even finish their song!” Cassian pouted, gesturing wildly at the empty stage as the music still played from the speakers.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s their priority right now, Cass,” Mor giggled, practically vibrating from excitement and pride, exploding with glee at what had taken place since her little pep talk earlier.

Rhys set his glass down on the table in favour of throwing an arm over the top of Feyre’s chair. “It’s about time those two did something about the obvious, right?”

As Feyre’s eyes sparkled with delight for her twin, she giggled at his words, overjoyed at the knowledge that Y/N may at last feel the happiness of having a mate. A partner for all eternity.  “Yeah… finally.”

[kudouusagi]

Utsumi interview in April PASH

There are spoilers for the OVA so I'm putting it all under the cut

Q: Please tell us any memories you have of the time you were making the character named Shindou Ainosuke (ADAM). Also, did you feel that the character “transformed” as the production progressed? A: When we first started working on the screenplay, I couldn't really picture what his position as a last boss was, and so I felt a bit conflicted about him. After studying other works and adding elements that were unique to him, he became what he is today but I never expected him to become the way he is...... His perversion and violence are his defining features, and I think the decision to include the former was made once the mask was decided. However, if he goes too far, he would become unclassy, so we had to control how much we used it, and I think it's really because Koyasu-san was such a classy Ainosuke (ADAM) that he become the character he is today. Q: What do you think makes Ainosuke (ADAM) so lovable? A: In 3rd place: The fact that when he gets excited, he wants to dance and starts tap dancing. In 2nd place: The fact that when he first came into contact with Langa, he tried not to touch him but that just made it seem like he was too conscious of it and made it seem even more perverted. In 1st place: The fact that when Langa hugged him in episode 5, he malfunctioned and started skating in circles and saying "Love... Love... Lovelyyy~~♡♡♡". It's adorable to think that he was so happy that he broke. Q: What is something you thought was important regarding the interactions between Ainosuke and Kikuchi in the series? A: During the first season I was conscious of the sharp, tense atmosphere between them because of their feud, but in the OVA, I assumed their scenes would take place after the first season ended, so the relationship between them is new. I can't really say what what their relationship is now, but it's definitely not the same as before. Q: Please tell us more about Ainosuke's school days! A: There are a lot of mysteries about Ainosuke's school days, aren't there? We have only determined what we have shown in the story so this is just my personal opinion...... But I imagine that he's able to do everything better than most people and so he probably found his classmates boring. That's why he was so absorbed in skating...... and thinking about that makes me sad so I'd like to see him attending class in gym clothes or a swimsuit. Q: There's just a little over a month left until Ainosuke's birthday (May 1st)! If you were to give him a present, what would it be? A. Huh!? I feel like if I tried to give it to him I'd be hit by a board but.... I'll be brave and give it...... I'll try to give him a giant rice ball made by Langa! I can do it! Let me have a go!!!

To the left, Utsumi wrote a letter to ADAM to celebrate his birthday.

Dear Shindou Ainosuke, Have you been doing well? This might be a little early, but happy birthday. I laughed when I saw that the request from the PASH staff this time was for a pinup of you on horseback. I'm sorry, please don't hit me. This is just proof that everyone loves you. I was happy that we were able to see a peak of various aspects of you in the OVA. When I saw you swinging the board around I got goosebumps. It's a terrifying technique. I'll continue cheering you on from behind the scenes. Sincerely, Utsumi Hiroko March 2025 PS: I made sure to hide your ass in the shower scene so please don't be angry with me.

[misfitwashere]

ROBERT REICH

MAR 14

Friends,

It seems as if the horrendous Trump news doesn’t end — and it doesn’t. We’ve barely endured just over seven weeks of his scourge and every day brings new awfulness. 

But the worse it gets, the more Trump, Musk, and the rest of the oligarchy reveal themselves. And the more they reveal themselves — the more they abuse their wealth and power, side with Putin, trample civil liberties, and ride roughshod over the Constitution — the stronger the backlash against them will be. 

Here’s this week’s summary of 10 reasons for very modest optimism.

1. The Trump slump is worsening.

The first reason for very modest optimism is the current bad economic news. Americans voted for Trump because they thought he’d fix the economy. Many are now suffering buyer’s remorse. 

On Monday, in retaliation for Trump’s tariffs on Chinese imports, China began imposing tariffs on a range of American farm products, including a 15 percent levy on chicken, wheat, and corn. This is already beginning to hurt the Farm Belt — mostly Republican states and Trump voters. 

On Wednesday, after Trump’s 25 percent tariffs on all aluminum and steel imported into the U.S. went into effect, the European Union announced retaliatory tariffs on about $28 billion worth of products, including beef and whiskey — also mostly produced by Republican states (think Kentucky bourbon). Europe is also slapping tariffs on Harley-Davidson motorcycles, made in the Rust Belt.

In response this morning, Trump threatened a 200 percent tariff on all alcoholic products from EU member states. As a result, Trump voters — largely working-class — will be paying more.

Canada also announced new tariffs on about $21 billion worth of U.S. products.

What does this all mean for the economy? 

In a Fox News interview that aired Sunday, Trump did not rule out the possibility that his policies would cause a recession. That possibility is growing by the day. 

The stock market has continued to plummet. Yesterday, the S&P 500 fell 1.4 percent; the index is now down 10.1 percent from its peak reached less than one month ago and in a “correction” — Wall Street slang for when an index falls 10 percent or more from its peak and when investors worried about a sell-off gathering steam.

Other major indexes, including the Russell 2000 and the tech-heavy Nasdaq Composite, were already in correction territory.

The rest of the economy isn’t far behind. 

Last Friday’s jobs report showed employers adding 151,000 jobs in February — half as many as in November and December. Leisure and hospitality jobs have declined in the past two months, suggesting that consumers are pulling back on discretionary spending.

The labor force participation rate also fell 0.2 percentage points, to 62.4 percent, mostly due to declining employment among men. The number of workers employed part-time who wanted but couldn’t get full-time work increased by 460,000 to 4.9 million, the most since spring 2021.

CEOs’ assessment of American business conditions is the lowest since the spring of 2020. The New York Times monthly consumer survey finds households feeling gloomy about their year-ahead financial situations. 

The Federal Reserve Bank of New York reported Monday that Americans are increasingly worried about the state of their finances. The perceived probability of missing a minimum debt payment over the next three months climbed to its highest level since April 2020, when the economy was in a Covid-19-related freefall.

Egg prices, an emerging symbol of America’s affordability crisis, jumped 10.4 percent last month after a big rise in January.

2. Trump’s support continues to tank.

The consequence of all this for Trump’s political support? It’s tanking. In the latest Emerson national poll, 46 percent of voters say his policies are making the economy worse rather than better, while 28 percent say the opposite (the rest had no opinion). 

In a new CNN/SSRS poll, almost three-quarters of Americans view the current economic conditions in the U.S. as poor, 51 percent of the public say they think Trump’s policies have worsened economic conditions, and just 28 percent say that his policies have improved things. 

In the same poll, the share of Americans saying they expect the economy to be in bad shape a year from now is up 7 points since January, just before Trump took office.

Fifty-five percent of Americans surveyed say they fear Trump’s cuts to federal programs will negatively affect the economy, and just over 50 percent say that they will negatively affect their own families or local communities.

In a new YouGov poll, 48 percent of Americans think the economy is getting worse, up from 37 percent at the start of Trump's second term. Forty-seven percent expect higher inflation in six months — more than twice the share six months ago.

In the latest Quinnipiac poll, 54 percent disapprove of Trump’s handling of the economy; only 41 percent approve.

In a new CNN poll, 56 percent of voters disapprove of Trump’s handling of the economy — higher than at any point during his first term. In addition, 61 percent disapprove of tariffs.

I don’t have huge trust in polls but when all major polls show the same thing, there’s reason to believe them. 

3. Musk’s claimed savings don’t exist, and his businesses are going down the toilet. 

Musk continues to claim big savings from his DOGE effort to take a chainsaw to government. But so far, the actual savings have proven to be tiny. 

Soon there will be no way to tell, because Musk and DOGE have just stopped providing identifying details about the cuts — so there’s no way to fact-check them. Not only is this a major step backward from Musk’s promise that he’d be “maximally transparent,” but also it makes his claims of savings nothing but unverifiable propaganda. 

DOGE has refused to answer Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests from journalists and watchdog groups. On Monday, though, a federal judge ruled that DOGE is likely subject to the FOIA — a win for journalists, watchdogs, and researchers who have demanded greater transparency. On Thursday, another judge ordered Musk and DOGE to turn over records and answer questions in response to a legal complaint filed by Democratic state attorneys general. 

Meanwhile, Musk’s growing political power and his shift to the political hard right are damaging his businesses. 

Consumers are boycotting Tesla. More than a dozen violent or destructive acts have been directed at Tesla facilities. Tesla’s stock has fallen by more than 35 percent since Trump’s inauguration; it’s down 50 percent since December. 

Musk is so alarmed by this that he got Trump to hold a White House promotional event for Tesla this week — where Trump essentially read a Tesla sales pitch and lied that consumer boycotts are “illegal.”

In Germany, sales of Teslas plummeted 76 percent in February compared with a year earlier, according to figures released Wednesday. 

Antipathy to Musk is also denting sales of his Starlink satellite internet business. 

Musk raised alarms this past weekend when he wrote on X that Ukraine’s front line “would collapse” against Russian forces if Starlink were shut off. 

Radoslaw Sikorski, Poland’s foreign minister, suggested that his country “will be forced to look for other suppliers” if Starlink is “unreliable.” Musk later told Sikorski to “be quiet, small man.”

Andrius Kubilius, the European Union commissioner overseeing defense and space, talked of quickly replacing Starlink if necessary.

Italy is having second thoughts about awarding a $1.6 billion contract to Starlink. 

Over the past week, shares in Eutelsat — the French rival to Starlink — have more than tripled.

4. The FBI is moving to criminalize groups like Habitat for Humanity for receiving grants from the Environmental Protection Agency under the Biden administration.

I’m including this as a reason for optimism because it so clearly demonstrates just how absurd and extreme the Trump regime has become.

On Wednesday, Citibank revealed in a court filing that it was told to freeze Habitat for Humanity’s bank accounts, at the FBI’s request. The reason? The FBI alleges that the group is involved in “possible criminal violations,” including “conspiracy to defraud the United States.”

Habitat for Humanity, you may recall, is the group that builds low-income houses in America’s communities. Jimmy Carter worked with them for decades. What did they do to earn the FBI’s ire? They received a climate grant from the Biden administration’s EPA. 

Other nonprofits also being targeted by the FBI for receiving climate grants include the Appalachian Community Capital Corporation, the Coalition for Green Capital, and the DC Green Bank.

Yet these groups’ applications for government grants for environmental work were fully reviewed and accepted by the Biden administration’s EPA. 

This is not fraud. It’s targeted harassment. And it will be viewed that way by most Americans. 

5. Trump’s “beautiful bill” is stranded. 

Trump apparently believes that fees from his tariffs when added to savings from Musk’s budget cuts will enable him to finance another large tax cut mainly for big corporations and the wealthy. 

Even if he’s correct (which seems extremely doubtful), those tariff fees are financed by American consumers who will be paying higher prices for imports and who’ll also be losing services because of Musk’s cuts. They are are largely working-class Trump voters. Talk about reverse Robin Hood. 

Meanwhile, Republicans in control of the House and Senate are divided over the size of spending reductions that should accompany their pending tax cuts, which budgetary yardstick they use, and whether a debt-ceiling increase should be attached. 

The Senate still hasn’t agreed to the House strategy to pass one bill that would address the fiscal matters along with border security, after months of debate over whether to split Trump’s priorities into two or even three party-line bills.

Until these questions are resolved with an agreement between House and Senate Republicans, Congress can’t unlock the door to the fast-track “reconciliation” process that circumvents Senate Democrats. And until they unlock that door — which could take weeks or months — Trump’s “one big, beautiful bill” is stranded.

6. Bernie is rallying the Democrats

On Friday night, Bernie Sanders drew a crowd of 4,000 in Kenosha, Wisconsin, in what he calls his “Stop Oligarchy Tour.” On Saturday morning, another 2,600 in Altoona, Wisconsin, a town of less than 10,000 residents. Then 9,000 in suburban Detroit, where United Auto Workers President Shawn Fain introduced him.

Each stop has been in a swing House district represented by a Republican.

Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez will join Bernie on the road in the coming weeks. She’s also planning solo appearances in Republican-held congressional districts in Pennsylvania and New York and other districts where Republicans have declined to hold in-person town halls because they might face protests.

Elizabeth Warren and Greg Casar headlined a 3,500-person rally in Austin,Texas — the heart of Musk’s business empire. 

Tim Walz and many House Democrats will host town halls in GOP districts where their Republican congressmen are avoiding town halls.

Bernie is showing Democratic lawmakers and prospective candidates how hungry Americans are for a strong counteroffensive against Trump and Musk — in contrast to Democratic political operative James Carville’s suggestion that Democrats “roll over and play dead,” and Minority Leader Chuck Schumer’s willingness to surrender to Republicans on the budget resolution. 

7. A coalition of 21 Democratic attorneys general has sued Trump, and the federal courts are becoming even more active in stopping him. 

On Thursday — two days after the Education Department fired more than 1,300 workers, purging people who administer grants and track student achievement across America — a coalition of Democratic attorneys general sued the Trump regime, saying that the dismissals were “illegal and unconstitutional.”

The coalition is seeking a court order to stop what it calls “policies to dismantle” the department. 

Meanwhile, Judge Beryl Howell of the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia condemned Trump’s executive order punishing law firms that have had Democratic clients, such as special counsel Jack Smith — denying their attorneys access to federal buildings and stripping them of government contracts. 

On Thursday, U.S. District Judge William Alsup ordered federal agencies to rehire tens of thousands of probationary employees who have been fired by Trump. Judge Alsup described the mass firings as a “sham” strategy by Trump’s Office of Personnel Management to sidestep legal requirements for reducing the federal workforce.

Alsup ordered that probationary employees across DOD, Treasury, Energy, Interior, Agriculture, and the VA be hired back “immediately.” Alsup also lashed out at the Justice Department over its handling of the case, saying Trump lawyers were hiding the facts about who directed the mass firings. 

Another federal judge has blocked the deportation of Columbia University graduate student Mahmoud Khalil, whose green card was voided by the Trump regime and was then imprisoned for his political views. 

8. Oligarchs are revealing themselves for who they really are.

This week further revealed how the American oligarchy is using their wealth to curry favor with Trump. Some examples: 

Jeff Bezos has decided to stream all seven seasons of Trump’s former reality show, “The Apprentice,” on Amazon Prime. Trump was an executive producer and is likely to receive royalties from the agreement. He even plugged the deal on Truth Social. 

Bezos’s Amazon is also paying $40 million for a documentary about the life of Melania Trump. According to The Wall Street Journal, she’s set to make $28 million from the deal. 

Bezos has also washed his Washington Post clean of any op-eds critical of Trump (leading to the resignation of some of its top opinion writers, such as Ruth Marcus) and refuses to carry ads critical of Trump. 

Meanwhile, Musk, the wealthiest person in the world, who spent more than $250 million to help elect Trump, is donating an additional $100 million to help further Trump’s agenda. 

9. Other nations are uniting against Trump, and the global right is losing ground.

It’s also become apparent this week that Trump is, ironically, the great unifier of Europe. Trump’s policies have helped leaders who were struggling with stagnant economies and rightwing opponents. Facing down American tariffs and drawing together to confront an ally that is behaving more like an adversary has proved to be good politics.

British Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s whirlwind of diplomacy — trying to marshal a European peacekeeping force for Ukraine while also working to salvage the alliance with Washington — has won him praise across Britain’s political spectrum. Starmer’s poll numbers have bounced back from what was a dismal first six months in government.

In Mexico, President Claudia Sheinbaum has won praise and stratospheric poll numbers for her coolheaded handling of Trump’s tariffs. Mark Carney, a former central banker, was catapulted to the leadership of Canada’s Liberal Party with 86 percent of the vote on the belief that he can manage a trade war with the United States.

Carney’s party, which lagged the Conservatives by double digits under the premiership of Justin Trudeau, has recently closed the gap, putting the Liberals within striking distance of a victory in an election that Carney is expected to call soon. The Conservative leader, Pierre Poilievre, has struggled to regain momentum, and Liberals have been quick to paint him as a Canadian Trump.

10. Americans will soon feel the effects of the Trump-Musk chainsaw.

Most Americans don’t care terribly much that government workers are being axed, but they do care about government services being axed. They’re about to feel those effects very soon. This is also cause for modest optimism because the sooner most people feel those effects, the stronger will be the backlash against the Trump regime. Consider, for example: 

— Weather. The National Weather Service produces lifesaving forecasts, but Trump is cutting 20 percent of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration — hobbling weather forecasts. 

— Food stamps. Millions of poor families, many in red states, rely on Supplemental Nutrition Assistance — food stamps — to have enough to eat. The Trump regime is making substantial cuts and wants states to make up the difference. Most red states cannot. 

— Veterans benefits. Over 9 million veterans depend on benefits from the Veterans Administration. But Trump’s cuts at the VA have disrupted medical treatment, ended studies involving experimental treatments, forced some facilities to fire support staff, and created uncertainty amid the mass cancellation of hundreds of VA contracts. The VA serves a constituency courted heavily by Republicans. Veterans, including Republican-leaning vet groups, are fighting back against Trump’s VA cuts.

— Measles. With lower rates of vaccination against measles and a vaccine skeptic at the helm at HHS, we’re witnessing significant measles outbreaks in Texas and New Mexico that have infected more than 250 people — many of them unvaccinated school-age children — and claimed two lives; a flu season that led to record numbers of hospitalizations; and the potential for a bird flu epidemic. 

— Tuberculosis. Americans are vulnerable to communicable diseases that exist in other nations, such as tuberculosis, which kills more people worldwide than any other infectious disease. But since Trump ordered the freeze on USAID, the entire system of finding and treating TB has collapsed in dozens of countries across Africa and Asia.

— Education. On Tuesday, Trump and Musk fired half the Education Department, purging people who administer grants and track student achievement across America. Education cuts will hurt red states in particular: States that voted for Trump last November, on average, use more federal funding in their education apportions than states that voted for former Vice President Harris.

— Social Security. More than 100 million Americans depend on Social Security. But Musk’s DOGE is now combing through Social Security databases to flag suspicious payments. Musk describes Social Security as rife with fraud and repeats the conspiracy theory that Democrats have used it as a “gigantic magnet to attract illegal immigrants and have them stay in the country.” Earlier this month, he referred to Social Security as “the biggest Ponzi scheme of all time.” 

This week, DOGE tried to eliminate Social Security’s phone customer service, only to scrap the plan after massive public backlash (although DOGE is still cutting phone options for direct deposit changes).

***

I offer you these reasons for very modest hope not because I want you to deny the awfulness of what’s occurring, but because I want you to see we are not necessarily doomed. Not all is lost. There are reasons to believe that the vast majority of Americans are catching on. And if that’s the case, the scourge will be over. We may even be stronger for having gone through it.