#or reactions to how the users are discussed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

penkura · 4 months ago

Note

Hello this is my first request for your page so if it's alright can you do "everyone knows" from the Sanji fic but make it Ace instead? Thank you!

Hi omg, I'm so sorry this has taken so long, I had to take my time because I kept getting ideas on how to do this one, and it's finally done for you!! I really hope you'll enjoy how it turned out, I love Ace and want to write even more for him, he deserves it. 💚

This is an AU; Sabo, Luffy, and Ace are in constant contact, and no Marineford issues (despite it being my favorite arc). 😌 Please enjoy everyone! (its also 7.1k words i'm so sorry)

“I told you to be careful, you know.”

“I know that, Marco. You’re not helping!”

The whine you give while Marco pats your head makes him laugh at the same time, repeating what he’s just told you as you sink further into the chair in his office. You can’t believe you let this happen, that he was right to tell you and Ace be careful when you started dating. Neither of you really understood what he meant back then, but you sure do now.

“You’re definitely pregnant. Looks like…about seven weeks, almost eight,” Marco smiles to himself when you whine again, face hidden in your hands, “I don’t see anything to be worried about, you both look completely healthy so far.”

You’re screwed, you just know it. It’s only been a few months, you and Ace haven’t even had a chance to discuss marriage or babies or anything like that. You’ve just been dating and having fun with each other.

A little too much fun it seems, considering the—what should be--good news Marco’s given you today. It really should be good news, the whole crew has waited so long for you and Ace to get together, hearing you’re pregnant would just excite every one of them.

You should be happy too, but there’s too many worries and fears taking over your mind at the moment to be excited and happy about having a baby with Ace. You two danced around your feelings for each other for so long, that no one would be surprised if you made this announcement. You’ll never know about the betting pools going on, everyone trying to figure out when you’ll either get married or have a child, and now it looks like the latter is going to net someone a decent amount of cash. (Its Marco who wins, don’t worry about it if he gets your baby something really nice.)

You bury your face in your hands, Marco just watches you at first, before sighing to himself. He’s watched you and Ace avoid the obvious feelings you had for each for years now, so when you confided to him that you were going to finally tell Ace, soon after the fire user said the same thing to him, Marco was happy for you both and your biggest supporter, he knew you guys would he happy together and he’s been right so far.

He's not at all surprised by your sudden pregnancy, you and Ace aren’t sneaky at all and he’s been expecting this for a while now. Your reaction though, tells him that you guys probably haven’t even discussed having kids or anything like that at all. It makes sense that you wouldn’t yet, it’s still early in your relationship, that helps explain your reaction. The way you have your face buried in your hands like you’re trying to hide from the world or wake up from what seems like a good but bad dream.

You probably do wish it was the flu now.

“Hey,” you peek between your fingers to see Marco crouched in front of you, one hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “You and Ace will be great parents. I know you guys didn’t plan this, but everything will be fine. I’ll make sure of that as your and this baby’s doctor.”

It almost makes you cry, though you stop yourself. You remove your hands from your face, still hanging your head when you speak up.

“…I’m scared Ace will be mad…”

“At you? Never in a million years,” Marco chuckles lightly while patting your knee, “He’d throw himself in the ocean before he got angry at you, especially since he had a part in this. Takes two to make a baby and you’re only one half of the equation.”

You know Marco is right, Ace would never get mad at you over something he had a hand in. While he may not be as excited when you tell him, you aren’t sure just what his reaction will be yet, but you know there’s no way he’ll be yelling at you like it’s your fault. Maybe Ace will be happy and excited, maybe he’s just never said he wants kids or hasn’t thought about it since you’re both still only twenty. It’s likely not in the front of his mind or something he’s thought about, you’ll have to try talking about it later with him, once you’ve settled down and worked out how to bring this up.

“…what if he doesn’t want this?”

“Do you want this?”

You stay quiet for a moment before nodding.

“I’ve…I’ve wanted to have my own family…ever since my parents and brothers died.”

“That’s all that matters then.”

You’ve been with the Whitebeard Pirates for so long, ever since you were twelve, but you still hadn’t told many of them about how you’d lost your family. The hurricane that swept through your home island and ruined countless lives while taking just as many, you were one of the lucky few to survive but at the cost of your parents and older brothers. You were beyond lucky when the Whitebeard Pirates showed up, you clung onto Pops like he was your savior and he just had to let you come along, you weren’t going to let go otherwise. Marco and Izo became your favorite people immediately, Thatch following soon after when he gave you a sweet to try. Everyone quickly accepted you as their new little sister, you hadn’t felt such felt love since you’d lost your family and don’t think you could ever leave them now.

Then when Ace joined you were instantly head over heels for him, it took him a bit before he felt the same for you but neither of you could ever view the other as a sibling like you did the rest of the crew, it didn’t feel right even when you first met. Good thing too otherwise this would be very awkward right now.

“All right,” Marco nods and goes back to a cabinet, digging through it, “We’ll keep this between you and me, we won’t tell Pops until you’ve told Ace. We’ll get with Thatch though so he can keep alcohol from you and start you on a meal plan to make sure you and the baby have everything you need. And I want you to start taking these pre-natal vitamins, okay?”

You nod when Marco hands you a bottle of vitamins, you’re still nervous and worried about how Ace will react, but you have some time to think. He’s off seeing Luffy right now with a stop by to visit Sabo planned, he’d told you yesterday over a call that it’d be another week or so before he gets back, you have time to get used to this and plan how to tell him.

Marco pats your head, giving you a smile when he sees you tighten your grip on the bottle.

“Everything will be okay, no matter what happens.”

“I know…thanks, Marco.”

“Anything for you. Now,” you return his smile and start to feel a little better about the whole situation, especially when Marco speaks again, “Let’s go do an ultrasound, hm?”

+!+

Marco keeps your first sonogram images in his office, away from others who might see and spoil the surprise before you even get to tell Ace your news. Thatch is the only other person who knows right now, he’s excited for you and has a meal plan ready by the end of the day you tell him, no one really questions it when you don’t have alcohol at dinner. You really only drank when Ace was around because he’d always get you back to his room safely, so no one questions it when you aren’t given any drinks apart from water at any meal.

Nothing really changes for now, apart from Marco wanting to check on you every few days to make sure everything still looks good and so far it does. None of your crewmates question this either, knowing you haven’t been feeling well and believing that Marco is just taking extra precautions and ensuring you haven’t caught anything severe. You promise anyone who asks that everything is okay and you’re fine, just getting over whatever illness made you sick.

You’re able to keep it all a little secret between you, Marco, and Thatch for the time being, and it continues to be that way even when Ace finally returns to you and the Moby Dick. You’re busy with Marco when he gets there, not for an appointment but to figure out what needs restocked on the ship, but Ace seeks you out once he’s finished talking to Whitebeard and others about Luffy and Sabo, running to you and shouting your name once he sees you.

It makes you anxious for a moment but so beyond happy to see him again. Once he gets to you, Ace scoops you up in his arms and hugs you so tight, you do the same and laugh while he tells you just how much he missed you. You think you probably missed him more, this was the first time he’d gone off to see his brothers since you started dating, it was rough even before you learned you were pregnant, you’re sure the hormones are what made the last week and a half even worse.

Ace drags you off to his room once he’s greeted everyone, you two need some time together and he’s desperate for it, you’re the one he thought about every day that he was gone and when he hears you were sick most of the time he was gone, his shoulders drop and he frowns. He hates that he wasn’t there to help you recover, but he’s glad you all have Marco around when any of you get sick or injured. The smile you have makes Ace feel better about it though, even when he noticed something there that he can’t quite place but it looks like anxiety or nervousness.

“You’re okay now though, yeah?”

“Mm-hm!” You nod, making Ace smile again as he wraps his arms around you, causing you to fall back on his bed with a laugh as he buries his face in your shirt, “Marco made sure of it, so you don’t have to worry about getting sick. I’m all yours today~”

“Good,” Ace barely notices you flinch a little when he presses his face into your stomach, but he thinks it’s probably that you’re not as fully recovered as you’re claiming, “As long as I can just lay here with you now~ I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Ace.”

You’re really glad he’s back, honestly. You were fine the first day Ace was gone but the next day you were more emotional and felt oddly lonely without him around, even with the others around. Ace has always been the brightest part of your days, even before you started dating he was the one who would find you first every morning just to greet you with a grin, making your stomach do flips for a while before you got used to it.

“Hey,” Ace looks up at you just enough to see your face while you run your fingers through his hair, giving you a sleepy smile, “What…do you think about having kids…?”

He's surprised by your question, but stays quiet for a minute, having to really think about it. Ace hasn’t ever thought it was a good idea for him to be a father, he’s never really thought that he’d be good at it or that he should even think about it, but he also knows about how much you want to have a child one day, to have your own family. The few times you two would talk about your pasts and your futures, while he’d told you who his real father was and you’d explained how you joined up with the Whitebeard Pirates, though Ace didn’t really have a plan for his future you always said how much you wanted to have kids of your own. He knows it mostly stems from having lost your biological family when you were younger, before you two ever met, and he respects your wants and desires.

But he’s just now sure about how he fits into that, if he wants that himself.

“I…don’t know…what about it?”

“I mean,” you shrug a bit as Ace starts to sit up, looking like he’s thinking but also concerned, hopefully he hasn’t figured you out from that one question, “It…could be fun right? To be parents one day…”

Ace doesn’t say anything, it makes you more nervous that you were about bringing it up, but you keep a smile on your face as you keep talking.

“Maybe one day, a little girl with your personality or a boy who looks just like you. I think I’d like that. We can raise them here with everyone, and your brothers—”

“I don’t think I want kids,” he doesn’t look at you when saying that, like he’s expecting you to end your relationship there since he knows your hopes for the future, but he’s hoping that’s not the case, “I just…I don’t want them to suffer because of me, or my past.”

“Ace, they wouldn’t—”

“Can we not talk about this now? I’m tired and I just want to spend time with you…”

Even though all you do is nod, it makes you feel sick that you can’t talk about this right now. You knows he’s tired, he needs to rest after having been gone and just getting back that day, but it still makes you more anxious than you already were. Ace lays next to you again, quiet himself, but he pulls you into a hug and kissed your forehead, hoping that he hasn’t upset you or anything. He really hasn’t, you kind of expected him to shut down any talk about having kids right now, it shouldn’t be in your minds yet but the fact you’re already pregnant has you thinking about it constantly. You were hoping to get this discussed and settled right away, but maybe you should’ve waited until he was back for a day or two, instead of the day he got back. Maybe of you gave him some time to relax before you brought it up, you wouldn’t be feeling like you’re about throw up right now.

Actually, you’re sure it’s morning sickness combined with the anxiety and worry now, your stomach isn’t calming down and you have to push Ace away to get out of his bed.

“I don’t feel good,” Ace tilts his head as you move to leave, confused and now worried you’re still sick, “I…feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hey,” Ace grabs your wrist when you try to run off, concern on his face when you don’t look at him, “Are you okay? You’re still sick?”

“Mm,” you nod before giving him a small smile, but it makes Ace even more concerned though he does let you go, “Just…gonna run to Marco, I’ll be back!”

“Okay then…”

Ace doesn’t follow you out of his room, just watching you go as you close the door. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on, but believes you when you say it’s because you still aren’t well. He knows Marco will take care of you and get you back to 100% in no time, though he wonders if what he said about maybe not wanting kids is the cause. He knows he might change his mind later on, maybe, but right now, he’s not confident that it’s something he wants. He doesn’t want anything like what happened with his own parents to happen to you and your child, it wouldn’t be fair to you or them if anything were to happen to him.

He knows it might become a make or break deal later on, but he hopes and prays he has time to really think about it and make a decision before you just end your relationship. But he also hopes you wouldn’t do that for this one thing, even if it means you have to make a compromise somewhere. Whatever that might be Ace isn’t sure, hopefully it’ll be years down the road before you have to make any kind of decision together about it.

For now, he’s going to unpack his bag while you’re gone, his whole focus being on you and getting some much needed alone time together had distracted him. He had to get somethings put away and a few gifts for you hidden for your birthday later on.

Especially the engagement ring Luffy and Sabo helped him pick out for you. He can’t let you see that quite yet.

You don’t go to Marco actually, you run for the nearest bathroom and try to keep quiet, you don’t want Ace to hear you and get more worried. He probably thinks you’re just getting Marco to help your stomach calm down and you’ll go back to him, but the whole situation has you upset even when you kept that from him.

He's not sure he wants kids, why should he be? You’ve heard his story, you know who his biological father was, you understand why he wouldn’t be sure about it. Ace knows your plans to have kids, to be a mother one day, and he’s always respected that, he’s told you he thinks you’ll be great at it. He’s never believed it should be with him, even though he’s not told you that, you wonder if he thinks he’s not good enough for that kind of life.

It makes you feel worse to think about that, to think he doesn’t believe he deserves to have a family one day.

Of course he’s not sure about having kids, why would he be? We’re only twenty and we’ve only been together a few months, damn it.

It makes sense to you, it does, but you really had thought that maybe you two starting a relationship would let Ace see you want that with him, no one else. Before you found out you were pregnant you thought maybe the two of you could adopt if something came up where Ace didn’t want biological children or you couldn’t have kids yourself.

But things have changed and you just have to hope that Ace will think about it more than he has.

You quickly wash your face and rinse your mouth several times before you leave and decide to check with Marco anyway, but end up running right into Izo before you get too far. The concerned look he gives you makes you nervous as you laugh and apologize for running into him.

“Hey, Izo, what’s u—”

“Are you pregnant?”

Your eyes widen just a bit, before you laugh nervously and wave your hands, trying to brush it off while he looks at you. He knows and you’re scared he’ll tell Ace, so you try to lie your way out.

“W-what?!” You score and glance away, it only makes him narrow his eyes at you, “No…who told you that?? That’s so ridiculous! I’m not—”

“Why are you still sick then? Marco said you should be well by now.”

“W-Well—”

“This all started while Ace was gone, yes?” You start to shrink away, leaning against the wall as Izo watches you start to let your walls about it down, sliding yourself to the floor, “You’ve been sick for weeks now if that’s the case.”

“It…it’s the flu, I’m not—"

“Its not the flu, its morning sickness, isn’t it?” Izo sighs to himself as you keep looking away, he can’t believe he didn’t notice it sooner, “Did you forget I was around when Lady Toki was pregnant and gave birth? I know it was a long time ago but I do remember such things!”

That had slipped your mind, Izo probably would have kept this secret for you too if you’d told him. You slightly nod, Izo isn’t shocked, he was one of the people betting you’d have a baby before getting married anyway, but he’s wondering more about how long you’ve known about this and starts to question you about your surprise pregnancy and if Ace knows yet. When you shake your head at that answer, he raises an eyebrow before a thought hits him and he nods.

“You found out while he was away then.”

“Yeah…I didn’t…I honestly thought I just had the flu or something.”

“I see. When—”

“Please, Izo, don’t tell anyone. I…I’m going to tell Ace in a few days, I swear, I just don’t want anyone else to know before he does…”

The pleading look you give him makes Izo sigh but with a light smile as he nods. He’d never take that away from you, allowing you to make your own decision on when and how to tell Ace about your pregnancy. It’s soon, probably sooner than you ever thought it would be, but he can already imagine you and Ace being amazing parents, how everyone is going to dote on your baby and help raise them. It’s been so long since there’s been a baby on board, he wonders if anyone remembers how to even care for a baby let alone hold one properly, but Izo also knows that once it’s out to everyone, Marco will start helping prepare everyone for this change.

“Everyone will be happy for you two.”

“…I’m just hoping Ace will be happy…”

“He will be,” before you can say anything else Izo takes your hand and helps you stand back up right, giving you a hug, “It may take him a bit, but I know Ace will be happy to have a child with you, even if he’s not sure about it yet. Everything will be fine.”

Part of you wishes people would stop saying that, but you’re also glad for all the reassurances from those who know. They’re more positive than you ever could have expected or asked for, they give you hope that Ace really will be excited when you tell him, despite what he said earlier about how unsure he is regarding having children.

Everything will be okay, even if it might be as while before everyone is settled and accepting. What’s more important is that you tell Ace soon and get his reaction, after that you can worry about what to do next.

Izo questions you a bit more after that, before letting you go back to Ace, he just wants to be completely up to date on everything and know how he can help. All you ask is again that he doesn’t tell anyone, that’s all you need right now.

You’ll tell Ace soon, then everyone else. You won’t keep it private too much longer.

+!+

A few days later at dinner, everyone is getting rowdy and drinking, celebrating your birthday and everyone making you laugh more than normal. It helps you forget about your worries regarding you’re pregnancy, you’ll ignore it for now and focus more on the smiles and pecks on the cheek Ace gives you every now and then, your attempted conversation forgotten about for the time being. Ace told you he’d think more about it, and you said you wouldn’t push him or anything like that. The compromise is enough for now for both of you, even with your secret, you aren’t going to worry too much right now, not until you’re ready to tell him.

Tonight you aren’t going to think about it, you’re focused on your family celebrating you, everyone so happy to still have you around and giving you the gifts they carefully picked for you. Ace said he’ll give his gift to you later, some people end up taking it the wrong way and give whistles and shouts, making you roll your eyes as your face heats up. It makes Ace laugh before he plants a kiss on your cheek again, promising it’s something better than what everyone else thinks.

When Thatch comes by with drinks, he makes sure once again to keep alcohol away from you, passing you a water that you accept gratefully and it makes Ace furrow his brow.

“You’re not drinking again?”

You shake your head, giving a smile.

“Not today, I want to remember everything.”

“One drink wont knock you down, you can handle it!”

“I--no, I’m okay, Ace, really!”

No one says anything about it, instead staying deep in their own conversations. Ace doesn’t understand why you’ve been abstaining so much lately, every time he tries to get you to drink you reject it, it makes him wonder if something happened while he was gone that made you stop entirely. You haven’t told him anything, neither has Marco or anyone else, maybe you’ve just decided to cut back heavily for some other reason.

Ace lets it go for a bit, before he gets another drink and tries once more to get you to take just a sip from his cup. He questions you again when you shake your head, but before you can say anything, you hear Teech laugh and make a suggestion that makes you freeze up.

“Ha, maybe she’s pregnant!”

It makes Ace rolls his eyes, not noticing that you’re anxiously looking at him, like you expect him to know just from that.

“No she’s not, shut up.”

“I’m just saying it’s possible,” Teech takes a drink, while you pray he doesn’t say anything more or Ace just doesn’t take anything he says to heart, “We’ve all seen her sneaking out of your room most nights anyway!”

It's starting to get to you, you never cared if anyone else saw you slipping out of Ace’s room or the two of you leaving together in the mornings. No one ever said anything or made any comments, most of them did it out of respect for your privacy, though some did make suggestive faces towards you both early on, it’s all stopped over time. It’s quickly been replaced by everyone treating you both normally, the bets you don’t know about taking over private conversations for the time being.

Well, its stopped by everyone but Teech now. You’d usually be embarrassed by talk of your sex life but the comment about your still unrevealed pregnancy makes you upset, to the point you’re starting to get mad more than anything and glaring at Teech to try and make him stop talking before anything comes out too early.

“Shut up, Teech.”

“What? Everyone knows you and Ace have been going at it like—”

“I said, shut up!”

Everyone quiets as you yell, those who had been listening understand what exactly is going on but don’t say anything yet. Ace jumps when you slam your hands on the table and stand up, he’s never seen you set such an awful glare on someone like you are Teech right now, but it makes the wheels in his head start to turn and he starts piecing everything together. You never get this upset about some teasing, even if it’s a joking suggestion that you might be pregnant. Another crewmate made a joke about it early on, before you and Ace ever even slept together the first time, and it made you laugh, commenting back about how your parents were right, kissing boys made you pregnant.

But this time you’re visibly angry about it, it’s an obvious joke from Teech, he’s always been the one to make crude comments about sex and relationships, you and Ace have never been spared from this, especially when everyone figured out you started having sex. While some gave you two looks, Marco telling you to be careful (that worked out well), and Teech making comments you don’t dare repeat and have tried to wipe from your memory. Ace did everything he could to make it stop, you both thought it was over with when you hadn’t heard anything in the last couple months, but for some reason, your reaction to the suggestion of pregnancy has you mad, so Ace has to stop and think.

Teech tries to defend himself as Ace keeps thinking, everything starting to make more sense and fall into place in his mind. You being sick for so long, asking about having kids, not drinking with him, you pushed him off you the other night when he started handsy and said you weren’t in the mood, which he respected but now he’s realizing what it is that made you stop him.

“…are you pregnant?”

Ace is quiet when he asks, but it’s what gets you out of your anger, making you look back at him and he sees the tears starting to form in your eyes. Marco tries to step in, telling you to settle down because this isn’t good for you, getting worked up and stressed. You look so upset, while Ace is in shock and just staring at you, everyone around you two has completely quieted and looks between you two.

You can’t even bring yourself to speak, this isn’t how this was supposed to go, you weren’t ready to tell him yet! It was going to be a surprise when you did tell him, you had a plan, this isn’t fair!

“I…”

“Babe—”

“I’m sorry!”

You take off before Ace can say anything else, Marco calls for you but everyone else stays put. No one wants to be the first to say anything, they’re not sure if they should congratulate Ace or just keep their mouths shut, but eventually Marco sighs and sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

“Come with me.”

It takes Ace a moment before he can move, he knows he should’ve followed you out, he needs to know if you really are pregnant or if it’s just a suspicion you have, though the way Marco is acting tells him you have to be sure already. That’s probably why he wants to talk to him, Marco knows and is going to give Ace all the information he can, so he finally gives in and follows him out. Ace hates seeing you upset and crying, it’s not fair to you that this got out the way it did. He knows you, he’s sure you were planning something cute to do for your announcement, but now it’s all been ruined.

Ace feels sick, he’s upset for you, but he really needs to know how real this is, it could still be a misunderstanding. He’s pretty sure it’s not after the scene that just unfolded, but there’s still a part of him that thinks it might be as he follows Marco.

Once Ace and Marco leave, everyone lets out the breath they were holding before looking at Teech with glares. While some had their suspicions from how you’ve been acting, others had accidentally overheard you talking to Marco or Thatch about it, not one of them wanted to say anything. It wasn’t their place and they all knew you’d eventually say something when you were ready, or Ace would blurt it out at some point, they weren’t sure about how it would go.

All they knew was that it was now out there due to Teech and no one was happy about it.

“…I didn’t think she was actually pregnant.”

There’s several sighs and groans, while Izo and Thatch give the glares they could to Teech, causing him to shrink away just a bit for ruining your plans with his big mouth.

“Shut up, Teech.”

+!+

“She’ll be ten weeks along in a few days.”

“I can’t believe this…”

The sonogram image in his hands just makes Ace anxious yet excited, what he can’t believe is that it’s your baby he’s looking at, his baby on top of that. His heart is racing over this despite the sick feeling he has, this explains why you had asked him about having kids, why you’ve still had, what seemed to be, random bouts of sickness still, even though Marco had said you should be totally fine now.

But now it all makes sense. You haven’t been sick with the flu, you’re pregnant and it’s morning sickness that’s been getting to you so often. That’s why you rejected every time Ace tried to get you to drink, it’s why you didn’t want to do anything the other night, why you ran off the other day after you tried to ask about having kids.

He feels terrible that your secret got out, that you didn’t get the chance to tell him yourself, but looking at the sonogram he feels so excited.

“Do we know what—”

“Too early to tell the sex, in a few weeks we can do a blood test to see and then another sonogram later to confirm,” Marco smiles seeing Ace nod, it seems like he’s still coming to terms with this but he doesn’t look too upset, “She’s been worried about telling you, thought you were gonna get mad at her.”

“I’d never do that!”

“That’s what I said, but with this situation she wasn’t thinking straight.”

Hearing that makes Ace feel bad, you shouldn’t be that scared about telling him, he’s never yelled at you about anything. It’s not his personality and he hates the idea of hurting you that way, you two have always talked through any issues you’ve had and come to compromises or agreements, like you did recently with the whole having kids thing.

Oh.

Oh that explains why you ran off after asking and he said he didn’t want kids. You were scared and it made you sick, Ace realizes that makes so much more sense now. He should’ve tried to explain it better, that he wasn’t sure about having kids, not just that he flat out doesn’t want them. If you’d been able to talk about that sooner, maybe you would’ve been a little more careful not having to worry about this now.

“Ace, you know she’s wanted this forever now.”

Ace nods, still staring at the sonogram image. There’s so much you two have to discuss now, he needs to make sure you’re okay and that you know he’s not going anywhere. Even if he hadn’t planned to ask you to marry him, he’d still stick around hearing that you’re pregnant. He may not be sure of how good he’ll do as a dad, but if this is what you want, what you’ve always wanted, he’s going to stay with you and help you through everything. Nothing would change that, he really hopes you understand that already.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but—”

“I gotta go talk to her,” Ace stands up quickly and hands the sonogram back to Marco, “I gotta make sure [Y/N]’s okay and tell her I can’t wait for this.”

“Really? You’re okay with it?”

“Yeah, I…” sighing, Ace smiles a bit while Marco watches him, “I’m scared as hell I’m gonna screw up, but I think…I think we’ll be okay.”

“You’re not gonna screw up,” Marco laughs and pats his shoulder, “You guys have all of us here, we’ll make sure your kid doesn’t end up like you.”

“Hey—”

“You better go and talk to her, she’s been anxious about everything for almost two weeks now.”

“Yeah,” there’s a grin on his face as Ace nods once more, turning to leave, “I’ll take care of it, thanks Marco.”

+!+

Ace knows you ran off to his room to hide, even though its not the best place since again, it’s his room, but he’s not mad about it. You’ve always gone there when you were upset about something, this isn’t a surprise to him. You’ve mostly calmed down by the time he gets there, though you don’t look towards the door when you hear it open.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

Ace feels like his heart breaks when you sniffle, rubbing at your eyes and shrugging. He hates seeing you cry, always has, but he feels worse about it now than he ever has. You’re embarrassed and upset, you didn’t want someone else to blurt it out, he shouldn’t have tried getting you to drink as much as he did, maybe you could’ve told him later that night if he hadn’t. He feels like it’s all his fault this happened, though, he knows that it definitely is partly because of him that everything is going to change.

You’re pregnant, Ace really thought you guys were being careful and safe, but apparently not. Ace wonders if you didn’t tell him because you were scared or didn’t want to have a baby with him, maybe you thought he’d get mad at you and break up with you. He’d never do that but maybe you weren’t thinking straight after finding out, you got worried and let negative thoughts overtake your mind.

You should be happy and excited, not scared and worried, Ace realizes that. He starts to look around his room while you keep your eyes on the floor, expecting him to end your relationship or something like that.

“Ace—”

“We’re gonna have to find a place for a crib, huh?”

“…what?”

“Or, hm, what’s that other thing called?” Ace starts thinking, while you’re sitting there stunned and staring at him like he has two heads, “Oh…the bed for babies that sometimes looks all frilly and stuff…”

“A…a bassinet?”

“Yeah, that! We’re gonna have to move things around,” you give Ace a confused look as he starts trying to get an idea of how to rearrange the room, “Maybe…we can move the dresser to this other corner, our bed can go against this wall, and—”

“Wait stop, you…you’re okay with this?”

Ace gives you a grin, tilting his head.

“Should I not be?” he’s still grinning when he finally walks over, crouching in front of you and reaching a hand to your cheek, “A baby with the girl of my dreams…what could be better?”

“I…you said you didn’t—”

“I know, I know,” Ace nods with a small smile, he shouldn’t said something earlier but it was your birthday and he didn’t want to interrupt your day, “When you asked, I had already started thinking about it, but you just surprised me and I kind of…”

“Freaked out?”

“Ha, yeah, I guess so. It was like you could read my mind and I was worried you’d think it was too soon if I said yes.”

“Ace,” you roll your eyes a bit with a smile, “We had feelings for each other for how long before we got together?”

Ace laughs, nodding and knowing what you meant. It seems only natural that you two would skip a few steps and go right to having kids, you’ve known and loved each other long enough. What does it matter if you’re not married yet, who really cares?

He's still going to ask you to marry him, but right now, it’s not a major concern for either of you.

“Good point, but I was still worried. So…I kind of lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You’d never scare me off, Ace.”

He nods again, smiling as you start to relax more, your own smile showing and it makes Ace happy to see you’ve calmed down some. He knows you’re still worried and anxious, but he hopes he can help you realize that it’s okay, he’s not mad or going to leave you. He’s staying with you, he's going to help you raise your baby no matter what happens, he’s going to protect the two of you and keep you safe.

“If it’s a girl, I hope she’s just like her mom.”

The comment doesn’t fully register at first, but it makes you roll your eyes again.

“If it’s a boy he’s going to be just like you, which means I’m in trouble.”

“Trouble?? You sure about that??”

You don’t get to respond back before Ace, carefully, hugs you tight and knocks you back onto his bed, making you laugh as he kisses your face and holds you close. Once you’ve both settled down, his comment about you having a girl finally hits you, you look up at Ace with a smile.

“You’re happy?”

“Of course I am,” the grin he gives almost makes you cry, but Ace stops that with another kiss before laying his head against your stomach, “Can’t believe our baby’s in there…you’ll be a great mom.”

It gets you more choked up, you can’t help it but don’t want to cry too loud. You don’t want Ace to think he’s upset you, so you stroke his hair a bit, taking a few breaths to calm yourself down before you speak again.

“You’re gonna be a great dad, Ace.”

Ace doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he hugs you a little tighter and quietly says he’ll do his best for the both of you, pressing a kiss to your belly.

“I won’t let you down, I promise.”

Although everyone on board knows now, you’re sure those who heard have spread it to everyone that wasn’t around or listening by now, you’ve still got to let Whitebeard know later. You know he’s definitely going to be happy for you and Ace, just like everyone else has been so far.

Ace eventually sits up and gives you a grin that makes you tilt your head at him.

“I’ve got to call Luffy and Sabo! They’re going to be so surprised!”

While Ace hurries off the bed to get his transponder snail and call his brothers, you shake your head with a laugh before you follow after him. The excitement you hear from the two over the receiver makes you both happy and more excited than you already were. You may not have been planning this to happen for a while longer, but you’ve accepted that it’s going to happen and you can’t wait to see how Ace is as a father.

You know he’s going to do his best and he’ll do everything to keep you both safe and happy.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #request

353 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 10 months ago

Text

Neo-Nazis and white supremacists are sharing Hitler-related propaganda and trying to recruit new members on TikTok, according to a new report from the Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD) shared exclusively with WIRED. The TikTok algorithm is also promoting this content to new users, researchers found, as extremist communities are leveraging the huge popularity of TikTok among younger audiences to spread their message.

The report from ISD details how hundreds of extremist TikTok accounts are openly posting videos promoting Holocaust denial and the glorification of Hitler and Nazi-era Germany, and suggesting that Nazi ideology is a solution to modern-day issues such as the alleged migrant invasion of Western countries. The accounts also show support for white supremacist mass shooters and livestream-related footage or recreations of these massacres. Many of the accounts use Nazi symbols in their profile pictures or include white supremacist codes in their usernames.

Nathan Doctor, an ISD researcher who authored the report, says he began his investigation earlier this year when he came across one neo-Nazi account on TikTok while conducting research for another project.

He was quickly able to unmask a much broader network of accounts that appeared to be actively helping each other through liking, sharing, and commenting on each other’s accounts in order to increase their viewership and reach.

The groups promoting neo-Nazi narratives are typically siloed in more fringe platforms, like Telegram, the encrypted messaging app. But Telegram has become a place to discuss recruitment techniques for TikTok specifically: White supremacist groups there share videos, images, and audio tracks that members can use, explicitly telling other members to cross-post the content on TikTok.

“We posted stuff on our brand new tiktok account with 0 followers but had more views than you could ever have on bitchute or twitter,” one account in a Neo-Nazi group posted on Telegram about their outreach on TikTok. “It just reaches much more people.”

Others have followed suit. One prominent neo-Nazi has often asked his thousands of Telegram followers to “juice,” or algorithmically boost, his TikTok videos to increase their viral potential.

An extremist Telegram channel with 12,000 followers urged members to promote the neo-Nazi documentary Europa: The Last Battle by blanketing TikTok with reaction videos in an effort to make the film go viral. Researchers from ISD found dozens of videos on TikTok featuring clips from the film, some with over 100,000 views. “One account posting such snippets has received nearly 900k views on their videos, which include claims that the Rothschild family control the media and handpick presidents, as well as other false or antisemitic claims,” the researchers wrote.

This is far from the first time the role that TikTok’s algorithm plays in promoting extremist content has been exposed. Earlier this month, the Global Network on Extremism and Technology reported that TikTok’s algorithm was promoting the “adoration of minor fascist ideologues.” The same researchers found last year that it was boosting Eurocentric supremacist narratives in Southeast Asia. Earlier this month, WIRED reported how TikTok’s search suggestions were pushing young voters in Germany towards the far-right Alternative for Germany party ahead of last month’s EU elections.

“Hateful behavior, organizations and their ideologies have no place on TikTok, and we remove more than 98 percent of this content before it is reported to us,” Jamie Favazza, a TikTok spokesperson tells WIRED. “We work with experts to keep ahead of evolving trends and continually strengthen our safeguards against hateful ideologies and groups.”

Part of the reason platforms like TikTok have in the past been unable to effectively clamp down on extremist content is due to the use of code language, emojis, acronyms, and numbers by these groups. For example, many of the neo-Nazi accounts used a juice box emoji to refer to Jewish people.

“At present, self-identified Nazis are discussing TikTok as an amenable platform to spread their ideology, especially when employing a series of countermeasures to evade moderation and amplify content as a network,” the researchers write in the report.

But Doctor points out that even when viewing non-English-language content, spotting these patterns should be possible. “Despite seeing content in other languages, you can still pretty quickly recognize what it means,” says Doctor. “The coded nature of it isn't an excuse, because if it's pretty easily recognizable to someone in another language, it should be recognizable to TikTok as well.”

TikTok says it has more than “40,000 trust and safety professionals” working on moderation around the globe, and the company says its Trust and Safety Team has specialists in violent extremism who constantly monitor developments in these communities, including the use of new coded language.

While many of the identified accounts are based in the US, Doctor found that the network was also international.

“It's definitely global, it's not even just the English language,” Doctor tells WIRED. “We found stuff in French, Hungarian, German. Some of these are in countries where Naziism is illegal. Russian is a big one. But we even found things that were a bit surprising, like groups of Mexican Nazis, or across Latin America. So, yeah, definitely a global phenomenon.”

Doctor did not find any evidence that the international groups were actively coordinating with each other, but they were certainly aware of each others’ presence on TikTok: “These accounts are definitely engaging with each others' content. You can see, based on comment sections, European English-speaking pro-Nazi accounts reacting with praise toward Russian-language pro-Nazi content.”

The researchers also found that beyond individual accounts and groups promoting extremist content, some real-world fascist or far-right organizations were openly recruiting on the platform.

Accounts from these groups posted links in their TikTok videos to a website featuring antisemitic flyers and instructions on how to print and distribute them. They also boosted Telegram channels featuring more violent and explicitly extremist discourse.

In one example cited by ISD, an account whose username contains an antisemitic slur and whose bio calls for an armed revolution and the complete annihilation of Jewish people, has shared incomplete instructions to build improvised explosive devices, 3D-printed guns, and “napalm on a budget.”

To receive the complete instructions, the account holder urged followers to join a “secure groupchat” on encrypted messaging platforms Element and Tox. Doctor says that comments under the account holder’s videos indicate that a number of his followers had joined these chat groups.

ISD reported this account, along with 49 other accounts, in June for breaching TikTok’s policies on hate speech, encouragement of violence against protected groups, promoting hateful ideologies, celebrating violent extremists, and Holocaust denial. In all cases, TikTok found no violations, and all accounts were initially allowed to remain active.

A month later, 23 of the accounts had been banned by TikTok, indicating that the platform is at least removing some violative content and channels over time. Prior to being taken down, the 23 banned accounts had racked up at least 2 million views.

The researchers also created new TikTok accounts to understand how Nazi content is promoted to new users by TikTok’s powerful algorithm.

Using an account created at the end of May, researchers watched 10 videos from the network of pro-Nazi users, occasionally clicking on comment sections but stopping short of any form of real engagement such as liking, commenting, or bookmarking. The researchers also viewed 10 pro-Nazi accounts. When the researchers then flipped to the For You feed within the app, it took just three videos for the algorithm to suggest a video featuring a World War II-era Nazi soldier overlayed with a chart of US murder rates, with perpetrators broken down by race. Later, a video appeared of an AI-translated speech from Hitler overlaid with a recruitment poster for a white nationalist group.

Another account created by ISD researchers saw even more extremist content promoted in its main feed, with 70 percent of videos coming from self-identified Nazis or featuring Nazi propaganda. After the account followed a number of pro-Nazi accounts in order to access content on channels set to private, the TikTok algorithm also promoted other Nazi accounts to follow. All 10 of the first accounts recommended by TikTok to this account used Nazi symbology or keywords in their usernames or profile photos, or featured Nazi propaganda in their videos.

“In no way is this particularly surprising,” says Abbie Richards, a disinformation researcher specializing in TikTok. "These are things that we found time and time again. I have certainly found them in my research."

Richards wrote about white supremacist and militant accelerationist content on the platform in 2022, including the case of neo-Nazi Paul Miller, who, while serving a 41-month sentence for firearm charges, featured in a TikTok video that racked up more than 5 million views and 700,000 likes during the three months it was on the platform before being removed.

Marcus Bösch, a researcher based in Hamburg University who monitors TikTok, tells WIRED that the report’s findings “do not come as a big surprise,” and he’s not hopeful there is anything TikTok can do to fix the problem.

“I’m not sure exactly where the problem is,” Bösch says. “TikTok says it has around 40,000 content moderators, and it should be easy to understand such obvious policy violations. Yet due to the sheer volume [of content], and the ability by bad actors to quickly adapt, I am convinced that the entire disinformation problem cannot be finally solved, neither with AI nor with more moderators.”

TikTok says it has completed a mentorship program with Tech Against Terrorism, a group that seeks to disrupt terrorists’ online activity and helps TikTok identify online threats.

“Despite proactive steps taken, TikTok remains a target for exploitation by extremist groups as its popularity grows,” Adam Hadley, executive director of Tech Against Terrorism, tells WIRED. “The ISD study shows that a small number of violent extremists can wreak havoc on large platforms due to adversarial asymmetry. This report therefore underscores the need for cross-platform threat intelligence supported by improved AI-powered content moderation. The report also reminds us that Telegram should also be held accountable for its role in the online extremist ecosystem.”

As Hadley outlines, the report’s findings show that there are significant loopholes in the company’s current policies.

“I've always described TikTok, when it comes to far-right usage, as a messaging platform,” Richards said. “More than anything, it's just about repetition. It's about being exposed to the same hateful narrative over and over and over again, because at a certain point you start to believe things after you just see them enough, and they start to really influence your worldview.”

424 notes · View notes

mercif4l · 11 months ago

Text

𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 — kmg

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kim mingyu

word count: 3.5k

summary: sometimes it's hard to say what you want. sometimes, mingyu is just being insufferably coy.

content warning: more smut, slight angst, boyfriend!mingyu, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex), discussions about contraception, dacryphilia(?), dom/sub dynamics, slight degradation, pet names, sub!mingyu is losing his mind

a/n: hugely inspired by @highvern who made my soul sparkle when i read the 'teach me' series and then had to get all my feelings out in a self-indulgent gyu fic. ty once again to @beomcoups and @wonuwoe for being my champions <3 and for your patience! hope this is even a little bit as special for you to read as it was for me to write ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Broad, brawny, strapping young idol, Kim Mingyu. The very image of a gym rat, filling every space he enters twice the size of everyone else; A true BFG.

And a total mess beneath your gaze as you ride his fingers without rest, legs bucking you up every time he presses against your g-spot and sends stars flying up your body and out through your mouth.

Mingyu has always admired (envied, resented, adored) your self control. It makes him feel like a horny loser for never lasting as long as you do, and eternally grateful that he can stay hard after cumming just to feel you palpitate around him with your quiet, quivering sighs, launching him into another orgasm even more devastating than the last.

When you’d first got together and had the sex safety talk, you told him he could ‘just pull out’, and in that moment he’d felt relatively confident about his abilities. But then he’d felt you, and tasted you, and before you could even get your panties off, he was leaking more precum than felt humanly possible.

You’d agreed to take birth control to curb his crippling fear of coming inside unexpectedly. And for your own peace of mind. Which seemed easier settled than his, frighteningly resigned to the side effects that birth control might bring — a concern he wouldn’t let you neglect, encouraging you to attend regular check ups every other month.

Eventually you told him that while it was endearing he cared so much, it could feel a little overbearing from time to time. It still took a boat load of convincing to get him on board with the pill. You’d said you knew the risks, and while it was unfair there was no male equivalent, you’d shown no abnormal reaction to the pill and were an adult; you knew well enough how to take care of yourself. How you cared a whole lot about your body, and his misled doting could border on condescension if he wasn’t careful.

(He’d put on a brave face for your conversation, never wanting to make it about himself, then cried to his mom on the phone later that day about how selfish he’d been. She told him to get over it and to try being a woman.)

Perhaps if he was a woman he’d be in less pain right now. Watching you wind down over a glass of wine like he wasn’t sulking up a fit, his cock so hard that it crooned against his boxers.

Despite his size and laid-back demeanor, he’s always been a bit bashful. Blushing at the slightest pinch of attention and covering his face with his jersey over some good-natured teasing. It was too bad he’d made himself such an easy target over the years. Any attempt to become non-chalant was at odds with every preexisting relationship in his life and was imminently met with even more teasing.

Still, no one makes him feel as embarrassed as you do. It’s like a sick cycle. You peek one second too long at his lips and his ears turn pink, making you grin, filling his chest with a familiar ache and making his dick purr.

“Excited, Gyu?” you’d asked him just an hour ago, sat squished together on the lounge loveseat. Your hand poised on his thigh as he tried not to salivate over your compliments. You’d just been doting on him over his latest interview, head heavy with giggles as you rolled around and gushed about your ‘gorgeous boyfriend’ . You’d been particularly tickled by the discussion of ‘Men in their 20s’, Mingyu’s input being as loathing as you’d expect. Once you’d had your fun imitating his exasperated response, you pet his hair like he was a well-trained dog and scratched under his chin for good measure.

That’s where this particular spiral started.

The bristle of your nails against the hollow of his jaw left him struggling not to pant. It hadn’t been two days since you’d last touched him, and already he was feeling a little lightheaded. This didn’t stop him from tucking his tail between his legs and pretending to be a good, placid, boy. Eyes all round and twinkling like a deer in headlights; mouth agape as he tries to say that dinner is in the fridge and he’d happily heat it up for you as soon as you’d—

Then, you’d raked those same hands over his neck. And like a never-before-touched-40-year-old-virgin, he let out a pornographic whimper, curling into you with legs spread just wide enough to display the stiff beneath his shorts.

“My puppy, what’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, he purses his lips and takes a few short, constricted breaths. Closing his eyes as if he can will this whole situation away (or to a head) by pretending it doesn’t exist.

“Can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, Gyu.”

It was his least practiced skill: just fucking saying what he wants. He’s always too caught up in how turned on you make him or how vulnerable he feels. How deeply he enjoys the way you look at him with the eyes of a predator, and how hot he gets at the thought of being your prey.

“Gyu. Slow down.” For a man with the body mass Mingyu possesses, he’s always had a lack of spatial awareness. Bumping into the kitchen island every other morning; bonking heads in the elevator when he tries to give you a forehead kiss; generally not noticing injuries until he’s flexing in the bathroom mirror and a large bruise has appeared where once there was nothing.

His sex drive was no exception. He grinds against the cotton of his trousers without a single thought, even now as you lay your hand heavy against his throat and mock him for it.

“Such a desperate little puppy, can’t even breathe, humping yourself like a bitch in heat.”

With his airways partially blocked and his eyes squeezed shut, this friction feels almost as good as your hand might.

“Stop.” This time, the instruction is clear, the heel of your palm digging into his hip bone and forcing him to sit still. He trembles like an injured animal and you don’t hide your snort; the sound is like a bitter spirit left on his salivary glands and it only makes him more liquid in your arms.

“Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll help you, bug.”

“M’sorry, can’t…”

“Gyu.” It’s a firm warning and still he bites his tongue in resistance:

“I— Fuck… ngh, can’t, I can’t—“

Working himself up over something as simple as wanting to be touched… Well, it makes you wonder if he enjoys being punished. Tears already trail down his temples, thick and heavy as they fall into his damp hair, and every time you lick at the salty water he bucks up into nothing again.

There’s only one way this is going to end. At this rate, with how you’re repeating his favorite nickname in the arch of his ear, the idea of playing nonchalant seems hilarious. How could he ever stay quiet or, god forbid, composed with you around?

It wasn’t always this way, mind you. Communication was a huge part of your relationship. Of course that included acknowledging anything that made you feel ashamed or unattractive. Physical, taboo, emotional: when one of you got shy, you were given a week of grace to iron things out, then you’d have to face the music and let the other in. It didn’t matter how. Actually, there were an infinite amount of ways to sort things out and you were both sticklers for likelihoods and probabilities.

But after six months, Mingyu still couldn’t verbalize his needs. The two ways he’d express himself were whimpering at inopportune moments or folding his legs extra tight until you got the idea. Initially, it was endearing; even after all this time, it’s still sweet and adorable (and a little bit of a turn-on). It sure gave you ample ground to assert your dominance over him. It also gave you a lot to tease him about after the fact. But in some ways, it suffocated you. In some ways, it made you feel gross for controlling the narrative.

“Actually,” you reckon with a tone so disinterested he isn’t sure how to recognize it as your voice: “I don’t feel like this right now.”

Then you cross your legs and shuffle across the couch, plucking your phone from the coffee table to retreat inside of it. You’re sure there was an abandoned webtoon chapter to keep you distracted. Anything to quell the bile rising in your throat.

Before he has a moment to recognize how blue his balls are, Mingyu makes the most sorrowful sound you’ve ever heard. Your head whips around, and what you find is devastating: the big lug has his knees tucked to his chest with his hands squishing against his cheeks. His pearly teeth are gnashed together but barely visible behind his forearm as his shoulders shudder, up and down, up and down.

“Please, please, don’t stop… touching, me, need… Please don’t stop, want you— can you?” and when his begging ends in a whisper of your name, your resolve snaps. You slide onto the ground, hands weaseling between his knees as you look up at him through bleary eyes of your own.

“Gyu?”

“no, no, I’m sorry, I know. Know I’m the worst — so stupid,”

While you expect him to react poorly, this was not the way you’d wanted it to go. The tears that leave his eyes aren’t pleasant or cathartic-they’re crushing. The weight of his sobs makes him look so so small, and his shoulders twitch at your slightest touch, and now you feel even sicker. But you hold it in, knowing that there’s no way he’ll calm down without a steady hand guiding him.

“Mingyu, breathe baby. Breathe. Let’s just try to breathe together.”

It only takes a few rounds of counting in squares to wind him down, after which he wipes his tears roughly and clears his throat.

“Sorry for—“

“It’s okay to cry. I’m sorry for overwhelming you. And stopping so suddenly.” A small point of contact between you remains at the apex of his ankle and the soft of your hand. It’s not enough but it’s the only thing that reminds him to breathe.

“I know—know it’s okay to cry.”

You snuffle a giggle at his pouty response; “I know you know it’s okay to cry. But sometimes we don’t feel that way, y’know.”

God. You’re so stupidly smart. So patient with him. God, he’s in love with you. And he’s such a mess.

“Of course… Of course I want to say it,” he tries to avoid your gaze but the fingers now pressing on his calf won’t let him.

“Want to tell you what I want. But I’m really.. I’m so scared. Scared and not really of you, even though it’s kind of hot when I am, but something about it feels… wrong?”

You listen without interrupting him or egging him on, chuckling when it seems appropriate and nodding as he trips over his words in worry.

“Like I’m… being like, I dunno, I’m not being the man? Or… something.

His hesitation is filled with sniffles against the overpriced hoodie he’d purchased just a week before. He’ll curse himself out for that later, undoubtably. Good thing he has the knack for a good hand wash.

—But I want to… I wanna try. Can I try?”

“Now?”

“Mm… want you now.”

Hearing it from his mouth for the first time in so long sends a bright red flush all over you. Your head dips low as a coy grin replaces that wrinkle between your brows you’d been keeping warm. Mingyu settles his focus on your face to avoid any more distractions. The demure purse of your lips is more than enough to encourage him to continue. Even if he stutters in anticipation a bit along the way.

“So beautiful. I, I love your smile, makes me feel so warm and…weird? Good weird, just like I wanna kiss you all the time. And look at you smiling. And at the same time, smiling at me, and I love it when I feel your tongue on mine, fuck, when I feel your tongue at all”

His words flow freely as you stretch your legs over his and settle in his lap. His hands move in even strokes down your sides and arms and thighs, gently cupping your face as he admires you. Well, it certainly seems like he’s getting the hang of it.

“S’all I can think about when I get sweaty… So weird, but I get sweaty and I imagine you licking it off me, shit, look at how pretty you are, shit, shit,”

As he hears himself, he suddenly feels like he could wax poetic for hours (or ramble, whatever this was). If it meant making you look as pleased as you do right now, he’d happily make a living out of it.

“Can I touch you? So beautiful, wanna feel ya…” The drawl of his accent gets thicker as he rambles on.

“You sure, puppy?” After all that emotional exhaustion it feels a bit strange to be so intimate. The last thing you want is for him to smother his feelings with sex. But then you see the conviction in his flared nostrils and set lips; the very face he makes when you’ve had a bad day and insist everything is fine. When all he ever wants is an excuse to shower you with his love.

“Yes. F’you’ll let me?” And when he asks so nicely, who are you to deny him?

There’s a slight back and forth as he tries to unbutton your jeans as fast as possible and it all goes so quickly you don’t really register how awkward it is, wiggling out of them in his lap on the couch. But Mingyu’s athleticism never fails him, especially in moments like these.

The foray over your sticky panties has him searching maniacally for some purchase beneath you. He rubs and pulls and taps until you’re canting into his knuckles sporadically. By the time he’s pulled them to the side and gathers your wetness in his grip, he might be the hardest he’s ever been.

“God, gonna, wanna make you cum—can I please? Show you?”

It’s your turn now to be silent, nodding profusely into his cheek as you nibble at his earlobe. There’s one sentiment you refuse to voice in this moment, as the pad of his thumb zeroes in on your clit and drags it in circles: that you’re cooked. You’ve never been this wet in your life, and if you had an ounce of self-awareness left in you, you’d shudder at the slick mess you’ve made. Or the blown out pupils lolling to the back of your head. Or the saliva that drools down your chin in excess and slings onto his.

But Mingyu is no better: if you weren’t sitting atop him, a dangerous puddle of his own precum would be proudly on display. Somehow the thought turns him on even more.

“Could come like this, in my pants, nnghh, but I wanna, wanna do it while you ride my fingers, can you…”

“Fuck! Gyu, just gimme—“ The sentence dies before its finish as he takes your excited exclamation and sprints. The longest of his four fingers push into your hole to fit snugly against your walls, pulsing against him like they’re welcoming him home.

“Love feeling you on me, my fingers, my—nngh, my cock, made for me, made for you” It comes out a sadistic whine while he bullies them into you with that same doe eyed look.

“Got so much to do, wanna do, wanna make—“

“Gyu, s’good. So good. All mine.”

“Yours. All yours, f’you’ll have me? Have me?”

The words circulate from your empty head straight to your core and you swear, you could cry. He keeps pleading for you to have him and take him and the fever of it all overwhelms you.

In the fissure between the pit of your stomach and where all this untenable excitement likes to linger, something weird begins to coil. Heating so rapidly that you have no time to warn him of it. One moment you’re there, and then next, you’re not; You’re somewhere where there’s color as far as the eye can see, and all you can feel is bliss. Once you do manage to open your eyes, you notice the pool of liquid that now sticks his tank top and pants to his lower belly and thighs.

Well, shit. You just squirted. And in record time, Mingyu might add. Was this all he had to do to get you riled up? Just divulge his every wet dream and watch you crumble beneath (or atop) him?

You don’t even double take his soaked white shirt, now stuck to his abdomen with slick, or the dampened the seat of his pants that leave very little to the imagination. You’re wasted with the whiplash of everything that has just happened and truthfully, you couldn’t care less.

The only thing that brings reality back to your conscience is the continuing buck of his hips.

“My baby, did so good. You wanna cum?”

“Yes!” He’s squeaking at this point, a pile of incoherent pet names and wet moans. He could probably come in his pants if you hadn’t suggested otherwise, just happy to be in close proximity to you like this: Soaking his clothes and skin and all sweaty all over him.

Mingyu is so distracted by the image that he barely notices the sticky feelings of his trousers being pulled off.

“Hands are shaking, m’sorry, your hands—“

“I know Gyu. It’s okay.”

There’s no space for him to hold you til you’re steady—his primary concern—with your entrance fluttering over him, still reeling from your orgasm. An ache he didn’t even realize was there is relieved the moment you stretch around him. Welcoming him home. He really could die happy like this: admiring the curve of your chin from below and so, so warm. The image of you, anchoring yourself on his shoulders and hips settled between his, is one he’ll be haunted by forever.

“Go.” You say it with the last of your energy and a firm bite to his neck.

He doesn’t need any further instruction; he’s so fucking glad you’ll still tell him what to do.

The rhythm he sets is animalistic. Heaving and whining and fucking up into you with more force than you’d expected him to be capable of. Something feral takes over your boyfriend and you wish you had the energy to watch it. Maybe you’ll just have to do this all again with a camera filming. God, that would drive him absolutely insane.

With the pace and how worked up he’s become, it’s no surprise when he pulls out a few minutes later to come. Strong arms yank you down and suddenly you’re sat on top of his cock, grinding it against his stomach with his direction.

“Coming, I’m, nnngh fuck!” Mingyu’s voice rises about two octaves as he finishes in white all over his belly. It spurts out long enough for you to feel the aftershocks. In his shivering thighs, in his clenched abs, and the overstimulated cries that catch in his throat.

It may take a long time to recover, but you’re grateful for the break. When Mingyu stands from the couch with you in his arms, you already know he’s taking you to the shower. He strips you as carefully as he can muster and grimaces at the messes made of you both in the harsh overhead light.

“You shower first.” It’s the first thing you’ve said in a while and he seems bewildered; not just by your wary voice, but by the idea of taking care of himself before taking care of you. So cute, you think. But you refuse to let up. You take a towel from the heated rack and gather all of your clothes in it, holding the sack out as if to say ‘add it to the pile’. Once he’s naked you shove him gently towards the running water and drag yourself out to the laundry room. It only takes a few seconds before you hear those long feet shuffling behind you.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll be right back.”

A silence lingers and you know full well he hasn’t turned back just yet. Alright. You’ll coax him through this part.

“I’ll shower with you. Just make sure it’s warm for me?” He giggles at that. All it takes is making something a task for Mingyu to thrust himself into it, full force. The retreating footfall that follows is more than enough to make you smile. And laugh, just a bit.

“Thank you, Gyu.”

“Anything for you.”

penned by rowan. in reference to this interview among other things.

#mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu oneshot #kim mingyu #mingyu imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svt scenarios #kpop smut

460 notes · View notes

jewreallythinkthat · 11 months ago

Text

One of the reasons I think there has been such a breakdown between the "progressive" left and the Jewish community is actually something that I've watched before fostered in left wing spaces for well over a decade and that is looking for offence.

When someone says something antisemitic, that does not mean they are an antisemite. I remember when the BLM marches took place, people rightly pointed out that there is a lot of unconscious bias against PoC and that being called out for eating something you didn't realise was problematic does not mean you are actually racist, just that you need to think a bit more when talking about a subject which in many cases, doesn't affect you as such. The same principle should apply to antisemitism.

If I say someone has said something antisemitic, their first reaction (on the left wing - because the right will proudly nod that yes, it was antisemitic) is often "you're calling me an antisemite and trying to silence me, Zionist". This is not true. What I am saying is that you are saying something that is discriminatory, invoked blood libel, accused Jews of ruling the world etc etc. I fully believe most people do not realise they are doing this. The point of dog whistles is that you are not supposed to recognise them, that's how they propagate. Anti-jewish racism is one of the oldest forms of hatred and it stretches back multiple millennia so it makes sense that it's literally inside the common vernacular. That doesn't mean everyone using it is an antisemite.

Instead of immidiately jumping to the defensive, I wish people would take a moment to ask, in good faith, "why would a Jewish person find this antisemitic?" Take the opportunity to learn, to better themself. Do not assume every Jew is trying to silence you - assuming the worst every time of Jewish people is a type of antisemitism so please try and put yourself in their shoes and maybe even ask them to explain so you can do better in the future.

Just a general overview, here's a couple of ones to look out for (a non exhaustive list).

1. Replace the word "Zionist" in what has Ben said with "Jew". If it sounds like something leeched out of Nazi Germanh or the Soviet Union, it's probably going to be antisemitism.

2. Saying you don't think any country should exist but focusing exclusively on the destruction of Israel. The only thing that makes Israel unique is that it's a Jewish majority country. So why is that the only county you actively want to get rid of?

2.1 Holding Israel to a higher standard than any other country is antisemitic as laid out above in point 2.

3. Assuming the worst of Jews and Israel every time is antisemitism. It's no different to assuming Black people are always out to get you or all Muslims are terrorists. If it's racist to do this to one minority group, it is racist to do it to any.

4. Tokenizing extremists in a community (Ben Gvir and the West Bank settlers on the right wing in Israel, the Neturi Karta by the progressive left when discussing I/P) is racist. If you only listen to Jews who prove your point, you are actively excluding the majority of a community so you can beat them down, this is racist.

I don't like calling people antisemitic because most people are not actually that, what they are is uneducated on antisemetism because the majority of that education is not being done by Jews - let alone Jews who represent the majority of the community.

But if you refuse to talk to Jews in good faith when they try to explain why what you have said is antisemitic, you are running the risk of moving from "ignorant user of antisemetic language" to "antisemite" (also a note, ignorant not meaning stupid but rather that you do not know something).

#antisemitism #jumblr

536 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 2 months ago

Text

All the Debts I Owe

Sith!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary: A routine Rebellion meeting goes horribly wrong when the Empire discovers the coordinates, but the Force has other plans for you besides death and chaos. Enter none other than the Sith Lord who's become a perennial thorn in your side.

Word count: 3.8k

A note from the author: Hello there! It's been a while since I've actually written anything (like, six months), so I hope this is good! This fic is a part of my Rebel-verse, where reader is a Rebel and Anakin is Darth Vader, just without the crispiness and chopped-off limbs.

(Also, there are a couple of little Easter eggs in here that you'll hopefully pick up on if you've read my other works in this AU. Let me know when you find them!)

I sincerely hope you enjoy, and if you do, I'd love to hear from you! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks make my world go round :)

“...and the cost of fighter fuel will be supplemented by our trade alliance with Endor,” General Kessyk finishes reading from the tablet in front of her, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief when you realize that she’s reached the end of her prepared remarks.

The clock ticking loudly on the wall in the meeting room of the Rebel base on Mandalore has been the only thing keeping you from zoning out during the last half hour of the special session called by General Kessyk. When you joined the Rebel Alliance, you pictured your life to be nonstop action, fighting battles and gathering intelligence in the fight against the Galactic Empire. And sure, that’s been a good chunk of your time as a Rebel. But as you’ve climbed the ranks and slowly earned your way into a leadership position, you’ve come to the unfortunate realization that being in charge of the Rebellion involves a lot more administrative duties than you anticipated.

Including sitting through a boring budget meeting, of all things, to discuss how the Rebellion will be funded for the next half rotation.

Oona, your friend and second in command when your crew is out on a mission, nudges your side and slips a piece of paper into your hand. When you open it and look down to read the message, you have to hold in a burst of laughter. “Should I bring up the General’s shiny new robes and ask where the budget for that came from?” it reads.

“I don’t know what would be the worse reaction, her getting upset at your insubordination or her pulling out a detailed expenditure report,” you scribble quickly and hand it back to her.

Oona shoots you a cheeky grin and starts to write her own response, only for you both to be startled out of your merriment by the general calling your name.

“Yes, General?” you ask, pretending like you’ve been listening the entire time and definitely not forcing yourself to count each tick of the clock to keep from dozing off.

“I was inquiring about the status of your requested budget for the Jedi recruitment mission in the Outer Rim, Commander.” Though the Togruta tries to look stern, you can see the way that her lips just barely twitch as she tries to hide the soft spot she has for your antics. Kessyk has a tough exterior, indeed, but she fiercely loves those under her command, and has to often remind herself that she’s in charge.

“Of course.” You begin to pull up your (hastily completed last night) budget request when your heart seizes in your chest.

The Force screams danger! at you a split second before the unmistakable sounds of TIE fighters overhead ring in your ears. Red sirens alerting the base of adversaries start screeching, and everybody scrambles to well-rehearsed places to try and decipher what’s going on. You unclip your lightsaber and ignite it, as do a couple of other assembled Force users. It’s second nature at this point to assume command of a crisis situation, so you look to your trusted right-hand woman, already at a blaster cannon.

“Oona, set blasters to fire and send out a distress signal to the fleet!” She nods, and you focus on the next order of business: getting out there and fighting whatever it is that’s come to attack.

Unfortunately, bombs drop before you can even take a step, giving way to screaming and smoke and, eventually, silence.

•••

In the years since he eschewed the Jedi Order and turned to the Dark Side, Darth Vader has gotten very good at compartmentalizing. Restoring peace throughout the galaxy and carrying out the Emperor’s wishes could often be brutal and bloody, so he had to make sure that he wouldn’t crack under the strain of the horrors he both witnessed and carried out. It was a little like turning a switch on and off. Before a mission, the humanity that he held within him, that wish for no more death and destruction, was hidden away, instead replaced entirely by Sith values. He was then able to do what must be done without any hesitation.

(The aftermath of turning that switch back on and being faced with what he had done was horrific, but he secretly felt as though he deserved it—that it was his penance for all of the pain that he caused.)

There were times when compartmentalizing was easier said than done—killing the younglings all those years ago at the Jedi Temple, for example, had truly tested his newfound ability to do so. But there are other times, such as when intelligence points the Galactic Empire to a meeting of the top forces of the Rebel Alliance, that make it easy to shut a more humane part of him down and focus on the victory ahead. And now, as he stands aboard his destroyer and stares down at the smoldering carnage of the Rebellion’s Mandalore base, victory tastes sweet.

“Lord Vader, I have good news.” Admiral Batch, one of the few admirals not petrified of him, sidles up next to him. “The Rebels were caught completely off-guard, and as a result, we can confirm there have been over 20 casualties of high-ranking members of the Rebel Alliance.”

“Good news indeed,” Vader speaks through the modulator of his mask. “Are there any confirmed names that we can take back to the Emperor?”

“None for certain, until we can get down there and see identities for ourselves. We do know that General Kessyk was in the building, as well as a number of Force-sensitive Rebels.”

The moment that last fact actually registers with Darth Vader is the moment that his carefully constructed cruel facade collapses, allowing the Force to finally come screaming at him and tell him of the major mistake he’s made. How could he have not thought of the possibility that you, his Rebel, would be involved in this meeting? Through both Empire intelligence gatherings and the begrudging revelations from you that your responsibilities had been increasing due to your importance in the Rebellion, he should have made the connection that you were now one of those high-ranking members.

Instead, he allowed his anger and his passion to cloud his thinking until the only thing he could focus on was winning. It’s a move that has brought him pain countless times in the past, and now, it seeks to do so again. Vader has to force himself to remain calm, lest he lose control of his emotions and allow his connection to the Force to wreak havoc on his surroundings.

He takes a couple of deep breaths before feeling like he can speak in a level tone. “Thank you, Admiral Batch.”

The admiral bows his head in respect. “My lord,” he says, turning and heading back to the command center on the destroyer.

There’s not a moment to spare once the panel to the observation deck seals and leaves him alone. He needs to get down to the surface of Mandalore before any Stormtrooper teams can beat him there and start confirming the dead and injured. Darth Vader hurries back to his chambers, where he sheds his bulky uniform and switches into a set of unassuming robes. Clipping his lightsaber to his belt, he pulls his hood up over his head and proceeds to sneak out of the destroyer and into a cruiser—an easy feat when one has the Force on their side.

The Rebel base, once so well hidden in one of the capital’s abandoned industrial districts, is now completely exposed after the barrage of Empire bombs shelled through its defenses. Rubble and detritus are strewn in every direction, making his path to the coordinates of the meeting room that much more difficult to maneuver. Vader takes great care to stay hidden under any outcroppings of the ceiling still standing, hyperaware of the fact that he could be spotted at any moment.

When he finally reaches the room where the Rebellion’s best and brightest were meeting, he pauses as he takes in the carnage in front of him. It’s nowhere near the first time that he’s stood in a room full of bodies, their injuries and deaths partially (sometimes fully) attributed to him. But it is the first time that he’s been so concerned for the welfare of one of the potential bodies. Vader’s frantic eyes scan the faces of the dead and wounded, both hoping and not to see you among them. If he doesn’t see you, it either means that you’re somewhere safe and far away from here or that you’re buried so far under the wreckage that he’ll never be able to find you. Likewise, if he does see you, he’ll have concrete proof that you’re either alive…

…Or dead.

A pit opens up in his stomach at the mental image he’s unconsciously created, and he forces his eyes to work faster, to take in more and more information until there’s no doubt left for his mind to play with. Finally, in the corner of the room, he sees your face peeking out from behind a crumbling column. He has the briefest moment of deliberation, a ghost whispering in his ear that he’s gotten too wrapped up in this whole situation, persuading him to turn back now, cut his losses, and find something else to focus his attention on. Then there’s a pop and a sizzle, a chunk of ceiling breaking off and hitting a pile of embers across the room, and the ghost disappears.

It feels like Vader teleports with how fast he makes it to you, though that is not a skill that the Force grants. Falling to his knees at your side, his hand shakes as he places two fingers on your neck, terrified of the potential outcome when he tries to find a pulse. After a stressful few moments, he’s relieved to feel your pulse beating steadily under your skin. With the knowledge that you’re firmly alive in mind, he takes a moment to actually look you over.

You’re covered in blood and soot, making it difficult for him to determine where you’re injured. Your right arm is definitely broken, and it looks like your right ankle is, too. The extent of your injuries can be determined later by a medical droid. What matters now is that you’re alive, and that you’re stable.

Everything else is secondary.

•••

The first thing you realize upon waking up is that you have no memory of how you came to be in a position where you would need to wake up. The last thing you remember, you were trading notes with Oona to pass the time during a budget meeting. Now you’re here…if only you knew where ‘here’ was.

It’s more difficult for you to open your eyes than it normally is, and when you do finally pry them open, your blurry vision prevents you from discerning where you are. Picking a light source in the distance, you focus on that until the room finally comes into focus and you see that you’re surrounded by white. White walls, white floors, white counters. The logical part of your brain says that it could mean you’re in a medbay. But the logical part of your brain feels…fuzzy, almost. Like there’s a blanket of clouds settled over your consciousness and making silly notions like logic and reason fly somewhere far away

“Am I dead?” you ask yourself.

Somebody laughs at you from across the room, and you look to see none other than Darth Vader, sans mask and cape and all other vestments that he wears as a Sith Lord, strolling towards you. “No, thankfully.”

Blinking rapidly doesn’t get him to disappear in a mirage, but it does serve to dry out your already-unreliable eyes. “Well, now I really think that I might be dead.”

“Not if I had anything to say about it. Which, I did, and it’s why you’re not dead.”

A puff of air leaves your nose—it’s meant to come out as a laugh, but parts of your body seem to not want to cooperate today, so a puff of air is all you manage. The action makes your nose begin to itch fiercely, and as you jerkily lift your hand to alleviate the sensation, you’re stopped at the sight of the blue bacta cast that covers your arm from wrist to elbow.

“Oh.”

“The med droids did it,” he explains sheepishly, as though you might be mad at somebody attempting to heal what must be a significant injury. “Your right ankle is in a cast, too, as are your ribs. The report from the droid earlier said that your injuries are healing at the expected rate, so you should only need to be in them for a few more cycles.”

“What happened?” you mumble.

“What do you remember?” Vader asks.

“There was a meeting, and I was getting called out by Kessyk for not paying attention. Then…” you try to think, but the blanket of clouds presses down on you further and makes everything scatter. “Ugh, I feel funny.”

“Pretty sure you’re on some heavy painkillers right now.” He grabs a tablet from the end of your bed and looks at it. “You’re definitely on some heavy painkillers right now,” he amends.

“How did I get injured enough to need enough drugs to take down a bantha?”

“The Empire received intelligence that some high-ranking members of the Rebellion would be meeting on Mandalore, and the decision was made to carry out a bombing mission. I didn’t even begin to think that you were one of those high-ranking members until after the bombs had been dropped.”

“Wow, you don’t think I’m good enough at my job to be a high-ranking Rebel?” If you had full control over yourself right now, you would be slapping a horrified hand over your mouth and begging yourself to shut up. Instead, you giggle (oh, the horror) at Vader’s panicked expression and bat at his hands with your own uninjured one. “I’m just messing with you. We both know that I’m really good at my job.”

“We do,” he agrees before continuing. “I couldn’t just leave without knowing if you were there, so I commandeered a fighter and went down myself. When I saw you laying there, injured…I wouldn't leave you to whatever your fate might have been if I hadn’t interfered. So I brought you here, to my fortress on Mustafar, to recover.”

A med droid interrupts your conversation when it begins to do a routine round through the medbay and sees that you’re awake. You allow it to poke and prod you, checking your vitals and doing whatever scans it needs, aware the whole time of Vader watching you. His stare is unwavering, closely supervising the droid as though it might rebel against its circuitry and try to harm you instead of heal you. When the droid chirps at him, he glares.

“I am letting you do your job, 21-B,” he huffs.

More chirping, followed by a whistle.

“That’s uncalled for.”

“You can understand it?” you ask, watching the scene in front of you with amusement.

“I’ve been able to understand droids since I was a young boy. For better or for worse.”

When 21-B beeps, even you can tell it's displeased. Vader rolls his eyes and proceeds to argue with the droid a bit longer before turning to you.

“Your temperature is starting to rise a little, and 21-B’s worried it’s an early sign of infection. He wants to give you some medicine to combat that. Is that alright?” You’re a little surprised that Vader is both taking the time to explain the droid’s requests to you and making sure that you consent to the care plan.

You nod, and 21-B begins to fiddle with the IV in your hand before injecting what you assume is the needed medicine into your line. There must be a sedative effect to this medication as well, because your body quickly begins to feel like gravity is no longer going to be able to hold you down anymore. You try to fight the way that your eyes flutter, willing yourself to keep focused on Vader. There are still so many questions you have that need answered!

“Do you know who died?” you ask quietly, using the stores of strength you still have within you to speak.

“Not for certain. There was…a lot of carnage when I came to find you. I couldn’t see who was alive and who wasn’t.”

“Oh.” Although such a revelation certainly warrants a better reaction, one syllable is all that you can muster.

Vader smiles just slightly at your struggle. “Focus on resting, and I’ll see if I can find answers for you, okay?”

You think you mutter an affirmative answer, but unconsciousness pulls at you before you can be sure.

Though it feels like you merely blink, when you open your eyes once more, the shadows in the medbay are much longer than they were when you last saw them. One glance around the room reveals Darth Vader sitting in a chair at the foot of your bed, watching something on a holocron. When he notices you struggle into a sitting position, he powers it off and tosses it on a counter behind him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“Better,” you respond truthfully. You feel a little stronger than you did earlier; your mind is markedly clearer, too.

“Good. The droid said that your temperature returned to normal about an hour ago.”

“That’s good.”

Even though you should be focused on yourself, asking more questions about your own prognosis, your mind is with your team and your fellow Rebels—or, you fear, what’s left of them.

“Did you…learn any of the names of the injured and dead?” you ask.

Vader nods and takes a deep breath (Does his face lose a little color? you wonder as you watch his expression for any clues). “I did. General Kessyk is dead.”

You’re almost expecting that answer, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. And in a normal circumstance, you would hide that hurt until you could break down away from anybody. But this isn’t a normal circumstance. You’re hurt and thankful to be alive and probably still a little high on pain meds, which is why you have to stare intensely down at the cast on your arm to keep the stray tears that hit your blanket from turning into full-on crying in Darth Vader’s presence. To his credit, he is incredibly patient with you, remaining silent and giving you the space to feel your feelings.

You manage to get yourself under control quicker than expected, sniffling a couple of times before you can meet his eyes again.

“My second in command—my best friend—was there with me.” It’s hard to get the words out, as a selfish part of you wants to not ask, but instead live in this gray area where she’s both alive and not. “Did you hear anything about someone named Oona?”

The control that you had been so proud of yourself for exercising crumbles the moment that you hear him say that Oona’s injured, but alive. Tears that were vanquished mere moments ago return in full force until you’re sobbing.

Not just crying, no. Sobbing. Like, gross, heaving sobs. The type of sobbing that will most definitely leave you feeling embarrassed later for having such an emotional reaction. At the moment, though, sobbing seems like the only way to properly express your feelings. Relief, at Oona being alive. Grief, for your general and likely a number of others who have lost their lives. And something bittersweet—some emotion you can’t truly place—for yourself and the position you’ve found yourself in.

After a few moments of indecision, Vader rises awkwardly from his chair and hovers inches away from you, unsure of what to do.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” you try to apologize in between sobs. “Really, I’m just—”

“Please don’t apologize,” he insists uncomfortably as your breath gets caught in your throat, causing you to almost hyperventilate as you try to remember how to breathe.

Darth Vader is a Sith Lord, and you’re a Force-sensitive Rebel; enemies, that much is true. But first and foremost, you’re both human beings who possess human traits and tendencies. Vader can’t help but sympathize with you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder before he’s even fully aware of the action. Likewise, when your body recognizes another human who’s willing to provide you comfort in a time of need, it acts by taking his hand in your own and beginning to pull him down onto the bed before logic can say otherwise.

“You don’t want me to hold you,” Vader tries to convince you while he’s climbing onto the bed with you and carefully avoiding your various bacta casts to slide his arms around you, somehow unaware that he’s the one taking the comfort further than just the simple hand-holding and proximity that you initiated. “I–I’m the reason for this. You should be sending me away.”

“Shut up,” you mumble into his chest through hiccuping sobs.

Already, your breath seems to come a little easier, your tears a little lighter. And the Force, which is always humming around you with something to say, has gone contentedly silent.

When you find yourself calm enough to dry your eyes and lift your head off of Vader’s chest, you have to fight a sudden bout of shyness to be able to actually look at him. “Sorry for crying on you so much,” you mumble bashfully.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Vader assures. “If anything, I’m surprised that you aren’t angry at me.”

“How can I be, when I would have done the exact same thing?”

He doesn’t bother to hide his shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” you admit with a laugh. “I absolutely would have bombed a meeting of Empire officials, and then belatedly realized you were probably there and tried to get you out safely against my better judgment.”

“Judgment seems to not be either of our strong suits right now. None of what’s happening to us follows any rationale,” Vader says.

“No,” you agree. “We should be mortal enemies.”

“Absolutely.” Vader tightens his grip around you. “Once we figure out why the Force keeps doing this to us, we’re right back to trying to kill each other without any qualms.”

“So glad we’re on the same page.”

You’re so on the same page, in fact, that neither you nor Vader let go of the other. Better to keep the Force happy, right?

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #sith!anakin #sith!anakin skywalker #sith!anakin skywalker x reader #star wars imagine #rebel-verse au #rebel!reader

117 notes · View notes

lune-redd · 1 year ago

Text

Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

#if youre confused by my wording im so sorry i dont often write long paragraphs like this in my spare time

509 notes · View notes

bucketbueckers · 7 months ago

Text

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FOUR

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 9.7k notes: mama a MASTERLIST behind you 💜 lots of filler content but it's kinda pivotal ig 😛 hope you're all enjoying, reading all of your comments makes my day 🫶

‘South Carolina Basketball Star Apologizes for Destruction Tour'

After a month of out of control behavior, Tess Kennedy has officially put an end to her destruction tour. In a heartfelt message on her socials, Kennedy apologizes to her team, coaches and staff, and basketball fans and she opens up about how her ACL injury “flipped [her] world upside down.”

“My injury forced me to consider a future where I could not play basketball,” Kennedy writes. “I moved to the States at a young age and basketball was the one thing that made me feel at home here. Believing that I’d lost basketball made me feel like I’d lost the one place I belonged. My thoughts were, ‘if I can’t play, then what’s the point?’”

Many fans responded well to Kennedy’s apology, understanding the guard’s feeling of homelessness. Many others appreciate the candor. One commenter noted that athletes don’t tend to discuss the darker parts of the ACL injury, claiming that this transparency is paramount in making mental health resources more accessible and more normalized for athletes. There are others who are firm in their belief that Kennedy’s reaction was unacceptable. Supporters rallied in defense for Kennedy.

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: USER THOMASBLINKY39: “GOOD ATTEMPT AT SAVING FACE. YOU OVERREACTED AND LET DOWN MANY, ESPECIALLY YOUNG GIRLS WHO LOOK UP TO YOU. TELL YOUR PR MANAGERS TO WRITE A BETTER APOLOGY NEXT TIME.” | USER TESSKENNEDYUPDATES: “IT’S THE SAME WITH YOU PEOPLE, ISN’T IT? A MAN IS ALLOWED TO REACT. A WOMAN CAN ONLY OVERREACT. DON’T PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND WHAT TESS IS GOING THROUGH. ALL YOUR COMMENT DOES IS SHOW THE YOUNG GIRLS YOU PRETEND TO CARE ABOUT THAT THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FEEL AND FALL APART WHEN THEY’RE HURT. TESS SHOWS THEM THAT THEY CAN COME BACK EVEN STRONGER.” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Reactions aside, one thing is for certain. Tess Kennedy is fully on the road to recovery and things are looking up for her.

“I’m connected with great physical therapists to rehab my knee and I am meeting with a psychologist to address my mental health and alcohol dependence,” Kennedy shares. “I am thankful for my friends, family, and support system. They were patient and loved me when I couldn’t love myself. This process hasn’t been pretty and it won’t look pretty for a while – but I owe it to myself to do what I need to so I can play the game I love again. This is a new opportunity to compete, only I’m against myself this time, and the one promise I can make is that I don’t lose to the same opponent twice.”

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 9, 2023

Tess’s alarm wakes her on Tuesday morning. It takes her a moment to blink the sleep out of her eyes, still feeling the residual exhaustion from accidentally staying up later than she’d been accustomed to the past week. It’s only 8am, but she can hear Kamilla and Bree milling about in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast, quietly laughing over the gentle hum of whatever music they have playing. Tess hauls herself out of bed, stretching the ache out of her body and making her way into the bathroom.

Tess was never usually one for sleeping in. It was a hard habit to break after years of being up bright and early to go on morning runs and hit the gym. She fell off of that part in her routine after her surgery, and although she can’t exactly do much running or lifting currently, trying to repair her sleep schedule and other routines helps bring back some normalcy in her life. So far, it was working pretty well, though it’s been a struggle to figure out what to do with her time on the days she doesn’t have PT in the morning.

As she brushes her teeth in the bathroom, she’s distracted by thoughts of the upcoming 12 hour drive she’ll have to power through. It was her only choice – she wasn’t cleared for air travel just yet, so it’s an unfortunate fact of life she’ll just have to deal with. She’s less stoked about the long conversation she’ll have to have with her parents. Between PT and her other obligations, Tess hasn’t really had the time to truly sit down and give her parents the closure they deserved. They’d texted and called numerous times; Tess felt terrible for ignoring most of it, but she just couldn’t stomach their worry and disappointment. She couldn’t stomach her own shortcomings, either, nor the fact that she let it get so bad and that she iced out the people who have been in her corner since day one. The more she thinks about how she ghosted her own parents and let them watch her crash and burn through gossip articles and online videos, the more she feels like she’s going to throw up.

She can’t avoid it forever, though. Not when there’s nothing between her and her parents besides their car’s center console and 715 miles of open road.

Tess rinses her mouth out, splashing water on her face, reaching for her cleanser and moisturizer. When she begins applying her skincare, it’s the first good look she gets of her face all morning. She stares at herself for a long moment. The bags under her eyes are fading and her cheeks finally have their fullness back. She feels okay – she really does, which she thinks is a weird feeling to celebrate, but she’s celebrating it regardless, knowing she’s felt anything but okay in the past month. The one feature, however, that almost brings a smile to her face is the subtle shine in her eyes, the flash of life that has otherwise been missing.

She looks good. She feels good. That much is enough to improve her mood. She ventures out into the kitchen, grinning at Kamilla and Bree who look up with matching smiles as they work. Kamilla is flipping something in a pan at the stove while Bree chops veggies. “Hey, guys. Need a hand?”

Kamilla shakes her head, waving the spatula at her in a way that reminds Tess of her nonna. “Nuh-uh. Sit. You want an omelette?”

Knowing better than to test Kamilla, Tess slides into a stool, careful of her knee. “Yes please.”

Kamilla hums, cracking a few more eggs into a bowl, adding milk, and whisking them together. “We didn’t wake you or anything, right?” Bree asks, dumping some peppers and onions into Kamilla’s bowl. Bree lowers the volume on their music just slightly so she can hear Tess’s response.

“Nah,” she reassures her. “I had an alarm set. My parents should be here around noon.”

Kamilla turns on her heel suddenly. “Oh, speaking of, you got a package like, twenty minutes ago. It’s by the door. What the hell did you buy? It was heavy as shit.”

Tess can’t help the flush that covers her cheeks, though she doesn’t understand why Kamilla’s question makes her feel as though she’s been caught red-handed. “Uh, I might have bought a PS5,” she admits, and Bree snorts. Tess shoots her an indignant look. “My therapist says I need new hobbies. Turns out I had zero personality outside of basketball, so I’m trying to find out what else I like.”

“Besides a certain blonde hooper, of course,” Bree says, straight-faced and deadpan. Kamilla nudges her with her elbow and they both break out into giggles.

Tess narrows her eyes. “You guys aren’t funny. We are literally just friends.”

“Well, you said y’all was strictly business last week, so which is it?” Bree teases. “I saw those photos of y’all at the airport, too. You looked heartbroken –”

“Stop,” Tess whines, burying her face in her hands. “It’s just for the media.”

“Cheer up, T,” Kamilla says comfortingly. Tess looks up to watch as Kamilla dumps the omelette onto a plate, sliding it her way with a fork. “Bree’s just jealous. The football player she’s been plottin’ on for months has a girlfriend back home, so she’s sad.”

Bree gasps, shooting her a scandalized look. “First of all, I wasn’t plotting on Shawn. I was just testing the waters, and the waters say football players are not husband material. Second of all –” Bree redirects her attention to Tess, whose fork hovers halfway to her mouth as she stares at her teammate, “–Tess is the worst actress I’ve ever seen in my life. Remember that time we tried to plan a surprise party for Aliyah and Tess couldn’t stop grinning the entire day?”

“That’s different!” Tess interrupts, the egg falling off of her fork. She groans as she scoops it up again. “I can’t lie to my friends. But I can lie to the media.”

“No the hell you can’t!” Bree retorts. “You can’t control your face. That’s why you trend on Twitter after pressers because half of the country turns you into a meme.”

Tess’s face falls. “Wait, they do that?”

Bree points at her as Kamilla snorts. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Anyways!” She claps her hands, gathering her thoughts. “You can’t control your face. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Which is why I know that look on your face at the airport was real. You aren’t lying to the media – you’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. You fuck with Paige, whether you’ve realized that or not.”

Tess’s face burns red as her thoughts race. “What are you, my therapist? I don’t fuck with Paige, whatever the hell you mean by that.” Bree narrows her eyes at her, and Tess has to look away. “Christ,” Tess mutters, fingers pressing into her temple. “Look, me and Paige are just friends. I’m just a mess emotionally with everything going on and she’s like, the only person I’ve hung out with that’s not you two.”

Kamilla nudges Bree with her elbow, drawing her attention as she breaks her silence. “Maybe we don’t need to grill her on this now,” she suggests, but her tone of voice leads Tess to believe that it’s more of a demand. “She’s going through a lot. Let her friendships just be friendships.” Tess shoots her a grateful look as Bree sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Bree says after a while. “I know you – you’re my girl, Tess. You’re not good at lying, or keeping secrets, or pretending, or doing anything casual. You’re real, maybe blunt to a fault, and you always give everything your all. I just want you to be careful. Blurring those lines with Paige can make things really complicated and you need to focus on recovery – not her.”

Tess frowns, pushing around the egg on her plate. She suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore. The anxiety creeps up into her chest, kickstarting her heart, and she has to breathe through the what-ifs and the slight panic that comes with questioning everything you’ve known for the past week. “I know you mean well, Bree, but I’m good,” Tess states once she gathered her thoughts. She gives her two teammates a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and judging by the way Bree deflates, she knows that she knows she’s soured the mood. “Trust. I’m not going to fall for Paige and I’m not going to blur those lines. We’re just friends who have to make the best of a weird situation because we fucked up our reputations. Nothing more.”

Bree stares at her long and hard, as if she doesn’t believe her. Tess doesn’t believe herself, either, but she has all the time in the world to start convincing herself that she’s just fine with her situation and there’s nothing to read into. “If you’re sure,” is what Bree says instead.

Tess can only give a half-hearted nod, suddenly feeling a lot less sure.

Her parents arrive shortly after noon as expected. She moved all of her packed belongings to the living room, anticipating their arrival, and she’d nearly teleported to the door once she heard the knock. Kamilla and Bree made themselves scarce after their uncomfortable conversation after breakfast. Tess isn’t sure if it’s because they knew that she needed time alone with her parents or because they were regretting bringing up the Paige situation at all. Maybe it was a mix of both, but Tess remembers she has other things to worry about as she opens the door to her apartment, coming face to face with her parents.

Her mother and her father, Alessandra and Mateo, stand just a few inches taller than she does with her father tallest of their trio. When she was younger, she used to hate that she stopped growing at 5’10 when her parents were 6’0 and 6’3 respectively. It used to make her feel small, like she wasn’t meeting her potential. Now, after everything she’s been through, she falls directly into their open arms and it feels like coming home all over again. They wrap her up tightly, engulfing her completely, and she finds that she has a newfound respect for being the shortest of them.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels her tears soak her mother’s blouse and her mother starts smoothing the hair at the crown of her head. The gentle touch is enough for the dam to finally break. Tess shudders through heaving sobs as her parents hold her tighter, whispering pleasantries in murmured Italian that only makes her wish she’d never shut them out. She wishes she asked them to come down for her surgery, that she asked them to take her home after the fact. She wishes she was cognizant enough to have asked for their help before she let everything consume her. It’s too late for ill-timed wishes, although there’s still plenty of time for her to make up for her misgivings.

Her parents let her cry until there’s nothing left, and only then do they pull away. Her mother wipes away the residual tear tracks on her cheeks with her thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as her father stares at her with a look that mirrors both his concern and his love for her. She stares back at him, at her mother, at the two people who have dropped nearly everything to support her and her dreams. They let her have her way when she couldn’t bear to see anyone after her surgery, they let her have her way when she wanted to move several hundred miles down south for basketball because she believed in what Coach Staley was preaching. Tess feels so much remorse and grief and love constrict around her heart and she can’t stop herself when she rushes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I–”

“You have nothing to apologize for, piccola,” her father says, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, but his understanding does nothing to quell the guilt.

“Yes I do,” she chokes out, eyes wide as she stares at the both of them, fresh tears beading at her waterline. “I got hurt and I pushed you guys away and I almost killed myself. I spiraled for a month straight and said awful things and almost ruined my knee for good. People tried so hard to help me and I didn’t let them.”

Her mother squeezes her hand, smiling softly at her. “We are your parents. You do not need to do anything to earn our forgiveness. You have it. Unconditionally.”

Tess’s lip trembles. She tries to fight the tears. “That’s not how that works,” she says weakly.

“Some things don’t have to work any certain way,” her father says. “Sometimes they just are. We’re proud of you, Tess.”

Growing up, people always said that Tess was a mix of her parents. She had her mother’s coiled, dark brown hair, her laugh, her nose, her sarcasm. She had her father’s eyes, his smile, his heart, his drive. Now, she’s beginning to realize that the trait her parents share – their ability to forgive – hasn’t quite reached her just yet.

“You don’t need forgiveness from other people,” her mother says, halting her racing thoughts. “You just need to forgive yourself, sweet girl. Learn from this, bounce back and recover, but you cannot do any of that if you hold the blame close to your heart.”

“I’m trying,” Tess confesses.

Several thoughts swim in her brain. She hears it all. Trying isn’t enough. Try harder. Why did you let it get this bad in the first place? It takes her far too long to realize the voice is her own. Her parents would never say any of that to her. But what they do say instead is, “Sometimes trying is all you can do,” and that’s enough to make her bottom lip wobble again. She launches herself back into their arms as her father continues, “We know you can heal from this. We know it’s hard. But you need to believe in yourself and try.”

The words get stuck in her throat as she tries to breathe through the pounding in her chest. All she can manage is a nod, but they understand her – they always do. Her parents hold her until she comes back to earth, her mother flashing a familiar smile at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Tess nods again, wiping her cheeks again. “Yeah. Just let me say bye to Kam and Bree first.”

Her parents nod, picking up her suitcase, her backpack, and her Amazon box by the door. They exit her apartment with her belongings in tow as Tess makes her way to Bree’s door first, knocking on it gently and waiting for her to open it.

When Bree does, she opens her arms immediately and Tess falls into her embrace. “Have a safe drive, okay?” Bree says, squeezing her. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Tess promises, pulling away.

“Listen,” Bree says. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t be in your business like that.”

Tess shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know where you’re coming from. Thank you for looking out for me. Just trust that I can look out for myself, too?”

“Done,” she agrees, and she sweeps Tess into one last hug before saying her goodbyes and venturing back into her room.

Kamilla’s room is her final stop. She doesn’t even have to knock before Kamilla opens the door and wraps her arms around Tess. “Don’t miss me too much,” Tess says jokingly, and Kamilla laughs, her chin resting on Tess’s head.

“Too late,” her best friend states. “Come home, Tess Kennedy. The kids miss you.”

Tess grins, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, Kam. I gotta go my own way.”

Kamilla pulls away but smiles fondly at Tess. “Text me when you’re home safe. I don’t care how late it is.”

“I will,” she promises again. Kamilla wraps her up one more time, saying goodbye, and returning to her room.

When Tess makes it back to the living room, her parents are back and empty handed. Tess smiles at them, slipping her crutches under her arms, and together, the three of them begin the 12 hour journey back to Brooklyn.

The first few hours of the drive are dedicated to the much needed conversation with her parents. Tess recaps the last few weeks to her them, explaining her thought process, the loneliness, the near constant knee pain. It’s all smooth sailing until she reaches last week’s events and the meeting with Amaya. She honestly has all intentions of leaving out the Paige situation, not wanting to lie to her parents because she and Paige agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone. If there was one thing Bree was right about, it was the fact that Tess was a shitty liar, and she would prefer to avoid the situation as a whole.

“So what about that blonde guard you’ve been hanging out with?” her dad asks innocently, completely ruining her entire plan.

Fuck. So much for that.

“Um,” she says smartly, a blush rising on her cheeks. Her dad glances up, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror, and his lips twitch into a smirk. “We’re taking things slow right now,” she says slowly. “Paige reached out after I tore my ACL and offered her condolences. I didn’t really want to accept help from anyone, but she flew out and surprised me after my meeting with Amaya, and, I don’t know, but it was really nice.”

“Do you like her?” her mother asks.

“Mamma,” she groans, exasperated. Her mom levels her with a look that makes her insides crumble. She remembers that her and Paige aren’t even publicly official, so what’s the harm in downplaying it? “I mean, she gets it, you know?” She gets me, is the clarification that goes unsaid, but Tess gets the idea that her parents understand her meaning just the same. “We play on different teams. I didn’t, um, want to let her get close,” she says tactfully, feeling as the words hit a little too close to home. “But I couldn’t stop it. I like being her friend and talking to her. That’s good enough for me for now.”

Her parents share a look in the front seat. Tess is sweating bullets in the back, trying desperately to distract herself by flipping her phone mindlessly in her hand. Truth be told, she’s not even sure where the truth ends and the lie begins. This whole situation is so messy, she thinks to herself, only snapping out of her thoughts when her mother speaks up. “Well, you sound happy,” she says, which genuinely surprises Tess. Another thing Bree was right about. She cannot control her expressions. “She may be good for you, piccola.”

Tess swallows thickly, craning her head to stare out the window. The trees on the side of the interstate pass by in a blur. She finds them much more interesting to look at now. “I hope so,” Tess says, the words coming to her easily.

Thankfully, her mother cranks up the AC and adjusts in her seat, aiming to take a power nap before she swaps places with Tess’s father to finish out the drive. Her father glances at her once more through the rear view, a knowing smile on his face, which unsettles Tess more than she’d like to admit, but the underlying softness in his eyes makes it hard to be too worried. Releasing a deep breath, she pulls her own blanket over her legs, pops her earbuds in, and leans against the car door as she closes her eyes, hoping to speed the drive along by sleeping through it. They still had another 10 hours to go, and Tess will be close to losing it if she has to talk about Paige for any longer.

The rest of their drive passes in relative peace. Tess crashes for a few hours and wakes up in time to order dinner from a drive-thru. Her parents switch driving duty an hour later at the closest rest stop and Tess takes the time to get out of the car to stretch her leg and use the bathroom. She stocks up on a couple of overpriced vending machine snacks, and before she knows it, they’re back on the road again.

She tries to nap again, but after the three hour snooze she took, she feels more restless than anything. Combined with being in the car for six hours, she’s ready to start running laps, knee be damned. She’s running out of playlists to listen to and she can only play Subway Surfers for so long before she starts getting exhausted of it. As if she senses her turmoil, a text from Paige comes through, and Tess can almost cry with relief, knowing that the blonde will have something stupid to say that will distract her.

Are you alive?

barely the longer we drive the more i wish i took a plane there’s got to be a donor somewhere out there who can give me their knee

So I don’t think that’s actually how that works!

so i don’t think you’re qualified to say that!

I am The ladies call me Dr. Bueckers Okay that was actually worded really bad

“the ladies” huh

Please don’t make this a thing I regretted it as soon as I sent it

every day i wonder how and why girls throw themselves at you you literally can’t flirt for shit you just annoy people and say the stupidest things so confidently

Well you’re still talking to me I think it works

my choices right now are entertaining you or staring out the window for another six hours

This is progress cause a week ago you would have said you’d prefer to stare out the window Tess Kennedy MIGHT like me 🤩

paige bueckers MIGHT be delusional 🤩

The line between delusion and manifestation is thin but I get what I want so just keep on hating

ok bars ur still delusional though

One day I’ll get you to admit it I’ve grown on you

much like a fungus

You think I’m a fun guy!

[8 Ball]

Don’t deflect

are you chicken?

Okay I see how it is

Tess and Paige probably set the record for the most pool games played in one sitting, which is surprising for two reasons. The first being the fact that Paige apparently had nothing going on for six hours, the second being the fact that Paige actually sat and played pool with Tess for six hours. Tess’s eyes had started drooping around 11:30 pm, but she and Paige were tied in how many wins they had (318 each – they kept track in a shared note), so she kept pushing through, even though her eyes burned and she wanted to crash. When Tess claims victory 319, Paige almost loses it.

You’re actually cheating

how tf am i cheating at 8 ball?

You seem like the type to take a screenshot and use the ruler

i’ll have you know i’m a woman of honor and integrity you’re just ass

You say the nicest things Okay one last round and I need to go to bed You’re almost home right?

we have like 20 more min yeah

Lock in

Tess, in fact, does not lock in. Six hours of pool is probably detrimental to her eyesight, so she cuts her losses and accepts one final draw between her and Paige. 319 each is good enough for her – especially with the time inching closer and closer to midnight and the fact she’ll likely see the pool table in her sleep.

Rematch tomorrow?

i don’t think i can ever play 8 ball again it will be too soon when my therapist said to find a new hobby i don’t think this is what she meant

You’re welcome!

i did not say thank you

You didn’t have to But you’re welcome for spending 6 hours on 8 ball with you

thank you

Oh my God that sounded genuine

and you just killed the moment

We were having a moment? 🤭

ok goodnight don’t text me again

You’ll miss me Lemme know when you’re home for real I’ll stay up

you don’t have to

So notice how that wasn’t the request

fine i'll let you know

Paige simply reacts to her message with a heart, and with a soft smile, Tess shuts her phone off and finally gives it a rest after six hours of non-stop use. Her screen time was probably off the charts, but that’s a problem for another time.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive passes by quickly and before she knows it, her mom is pulling into the driveway of their house. Tess could cry in relief, though whether it’s from lingering homesickness or the need to get out of the car, she doesn’t know. Her mother shakes her father awake and together, the two of them grab Tess’s bags from the back while she slips her crutches under her arms as they make their way into the house.

Tess hardly has the time to soak it all in. The last time she was home was during spring break, but right now, her main concern is hauling her ass to bed and passing out. Her parents carefully deposit her belongings on the floor in her room. Sharing one last hug for the night and exhausted goodnights, her parents leave her be and Tess all but collapses into bed. She adjusts the pillow under her knee, plugs in her phone, and opens her messages with Paige.

i'm home

Paige’s response is near instantaneous. Tess wonders if she was hovering, patiently waiting for her message before she let sleep consume her. Tess doesn’t dwell on it, not liking the way the thought made her chest tighten.

Thank you Night ma 🫶

Tess bids her goodnight, too, and she shuts her phone off, placing it on the bedside table. She stares at the ceiling, wondering why Paige’s message leaves an almost foreign stirring feeling in her stomach. But as her eyes slip shut, she determines she’ll just have to deal with it at another time, and she lets sleep finally take her.

MAY 11, 2023 - JUNE 20, 2023

The next month of Tess’s life passes in a blur of PT, weekly therapy appointments, mentoring from various Liberty members (although that was unplanned for), movie nights with her parents, and truthfully far too much Fortnite with Paige. She had her first PT appointment with Theresa, or Terri as she’d insisted Tess call her, on May 11th. As her appointment was in between the Liberty’s first two preseason matches, Tess saw a lot more of the Liberty players than she was expecting to. Stewie is taller than her Wikipedia led Tess to believe and Betnijah was even prettier in person. They all expressed their condolences as they filtered in and out for last minute screenings and check ups, and Tess couldn’t quite lose her stupefied awe no matter how many pros she talked to. She even got a follow back from Stewie, who joked that she was “alright for a Gamecock.”

Tess genuinely felt like she won the lottery. She couldn’t believe Sabrina had reached out for her or that it was even this easy in the first place, though she probably has to give more credit to the Liberty front office for granting their permission and monopolizing on the opportunity. So far, it’s been pretty mutualistic — Tess works with Terri, learns from seasoned veterans, cleans up her image a little more, and honestly increases her draft stock through league exposure; in turn, the Liberty monopolizes on Tess’s branding and status as a college athlete, aiding in growing the scene. There’s a lot of viewers out there who tune in solely for college athletics. The Liberty have already reported an increase in traffic on their websites and even some ticket sales, which Tess is honestly surprised by. She still has another year minimum in college; the fact that people are tuning in for her (when she isn’t even in the league yet) and the fact that she’s helping grow the WNBA simply by hanging out with the Liberty and rehabbing her knee is insane.

That was something Paige had teased her relentlessly about when they both found the time to FaceTime that Friday. Paige’s flight back to Minnesota was delayed a few hours, so she spent most of Thursday at the airport. She and Tess were supposed to chat after she landed, but the blonde went straight to bed once she made it home.

“With the 1st pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the New York Liberty select—”

“Okay, you’re not funny,” Tess gripes, narrowing her eyes at Paige, who can’t control her laughter from across the screen. Tess is in the middle of setting up her Playstation account, trying — and failing — to remember where most of the buttons are on the controller. Paige already has Fortnite loaded up on her screen and tries her best to help Tess with the logistics, but she keeps getting sidetracked. “The Liberty won’t have first pick for a hot minute. And you’d think they’d take me over Caitlin?”

“Stop talking about other women!” Paige cries. “Am I not enough for you or what?”

“You are so easy to mess with, it’s unreal,” Tess states. She leans in closer to her screen. “What the hell is L1?”

“Top button on the left,” Paige supplies. “The one on the back is the trigger, L2.”

Tess sighs, pressing the button and finishing up some of her customization as she navigates her way to the console store to download Fortnite. “Nerd,” she says under her breath, but the indignant gasp from Paige is the only reaction she needs. “Honestly,” she begins, hesitating slightly. “I might not declare in 2024.”

“What?” Paige blurts. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting ball. An angel just lost its wings.”

“Not like that!” Tess rushes to say. She stares at the download bar as it fills up, not looking at Paige. “I was talking to Sabrina this morning — chill, she is grown and she has a man —” her words do nothing to quell Paige’s dramatic huff, “and she suggested I use my redshirt eligibility and take an extra year. I mean, I’ll be back in time for March Madness and can play a few games with the new redshirting rules, though I’m honestly not feeling confident in returning from an injury, taking on high level play with little to no practice, then declaring for the draft fresh off of recovery. I’m not, like, worried about my ability, but from a purely logistical standpoint, no team would willingly want to draft me in this condition, right? It wouldn’t be safe. I wouldn't be a reliable pick. I feel like it would be good for me to stay, get back into it, and declare when I’m actually at my best.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, and when Tess glances down at her phone, she can see that Paige is deep in thought. When she finally responds, her voice is soft. “I know what you mean. I think you should,” she says. “Stay, I mean. I don’t think I’m declaring in 2024, either.”

Tess smiles knowingly at her. “Oh, you just wanna keep getting dunked on by me, huh?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but grins at her. “You’re 5’10. Only way you’re dunking is if they lower the rims.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You started it!” They dissolve into laughter. Tess’s download finally finishes and she opens Fortnite. “I’m serious, though,” Paige continues thoughtfully. “I’ve missed so many games due to injuries. I want a healthy offseason. A healthy season in general. A natty.”

“I always forget you barely have two seasons worth of games played,” Tess admits. “Your stats are kinda crazy.”

Paige smiles smugly. “Super efficient, I know. Don’t get too jealous.”

Tess scoffs. “Every time I say something nice, I immediately regret it. You can never just say thank you, can you?”

“Thank you, Tess Kennedy, I can’t wait until we play each other in 2025 and I stat pad my 3-point percentages 'cause you can’t guard me,” Paige declares confidently.

Tess’s jaw falls open. “I’m more likely to go #1 in the draft than you are to score on me,” she states. Paige raises a brow, as if to say really? and Tess rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “Okay, friend me or something. I don’t know how this works.”

“What’s your Playstation name?”

“tkennedy25.”

“Super original,” Paige says dryly, but quickly enough, she gets a friend request from pboogers1. “Don’t ask.” Tess accepts it with a wry smirk, as well as the party invitation. She watches as Paige’s character spawns on her screen, fully decked out. Tess’s character honestly looks like a loser next to hers, though it’s probably because her starting character is a man. “Where’s your drip at?”

“I don’t know,” Tess whines. “Why am I a man?”

“You gotta play more to get skins,” Paige supplies unhelpfully. “Are you ready to spend the next month playing Fortnite?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope! Ready up!”

Tess does just that. Her first few games are frustrating. She’s still getting accustomed to the button layout and the building in the game sucks, but Paige has endless patience (somehow) and Tess finds herself having more and more fun as Paige tries to guide her through it. She spends a fair bit of time begging for Paige to revive her (fall damage is not a fun concept) and even more time yelling that she’s getting shot at. They’re halfway through a match and making their way into the zone when they come across another duo.

“Flank them!”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Tess cries, trying to aim and shoot. Multitasking has never been so difficult.

“I’m at the top of the key,” Paige says. “Go to one of the wings.”

“What do you – ohhhhh.” Tess does as instructed and with both her and Paige firing, the other players are quickly taken down, leaving their loot. “Wait. Why was that actually a good call?”

“There may be hope for you yet, ma,” Paige says, placing a hand over her heart like she’s swooning, and it’s enough to make Tess crack a smile despite the flush on her cheeks.

When they take the win at the end of the round, Tess isn’t sure who’s more surprised – her or Paige. Tess drops her controller on her bed as she cheers – loudly – and Paige buries her head in her hands. If her knee was in better shape, she’s certain she’d be taking victory laps by now.

“I can’t believe you stole my fucking kill,” Paige says in near disbelief. “I did so much damage–”

“Oh, my God!” Tess screams, not processing any of Paige’s words. “We won! Did you see that?” she asks excitedly, barely hearing Paige’s initial response. She digs around in her blankets to locate her phone. When she finally fishes it out, Paige is already gazing at her through the screen, face and smile softening as she takes in Tess’s excitement.

“I did,” Paige confirms. Tess finally keys in on her stupid grin and she feels the flush travel the length of her body.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Paige exclaims, and her grin widens. “Just proud, s’all. You went from not knowin’ where X was to gunning people down.”

“We make a good team,” Tess says nonchalantly, but, fuck, Bree is always right – she can’t keep the dumb expression off her face. Her eyes are bright with elation, with the satisfaction that comes with finally understanding something. Paige’s raw honesty and the simple ‘Just proud’ means something different coming from her, even if her pride stems from Tess sucking just a little less at a video game.

Paige’s smile turns tender, and instead of a witty remark, her voice is soft when she admits, “Yeah, we do,” and it makes the warmth creep onto Tess’s cheeks once more. “Couple more?” she asks hopefully. “I got nothin’ but time.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of their day, learning more and more about each other in between game queues and early game rotations. Tess eventually has to get off to save her eyesight and do some PT, but it’s hard to get rid of her smile even after she shuts off the console and she and Paige hang up. When she ventures out of her room for dinner, Tess tries her best to ignore her parents’ knowing smiles. The look in their eyes explains more than their words ever could, and briefly, as she’s layering salad on her plate, Tess thinks of a future where everything is less complicated, where she and Paige don’t have to put a fake label to something they’re not.

But that thought sounds suspiciously like something Tess isn’t ready to face, so she wipes it from her brain and drizzles the balsamic over her salad.

On Saturday, Paige introduces her to Drew. He’s off school for the weekend and Paige asked if she’d be interested in running trios with him. Tess honestly couldn’t think of a world where she’d say no to that, to learning more about who Paige Bueckers is outside of basketball and being a charming mix of annoying and unbelievably sweet. Looks aside, Tess would have assumed that Paige and Drew were fully blood related the way their mannerisms were exactly the same, all the way down to their sassy, “Alright now,” that never failed to make her laugh. Drew tells her all about how his classes are going and how he’s going to be better than Paige at basketball one day. Tess is pretty sure she and Drew become best friends when she tells him, “I think you’re already better than her,” and Paige gasps so indignantly that she almost chokes.

Tess is an only child, but with the speed at which she and Drew bond, she thinks he might become an honorary brother. She’s so focused on Drew that she misses the look of complete adoration on Paige’s face, the tender curve of her smile. She only registers something is off because Paige is unnaturally quiet – which never happens because Paige has a near inability to shut up. It was something Tess had to convince herself was annoying, but now she knows it’s just another part of who Paige is.

“Lock in, Paigey,” Drew tells her, realizing she’s unfocused, too, and his demand makes Tess erupt in laughter.

“Bro, I am locked in!” she exclaims.

The three of them load into the game and Drew drops a marker in the middle of the map. He looks at Paige with an expression that is menacing in the way only a younger sibling can ever be capable of. “You should pay more attention to the game,” he says innocently, “and less on your girlfriend.”

“Drew!” Paige cries, her face reddening. Tess feels the burn on her cheeks but she can’t stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter. Paige drops her controller long enough to bury her face in her hands in exasperation. Drew’s giggles are infectious, which makes it harder for Tess to get the air back in her lungs. “Bro, do not kill my girlfriend. I will hunt you down, swear.”

Drew sticks his thumb and index fingers up in an L shape, shoving his hand in Paige’s face, who pushes him back dramatically. “You both need to lock in,” Tess gripes, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “You promised me a win, Paigey.”

Paige scoffs, picking her controller back up. Together, the three of them begin their descent, along with dozens of other players, into the most populated location on the map. “Don’t trip, ma. You know I got you.”

Tess hums, unconvinced. Eventually, they do end up taking the win at the end of the match, which results in Drew showboating after he successfully stole the final kill from Paige. Tess giggles as she watches him run a victory lap around their living room over the phone. Paige meets Tess’s eyes, a fond expression on her face, although she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. The blonde isn’t a different person around her brother by any means. She’s still sarcastic, freakishly charming, but there’s an underlying softness in how she speaks to him that reminds Tess of how Paige speaks to her. She’s not soft because Drew is younger or needs coddling, but Tess suspects that Paige just treats him that way because Drew just means that much to her. There’s an immeasurable amount of care in her heart that most people miss simply because Paige likes to tease, but having grown up similarly, Tess is fine-tuned to the way Paige shows her love, fine-tuned to the way it manifests in their own friendship.

For the next month and some change, this is their routine. Tess and Paige spend hours on FaceTime playing Fortnite. Sometimes it’s with Drew, who yaps just as much as Paige does, but as the time goes by, Tess finds that she truly enjoys listening to the both of them go on. They talk about their blended family and their other siblings, Ryan and Lauren. Paige lights up when Tess asks more about them – it’s obvious that she’s an amazing older sister and her siblings clearly adore her. In turn, Tess opens up about her cousins. Her mother had fertility issues and Tess was their miracle baby; her cousins were the closest people she had to siblings, and she wouldn’t change a thing about it. One day, Drew declared that Tess is his sister now, too, and that was enough to shock Paige and make Tess tear up.

Other times, it’s just her and Paige hanging out alone. They talk about any and everything, poking fun at each other over the simplest things, laughing at stupid shit, and stirring the pot online when they share photos of their wins with cringey captions like, “my duo.”

Tess has never verbalized it before, but she knew it was just as true: Paige gets her. The knee, the on-court pressure, their other shared interests. The understanding between her and Kamilla is different from the one between her and Paige. She lacks the ability to define it, and honestly, she’s not sure how important the actual definition is anymore. She’s acutely aware of just how much of her life she’s inadvertently dampened by trying to understand something before experiencing it. The moral is that Paige has quickly become an integral facet in her life. That thought doesn’t scare her as much as it used to.

“Okay, so what do you notice that’s different about me?” Tess asks coyly one day after she props her phone up on her nightstand, taking a few cautious steps backwards. She places her hands on her hips, watching as Paige taps her chin dramatically.

“Wait, you’re not using your crutches anymore!” the blonde exclaims.

“Nope! Officially cleared.” Tess wiggles her leg, a beaming grin on her face. “Still got the brace, though.”

Their friendship progresses over the month and so does Tess’s recovery. Her wins easily become Paige’s wins. Paige celebrates her with just as much enthusiasm as she celebrates wins on the court, all teeth and wide smiles when Tess reports back with crucial developments in therapy or new developments with her knee. Tess is just as invested in Paige’s life as she is in hers; Tess “officially” meets some of her teammates when they’re on live one night and Paige forces her to join. They spend hours together, and judging by all of the screen recordings they’re tagged in the morning after, they clearly did a good job at pretending to be together (although Bree’s factual statement about Tess being unable to lie swims in Tess’s head on repeat).

When they’re not playing Fortnite or fucking around on the other games Paige forces her to try out, they’re building LEGO sets together. They were on FaceTime one night building two different sets: Tess with a tuxedo cat and Paige with a red rose, and the jokes were flowing. When Paige finished her rose, she displayed it proudly with a cheeky smile, holding it up to her phone screen as if she was giving it to Tess. While Tess rolled her eyes, she couldn’t curb her growing fondness for the blonde, and they both seemed to know it.

“What do we think about the white?” Tess asks another day, holding the aforementioned dress over her body, displaying it for Paige, who sits patiently on the other end of the phone.

The blonde raises an unimpressed brow. “Who all’s gonna be there?”

Tess levels her with an unimpressed look of her own, lowering the dress slightly. “P, it’s my cousin’s baby shower. Take a wild guess.”

Paige raises her hands defensively. “All I’m saying is the white looks good as hell on you. I might have to fly out to make sure no one brings a plus one who’s on some funny shit.”

Tess flushes, but rolls her eyes with a pleased expression. “The white’s nice, right? But look at this gold one I have, too.” Tess hangs the white dress back in her closet, returning with the gold one in tow – it has a slightly longer skirt but it’s a little more snug at the top. Paige is quiet for far too long. Tess narrows her eyes at her, stepping closer to the phone to see what’s going on only to realize Paige is just shamelessly checking her out. “Eyes up here, Romeo. White or gold?”

Paige clears her throat. “Can’t you just wear a paper bag or sum’?”

“To my cousin’s baby shower?” Tess deadpans.

Paige stares back at her with a serious expression. “Well, it’s either the paper bag or you figure out how to become ugly. Only one of those is possible.”

“You are no help at all. Let me call Sabrina –”

“Gold,” Paige interrupts quickly. “You don’t need Sabrina. She’s not even six foot.”

“And her height makes her unfit to pick out dresses, because…why?”

“She don’t see the vision like I do,” the blonde says simply, smirking in a self-satisfied way. “The gold? Immaculate.”

“Spell immaculate.”

Paige gasps indignantly. “Alright! It’s like you’ont even want my help. What am I even here for?”

Tess grins mischeviously at her, returning the dress back to the rack in her closet. “Clearly just to stare at me. You have no shame, Paige Bueckers.”

She raises her eyebrows suggestively, her expression appreciative. “Well, I mean–”

“Goodnight, Paige!”

Somewhere in between late night FaceTimes and breaking the Internet one Instagram comment at a time, their friendship seems to shift. It all becomes natural. She wakes up, responds to Paige’s timely Good morning! texts, reposts her stories and comments on her posts. The longer that this goes on, the less that Tess cares about whoever they’re supposed to be pretending for. Her brand deals are trusting her again and the trolls in her comments start disappearing. Her PT and therapy appointments are going well and she starts feeling like herself again. She’s sure she could credit that to Paige’s near constant presence in her life, but she knows the blonde well enough by now – Paige would emphasize that it’s all Tess. For a while, Tess was fearful of letting this get out of hand, but she’s coming to realize now that she doesn’t mind how their friendship has evolved.

But Tess has been around for long enough to realize that the ball drops sooner rather than later. Late at night in early June, Tess gasps awake with debilitating pain in her knee. It was unexpected – she hadn’t felt it like this in quite a while. Her exercises were going well and she was usually cautious to not overwork herself, but perhaps she did a little too much that day and it’s coming back to bite her in the ass. She groans in pain as she pushes herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and blindly reaching for the insulated cup full of ice that she keeps on her nightstand for times like this. Tess digs through her blankets until she finds her phone and turns the flashlight on. She pours some of the ice into a ziplock bag she keeps on hand, zipping it shut tightly and pressing it to her knee. It does little to soothe the pain, but it’s better than nothing, and her breathing becomes a little easier.

It’s only after she takes care of her knee that she finally registers the dryness of her mouth, the thirst for something to numb the pain. She falls back onto her pillows in equal parts frustration and grief – she thought she was past this. She’d made so much progress in therapy and figuring out how to fill her time with new hobbies and activities to distract her. She hadn’t felt an actual craving in a few days, but now, it feels like undoing a month’s worth of work. Tess reaches into the cup and shovels a handful of ice into her mouth. As she chews, it soothes the dryness and the cold is enough to shock her brain, but it’s not enough to regulate her. The pain in her knee combined with the urge to do something she’ll regret makes her feel like she’s drowning again. She could easily satiate it – her parents moved their liquor (not out of distrust, but to keep it out of mind), although she knows where the hiding spots are. She grew up with younger cousins. Knowing how to keep it out of reach was just a matter of responsibility. But now, that responsibility feels uncomfortably like temptation, and it takes everything in her to keep herself rooted to the bed.

Tess reaches for her phone before she even fully processes what she’s doing. She types in her passcode, swipes over to her contacts, and hits call. The phone only rings twice before the line clicks through.

“Tess?” Paige’s voice is quiet, but rough with sleep. Part of Tess feels guilty for waking her up, although the other part of her knows that Paige would have been upset if she didn’t call.

“Hey,” Tess says softly, unconsciously relaxing.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” Paige sounds a little more awake now, shifting around on her bed, and Tess exhales. She hates how much better she does feel just from hearing her voice. Her knee still aches but her brain clears. It’s like coming back up for air after diving.

“I’m sorry for waking you–”

“Don’t,” Paige says firmly, interrupting her. “What's wrong, ma?”

Tess smiles, forgetting Paige can’t see her. “I woke up and I was in so much pain,” she admits in a near whisper, listening to the sound of Paige’s breathing. “Felt like I was tearing my ACL all over again. And then the cravings came back. I was doing so well, like I was improving, but… I’m frustrated and exhausted and my knee hurts so bad, and, I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Her confession rings out in the silence of her room. She tries to ignore the way her voice cracks, but her honesty makes the weight on her shoulders feel a little lighter.

“You know you can call me whenever,” Paige says after a while, her voice soft. “I’ll answer.”

“I know.”

“You are improving,” she continues, trying to find the words. “This isn’t a set back, ma, just part of recovery. It’s never gonna be linear. Some nights are gonna be harder than others. But that doesn’t mean you’re going backwards. It just means you gotta fight a little harder.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Tess admits. “I just want to be okay again.”

“You will be,” Paige says confidently, endlessly patient. “Tess Kennedy doesn’t lose to the same opponent twice, right?”

Tess chuckles. “That was kind of a bar.” Paige hums in agreement. “Thank you for picking up.”

Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat, like the idea that she wouldn’t pick up is preposterous. “Always, Tess, you know I got you.” Tess can’t stop the slow smile from spreading across her face. “You want me to stay?”

Tess opens her mouth, hesitating, but reminds herself to be honest. “Can you? Please?”

Paige hums again, her voice sounding sleepy, and Tess relaxes as Paige begins to ramble. “Lauren and Ryan are comin’ up this week. We’re just gonna hang, do a big dinner and shit. I wish they lived closer, but I mean, I’m in Storrs most of the year and they’re getting older so they’ll be goin’ off to college, too. I just really miss them a lot. I think you’d like them. Maybe you can fly up for the holidays and I can introduce you. My parents ask about you. They might like you more than they like me, which is insane…like these past 21 years didn’t mean anything to them.”

“Poor baby,” Tess teases in a soft murmur. She hears Paige snort.

“Are you free, um, fuck – on the holidays?” Tess listens to Paige shuffle around, a smile growing on her lips. “Do you celebrate?”

“Thanksgiving, no; Christmas, yes,” Tess responds. “My parents and I usually just watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and order a pizza.”

“Lemme fly you out for Thanksgiving? Meet my family?”

Tess hardly has to give it a second thought. “Sounds perfect to me,” she says. “You wanna fly out here after Christmas? New Year’s in New York?”

“Whatever you want,” Paige replies. “You’ll have to give me that insider Kennedy knowledge. How do I get your parents to like me?”

Tess laughs, feeling her eyes droop. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust. My mom thinks you’re good for me. And my dad thinks you’re the worst kept secret in the history of Tess Kennedy’s worst kept secrets.”

“Yeah?” Paige huffs out a quiet laugh. “And what does Tess Kennedy think? Am I good for her?”

Tess struggles to stifle her growing smile as she answers coyly. “What do you think?”

She can almost visualize Paige’s grin. “I make you smile. I think ‘m doing somethin’ right.”

And for that, Tess truly has no rebuttal, embracing the warmth that creeps up her cheeks. Paige keeps speaking and Tess tries her best to stay awake to listen, but the timbre of Paige’s voice reverberates throughout her room and lulls her to sleep. It makes her forget about the ache in her knee and the chaos in her mind. Paige’s soft laugh as she recounts her first dunk is the last thing Tess hears before she succumbs to a blessedly peaceful slumber.

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

249 notes · View notes

bwat5-blog · 7 months ago

Text

Vi's Ending

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

I have written about and discussed Vi in significant detail. However it was pointed out to me recently that her ending is worth its own detailed discussion and I completely agree. For those who have been sticking with me on these, you already know Vi is my favorite character. She means a lot to me, as she does to many of you for various reasons. So before we dive in let me say this:

Vi is NOT the Jinx

Vi is NOT a bad sister

Vi did NOT get Jinx killed

I have written in great detail defending and explaining each of these points, and because of that I will not detail those here. But if you are interested I'd love for you to check out my other posts and share your thoughts! Ultimately I am just another fan, and I am really enjoying celebrating the achievement in story telling this show has become, and its legendary characters.

The End:

At the end of this story, we find Violet, sitting alone, drinking, humming powder's song from the very first moments of the show. She appears deeply in thought and is curled up on herself, only opening up when her beloved Caitlyn joins her. They share a tender moment where Caitlyn asks her if she is still in this fight, to which Vi responds "I am the dirt under your nails cupcake, nothings gonna clean me out" and lays her head on Caitlyn's shoulder allowing herself to relax as Caitlyn smiles softly looking into the fire. This seems to be our last look at the couple outside of the game if Riot is to be believed (money talks people, keep these characters popular and they may listen!), and it has understandably sparked reactions across the board. For myself, I found it bittersweet. Beautiful and hopeful in many ways, but recognizing the weight of what they have survived, and validating the healing they still need. I view it as Vi finally being on the road to peace, just not quite there yet.

The Heart of Zaun:

I have extensively detailed who Vi is in other posts and therefore will spare you the diatribe here. But to properly appreciate and understand why her ending was so meaningful we do have to understand who she is.

"You've got a good heart. Don't ever lose it, no matter how the world tries to break you"- Vander

Vi is not perfect. She impatient, quick to anger, stubborn beyond belief and impulsive. But these are things born of the dark and angry world she has been forced to survive in all her life. At her core, who is she really?

A Daughter

A Sister

A Warrior

A Guardian

What Vi proves time and time again throughout this story is that she is fiercely loyal, loving, and true. She is tough as nails and brave sure. But we also get these beautiful moments of fragility. Moments where her love, her fear and her hope bleed through the mask she keeps up showing us who she is beneath. Other lessons from Vander plays a major role in who she becomes as well:

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish"

"Who are you willing to lose?"

-- Vander

Vi was already trying to care for the kids around her, and had at a young age been through so much trauma and loss. But as any teenager would, she still displayed a lack of understanding about the potential broader consequences of their actions. After her talks with Vander, almost every decision she makes she is trying to protect those she loves, or trying to atone when she feels she has fallen short. Her own happiness becomes her last priority in almost every situation. And her journey to overcome this, to learn that its okay for her to know tenderness, and peace, and love and that those things don't make her unworthy. This is Vi's inner journey.

She deserves the things she fights so hard to give the people she loves. I meant to re-blog it and hope I did, but another user pointed out something I have never considered. When she and Vander are talking on the bridge, and he gives here these lessons, what does she say is the reason she wants to fight? - that she grew up knowing she was less than, but she wants more for her little sister and will bleed to do it. Even at that young age, before experiencing so much of the pain she goes through, she doesn't see herself as deserving of that same defense as everyone else in her life... She believes is meant to be the shield, and never the shielded.. An inspiring and heroic notion on paper, heartbreaking to recognize in a teenage girl who is only just beginning in life.

Back To The End:

Okay, with that refresher lets return to Vi's ending. We see this beautiful, tender moment between Vi and the woman she loves. And sure, on the surface of the moment alone it appears your standard happy ending. Safe, warm, and in the company of the woman she loves. These are all undoubtedly good things. But context matters. No decision in this show, no plot point, no animation, no detail is accidental. So we need to account for the following factors:

They have just survived a truly terrifying battle which no matter the result in terms of life and death ,would be deeply traumatizing

She and the woman she loves have made it through together its true (thank god). On a purely physical level, Caitlyn's heroic willingness to sacrifice a part of her own body to achieve victory has left her forever changed. And Vi's body has become a tapestry of scars from a life time of sacrifice and struggle

Caitlyn and Vi's reconciliation is a controversial topic in the fandom. I feel that it was justified in terms of us being given the necessary pieces to believe it, but rushed (the whole season was). Like if I asked a student to show me his work on a math equation, he got the correct answer, but he could only show me the beginning of each step he took to solve it. Correct, but incomplete. All of that to say this, their scene in the jail cell was beautiful, and it was full of meaning far more than the spicy quality (although god damn who are we kidding), but we are talking about months of time apart, with both of them living through an extremely dark period, all precipitated by an extremely traumatic "breakup". I don't think it's unreasonable to assume they have more to work through and heal from regarding this issue, although thankfully their love for each other remains strong.

The death toll of this battle is seemingly enormous although we are not given an exact number. The impact of this is obvious. And although I agree his character was not perfectly utilized, I saw Loris as the face of the countless faceless citizens of Piltover and Zaun who died in this conflict. His death right in front of Vi happening so quickly, and brutally.

Vander.. Vi had to watch her adopted father die not once, not twice, but three times. The first time after saving her life, the second time after they seemed so close to saving his, and the third time with him very nearly killing her. I'm not a mental health professional but I don't think I need to be in order to suggest this may leave lasting emotional and mental scars on her

Jinx. Vi's crusade for her sister's soul begins the moment she steps out of Stillwater with Caitlyn. The relationship between Vi and Jinx is far too complex and detailed to cover in a bullet point like this, and is one of the pillars upon which this show came to be. I'm not getting into fault or blame or any of that right now, because what it comes down to is this. Vi loves Jinx and fought so.. so hard to BE her sister again. And finally, right at the end when it seems like they are finally going to be okay, she loses Jinx. again (not dead but Vi doesn't know that). And why? because Vi breaks at the sight at the sight of Vander's body and Jinx sacrifices herself to save her. Vi's breakdown is heartbreaking. It its understandable, its realistic, its painful and its human.. But after a life time punishing herself for how she feels she failed her sister.. it hurts to admit the truth that as things stand now, Vi will probably carry the guilt of Jinx's death for the rest of her life.

I know that is all so bleak, and so heavy. And it hurts because you want to see Vi happy. We want to see her and Jinx living as sisters catching up on the time that was stolen from them. We want to see a world where she and Caitlyn are energetic and happy and healed. We want to see Vi in some way acknowledge that in the end, Jinx's sacrifice was not because Vi failed her. It was because Jinx saw that her sister who had always loved and believed in her, needed her this time. That the woman who had always stood for those she loved needed someone to stand for her. So Jinx became the shield Vi never believed she deserved.

That Vi is a bad-ass is never in dispute. We see her fight countless times in defense of those she loves, and do so quite well. Her journey is not to find her strength. It is to recognize that she is worth more than that. She deserves more. And our hope for her is born of the changes we see. As her relationship with Caitlyn evolves, and she sees her belief in her sister finally validated, She comes to understand she has more to offer than the strength of her arms.

Her relationship with Caitlyn: Their love story is so amazing, and complex, and layered. It is far too much to cover as a bullet point in another post like this and I do intend to deep-dive it soon. But in terms of this discussion, I want to stay this. That Vi and Caitlyn have their ups and downs is obvious. Its not that every moment of their time together is an unending parade of joy and romance, that would be not only bad story telling but not realistic. But the best romantic partners are those people who can fall into the flames together and walk out not untouched, but re-forged into something stronger. These two women are a great example of this. There are many important moments in their relationship that greatly effect Vi, but I am going to focus on just one:

Caitlyn Finds Vi in Jinx's Cell:

As I mentioned previously, this scene is so important for so many reasons. For our purposes, we need to remember what leads up to it. Vi immediately goes to rescue Jinx after confronting Caitlyn over her imprisonment, only for Jinx to stun her and leave her in the cell herself (there is so much context and meaning here in terms of Jinx and Vi/Jinx but we are focusing on Caitlyn right now). Then Caitlyn finds her. Alone. In the cell of the woman who killed her mother. Now there are a lot of ways this could go and Vi is clearly expecting the worst. She laments that she always chooses wrong trusting and believing in Jinx, and that this time its cost her everything. Her sister is gone. She assumes Caitlyn will be enraged, and not to mention she is in this incredibly vulnerable state, in a jail cell, after surviving seven years of false imprisonment that started when she was still in her teens. But it doesn't go how she expects.

"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable"

Vi believes that this part of her, this emotional, trusting, vulnerable part of her is always wrong. But Caitlyn reveals just how much she knows that part of Vi. And not only knows, but accepts it, predicted it, and even stepped in to help the woman she loves, putting aside her own hate and bitterness. Its a powerful moment. It shows Vi just how much she is worth to Caitlyn, and it has nothing to do with her fists. Just her heart. And Vi's response to this revelation shows us maybe the first time in the entire story, where given this tiny seed of evidence that she may deserve to be happy, she chooses to let herself be. Right there in that cell with Caitlyn.

Her Relationship With Jinx:

Like Caitlyn, this relationship could only be explored properly through it's own deep dive. So again, I am going to focus on a single moment between these two as evidence of Vi hard earned affirmation of her refusal to quit on those she loves. When Vi goes to break Jinx out of jail, Jinx stuns her and escapes instead, leaving her locked inside. As Vi panics for her sister, Jinx walks away, pleading with Vi to let herself be happy, and to stop looking for her. This of course leads to the incident we just mentioned in which Vi claims she always chooses wrong in trusting her sister. "I really thought she'd help" Vi says to Caitlyn about her sister when Cait arrives. And how does her belief in her sister shake out? Jinx rides in on a war balloon at the head of an under city army, and saves the day... and then later on, saves Vi's very life at what seems to be (We know better) the expense of her own. Vi was right about her sister all along.. its just that some lessons are hard won indeed..

Conclusion:

Vi is an amazing character who has quite frankly, earned her rest. And that's what the end of the show is sharing with us. Vi is warrior. She has fought, and bled, and lost so much, but she has endured. Through her two most important relationships in her life she has found the road to the recovery from the many, many wounds her existence has left on her, and they are still wounds that need healing. There is grief, and pain, and guilt still dwelling in her. But we have seen the seeds of her self-worth beginning to bloom and it is in them that we place our hope for Vi. Because she has an inkling that what Vander told her, the same thing the woman she loves noticed within hours of of meeting her, and the same reason Jinx knew Vi would never give up on her, has always been a far greater power than her ability to do violence.

#vi arcane #vi and jinx #caitvi #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane season 1 #arcane

237 notes · View notes