#probably the simplest chapter so far.

[summercourtship]

ch. 15 of stay to burn (only to drown instead) is up!!!! a shorter, more simple chapter that serves as a bit of a breather before the final chapter.... also Edward's final appearance in this fic (in person at least).

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER NINE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur thelightknight21 wc: 9.9k notes: with the 1st pick in the 2025 wnba draft, the dallas wings select... the IRP masterlist, lee university! cringe i know but it's the last chapter, let me be happy. i wrote the first half of this chap before the providence game, felt like a witch once the starting lineup dropped, currently manifesting the rest of this chapter ages just as well (my ball knowledge is limited, if the game doesn't make sense just let me be delusional, i dont give a gaf). smut warning, who's surprised. fluffier than chapter 6 methinks. tried to fulfill the nice/gentle P agenda, may have fumbled the bag bc this somehow felt more filfthy? kinda short too idk lmk 😩 not proofread, i'll probably come back later to edit. sorry for yapping (no im not) but i hope you all enjoyed reading irp as much as i enjoyed writing it, thank you for sending in such sweet comments and engaging in the inbox, they were genuinely so motivating and i loved interacting w y'all 🫶 as always i hope we're rocking w this final chapter 🙂‍↕️

‘The Return of Tess Kennedy’

A little over two years ago, college basketball sensation Tess Kennedy tore her ACL in the Final Four matchup between the University of Iowa Hawkeyes and the South Carolina Gamecocks. Kennedy, who’d amassed fifteen points close to the end of the third quarter, was a pivotal element to South Carolina’s game – Iowa struggled to lock her down. Kennedy stepped off wrong and collapsed on court. Many knew what had happened long before the news broke. Her recovery was far from easy, but Kennedy did the impossible and recovered just in time for the SEC championship and the March Madness tournament, where she led South Carolina to a redemption win over Iowa with a dominating 30 points. Following the win, Kennedy shared a photo of herself holding the championship trophy, one eye closed in a wink and her lips curled into a smug snarl, and captioned it, “took a year off to cut you bitches some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend tess kennedy’s back.”

Many athletes often need a long period of adjustment after returning from a serious injury. Kennedy, however, played as though that statistic did not apply to her. Kennedy played as though she had something to prove. A loud majority of fans speculated that Kennedy fought so fiercely because her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, and the UConn Huskies had been eliminated by Iowa in the Final Four match only two days prior to the championship. A smaller few claimed Kennedy holds a grudge against Iowa for her injury – although Kennedy disputed this theory in a presser, linked here.

The simplest truth of the matter is that Kennedy did not play any sort of way for anyone but herself and her team. She proved to herself that she could come back even better from an injury that she thought would uproot her life. She played for her team, who uplifted her during recovery and gave her the tools and the support to show up and show out when the world was watching. Kennedy played the way she did because that’s just what Tess Kennedy does.

During South Carolina’s 2024 Senior Night, Kennedy announced that she would stay at South Carolina for another year of college basketball. She cited her injury as the source of her decision. She explained that there is still more recovery for her to do and that she did not feel comfortable declaring for the draft with only five games post-injury under her belt, especially since she was under a minute restriction during those games. We believe that decision is the best she could have made for herself.

Throughout the 2024-2025 regular season, Kennedy has averaged 26.2 points per game, 4.3 steals per game, 3.7 blocks per game, and 3.2 assists per game. Since her injury, she’s turned into both an offensive and defensive dual threat, leading the South Carolina offense with help from Raven Johnson, MiLaysia Fulwiley, and Te-Hina Paopao. Coach Dawn Staley describes Kennedy as “unguardable” from the perimeter and “unstoppable” from the midrange. Coach Staley also notes that Kennedy’s midrange improvements have pleasantly surprised her as Kennedy was usually a reliable three-point specialist. Coach Staley would not elaborate on where Kennedy’s sudden game adjustments have come from, but one basketball analyst noted that Kennedy’s midrange proficiency looks stunningly like girlfriend Paige Bueckers’s. This is not surprising in the slightest as Kennedy and Bueckers spent the offseason together on a joint “world-tour” that evidently included lots and lots of time in the gym.

The SEC tournament has come and gone with, you guessed it, South Carolina as the winner, having defeated Tennessee and LSU back to back. South Carolina dominated the first five rounds of the NCAA tournament. In the Final Four, they defeated UCLA in a convincing 78-71 victory. For the championship match, they’re against UConn, who is fresh off of a hard-fought Final Four victory against Notre Dame.

This is precisely the clash of the titans that basketball fans have been looking forward to since June of 2023. UConn vs. South Carolina. Bueckers vs. Kennedy. This is a rematch for the 2022 championship game wherein UConn fell short, but many are questioning South Carolina’s ability to go back to back, especially since UConn has seen tremendous growth over the past season. With a healthy Azzi Fudd and a healthy Aubrey Griffin, sharpshooters Ashlynn Shade and Allie Ziebell, energetic KK Arnold and Morgan Cheli, imposing Jana El-Alfy, transfer portal weapon Kaitlyn Chen, do-it-all field general Paige Bueckers, and Sarah Strong – no title, Sarah Strong is that girl – UConn is a fan favorite to win. With the final tipoff only an hour away, we are at the edge of our seats in anticipation. Let us know in the comments below – who are you rooting for?

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

APRIL 6, 2025

If there’s one thing that Tess knows is true about Paige Bueckers after over a year of dating, it’s that Paige always keeps her promise.

You and me, same time next year?

Tess watches her warm up only a half court away. She’s stunning, donning a UConn sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, her hair up in her gameday braids that Tess has full intention of ruining later after her girlfriend is crowned an NCAA champion. That thought alone shouldn’t excite her as much as it does, but she can’t help herself. Paige and her team have worked incredibly hard to be here – Tess has gotten to witness that first hand. She also can’t help feeling a little smug because she was right. Kaitlyn Chen, transfer portal weapon. Freshmen Morgan Cheli and Allie Ziebell – they both needed a few games to get comfortable, but once they were hot, they were hot. And finally, Sarah fucking Strong, Paige’s freshman menace that honestly needs to declare right now because college basketball will not be safe with her on the court.

Tess has no intention of rolling over and letting them win – Paige would honestly break up with her, which would ruin the entirety of Tess’s five year plan: get drafted. Win some shit. Dunk on Paige Bueckers. Marry Paige Bueckers. Free agency. Simple and easy. But Tess also knows that UConn will be playing with something to lose, a chip to win, and that they were easily the most challenging match-up they’d faced all year with the exception of the final SEC teams. UConn defeated them at home, even after Tess dropped 20 hard fought points – they honestly just had no answer for Sarah Strong, which is becoming a recurring theme as of late.

“Oh my God, not this shit again,” Raven complains. Tess turns just in time to catch the ball that Raven had definitely aimed at her ass.

“Stop throwing balls at me!” Tess exclaims, chucking the ball back.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend!” Raven retorts. “Like, for real. It’s making me sick. Do you want me throwing up before a natty match?” Tess pauses, tapping her chin dramatically like she has to truly think about it. “I wish you’d declared last year. That way I wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this ‘when will my wife come back from war’ bullshit.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Where’s Chloe at? I suddenly have an opening in my bridal party.”

“Wait, no!” Raven says quickly, her entire expression shifting. “You can’t kick me out of the wedding. I didn’t even know I was in it!”

“You weren’t,” Tess states bluntly, which makes Raven huff again. “Kam’s my maid of honor, obviously. Then Aliyah’s coming, Bree, Destanni, Zia. Do you think I can get A’ja there?”

Raven looks her up and down, unimpressed. “No,” she says flatly. “You’ll be marrying a Husky.”

Tess lights up. “Oh my God, I can get Stewie there. That’d be cool, too.”

“How about you pump the brakes and lock the fuck in so your girlfriend doesn’t embarass us?” Raven suggests. “Like, did that ever cross your mind?”

She shrugs sheepishly. “I’m locked in,” she says. “Go do your weird pregame rituals, sacrifice a chicken or something.”

Raven rolls her eyes, stalking away with her ball. Tess watches her try to sweet talk an assistant coach into rebounding for her and she can’t help but smile. She’ll miss Raven when she’s in the league – sure, they’ll keep in contact, but it’s different when you’re no longer a few doors down from everyone. She’ll miss all of her girls. Not Ashlyn, though. The charges may have been dropped but assault and battery and kidnapping? Is nobody the least bit concerned? Tess digresses, though. She’s gonna miss her team, especially annoying ass Raven Johnson who likes throwing shit at people.

Before she returns to her own warmups, Tess looks across the court once more. Paige is already staring at her. They share a soft, private smile – and then Paige is grabbing Sarah by the sleeve of her shirt, causing her shot to sail out of bounds as Paige points at her with a proud smile that clearly says look at my freshman! Sarah looks unbelievably confused at first, but levels Paige with a nasty side eye once she realizes that she’s been dragged in as a ploy to tease Tess. She shrugs out of Paige’s grasp to continue shooting which makes Tess laugh and Paige huff dramatically.

The both of them resume their warmups and before they know it, tip off has come around. Paige, Sarah, Azzi, Jana, and Kaitlyn are starting for UConn, whereas Raven, Chloe, Tess, Sania, and Te-Hina are starting for South Carolina. Both teams set up around Chloe and Jana to receive the opening tip, and once the referee throws the ball into the air, Jana knocks it over to the Huskies. Sarah kicks it out to Paige, who begins directing traffic as she brings the ball up court. Tess, tasked with guarding Azzi, sticks on her like glue, trying to not let her get her hands on the ball. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but Sarah gets open and Paige passes it swiftly to her. As Chloe and Sania fold in on her to prevent the shot, Sarah passes to Jana, who gets the easy layup under the bucket. Sania inbounds to Raven. She’s delayed in bringing the ball up due to Kaitlyn’s defensive pressure, and, much to Tess’s surprise, Paige is guarding her and Azzi is on Te-Hina.

Raven dribbles, directing the other four on the court while trying to keep the ball far away from Kaitlyn, but the congestion becomes too much and she passes it to Te-Hina. Azzi’s defense is relentless, too, and eventually, Te-Hina passes to Sania, who passes to Tess on the wing, and she knows she can’t get crafty. She and Paige spent the entire summer in the gym together. Paige knows her moves as well as she knows her own, which is why she keeps pressing her further and further away from the three point line and Jana angles herself to clog her lane to the bucket. The clock is winding down, so she makes the decision to squeeze past Paige, driving to the bucket, but at the last moment, she passes it behind her back to where she knows Sania is waiting. She shoots and it swishes in.

The first quarter is incredibly close. Every time South Carolina gets a defensive stop, UConn responds with one of their own. A two-point jumper is countered by a layup, Azzi and Tess go three for three. Tess steals the ball on one possession, although Chloe gives it right back as she tries to get smart on a pass. By the first media timeout, Tess has five points, two assists, and a steal, although UConn leads them 14-12. Both teams take the time to sub out and let some of the starters rest. Bree, Ashlyn, MiLaysia, and Joyce come in for Tess, Chloe, Te-Hina, and Sania respectively while KK, Aubrey, Ashlynn, and Ice enter for Kaitlyn, Sarah, Azzi, and Jana.

Once play resumes, Tess almost immediately understands the game plan. Raven guards Paige on UConn’s offensive possessions, but when South Carolina has the ball, Paige guards MiLaysia, a high scoring guard just like Tess. Depending on who is on the floor, KK or Kaitlyn defend Raven or whoever is running point for South Carolina at the time. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but most of all, exhausting – tasking someone else with guarding Raven gives Paige more opportunities to score rather than tire herself out, but her own defensive assignments are focused on shutting down South Carolina’s point producing guards. Tess was held to five points with Paige on her, shooting only two out of her five attempted shots. She wasn’t completely useless, though – she held Azzi to six points, congesting two of the four shots she took.

She sits for the rest of the first quarter. The score is up to 25-20 in UConn’s favor and all of the starters are back on the court for the second quarter. It’s hard fought, too. There’s not a lot of foul calls going either way tonight, but the lead is so slim that Tess doesn’t want to overstep on defense and give away points. At 31-24 in favor of UConn, Paige is subbed out for KK, which means Tess finally gets a bit of a breather on defense. KK is unrelenting, but Paige had played a little closer, a much tighter game as she knew Tess so well as a player. She couldn’t even be mad about that, although she did take advantage of two back-to-back threes, pushing the score to 34-30. UConn still has a slight lead, but Paige gets subbed back in. Tess knows she has to play smarter now and take better shots.

Halfway through the second quarter, Raven gets subbed out for a breather, too, and UConn immediately puts the pressure on Maddy, not used to the intensity that the UConn starters were playing with. Kaitlyn forces a turnover, sailing it high to Paige, who lays it in the basket with ease and winks at Tess as she passes her to get back on defense. In response, Tess calls for the ball and Maddy passes it to her. She doesn’t call for a screen or any sort of help as she steps back, shooting for three directly over Paige’s head. They watch it both fall in seamlessly, much to the crowd’s amusement, and Tess sticks up her fingers in an ‘L’ shape as she backpedals for defense. Paige shakes her head, amused, but at 41-38, the both of them know they need to lock back in.

The two teams trade a few more shots and stops before the end of the quarter, entering half with 47-41, UConn leading. Paige also hit a nasty buzzer beater to welcome in halftime, which sent the UConn bench and the crowd into a frenzy, but Tess doesn’t think that’s something important to note. Paige doesn’t need the ego boost and it wasn’t that cool, anyways. If Tess wanted to, she could have had a better buzzer beater.

In the locker room, Coach Staley emphasizes the need for defensive stops while the team catches their breath. Ball movement and being selective with shooting was also important – as a team, they were shooting 39% and taking far too many contested shots when there were wide open players on the wing. Tess honestly couldn’t be doing much more – she’d racked up 16 points. Joyce and Te-Hina were doing their thing too, but UConn was overwhelming. Their points were far more widespread with Aubrey, Sarah, Azzi, and Paige leading the pack. Ashlynn had two crucial three point shots, KK was critical on defense as she was forcing turnovers and fastbreak points, and Tess has never seen anyone hustle for rebounds like Morgan does. UConn was playing a cohesive game and they were struggling to respond in full.

The second half goes similar to the first, although UConn starts to make a concerted effort to break away. They’re playing with a renewed vigor and while Azzi, Paige, and Ashlynn were crucial in the first half, they start scoring a lot more points in the paint. Sarah, Jana, and Aubrey are particularly explosive and Ice holds her own when she subs in halfway through the third to give Jana a break. Defensively, they’re all restless – they’d played so conservatively in the first half while South Carolina tried to wear them out that their energy is overwhelming and is exhausting South Carolina. By the end of the third, UConn had extended the lead to 67-56. Tess is up to 26 points now, but it’s not doing enough to clear the deficit.

All of the starters are back on the floor at the beginning of the fourth for one last push, and for a while, it works. South Carolina holds out UConn and they go on a 9-0 scoring run, evening the score to 67-65 with three minutes left. Paige hits a long three, increasing the lead to five points, Azzi forces Te-Hina to turn the ball over and she sprints for the basket, although she passes behind her to Sarah for the finish, and Tess is a little too strong on her three point jumper and it bounces off the rim directly into Kaitlyn’s hands. She scores, pushing the score to 74-65. One minute, thirty seconds left.

The last bit of the game is frantic. Tess and South Carolina try to get the lead back, but UConn is unrelenting, pushing against them on every possession. Jana scores. Sania scores. Kaitlyn shoots, but Raven blocks it. Chloe scores on the fastbreak, and with twenty seconds left, the game is up to 78-69 with UConn steady in the lead. There’s no coming back from this gap and UConn has the ball. Tess thinks Paige just plans on dribbling it out, but as the clock winds down, five…four…three…two… she shoots from the perimeter, the shot clock expiring, and the last three, the nail on the head, swishes in cleanly as the crowd erupts. UConn had just won the 2025 national championship, and all Tess feels is overwhelming relief.

Confetti pours down, covering every inch of the court as all of the Huskies swarm and pile on one another. Paige’s smile is bright, beaming, and Tess swears she can see the tears streaming from afar. Then, they lock eyes, Paige in the middle of a bunch of jostling, and she has the decency to look a little sad for her, but honestly, Tess doesn’t care. She grins at her girlfriend, making a heart with her hands. The relief is palpable on Paige’s expression but Tess knows she needs the time to celebrate with her teammates, so she turns away, patting her own teammates on the back and murmuring her own congratulations.

Sania and Joyce were explosive in the paint. A vast majority of their points had come from them and Tess, but it just wasn’t enough to beat the deficit. Tess would find the stat sheet later, but she racked up 31 points – 61 in two back to back championship games wasn’t too shabby, and honestly, the 31 points feels more like an accomplishment than the win. She’s a competitor, she lives to win and loathes losing, but tonight doesn’t feel like a loss at all, despite what the box score will say. Looking back at everything she’s accomplished, she’s satisfied where she is. She’s grown as a player, as a person. She went from almost being the cause of her end in her junior year to dragging herself out of the deep end, committing to rehab, and winning the natty on the redemption match. This year, she molded herself into a better basketball player, cementing herself in the Gamecock record books – and while she doesn’t have a natty win this year, she’s not mad about it. It’s difficult to describe but at a certain point, the win just doesn’t matter anymore. It’s the journey, growing with your team, and everything you did leading up to it.

Last year, she said she has everything she’s ever wanted, and that much is still true. She has her rings, she has an excellent collegiate career, she has records that will be damn near impossible to beat until the next Tess Kennedy is recruited to South Carolina. She has the best friends in the world, the best girlfriend in the world, her knee is healed, she’s healed, and in less than two weeks, she’ll be drafted to play professionally wherever the wind takes her. The past two years have been the best and the worst time of her life but never will she ever wish that anything occurred differently. It’s all led her to this – her wins, her losses, to Paige. It’s more than she could have ever wished for.

She showers, zones out during the presser until the questions are directed at her, which she answers robotically, uncaring. When she’s out, she locates Paige in the tunnel, who scoops her up with such unadulterated glee and excitement that Tess giggles like a fucking schoolgirl. Paige is fresh, clean, and fuck it, she’s hers, and sue her if she sounds like a broken record, but she just loves her. “Congrats, baby,” Tess says into her neck, feeling Paige squeeze her around the middle before she lowers her to the ground.

“Thank you,” Paige murmurs as she presses a soft, unhurried kiss to Tess’s lips. “Promise you didn’t sell on purpose?”

Tess scoffs, shoving her away with a hand to her chest as Paige laughs, a sound that’s infectious and far too annoyingly charming. “Paige Madison. I dropped 31 on your ass and you think I sold?”

“Locked you down,” Paige says.

“Maybe romantically but not in basketball,” Tess corrects. Paige’s face brightens and Tess can’t help but lean in to kiss her again. “Congrats though, for real.” Paige’s eyes blink open, tilting her head down slightly to gaze at Tess, her expression full of lingering excitement, love, and unequivocal happiness. “You worked so hard for this. I’m proud of you, you know? 28 points, too? Who you showin’ out for?”

Paige laughs at Tess’s impression of her. “For you, always.” Tess can’t help but soften, grinning in that stupid way Paige always elicits. “We’re goin’ out,” she says. “The team, I mean. Some bar Aubrey found. You wanna come with us? You don’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna and they’re all keepin’ it lowkey, nothin’ crazy–”

“Paige,” Tess interrupts, watching an adorable flush appear on Paige’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about me. Celebrate with your team, okay?”

“I’m always gonna worry about you,” Paige says, a little indignant. “You’re my girl. S’my job. But I want you there if you wanna be there.”

“You’re amazing, and I love you.”

Paige sighs. “Where’s the ‘but?’”

Tess rolls her eyes. “But you need to spend time with your team. Alone, without your unbelievably sexy girlfriend distracting you. You’re gonna miss them once you’re drafted. I need to chill tonight, so I’m gonna play UNO with my girls and stack +4s on Chloe to get her back for missing a layup that would have made our score look a little less pathetic.” Tess kisses the pout off of Paige’s lips. “I could convince Bree to room with Raven tonight?” she suggests intentionally.

“Okay!” Paige agrees quickly, her voice cracking, squeezing Tess’s hips once more, causing her to laugh lightly. Paige presses her lips to Tess’s forehead, the shorter of the two feeling the curve of her smirk. “I’ll see you later. Don’t fall asleep. I love you.”

Tess huffs, which makes Paige grin. She loves being on Tess’s nerves more than anything else. “I love you, too. Have fun and don’t drink anything KK gives you.”

Paige only shakes her head, their noses brushing slightly. “Not drinking. Wanna remember tonight.” Heat rises to Tess’s cheeks as she’s suddenly aware of what the night holds for them, but Paige just smiles at her, releasing her hips and squeezing her hand one last time before she disappears inside the media room for the presser. Tess exhales, shaking her head like an etch-a-sketch to fix her train of thought before she gathers herself and makes her way out to the team bus.

She slides into the seat next to Bree, placing her bag on the floor. “You’re rooming with Raven tonight,” Tess says to her.

Bree stares at her long and hard before her expression hardens. “You’re a fucking freak,” she gripes. “But you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow morning.” In lieu of a response, Tess pulls her wallet out of her pocket and hands over a $20 bill. Bree wrinkles her nose, her face going through the five stages of grief. Tess can’t even bring herself to feel ashamed as Bree takes the money. “God,” she whispers. “Freaks.”

Tess only smiles.

After a couple hours of music and various games, Tess says her final goodbyes to her teammates before she heads back to her room at the end of the hall. Paige had texted her only moments before that she was on her way back to the hotel, which she took as her cue to go. Her teammates gave her knowing looks, but Tess couldn’t find it in herself to be any sort of embarrassed.

Bree had cleared out most of her stuff before they all gathered in Raven’s room for games, but Tess just makes the conscious effort to clean up a little. She knew Paige wouldn’t care. Whether or not Bree’s bed was made would be the last thing on Paige’s mind if Tess had anything to say about it. Despite that, she just wanted it to look nicer for her. Paige had just won a championship, damn it, and she deserves something a little more fitting of that.

Tess isn’t nervous, but she’s almost giddy with anticipation and excitement. The last time she and Paige saw each other was when they played each other in February. They were unable to synchronize their schedules for spring break, so Tess is reasonably going through girlfriend withdrawals. She just wants to be close to Paige – nothing inherently sexual about it, but she misses their intimacy now that they’re always hundreds of miles apart. It will be the same situation when they get drafted – Tess watched the lottery despite everyone’s recommendations not to, but they’ll have a little bit more money and freedom to make the distance work once they’re in the league. But the league is the last thing she wants to worry about right now.

She checks herself one last time in the mirror, satisfied, but she pulls off her South Carolina hoodie, shivering a little at the chill in the room, and rummages through her suitcase until she finds the white jersey tucked underneath the rest of her clothes. A large 5 is emblazoned on the front and the back, the Big East logo on the collar, just a size too big for her – she’d stolen it directly from Paige’s bag when they played each other in February and they hung out after the game, but she supposes her lie was just convincing enough because Paige genuinely thought she left it in the locker room. She pulls the hoodie over her head, not bothering to tuck it into her sleep shorts, and gives herself one last look before smiling.

A knock at the door draws her attention. Finding her resolve, she walks over and opens it, coming face to face with Paige, whose cheeks are slightly flushed from the Tampa heat. “Hey – oh.” Paige stops in her tracks immediately, her eyes wide as she takes in Tess’s attire. Her jaw hangs open slightly as she leans against the door.

Tess laughs, reaching for Paige’s hands and pulling her inside. Paige lets herself be dragged, but she remembers where they are and closes the door, setting the lock without looking away from Tess. “You like?” Tess asks, tugging on the hem of the jersey to showcase Paige’s number. She smiles at Paige, a little smug but also a little breathless. Paige isn’t sure where to look – her face, her jersey, her legs, long and lithe and bare with the exception of a pair of shorts that would otherwise be indecent. “Figured I’d try something new.”

“Do I like?” Paige repeats, sounding a little incredulous. Her voice is rough and Tess shivers, feeling the heat pool low in her belly as Paige rests her hands on her hips, her fingertips brushing the swell of her ass. She pulls Tess into her until there’s barely an inch of space in between them – Tess can feel Paige breathing against her, her breath minty and fresh, her cologne so prominent and heady in the air that Tess’s head spins. “Like doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she murmurs, her lips dragging across the line of Tess’s jaw. Tess tilts her head back, giving Paige more access as she sighs softly. Paige’s fingers bunch in the fabric of her jersey as she noses her way down her neck, pressing wet kisses to her skin. A groan builds low in the back of her throat as she pulls away, her eyes blown wide and slightly out of breath. “D’you have any idea what this does to me?”

Tess chuckles, letting Paige lead her towards the bed, trusting her to not let her fall over. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. Paige smiles at her, softening the heat of the moment. Tess can’t help the grin that covers her face as she pulls Paige on top of her, sliding her zip up UConn jacket off of her shoulders. Paige situates herself in the gap created by Tess’s outstretched legs, leaning down to finally press their lips together. Their kiss is tender, lingering, and slow; Paige is deliberate in the way her hand slips under Tess’s jersey, her fingers brushing against her skin, and Tess sighs against her. They part and the expression on Paige’s face is so soft, blissed out like she has everything she’s ever wanted right in front of her. That thought alone fills Tess with an overwhelming amount of love and appreciation that she can’t help her starstruck smile. “You played really well today,” she whispers, working her fingers against Paige’s hair tie as she loosens her braids.

Paige hums, her eyes closing when Tess’s fingers drag across her scalp. “Says you,” she retorts, her head dropping to Tess’s shoulder. Her lips find her neck again, nipping gently and soothing the bite with a pass of her tongue. “31 fuckin’ points?” Paige emphasizes her words with an emphatic groan, her hands pushing up Tess’s jersey and her fingertips just barely breaching under her bra strap. “You tryna go to Dallas?”

Tess laughs, tangling her fingers through Paige’s hair as the blonde hides her smile against her neck. “Nah. That’s all you. I’m very happy going number two.”

Paige scoffs. “Yeah, ‘cause you get Cam and Rickea.”

Tess smiles knowingly, rolling her eyes. “Your hand is literally under my shirt and you wanna talk about other people right now?” Paige glances down, her brows raising and her eyes lingering on just how far the jersey is bunched up, miles upon miles of Tess’s tanned skin on display.

“Take this shit off,” she says, hands reaching for the hem of the jersey. Tess raises her arms compliantly and Paige pulls it over her head, throwing it to the side before leaning down and connecting their lips again. Tess relaxes immediately, circling her arms around Paige’s neck, drawing her in closer and closer until the space between them is negligible. Paige’s hands are warm against her bare skin. One leaves her chest to cup her jaw, her lips slowing, controlling the pace. Every motion is purposeful, deep and lingering, until Paige pulls back just enough that her nose brushes against Tess’s. “Wanna take my time with you.”

“You won,” Tess reminds her, fighting through the burn on her cheeks as Paige presses open-mouthed kisses to her neck, her jaw. “Tonight’s for you.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees, her mind clearly elsewhere as she pulls her shirt over her head. Tess’s mouth dries instantly, her gaze unashamed as she takes in Paige’s toned figure, the definition of her abs despite the softness of her stomach. She’s equal parts sinew and grace, beautiful beyond any human measurement – Tess would never be able to put Paige’s beauty into words. She transcends language and meaning and Tess is so irrevocably in love that it should scare her; her feelings are overwhelming in the best way possible and Paige doesn’t even know the extent of it.

“Paige,” Tess tries again, her hands reaching up to push Paige’s hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, her hand returning to Tess’s jaw as she kisses her again, taking the very breath from her lungs and relishing in the sigh that she pulls from her throat. Her hand slips lower, her thumb brushing the apple of her throat while her index finger rests on her pulse point, feeling the spike in her heart rate. “Wanna take care of you,” Paige murmurs, the plea evident in her expression when she pulls away. “Want this to last, wanna feel you. Please?” She dips lower, her lips pressing against her skin, and Tess doesn’t have any choice but to let Paige have her way. She nods, her hands finding purchase on Paige’s shoulder blades as Paige descends further, her lips leaving marks over her clavicles.

Paige undresses the both of them with a deliberate slowness. Her hands roam like she’s trying to commit every inch of Tess’s body to memory, her eyes wide in wonder. Paige stares at her like it’s the first time all over again and it makes Tess shiver, feeling warmth all over. They spent the entire offseason together, late nights in hotel rooms much like this one as they travelled. They’re far from the first time, but the fact that Paige still handles her with the utmost care, respect, and devotion only makes her needier.

When they’re both bare, the first press of Paige’s skin against her own is electrifying. She draws Paige in again, connecting their lips, relishing in the soft, unhurried push and pull as Paige’s hands roam. They’re firm around her hips, her thumbs brushing the area where her thighs meet her pelvis. Then they’re trailing up, brushing against her navel, gripping her love handles and the parts of her stomach where she’s more skin than muscle. Further up, Paige’s hands splay out across the lower end of her ribcage. The amount of skin that her hands cover makes Tess ache, but Paige keeps wandering, her hands cupping her breasts, thumbs tweaking her nipples. Tess sighs at the contact and Paige immediately takes advantage of the way her jaw drops, deepening their kiss as Tess holds on to her shoulders for stability.

She can feel the flex of Paige’s muscle, see the way her shoulder blades jut out slightly – it shouldn’t excite her, but it does. She’s firm, solid, soft, and human, a paradox and a myriad of different feelings. Tess can’t help but be attracted to every single thing she does and every single thing she is. God took his time creating Paige, that much Tess was sure of; the fact that Paige is hers, for better, for worse, forever, makes her feel like she needs to be far more thankful than she already is.

Paige pulls back. Tess nearly whines at the loss of contact until she takes in the blown out and messy look on Paige’s face. Her lips are swollen, spit-slick, covered in the lingering smear of Tess’s lip gloss. “Okay?” she asks, her voice rough. The check-in is just a reminder of how much Paige loves her. It never fails to make her heart beat out of her chest.

Tess nods, her hands coming up to smooth out the baby hairs at the back of Paige’s neck, damp with sweat. “Keep going,” she requests, closing her eyes when she feels Paige kiss her cheek, her jaw, the spot under her ear that makes her shiver.

“Wanna try something with you,” she murmurs, squeezing her around the hips, and Tess blinks her eyes open to stare at her. A new, shy sort of flush creeps up her neck and Tess gives her a reassuring kiss.

“Anything,” she says, her voice soft, albeit a little breathless. “You know I trust you.”

Paige glances up, searching her eyes for any hint of falsehood. When she finds none, she leans in, kissing Tess one last time before pulling back. “Tell me to stop and I will,” she says. Tess nods again, waiting with a bated breath as Paige pulls back completely, much to her chagrin, but her hands find her knees, spreading her legs wider, slotting her own legs under and over Tess’s thighs like puzzle pieces, and – Oh. They haven’t even made full contact but her entire body burns. Paige is just as red, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. “Okay?” she asks again, her words sounding a little choked.

Tess nods rapidly, not trusting herself to speak, but her words spill out anyway. “Please,” she says, looping her arms around her neck again. Paige nods, too, her breath a little shaky, but she connects their lips, swallowing the greedy sound that Tess makes when their cores finally align. Her fingers dig into Paige’s shoulders, eliciting a groan from the blonde as she rolls her hips experimentally. Paige is warm against her, slick against her skin, and the brush of her clit against her own nearly makes her soul leave her body.

Her head tilts back, overcome with euphoria and pleasure, and Paige takes advantage immediately. Her lips are on her neck before she has the chance to react, sucking dark, purple marks on her skin, soothing the sting with her tongue. Tess pushes her hips into Paige’s, causing her rhythm to falter and a whine to fall from her lips. Tess really likes that sound, when Paige succumbs to the feelings and lets her hear it. “Fuck,” Paige whimpers. “That’s it.”

That sends a wave of heat directly to Tess’s core. She ruts up again, relishing in Paige’s exhaled moan, the way her elbows shake as she tries to hold herself up. Each and every roll of her hips adds to the tightening band in her stomach, threatening to snap as her pleasure builds – but it feels like she’s reached a plateau. She pushes against her a little faster, trying to chase the high, which forces more of those sounds to tumble from Paige’s mouth. The feel of her skin against hers, sticky with sweat, is intoxicating in the best way possible; the roll of her hips sets her nerves on fire; and when she glances down, her eyes honing in on where their bodies connect, Tess grips her shoulders a little tighter as she cries out, her nails leaving marks in their wake. “Paige,” she gasps, feeling Paige’s nose brush against her collarbone, licking the salt off of her skin. “Talk, please.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice a little broken and high-pitched as she holds out, trying to make Tess reach her peak first. The sound of her so wrecked, so destroyed makes Tess tremble beneath her. “Wanted you to – fuck, wanted you to come with me earlier,” she babbles. Tess barely registers that she means the bar. “Wanted to show you off. Tell everyone you’re mine. Wanted to kiss you in front of everyone, take you back here – fuck, Tess, right there – take you back here and show you how much I want you.”

“Keep going, please,” she begs. Tears of pleasure bead at her waterline. The brush of their cunts and the whine in Paige’s voice makes her dizzy with desire.

Paige sighs, the sound getting trapped in her throat as her lips find her ear, her ruts becoming a little more desperate. And when Tess’s hips jump up again, seeking out that pleasure, Paige’s breath catches. She leans her head against Tess’s shoulder, her body tense with the effort of trying to stay composed. “God, there you go,” she murmurs, her breath fanning against the shell of her ear. “Take it, baby, whatever you need – gonna give it to you, I promise.”

Tess whimpers, her grip tightening as she rolls her hips against Paige’s, her pleasure building and nearing the peak as she confesses, “Paige, I’m gonna–”

“That’s it,” Paige whimpers, meeting Tess’s hips with more purpose, more intensity, guiding her closer and closer. When Paige keens into her ear, her voice cracking, “Fuck, I love you – so perfect for me,” Tess falls apart completely, clutching onto Paige as her orgasm washes over her. Paige is right behind her; Tess can feel her release, her body shuddering against her own. They rock together as they ease through the aftershocks, drawing back when the sensitivity becomes too much.

Carefully, Paige extracts herself from Tess, the both of them exhaling when they disconnect. Paige rolls onto the bed next to her, her head finding home on Tess’s chest as she slings an arm across her stomach. Neither of them say anything for a while, sitting in a satisfied silence as they try to catch their breaths. It’s Tess who finally breaks the quiet when she says, “I think you ruined me.”

That makes Paige laugh, still breathless. She cocks her head, meeting Tess’s eyes. Gingerly, she wipes away the tears on her cheeks, smooths out the hair at the crown of her head. “Good,” she murmurs, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to Tess’s lips, a stark contrast from the moment prior. “Gotta trap you so you stay with me forever.”

Tess snorts, brushing her nails against Paige’s jaw and cheek gently. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that.” Paige hums, her fingertips tracing patterns against her ribcage as their breathing finally evens out. A few moments pass. “Are you sleeping?” Tess asks, a little shy.

“Yes,” Paige deadpans, but she turns her head again, smiling up at Tess. Her expression is soft, relaxed, blissed out. “What’s up?”

Tess can’t help the smile that breaks out across her face. “I love you,” she says simply.

Paige’s entire demeanor brightens. She tightens her grip around Tess’s middle, drawing in closer and pressing her lips to her chest, directly over her heart. “I love you, too.”

Tess tangles her fingers in Paige’s hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands near her temple. Paige smiles against her, her face tranquil, happy. In a little over a week from now, they’ll be in Brooklyn together for the 2025 draft. They’ll be selected to play in the professional league, which is everything they’ve dreamed of and more, although their dreams have expanded to include each other. Tess has everything she’s ever wanted in life – an outstanding college career, a promising future, Paige, and she can’t wait for the rest of their lives together.

APRIL 14, 2025

Tess can’t believe this is her life right now.

She, her parents, and Bree and Raven are sitting at a table in the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the selected venue for the 2025 WNBA Draft. The energy in the atmosphere is electric – there’s muted chatter, excited hopefuls trying not to freak out about which team will be selecting them. Tess is a mixture of anticipation and nerves. She’s been the predicted number two draft pick for months now, only second to Paige, which she can’t even be upset by. She has a pretty good idea of where she’s going, but she can’t help being worried about dropping in the rankings – the 2025 draft class is full of young talent. She wouldn’t mind Chicago. Playing with Kam again would be amazing, and Washington isn’t bad, either. She is really interested in the Liberty, mostly because they made such a good impression on her during rehab and that’s not something she would ever forget. Unfortunately, the Liberty decided to do the worst possible thing ever and win a championship, which means they’re nowhere close to getting Tess unless they want to trade up and Tess highly doubts they’d be willing to part with their entire roster just for her.

Tess can’t keep her eyes off of Paige. It’s slowly becoming a recurring theme as of late, much to the chagrin of everyone around her, but she can’t help it. She sits only a table away, surrounded by Bob, Amy, Drew, Lauren, and Ryan. The happiness is evident on her face, her hair done up in a ponytail with two loose strands framing her face, and her make-up natural. The real nail on the coffin is the tailored suit she’s wearing. It’s a dark purple in color, nearly black; several buttons on the blazer are undone to reveal the sharp lines of her clavicle and the dark shades of her undershirt. A chain glimmers around her neck, rings adorning her fingers, including the rose thumb ring Tess had gifted her for their first Christmas, before they knew they loved each other. Tess is honestly too much of an overachiever – she picked the finest person in the world to be her girlfriend and now the repercussions of that are coming back to bite her in the ass.

Her stylist – well, Paige’s stylist, Brittany Hampton is the goat – did her big one, too. Brittany has her decked out in a rich, dark, glossy, blue satin dress. Much like Paige’s suit, the shade is dark enough that it almost appears black, but the blue hue sticks out, complementing her complexion perfectly. Her heels match (and most importantly, they’re tall enough that she and Paige are finally eye level). Her jewelry is minimalist, donning her signature bracelet and their charms, along with a gorgeous necklace Paige had bought her for their second Christmas together – the first as an official couple. The both of them look good, probably too good, and Tess is preparing herself to cut someone if they stare at Paige for too long.

Her family and friends try to make small talk to distract her from the looming draft, but her heart isn’t in the conversation. Her mind runs a mile a minute; she’s thinking about all of the iterations of the mock draft – honestly, she should have listened to Paige when she told her not to watch the draft lottery or get too invested in the draft talk, anyhow. She’s thinking about Paige, how she looks so gorgeous at her table; she’s thinking about how Paige’s dreams are coming true right before her and that chokes her up a little bit. Paige was a little kid once, just like her, dribbling a ball that was nearly as big as she was – now she’s here, the predicted number one pick and it just feels like everything’s coming into fruition. They’ve both worked incredibly hard for this, all of the trials and tribulations and injuries and miscommunication – they’re here, together, and Tess couldn’t dream of anything better than that.

Finally, the beginning of the draft rolls around as the WNBA commissioner, Cathy Engelbert, steps up to the podium for opening remarks. Tess motions to wipe her sweaty hands on her dress, but Bree’s gripping her wrists and pushing a small handcloth into her waiting palms. Bree knows her so well and Tess gives her a silent nod of thanks, a small smile. She doesn’t think she’s quite made her peace with the fact she’s leaving her girls behind after today. Training camps and final roster deliberations and the preseason all await, but Bree’s rubbing her shoulder and murmuring, “Soak it in, babe, we’re so proud of you,” and she thinks that maybe she’s on the right track.

Cathy leaves the podium to await the official first pick. Tess glances at Paige again, who is clearly dissociated as she tries to not look at the cameras that are obviously pointing at her. Then, she glances over, her eyes finding Tess’s. Her entire demeanor shifts and a bright smile spreads across her face. It’s scrunchy, somehow both soft and mischievous, but Tess knows her well enough by now to understand that smile is reserved for her only. KK called it her “Tess smile” which was a little ridiculous, but when Tess returns her grin, the love clear as day in her expression, she knows that KK’s observation had a little merit.

Cathy returns with the pick in hand. The entire room falls silent, waiting with a bated breath as the older woman leans into the microphone. “With the first pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select…Paige Bueckers, University of Connecticut.”

The room breaks into applause immediately as the tears spring to Tess’s eyes, overcome with emotion and appreciation for her girlfriend. Paige stands, embracing her parents, her siblings, and then she’s stepping towards Tess’s table, her expression so grateful and a little awestruck. Tess reminds herself that they’re in front of thousands of people, in front of prominent WNBA players and coaches as she molds herself into Paige’s arms, keeping it classy as Paige squeezes her tightly around her waist. “God, I’m so proud of you,” Tess murmurs, feeling Paige’s shoulders shake a little bit with her emotions. “I love you. Go get your jersey.”

Paige huffs out a laugh, releasing Tess as she wipes at her waterline. “I love you. See you soon,” she says, winking at her, which makes Tess chuckle, taking a seat and watching Paige make her way to the stage. Tess pulls out her phone, taking photo after photo as Paige poses with the commissioner and the Wings jersey.

Holly Rowe talks her through a couple of interview questions, her responses making the crowd aww or applaud, and soon enough, she’s returning to her table, embracing her family once more and smiling gently at Tess. Cathy returns to the podium after allowing the allotted time for the next selection.

“With the second pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Los Angeles Sparks select…Tess Kennedy, University of South Carolina.”

Tess doesn’t register it at first until her family and friends are cheering, their applause loud, and Tess finally snaps back into reality as she stands with an elated, shocked laugh. She pulls Raven and Bree into her arms, her teammates whispering their congratulations before her parents pull her into bone-crushing embraces. And finally, she makes her way to Paige’s table – she was polite for Paige’s pick, but this is different now; it’s hers and after what she’s been through, she can’t find it in herself to care much for what’s proper. She throws herself into Paige’s arms, squeezing tight enough that anyone else would have complained, but Paige holds onto her with the same intensity as she murmurs, “So proud of you, baby. You and me, huh?”

Tess laughs, the sound tearful. “You and me,” she affirms, releasing her girlfriend, and she makes her way up to the podium where Cathy holds out the yellow and purple jersey to her. She takes it, her fingers trembling a little.

When she makes it down, the reporter waiting for her isn’t Holly Rowe. She’s blonde, radiant, and shorter than Tess, but Tess gets the strangest feeling like she knows her. She glances down at the lanyard around her neck, the media pass reading P. LANCASTER. Tess grins. “Tess, you were just selected number two overall for the 2025 WNBA Draft. Can you tell me what was going through your mind leading up to the pick?”

“Um, ‘don’t throw up,’” she answers honestly. Her candor makes the crowd laugh. She chuckles, feeling some of the pressure ease off of her as she gives a proper answer, the usual ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was a kid,’ and ‘I’m so grateful to be here and this is an honor that I don’t take lightly.’

The reporter talks her through a few more questions, such as how excited she is to be working with the Sparks. Between Cameron and Rickea, Tess feels like she’s in good hands, and knowing that Lynne Roberts, the new head coach, is a huge fan of three-point shooting, she feels like there’s a lot she can bring to the team. The reporter asks a fluff question about getting used to the Los Angeles heat, to which Tess jokingly responds with, “Well, I hear Dallas is hotter.” That makes a small smile appear on the reporter’s face.

“Speaking of Dallas,” she segues, which makes a knowing smile spread across Tess’s face. “Your girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, was just drafted there. The two of you met twice in national championships in college – can we expect some exciting match-ups between the two of you in the W?”

“Of course,” Tess says coyly. “We’re 1-1 on championship wins right now. I’m looking to add a couple more of those to my resume, and if that means beating my girlfriend? Even better.”

Penelope Lancaster thanks her for her time as the crowd applauds once more. Tess makes her way back to her table, smiling smugly at Paige, who rolls her eyes, but the love in her expression is hard to hide. The rest of the draft passes in a blur, as does the afterparty they’re both invited to afterwards. It’s well past midnight when they leave the club, their hair a mess from dancing and Paige’s blazer settled over Tess’s shoulders to stave off the late night chill. Paige already has an Uber called to take them back to Tess’s parents’ house and she pulls Tess into her side as they wait outside.

There’s something so magical about the night, about the energy in the atmosphere. The bass from the music reverberates and Paige sings along to whatever rap song is playing from inside, her body warm against Tess’s, and she finds that she suddenly can’t take it anymore. The overwhelming emotion in her chest, ready to burst at the seams, the sheer happiness and hope and gratitude that seeps from every pore in her body. She wraps both of her arms around Paige’s waist, resting her head over her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Paige quiets down, a little confused, but she melts into their embrace until there’s no air left between them.

Tess doesn’t know how to put it into words – she doesn’t think she ever will. She’s so in love, even after a year together officially. There was a point in her life where she didn’t think she’d be here. She didn’t think she would be able to heal, that she would be able to play basketball again, that she would be drafted to pursue her dream professionally. She never thought romance was in the cards for her, that she would ever find someone like Paige – that she would find Paige herself; she never thought she would be in love or that someone would be in love with her, too. It’s surreal, encompassing, and call her cheesy or down bad or whatever, but she can’t wait to live life with Paige.

“You okay?” Paige asks softly, her fingers trailing up and down Tess’s back soothingly.

“I’m perfect,” Tess responds, smiling against Paige’s skin. “I just love you.”

Paige’s hand leaves her back, but it’s not long before she’s cupping Tess’s cheek and drawing her closer to her until their lips touch. It’s soft, unhurried, a promise. It’s just as electric as the first time, as warm, as perfect. Paige breaks away long enough to whisper “I love you, too,” and then she’s sweeping back in, kissing Tess with the vow of forever. When she first met Paige, almost two years ago, she’d told her that home was a feeling. Right here, wrapped up in Paige’s arms, kissing her under the streetlight as they get ready to walk into what is the beginning of their life together, Tess knows in her heart that she’s finally made it home.

‘Happily Ever Draft-er’

In April of 2025, the Dallas Wings and the Los Angeles Sparks drafted Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy first and second overall. Every basketball fan knew that Bueckers and Kennedy were sure bets for the top two picks. If there was one thing that the WNBA season could promise us, it was the match-ups between Bueckers and Kennedy – they certainly came around more often than they did when Bueckers and Kennedy were in college. They sold out arenas with many fans vying to see their clash, and they did not disappoint. Each game was intense, hard fought until the very last second.

In their rookie year, Bueckers and Kennedy helped lead their teams to the playoffs, although they both fell short – the Wings lost 2-0 to the Aces, while the Sparks lost 2-1 to the Liberty. In their second year, the Wings forged ahead to the semi-finals where they lost 3-2 to the Fever whereas the Sparks were defeated by the Sun 2-0 in the first round. Their third year was the complete opposite – the Wings lost to the Valkyries 2-1 in the first round, although the Sparks lost 3-1 to the Lynx in the semi-finals.

Their fourth year, the last of their rookie contracts, was long anticipated. In the first round of the playoffs, the Wings defeated the Storm in a clean 2-0 sweep. Similarly, the Sparks sent the Dream packing 2-0. Then, in the semi-finals, the Wings plowed through the Lynx 3-2 while the Sparks dominated the Fever 3-1. The finals match that everyone had been waiting for – the Wings versus the Sparks was underway. This would be the first year that the WNBA implemented a 7 game series.

The WNBA finals were back and forth. The Sparks took home the first win, the Wings took home the second and the third, although the Sparks bounced back with the fourth and the fifth. The Wings beat the Sparks on their sixth game in an overtime thriller, tying the series 3-3 and forcing a game seven. Bueckers and Kennedy were electric on the court, averaging 30 points in the postseason, but ultimately, the Sparks won the WNBA championship.

When approached for a comment, Kennedy stated, “Well, Paige won Rookie of the Year, so I think it’s fitting that I get a ring first.” Bueckers, who was standing next to her, rolled her eyes, but she seemed smug, as though she had another trick up her sleeve. Kennedy continued, “We’re free agents, so who knows who’s winning the chip after this.”

Bueckers did, in fact, have another trick up her sleeve as it was announced early in the offseason that she and Kennedy had gotten engaged in Italy, close to Kennedy’s hometown. Bueckers shared their engagement photos on her Instagram, captioning it, “Her favorite ring of them all 💍”. Shortly after, Bueckers and Kennedy shared their free agency picks – they’d both landed with the Golden State Valkyries alongside 2026 Rookie of the Year Azzi Fudd.

We’re eagerly awaiting the tipoff for the 2029 WNBA season. Bueckers and Kennedy have been rivals for nine years, falling in love despite it all. Finally, for the first time ever, we get to witness the union of the titans rather than their clash. We get to witness a team where Bueckers and Kennedy combine their strengths, and all we have to say is good luck to the rest of the league. The Golden State Valkyries will be a name that we will be hearing for a very long time, especially now that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy have settled down in the Bay and have made San Francisco their home.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 8

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Whoever writes Bizarro dialogue regularly should get an award. Just saying.

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 8

Dear Daddy Long Legs  

That was stupid. Please ignore me.  

First, to address the elephant in the room, yes, I skipped several days of class while I recovered from a concussion. It was the usual Gotham bullshit. You know how it is. I hated every second of my self-isolation, well most of it, at least.  

My professors were gracious and gave me extensions on my work. All except my philosophy professor who is, in fact, a raging asshole with a superiority complex. He told me I should have considered the hazards of living in Gotham and planned for the inevitable accordingly. Seriously. Those were his exact words. I have the email chain to prove it. Luckily, there’s a girl in my class who offered to take notes for me. I should be back up to speed in no time.  

We’re reading the Robert Fitzgerald translation of the Odyssey in my English class. He does a good job, but my friend suggested I give the Emily Wilson translation a try.  

Bruce.   

Bruce.    

Or however you want me to address you.  

It’s phenomenal. The lilting prose, the use of iambic pentameter to create a rhythm. Compared to Fitzgerald, it feels accessible and modern. I tried to bring it up in my class discussion and my professor stopped me. He said Wilson’s translation was fanciful fluff.  

Excuse me? Last I checked, he wasn’t an expert in Ancient Greek. As my friend said, we should study multiple translations to fully understand the intent of the source…  

Jason hid a smile with his palm as he read your letter. You spent the next few pages outlining why your professor’s opinion was objectively wrong. It was fascinating the difference one letter could make, and he half-expected to find an annotated bibliography at the end of your long rant.  

You wrote without inhibition now that you’d scaled the hurdle of the first letter. He could spend hours analyzing your argument and crafting his fictitious counterargument, but his attention snagged on one sentence.  

A friend suggested I give the Emily Wilson translation a try.  

You called him a friend.  

He tried not to read into it. That was the simplest way to describe your relationship with him, even if the term didn’t quite fit. You were never going to tell Bruce Wayne that you took a book recommendation from Red Hood (though it would have been hilarious if you had).  

Bruce Wayne’s heart would have stopped. He, on the other hand, was having a difficult time controlling his.  

Friend, friend, friend…  

Selfishly, he wanted it to be true. If you two were friends, he could have these conversations with you like a normal person. Two letters weren’t nearly enough. He probably had another waiting, but he didn’t have time to check before he left with the Outlaws. Patience had never been one of his strong points, and he was paying for it dearly now.  

“ Jason. ”  

Artemis snatched the pages from his hands. He caught himself on the far arm of her seat, narrowly avoiding falling onto her lap. She held the pages over her head and his seatbelt kept him pinned in place.  

“You are distracted,” she said.   

“I was totally listening.”  

“Then what did I say?”  

He pursed his lips, still holding himself up with one hand and the other outstretched toward her. She arched a brow in a silent challenge, and Jason was too stubborn to back down.  

“Trick question. You didn’t say anything.”  

Bizarro shook his head from his seat across the row. One earbud hung free so he could hear the conversation. “Right move.”  

“Shut up, Biz.”  

Artemis shoved his head away. It was surprisingly gently given he knew she could launch him across the cabin if she wanted to. “If we are to succeed, we need your full attention. I do not take kindly to half-assed effort, especially for something as ornery as…” She scanned the letter, her frown deepening. “What the fuck is this? Why did they call you daddy ?”  

Heat bloomed across his cheeks as he reached for the pages again. “Nothing!”  

Bizarro perked up with a grin. “It looks like nothing.”  

Jason snarled, “ Shut up .”  

“The truth, Jason.”   

She handed the pages back to him. He tucked them away in his coat. “She’s just a —” He refused to feed the delusion and call you a friend. “Let’s call her a pen pal and leave it there.”  

Artemis squinted. “And you are making your pal call you daddy?”  

He choked on air. “She didn’t—”  

Well, technically you did .  

“I swear, it’s not like that.”  

“You fool everyone, my enemy,” Bizarro muttered under his breath. His attention fell back to the movie playing on his phone.  

“Seriously. It’s not. Just let me explain.”  

He spent the next thirty minutes relaying the events that transpired thus far—no details spared. Maybe that was his mistake. Some details, he realized, could have remained unsaid. Namely the fact that he’d spent the better part of an hour on your floor so you wouldn’t see his face as he read to you. There were probably better ways to do it, but he panicked and that was the result.  

When he finished, he settled back and waited for one of them to speak. Bizarro and Artemis shared a long look, their faces confirming what he already knew. He crossed his arms, fingers bunching the leather of his sleeves.  

“Say something. Please.”  

Artemis spoke first, “So, you are stalking this woman?”  

Jason blanched. “W-What? No.”  

“This no sound like a good horror movie,” Bizarro agreed, his brow pitched in veritable confusion, “You no act like Batman.”  

“Bizarro has a point. I would expect his bullshit from Batman or one of your brothers, but not you. It’s a little creepy, keeping tabs on her like you would a charge.”  

“That’s not—I’m not…”  

He struggled to catch his breath. No matter how he spun it, this looked bad. It might seem normal for someone like Bruce or Tim whose love language included constant surveillance and extensive profiling, but Jason didn’t want to be compared to them. “Fuck. Does this make me a creep?”  

“Yes,” Artemis said flatly, “But I hear that spending too much time in Gotham can do that to a person. I have always said you are better off making a life for yourself elsewhere.”  

She had. Several times now. It was one of the many reasons why things didn’t pan out between them. Try as he might, Jason couldn’t quit Gotham, even when it turned its back on him.  

“You no be yourself,” Bizarro insisted, “No one likes real Jay.”  

Jason tugged his helmet on to hide the embarrassed flush that bled into the crown of his head. Yeah, he could live without the who be yourself spiel, especially from the man created to say the exact opposite of what he meant. Even if he knew what Bizarro really meant, it hurt to hear the very words that kept him awake at night spoke aloud.  

“Can we not? Let’s just focus on the job we were hired to do.”  

“Finally,” Artemis sighed, “Praise Ra. If I knew embarrassment was the way to get you focused, I would have done so sooner. You fluster quite easily.”  

He flipped her off.  

She moved on as if he hadn’t reacted at all. “We are close to our destination. I think we are ready now that the distractions have been laid to rest.”  

“I am confused,” Bizarro agreed with a shrug.  

The job was straightforward. Break into several facilities along the west coast, sabotage the product, and get out before they’re caught. As far as missions went, this one was standard. Or at least, it would have been if the client didn’t offer more than twice what they usually charged for a hit like this.  

Jason was wary, but not enough to turn down the job. “Should be simple. I’m not too worried.”  

***  

Famous last words.  

Jason slid across the floor, narrowly avoiding being flattened by flying debris. He gritted his teeth as he readjusted his grip on his guns and sent a well-aimed shot through the head of the sentient bot looming over him. The bullet ricocheted off the glass that guarded the delicate tech that lay beneath.  

Two more shots and that glass shattered. Sparks went flying, and the bot folded in on itself. He shoved himself off the ground. One down, at least a dozen more to go.  

The client failed to mention the tech they were sent to fuck with was sentient, but the payout suddenly made a lot more sense.  

Simple his ass.  

Bots swarmed Bizarro like flies to honey, but he held his own as he tore through them with his bare hands. Artemis cleaved two in half with a clean arc of her axe, scattering bits of steel and wire across the floor of the warehouse.  

“This is annoying,” she remarked with a huff.  

“Look on the bright side. We know what to expect from the other six facilities. Might even have time to grab some lunch before we hit the next one,” he said as he shot another robot between the proverbial eyes, “I hear Cali has great sushi.”  

“Bizarro hates sushi,” he grunted as he tossed twitching remains across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a resounding crack, fracturing the concrete.  

Jason grinned as another bot went down. It was oddly freeing, settling back into his routine with the Outlaws. Here, with them, there were no expectations beyond getting paid and trying not to die. He found solace amid his band of imperfect misfits. It was good to be back.  

He would return to Gotham.  

He always did.  

But for now, he was here, and he planned to make the most of his time with the misfits.  

“Jason, behind you!”  

He whipped around, a thermal beam striking him in the chest. He flew across the room, colliding with a line of shipping containers. He swore on a groan as he peeled himself off the ground. The blast left a smoldering hole in his coat. He shrugged it off and stomped out the cinders. He sifted through the inner pocket to ensure your letter was still intact.  

“Idiot!” Artemis lunged in front of him to deflect another blast aimed at his back. She pinned him with a withering glare. “Focus. Next time I will let them burn you to cinders.”  

He nodded tightly. “Understood.”  

The final robot hit the floor twenty minutes later. Sweat soaked the back of his suit, and he could feel the bruise on his spine, but he’d had far worse. He released the empty magazines and holstered his guns.  

“So, we still want sushi?”  

“Not me!” Bizarro said as he landed beside him. Jason clapped him on the back as the pair headed for the door. “Bizarro hates the Dynamite roll.”  

“You and me both, big guy.”  

“Jason, a word.”  

He flinched as he turned to face Artemis. She hung back by the shipping containers with a grave expression. That wasn’t a good sign.  

Bizarro removed his hand from his shoulder and ducked out before Jason could beg him to intervene. Traitor , he thought as he doubled back to join Artemis. Whatever she had to say, he knew it would be brutal.   

“Look, I know I was distracted today but—”  

“I do not regret breaking up with you.”  

He bit off the rest of his statement, nearly swallowing his tongue in the process. Artemis had never been a romantic. He knew this when they started dating. He hoped time would soften her heart. Time passed and she remained hard and unwavering. It was one of the many things he admired about her.   

When they broke up, it was clean. For her. It hurt Jason, probably more than he cared to admit, but he’d come to accept that they were better off as friends.  

It also helped that they also never talked about it.  

Until now.  

Jason wondered if it was too late to trigger another round of robots so he could avoid this conversation.  

“Thanks.”  

“I am not saying this to be mean,” she insisted as she tossed his jacket to him, “I say this because I know you yearn for a deeper connection, even when you feel you do not deserve it. If Odysseus could return to his Penelope after all the atrocities he committed on his journey and still be worthy of love, so can you.”  

Her words tugged at an old wound he thought he’d gotten over. For the most part, he had. Once upon a time, he would have killed for the kind of romantic allegory from her, but his bond with Artemis was born of shared trauma and bitter rejection. It worked for a while, but it wasn’t the sturdiest foundation to build their relationship.  

He hugged the jacket to his chest and mumbled, “No idea what you’re talking about?”  

Her laugh sounded more like a bark. “I am sorry I could not be the romantic partner you needed, but I think one exists, and they may be a lot closer than you think.”  

His shoulders curled. She assumed he had a crush on you, but that wasn’t the case. He just admired your mind. He liked how passionate you were, and how you didn’t hide those pieces of yourself. He saw himself in you. He wanted to see what those pieces became when given the chance to flourish.  

Sure, he muddied the lines the last time he saw you, but he refused to make the same mistake twice. Avoiding you was the smart thing to do for both of your sakes. No more poor decision wrapped in good intentions.  

“Is that all?”  

A muscle in her jaw tightened. “Yes.”  

Thank God . “Right. Let’s get out of here.”  

[juunebuggy]

I've been reading Dungeon Meshi and the cover for chapter 52 really stood out to me:

I think this cover so perfectly demonstrates the core themes that have been set up throughout the series thus far and also represents the characters really interestingly. Specifically the differences in their upbringings through the act of eating.

(Analysis under the cut ^_^)

First off, Laios and Falin are eating alone because they left home early in life and only have had eachother. They've had other party members but they've never enjoyed the toudens company like the two think they do, especially Laios. The two are alone because often times their party members don't actually care for them or see them as friends.

Marcille is eating in a cafeteria at her magic school, the composition is symmetrical to show the rigid lifestyle of the school and show how routine it is. It was a core time in marcilles life because she was happy and because it was structured. Often times, structure is the most comfortable thing someone can have, even if it is ultimately fleeting. School will end eventually and most of the connections you make are temporary but still effect us.

Chilchuck is eating with his family, showing the importance of his family to him. I really like this one in particular because even if his family is important to him, he'll always keep them at an arms length. His face is the only one shown, showing this about him. His face is also being cleaned by another person, showing the need for vulnerability and letting your gaurd down around people you care for, but also how Chilchuck is unwilling to do that.

Senshi is eating alone, he doesn't have a table either, showing how he lived in the dungeon for a long time and how he didn't have anyone to feed or care for even if it was something he deeply longed for. He's alone because he doesn't have anyone that could be there for him anymore, no family, no friends. I'm crying actually.

Finally, with Izutsumi she's eating with another person. Her table maners are poor, she can't hold chop sticks correctly and she's giving away the food she doesn't enjoy. We've seen this about her countless times but it's really amplified by this because it shows that she's always been like this, it's ingrained in her behaviour because no one either cared enough to try to teach her to be polite or never properly made an effort to. I'm sure Maizuru would try to fix her maners, but wouldn't do it in a thoughtful caring way that'd be actually helpful for izutsumi. She'd probably try to "whip her into shape" rather than treat her with compassion and patience.

All of these really accurately show how important connections are, how you need people. You need someone that will never treat you poorly, someone that will stick with you through thick and thin because they genuinely love you. You need the simplicity of routine, you need people that gravitate in and out of your life, those connections are important and often temporary but mean the most in the time you knew them. You need family, people you can let your gaurd down around and be truly happy with, even if it's hard to. You need people to care for, people you can feed and love in the simplest terms of helping them. And finally, you need people who teach you, people who will be there for you with kindness and treat you with compassion even when you are doing what they deem as bad.

I'm still not finished with this series but I genuinely love it so much so far. I'm barely halfway through and it's developed emotionally impactful and deeply honest themes and ideas that really strike a cord with me. It's so interesting and I can't wait to finish the series and better understand these characters ^_^

Thank you for reading all the way through!! Feel free to add your own bits of analysis or additional food for thought :33 (no spoilers tho please since I've still not finished the series)

[ddawn111]

A New (And Improved?) Weapon

ROTTMNT Donatello x Reader

I just love to think that Donnie would go all out when fixing or upgrading things for reader. Total showoff mode.

Also, I’ll admit I might have gotten carried away with the schematics a little, so the chapter is pretty long. I got excited.

The lair buzzed with its usual controlled chaos, but your mind was locked on the new weapon in your hands, a mystic staff you’d claimed after Donatello so graciously (stubbornly) declined it. The concept of wielding such a powerful artifact was exciting, but the reality? Far more complicated.

Surprisingly, the weird looking staff with a small scythe blade on one end and a mace on the other was a shapeshifting weapon. The staff never changes, but different weapons or weapon attachments can materialize off of the ends.

Every time you thought you had a handle on its abilities, it would surprise you with some new twist, like a blade materializing randomly or the entire thing transforming into a flail mid-spin.

You stood in the middle of the lair, staring at the mystic staff in your hands. The smooth, wooden surface pulsed faintly with energy, the ends glowing intermittently as if mocking your lack of control. No matter how much you tried, the thing just wouldn’t cooperate. It felt alive, almost sentient, and you weren’t sure if it wanted to help or hurt you.

“Great,” you muttered, tossing it onto the couch beside you. “I’m going to accidentally vaporize someone at this rate.”

The staff rolled slightly, stopping just before it fell to the floor, and you sighed. You needed help, but the only person who could actually make sense of it was currently holed up in his lab, probably creating something absurdly genius and unnecessarily complicated.

Donatello.

Just the thought of him made your heart do that annoying flutter thing you’d been trying to ignore for years. Ever since you’d met him, his quick wit and confidence had a way of getting under your skin in the best (and most infuriating) way. Not to mention his ridiculous ability to make the simplest things sound like a declaration of brilliance.

You glanced back at the staff, biting your lip. Taking this to Donnie meant subjecting yourself to his relentless sarcasm and that infuriatingly smug smile. But it also meant spending time with him - alone.

For a moment, you debated leaving it be, but the idea of another accidental self-inflicted injury won out. You grabbed the staff and made your way to the lab, rehearsing what you’d say to avoid sounding like a complete idiot.

Frustrated but determined, you made your way to Donnie’s lab.

Donnie’s lab was exactly how you expected it—organized chaos. Tools, gadgets, and half-finished inventions were strewn across the room, glowing softly under the overhead lights. At the center of it all was Donatello, hunched over his workbench, his back to you as he worked on something at his bench. Sparks flying as he welded something you couldn’t identify, the sound sharp but rhythmic. Naturally, he didn’t notice you.

You hesitated for a moment, leaning on the doorway and watching him work. He always looked so… focused. Determined. It was one of the things you admired most about him, even if you’d never admit it out loud.

“Don,” you called, stepping closer. He didn’t respond.

“Donnie.”

Nothing.

“DON. Hey! Donnie boy!” Still nothing.

You sighed and leaned against his desk chair, twirling the staff in your hands. “Donatello!” you tried again, drawing out the name for emphasis. Still nothing. You rolled your eyes, flopping down sideways onto his desk chair with all the grace of a cat on a lazy day. “DonTron!”

Finally, the welding stopped for a beat, but it wasn’t until you called, “Mr. Genius!” with feigned exasperation that he finally turned around.

“I hear someone acknowledging my proper title,” he said smoothly, a small grin tugging at his lips as he lifted his welding mask and rubbed his forehead, finally making eye contact.

You burst out laughing. “Really? That’s the one you respond to? I’ve been calling you for, like, five minutes.”

“But of course, sweet maiden,” he replied with a theatrical bow. “I only respond to the sweet, sweet truth.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You tried not to let your face heat up at the “sweet maiden” comment, instead crossing your arms with a smirk. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously accurate.”

“Sure, sure.” You straightened and held up the staff. “Anyway, I have a formal request.”

“With what, exactly?” he asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms in a way that made him look far too confident.

You resisted the urge to look away and held out the staff. “This thing’s… complicated. I still don’t know what half of it does, and I’d rather not find out the hard way, sooo... Think you can analyze it and share your genius knowledge?”

Donnie’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, so now you’re coming to me for help? And here I thought you were Miss Independent.”

“Don’t push it, DonTron,” you shot back, though the nickname made him grin even wider.

You batted your eyes at him for extra effect, and Donnie sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. He took the staff from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. You pretended not to notice the way your stomach flipped at the contact. “Well, since it’s a formal request,” he said, examining the weapon with a critical eye. “I suppose I can spare a moment. For you.”

“Thanks, Don-tron. You’re the best.”

“Obviously,” he said, taking the staff and walking off with it, already muttering calculations under his breath.

You lingered for a moment before leaving, wondering why it was so easy for him to fluster you without even trying.

When you returned to the lab a few days later, it was with equal parts excitement and dread. The lair buzzed as usual, but your mind was elsewhere; on the mystic staff you’d claimed and the guy who was currently tweaking it. It had taken every ounce of courage you had to hand it over to Donatello without fumbling over your words.

You’d been thinking about Donnie’s upgrades ever since you handed over the staff, but mostly, you’d been thinking about him. Every smirk, every comment, every fleeting moment spent in his orbit replayed in your mind with maddening clarity.

You’d been crushing on him for… well, longer than you cared to admit. Of course, it didn’t help that he was infuriatingly brilliant and confident in ways that left you simultaneously exasperated and weak in the knees. Still, you weren’t about to let that show. Not to him, anyway.

And now, here you were again, standing at the entrance to his lab with your heart doing somersaults.

Donnie turned as you approached, holding the staff in one hand like it was a trophy. He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Ah, my esteemed client returns,” he said, his grin widening as you stepped closer. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Already prepared,” you quipped, crossing your arms to keep from fidgeting. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Genius.”

“Behold! your newly enhanced mystic weapon,” He handed you the staff with a flourish, and you immediately noticed it felt lighter and sleeker…and…metal? The surface was smooth and silver, with faint etchings that glowed when you touched it. It hummed softly in your hands, almost as if it were waiting for your command.

“Uh, Don, this looks… different.”

“Different?” he repeated, mock offense lacing his tone. “Try better. I’ve optimized it in every way imaginable. Allow me to demonstrate,” Donnie said straightening up.

“What exactly did you do to it?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever he looked at you like that, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Behold!” Donnie gestured dramatically as he launched into a rapid-fire explanation. “The staff now splits down the middle for dual-wielding combat. Blades can eject from the ends for melee attacks in case the mystic properties fail you—which, let’s be honest, they might.

And this!” He reached over, pressing a subtle button near the middle of the staff. With a soft whir, the entire weapon collapsed down to the size of a drumstick. “Collapsible design for maximum portability. You’re welcome.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Okay, that’s… actually pretty awesome.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Donnie said, clearly relishing the moment. He pressed the button again, and the staff extended back to full length with a satisfying snap. “The exterior is reinforced with an alloy of my own design, making it nearly indestructible, and the mystic energy is now perfectly stabilized, so no more misfiring while you wield it. But wait - there’s more!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he tapped another button near the base of the staff. Instantly, small engines popped out of the back end, sleek and perfectly integrated into the design.

“Boom! Jet engines”

“Wait, jet engines? Are you serious? They’re so tiny,” you gawked, twirling the staff experimentally. It felt perfectly balanced, the mystic energy now harmonizing with Donnie’s tech.

“Silent jet engines, and yeah I’m awesome, I know,” he corrected, his grin widening, gesturing like a game show host revealing a prize. “They allow for broom-style flight. The controls are balance based, the speed and steering are controlled by your movement, so it’ll take some getting used to.”

“Wait, so you’re saying I can fly with this?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“Precisely,” he said, nodding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I noticed you struggle with keeping pace during missions, so this should level the playing field.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me,” you said dryly, though your heart warmed at the thoughtfulness behind the upgrade.

Donnie chuckled, but there was something softer in his gaze when he replied. “I just wanted to make sure you could keep pace with us,” he said, his voice quieter but no less confident. “Can’t have you falling behind.”

You stared at him, equal parts impressed and suspicious. “And you’re sure this is still mystic? It kind of feels like you rebuilt the whole thing from scratch.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Never question the tech man. Just enjoy the masterpiece.”

Shaking your head, you gave the staff another experimental twirl. It felt incredible in your hands, sleek, powerful, and undeniably you. The mystic energy now perfectly synchronized with Donnie’s tech. You had to admit - it was pretty awesome. “Fine, I’ll bite. What else did you add?”

Donnie smirked, tapping a finger to your temple. “That, my dear, is for you to discover.”

You tilted the staff in your hands with a smile, testing its weight. It felt perfect, like it was made just for you. “This is amazing, Don. Really. You outdid yourself,” you said in a soft voice.

“Obviously,” he quipped, though there was a faint blush creeping up his neck. He turned away quickly, pretending to fiddle with his tools.

You smiled to yourself, watching as he worked. For all his bravado, there was something undeniably endearing about moments like this, when his confidence wavered just enough to show the person underneath.

“Well,” you said, leaning the staff against your shoulder, “I guess this means I owe you one.”

Donnie glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you owe me several.”

Before leaving, you couldn’t resist poking around his gadget cabinet, no visit to Donnie’s lab would be complete without poking through his latest inventions. Your eyes landed on a long, sleek metal earring that stretches up from the earlobe and hooks over the helix, the design too intriguing to pass up, and you couldn’t resist trying it on.

“What’s this do?” you asked, holding it up.

Donnie looked up from his work, a frown already forming. “That’s not finished yet.”

You grinned, fixing it onto your ear. “Which means it’s fair game.”

Feeling at the metal, the moment you swiped your finger upwards from the bottom of the earring to the top, pink holographic glasses materialized over your eyes, showing holographic statistics of everything around you. “Whoa.” You waved a hand in front of your face, and the display followed your movements, like an augmented reality interface. “This is so cool.”

“Careful!��� Donnie rushed over, his hand brushing yours as he adjusted the earring. “That’s still in beta.” You tilt your head to give him access to your ear and smile.

The brief contact sent a jolt through you, and for a second, neither of you moved. Then Donnie cleared his throat and stepped back, his expression unreadable.

“It’s mine now,” you teased, feeling around until you realized swiping your finger up or down the earring adjusted the transparency of the holograms clouding your vision, which, in tandem, adjusted the transparency of the glasses so your eyes were more visible as you dimmed the holograms. “I’ll take my chances. Don’t worry, I’m just ganna borrow it… indefinitely.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if it malfunctions, don’t blame me.”

You also snagged a pair of fingerless gloves that, when activated, transformed into sleek gauntlets. They felt light but sturdy, and you could already imagine how useful they’d be in a fight.

“Those too?” Donnie asked, trying to look irritated, but smiling watching as you flexed your fingers in the gloves.

“Hey, if you didn’t want me to take them, you shouldn’t leave them lying around,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Of course, you’d find out later that all your gadgets included Donnie’s hardware, giving him way too much control when he wanted to mess with you. (Cue the time he reversed your gauntlets mid-battle just to prove a point.)

You twirled your newly enhanced staff and glanced over at Donnie, who was already engrossed in another project. “Thanks, DonTron. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said without looking up, then added with a smirk, “Seriously, don’t mention it. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Mr. Genius.”

As you left the lab, staff in hand, gloves fitted to your hands, and earring firmly in place, you couldn’t help but replay the interaction in your mind. The way he’d smiled, the way his voice softened when he talked about making sure you could keep up, it all felt… different.

Maybe he cared more than he let on. Or maybe you were just imagining things. Either way, you weren’t about to let this crush win. Not yet, anyway.

But as you glanced back, you caught Donnie watching you leave, his expression softening for just a moment before he turned back to his work.

As you filtered out of the lab Donnie chuckled to himself thinking of how you didn’t realize your “stolen tech” was a perfect fit.

Thanks for reading! I'm so happy to finally post my first fic. Sorry for any typos.

I was thinking about expanding on this with a oneshot series, let me know your thoughts.

Feel free to request.

Page divider credit: bunnysrph

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I LEAVE YOU

Synopsis: “Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.” (Also know as Inumaki Toge Tries To Tell You He Loves You, But It All Goes Terribly Wrong)

JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Inumaki x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: crack fic, secondhand embarrassment, miscommunication, mentions of sex toys/fetishes (non-explicit), megumi deserves damage pay, probably not lore-compliant, not at all to be taken seriously, characters are probably ooc tbh

A/N: i posted this literally two years ago on ao3 and it just occurred to me to put it on here LMAOAO anyways i obv wrote this a long time ago and it’s the most unserious ridiculous thing ever so please don’t judge me based on this fluffy goofy silly cracky nonsense i promise I’m better now!!

divider credits: @/benkeibear

The first emotion that spiked through you when you heard that the second years were back from their mission was relief. None of them were dead; anything else, you could deal with.

You had rushed to the infirmary, ignoring Nobara’s snickers. She alone knew who you was sprinting to see — your feelings for a certainupperclassman were highly secret, of course, but somehow she had found out, and of course she had, because she was Kugisaki Nobara, and nothing could really be kept secret from her for very long.

She had been urging you to do something, to make a move, citing that it “wasn’t like he had a lot of girls interested in him, anyways,” but you had always been too shy. You weren’t sure that you could handle a rejection, and it was hard to tell whether he was interested in you or just polite.

But your fear did not stop you from skidding to a stop in front of Shoko, giving her a wide-eyed stare, patiently waiting for her to tell you what was wrong with your friends.

“Did you need something?” she said. Obviously, her cursed technique had nothing to do with reading minds, but you still scowled at her for not knowing what you were thinking.

“The second years. Are��are they alright?” you said. She frowned, and this was your first clue that there was something less than alright going on with the trio.

“Well, they’re not permanently hurt, no,” she said. You sighed in relief — this was more than you could’ve hoped for. The curse that they had been sent to fight was obviously a strong one, and more than that, it was wily, with a rumored arsenal of techniques far beyond what you could even comprehend.

“That’s good,” you said.

“It is. They’ll all make a full recovery; Maki and Panda were barely impacted, anyways,” she said. Your blood ran cold at the name she didn’t mention.

“And Inumaki?” you said. If something had happened to him…you weren’t sure what you’d do. Probably cry. A lot.

“He’s fine, just a bit shocked. See, the curse managed to take his cursed energy from him, so until that’s been replenished, he’s just a normal person,” she said.

“Huh?” you said. “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” she said, ushering you into the infirmary, “I know that’s why you’re really here.”

Maki and Panda were nowhere to be found, and Shoko groaned, muttering about irresponsible children and telling you she’d be back with her patients in tow once more. This left you alone in the room with Inumaki Toge — at once your biggest dream and greatest fear.

You did not speak for the first few moments, far too nervous to open your mouth. He was buried in a mountain of pillows and blankets, soft blond hair falling in his violet eyes as he flipped through the pages of a book. His zipped up collar was nowhere to be seen; he only wore a plain white t-shirt, leaving his snake-fang seals visible. You had always thought they were pretty, so then your nerves were overtaken by infatuation with the elegant markings. The end result was the same: when Inumaki looked up, it was to you awkwardly standing in the room and watching him read.

“Hello,” he said. This made you pause and think.

“Hi?” you said.

“How are you doing?” he said. Now you really were confused.

“Not that I’m complaining, but can’t you…not speak?” you said. He set his book on his nightstand and sat up with a heavy sigh.

“Normally, I can’t. But as of right now, I can. That’s the effect of that curse we fought. I have the most cursed energy out of the three of us second years, so it drained mine, which means I’m unable to use my technique until my energy’s built up again. Shoko estimates it’ll be about a week,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. So Inumaki had one week of talking normally before he would be back to his usual limited speech. You wondered what he would think to say.

You had met Inumaki on your first day at Jujutsu Tech. He had helped you find your dorm room and then, via text, warned you about Gojo’s antics. Your crush had been born the very same day. He was so beautiful and kind that it was almost a no-brainer, really; though he could only speak in rice ball components, you didn’t even care. You found solace in swooning at him from afar, and every conversation you had ever had with him since then was filed away in a special corner of your mind, played on repeat whenever you were bored.

Nobara thought you were crazy when she found out, asking you if you had an ingredients fetish and then teasing you for a solid day by moaning tuna in your ear whenever she saw you. She only stopped because you started crying and begged Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs to chase her away if she got too close. The dogs were friendly enough and obliged, though you had had to buy Fushiguro several bags of candy for his troubles.

You could hear her voice in your ear right now as you stared at Inumaki, though it was thankfully not her moaning ingredients but rather her insisting that you say something. It was so easy; now, at least, he could reject you properly, with words instead of helpless frustration and a long-winded text about how you were nice, really, but he just thought of you as an annoying friend who didn’t leave him alone, and anyways, why would he ever like you?

“Can I tell you something?” he said before you could ask to do the same. Privately, you were relieved at this, for it meant you could procrastinate your confession a little further.

“What’s up?” you said, a small, childish hope arising in you that maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe he’d confess first, and then things would be very simple indeed. You allowed yourself to feel excitement building at this prospect.

“I…oh, man, how do I do this?” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a flush rising over his pale cheeks. “Ah, shit, I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could speak and having so many things to say but not the words to say them, and now that I finally can talk, I just don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s alright. You can take your time, I don’t mind,” you said politely. And you didn’t mind — whatever he had to say, you would wait around for years if you needed to in order to hear it. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll just come out with it, then!” he said, nodding determinedly before locking eyes with you, “I leave you.”

It suddenly felt like you were underwater, ears ringing. Your throat choked, and pathetic, childish tears blurred your vision. He was leaving. Inumaki, for whatever reason, was leaving. And not only was he leaving, he was leaving you in specific.

“R-really?” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it was awfully unconvincing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” He seemed embarrassed, now, averting his eyes, “No, why would you think that?”

“Well, you just said…” you trailed off helplessly.

“Oh. I thought you would be happy,” he said, his voice quiet, small, ashamed. He looked almost brokenhearted, though why he would be feeling hurt about this development, you could not be sure. He was the one making the choice to leave; you were the one fated to stay behind.

“Why would I be happy about that?” you said. He was dejected when he spoke next.

“Never mind. I don’t…I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said.

“I’ll still support you,” you said, steeling yourself to flash him a watery smile, “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Yes! Yes, please, please, I know I messed up by telling you this, but I don’t want us to stop being friends,” he said.

“I’m glad you told me, though. I’d rather not be left in the dark. Have you told anyone else yet?” you said.

“No, though I’m sure Panda suspects it,” he said before shifting uncomfortably to pull his blankets up and hide his face, “Can you, um, go? I want some time alone.”

“Right,” you said, “I’m glad you’re not hurt permanently.”

As you left, you thought you heard sniffles coming from the lump under the blanket, but if he really was crying, he gave you no other indication of it. You thought of lingering, of comforting him and asking him to comfort you, demanding he tell you the reason for his departure, but it was not your place. So, biting the inside of your cheek to hold your tears back, you marched towards Nobara’s dorm.

“He told you he’s leaving you?” she said, ten minutes later once you had explained to her the entire story. “How odd. And he hasn’t told anyone he’s transferring yet? Not even Gojo or Principal Yaga?”

“No,” you said, finding solace in her warm embrace, the scent of roses that wafted off of her skin, “I just don’t understand why he’s going.”

“It’s so strange. I mean, I really thought he liked you! Although, maybe he does. Think about it, you’re the first person he’s told, so clearly he trusts you a lot!” she said.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you said, “Regardless as to his reasons, it remains that he’s leaving me. At least he said we can still be friends, though.”

“Wait!” she said, and there was a conniving smirk on her face that spelled trouble, “I have an idea. Let’s throw a surprise going-away-party for him! Even if you don’t confess, at least it’ll show you care about him. And maybe we’ll be able to figure out why he’s leaving and where he’s going, too.”

“We have to do it before the end of the week, then, that’s when Shoko estimates his cursed energy will be back to normal and he won’t be able to talk anymore,” you said.

“I doubt you’d be complaining about that, Miss Ingredients Fetish,” Nobara said.

“I don’t have a fetish for ingredients!” you said, wriggling out of her hug and glaring at her.

“Oh, really? So you won’t get all hot and bothered if I say ‘salmon,’ right?” she said.

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Nobara, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” you said.

“Salmon,” she said, panting dramatically and clutching her chest. You threw a pillow at her, knocking her off of the bed in a fit of laughter.

“You suck,” you said.

“You swallow,” she shot back.

“Ugh! You’re hopeless!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“I’ll text the group chat to make plans for the party!” she said. You gave her the finger and stomped out of her room to go sit in your own and mope about the fact that Inumaki was leaving.

Really, this was probably a good thing. After all, with him gone, you didn’t have to worry about him accidentally finding out about your crush. And maybe you’d even be able to move on, though you had no idea who at this school would measure up to Inumaki.

Nobara’s plan was sound, though. A going away party would be perfect to wish him one final farewell �� provided, of course, that you were able to keep it a secret from the boy. This was easier said than done, but you were determined. You would make Inumaki’s party an occasion to remember, but this meant you had to call in some help.

The first thing you did the next day was video call Okkotsu, who was currently in Africa, training with a sorcerer named Miguel. You had to track down Maki and beg her for his number; she had been very confused but had given it to you anyways.

This left you staring at your phone screen, praying he would pick up. Inumaki and Okkotsu were best friends, so it would be wrong to not tell the black-haired sorcerer about your plans. He also might have some insight as to where Inumaki was going and why he was leaving.

“Hello?” Thankfully, Okkotsu picked up, looking extraordinarily confused. There were dark circles under his eyes and a katana strapped to his back. Despite the fact that he looked battle ready, he was just sitting on a couch and shoving chips in his mouth. “Who is this?”

“Okkotsu, sir! This is Y/N, I’m one of the first years at Jujutsu Tech,” you said.

“Okay. Don’t call me sir, it’s weird and I’m only a year older than you. Is there a reason you’re calling me?” he said.

“Yes, there is. See, Inumaki —” you began before he cut you off.

“Ohhh, you’re that Y/N! Yeah, yeah, I completely approve,” he said.

“Did Nobara already tell you?” you said.

“No, Inumaki’s been telling me about this for months now! Who’s Nobara?” he said.

“Months? But we didn’t even start planning until yesterday,” you said.

“He’s been dreaming of this day since the beginning of the year, even video called me and everything! I don’t think I’ve heard him say ‘salmon’ as many times in a row ever before or since,” he said. Unbidden, you remembered Nobara’s actions from yesterday and shivered before shaking your head to clear such thoughts from your mind.

“Do you know why he…you know?” you said. If Inumaki really had been planning on leaving for so long, then certainly Okkotsu would know why. The boy hummed and nodded.

“Yeah, for sure! But it’s a little weird if I say it, you know? Against the bro code or whatever, and it’d feel a bit too much like I was trying to slide in, which I’m not! Just ask him, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to tell you. God, he must be so happy right now! I wish I could be there to see it,” he said.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. I’m throwing a surprise party in honor of the occasion, and I was wondering if you’d be able to come, or at least video call in,” you said. Each word Okkotsu uttered was like a stab in the heart, further reinforcing the fact that Inumaki really, really, really didn’t like you. Why else did he make plans to leave the literal day he had met you? You only wished he would’ve gone sooner so that your feelings did not build up and compound from a simple admiration into something greater, something beautiful and untouchable yet twisted and cruel.

“Sounds like a great time! Just video call me, I’ll be sure to pick up. And I’ll try to send something along as a gift, too! Damn, I know it’s not my news to be excited for, but it feels as though my heart’s going to burst!” he said, popping a final chip into his mouth before hanging up. You stared at the phone’s black screen for a second, marvelling at how this short conversation had made you feel even worse about the status of your relationship with Inumaki.

Before, you had believed that the two of you were friends, at least. You both had gotten along well enough — you would train together and slip each other notes with book recommendations. He had told you his favorite restaurant and described exactly the meal you should order, and you had introduced him to your favorite television series. Yet with the latest revelations that your discussion with Okkotsu had brought about, it was clear that all of this was Inumaki doing the bare minimum to tolerate you until the day he could leave.

Maybe he was glad that he could speak, if only for a short time. It allowed him to tell you in no uncertain terms that he was going away. If only he had elaborated back then! If only he had said that he felt such a way about you from the very start instead of leading you on with candy-sweet platitudes and feigned affection.

With Okkotsu’s presence now confirmed (and a gift apparently on the way), you moved on to the next thing you had to do in order to prepare for the party: recruit the other second years.

You decided to start with Maki. Though she was seemingly brusque, she was also a caring girl, and you knew she’d be thrilled to help throw a farewell party for one of her closest friends, even if she had not known he was leaving until just now.

As expected, she was properly enraged upon hearing the news.

“He’s leaving? Leaving where, exactly? The only place he’ll be going is hell, because I’m about to punch him so hard that that’s where he’ll end up!” she said, balling her fists, a vein popping in her forehead.

“Woah, hey, Maki! I don’t know where he’s going, but please don’t confront him. I don’t think he wants people knowing, and I want the party to be a surprise. He might get suspicious if he realizes that you know,” you said.

“Stupid idiot, won’t even tell his own classmates that he’s going,” she muttered, “I’ll keep your secret. But I will be committing violence at the party.”

“Please don’t!” you said, distressed at the thought, “I want him to have a fun final memory of Jujutsu Tech.”

Her eyes softened when she looked at you, and she nodded begrudgingly. “Alright. Your secret, and your party, are safe with me. I won’t tell a soul! Although, you know…a surprise farewell party would be a great place to confess your feelings.”

“How — how do you know about my feelings?” you said.

“Firstly, you’re not exactly subtle, the others are just really oblivious. Secondly, Nobara mayyyy have let something slip,” she said.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said.

“Don’t,” she said.

“No, I’m seriously considering it,” you said.

“If you do, I’ll ruin Inumaki’s party,” she threatened.

“Fine!” you whined like a child, “I’m going to go talk to Panda.”

The large bear was asleep in the sun when you reached him. You nudged him with your foot in an attempt to get him to wake up; thankfully, he did, blinking his beetle-dark eyes open sleepily and sitting up when he saw you.

“Panda, I need your help,” you said seriously once you were sure that you had his undivided attention.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Inumaki’s leaving, so I’m throwing him a party,” you said. Panda furrowed his brow, clearly trying to process this development.

“He is?” he finally said. You nodded, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, he literally told me as much! He was all like ‘I leave you,’ and it was kind of upsetting, actually,” you said.

“How interesting,” he said finally, and now there was mischief in his expression, “And you need my help with hosting a party?”

“I don’t know how much of a party it’ll be, exactly, I mean it’ll only be the first and second years, but yes, basically,” you said. He chuckled, rubbing his paws together menacingly.

“Excellent. Yes, I’d love to help! And it’s a surprise, right?” he said.

“Yes?” you said. He looked almost evil at this point, baring his teeth in his version of a smirk.

“Even better.”

With the second years thusly recruited and the first years taken care of by Nobara (you wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had over Fushiguro to convince him to join in on the festivities, but judging by the sour expression on his face when he RSVP'd to you, it had to be something), the guest list was complete. Panda assured you he’d get Inumaki to come without being obvious, and you were happy to entrust the task to him.

This left you to go shopping for party supplies, using Gojo’s credit card (Fushiguro had told you where it was hidden). You had convinced Nobara to stay behind, claiming that she needed to hold down the fort in your absence and get started on cleaning the room you’d use for the party. That was a lie, of course — you actually just didn’t want to take her shopping with you. If she came, you wouldn’t be back before midnight, and the party was supposed to be tonight.

“Where are you going?” Inumaki said. You almost screamed at the sound of his voice; you hadn’t expected him to just manifest out of nowhere, and especially not when you were trying to sneak out of the school in order to buy things for his surprise party.

“Shopping!” you said.

“Can I come? I feel like things were kinda left off weirdly last time we spoke, and I hoped we could try to fix them,” he said. You were unused to hearing him speak so many words at once, and you were mesmerised for a second before you mentally slapped yourself out of it.

“No! You cannot come. Sorry,” you said, feeling bad. You wanted nothing more than to talk with Inumaki, to talk and talk until your throat went dry and your words ran out, but if he saw what you were shopping for, then he’d catch on to the plan.

“Oh. Is it because I told you — ?”

“Absolutely not!” you yelped, cutting him off, not wanting him to get any ideas, “I’m shopping for personal things. Like tampons.”

“I don’t really mind that,” he said shyly, “I don’t think tampons are gross. I mean, they’re only plastic and cotton. I just really want to talk with you.”

“Sex toys!” you said.

“Um, what?” he said, taken aback. Your face was hot with embarrassment, but you needed him to understand that he was not allowed to come shopping with you. So you locked eyes with him and tried to repeat yourself.

“I am going shopping for, uh, you know…I mean, you heard me!” you said.

“Right!” he said, and he was so completely red you almost called him Clifford, “I’ll leave you to it, then! I guess we can talk later.”

You gave him a fake smile and a thumbs up, staying frozen in place until he had disappeared from sight. Then, with a wail, you called Nobara.

“I fucking told him I was shopping for sex toys!” you said, not even waiting for her to greet you like usual. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before someone cleared their throat.

“This is Fushiguro,” he said. You promptly hung up and cursed your luck. You should’ve sent Nobara to do the shopping. You really, reallyshould’ve sent Nobara.

That evening, as the sun set over the horizon and Panda distracted Inumaki, the rest of you decorated the room that Nobara and Yuji had cleared earlier in the day. Maki and Nobara were too busy whispering amongst each other to actually help, though, and you were hiding in the corner, too terrified of his reaction to even glance in Fushiguro’s direction. For his part, he did an excellent job of ignoring you, leaving him and Yuji to do the majority of the setting up.

When anxiety made it difficult to breathe, you began to fiddle with the projector, where Okkotsu’s face would be shown once he called in to the party. The green light was blinking, which meant that it was ready to go and was only waiting for you to connect your phone to it.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nobara soothed you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I think he’ll be thankful you planned something like this at all.”

“And I still think you should confess your feelings,” Maki said, adding her unwanted opinion, “Seriously! If he rejects you then it doesn’t matter, because he’ll just be leaving soon anyways. I think you should consider it.”

“She’s right,” Nobara said, “Here, maybe this’ll motivate you.”

She leaned in until her lips were barely brushing against the shell of your ear, cool breath tickling against your neck.

“What are you doing?” you said, unamused. She pitched her voice lower before speaking.

“Bonito flakes.”

“You little — stop doing that! I do not have an ingredients fetish!” you shouted, hitting her shoulder repeatedly. She burst into raucous laughter, tears of mirth gathering along her lash line.

“I’m going to have to request you to please stop talking about your intimate life in front of me, please,” Fushiguro said uncomfortably, “I already know far more than I ever wanted to.”

“Fushiguro, it wasn’t like that, I was shopping for party supplies! I only said the other thing to throw Inumaki off the trail,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, obviously not believing you but allowing you to pretend, “Whatever you say.”

“Shh! Panda and Inumaki are on their way!” Yuji said, interrupting the conversation by hushing all of you obnoxiously, “Everyone, positions!”

You all ducked behind various pieces of furniture, and one of Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before it melted into the shadows once more.

A second later, the door creaked open, revealing Inumaki and Panda’s silhouettes standing in the frame. From beside you, Nobara began to giggle, and you pinched her in an effort to get her to shut up. It worked, although it did have the unfortunate consequence of her pinching you back.

“What’s going on here?” Inumaki said, turning the lights on. As soon as he did, you all (with the exception of Fushiguro, of course) leapt out at him. He fell backwards in surprise, staring up at you through thick lashes.

“Surprise!” Yuji said.

“It’s not my birthday?” Inumaki said.

“Do you see a cake anywhere?” Nobara said, “This isn’t a birthday party, it’s a farewell party!”

“A farewell party? But who are we saying farewell to?” Inumaki said in confusion.

“You. Did you think we wouldn’t care about your departure? You idiot, we’re going to miss you so much!” Maki said, sniffing and wiping away a tear.

“Let’s all go around and share our favorite memories with Inumaki,” Yuji said. Inumaki seemed dumbfounded, so Nobara took the initiative to respond.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll go first — I really enjoyed the one time he let me paint his nails,” she said.

“I don’t have any good memories,” Fushiguro deadpanned, “But if I had to pick a tolerable one, it would be when I convinced him to use his Cursed Speech on Nanami.”

“I remember that!” Maki said, howling in laughter, “And I can’t pick a favorite memory. We just have too many good ones.”

“Same!” Yuji said, and he was bawling now for some reason, “You’re just so cool, Inumaki! I’m so sad that you’re going!”

“Y/N, what about you?” Maki said.

“Confess! Confess! Confess!” Nobara chanted, not even trying to be subtle about it anymore.

“Be quiet!” you said.

“Do it or I’ll do it for you!” she said. You looked around at the audience; they all seemed interested, even Fushiguro. Though you wanted to talk to Inumaki in a bit more of a private setting, Nobara and Maki were right in that this was the perfect time to say something. So, taking a deep breath, you faced the boy.

“Inumaki,” you said, “I know that I’ve been acting weird recently, ever since you told me you’ll be going, but that’s because I don’t want you to. See, the truth is that I love you. I think I have for a while now, and I’m going to miss you, and I don’t want you to go, so please don’t. Please stay.”

He blinked. “Huh? What do you mean? I never said I was going anywhere.”

“Yes you did!” you said, pointing at him accusingly, “I remember it! That day in the infirmary!”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere, I said I leave you!” he said.

“That’s the same thing!” you said indignantly, “You’re getting upset about semantics when I just confessed that I love you, idiot! Doesn’t that even mean anything to you?”

“No? I’ve never heard of that word before!” he said.

“Love? You’ve never heard of love before?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“L-O-V-E. Love. That rings no bells?” you said. His face suddenly went snow-white.

“L-O-V-E is pronounced…love?” he said.

“How the hell else would it be pronounced?” you snapped, feeling far too bewildered and irritated to soften your words. How could he have treated your feelings so flippantly? How did he just not understand love?

Inumaki suddenly found the floor incredibly fascinating. “...leave.”

“What?” You said.

“What?” he said innocently.

“OH MY GOD!” Nobara squealed, catching on far quicker than you, “You both are idiots!” Finally, you began to understand, and then you were inclined to agree with her.

“So you’re not going anywhere?” you checked.

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“He hasn’t been able to speak for practically his entire life,” Panda said, shoulders shaking with laughter, “Can you blame him if he mispronounces a couple of words now and then? It’s not like anybody’s ever corrected him before.”

Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.

“You’re not leaving,” you said again, drawing closer to him, “You’re not leaving me.”

“I won’t ever leave you if you don’t want me to,” he said, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug.

“Don’t,” you said, “Please don’t.”

“I love you. That’s what I meant to say all along,” he said.

“I guess I threw this whole party for nothing, then,” you said, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Is this what you were shopping for earlier? Not…the other things?” he said.

“Yeah. It was just a surprise, so I didn’t want you coming along,” you said, feeling bashful at how entirely silly the entire affair had ended up being. He let out a warm, gentle laugh that caused his chest to vibrate against your cheek.

“It’ll be hard, you know. Once this week is over, I’ll be back to only speaking in rice ball ingredients,” he warned.

“That’s probably for the best. Less room for misinterpretation,” you said.

“Plus, she has an ingredients fetish!” Nobara chimed in. You withdrew from the safety of Inumaki’s shirt to scowl at her.

“Enough with the ingredients fetish!”

A knock at the door interrupted the tense showdown; Panda opened it to reveal a delivery man, who was holding a package and fidgeting, probably out of fear, considering he was face to face with a giant, sentient panda.

“I have a package from an Okkotsu Yuta, addressed here?” he said. You slapped your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot about him! Thank you,” you said, accepting the box and then quickly calling Okkotsu.

“Hey, guys!” he said cheerily. His phone must have been set up against the wall of a building or something, because it showed him busy using his katana to exorcise curses and not even breaking a sweat, “Sorry, this isn’t a great time, but congratulations on getting together! I hope you like your present — hey! Stay away from the iPhone!” The screen abruptly went dark as a curse swiped at Okkotsu’s cell phone, knocking it down while the sorcerer snarled.

“Open the present!” Yuji said excitedly.

Inside of the box were two bright pink t-shirts. Both of them had white lettering on them — one said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Best Friend Foreverand the other said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Girlfriend-in-Law.

You all stared at them, expressions varying from amusement to delight to horror. You didn’t even question how Okkotsu had known that you and Inumaki would confess to each other. Clearly, he already thought you both were together, so it was really just divine timing in that sense.

Somewhere in Africa, Okkotsu finished exorcising the curses and sheathed his katana, casting aside his jacket to reveal a bright pink shirt that said on it in white lettering, I’m Okkotsu Yuta.

“Maybe they’ll let me third wheel,” he mused to himself, “I mean, they had better, considering how hard these shirts were to find at the thrift store.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 25/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR

CHAPTER TWENTYFIVE

                “Customer service is important, but the customer can be a difficult person.”

                “The customer is always right, right?”

                “No. Sometimes they are very wrong. And rude. However you need to temper your own reactions. Sometimes they are assholes, but sometimes they are just having a bad day. Something small may be the last thing that just tips them over, and sometimes you will wear the brunt of that. And sometimes you will be the one experiencing that one little thing that sets you off…”

                “Is this about me losing my temper yesterday?”

                “Maybe,” Leandro pauses, reaches out and pulls Bradley into a hug. “I think I am sometimes too hard on you. We can make our food perfect, but we cannot be perfect ourselves. And expecting others to be perfect will always leave you disappointed.”

                “But what about when they fuck things up?”

                “Do you think they do it with malice in their hearts? On purpose to annoy you or make you look bad?”

                “No…”

                “Then give them a little grace. A little. We can make mistakes. We are human. When it happens over and over, well, then you can maybe find a better solution hmm?”

                “Yeah. Okay.”

…            …            …

                “So I asked him to order thirty bags, and instead he ordered thirty pounds.”

                “What are you going to do with thirty pounds of spinach?” Jake doesn’t know what he’d do with any spinach, isn’t sure he even eats or likes spinach. If he eats it, it’s probably hidden in other things if his sisters are cooking. Leo can also probably make it taste good.

                “Well, I'm making a green risotto, and also making a spinach and ricotta filling... Just, it’s just over twice as much spinach what we usually get delivered. It just kept fucking coming…”

                “This is kind of funny.”

                “Fucking annoying and potentially wasteful, if I hadn't caught it in time.”

                “Noone died. You need to lighten up a little. Can you return it?”

                “Uh…”

                “You didn’t even think about ringing and asking did you?”

                “Fuck.”

                “Oh babe, simplest solution…” Jake says, and he knows the others are making kissy-faces at him, because privacy is hard to come by on a carrier, but he can’t find it anywhere in him to care. So what, he’s soft for his boyfriend. He’s still the best in the air where it matters most to them, and Leo deserves the best, and if he likes Jake being soft then he’ll be the damned softest.

…            …            …

                Bradley feels like a cold hand is digging fingers tight into his heart, long after he and Jake have ended their short call.

                Noone died.

                Jake’s words, said in a joking manner. And no one will die in his kitchen, barring freak explosions. But Jake... Jake's job is far more dangerous. He closes his eyes and forces himself to not borrow trouble. Not over something he has zero control over. There are plenty of people he could ring and talk to, of course there are, about the hazards of being a naval aviator. He knows better than most just how dangerous the job can be. None of the people he could talk to care for Jake like he does, but there are some… He picks up his phone again and presses call.

                “Hello?”

                “Hey Maria…”

                “Bradley. Hi. This is… uh. Unexpected.”

                “Yeah. Sorry. Just uh, nothing’s wrong, I just… wanted to talk to someone else who was maybe worried about him as well.”

                “Oh… shit. Yeah. Your first deployment huh? I wish I could say it gets easier but it sucks and we all hate it. And he’s been out of the nest since he finished high school, so it’s not like we’re used to him being around but…”

                “You really miss his presence when it’s not there huh?”

                “You got it. He’s a pretty big personality when he wants to be.”

                “Yeah.”

                “So… Is it the distance or the danger?”

                “The danger. Uh. I was just wondering how you cope. When he's away doing his pilot shit?”

                “Well, we've been assured he's damn good at that pilot shit you so eloquently called it. He loves flying. What I try and take comfort in, is that the US Navy has spent a lot of money and time training him. And all the naval aviators. It's in their best interests to keep them as safe as possible while they do their jobs... Do you know much about the Navy?”

                Bradley laughs humorlessly.

                “Yeah. A bit.”

                “What does that mean?”

                “My dad was a naval aviator. He died in a training exercise.”

                “Oh. Oh shit. Jake didn’t mention that.”

                “No. It doesn’t exactly make for nice dinner time conversation.”

                “Are you okay with him being a Naval aviator?”

                “Of course. He loves it. Wish the distance wasn’t a thing of course, but it’s fine.”

                “Very pragmatic of you.”

                “I’d rather have the little bits of him that I can than none at all.”

                “Wow. That’s sweet. You’re sweet.”

                “Mostly,” Bradley says with a grin. “Anyway, I have something else I need to bring up. Vi will come and do the actual business talk, but apparently everyone thinks the sauce I made could do well commercially, but I don’t really want to put my name on it. It’s Jake’s sauce…”

                “If everyone could hear you now they would never believe the foul-mouthed and hot-tempered chef Bradley Bradshaw was so smitten with a guy he made him an entire range of ketchups…”

                “Yeah well, it was hurting to watch him put fucking store bought shit on stuff. At least now there’s more nutritional value at least.”

                “If you start making ketchup commercially don’t you think he might get a clue that you’re, I don’t know, more famous that you let on?”

                “He’s seen me on your recipe books. You’re right about him being kind of oblivious about the whole thing.”

                “Yes, well. He won’t care, when he does realize.”

                “Yeah, I think you’re right. He won’t. It’s good, because I’ve got something else which is probably more important to him…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, my dad was a naval aviator and I’ve got a few family friends who are still active. Some of them are quite high up. I think Jake will care more about those than he will about me being famous.”

                “Yes. You are definitely right there. Like… high up family friends?”

                “Like the highest ranking admiral on his current carrier. I asked him to deliver Jake a care package a couple of weeks ago. Jake just mentioned it in passing, no big deal…”

                “Uh…”

                “What?”

                “Oh, he’ll wait until he sees you in person to say something. However, he’ll also have plenty of time to cool down if he was angry about it.”

                “I don’t think he was angry. More curious. It’s not like it’s my actual dad or anything…”

                “Just family friends willing to do you favors. Right.”

                “I’m little orphan Annie. They feel sorry for me.”

                “Hmm. I think you just put on the charm.”

                “Wow Maria, I’m hurt…”

                “Okay, now I see why you and Jake make a good match. I look forward to talking to Vi.”

                “Thanks for the chat…”

                “Anytime Bradley. I mean it.”

…            …            …

                “What are we doing in here?”

                “Well, I know what I’m doing. You just followed me in here like a lost puppy…”

                “Well, I am cute. You didn’t answer my question though.”

                “I’m browsing…”

                “In a culinary store?”

                “Yeah, I want to send Leo something…” Jake says, looking at the different versions of chef whites, and he knows Leo muttered about boring uniform whites, but these are black and have brightly colored fabric on the cuffs and chest piece, and oh… there’s one that’s fucking perfect. He grabs it off the rack and eyes it up, pretty sure it’s the right size, grin wide and he ignores the skeptical eyebrow that Phoenix has raised, clearly unimpressed with his choice.

                “He’s got a giant, uh…” Jake blinks, frowns, his brain not able to come up with the word he’s looking for. “Cock-“

                “I don’t need to know that!”

                “No! Well… no!”

                “La la la la la, I’m not listening!”

                Jake rolls his eyes and pulls her hands away from her ears.

                “What’s another word for male chicken, or cockerel?”

                “Oh,” she lets her hands drop. "You mean rooster?”

                “That’s it! He has a giant rooster tattoo on his leg, and his last name means rooster in Italian…”

                “Oh… okay. Then that’s kind of sweet. Maybe you’re not such a bad catch after all Hangman…”

                “Too late for you to have that realization Phoenix, I am well and truly taken.”

TWENTYSIX

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

Under the rising crescent moon—what washed over me was agitation and bewilderment.

Emma: Living God, what are you...doing...?

Azel: Do I have to explain everything? What on earth is going on in that head of yours?

Prince Azel, who had been sitting with his back against the huge window, pulled me into his lap and embraced me. The warmth I felt against my back seemed to protect my body, which had been chilled by the cold night air of the desert.

Emma: A-Are you...warming me up because I'm cold...?

Azel: Yes, it's a paid service.

Emma: Then I'll pass!

(He's probably going to charge me an exorbitant amount!)

I tried to escape from his arms, but he pinned me down with his legs, rendering my resistance useless.

(I'm trying to pull away with all my might...but I can't...move...!)

Azel: You're cold, aren't you?

Emma: I am cold...but...

Azel: Then give up some of your money.

Emma: Your idea of "some" and my idea of "some" are different!

Emma: Besides, this isn't a normal amount of distance!

Azel: Huh? Normal distance?

Emma: People who are just acquaintances don't do this kind of thing.

Azel: Is that so?

("Is that so"...?)

When I turned sideways and looked up at his face, Prince Azel had a nonchalant expression. As if to say that I was the strange one for being flustered...

Emma: ...Yes, it is. I think most people would misunderstand.

(Especially given Prince Azel's position...)

Azel: Why?

Emma: ...Eh, why?

Azel: I just took the simplest and most efficient method.

(...He really looks like he "doesn't understand.")

(For Prince Azel, it's just that I looked cold, so he hugged me.)

Emma: You're...strange, Prince Azel.

Azel: Is that sarcasm?

Emma: No, it's not...

Emma: You say "it would be troublesome if you fell in love with me," yet you have a strange sense of distance...

Emma: I'm surprised because you do a lot of things that people normally wouldn't do.

Azel: ...Because I'm a God.

Emma: No wonder you're so out of touch with the world—

Emma: Ow, ow, ow!

Azel: After all, that was sarcasm about me being naïve, wasn't it? You've got guts.

Prince Azel, pinching my cheeks, seemed to be in a bad mood.

Azel: How much should I charge you for compensation?

(I'd better not say anything unnecessary anymore!)

I shook my head and curled up in Prince Azel's arms. A huge sigh escaped from behind me, brushing against my skin and making my shoulders jump.

Azel: –...I just did it because you looked cold.

(...That's the kind of thing...)

(...I think I understand a little bit why women flock to the Living God.)

Perhaps the majority are overwhelmingly attracted by the fact that he is a God, but there must be some who are truly captivated by the Living God's "unconscious kindness."

(Now that I've calmed down, I've just noticed...)

Prince Azel's body is still trembling slightly. Even so, my ears are burning at the indescribable feeling I get from him welcoming me into his arms.

(...Even though he's usually a mean God.)

Azel: The aphrodisiac...

Emma: What is it now!?

Azel: Why are you snapping at me?

Emma: I'm not snapping. I'm just renewing my determination to get used to your eccentricities, Living God.

Azel: Whatever, it seems the effects have worn off.

Emma: Ah, you're right. When did that happen...?

(Now that you mention it, I think my body is back to normal.)

(...But it's still hot...)

Azel: That was careless. I was almost attacked.

Emma: Even if a natural disaster occurred, I wouldn't attack you, so please rest assured.

Azel: That's debatable.

Emma: Did you know? In the real world, that's called being conceited—

Emma: Ow, ow, ow, ow!

Azel: Your mouth is in top form today, isn't it? I look forward to your additional payment.

Emma: I'm so-rry!

Prince Azel, pinching both my cheeks, had an even sterner expression than before. I struggled and finally managed to get him to let go, but he turned away sulkily.

(I guess I went a little too far...)

(...Wait, I think Prince Azel's ears are red.)

I couldn't help but smile at this unexpected side of him revealed by the faint moonlight.

(He's a God, but...)

(He's warm.)

Azel: ...Haa, I shouldn't have done anything unnecessary with you.

Perhaps noticing my grin, Prince Azel stood up as if to escape.

Emma: I've warmed up considerably. Thank you very much.

Azel: Then, it's alright to go outside.

Emma: ...Outside?

Azel: To the castle.

Emma: Now!?

Azel: I remembered something urgent. It's extremely troublesome, but...

(...What kind of urgent business could he possibly remember at night?)

Azel: You need to return to the castle once, too, don't you?

Emma: That's true. I want to leave a note for the owner...

Emma: I also want to tell Clavis and Luke.

Azel: Aren't you glad? Thanks to my urgent business, you won't have to walk alone through the desert at night.

Azel: Oh, words of gratitude are unnecessary. Give me a reward instead.

(.............)

(Was Prince Azel always this kind...?)

-

When most people were asleep, I arrived at the castle with Prince Azel.

The people in the castle, caught off guard by the God's sudden visit, hurriedly bowed their heads and tried to guide him to the harem—but Prince Azel brushed them aside with a smile, bid me farewell, and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

The next day—

Clavis: Luke... I thought I just heard something incredibly amusing, but was I mistaken?

Luke: You must have misheard.

Clavis: Is that so... What a shame.

Emma: Then let me say it again.

Early in the morning, I looked around for Clavis and Luke, who had gathered in the guest room.

Emma: I recently passed the recruitment test and will be serving the Living God as a temporary priestess.

Emma: I intend to learn as much as I can while continuing my work as a merchant.

Luke: Ah, guess you didn't mishear after all.

Unable to honestly say, "I'm taking refuge in the temple because I'm afraid of being drugged," I explained the situation with a mix of truth and fiction. Luke and Clavis were both dumbfounded.

Clavis: Emma... does that mean...

Clavis: You'll be living with Prince Azel?

Emma: Cohabitating.

Luke: It's the same thing!

Emma: It's not the same thing! The Living God and I are strictly boss and subordinate; there's nothing else to it!

(...To be precise, it might be more like master and servant bound by debt...)

Clavis: You just had that infatuation incident, right? Boss and subordinate is a bit of a stretch.

Luke: Don't tell me, he's already made a move—

Emma: That's not true!

(The frustration of wanting to explain but not being able to...!)

I wanted to confess everything, but my desire to avoid worrying them and my own shame held me back.

Clavis: I understand why you're uncomfortable staying in the castle.

Clavis: But your father would object.

Emma: ...When did you talk to my father...?

Clavis: I'm Akatsuki's representative. Since I promised to protect you, I absolutely cannot condone an impure relationship.

Emma: There really is nothing going on like what you're imagining, Clavis!

Clavis: Even if there's nothing now, who knows about the future?

Clavis: A man and a woman living under the same roof with nothing happening is impossible, unless they're saints who have taken holy orders.

Emma: He's not just a priest, he's the God himself...

Luke: You... you're hiding something, aren't you?

I flinched.

I tried to cover it up by pretending to sneeze, but the suspicion in Luke's eyes didn't disappear.

Clavis: Haha, being honest is one of Emma's good qualities.

Clavis: However, it seems she doesn't intend to tell us what she's hiding.

(Oh no, this isn't good...)

(I have to distract them somehow—that's it!)

Emma: I-If I can stay by the Living God's side, it should be beneficial for you two as well.

Emma: You're investigating the three-country alliance, right?

Clavis: What...!

Clavis: Not content with being a merchant and a priestess, you intend to moonlight as a spy as well?

Emma: That's right! You only live life once, so I thought I'd try my hand at many things...!

(At this point, I have no choice but to push through.)

Luke: Give it up, you're not cut out to be a spy.

Emma: Of course, I won't do anything dangerous.

Emma: I just want to do what I can for Rhodolite.

Emma: It seems Prince Azel rarely keeps people close to him, so this is a golden opportunity, isn't it?

Emma: Even for you, Clavis and Luke, it would be difficult to get close to the Living God...

Luke: That's true, but I still haven't ruled out the hostage theory.

Clavis: It's possible that by confining Emma to the isolated castle, he's seriously trying to keep us in check.

Clavis: Hmm, this is getting quite exciting, isn't it?

(That shouldn't be the case...)

(...Or is it?)

(Prince Azel sometimes foresees future events, so it's possible that this is all part of his plan.)

Clavis: Even so, you want to go to the God's side of your own free will?

Clavis, his smile gone, turned serious.

(Wh-what...?)

Clavis: Could it be... love?

Emma: No, it's not.

Clavis: So it is love...!

Emma: I said it's not!

Clavis: Luke... Love is inevitable.

Luke: It's not inevitable! Stop her!

Clavis: What are you saying? If Emma has truly fallen for Prince Azel, it would be rude to interfere.

Luke: Where's the father who said he wouldn't allow an impure relationship?

Clavis: Gritting your teeth and enduring the pain in your heart to support your daughter's love is also a father's duty.

(...This is such a disgraceful misunderstanding, but I can't clear it up.)

(But I'm not in love! Absolutely not!)

I kept my denial to myself.

Clavis: Besides, as Emma said, we can't deny that we want information from the God's side, can we?

Luke: Hey...

Ignoring Luke's attempt to stop him, Clavis walked past me and looked out the window. From there, he could see the bustling city of Tanzanite in the distance.

Clavis: Emma... are you aware that something strange is happening in Tanzanite?

Emma: ...About the false diviners?

Clavis: Yes, that's right. If you know, then it saves time, but there's always a cause for an anomaly.

Clavis: The increased rate of divination failures means it's highly likely that someone is manipulating things to turn out that way.

(......!)

Clavis: Though I have absolutely no idea what method they're using, haha.

*flashback*

Emma: ...Does the recent failure of divinations have anything to do with the Living God?

Azel: Of course it does.

Azel: Maybe it's because I've grown tired of people?

*flashback over*

(If I take Prince Azel's words at face value, it means that something beyond human comprehension is the cause...)

(Honestly, I feel like I was deceived.)

(It doesn't sit right with me, it's been bothering me.)

Emma: If that's the case, then for what purpose...?

Luke: If you think about it normally, isn't it likely that someone is trying to frame the God?

(Frame...the God?)

Luke: Divination in Tanzanite is synonymous with divine revelation, right?

Luke: At first, people might think it's the diviner's fault.

Luke: But if the same thing starts happening to every diviner...

Luke: They'll start to think the problem lies elsewhere.

Clavis: In fact, some public opinion seems to be leaning that way.

Clavis: "Could it be that the divine revelation itself is wrong?" ...Or so they say.

(...I hadn't thought of that.)

Clavis: If that's the case, Prince Azel will be the next target.

Clavis: Though, I can't imagine anyone in this country would dare to denounce a God.

(Divination is the interpretation of the voice of the Gods...)

*earlier*

Azel: Don't you think it's ridiculous? Interpreting the voice of the Gods or whatever, when "I haven't said anything"...

(The more I learn, the less I understand.)

(What exactly is "divination" in this country?)

Just gathering the information I have at hand only reveals the illusion's surface.

Who is manipulating the divinations to fail, and for what purpose...?

I don't even know if it's possible to "intentionally make divinations fail" in the first place.

Clavis: Whether or not this series of events is related to the three-country alliance...

Clavis: Only Prince Azel knows.

Clavis: But Prince Azel is extremely busy. It's unlikely he'll have time for us.

Emma: ...It's my turn to be obsessed with the God.

(I'm sorry to betray Prince Azel, but Rhodolite is important to me too.)

Luke: Why are you getting even more motivated?

Clavis: Haha, we have no right to stop Emma anyway.

Clavis: Besides, she herself is so eager to be at Prince Azel's side.

(...I want to cry.)

Clavis: Your father, while concerned about his daughter's future, will wholeheartedly support you—

Aisha/Nadia: "Lady Emma...!"

Emma: !?

Interrupting Clavis, two maids suddenly burst into the guest room.

Their faces were pale, and they prostrated themselves before me, seemingly terrified.

Emma: Wh-what's wrong?

Aisha: We're so sorry, we're so sorry!

Nadia: We didn't mean any harm, please forgive us!

Aisha: We didn't know anything. We thought you would be happy with something that's popular in the harem...

Nadia: We didn't want to set you up or humiliate you. Please forgive us, please forgive us...!

The two of them crying and wailing was disturbing.

Even Luke, and Clavis, who usually loves bizarre things, were dumbfounded.

Emma: C-Calm down...

Even when I spoke to them, they just kept trembling and repeating the same words over and over again, like broken dolls.

As if they were in the midst of a nightmare—my voice wasn't reaching them.

Aisha: We're so sorry, we're so sorry, we're so sorry, we're so sorry, we're so sorry...

Nadia: Please forgive us, please forgive us, please forgive us, please forgive us, please forgive us...

Azel: Oh my, what's all the commotion...?

Azel: How amusing.

.

.

.

Chapter 9 His Side Story

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[starmocha]

So the theory I had in simplest terms (which I’m significantly less confident about now after rewatching chapter 2 lmao), was that each time MC was forced to die by the Gaia researchers, it created the alternate timelines of each LI—their “myths” if you will, except for the myths for the current timeline (like Captivating Flavor). Potentially a testament to how many times MC was forced to die.

There’s literally specific rooms in the old Gaia building designated for Xavier, Zayne, and Rafayel from their alt timelines, plus a research team for each one. Potentially Sylus too, but tbh bc his name isn’t there I doubt they know of him and MC, and I definitely think we would’ve seen her say if Sylus had a room too. AWBFJSFJS anyway that’s the theory feel free to roll with it or dissect it and prove me wrong with info so I don’t look silly anymore haha.

Also something is telling me that current MC was supposed to be Sylus’s MC (if that makes sense), but when she was lost to the Deepspace Tunnel when they got separated, her body may have been destroyed, forcing her power to have her be reborn in the Collision Chamber (or in the research center in general)—and now that she’s been “reborn,” she’s no longer (technically) Sylus’s. Bc the chamber was probably the one place her power could resonate properly to reconstruct her body, since the chamber was essentially (from what I understand) reverberating energy to recreate that endless supply for immortality.

… This got really fucking long 😂 Anyway feel free to correct me on anything with info u have or disperse any of what I just typed out with ur own theories and whatnot lmao bc I need clarity on what just happened in this update 😵‍💫 Also atp I’m gonna skip every banner bc if Raf is supposed to be getting a third myth then Sylus probably will too and I’ve gotta save my diamonds for my dragon heehee *inhales delulu gas* 🥰 I’m gonna be so mad if we don’t get a myth of MC and Sylus in them fighting in the Interstellar Arena

No, I think this theory is very interesting! I really want to go back and revisit all mentions and side stories related to this period of MC's life. The recent chapters have definitely highlighted how truly horrifying and inhumane this lab is, and with the reveal of those specific doors, it opens up so many more questions.

With Sylus, it reminds me of this link one of my mutuals just shared. Honestly, when I finished reading Sylus' chapters, I was not expecting that scene of them together as children. It just makes everything related to his earlier meetings with her so much sadder. It also explains why he's so hopelessly devoted and smitten with her. 🥺

Honestly, I'm still processing everything and trying to make sense of what we know so far. I haven't had theories of anything yet other than perhaps Dawnbreaker might just be a persona Zayne had unconsciously developed as a coping mechanism for the trauma he had experienced at 12. If that's the case, then it feels like he won't truly have peace and full control of his EVOL until he learns to accept Dawnbreaker as part of him and for what he is/represents: a more brutal side of Zayne.

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Darling28

(#Interview1)

Welcome to the first interview of The Dear Writer Project and a massive thank you to the wonderful Darling28 for being so supportive of this whole idea since the beginning!

Darling28 about her writing process, her inspirations, her experiences with writers block and her future plans on writing:

What does your writing process usually look like and is it always kind of the same for every story you’ve written?

Oh interesting question. It's usually the case that ideas come from the simplest things and suddenly a complete plot is in my head within minutes or sometimes even seconds. At least the rough outline. Apart from that, my characters often like to take the plot for themselves and I just watch in amazement at what they let me write. I often suffer as much as the reader when I write because I let it flow out of me and often don't know what to expect. Most of the time, though, I have a specific scene in mind in the beginning, often for the middle of the story, and I can hardly wait until I finally get to the point where I can write it. The end of a story quite often involves a marriage proposal, I realise, even if I don't always intend to, but Louis and Harry in my stories are very stubborn about it.

But other than that, my writing process is pretty simple: get excited about a new idea, start writing immediately, often at a speed that makes my betas despair and end up questioning the whole story until I reread it myself and suddenly love it.

Do you have any sort of structured writing plan before you start writing or do you just write what comes to mind?

I'm absolutely far from structured. I have the problem that my best ideas about what to write next come to me when I'm driving and I have to memorise whole conversations or scenes for the rest of the journey. As soon as I've parked, I write it down as a note. But there's really nothing more than these few notes, no mood board or major characterisations, I just let myself go with the flow. I also think that would take some of the fun out of it for me personally, I love getting to know my characters over the course of the story and I don't want to plan everything in detail beforehand.

You said before that you write a lot, especially after you’ve got a new idea in mind. How much time do you invest in writing in your day to day life?

I actually write every day and usually around 3-4k. I think it takes about 3 hours of my time, but that's really just a rough estimate. I usually write already in the morning at breakfast before I have to go to work and then spread the rest over the afternoon and evening.

Our Souls Intertwined is your longest work at the moment. Was it also the one you wrote the longest on?

Our Souls Intertwined… I wrote this story together with freakingmeout and we took turns writing chapters, each of us wrote one character. Despite the length, I don't think we really needed much time to finish it because the other author is just as fast as I am at writing and often each of us had finished a chapter within a day. It was perhaps a little worrying in hindsight haha.

If it wasn’t Our Souls Intertwined, what work of yours did take you the longest?

Oh wow I think you've got me now and I can't give you an answer off the top of my head.

I'm guessing it might be Calm after the storm because that's my longest story that I wrote on my own. So it makes sense that it probably took me the longest to write.

But when I think about it, it could also be the current one I'm writing that hasn't been published yet. My last few weeks haven't been easy for personal reasons and I haven't had time to write and everything has stalled. I just started writing again a few days ago and am catching up.

She also told me that she sometimes drives her betas crazy with the amount and pace that she writes. On some Sundays she writes all day and sometimes feels a bit empty inside afterwards, she admitted.

What work of yours did come together the fastest?

I would say Men are shit. This story practically wrote itself and I could just let my thoughts, which I put into the story as Louis’, run free and didn't have to think about them any further. It was a great experience and I love this Louis so much!

Do you finish writing the story completely before you start publishing or do you start publishing whenever you finished a chapter?

For my first stories, I posted while I was writing. So I finished a chapter, had it proofread and then published it.

However, my only beta at the time had of course her own life and sometimes couldn't keep up with the speed at which I wanted to update again.

So at some point I started to finish writing and only then published it.

What worked better for you, personally?

Both definitely have their pros and cons. But I really liked publishing in the writing process. You get immediate feedback on what you've written, sometimes even ideas for the rest of the plot from readers' comments.

However, it would have stressed me out a lot, like in my situation the last few weeks where I couldn't write anything and had to make the reader wait for updates.

What inspires you in your day to day life the most?

The story often comes to me really quite by chance, mostly inspired by songs, not so much by the lyrics but by the feelings they convey, what lies between the lines.

Did you ever have a writers block and what helped you out of it / What do you do if you feel unmotivated?

Yes, I've had a writers block for the last few months and I've missed writing so much. But there's no point forcing yourself and for me it was best to wait until it felt right again. Before that, I didn't have anything like that as far as I can remember. Sometimes I just didn't know what to write next and got a bit stuck, but my advice here is: just start writing. Don't think, just do it.

And if I'm just unmotivated then I leave it for the day because I know it'll be definitely easier the next one.

What do you find most stressful/annoying/repetitive in the process of writing a story?

For me it's the hardest thing to end the story because then I'm usually so connected to the characters that it feels like saying goodbye to a dear friend every time and I'm actually really sad.

Oh and one thing that really frustrates me is that my Louis and Harry very often crash the chapter with sex. I love writing smut but sometimes they overdo it (okay it amuses me a bit too).

Darling28 also told me, that one of her favourite phases in writing a story is the getting-to-know-each-other phase. She said that she loves it because that’s when she feels like the characters come to life and the tension between them grows.

Can you tell me something about any future projects you’re working on?

I'm happy to tell you about future projects!

In addition to my many ideas for stories that I haven't started yet, I'm currently writing four open ones. Two with other authors and two of my very own. I hope that I will soon be able to present the readers with something new from me, because for me it is always the best thing to finally be able to share my work with the fandom.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Darling28 more specific questions about her works.

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

It's really difficult to name THE one. But I'll go with the three that come to my mind first, okay?

Calm after the storm, because I love their love in this story and I felt for both of them while writing it. It still touches me today.

Men are shit, because Louis is just chaos but so sweet at the same time. I loved describing his ADHD brain, letting his mind run wild. I wanted to give neurospicy people a story in which they can find themselves and feel understood.

True Colours, because I wrote this story for my friend and beta who wanted me to make Harry really suffer as it's usually Louis in my stories who has to go through everything horrible. I love the development of the two of them in this story. They heal together and I don't think there's anything better.

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who isn’t familiar with your works and why?

I think that would be Paparazzi. That's the most popular one of mine and it contains a bit of everything but it's not as extremely angsty as others that I wrote. A bit of enemies to lovers, gay awakening, smut, fluff - what more could you want?

A lot of your works are based around complicated and complex topics like having a bad relationship with your parents, mental health issues and homelessness and everything that comes along with it. Why do you specifically choose to write about those topics?

I love the drama and the big emotions.

But also because none of our lives are perfect. Everyone has their own struggles and their own traumas and I love picking up on that. It especially touches me when readers find themselves in it, feel understood and heard. I think for some it's some kind of validation. It's wonderful to turn something very sad into something very good. As much as I love the drama, I also love the happy ending.

And of course it's also free therapy in a way. There's always a part of me in most stories.

The Magic Within You is your only story, that doesn’t really have any of those topics (besides of Louis’ tendencies to panic quickly). Why did you want to write something so different to your usual writing style?

The Magic Within You is a pure, cheesy Christmas story that was set up like an advent calendar when I posted it, but I think it can be read very well throughout the year.

I always find Christmas a difficult time of the year myself. Lots of people come together and I'm often overwhelmed. I especially wanted to give people who might feel the same way a cute story, offer some distraction and sweeten the day. I hope I succeeded.

By the way, I love how you mentioned the panicky side of Louis. So adorable.

Is something like an advent calendar planned for this christmas season too or was it a one-time thing for you?

No, I haven't planned another one, but never say never. Maybe I'll suddenly get an idea in October and start writing like crazy.

Actually, a sequel to The Magic Within You was planned for this summer but unfortunately I couldn't do that for personal reasons that I had already mentioned. But I definitely want to publish the sequel next year!

You wrote Our Souls Intertwined and Bring me to life with freakingmeout. How did that go?

Oh it's a totally interesting experience because here too we only had the rough plot, but because everyone wrote their character in alternating chapters it was always exciting for the other to see what would happen in the chapter of the other. Sometimes I sat there shocked or totally amused and had to think about how I was going to live through certain situations with my character. It's definitely anything but boring and you experience it as an author as well as a reader.

When I asked her if it feels like a roleplay kind of thing she actually confirmed that it does sometimes feel like exactly that.

Paparazzi is your most popular work. Why do you think this one in particular got the most attention?

I have absolutely no idea why Paprazzi is the most popular one. I often ask myself that but maybe it's really because it's not such a heavy one? But instead of looking for answers, I prefer to be happy that so many people like it.

Is there a work of yours that you’d like to get the attention that Paparazzi got or just more attention in general?

Oh yes, definitely. In my personal opinion, Holding On To Heartache has far too little attention. I know where it comes from, or rather I suspect that the tag 'suicide attempt' puts a lot of people off, but I still think it's worth reading. You can always expect a happy ending with my stories.

Is there a work of yours that you wouldn’t publish again in hindsight?

I must confess that I have already deleted my very first story. And I know that my betas and friends will kill me if they read this now. Because they kept stopping me every time I had a crisis about this story but I did it nontheless one day. I guess my secret is out now... oops. If you read this, please don't be mad!

But I'm actually thinking about revising it and publishing it again at some point.

Are there any characters in one of your stories that are inspired by people or animals you know in real life?

Yes... Bree in 'Paparazzi' is my friend and beta. But I don't think I realised until the later chapters that I was using her as a role model for this absolutely wonderful character.

For the last part of the interview, I asked Darling28 some personal questions that are more about the fandom and less about her experiences with writing.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a part of it?

I am a Lockdown-Larrie haha. I was watching Tik Tok videos out of sheer boredom like probably so many others and suddenly a video with two guys popped up. It's this one where Harry is sitting on the armchair, Louis is sitting on the armrest while Harry is looking up at Louis, absolutely enamoured. I was just sitting there and I remember thinking: who the hell are these two guys that are so in love?

I read through the comments and searched the web for more informations. After that, my days were filled with watching all the YouTube videos and then making a Twitter account. I was absolutely down the rabbit hole and I don't regret it one day. At first I was in the lane of LHH (I mean, come on, just look at him) but then I listened to Louis music and he got my number 1 and never lost rank again. Also, the song Just hold on saved me, the lockdown was not a good time for my mental health.

Your favourite Louis and Harry Era?

LHH forever. If I had enough money I would bribe him to let them grow long again. Although I'd have to meet him first. My plan isn't finalised yet as you can see but yeah... I think you know now how serious I am, haha.

And Louis... Hedgehog and FITF. I just love when his hair is fluffy.

Your favourite movie H starred in?

My Policeman. Damn, I was broken after watching it but it's so good.

Who’s your favourite writer in the fandom at the moment?

One of my favourite authors is BoosBabycakes. I especially love their a/b/o stories!

And your all-time favourite fic in the fandom?

Oh, that's really difficult. There are too many good ones and I really need to think about it for a moment. But I would like to name a story that is not one of the fandom's always recommended ones.

Okay... I go with this one, it's definitely one of my favourite a/b/o stories, the nesting is so sweetly described and I think I really need to read it again:

You've Got A Higher Power, You're Once In Any Lifetime by BoosBabycakes

What makes you want to stop reading something?

If the story is written in first person or the plot doesn't make sense to me and I question too much in the story. Some stories are also too artificially drawn out for me. I don't like slooooooow burn. My attention span doesn't last that long.

Your favourite song at the moment?

Call me by Neeve, it's a small german indie band but I like them a lot.

Of course nothing beats Louis music, I hope I don't have to mention that, do I?

Do you have a favourite movie or a favourite series at the moment?

No, neither of them. I haven't watched anything for ages. I prefer to spend my free time writing.

What was the most unusual thing that inspired you at some point?

Erm I hope this doesn't come across as weird but Louis' bum and waist. For some of my a/b/o stories and ideas that I still want to write.

What is your favourite season?

Spring, when everything turns green again and starts to blossom.

She also told me, that she has hay fever and that sometimes it’s unbearable for her until autumn but she still loves spring the most, especially after the darker months.

Who would you like to read an interview from?

I don't have a specific author in mind but I'd like it to be someone with a smaller fanbase to draw more attention to them.

I wanted to make it a little tradition for every interview, that every writer gives every of their works a colour and a season. It’s just a fun little thing for the end of the interview I thought would be interesting. Thankfully, Darling28 thought it was a great idea too, so here are the results:

Captured Ink, Hidden Hearts - pink and black, spring.

Bring me to life - darkblue, autumn.

Our Souls Intertwined - dark red, late summer.

True Colours - rainbow, obviously, autumn.

Men are shit - pink and green, summer

The Magic Within You - ice blue and white, winter (on a sunny day)

Tainted Love - brown, winter

Calm after the Storm - purple, early spring

Tank tops and a phone call - red, summer (a very hot day)

Letters - dark green, last summer days

I'm with you - white and grey, autumn

Paparazzi - yellow, summer

Holding On To Heartache - black with golden sprinkles, winter

Paradise is in your own mind (Sequel HOTH) - dark pink, spring

You Sunshine, You Temptress - green, summer

Careless Whisper - dark blue, winter

A huge thank you again to Darling28. Thanks for understanding my vision and being so open and kind. I appreciate it so much.

[midnightcrw]

Running away

Chapter 3

Anagapesis

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: Life really had it in for you. Just moving to a new apartment seemed to unleash a brand new hell

Warnings: Panic Attack

"I hate this," Grace huffed with a pout on her face, making her face appear rounder. This time her blonde wavy hair had been put up in a high bun with multiple vibrant coloured clips to push the stray strands out of her face.

Her usual skirt was nowhere to be seen as she wore blue washed-out jeans with a red knit sweater on, that engulfed her entire body. Her bracelets never seemed to leave her arms either since the first day.

Grace seemed to never have a bad looking day. She always put a lot of effort into what she wore and made even the most simplest clothes look outstanding.

"It's not that bad," you tried to sound encouraging, knowing that she was exhausted and probably wanted to quit. She had even once accidentally spoken too loudly around your employer, which ended up getting her into trouble.

"You're lucky that you still have this job, Grace!" The stern voice of your employer, Josephine, was heard as you bit your lip, not knowing how to react. It was still early, so only you, your co-workers and employer were present.

The lecture went on for minutes, which seemed more like hours at this point, and once Josephine thought that Grace heard enough of her rant, she left you all to yourselves.

"Old hag," the twenty-year-old girl had muttered under her breath, with both of her arms crossed. She had rolled her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows, making her green eyes look kind of intimidating, completely different from the way they would usually shone in their own unique way.

You just snickered quietly at her when she muttered quietly, or at least that's what Grace thought when the loud, agitating voice yelled, "I heard that!".

Grace turned her head towards you so quickly that you were almost afraid that she might have broken her neck at the process of it. "Well, you didn't have to clean every single shelve until she was pleased with the result," you followed her exaggerated hand gestures with your eyes, trying to hold back the smile that was slowly making its way to your face.

"I'm sure she made her way outside to collect dirt and put it into one of those yellow buckets she has lying around. She probably even scraped the streets clean just to throw the dirt onto these shelves, I just know it!" She pushed her round, black-framed glasses up her button nose in anger, making her look like a little chipmunk.

Not being able to hold back the grin on your face, you interrupted her before she could rant any further. "Maybe the shelves have always been this dirty. I never looked at them too closely. "

Grace narrowed her eyes at you in annoyance, "Nope, I always look at the shelves and they were clean yesterday. Like, nobody goes to the encyclopedia section, so why would the shelves there be dirty!?" Her arms moved around almost comically, even hitting the desk lightly in process.

It had been ten days since you'd moved, and you liked it here. Working at the library wasn't so boring with Grace around, having her daily shenanigans. It made your days by far more enjoyable since she never ran out of energy.

The only thing that was still questionable was the whole apartment complex thing with Amanda and Simon. Nothing too suspicious happened, but it still made you wonder what happened to make Amanda dislike him. Even some other people in your apartment complex didn't like him when you asked them for their opinion.

But Simon... Simon wasn't bad. He didn't seem to be a bad guy. Sure, he was questionable when it came to hiding himself from other people's eyes, but that shouldn't be a reason to hate him.

After your first conversation with Edith, you really tried to keep an open mind and not let others control your thoughts about him. And indeed, things did change.

You noticed little things about him whenever you two came across each other. His walk was something you hadn't noticed before, he walks silently, not a single footstep being heard. But the more you observed him, the more you realized that he didn't do it forcibly, it must have been a habit, but it looked strange to you. To see such a big man almost as quiet as a mouse, if not quieter than a mouse.

Simon's posture was just like Amanda's, absolutely perfect. Standing straight in a way you could only hope for. His head was always held high as well, never tilting down unless he saw you.

His body language told you nothing. It was a mystery, he was a mystery. It was as if he was hiding something. If he had also covered his hands up, you would have thought he wasn't even human.

His big hands would often times be inside his hoodie or pant pockets, only letting them be visible when he pulled his keys out to open the door to his apartment. Whenever you saw even the slightest glimpse of his hands, they would make you shiver slightly, not even knowing why. His hands looked pretty, even though they were obviously rough and calloused.

The pale, healed scars on them didn't make you any less curious. There were just too many scars for them to be accidents, unless he had a clumsy side to himself which made the corners of your lips curl up a little. Imagining him stumbling over his own feet was both hilarious and endearing.

You even looked forward to his little nods in greeting. You still hadn't heard a single sound from him, not even a hum or a sigh. Only his nods were the only indication you had to be sure that he had seen and heard you.

Daydreaming, as usual, didn't seem to be the best thing to do around Grace because she suddenly flicked your forehead. The flick stung a little, probably leaving a light red hue on your forehead.

Rubbing the spot, you glared at her "Why did you do that?". The young woman's face looked at you as if you were the dumbest person she had ever met. She even crossed her arms over her chest and had removed her glasses, which were now lying on the desk between the two of you.

"First, you ignored me when I talked about our 'lovely' boss," she continued, empathizing the word 'lovely' with her voice, "and second, you started grinning like an idiot, so I thought about either taking a picture or flicking your forehead to make you stop".

Happy with the fact that she had chosen the latter, she burst your bubble "And I did both of those things".

You just rolled your eyes at her.

This day had been stressful, probably more so for Grace, but also for you, because there were a lot of students here today. Probably studying for their finals, which didn't bother you at all, the problem was that they wanted to start an argument with you about the fact that there were no more seats available, which you had tried to resolve until you realized that nothing you would do would make these students happy, so you just sent them over to Henry, who also worked here.

"Since you ignored me, how about you tell me the reason for your smile?" Grace asked you while giving you a playful wink, already internally groaning at her.

In those couple of days, you had told her about Amanda and Simon. Not going too deep with the details, but just enough for her to not get worried, and you were already starting to regret it.

She would ask you about Simon every day, and the answer would be the same. "How's Simon doing?" She sounded all hearty, not caring at all about your lack of expression, already having guessed that it was about your next door neighbour.

Groaning, you put your face in your hands, slightly muffling your words "I don't know, kid." You really couldn't answer that question. There had never been a real conversation between the two of you.

And before Grace could open her mouth, you interrupted her, "How's Jake doing?" With this question, the young woman's face lit up. Her smile was almost dazzling. It was probably the biggest you had ever seen on her face.

Her eyes got a slight bit wider at the mention of his name, almost twinkling a little. Her pupils dilated, showing far less of her green eyes now.

"He's great - Well, I-I mean, he's doing great -" Before she could embarrass herself any further, you chuckled at her. It was obvious that she had fallen in love with this guy she had met three days ago.

From what she had told you, or rather swooned over, he was exactly her type. Light brown curly hair, tanned skin, tall, a little intimidating at first glance, but apparently, he was very sweet to her.

You were happy for her, but still a bit wary since it had only been three days, and you didn't want her to get her heart broken into a million pieces.

And while she continued her long talk about him, you heard a small notification sound coming from your phone. Ignoring it for the moment, you just listened to what Grace told you.

Her crush liked basketball, went to university, and so on. It seemed endless as she listed you all of Jake's qualities. In some of these listed things you teasingly jabbed at her, as she could only respond in a sheepish tone, far too engrossed with Jake to care about your little remarks about the "most perfect man who existed just for her".

What got to you, though, were the notifications. You still didn't look at them, ignoring them, wanting to give Grace some attention. At first it was just a single notification, but then it continued a few more times, leaving you a little confused, since you didn't really have much contact with others, except for a few of your family members.

Not bothering for now, you decided to look through them when your shift was over. You rubbed the back of your neck, which was a little stiff from not sleeping well last night.

Your shift had ended half an hour ago, and you finally made it to your apartment complex. The weather outside hadn't been too bad, just a little cold, but nothing to complain about.

The rest of your work day had just been filled with several students trying to find a place to study and listening to Grace's stories. Even though you never really thought that working in the library would be exhausting, it was indeed exhausting because today it was just you and Grace.

Your other co-workers had left earlier and your employer didn't care, as usual, and let you and Grace take care of everything else.

Eyes fixed on the stairs, you walked up while holding the railing. You thought back to your work day and remembered that you still had to go through your messages.

It wasn't long before you were on your floor, walking towards your apartment door as you opened the messages that had been sent, and that's exactly what you shouldn't have done.

You stopped dead in your tracks, as if someone had just pulled out a gun and pointed it at you. With no control over your body, your hand dropped the phone to the ground.

Normally, you would have picked it up to make sure the phone's display wasn't broken, but this time was different. You couldn't care less. You felt numb all over, unable to move an inch of your body the way you wanted to.

Your breathing accelerated, almost sounding like a panting. It was frantic, none of it seemed calm, you weren't calm. You couldn't be calm, not after this.

Please stop...

I won't do it again, I promise

I'll be better

Several sounds filled your head, all at once. This time you were able to decipher them and you wished you weren't able to. You wished for it to stop.

Your mind was filled with your cries and pleas. Tears rolling down your face, which you only noticed after your vision blurred.

Unable to stand upright, your legs already shaking along with your entire body, you fell to your knees. The pain of the fall didn't matter to you at all, you couldn't even feel it. You were sure you wouldn't even feel it if someone had punched you in the face.

Blinking rapidly, you looked at your hands. They were shaking just as badly, and as much as you wanted to hold on to your legs, to ground yourself to something, your hands wouldn't. They were shaking, but they never had the strength to hold anything, even when you desperately needed it.

Your mind was filled with so many noises and sounds that you didn't even notice a person looking down at you. You could only look at your hands in shock as you suddenly felt the ground vibrate beneath you.

The vibration continued until you could avert your teary eyes and look ahead of you.

It was Simon, on his knees on the ground. Had it not been for your current state, you might have been surprised. He probably had stomped on the ground to get your attention.

But what caught your attention were his brown eyes. It was the first time you had seen his eyes, even a glimpse of humanity other than his scarred, veiny hands. His hood had been pulled up a little, just enough for you to see them.

They were mesmerizing, his eyes hypnotic. They drew you to them, almost in want, in need. His eyes were trained on yours, never leaving yours, not even for a second.

And soon the sounds began to fade, the sounds of pure sadness and despair were gone. You began to become more aware of your surroundings, of Simon.

Still looking at his face, you noticed his dark blonde eyebrows, a pale scar running along the edge. There was no hair growing there, leaving him with a slit in his right eyebrow.

"I got you," Simon's deep voice rasped out. It was the first time you heard his voice and it was like a drug. Addictive in a way that no other voice had been for you.

His voice brought you back, made your trembling subside slightly, now you could actually move your body as you wiggled your fingers to get rid of the numb feeling.

Your heart stopped its relentless pounding against your ribcage and became a calmer beat. Even your panting had stopped, slowly breathing in and out over and over again.

"There you are," it sounded almost like a praise, you wanted to hear more but were too afraid to ask.

You were calm now, still a little shaken, but calmer nonetheless, and you even took in the tiny earthy and smoky scent of him. Usually you didn't like the smell of smoke, it gave you a headache, but this one was soothing.

Then realisation dawned on you. He calmed you down, he didn't even touch you, keeping his distance to you as he had made you feel at ease. It hadn't been overwhelming until you actually thought about it.

And with that, you stood up abruptly on wobbly legs and slammed the door as soon as you had opened it, leaving Simon all alone.

Would he think of you as pathetic now? Or pity you?

Taglist:

@ghostlythots

@kittyoonsstuff

[awindandtruthliveblog]

[Wind and Truth: Chapter 82]

That map's funny too. Also, on the bottom, "checked for accuracy by Du(???)ix (???)". Man idk

Navani can see a Connection! An important one.

Of course these days are shadowed. Also, every Radiant in this time kinda sucks, what's up with that?

If Nale did actually tell the Radiants about humanity on Roshar, I can't really blame him for it. Shouldn't have been a secret.

Surface level, illiteracy does do that. The page is right about gender injustices though

Neat that this guy (Garith) is a Windrunner. They do look only like heroes so far, we forget the variance in people

Gav needs to get out of here he's 5. Stormfather please get over your pettiness for Dalinar.

Yooo Connection in it's simplest form, hell yeah

Wow Navani's so cool. She deserves to learn cosmere-level secrets. Brandon writes such nice characters

Adolin's a ragdoll. Poor guy. He's got a concussion.

That's so many Fused. They've won the numbers game by far.

Poor Zarb's probably dead too

Ooh, Nezahim, that's rough. Squashed.

Wait so why was the chain even aluminum? Just because it's light enough to be massive? But, so easily breakable. I don't get it.

Azimir is not going well.

[dilutedconfusion]

okay listen so i've been thinking heavily on the yandere trope recently. but like with Kid as the yandere. and whenever i see yandere!Kid i feel like he's always the more sadistic version of yanderes.

basically used this post (hoping the link works for you🙏🙏) to look at the dif types bc i dont know all that😭 but i feel like he is always sadistic/possessive in fics. obvi all yandere!aus are gonna be at least a little ooc bc its a divergence of canon characteristics but hear me out girl...

delusional and overprotective yandere!Kid... like girl. or like basically a kinda soft yandere!Kid. but like still horrible and awful not GREAT at emotions. like he will still get mad and yell but otherwise? is strangely kind to you? (w you not really realizing any subtle manipulation tactics that him or Killer might be using cuz Killer is loyal asf to Kid🤞)

like being kidnapped by the Kid pirates, the worst of the worst generation, said to be cruel and sadistic. that's already bad, and you're terrified for your life. essentially having a meltdown because you had no idea what was going to happen to you, but you had a guess. you meet Kid and prepare to be tortured/killed. then he's like??? weirdly nice to you? like yeah he's gruff and kinda bitchy but that is a thousand times better than being killed.

thats as far as the thoughts go but see my vision?? figured you would appreciate the Kid thoughts🙏

OKAY OKAY I love this SOOO MUCH. Like I don’t think I can explain how much I love this but you SLAYED. GIVING ME LINKS AND DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS AND SHIZ 🤭💞 Okay so to get right to the point I will be of course writing a chapter on this (or maybe multiple on this because that’s how good of an idea it is pookie). BUT I don’t know when I’ll be able to churn out a full chapter. I mean probably soon but I sorta just want to get a better grasp of exactly the kind of character you want Kid to be before I start writing. So here’s a little traits list?? that I cooked up the minute I read over this just to get my creative juices flowing. Let me know if Im headed in the right direction and if there is any changes or additions you’d like to see. Other than that I’ll write up the chapter, tag and credit the hell out of you, and we can revel in softyandere!Kid together 🥰

Traits

Thinks that kidnapping you was the best choice for your life. That you will be the safest and happiest with him (even if you’re kidnapped and being held against your will)

Often uses manipulation tactics like love bombing, balant lying to keep you in the dark, and triangulation with Killer

Not only believes that everyone else in the world is a hazard to you (including most of his crew members) but you’re a hazard to yourself so he doesn’t allow you privacy??? This could be taken to the point where he feels like he needs to be in the same room with you at all times. Eyes on you whenever physically possible. Which is sorta intense so just let me know if that is too much for you (cause I could make it really gross or more mild lol)

Will do even the simplest task for you, not because he wants to do it to help, but because he doesn’t believe you can take care of yourself or MOREOVER he should be the only to take care of you because he is just that great. Which of course he will hang over y/n’s head in arguments and be like “BUT LOOK AT HOW MUCH I DO FOR YOU😡” type shit.

If you do constantly try to pull away from him he’ll think you’re just shy or playing hard to get and will therefore push your boundaries harder. But if you actually PHYSICALLY harm him or try to PERMANENTLY leave he’d rather tie you down until you apologize and say you weren’t in your right mind when you did that then listen to your plea seriously (HES SO DELULU) The punishment for this could also involve taking away material items or aspects of freedom because like you said he's not sadistic so he would never hurt you.

To put it simply y/n would feel like this “I like you Kid but I don’t like who you become when you're with me” WHICH WOULD CAUSE SOME SERIOUS TURBULENCE IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND SOME SWEET ANGST EVEN.

I would write more but I don’t want to give TO MUCH away plot wise. Sooo hopefully this gives you a good idea on how I’m thinking of portraying Kid. If you have any other questions of course ask me!! Any little tid bits will be much appreciated and thank you so much for requesting something from me Emma 🫶

[greatwyrmgold]

Malthus Was Wrong

Malthus's singular contribution to human knowledge was the idea of using the theories of population biology on humanity. However, all of his actual conclusions are demonstrably incorrect.

You've probably heard people say that, but you probably haven't heard all the ways it's true. Let's start at the simplest and move on to the most significant.

Part 1: Malthus made his own argument badly

Consider this quote from An Essay on the Principle of Population, chapter 2.

In the next twenty-five years, it is impossible to suppose that the produce could be quadrupled. It would be contrary to all our knowledge of the qualities of land. The very utmost that we can conceive, is, that the increase in the second twenty-five years might equal the present produce. Let us then take this for our rule, though certainly far beyond the truth, and allow that, by great exertion, the whole produce of the Island might be increased every twenty-five years, by a quantity of subsistence equal to what it at present produces. The most enthusiastic speculator cannot suppose a greater increase than this. In a few centuries it would make every acre of land in the Island like a garden. Yet this ratio of increase is evidently arithmetical. It may be fairly said, therefore, that the means of subsistence increase in an arithmetical ratio.

This is a crucial part of Malthus's argument. The whole idea is that population grows geometrically while food supply grows arithmetically, so population will inevitably exceed food supply at some point.

But his basis for that central claim is just "Let us take this for our rule". He doesn't provide data, or even suggest a mechanism by which food production might be increase every twenty-five years by an amount equal to the present produce. He just says it and hopes you agree.

At that time, that might not have been such a terrible omission. If we accept that the human population will grow geometrically as long as there is a surplus of food, food production would also need to grow geometrically (or hyperbolically or something) to keep up. And surely that couldn't happen, right?

Part 2: The Green Revolution

If you have heard one explanation for why Malthus was wrong, it's this one.

The Green Revolution, more formally called the Third Agricultural Revolution (after the Neolithic and British Agricultural Revolutions), was a loose set of agricultural innovations which spread through the early and middle 20th centuries, ranging from new grain cultivars to chemical fertilizers to mechanization. Collectively, they made it possible to cultivate more land with less labor, and to get more food from each acre of land.

The Green Revolution was not unique, however. The aforementioned British Agricultural Revolution wrapped up in Malthus's lifetime. From a pure population dynamics standpoint, the Third Agricultural Revolution is just the Second all over again.

Part 3: Human Nature

Malthus assumes that human population growth is an immutable equation, a fact of biology that we have to live with. This is wrong! Population growth is the result of human behaviors, human choices. And humans can choose differently.

The world still has a significant surplus of food; common estimates say that we're producing enough food to feed about ten billion people. Yet population growth is slowing, especially in the Global North, where the surplus should be most meaningful.

The reasons for this are complicated, with a whole bunch of factors smashing together. Better access to birth control, later age of first marriage, the lower economic utility of children, the near-certainty that all your children will outlive you, et cetera. Rising costs of living which make it harder for young couples to provide for themselves, let along a third mouth. All of this influences the choices people make, which in turn influence our population growth.

Humans are not predictable animals. (Most animals aren't predictable animals either, but that's a topic for another post.) They aren't limited to instinctively responding to immediate stimuli, like bad guys in a stealth game.

Part of this failure can be chalked up to Malthus not anticipating how industrialized societies with the kinds of surpluses that he was starting to see would react to the new conditions created by surplus and industrialization. But his theory would be doomed without that.

The most complicated mathematical model for predicting human demographics is bound to fail. If it predicts a disaster in humanity's future, people will act to avoid it. Malthus predicted demographic disaster, so people acted to avoid it. Some did so by throwing their support behind eugenics movements, others by deciding to have fewer children or adopt. They were fighting an imaginary threat, but they were fighting it.

Part 4: The Point

The ideological heirs of Malthus are cynics who preach doom and gloom as an inevitable consequence of human nature. Conflict is inevitable, they say, because there are not enough resources to go around. That inevitable conflict is the cause of the world's ills; war, bigotry, poverty, political disenfranchisement, and so on and so forth. All inevitable consequences of inevitable conflict.

That ideology is bolstered by Malthusian logic. Malthus says that if there were a surplus of resources, humanity would simply grow to consume it. Humanity without war or poverty is a flock of sheep in a peaceful meadow, doomed to grow and overconsume its food source until the wolves of hardship come to cull the herd.

This belief bolsters their policies that accept or exacerbate the world's injustices, because they think such injustice is the cost of civilization.

And they are wrong! Literally, factually wrong.

Their argument is built on a foundation of sand. They think humanity is doomed to destroy anything that could make the world truly good, when humanity is not "doomed" to anything. It has reacted to nascent disasters in the past, from peasant revolts to ozone-depleting substances. Those reactions aren't always, like, good (a lot of ancient leaders dealt with peasant revolts by finding novel ways to hinder peasant resistance), but they weren't the result of inevitable unstoppable facets of human nature. They were choices made by individuals, making choices that would benefit them and their descendants (and sometimes humanity at large).

People can do that. We can make a better future. Don't believe people saying that's categorically impossible.

[huesofvioletandpurple]

A few days ago, the DRDT channel made public a “character song” playlist with sixteen songs inside (link). Naturally, considering this means that every character has a theme song of their own, I became Fucking Obsessed and tried matching each song to every character

Out of sixteen, I have exactly Four I am completely and absolutely confident in. That’s like, (checks notes), a quarter of the songs. I wish four was as neat of a number as three but unfortunately I do not get a choice in that regard. This would’ve been a quick post on which song I think matches with who + why but these guys made me recite an essay to myself as I paced around the room. So they deserve their own post <3.

Featuring: screenshots, hidden quotes (link) (required reading), and a shit ton of brainrot. explanations are below cut. tl;dr:

Rose is Cartoons

Charles is Asymptotic

Nico is Drawing Pins

Teruko is Good Grief

=

Rose Lacroix is Cartoons

[plain text: Rose Lacroix is Cartoons]

Track #4 is Cartoons by Louie Zong, and I have decided this is Rose’s track too. This is one many, many others have suspected as well. Starting it off with this first because it’s the simplest to explain: Rose is an artist, the lyrics are about art; or, at the very least, uses animation and drawing as metaphors.

Abstractions how I live my day to day, [...] Hard to explain, And to express, Forever just a work-in-progress.

The song in general uses drawing to explain feeling burnt out/not passionate about. Well. Your passions. Rose states herself that her work can only give her catharsis, considering none of it technically “hers” anymore.

[ID: Two screenshots of  Rose from chapter 2 episode 5. She is in the dressing room talking to Teruko, and has her hand on her neck as she looks downwards. Transcript: All I do is make paintings on other’s beck-and-call. It’s been so long that I don’t think I remember how to paint something original anymore. / There’s no value in the creations of someone who’s fallen so far from artistry. The only thing I can get out of art is catharsis. End ID]

Which is even more tragic, considering how she had huge ambitions as a child

[ID: One screenshot from the same episode. Rose now rests her chin in her fist. Transcript: I wanted to be a great painter when I was a kid, but things didn’t turn out that way. None of my original stuff ever sold well. End ID] 

There’s also these lyrics here

Can't hold a pencil or a thought. (Oh uh oh) Can't paint myself something I'm not.

Tryin' to make that ol' deadline, But all I've got are two dots and a line.

Rose knows she’s talented; in fact, I’d argue she’s one of the most secure about her talent than anyone in the class. She understands how useful it is in the killing game when paired with her photographic memory. In chapter 2, however, she hesitates, despite knowing this more than anyone.

[ID: Three screenshots of Rose from chapter 2 episode 8. She is sitting against a wall, knees drawn to her chest as she buries her face in her arms. Transcript of her dialogue: I don’t want to find out what kind of corpse Arei left. It’s easier for me to pretend nothing bad happened and forget about everything tomorrow. / That’s why I’m sitting here, wallowing in my own guilt, unable to do anything helpful. / You probably need me to draw a picture of a crime scene, like last time. That’s something only I can do that can help everyone. End ID]

She doesn’t want to use her talent that way—she can’t “paint herself something she’s not”, and she would “make the deadline”, but she can’t just will herself to simply Do Something when it’s draining and linked to her trauma from the previous case—and she’s more self conscious of it than anyone, that she only has “two dots and a line” —an upset face.

There’s also her hidden quote from the inspect elements of her character page: “In the end, all I can do is watch my wretched life go on.” I think it fits with the general theme of being incredibly discouraged and burnt out. “Forever a work in progress” indeed.

=

Charles Cuevas is Asymptotic

[pt: Charles Cuevas is Asymptotic]

I’ve chosen Asymptotic by (once more,) Louie Zong as Charles’ song. I could say it’s because of the mathsy theming and Charles is literally a fuckging chemist and leave it at that—I almost chose this as Min’s song because of how groovy and nerdy (affectionate) it was. I’m sorry to say it’s because of angst.

We’re aymptotic, Divided, by the smallest, slimmest line

Hey, so you know how Charles has an older brother ?

And you know how he didn’t know this until one of the motives told him ? So now there’s a good chance he won’t remember him fully for a long, long time ?

[you’re] Not imaginary. But it's complex! The limits are infinitely great

Charles now knows of this family member he has no recollection of. He most likely existed at some point—every other secret, though written to show the worst of the cast, are based on some sort of truth. I have a pet theory that his phobia of blood is connected to his brother, considering amnesia of a traumatic event is a common occurrence, and he doesn’t recall the origin of his haemophobia either, which opens up the possibility of them being linked. As long as he has this amnesia, any memory of his brother will always be far from his grasp.

As close as we could ever get, you'll be just out of reach

His hidden quote is about how it’s better to just forget; that means those events weren’t worth keeping.

if you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. none of those memories should ever be kept anyway.

In the context of the creator looking at the lyrics of the song and going “omg that’s blorbo from my brain”, the song refers to him as believing that he and his brother are asymptotes—lines that greatly resemble each other that will never reach, existing in different planes altogether.

=

Nico Hakobyan is Drawing Pins

[pt: Nico Hakobyan is Drawing Pins]

So.

Drawing Pins by Nothing but Thieves ! This song in particular fucking Stumped me. The lyrics are good, they slap, the Creator has fantastic taste in music; I just couldn’t figure out who the Hell it could be. Then, I had an epiphany.

This epiphany, by the way, is also probably one of my BIGGEST reaches. It completely redefines the song—even MORESO than how I treated asymptotic—and focuses hard on One aspect of Nico’s character.

(In my defense, it’s a really huge part.)

I don't feel like I belong Here at all

Tell me what you did it What you did it What you did it for 'Cause I can't figure it out

What do I have to do To be loved, loved by you

These are the lyrics in particular that made me go “wait a god damn Second”.

Firstly, not feeling like they belong.

[ID: Two screenshots of Nico from chapter 2 episode 6. They hold their arm and look nervously to the side in the first screenshot, then bury their face in the collar of their shirt in the next. Transcript: I thought you would laugh at me. I was worried you would pick up rocks and start throwing them at me or pick up clumps of mud and start throwing them at me. / I’m sorry, this never happens! Usually people call me abnormal or say that I’m just trying to be special, in a derogatory way. End ID]

Nico has been a frequent victim of bullying. Even though their current classmates are accepting, that just made them wary that something was off, because their past experiences stuck with them ! I feel like it should go unsaid that that, already on its own, is pretty fucking isolating !

[ID: a screenshot from the same episode. Nico is in the same pose. They say “And then they leave me out of everything and never talk to me again because there’s something wrong with me.” End ID]

So, self-explanatory line in the context of Nico. Cool. Cool. What am I seeing in the other lyrics, though ?

Tell me what you did it What you did it What you did it for 'Cause I can't figure it out

Okay, so. You know Nico’s hidden quote ? It’s “why should I own up for the mistakes someone else made?”, if you’re wondering.

There’s another reason they don’t feel like they belong.

There’s this running thread of Nico misunderstanding social cues, causing conflict and being scorned for it, but never being explained why those social cues exist, leading to them confused on why something so arbitrary is held to such importance. This causes this cycle that they’re just expected to escape, yet not being given the understanding or tools to do.

[ID: Three screenshots of Nico from the same episode. Nico looks down at their hands, then scratches their chin, then buries the bottom half of their face in their shirt. Transcript: If you’re having dinner and want someone to pass the salt, you can say, “Please pass the salt,”  or you can say “Give me the salt.” / One of those things is supposed to be more polite than the other, right? But why? They both meant the same thing. They’re just slightly different mixes of words. / It’s like that. I don’t understand why some mixes of words come off as ‘rude’ and some don’t, even if they mean tthe same thing. End ID]

I suspect the hidden quote is of Nico snapping, of not caring about being polite or nice anymore. They are already honest, which escalated their animosity with Ace, but this time they’re not caving if someone tells them that they’re being “too blunt” about it.

What do I have to do To be loved, loved by you

But it was never on purpose. They are not “blunt” or “brutally honest” to Ace or David whoever because they want to build that kind of reputation. I think these lyrics are suggesting a culmination of their arc, “What can I do to be loved ? Why should I apologise in place of the person who did hurt you ? Why am I constantly apologising for my existence ?

How do I win over people like you?”

I am fully aware that I may be reaching, but if you see the song as a representation of Nico’s rage and resentment that they had to “hold down by drawing pins”, you can at the very least see where I’m coming from.

=

Teruko is Good Grief

[pt: Teruko Tawaki is Good Grief]

Good Grief by Bastille, aka the last song on the playlist !

I’ve seen people say it’s a Whit song, or a Charles song, and I see it ! Death is very important in both of their arcs, and so is their way of mourning. However, I feel like it couldn’t be anyone but Teruko, and I also feel like there’s a very important part of her that people often forget.

[ID: Two screenshots from the episode 1 of the first chapter. They are lines of Teruko’s inner monologue. Transcript: His name, her face, it’s just barely out of reach. I claw and grasp through the dusty haze of my memories. / Choking on my nostalgia, I keep begging for you to come back. End ID]

[ID: A screenshot from chapter 1 episode 9 of Mai Akasaki turning around and smiling at the viewer. End ID]

Teruko mourns.

At the very least, she tries. She misses people. She grieves. That is what drives her distrust—she knows how much love hurts, and doesn’t want to feel that way.

[ID: A screenshot from chapter 2 episode 3. Teruko playing with succulents in her room as if they are dolls. One succulent has an eyepatch and knife, and the other has a knife and a sticky note, with a cowlick resembling Teruko’s. End ID]

Even in this silly moment of Teruko playing with cacti—it shows she didn’t WANT Xander to die ! She misses him. She wishes it could’ve gone better and blames herself for trusting—and notice how Xander in this scenario stands by her side.

Every minute and every hour I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

She “chokes on her nostalgia” when she thinks of two unnamed people, “begging them to come back”. Will she ever admit it? Fuck no are you kidding me she couldn’t be emotionally vulnerable to save her Life. But Teruko constantly loses and is never given time or space to mourn (That is what I meant when I said she tries), and it’s led her to bottling and hiding them to further isolate herself, to prevent her from losing the ones she loves again.

In my thoughts you're far away And you are whistling the melody, Whistling the melody Crystallising clear as day Oh I can picture you so easily, Picture you so easily

Again, the two people are “far away”, she’s half forgotten after all. But Mai Akasaki’s image is as clear as day. Her memories are one of the only traces of Mai we have at all.

I could repeat myself over and over with pretty much every lyric of this song in particular, so I suggest seeking it out and listening to it yourself. I cannot stress enough how much this song SCREAMS Teruko to me

=

Overall, I’m fully ready to be wrong. I do not have a great track record when predicting story arcs. However, I have thought about this for a very intense bit of time, so this is to work as a way to get my thoughts out there.

I have a few hunches, like Shun-Ran for David or Jotaro’s theme for Xander, but both are just hunches, and neither are as strong as the four above.

Anyways, have a great day ! holy shit this is over 1.7K words excluding the image descriptions.

[middleearthpixie]

Living Proof ~ Chapter Twenty

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen.  She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia 

Warnings: None

Rating: T 

Word Count: 2.5k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell @emrfangirl @emmanuellececchi

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Kaia tried to go back to sleep, but sleep mocked her. She knew Boromir would be surprised to learn he was to be a father, but she didn't expect the reaction he’d given. 

There was another woman in the room with her, but she had yet to regain consciousness, which was probably just as well. The last thing she’d wanted was an audience when she told Boromir their news. 

A baby. The last thing she expected Ioreth to tell her. The last thing she expected to have to tell Boromir. But once the shock wore off, she found herself happy. Her future, once so bleak and lonely, had been looking brighter. 

Sleep continued to mock her, so she slipped from the narrow infirmary bed, crouched to slip her sword and boots out from under said bed, then made her way from the House of Healing without anyone noticing her at all. She’d perfected the art of moving without a sound through the woods, so doing so in a stone corridor was the simplest of tasks.

It was a chilly, windswept night, but she barely felt the cold as she made her way down to the  city’s lowest tier and out through the Great Gate, when the guard had his back turned. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to clear her head and think and as long as she kept the White City in view, she didn't think she’d be in much danger. The only thing different about her now was that she was pregnant. She’d fought and defended herself just fine before knowing that, and saw no reason why she couldn't continue to do so now.

The soft rush of water drew her attention and she walked toward the sound, smiling as she came upon the Anduin River. The water had a way of soothing her most troubled thoughts and always had and so she moved along its bank until she came upon several large boulders with flat surfaces, perfect for sitting upon while one gaze out at the river’s sparkling surface. 

She carefully settled upon one of the boulders, knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped about them. Her thin cloak offered little in the way of warmth, but it wasn't too bad when the breeze died down. A hint of cold from the rock seeped into her, but again, she adapted. An occasional shiver, but she soon forgot the cold as she watched the water and wondered about her next move.

The cabin in the clearing was most likely still standing. She’d only been gone a few weeks. She could go back there and continue making repairs until it was suitable for her and a child. If the war was truly over and the orcs were no longer going to be a threat, she’d be fine there on her own. 

But, if they came back… then she’d have a problem. She had no doubt she could defend herself now, but what about six months from now, when she was round and waddling about? And what about labor? She had only played midwife once and it was a harrowing experience in which she assisted her mother in helping one of the field hands’ wives deliver her child. Kaia still shuddered at the memory for while it worked out in the end, she had not forgotten those hours when both mother and child nearly died. 

Her hand slid down over her lower stomach, which was silly, really, as of course there was nothing there to feel as yet. Still, she couldn't help it. It was almost a reflex. 

Part of her wasn't entirely certain Ioreth was right about her condition. It simply did not seem real to her and when she’d said as much to Ioreth, the healer laughed.

“Tell me,” Ioreth said, her voice low, “is it beyond the realm of the possible for you to be with child?”

Kaia hesitated, then slowly shook her head. “No. It isn’t. I was with—someone—but…”

“And were you intimate with this someone?”

She nodded this time. “I was, yes.”

That earned her a long look. “Kaia.”

She sighed. “Very well. I don't suppose I can argue with you, but…”

“Do you know where the father is?”

Her throat tightened at that. “I don't for certain, but my guess is that he was killed at Osgiliath.”

“I am sorry, dear. I did not know he was of Gondor.”

She nodded slowly. “He is, yes. Or, he was… I—I have no proof he was killed, but the man who returned with Faramir said there were no survivors, so—” Her throat seized on her, effectively silencing her.

“Worry not,” Ioreth assured her gently, an arm about her shoulders now. “You will be welcomed here regardless, and are welcome to remain here as long as you wish.”

The healer’s kindness struck a chord and without thinking, Kaia leaned her head against the woman’s shoulder. “I cannot possibly repay such kindness.”

“Nor will you have to. The child you carry is a son or daughter of Gondor. You need not worry about a home.”

She blinked back tears now. All she had wanted in that moment, was to tell Ioreth that the child she carried was Boromir’s heir, the heir to the stewardship of Gondor, but now she was thankful she hadn’t. She didn't know what would happen, should anyone else find out, had no idea what Gondor’s laws or customs were and she had no desire to find out now. 

No, it was best if she left come morning. She certainly did not have any desire to burden Boromir with the very things he did not want for himself. 

This was not how she saw this happening for her. Not once in her wildest imaginings did she see this happen. When she had children, she would be already married and to a man who was as excited about being a father as she was being a mother. 

It was not supposed to happen this way.

“There you are.”

She jumped as Boromir’s voice carried on the wind toward her and she twisted to see him making his way along the riverbank along the same path she’d taken. Hastily swiping at her cheeks, she said, “Why were you looking for me?”

He offered up a long, somber look. “You did not just ask me that. Why was I looking for you? Because, we need to talk, Kaia. That’s why.”

He came around the front of her boulder, but made no move to close the space between them.  The chilled wind ruffled through his hair as he looked up at her. “You should be indoors, where it’s warm. You’ll catch your death out here in this cold.”

“I’m fine,” she told him, even as hint of a chill bit into her backside and the backs of her legs and she had to fight off the urge to shiver to ward it off. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right. 

“Kaia.”

“I’m fine, really. And anyway, I am not your concern. Neither of us is, really.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“Why? You don't want this. You’ve said as much already.”

“No, what I’d said was they weren’t for me because I’d not found a woman I wanted to settle down with.”

“And now you have?” At his hesitation, she shook her head, her rising hopes sinking once more. “I didn't think so. So, really,” she climbed down from the boulder, brushing dirt from her backside as she stood and shook her head, “you needn’t worry about either one of us. I will leave come the morning and you can pretend this never even happened.”

“Pretend this—” Despite the darkness, there was no missing the glint of anger in his eyes. “Do you suggest I simply forget you carry my child? That I pretend you don’t, because if it is, you’re sorely mistaken, Kaia. Sorely mistaken, indeed.”

“Why? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I was surprised when you told me and can you fault me for that?”

“No,” she told him softly, shaking her head. “Of course not. I was just as surprised.”

“So, why is it so terrible that I was? I mean, it was foolish, of course, since I knew full well us being together could result in this, but here we are, with me feeling stupidly blindsided by this news just the same.”

The cold began biting with sharper teeth and she wrapped her arms about herself. “I was just as blindsided, Boromir. And I understand that you have your life and I have mine and neither of us thought this would happen. You are free from all responsibilities, then. I cannot walk away, but you can and you should if this is not what you want. I will ask for nothing from you.”

“Kaia.” He reached for the silver and jade leaf clasp holding his grayish-brownish-greenish cloak closed and unfastened it, then whisked the garment from his shoulders to settle about hers. His fingers lingered along the base of her throat as he fastened it about her. “It’s cold out there. Winter is coming. And you are not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not in the coming days.”

“There is no need for me to remain here.” Her heart faster as she gazed up at him. “I will not hold you to anything.”

“I do not run from my responsibilities.”

“You aren’t. I will leave—”

“Why are you so determined to push me away?” he growled softly. “I said I was surprised, Kaia. And I was—I am—but that doesn’t mean I’ll chew my paw off like an animal caught in a trap. And I will admit, this is not something I thought I would hear any time soon, but at the same time, I am not unhappy by this news, either.”

Her heart seemed to stop then. “What?”

“I’m not, Kaia.” He shook his head, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I love you, you know.”

Her lips trembled and her eyes stung and she swallowed hard as he grew blurry before her. “I love you, too,” she managed to whisper, her heart resuming its beating, but at treble its pace. “You left before I could say it back that morning, but I do.”

“I know and I knew it then, and do not think for a moment I want neither you nor this baby, Kaia, for nothing could be further from the truth.”

With that, he caught her by the hands, his fingers warm as they closed over hers. “I owe you an apology. You caught me by surprise, no doubt. Although, I don't know why I should be surprised. We took no precaution and instead threw all caution to the winds. 

“But, know this, I am not unhappy about it. Surprised? Yes. Stunned, even. But,” he released her hand to catch her beneath the chin with one finger and titled her face to his, “I am not unhappy, Kaia.”

Her heart sped up at the softness in his eyes and the huskiness in his voice. “Do not say what you think I wish to hear.”

“I’m not,” he told her, shaking his head, curving his hand against her cheek now. “I love you. I told you that before I left, remember?”

“I do, yes.” She pressed her lips together as her throat tightened. 

“And I do love you, Kaia.” He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes softer still, softer than his voice as he leaned in to capture her lips in an equally soft kiss, his mouth moving slowly against hers. 

Her fingers curled about his wrists as his lips parted and his tongue caressed hers, and when he drew back, she smiled, her heart soaring high above them both as she whispered, “I love you, too, Boromir.”

“And we are having a baby.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “So, I suppose the next step is for us to make this—to make us—official.”

“Boromir?” She pulled away, shaking her head. “You do not have to do that. You said yourself that wife and children were not for you and I will not demand you change that for a baby neither of us planned for or expected.”

“I know what I said,” he told her. “And I meant it at the time. But, the funny thing about death is that it makes you stop and take a good, hard look at your life. And when you’ve come close enough to that line, you realize that you get but one chance to get things right for the most part. I did not expect any of the things that have happened to me in the last year, Kaia. But of all of them, you are the one I’m most glad did happen and us having this baby just seems right to me. And I know I sound soft and foolish, but I don't care. I just—I don't care.”

“And am I suitable for the son of the steward?” She could barely make her voice go above a whisper. “Acceptable as his bride?”

“Ah, but the king has returned to Minas Tirith,” he replied softly, a hint of a smile on his lips, “and that means I really don't even know if I will be the steward in the coming days and it also means that I do not care if I will be such. It matters not to me any longer, especially if peace has finally come to Middle Earth.

“So,” he pulled back and with a hint of a grin, sank to one knee before her, “would you have a possibly unemployed former heir to the stewardship of Gondor as your husband, lady? Because if so, I will ask that you do me the honor of being my wife by asking if you will marry me, Kaia.”

She swallowed hard to drown out the sudden roar in her ears brought on by the rush of blood pulsing through her veins at his proposal. Without thinking, she laid her hand against his somewhat scruffy cheek, and let her thumb brush along his cheekbone as she murmured, “Possibly unemployed, you say? How will we support a baby, then?”

He grinned. “We will find a way. I happen to know the king.”

“Do you, now?”

“I do. I fought alongside of him in the depths of Moria, and at Amon Hen and you’ve not answered me, you know.”

“Oh, haven’t I?”

“No,” he shook his head, “you haven’t.”

“Are you certain this is what you wish, Boromir?”

“More certain than I’ve been about anything else, especially this last year. Are you going to make an injured man beg?” He brought one hand over to sweep his hair away from his forehead. “See? My blood has spilled more than once in the last few weeks.”

Her sense of teasing faded. “Do not remind me.”

“So, will you have me, Kaia?”

“I would be mad to say no, wouldn’t I?” 

“Kaia.”

“I will have you, of course. If you’re certain, since this was never anything you wanted.”

“I assure you, love, I am beyond certain. So, will you marry me?”

“I will.”

He smiled then, slowly rising before her, and then eased his arms about her waist to draw her in. Their lips met and Kaia realized she didn't feel the cold any longer.