#so i pretended the storms were only in game and then i was fine

[paucubarsisimp]

priority

pairing: pau cubarsi x reader

summary: in which you feel as if pau prioritises football more than you

warnings: angst

a/n: this was requested on my wattpad! also the pics don't match the story at all but oh well

it had been a quiet evening, but the kind that felt like a storm waiting to happen. you had been sitting on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours, trying to distract yourself with your phone, but you couldn’t ignore the clock ticking down. it was your anniversary—something that should have been important to both of you—but here you were, alone, waiting for pau.

he was always so consumed by football, and tonight, it felt like no different. you had planned everything—dinner, a bottle of wine, and the soft glow of candles around the room. you even slipped into the dress he’d always said looked great on you. it was supposed to be your night, but it seemed like you were invisible.

when pau finally came home, it wasn’t the excited greeting you were hoping for. he walked in, phone in hand, his face lit up by the screen. he didn’t even look at you when he entered.

“hey, babe,” he said, dropping his bag near the door. “sorry, i got caught up with the coach. he wants to change the lineup for the match next week.”

you stared at him, a lump forming in your throat. he was here, but he wasn’t really here. his attention was on his phone, his mind already on the next game, the next training session.

“pau,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “it’s our anniversary.”

he froze, his eyes finally lifting from the phone, but he still looked lost. confused. “shit, i… i didn’t even realize. i’m sorry, cariño. i’ve just been so caught up with everything.”

you could feel the anger building, the hurt turning into something you couldn’t control. how could he forget? how could he not notice? you felt your chest tighten as the words escaped before you could stop them.

“you forgot?” you repeated, your voice louder now. “it’s our anniversary, pau. how could you forget that? how could football come before us?”

he blinked at you, looking genuinely taken aback. he stepped closer, trying to explain, but the frustration in your chest only grew. you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“it’s always about football with you,” you continued, your voice rising, filled with hurt. “the team, the next match, the next training session. and i’m just here. waiting. i don’t matter to you, pau. not like they do. and i’m so tired of pretending like it’s okay.”

his expression softened, guilt flashing across his face as he opened his mouth to speak again. but you weren’t ready to hear it��not this time.

“you always say it’s not like that,” you said, your words sharp. “you always promise to do better, to be there for me, but then nothing changes. you don’t prioritize me. and i don’t know how much longer i can keep pretending that i’m fine when i feel like i’m invisible.”

he stepped forward, reaching out for you, but you pulled back, shaking your head. your eyes were filling with tears, and you couldn’t stop them now. the words were slipping out before you could stop them, and the weight of it all was too much to carry anymore.

“i need you to leave,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “just… go. i need space. i can’t do this right now.”

you felt your heart break as the words left your mouth, but they were the only words that felt right. you couldn’t keep doing this, pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

pau’s face crumpled, his eyes filled with regret, but he didn’t argue. he didn’t fight you. he just nodded slowly, turning to leave the room. his shoulders were hunched, as if the weight of everything was sinking in. the door clicked shut behind him, and you were alone.

the silence in the room was suffocating. you collapsed onto the bed, your body shaking as sobs broke free from your chest. you buried your face in the pillow, the tears coming faster now. it wasn’t just the anniversary. it wasn’t just the hurt from tonight. it was everything—every time you had tried to reach out, only to be left standing in the shadows while his career took over.

outside the bedroom door, pau stood still, his ear pressed against the wood, hearing the soft sobs you couldn’t hold back. guilt twisted in his stomach. he wanted to rush in and hold you, tell you how sorry he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock. what could he say? i didn’t mean it?

he sat down on the floor, back against the door, his hands in his lap. he could still hear you crying, and each sob felt like a dagger to his heart. he had messed up—big time. he had let football become everything, and in doing so, he had hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

he stayed there for what felt like forever, just listening to you cry through the door. the silence in the apartment felt heavier than it had before. when it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up and walked slowly back to the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob. he wasn’t sure if you would even want to see him.

but then, just as he was about to knock, the door creaked open. you stood there, your eyes red and puffy, your face a mix of pain and love. you looked up at him, and without a word, you threw yourself into his arms.

“i’m so sorry, pau,” you whispered, your voice broken. “i love you so much. i didn’t mean to push you away, but i… i need you. i can’t do this alone anymore. i’m scared.”

pau held you tightly, his own tears falling now, mixing with yours. he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. “i’m sorry, mi vida. i’ve been an idiot. i’ll do better. i swear. i’ll never let you feel like this again.”

you clung to him, still sobbing, but the relief of his presence was enough to ease the ache, even if just for a moment.

“no more fighting, okay?” you said, your voice trembling, but full of hope. “we’ll fix this. together.”

“together,” he whispered, holding you closer. “i promise.”

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted lmk if you want to be added!

[lonesome-pear]

So I saw a video about the epic of Gilgamesh, saying that it contains the phrase in those distant days. Well, I thought that could be a good theme for a poem so I decided to write one. I turned on some Minecraft music (not sure why but it ended up working out) and got writing. It ended up being about missing the past. I kind of wanted to share it so here it is

In those days, those distant days

I would sit there for hours, placing things in new ways

Stuck in a creative haze, in those distant days

In those distant days, I would be with friends

People I loved, people I no longer know

Sitting in the basement, by a warm fire glow

In those distant days, I would find a new thing

Something that was little, but also somehow big

A planet of sorts, where it seemed like I had wings

Flying through the memories of those distant days

In those distant days, I had childlike wonder

Before all I knew was torn asunder

Little me, scared of thunder, was comforted in the moments of those distant days

How I miss those distant days, where there was joy and whimsy

A time where memories made were of good quality

But I cant go back to those distant days

I must relive them in different ways

Find whimsy with new people, in new places

Find joy in new games, with new faces

But I will enjoy this days now

The present can be pleasant anyhow

But even when it's not, I keep going somehow

Those distant days are far away

But I carry on, I find a way

Because I might be looking towards them, those distant days

[repulsiveliquidation]

Did I Cross The Line? || Alexia Putellas

warnings : angst. i am not entirely happy with it but if I kept editing, it would only become worse lol. Loosely inspired by the meaning of ‘Wildflower’ by Billie Eilish.

summary : There were two people to love. Alexia could only have one.

You started off as best friends. Two peas in a pod. One never without the other. You and Alexia were never seen apart from each other. Her mother was like your mother, and vice versa. Both families were like one big one all because Alexia decided she wanted to be friends with you at 4 years old and she kicked a football at you in kindergarten. 

You cried, of course, and she got so scared when the teacher scolded her and called her mother to school for it. She sheepishly apologized and when you accepted it, she kissed your cheek where the ball smacked you. 

“Mami always kisses my booboos so they feel better faster!” 

“Really? My mami does too…” 

A football to the face was the price you paid for a girl whom you would give your life for. 

That was until Jenni came along. 

Alexia looked at her differently. It was new. She’d never been this happy in a relationship before and you could not have been happier for your best friend. 

Alexia was someone who loved her friends. She wasn’t shy to show her affection and to boldly display her feelings. You were more reserved and outwardly didn’t like it when she was being touchy. 

Deep down though, her touch brought calm to your storm. You were always anxious before games and Alexia knew this; she made sure to stand beside you and hold your hand to squeeze three times before you left the tunnel. 

Today, Alexia stood beside you in the tunnel, chatting away to Jenni who was only half listening. Your hands shook with adrenaline and fear, palms itching to reach for Alexia’s hand to calm you down. 

The kind of friend she was to you showed itself in times like these. She could feel the fear radiating off you and without even looking back at you, her hand reaches for yours and you feel your body relax and react to the heat from her palm. 

“You okay? You look pale,” she whispers, looking concerned at you. You look up at her slightly taller figure and nod, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Fine, just nervous for the big game,” you lie, hoping she didn’t see the slight bit of jealousy that creeped into your head. 

“You’ll be fine, hermana, we’ll win this.” 

You nod again, feeling sweat on your brow. She squeezes your hand three times and faces forwards, walking out while you follow. The game went smoothly and you sailed to a 3-0 win easy peasy. 

At training a few days later, you arrive at the changing room a little energized only to be met with screaming. 

You stood at the door and listened carefully, not wanting to interrupt anyone when you recognized the voice yelling her head off. 

Alexia was yelling. 

“She’s my best fucking friend, how could you make me choose?!” 

“Well, she’s all you talk about! If I wanted to know her, I would have wanted to date her instead of you!” 

“You’re not good enough for her!” 

“I’m not good enough?” Jenni laughs, “You’re the one who got rejected when told her I love you while piss fucking drunk! May I add that we were already dating at that point; I knew you loved her and not me!”

”How dare you?!” 

You hear bags being zipped and boots clamoring all over the changing room. Alexia storms out of the room and you back away from the door just in time. She doesn’t even see you standing there pretending you didn’t hear them, seeing Jenni try to run after. She, unlike Alexia, notices you standing there looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Speak of the devil,” Jenni quips mockingly, “you were listening weren’t you?” 

“You didn’t make it hard not to,” you say as you roll your eyes, pushing past Jenni to put your kit bag in your cubby and run after Alexia. 

“Ale!” You call, running through the stadium looking for your best friend. She’s sobbing in her car, crying more when you knock on the passenger window gently. The doors unlock and you quietly climb in. 

“You heard.” 

“I didn’t get there in time to hear all of it, no.”  

“Jenni’s leaving,” Alexia takes a deep breath to stop herself from crying before she continues, “and she’s asked me to come with her.” 

“Why did you say no?” 

The tears start to flow again and she cries harder, now unable to catch her breath. She grabs the steering wheel and still can’t breathe so you take her hands in yours and hope she calms like you do. 

Her panic attack exhausts her and she’s in no condition to drive. A quick text to the group chat and you’ve got both your bags in her car and are on the way to her house. She’s passed out in the passenger seat and snoring a little, still holding your hand in the center console. 

Your hand holding hers feels familiar and comfortable. You’re sure she’s passed out and can’t really feel anything but unbeknownst to you, she was quite aware of her surroundings and knew she was close to home. 

Close to you. 

You really don’t want to wake her but you’ve pulled into her driveway and can hear dogs barking so you tap on her shoulder gently. You’re tempted to kiss the back of her hand but you refrain from it, feeling the restraint tug at your heart. 

She rouses and smiles softly at you, eyes puffy and nose red. She shuffles into the house with you right behind her. 

You make yourself at home, brewing two cups of tea. It fills the house with a lovely smell of jasmine, which eases your anxiety. She takes a mug from you, eyes filling with fresh tears. Her body shakes with fear, brain in overdrive. 

She was always open with you. But this time, her lips stayed sealed. It broke your heart. 

“Alexia, talk to me,” you whisper, eyes searching for hers. She doesn’t look at you, teary eyes instead glued to the floor. 

She sips the tea and it burns her tongue, the sudden rush of pain makes the tears she was fighting with win. They stain her cheeks and reveal her true feelings. 

She loved you. 

And she has for longer than she cares to admit. 

Dating Jenni was just an attempt at denying her feelings. She loved you. But she loved Jenni too. 

It was like she was having an out of body experience. She was sitting right in front of you and she had never seen like you she did right this second. But she knew now that she did in fact see you this way. 

She looked at you differently from Jenni. She took care of you differently from Jenni. She saw you differently from Jenni. She may have loved both of you, but there was a clear difference. 

She did those things differently because she loved you differently. 

She didn’t know you felt the same. You loved Alexia too. Boy did your heart break when they first got together. You wanted to break things she got you. You couldn’t wear her clothes you had in your closet anymore. You pulled away when all you wanted to do was crawl into her skin. 

You had to lie that day at the bar. You had to break her heart. She loved someone else didn’t she? You couldn’t let her be hung up on someone like you when she had someone like Jenni begging for her attention. 

She was La Reina. Two time Ballon d’Or winner. Queen of FC Barcelona. 

You were just…you. 

“I love you!” Alexia yells; fresh hot tears stream down her face. She looked like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. There was a clear release of tension in the room and it was magical.

When her lips touched yours, there were feelings shared that could be left unsaid. Feelings only the two of you needed to know. She loved Jenni, and there was a conversation to be had tomorrow but for today, she had all that she needed to make it through the night. And quite possibly the rest of her life. 

Alexia pulled you into her lap, hands resting on your waist in a deathly grip, clearly afraid you’d just disappear into thin air. 

“I love you too,” you whispered against her lips, feeling her perfect smile adorn her face again. 

As Alexia held you in her arms the rest of the night, you realized something. You were not just…you. 

You were the girl who took a ball to the face like a champ, though it left your cheek bruised for days, all because a 4 year old was too shy to say hello. 

You were the girl who fought a boy twice your size when he tackled Alexia dangerously. 

You were the girl who walked in and out of her house like it was your own. 

You were the girl so scared of walking out onto the pitch you needed your best friend to hold your hand. 

You were the girl Alexia, from the moment she laid her eyes on you at the kindergarten playground, wanted to be friends with her entire life. 

You were wanted, needed and cherished by your best friend. But there was more, so much more left for you to uncover. 

Was the next step in your relationship a line you wanted to cross? 

“Alexia?” you asked, looking back at her. She was smiling and you felt your heart melt. But you remained steadfast. 

“Sí?”

“What are you going to say to Jenni?” 

Alexia’s smile dropped, her arms around you slacked and her face turned into fear. 

What was she going to say to Jenni? She was going to break her heart for sure but what would be the right words? Were there the right words to tell your girlfriend you loved someone else and you were only with her because you were in denial? 

The night dragged on that day, on one hand you were over the moon to have Alexia to yourself but you felt bad for Jenni who was also a close friend, knowing she was in for a day she would want over as fast as possible tomorrow. 

“Jenni, just listen to me, please!” 

“There’s nothing to listen to, you’re in love with her and not me. Moving away was a good idea, that way I won’t be a constant reminder of a barrier in your relationship,” Jenni says calmly, standing right in front of the door outside the changing room. She turns, a pained smile on her face. 

“You two deserve each other. Please don’t break her heart like you did mine.” 

Alexia asked you to wait outside and you did, trying your best not to eavesdrop like before. Jenni walks out and you can see how hard she’s trying not to cry. She sees you and sits beside you, an awkward silence in the air. There was a war going on inside you, one that made your anxiety skyrocket. You were shaking, sweat building up on your brow. You tried to hold your own hand to no avail. It was nothing like Alexia’s palm in yours. 

Jenni takes your sweaty palm and rubs the back with her other. 

“Please don’t feel like this is your fault,” she starts, looking at your hand in hers. “We were having problems from the start. She has always loved you in a way that was reserved only for you.” 

You look at her and tears of your own begin to prickle. You felt bad for her; you should be comforting her since she was the one affected by all this and yet here she was comforting you. 

“Jenni…” 

“No, please. She loved me,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “but she loved you more. More than anything in this world. She told me she was terrified of losing you when we got together. She was always your girl. She was never mine to love.” 

Jenni stands, leaving your hand in your lap and using hers to wipe her tears. 

“She always wished I was you," Jenni says, taking a deep breath, "now she’s got her wish. I just hope she doesn't regret it.”

[specialgumsock]

//Random romantic things you guys do/he does! with the stardew valley bachelors// :-)

(Apologies again for bad writing, not proof read… T-T also FYI my asks are open)

Characters: all of the bachelors from stardew valley

Tw: mentions of Shane being hungover and drunk. Mentions of being freaky idk

Alex would buy you flowers a lot.

He misses you? Flowers. You’re mad at him? Flowers. He would go and get you flowers for no occasion, just to bring you flowers. Probably something his grandfather told him to do when he was younger, since his grandma likes flowers as well.

The first time you got flowers from him you remember like it was yesterday-

"What are these for?" You say, grabbing the bouquet from the out of breath, and almost disheveled looking man on your door step. He only smiled up at you and answered. "No reason, I just love you…"

Yeah, you were giddy the entire day while tending to your crops.

You and Sam are in a constant competitive flirting competition.

You two try to out-flirt each other with over the top, and bad pick up lines… Even in serious situations.

It was another rowdy Friday night at the saloon, on the couch you sat on Sam’s lap while Abigail and Sebastian played darts.

"You know-" Sam begins, putting his joja cola down for a moment before continuing. "If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber." You nearly choke on your drink and wince at the awful line.

"Oh, wow. That’s terrible. But not as terrible as how much you’re gonna blush when I say-" You lean in close, your voice going into a whisper. "Are you French? Because Eiffel for you…"

Sam groaned, then a smirk grew onto his lips. "Weak."

"You want strong? Alright, watch this." You say, noticing poor Emily walk over to grab some of the empty glasses left behind by previous patrons. "Excuse me! Can I get a to go cup? Because my boyfriend is too intoxicating to leave behind." You say, the VERY awful line making even you cringe.

Emily just sighed, looking done with life, and walked away. Sebastian and Abigail already having tuned you two out.

Sam shook his head. "Truce.. only because I don’t want to be banned from the saloon for a month again."

Sebastian let’s you win when it comes to games- any game.

You’re a sore loser who sometimes storms off in frustration, and he couldn’t care less. To him, it’s about seeing you happy, not about the victory. Growing up with a little sister, he’s pretty used to letting someone else win, especially if it means keeping the peace or just seeing that excited grin on your face.

He’ll always pretend to be super serious when you win, giving a defeated- "You’ve beat me, my mighty opponent!" and might even offer an overly dramatic bow, but deep down, it’s a running joke between the two of you. He’s fine with it. It’s not about pride, and honestly, he likes seeing your excitement when you win, even if it’s clear that he’s playing the long game and letting you win.

If you throw a little fit after losing-huffing, pouting, and trying to find an excuse, he’ll just laugh and say something like "Don’t worry, I’m sure the next one will be your win…" all while giving you a teasing smile. He just loves the playful energy and the way you light up when you finally get a win under your belt. And after all, he’s just happy to be there with you.

Shane has this thing he does called "hear me out" meals.

He spends a lot of his time drunk or hungover, so he’s definitely made a lot of… interesting meals.

These meals come from him when he’s in one of those moods from being hungover or tipsy and he gets a burst of "inspiration"

Like the time he made you try "pasta surprise" which consisted of spaghetti noodles and random ingredients he found in the pantry… A bad day for peanut butter and gravy.

But there are more bearable ones like "Breakfast Pizza" Eggs, sausage, bacon and whatever leftovers he has in the fridge.

"Breakfast of the future…" Shane said under his breath, placing the "pizza" down at the table in front of you. You rub your tired eyes, and look at the meal. "Wow… this was certainly a choice."

Elliot leaves you notes, like little love letters.

You find them everywhere, your pockets, on the fridge and even on your pillow. He can’t help it, he just wants to let you know how much you cross his mind.

One day you remember you needed to grab something from Pierre’s shop, pulling on your coat for the chilly fall weather. A little note falls you and you pick up, confusion written all across your face.

"To my Dearest, Lover- Thinking of you, as always. I hope your day is as lovely as the sea breeze, Yours truly, Elliot<3"

You feel your face heat up, and your heart starts beating faster. "Man I’m so lucky" you think as you can’t help but smile. It’s crazy how little things like this get you flustered, but, MAN, do you love him.

Harvey loves to play doctor, and not in a freaky way. (He would if you REALLY wanted though.. wink wink.)

Whenever you get the smallest scratch or feel even slightly under the weather, he goes full doctor mode. He insists on checking your pulse, listening to your heartbeat and even wrapping your finger in an unnecessary amount of bandages.

"Just… to be safe" He says, just as he put a second bandaid onto your finger that you cut while chopping your garden fresh vegetables. You can’t help but to giggle and tease him, thinking about his face stone cold serious, brows furrowed like he was preforming life saving surgery, when in reality he was just doing something as simple as putting a bandage on your finger. "Okay, Doctor Harvey~" Your words playful as he blushed and stammered a bit.

"J- *Ahem* Just making sure you’re okay… now get some rest, Doctors orders." You laugh, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Of course."

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-three: Beneath the Mask

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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The evening was heavy with silence, the kind that fills a room like a storm waiting to break. You sat across from In-ho, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your glass, watching him as he worked through papers at his desk. There was a subtle tension in the air, one that neither of you had addressed but both could feel. It wasn’t the same distance as before—no, this time it was more like an unspoken wall between you. You could feel his eyes on you, every now and then, like he was trying to decipher something about you.

But even as he remained immersed in his work, there was an unsettling vulnerability to him, an unspoken weight hanging over his usually stoic expression. You knew he was lost in his thoughts. There were still cracks in his armor, though he tried so hard to keep them hidden. You couldn’t help but feel the urge to bridge the gap between you—to understand what he wasn’t saying, what he was keeping from you.

The hours had drifted by, the soft hum of the quiet night only broken by the sound of his pen tapping against paper. But you couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach any longer. The connection between you, however fragile, needed to be addressed. You had no idea what this was—this pull you felt towards him, this subtle but undeniable thread of something more. But one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep pretending that things were fine when the tension between you both only deepened.

“In-ho,” you said, your voice breaking the stillness. It felt strange saying his name, but it also felt like the first step toward something more. You didn’t wait for him to acknowledge you before continuing. “I need to ask you something.”

His pen paused mid-tap, and he finally looked up, his gaze flicking to yours with a cool indifference, but there was a softness there now—something hidden beneath the hard mask. He didn’t speak, just gave you a subtle nod, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been pulling away,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I don’t understand why.” Your voice wavered, but you couldn’t stop yourself now. “What’s going on, In-ho? I feel like there’s more to you than what you’re letting on. You’re holding something back. And I… I need to know why.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning cold again, as though your question had triggered something within him. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he folded his arms across his chest, his eyes now fixed on some distant point beyond you. The silence stretched between you both, thick and suffocating. You felt exposed in a way, unsure if you had crossed a line you weren’t meant to cross.

“You don’t want to know,” he finally said, his voice low, his tone flat. “Trust me.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, a chill running through you as the walls around him seemed to rise higher. But you weren’t going to back down. Not this time.

“I think I do want to know,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “I’m not asking to pry, but if we’re going to keep pretending like nothing is going on, then I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. I can feel it, In-ho. The distance between us.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes—a flash of pain, fleeting but unmistakable. It was enough to make your heart race, even as he closed himself off again.

“Let it go,” he said, his voice sharp now, a command. “You’re better off not knowing. I told you before… this isn’t the life for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it’ll be for you.”

But something inside you pushed back against that notion. You weren’t ready to let him shut you out—not when you could feel the depth of his emotions beneath that cold, calculated exterior. He was trying to protect you, but it wasn’t just that. You knew it. He was afraid. Afraid of losing someone else. Afraid of loving again.

“I’m not afraid of the truth, In-ho,” you said softly, standing up from your seat, closing the distance between you. Your gaze locked with his, and this time, you didn’t flinch. “You don’t have to protect me from it. I want to understand, even if it scares me.”

He looked at you then—really looked at you. His eyes searched your face as though trying to gauge whether you meant it, whether you were truly prepared for whatever he was about to say.

For a long moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the weight of his past pressing down on both of you. Then, In-ho stood up slowly, his movements careful, like a man preparing to reveal something dangerous.

“You think you want to know,” he began, his voice quieter now, as though he was telling himself more than you. “But the truth is… I lost everything once. My wife, my unborn child. I thought I had a future. A life. And then it was all ripped away in the span of a few months.” His voice cracked ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it, turning his back to you, walking toward the window. “It broke me. And now… now I don’t know how to love anyone anymore. Not like that. Not after everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the confession more vulnerable than you ever expected to hear from him. The realization that In-ho, the frontman, the powerful man who seemed to control everything, had been shattered by a loss so profound made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You wanted to reach out to him, but something told you he wasn’t ready to be held.

He shook his head, the darkness of the night outside reflected in the coldness of his eyes. “It’s not your problem,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet bitterness. “I can’t let anyone in again. You wouldn’t understand. You’re not part of this world. And I can’t—”

“You’re wrong,” you interrupted him softly, your voice trembling but determined. “I’m already here. I’m already a part of it. And I’m not leaving, In-ho. Not because of this.”

For a second, you thought he might say something more, but instead, he exhaled sharply and turned away from you, his jaw clenched tight.

“You should go,” he said, his voice thick with finality. “I have things to handle tonight.”

You didn’t say anything else. You simply nodded, heart heavy, as you turned to leave. But as you reached the door, you glanced back at him. There was something different in the way he stood—something that hadn’t been there before.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” you said quietly, then walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

In-ho didn’t follow. He didn’t say anything more. But you knew, deep down, that something had shifted. Whether it was a step forward or a step back, you weren’t sure. But you could feel it—the quiet promise that things between you had just begun to unravel, for better or worse.

———————

Chapter twenty-three!! Wooow let’s goo! More progress?? As always lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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[waitsobs]

THE LONG GAME ⋆˚࿔ chapter thirty!

When popular actress y/n l/n's private account gets exposed, it is revealed that she has a crush on one of the girls from the girl group katseye. y//n tries to de-escalate the situation, but makes it worse, and loses her chance with the girl. The only way she think of winning the girl over is by playing the long game. 

BEDROOM CONFESSIONS

When y/n walked into her room, she froze, her breath hitching in her throat as her heart skipped a beat. She had expected it to be one of her friends, but instead sitting on her bed was a girl with fiery ginger hair.

“Megan?” y/n questioned, confusion seeping through her words as her eyes widened. “What... what are you doing here?” Her chest tightened, as a rush of old feelings flooded her all at once. 

“I texted you, asking if we could talk,” Megan replied, her voice quiet but steady. “You didn’t respond, so… this was the second best option.” A small, almost sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 

“Yeah, I was hanging out with Minji. Sorry,” y/n muttered, her words feeling emptier than she intended as she quickly shut the door behind her, a wall of silence falling between them. 

She could feel Megan’s presence like a weight in the room as she made her way to her bed, every step heavier than the last. As she glanced she swears she saw Megan's expression falter for a single second as she sat on the bed, assuring there was a few inches between them.

“I saw,” Megan said, her voice flat, like she was trying to act nonchalant about the mention of Minji, though y/n could feel the tension in the air between them. She cleared her throat, her eyes drifting away for a moment as if gathering courage, before speaking again. “I came here to apologize… for everything. For blocking you, for ghosting you… I’m sorry.”

y/n cut her off before she could say more. “Megan, I already told you, I’m over the whole blocking thing. It’s fine.” But even as the words left her mouth, a heavy bitterness coated them, like she was trying to convince herself more than Megan.

“It’s not fine,” Megan replied, her voice breaking just slightly. She looked at y/n, eyes glistening with something that almost looked like regret. “Everything’s not fine. We haven’t talked in six months, and those were the worst months of my life without you.”

Megan’s words hung in the air, heavy and raw, pulling at y/n’s chest in ways she couldn’t explain. 

“And with the whole blocking thing…” Megan began, her voice trembling with the weight of what she wanted to say, but she was immediately cut off by y/n.

“Megan, you really do—” y/n started, her words sharp, but once again, she was interrupted.

“y/n, please, just let me finish,” Megan pleaded, her voice cracking on the last word. y/n hesitated, nodding in silence, her eyes unreadable but her heart pounding, waiting for Megan to speak.

Megan took a shaky breath before continuing, her words coming out slower, like she was afraid to say them, afraid of how they might sound. “I blocked you the first time because I was genuinely upset. You were pretending like you didn’t even know who I was.” Her eyes flickered up y/n’s. “And then the second time I actually don’t know why I did but now I’m wishing I didn’t.”

y/n didn’t know how to respond. She was frozen, She felt like she was caught in a storm of emotions she wasn’t ready to face. The silence between them thickened, each second stretching on like an eternity, neither of them moving or speaking.

y/n broke the silence, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Megan, I have something to tell you.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at her— everything felt too real. Instead, she turned her gaze away and took a shaky breath. “That private account… was mine.” The words felt like they had weight, a thousand emotions tied to them. “Everything that got leaked… it was me.”

When y/n finally dared to look at Megan, she was met with wide, searching eyes, with an emotion behind them that made her want to look away again.

“What?” Megan’s voice cracked, her expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “Is that why you lied about not knowing who I am?”

“Yeah. When everything came out… I was scared. It all blew up so fast, and it was the only thing I could think of. I didn’t mean for it to go the way it did.” Her voice wavered.

Megan didn’t let her get any further. Her words were laced with something raw, desperate. “Is everything you said about me true?” she asked, her gaze piercing into y/n’s soul. “About you liking me?”

y/n’s chest tightened, the confession that had been lurking in the back of her mind now spilling out faster than she could control, but now that it was out in the open, there was no turning back.

“Yeah,” y/n breathed out, the words heavy on her tongue. “It was true.”

“Was?” Megan’s voice cracked with the weight of the question, her eyes searching y/n’s face for some kind of answer. “Meaning you don’t like me anymore?”

“Megan, I don’t know,” she said, her voice almost breaking. “It’s complicated. Between the blocking and us making up, and then you blocking me again, and us not speaking for four months... and then six months of silence... which, yeah, was my fault too... it got confusing.

Megan agreed, her voice quiet. “Yeah, I see how that’s confusing, and I don’t blame you. I was playing around with you and your emotions, and I’m sorry.”

Y/n let out a heavy sigh, trying to push down the knot in her chest. “Okay, you’ve got to stop apologizing now. I forgive you.” A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips, but it was enough to let Megan know things were starting to between them were okay.

Megan hesitated, her eyes still searching y/n’s face. “So… are we good now?”

y/n nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Megan's shoulders visibly relaxed, a breath she’d been holding for what felt like forever finally leaving her. “Okay, well then I guess I’ll go then,” she said, rising from the bed, but her movements were slower now.

Y/n quickly tugged on Megan’s shirt, pulling her back down. “Wait a minute,” she said, her voice a little more playful this time. She couldn’t help herself. “You wanna stay a while and watch D.E.B.S.?”

Megan’s face lit up at the suggestion, her smile spreading wider. “You really know me,” she said, laughing lightly.

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment, finally free from the tension. It felt like they were starting over, in a good way, and y/n found herself laughing a little, the weight in her chest lifting with each passing second. They were going to be okay. (Maybe)

masterlist ⭑.ᐟ next

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[azzifudd]

i don't wanna see you with anyone but me

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed.

rated: teen

3.0k words

disclaimer: as always, this is fictional

[AO3 Link]

Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed. It’s already been a bad morning. Early morning games are always tough on the team, and they’d gotten to the hotel late last night because of an expected traffic jam, leading to even less sleep.

And now, instead of helping her warm up and hyping her up like she normally is, Paige is at the opposite end of the court giggling with some girl on the other team.

They only have a few weeks left together before Paige has to go home, and instead of being with Azzi, she’s off flirting with someone else.

Azzi takes another shot, grunting when it bounces off the rim. The ref finally blows his whistle, signaling the teams to line up for tip off. Paige starts to walk back toward their side of the court, but not before that girl says goodbye with a hand pressed to Paige’s arm.

Azzi’s petty enough that she pretends she doesn’t see Paige’s offered high five before she runs onto the court.

Azzi plays like a woman possessed. By the time the final buzzer sounds, they’re up 25 points after her efficient 33.

“Okay, killa!” When Paige bounds up to her, bumping into her with her chest and trying to wrap her arms around her, she shrugs her off.

“Why don’t you go comfort your new friend?” Azzi heads to the bench to take a much needed drink of water. Paige trails close behind her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her.” Azzi flicks her head in the girl’s direction. Azzi has to admit she’s pretty; with dark skin, dark hair, and big brown eyes. She’d probably enjoyed it a little too much when her crossover had landed the girl on her ass, but like she’s said, she’s petty.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know her.” Paige looks dumbfounded.

“You seemed to know her well enough that you spent all of pregame talking to her instead of helping me warm up.” She tries to keep her voice low, knowing that their voices would echo easily in the gym no matter how loud the other games were.

“She said she was a fan! I was just being nice!” Paige crowds into her space, voice defensive.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

“Azzi, come on, you’re being crazy.”

Azzi sees red, elbowing Paige in the stomach, pushing her lanky body out of the way easily. “Get away from me.”

“Fine!” Paige throws up her hands. “Come find me when you’re done being crazy.”

The rest of the day drags as they have to take the long drive home together in the car with Azzi’s family. Her parents clearly want nothing to do with their drama, ignoring the two ticking time bombs in the backseat.

When they finally make it back to the house, Azzi storms inside, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“So… what happened, big dawg?” Tim asks Paige as she helps him unload their bags from the car.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Paige huffs, frustrated.

“I didn’t say you did.” He replies, patient.

Paige hesitates, suddenly feeling awkward about talking about this with her what are they? her girl? her Azzi’s dad, but he stops her before she has to.

“You don’t have to tell me the details, but give her some time to cool down, and then just talk to her. You know how she can be, I mean both of you are stubborn as hell, but when has she ever stayed mad at you for long?

That’s true. It’s one of the things that Paige likes the most about Azzi, that no matter how annoying Paige is being, Azzi still wants her around.

When they’re done unpacking, Paige goes to find Azzi. She stops in the kitchen to grab some reinforcements. When she gets to Azzi’s door, she hesitates. She’s never had to knock before. But before she even needs to, it opens.

She and Azzi stare at each other for a moment before they’re both blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

Then they’re both giggling and Azzi pulls Paige into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“I brought this, in case you were still mad at me.” Paige holds up a cartoon of ice cream and a spoon.

“Only one spoon?”

“In case you were still mad at me,” Paige repeats. Azzi laughs and tugs Paige over to sit on the bed, where they take turns eating bites of the ice cream.

“I’m sorry I called you crazy.” Paige says, wincing as she remembers it. “I shoulda seen how upset you were.”

“And I’m sorry that I overreacted when I saw you talking to someone else.” Azzi twists her fingers together. “I just got so mad when I saw you talking to her. And I know how popular you are, and you deserve every bit of it, but…”

Paige just waits because she knows Azzi needs to talk it out herself, and that she just needs Paige to listen.

“I know it’s selfish, but part of me just wants to keep you to myself. Because as soon as everyone finds out about you, they’re gonna want you.” Azzi glances at Paige then, almost certain she’ll see a cocky grin on her face, but Paige just listens.

Paige gets it. Sometimes someone can just look at Azzi for a second too long and it makes her want to just take Azzi and hide her away. But she can’t, so she just reaches out to hold Azzi’s hand.

There are so many things she wishes she could say to Azzi, things that she can barely stand to consider because they scare the shit out of her.

So she just settles for saying the one thing she knows to be true.

“I’m yours.”

Paige watches Azzi blush, stunned and speechless.

“Can I kiss you now? Lowkey it was so hot how jealous you got.” Paige laughs when Azzi pushes her with a hand to her face.

But then that same hand is gripping at her collar and pulling her on top of Azzi and then there’s no more talking.

//

It’s a Friday night, and Paige is sober.

It’s not the most uncommon occurrence, not anymore. After her ACL, she has learned to be a bit more responsible, a bit more grown up. So when the girls had decided to go out that night, she volunteered to be DD.

And if that gives her a chance to watch over Azzi a little more closely she will take it. The younger girl has been acting off in the past weeks. On the outside, she doubts that anyone else has noticed, but she almost knows Azzi better than she knows herself.

It becomes even clearer that something’s wrong when Azzi returns over and over to the bar, taking way more shots than she usually does.

And now, a few hours into their night, she has disappeared. It’s a small bar, in a small town, so Paige isn’t too worried, but Azzi has never been one to wander off, and especially not on her own.

Paige pokes her head through the door to the back patio which consists of a few picnic tables, lit up with fairy lights. She almost heads back inside when she hears a familiar laugh from the far end of the patio.

When her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Azzi sitting on a table, a tall form looming over her.

“Azzi!” She barks out, strides long as she rushes forward. The figure steps back from her friend, and Paige vaguely recognizes her as one of the members of the girls volleyball team.

“What?!” Azzi fires back, stopping Paige in her tracks.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“I’m talking to a friend.” Paige fights the familiar twist in her stomach at the sight of Azzi’s hand on the other girl’s arm. “Is that okay with you? Or are you the only one allowed to flirt with every woman who throws themselves at you?”

Paige feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She sees a hint of regret on Azzi’s face before she turns her head away.

The stranger looks like she would rather be anywhere else, and Paige would be more embarrassed if she wasn’t so focused on Azzi.

“I’ll see you in class, Azzi?” When Azzi gives a jerky nod in response, the girl takes her leave, giving Paige a cold look as she goes.

Azzi’s eyes are glassy, her cheeks obviously flushed even under the dim lights. She takes a heaving breath, face turned away while she clearly fights tears, and Paige hates that she is the reason for her best friend’s pain.

“Az-” Her hands reach up to find their usual place at Azzi’s waist, but she freezes when Azzi flinches away from her. Her fists clench as she drops them at her side.

“Am I not enough?”

“What?” Paige chokes out. The thought is inconceivable. She reaches out again, grasping at where Azzi has wrapped her arms around herself.

Azzi still isn’t looking her in the eye.

“Azzi, come on.” Paige sighs in relief when Azzi allows her touch, hands warm against the skin exposed by her crop top.

Azzi’s eyes brim with tears. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

That’s when Paige knows something really might be wrong. Azzi is always the one pulling her out of her shell when she’s upset, and she wasn’t usually one to hide her own feelings.

“It’s just us. Me and you.” Paige brings one hand up to cup her jaw and brings their gazes together. “Talk to me. We promised that we’d always talk to each other.”

Azzi takes a deep, steadying breath. And then another.

“I know that we agreed when you came here that we’d pull back and keep it more casual.”

You wanted that! Paige wants to say, but she can’t deny that she took advantage of it, loved it at times even. She can’t deny that sometimes it was nice to be able to talk to, flirt with, and kiss girls who didn’t hold the power to crush her with one word.

But none of those girls ever made her feel even half of how Azzi did, like she could conquer the world if only Azzi was at her side, holding her hand.

“And I know that we decided last year that it was best for the team and for everyone if we just.. didn’t complicate things.”

She keeps it unspoken that it was never that simple, and that it had tested their relationship more than ever having each other so close, but being unable to really be together the way they both hoped the other wanted. And then the season had ended with that devastating loss, and neither of them had had the emotional capacity to deal with all of it.

And then her ACL had happened, and just when Paige had thought that she couldn’t be forced any lower, there was Azzi. Azzi, who had just shown up to hold her, and let her yell and cry, and not be okay, for once.

It still sucks, and there are days where she’s so desperate to play that she cries, but she’s not alone in it. She’ll never be alone again, not as long as she has Azzi. And she knows now, sure as anything, that Azzi is all she’ll ever want.

“I thought something had changed between us this summer, and I’ve been waiting for you to be ready, to tell me you were ready.”

Paige feels like this is a conversation she has been waiting to have for a very long time.

“Do you know what my first thought was the first time I saw you? ”

Azzi huffs in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you shoot a basketball for the first time, and thought, damn, I have to play with her, and then I did, and it was better than I even imagined it would be. Then I got to sit next to you on that plane, and got to really know you, and then I knew that I just wanted you in my life forever. So don’t ever think that you’re not enough. You’re all I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old.”

Azzi’s eyes shimmer with tears, but the smile on her face is radiant. Paige tugs her even closer by the waist until Azzi hooks her arms around her shoulders.

“I wish I was as good with words as you are,” Azzi says, pressing their foreheads together. “I wish I could tell you what you mean to me.”

But Paige doesn’t need Azzi to say it. She can feel it in the way Azzi’s heart pounds against her chest where they are pressed together. She can see it in the way her lips tremble like they’re about to kiss for the first time.

And she can feel it in the way Azzi presses their lips together, like she never wants to stop, like breathing matters less than kissing her.

//

Paige is unzipping her luggage when her phone rings with a Facetime call from KK. She taps accept and as the screen fills with an image, she realizes it isn’t a normal call.

The angle is askew and the camera is out of focus showing a gym with a few figures in the distant background. Somehow KK must’ve accidentally called her. She hears KK’s voice loud and clear joking around with someone with an Australian accent. She smiles, happy that her little freshman is getting along with everyone at the Dawg Camp. She almost hangs up the call when the camera focuses itself and the figures in the background become clear.

They’re a bit far away, but Paige would recognize that form anywhere. Azzi stands at the opposite court putting up shots, though her feet stay planted on the ground. Her stroke is still smooth as butter though, and she’s so strong that the shots swish through the net even if she can’t get off the ground yet.

Someone’s under the net, someone tall with dirty blonde hair, rebounding for Azzi, and she says something, too quiet for Paige to hear from this far away, but she does hear Azzi’s responding laugh.

The sound, one of Paige’s favorite sounds, one that normally never fails to bring a smile to Paige’s face, instead sends an uncontrollable roll of unease through her gut.

She knows it’s irrational, to still get jealous when someone else makes Azzi smile. She’s never been more secure in their relationship than she is now, but apparently that jealous part of her is still alive as she squints down angrily at her phone, watching fucking Kate Martin?! standing way too close to her girl.

“What the hell?” She mutters, and then the phone is moving and KK’s face fills the screen.

“Oh, what the? P. Boogers! My bad, how long have you been on my phone?”

“Kamorea!”

KK jumps from the unexpected growl in Paige’s voice. “Damn what’s gotten up your butt? Say hi to Georgia.”

“Hi,” Paige says, brusquely. She swipes the FaceTime to the corner of the screen, tapping open Instagram and navigating to Azzi’s profile.

“Jeez, tough crowd.” She hears Georgia say as she taps on Azzi’s following, scoffing when she sees Azzi’s most recent follow.

“Dude, lemme talk to Azzi.”

“Y’all fightin’ or somethin’? She seemed all goofy after she talked to you last night.” KK thinks for a second. “Oh was it because you were cheesin’ at those dancers?”

“What?” Paige sputters. “I was just being polite!”

“Mm, sure.”

“Whatever, just let me talk to her, bro come on.” Paige nods, impatiently.

KK rolls her eyes, but still walks down the court. “Azzi,” she calls out. “Dumbass on the line for you.”

Paige watches Azzi’s face come into focus, first looking confused before a smile blooms on her face, dimple creasing her cheek.

“Babe, hey.”

Paige feels all the uncertainty and jealousy just fade away at the sight of that smile.

“Hey,” she replies, softly.

“Did something happen?” Azzi’s brow creases with worry, and she walks a bit away so they can speak in a more private spot.

“No,” Paige lies, suddenly embarrassed about how much she overreacted. “I just miss you.”

“Paige.” Azzi's smile grows even wider. “You called KK to tell her how much you missed me? You just saw me like two days ago.”

“Well, she pocket dialed me, and I saw you, so-” She cuts herself off. “Yeah.”

“I miss you too, dummy.”

Azzi’s smile is softer now, the sight of it fills Paige’s chest with warmth, so different from the mess of emotions she felt just minutes ago. Azzi has always been that for Paige, her safe place, her peace, her home.

Paige hears the noise in the background pick up and Azzi looks up, past the camera.

“You gotta go?”

“I’ll call you later?”

“You better.” Paige smirks and Azzi rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” Azzi pauses with a finger over the screen. “Is Martin still there?”

Azzi looks confused, but she still calls out, “Kate!”

Kate appears over Azzi’s shoulder, looking slightly puzzled at being summoned, but with a friendly smile anyways. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“Good, happy to be here, you know? Just taking it all in. Azzi’s been really nice about helping me actually. Since she’s been here before.” Kate smiles at Azzi, who returns it.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, huh?” Paige winks and Azzi snorts softly. But then she says, voice serious, “Keep an eye on her for me, would ya? She doesn’t like to ask for help for herself sometimes.”

“You got it, Paige. Good to see you.” Kate jogs off to join the others in the now starting scrimmage.

When Paige looks back to Azzi, she almost blushes at the look in her eye.

“You’re always taking care of me.”

“Well, I kinda love you a little, so.” Paige scratches the bridge of her nose, feeling bashful all of a sudden.

“I kinda love you a little too.”

[nichowa-an]

THE ONE WHO STAYED

Pairing: &team!k x y/n

Genre: Best Friends to Lovers | Angst | Betrayal | Comfort | Smut

W.C: ~8,797 MINORS DNI!!

They met when they were five.

Y/n had tripped on the sidewalk outside her building, knees scraped and tears spilling, when Koga Yudai—Kei—plopped beside her, dirt on his cheeks and a neon dinosaur band-aid in his tiny palm.

“Don’t cry,” he said with all the seriousness a child could muster. “Here. It’s a T-rex.”

She blinked at him, still hiccupping, and took it with shaking fingers. His smile was gap-toothed and brilliant, spreading warmth in the moment as he pressed the splint on her scrapes.

From that day on, they were inseparable.

They were the kids who shared lunchboxes and fought over video games, who built forts in living rooms and fell asleep on the same bean bag. Their parents stopped trying to separate them—Y/n and Kei were a package deal.

By twelve, they knew each other’s favorite colors, snacks, and fears. Y/n loved the sunset hues—orange and pink blending on the horizon—while Kei felt drawn to the vibrant blue of the ocean. She hated spiders, while he feared the sting of a bee, so they developed their own brand of bravery, facing down the monsters of childhood together.

By fifteen, they were stealing glances.

“Can I borrow your notes?” Y/n would joke, knowing full well she had memorized them. Kei would pretend to be annoyed, but his eyes sparkled with affection only she could see.

By sixteen, feelings began creeping in—unspoken, tentative, soft around the edges.

A little too much silence after their fingers brushed. A strange heat in Y/n’s cheeks when Kei leaned in too close during study sessions. That weird, aching flutter in Kei’s chest whenever she laughed at another guy’s joke, making him grit his teeth in jealousy.

They never spoke of it.

Too afraid to ruin everything.

High school blurred past them, filled with late-night calls and dumb dares—“I dare you to sing in front of the class!”—with classmates whispering behind cupped hands, “When are you two going to get together already?” Y/n would roll her eyes and laugh, but Kei would just grin, ruffling her hair, playing the part of the protective best friend.

But the question of their future lingered, a thread pulled tight between them, never snapped.

Then came college.

It was supposed to be the same.

They chose different universities, both hoping the distance wouldn’t change anything. “We’ll stay in touch,” they promised over ice cream, their hands grazing just enough to spark tension that neither acknowledged.

And they did. For a while.

Y/n poured herself into her studies, throwing herself into everything but her feelings for Kei. Then she met Satoshi.

Satoshi was older, confident, polished—the kind of guy who said all the right things, held her hand like she was made of glass, and kissed her like she was a dream he’d caught.

Kei smiled when she told him about Satoshi. A part of him wanted to pretend to be happy for her; he wanted the best for Y/n. But the polite smile masked the storm brewing within him.

That night, as he stared at the ceiling of his dorm room until morning, jaw clenched, fists curled, the thoughts crept in like insidious whispers. What about me?

He told himself it was fine. That she deserved happiness—even if it wasn’t with him. But as days turned into weeks, the messages from Y/n got shorter. Calls became fewer. Her voice began sounding distant.

The first time she forgot his birthday, he told himself it didn’t matter. The second time, he stopped sending reminders.

And yet—he never left.

When she needed help with her final project at 2 a.m., he picked up without hesitation. When she had a panic attack before a presentation, he sent her a voice note reminding her how brave she was. I’m always here for you, even when it felt like she was slipping away.

He loved her from a distance.

Silently. Unconditionally.

Meanwhile, Satoshi filled her world.

He promised her forever. He told her she was his light, his everything. She wanted to believe him. But as their relationship progressed, the promises started to crack.

The missed dates. The unreturned calls. The “late work nights” that dragged into weeks.

Her birthdays came and went with half-hearted dinners—a sad excuse for celebration marked by distracted smiles and vague apologies. An empty feeling began to bloom in her chest, noisy and heavy.

Yet Kei never missed a birthday.

One year, she found a small box on her doorstep—delicate silver jewelry, a single star charm. “You shine brighter than anyone,” the note read.

She wore it every day, hoping perhaps that Satoshi would notice one day, but he never did.

Then came the day that changed everything.

A headache. A canceled client. She wasn’t supposed to be home early. The first thing she noticed was the shoes—heels, so out of place beside her own worn sneakers.

“Maybe I should have checked the schedule,” she thought, heart racing as dread pooled in her stomach.

Then the sounds.

Muffled. Rhythmic. Too familiar.

Her heart thudded in her chest, panic rising. No. No, please.

Her feet carried her down the hall before her mind could stop her.

The bedroom door was half-open.

Hesitant breaths turned to horror as she saw them.

His hands on another woman. Her ex-best friend—the one she stopped speaking to after that night at the party, when she caught her leaning too close to Satoshi, laughing too loud at his jokes.

Y/n froze.

Stomach churning, air disappearing from her lungs, she felt like she was a ghost in her own life.

They didn’t see her—until she screamed.

“How could you do this to me?!”

They scrambled apart. Sheets tangled. Her ex-friend grabbed the blanket like modesty mattered now.

The man she thought she’d marry stood half-naked, annoyance etched on his face instead of guilt.

“You knew,” he said flatly. “You just didn’t want to believe it.”

She blinked, incredulous. “All those promises—everything you said to me—”

He scoffed. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t satisfy me.”

The necklace burned against her skin with a reminder of the love she thought was real. In a moment of rage and heartbreak, Y/n ripped it off and threw it at him. It hit his chest with a soft clink, echoing the finality of their shattered dreams.

Then she turned and ran.

There was only one place she could go.

Kei opened the door after the third knock.

His eyes widened at the sight of her—shaking, mascara-streaked, shoulders hunched like she was carrying the weight of the world.

“Y/n?”

She didn’t speak.

Just fell into his arms. He caught her instantly, wrapping himself around her like a shield, anchoring her in the storm that threatened to consume her.

She cried. Not polite sobs—no, this was raw. Ugly. Shattering. Her heart ached as if it had fractured into a million pieces.

“I’m here,” he whispered, holding her tighter. “I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for minutes. Hours. It felt like time stood still, allowing them to breathe—until she could finally gather herself enough to let reality seep back in.

Eventually, he guided her inside.

She curled up on his couch—their couch—wrapped in his hoodie, breathing in the scent of detergent and safety. Everything she needed to surpass the pain.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” she whispered, voice muffled by the fabric.

“You don’t have to be strong right now,” Kei murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I gave him everything,” she admitted, voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“He didn’t deserve it.” His tone was firm, tempered with a gentle understanding that made her sigh in resignation.

She looked up at him, those familiar eyes holding something deeper, brimming with emotion. “Why did you stay?” she asked, needing an answer, a lifeline to grasp.

Kei’s gaze softened. “Because I made a promise.”

“What promise?” she pressed, confused yet hopeful.

“That if everyone else broke your heart… I’d still be here.”

Tears spilled again. But these were different—charged with realization, a promise of something new.

“You were always here,” she whispered. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away another tear. “You always deserved more than what he gave you.”

The silence that followed was thick with every unspoken word they had held back for years. All the moments they could have had but didn’t, crowded into the same space.

Then—

“Help me forget,” she whispered softly. “Please, Kei. Make me feel something that isn’t this.”

His breath hitched. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anyone else. I never really did.”

That was all it took.

He kissed her.

The kiss was slow at first—tentative, made with the delicacy of a thousand promises shared over their years of friendship. Kei was giving her a choice, a chance to back away if she wanted.

But she didn’t.

She pulled him closer, fingers fisting his shirt as if holding on for dear life, pouring every ache and lingering sadness into the way her lips crashed against his. His hand cradled her face gently, deepening the kiss as if trying to erase every hurt in her heart.

Yearnings long hidden poured into that moment, weaving them together irrevocably.

Kei groaned softly, cupping her face, consuming her as if he’d always waited for this. He wanted to be everything the other man hadn’t been—passionate, affectionate, tender.

Their kisses deepened, a sweet desperation taking hold of them as she moaned softly against his mouth. She whimpered when his tongue brushed hers, when his fingers slid into her hair—the familiar touch now electric, igniting a fire inside her. When he pressed his body against hers, it felt like salvation.

But he paused.

“You’ve been hurt,” he whispered, searching her eyes with utmost sincerity. “Let me take my time with you.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of her decision settle over them. “Please.”

With a reverently gentle precision, he lifted her, carrying her to his bedroom—the one she hadn’t been in for years when their lives had intertwined seamlessly. It still smelled like him—cedarwood and fresh linens.

He set her down gently on his bed, still unsure if he deserved this moment with her.

His hands shook as he undressed her, not from lust—but reverence, as if she were a beautiful work of art he was being allowed to appreciate. Afraid that she would vanish into thin air if he wasn’t careful enough.

With eagerness full of wonder, she helped him too, peeling off his shirt, tracing the muscles of his chest. She drank in the sight of the boy she had grown up with—the man he had become—her fingers running over firm skin as if learning him by touch.

When they were both bare, Kei just looked at her, disbelief painted on his features.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, a hushed reverence that made warmth spread through her entire being.

And then he kissed her again.

His lips were urgent against hers, yet still tentative, as if savoring her presence slowly. He explored her body gently, like an artist working on a masterpiece he had long envisioned.

Her breath hitched when he trailed soft kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, across her chest. The sensations threatened to envelop her, and she gasped when he reached the soft underside of her breast, moaning when his mouth closed around her nipple.

“Kei—” her voice broke under the weight of overwhelming pleasure.

He hummed against her skin, eyes blazing with adoration. “I’ve got you.”

With every brush of his hands, he traveled lower, brushing her thighs, parting them slowly. He looked at her, eyes filled with desperation and tenderness.

“You can stop me anytime,” he reminded her, a gentle safeguard in unclear waters.

“I don’t want to,” she breathed, the weight of the world dissolving under his touch.

He slid his fingers through her folds, groaning at how ready she was for him. “For me?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe she wanted him.

She nodded eagerly, biting her lip, heart racing.

“You’re perfect,” he said, kissing her knee, her hip, trailing kisses down to her stomach. Each affectionate touch stirred something new within her, leading her closer to a precipice she desperately wanted to fall into.

When he finally slid inside her, they were already trembling.

Their bodies fit like a secret finally told after an eternity of waiting.

Kei moved slowly, deep, steady thrusts. His forehead pressed to hers, breaths mingling as he whispered sweet nothings. “You’re not broken,” he assured. “You’re not alone.”

She clung to him, tears slipping silently down her cheeks—not from pain—but from the overwhelming sensation of finally being seen, of realizing that she was cherished exactly as she was.

Their climax came like a wave—long, slow, devastating. It surged within her, lighting up her nerves, and her back arched as his name tore from her throat.

He spilled inside her with a choked groan, arms wrapped tight around her as if he was grounding them both.

They stayed like that—tangled in each other, enveloped in warmth, filled with the sweet echo of their moment. Time felt irrelevant, a gentle reminder of the years they had lost yet somehow found each other again.

After a while, when breath began to return to them, she traced lazy circles on his chest, her touch deliberate and soft.

“Does it always feel like this?” she asked softly, wonder slipping into her tone.

“No,” he murmured, kissing her temple, a tender sigh escaping his lips. “Only when it’s real.”

She exhaled softly, a weight lifting from her chest, replaced with new possibility. “It feels… so right.”

“It is.” His gaze held hers firmly, full of promises they could finally start to explore together. “You deserve this. You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will always be here for you.”

Satisfaction warmed her insides; a soft smile broke across her face. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to feel truly alive.

With every brush of his skin against hers, she felt herself being pieced back together. The heartbreak faded slightly into the background as the warmth of new beginnings sparked to life. Kei was not just her anchor; he was the lighthouse guiding her back home.

“Can we talk more?” she asked suddenly, the weight of so many unsaid words beginning to surface between them. “About everything? Where we go from here?”

Kei’s expression softened, a tender understanding filling his eyes. “Of course. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

And for once, in the beautiful silence that followed, she knew it to be true. The darkness of her past no longer had a hold on her. Sitting on the precipice of an unwritten future with him felt thrilling in a way that promised healing.

Together, they would redefine what love meant, and when the world tilted, she knew he would always catch her—in ways that mattered the most.

And as the night melted into dawn, she realized something monumental—this connection they shared extended far beyond friendship or romance. It was a tether of hearts woven together by time, trials, and finally, understanding.

The start of a new narrative was unfolding, full of promise, built on the resilience they had cultivated side by side—their bond a living testament to everything they had overcome just to find each other again.

As the sun began to rise, illuminating the room around them, Y/n felt hope surging, igniting a spark within her she had thought lost forever.

Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she no longer needed to dream of brighter days—she was finally beginning to live them. The weight of past ghosts was lightened, giving way to the thrill of next chapters filled with joy, laughter, and unconditional love—an exhilarating leap into the future, hand-in-hand with the boy who had always been a part of her.

The path ahead was uncertain but wide open—and she wouldn’t change a thing.

Months slipped by, each marked with healing, laughter, and unexpected delight. The air crackled with possibilities as they explored this new dynamic, weaving their lives together anew.

Their late-night chats drifted toward city skies filled with stars or indulged in random adventures around town—festivals, karaoke nights, or silent hikes where their hands would naturally find each other. They truly became more than best friends and lovers; they were partners in every sense of the word.

“I can’t believe we never tried this sooner,” Y/n laughed one evening as they lay under the stars, his arm strewn casually across her shoulders. It was a simple moment—a breath shared in the tranquil night sky—but everything felt charged, ripe with unspoken promises.

“Better late than never, right?”

She chuckled, resting her head against him. Knew it to be true.

The seasons changed, and with it, they found their rhythm transforming into something comfortable. The monumental ache of her past relationships slowly faded, replaced by the warmth of Kei's unwavering support. She loved discovering all the little things that made him who he was—his sense of humor, the way he looked at the world, and his unwavering adherence to remain her biggest fan.

They became each other’s safe space and sweet comfort. Conversations flowed easily about their days or the dreams they had, and as they continued sharing their hearts, they found remnants of fleeting moments from childhood resurfacing, blending beautifully with new experiences.

One afternoon, while she sorted through boxes from home, she found the small dinosaur band-aid they had sealed with a childhood promise—a reminder of how far they had come.

She laughed, holding it up to Kei. “Look what I found! This goofy thing?”

His face lit up with recognition. “Hey, that brings back memories! You cried so hard that day—”

“Only because you scared me when you snuck up on me!” she defended playfully.

With that, the past collided with the present, and laughter echoed through their small apartment, filling every corner.

But one evening, as they sat side by side, she felt the stirrings of something lingering just beneath the surface.

“Kei,” she began tentatively, turning her body to face him, “do you… do you see a future for us?”

His brow furrowed momentarily before a smile broke through his features, one that reached his eyes—warm and inviting. “Always,” he answered without hesitation.

“No doubts? No thoughts on exploring outside our little bubble?”

“No,” he confirmed firmly, “because I don’t just want to keep you close, Y/n. I want to build a life with you. We can expand our own world together. I’ve always known that.”

Her heart fluttered with excitement at his words—making it clear where they stood together. “That’s what I want too.”

He chuckled softly, leaning closer to kiss her forehead. “Then let’s keep doing this—together. Whatever it means, we’ll figure it out.”

And they would. Because they had weathered storms together, felt heartbreaks, and learned that home was found not just in places but in each other’s hearts.

As the stars began to twinkle outside, they slipped their fingers together before leaning back against the couch—comfort in their silence, knowing every shared breath pulled them closer.

With each passing day, they discovered a new strength in their love—a love born from friendship but interlaced with passion, promise, and the unwavering certainty they would always be there for one another.

Together, they would create a narrative. One filled with joy, resilience, and the kind of love that made them believe that even the oldest ties could lead to the brightest beginnings.

—And they were finally ready to write that story together.

[katiemccabeswife]

Daddy Issues

Biv Meadema x Teen!Reader || The Christmas break was ruined by your Dad's anger issues but Beth and Viv are there to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

4.9k words (proud ✊🏼)

You were more than happy to be back in dreary London after the Christmas break, which was abnormal because you loved your home country and having Christmas with your family.

This Christmas had been a good one, after a couple years of cold and rainy summers, Australia had finally had a cracker of a summer and for the first time in years, the lead-up to Christmas actually felt like Christmas again.

You always loved getting to be home with your family and being able to go to the beach every day and this year was no different. Christmas day was wonderful, it started with a swim at the beach and was followed by a beautiful lunch filled with laughter and joy from friends and family.

Your relationship with your father had always been a bit rocky. Sometimes you got on like a house fire, poking fun at your sister together and doing work around the house but other times you got on like cats and dogs. Your mum had always said that you two were too alike and that’s why you fought as much as you did. But it was also known within the four walls of your house that your Dad could be bipolar at times and had an explosive temper and should definitely be in some sort of program for his anger issues that seemed to come out of nowhere.

It was a few days after Christmas and only a few days were left before left to go back to London. You and your Dad were joking like usual and everything seemed fine, until it wasn’t.

You had some family friends over and you guys had just started a game of poker when your Dad asked you to go clean up the kitchen.

“Dad, we literally just started. I’ll do it after, don’t worry,” You weren’t facing him so you couldn’t see his unamused face and took his silence as a silent agreement.

Not even five minutes later he asked you again, “Alright. Now go do the dishes, Y/N,” He said sternly. You had an ongoing joke between the two of you where he would pretend to be stern about something and you would jokingly say ‘No’ right before getting up to go and do whatever he had asked of you. As you were still facing away from him and knew he could see you were still engaged in the game of poker, you assumed he was only joking.

“No,” You giggled slightly and so did the others around the table, “I’m almost out anyways, I’m running out of candy canes,” You joke as candy canes had been the substitution for money.

He only became more consistent with his asking and it was starting to piss you off. You weren’t very good at gambling and were trying to focus and his nagging was throwing you off.

Once you finally got out, first by the way, you were getting up to go and clean the kitchen when your Dad once again asked you to go and do exactly that, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You were fed up with his nagging and your voice portrayed that and the others around the table picked up on it.

“Someone’s mad they lost,” Your sister called out to you.

“Don’t be mad just because you lost!” Your cousin teased.

“Off you go to clean the kitchen,” One of your Dad's mates called out.

“Don’t be mad that you lost!” Your Dad called out which was the final straw for you.

“I’m not mad about losing, I’m pissed off because you’re sitting right behind me asking to clean the kitchen every 5 seconds when you can clearly see that I was in the middle of a game!” You can understand why your Mum says you and your Dad were so alike, but to be fair, he was extremely annoying with his constant nagging behind you.

After making your way inside and to the kitchen you began cleaning but were soon interrupted by your father storming into the kitchen pervaded with anger, "How fucking dare you?" You turned around and saw him making his way over to you.

You thought he was joking in the way you two had been for the past week you spent together, "What?" Your tone held an essence of humour to cover the genuine confusion.

"Get the fuck out!" Your father screamed at you.

"What!" You screamed in confusion as your entire body filled with dread and fear.

"After everything we've done for you! Get the fuck out!" You were trembling with fear when he stepped closer to you, held your arm with one hand and raised his other. You coward away from the large man you recognised as your father.

You ducked under his arm, picked up your keys and ran out of the house and towards your car. You got in and sat in silence for a moment before a wave of sadness washed over your body like a cold shower and you began to sob. You held your hands over your face and cried, you cried like you did when you were 7 years old and didn't finish your dinner because you were sick and your Dad yelled at you just like he had just now, like you did when you were 14 and stood up for your sister who was too scared to and your Dad's face was just as angry as it was a few minutes ago, just like you did when you were 16 and talked back to your Dad, fed up with his borderline misogynistic comments and you were almost as scared of him as you were right now.

You cried because you were scared your father was going to hit you. Your Dad always had a temper and exploded from time to time but never had he ever grabbed you and never had you genuinely believed he was going to hit you. Your hands were shaking and your chest hurt as you couldn't take in a full breath of air and your head was beginning to hurt from crying so hard. You were 19 years old and still crying over your Dad.

After 15 minutes of crying your heart out you started your car and went on a drive. You drove to the beach and took out the towel that was still in your car from your trip earlier that day and you walked towards the water. The waves had calmed and were no longer crashing into the shore with great force but softly rolled through the water and flattened against the sand with grace. You set down your towel and stripped from your clothes, thanking yourself for staying in your bikini all day and walked into the water.

You dove under the water and relished in the calmness and quietness you felt swimming. Once you'd swam out until you couldn't touch you moved to float on your back, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You floated there numbly for at least 20 minutes before you got out and wrapped yourself in your towel. You sat in the sad, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you watched the sun dip below the horizon. Once the light had been stripped from the sky you walked back to your car before the light of an ice cream shop caught your eyes.

You treated yourself to a double-scooped waffle cone and sat down outside the shop, looking over the beach you could barely make out. You knew how your Father would act if you went back home, he would ignore you, pretend you didn't exist and not talk to you until he felt better and after that time was up you would have to pretend nothing happened. You always did so because he was your father, your best friend at times and how could you not forgive him for screaming in your face?

You were grown now though and you weren't going to pretend this never happened and you decided that you weren't going to talk to him until he apologised. You knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon so, you got out your phone and booked a flight back to London.

Once you had finished your ice cream it was well into the night and you had a flight to catch in 6 hours so you went back to pack your things.

You thought that everyone would have left by now and your family would be asleep but by the number of familiar cars littered through the street and the lights still on in your house, you knew that was not the case. You took a deep breath before walking into the house, keeping your head held high but not making eye contact with anyone. You walked straight past the living room ignoring the calls of your name and headed straight to your childhood room.

You were putting the few things that were spread around back into your suitcase when your Mum walked in, "Y/N, what happened honey?"

You tried to contain your tears as you turned to look at your Mum but as soon as you started speaking, the floodgates opened and you sobbed again, "I thought he was going to hit me," You said through the tears and your mother took you into her arms, securing your head with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your back to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, y/n/n, I'm sorry, but you know that you shouldn't push your father like that," You ripped yourself out of her hold and stared at her in betrayal, "You two are too similar, it's only a matter of time before joking become reality and laughing becomes crying. You know he has a temper, you need to be careful. I also think you should be the bigger person and apologise." She said. Whilst you didn't blame your mother for your father's actions a part of you despised how she always sat and watched you and your sister cry while he yelled at you two minutes after laughing with you.

You turned around silently zipped up your suitcase and walked to leave, "Where are you going, baby?"

You faced her with fresh tears born from anger, " I am leaving, I'm going back to London because I shouldn't have to 'be careful' around my own Dad. You know how fucked that is!? I shouldn't have to be the bigger person! He's a grown man, he needs to learn to regulate his fucking feelings and act like it!" You had never shouted at your Mum and you barely ever swore around her but you were tired of her picking your Dad's side over yours.

She tried to reach out to you but you brushed past her slightly and walked out the door. You should have been the bigger person and left silently but you heard your Dad laugh in the living so you left your suitcase at the door and walked to where your Dad sat. You walked straight up to him with a straight face, flung your middle finger into his direction and said, "Fuck you, you fucking pussy." You walked straight out the door and didn't hear a word from anyone in the house.

You spent the entire 24-hour trip back to London reflecting on the past day and what it meant for the future of the relationship with your parents. You knew your Mum just wanted to be the mediator and that your Dad was too stubborn to apologise. You also knew that you were going to stick to your word and not speak to your parents until they apologised. You also grieved the relationship with your father as you knew that it would never be the same ever again. It was one thing that he grabbed you and then he had to restrain himself from actually hitting you.

You grieved for the little girl who just wanted to please her father, who wished she was a boy because your Dad often talked about how much he wanted one. He was the reason you started football. Girls didn't really play it, it was seen as something only boys should be doing, so you cut your hair and signed up for the local club. He came to every game and cheered you on and after a good game he'd say to you, "Who needs a son when I've got you," It seemed like a nice statement but looking back on it, it really messed with you.

It was only when you moved out and overseas to play for Arsenal at 17 that you realised that your Dad really wasn't the best guy and an even worse Father. Albeit that you never said or did anything about it because you thought of all those kids whose Dad hit them or left them when they were young and reminded yourself that you were lucky.

But now, after 2 years of living by yourself and a therapy session here and there you realised that just because other kids had it worse didn't mean that what you went through was ok or that you didn't deserve to be treated the way you were.

When you landed and got your luggage it was 8 in the morning and you felt your phone buzzing in your hand. Beth was calling you and you weren't sure if you should answer but you knew she would worry if you didn't so you headed to the nearest bathroom and answered her Facetime, "Hey, Beffy," Your voice was a little hoarse from crying and you hoped Beth wouldn't pick up on how red your eyes were.

Beth smiled at you, "Hey chicky," She must have noticed that you were hiding in a bathroom, "What you doing?" She questioned.

"Umm," You hesitated, "I'm in the bathroom... In the airport," You said sheepishly.

Beth's smile dropped and her face took up a concerned look, "Why are you at the airport? Which one?"

You picked at your nails, anxious to tell her where you were and scared she would ask why, "London," You almost whispered.

"Oh," She looked really concerned now, "Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You shook your head quickly not wanting to be a nuisance, "It's alright thank you, I've ordered an Uber," You smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of your friend.

"Well, why don't you come over for breakfast. I want to hear all about your holiday and I can even get Vivi to make the special waffles you like?" She was so hopeful you couldn't deny her offer and you really wanted Viv's special waffles.

"Yeah ok, I'll be there around 9? Is that alright?" Anxiety pulled at your chest at the thought of telling her and Viv about what happened with your Dad.

"Perfect, I'll see you soon, chicky!" You smiled and hung up the phone. You walked out of the cubicle and splashed water on your face to try and even out your breathing.

"Fucking idiot."

Thanking the Uber you rushed up the stairs towards Viv and Beht's place eager to fill your hungry stomach although once you'd got to the door you hesitated to knock. You checked your eyes in your phone camera and concluded that you could blame the slight redness and puffiness from sleeping and hayfever (it seemed you had hayfever all the time and the girls always made fun of your sneezes and even kept count, each time urging you to beat your 'high score').

You took a deep breath to release the hold anxiety seemed to have on your heart before knocking on the door. You instantly heard Myle and Rona barking and the sound and smiled, now excited to play with the puppies.

"Y/N/N! Oh, my little chicky," You were immediately wrapped in a hug from the girl and whilst reciprocating it you felt the urge to cry taking over you once again but you had cried enough for a long time and told yourself to suck it up.

"Hi, Beffy," Your voice was muffled from you pressing it into the crook of Beth's neck.

Beth waited for you to release the hug (she seemed to have a sense of when people needed a hug) and when you did she took your face between her hands, "How have you been, y/n/n?" She asked worriedly.

You smiled sadly at her, "I'm alright, thanks, how are you?"

Beth didn't seem convinced but knew you were aware you could talk to her at any time and if you weren't ready, she would wait, "I am even better now that you are here!" She exclaimed before taking your suitcase in one hand and your hand in her other and dragged you into the house, "Oh, Vivi! I've just gotten a very special delivery!" She turned back and winked at you but continued to lead you to the kitchen.

"Y/N/N!" Viv said with mock enthusiasm, trying to match Beth's with great difficulty with it being early in the morning.

You met her in the middle and gave her a hug, knowing she was joking and that she wasn't a morning person, "Hi, Vivi," You greeted.

Once you broke out of the hug you sheepishly looked to the waffle machine and back to Viv who caught on to your looks, "They'll be 'bout 2 minutes. I know two fluffy little girls who would love to see you," She egged on and you quickly went to find the puppies.

Once you spotted them you dropped to your knees and soon you had two dogs jumping on you and licking your face, "Hello Miss Rona and hello Miss Myle! How are we today my girls!" You spoke in a baby voice and continued to talk to the dogs as if they were such, oblivious to the conversation happening in the kitchen.

"Is she alright? She looks like she's been crying. And wasn't she supposed to come back in another 4 days?" Viv questioned.

Beth sighed and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, "I don't know what's up but she definitely has been crying and I bet that would explain why she's back so early. When I called she looked like she'd only just stopped crying, I don't know what happened," She looked desperately at Viv. Beth and Viv were unofficially your step-in parents whilst you were in London or wherever you travelled with Arsenal. Beth was a second Mum to you and she took her role very seriously, always checking if you'd had a good sleep and what you had for dinner and if neither of you had plans she would always invite you over for dinner and a movie.

Viv was your unofficial 'Dad' as you'd claimed and would come over to your apartment to fix anything that needed to be done and give you piggyback rides when you were 'too tired' to walk, "Do you want to ask after breakfast? I don't want her to feel overwhelmed, maybe I'll take Myle and Rona for a walk and you could talk to her then?"

Beth nodded, "Yeah alright, I'll do that," She agreed with a sad face.

Viv noticed the look and hugged her again, "She'll be alright, she's with us now, yeah?"

"I just worry about her when she goes home. I miss her as well," She took a deep breath and put on a brave face when you walked in with Rona and Myle on her heels.

"Umm, I think the waffles are done?" You pointed to the waffle iron that was lightly smoking.

Viv rushed over and took out the waffles that were only slightly burned around the edges, "Crispy edges give them more flavour," she told you when she put them in front of you.

You looked up at her in amusement, "Of course, Vivi," You joked while adding your choice of toppings.

You, Beth and Viv conversed lightly over breakfast about your trip home and what you got up to whilst in Australia. You told them what you did with a smile on your face but they both noticed how it didn't stretch as far as usual and how you talked as if your parents hadn't been there at all albeit you staying in their house.

"Right, y/n/n you can go get yourself sorted in the spare room. You are staying tonight," Beth ordered jokingly to which you smiled and nodded in agreement, not really wanting to be alone for another night, "Vivi's gonna walk the puppies and I'll clean up." She clapped her hands and everyone spread off to their 'assignments'.

As Viv was a very clean cook Beth's cleaning was more or less tidying and she quickly joined you in the spare bedroom, "Hey chicken," She spoke softly when she walked in and noticed you staring at the wall looking crestfallen.

You smiled as brightly as you could, "Hi Beffy, sorry I got distracted. I'm a little bit jet-lagged," You waved off, "Do you need help cleaning the kitchen?"

Beth joined you on the bed, "It's all sorted don't worry sweetheart. How you feeling?" She questioned looking you deep in the eyes.

Her stare was so loving and concerned that it made that stupid feeling of crying come back, "I'm fine? You?" Your voice was slightly off as you had a lump in your throat but tried to play it off.

Beth sighed as she didn't want to press you but had to know what was going on with you, "Chick..." She spoke softly and you had to turn your head so she wouldn't see your eyes filling with tears.

She placed a hand on your shoulder and rubbed it gently and you couldn't hold it anymore, your hands came to cover your face and you brought your knees up to your chest and sobbed loudly.

"Oh, honey, no," Beth hated seeing anyone cry but you had a special place in her heart which hurt her even more. She moved your head to be on her shoulder and your legs to lay across her own. She rocked slightly and continued to rub your back. You were hysterical at this point, the comfort Beth was bringing you reminded you of your mother which reminded you of her taking your father's side which brought on another loud sob from deep in your chest.

Beth had to lift your head from her neck to make sure you could get enough oxygen and wouldn't pass out, "Honey, I know it's hard but I need you to take a deep breath for me please," She grabbed your water bottle from the nightstand and gave it to you and you clung to it like a lifeline.

You truly were trying to calm yourself but you couldn't stop crying and you couldn't get enough air to your lungs which was starting to hurt and you began to cough and gag. "Lovely, what's going on?" Beth was extremely concerned you were going to pass out.

After another minute of coughing and gagging you managed to get enough air into your lungs and nestled your head back into Beth's neck and she took your body back into her arms, "I thought he was going to hit me," You cried out as if the words caused you physical pain.

Beth was shell-shocked from the words that came out of your mouth but quickly recovered to comfort you. "Your dad?" She questioned as you had confided in her before about his temper.

You nodded and whimpered slightly as you had calmed down and were no longer audibly sobbing, "And mum," The thought of your mother made you sob again and it took you another minute to rein it back in all whilst Beth sat there patiently waiting for you to talk.

You managed a deep breath and Beth wiped your face free of tears although they were quickly replaced with new ones, "My dad got really angry and then he grabbed my arm and he had his fist up," You cried, "I thought he was going to hit me!" You sobbed.

Beth shook her head and cooed, "Did he?"

You shook your head and Beth relaxed slightly, "And then mum said- she said that I should know better than to push his buttons and that I needed to be careful and that I should apologise!" You weren't the only one who was angry now but Beth had to contain hers to continue to comfort you.

Beth shook her head, "That's not ok, y/n/n, it's not and I am so sorry you had to go through that and I'm glad that you told me, thank you for trusting me,"

You nodded sadly, "I love you Beffy," And you collapsed into her hold and cried silently as she rocked you.

"I love you too, chick, did you leave straight after that?" She questioned wanting to get a better idea of how quickly you left.

She felt you shake your head 'no', "I drove off to the beach and then got myself an ice cream and booked the flight. And once I got home, that's when mum said all that stuff but I'd already packed my bag so I went to leave but my dad was in the living room and he was laughing. I don't know what he was laughing at but it made me so angry so I went and called him a 'fucking pussy'," You both giggled slightly at it, you weren't known to swear and it always sounded weird coming from your mouth.

"I'm proud of you, sweets," Beth kissed the top of your head.

You nodded into her chest, "Thank you, for being here for me" You spoke quietly. Beth continued to rock you and had to look to the ceiling to stop herself from crying. She looked down when she heard quiet snoring coming from you and laid you down against the pillow and laughed quietly at you hugging your water bottle.

She had walked into the kitchen before she started crying. She didn't know how long she'd been standing there crying until two sets of paws jumped at her thighs and when she looked up she saw Viv's concerned face.

Viv dropped the leads on the kitchen counter and gently took hold of Beth's arms, "What's happened? Where's y/n?" She questioned quickly.

Beth sobbed quietly, "She- and her dad- oh and then her mum-," She couldn't get a full sentence out so after holding her in her arms to calm her down, Viv gave her a glass of water.

They had moved to the couch which was where Beth explained the whole story to Viv who was extremely concerned, "And she was crying so hard she was coughing and gagging. Vivi, I was so scared she'd pass out and oh her little face! I don't know how I kept it together!" She outraged quietly, acknowledging the fact that you were asleep down the hall.

Viv once again held Beth, just like she had you, "I can't believe it. I've met him and he seemed lovely. I mean I know they didn't always get along but I never thought it was that bad," She spoke in disbelief.

Beth nodded and was significantly more calm than she had been previously, "She's sleeping now. God, she must be exhausted. I feel so bad for her, my poor little chicken," Beth pouted at the thought of your sad face.

"I know, love, but she's here now, right? She is safe and she's sleeping, it'll be ok," Viv consoled.

"Yeah," Beth nodded dejectedly.

Once you woke up you checked your phone and realised you'd slept for 5 hours but it felt like you could sleep for an eternity. You didn't feel up to talking to the girls yet so you opened your phone and scrolled through Instagram for a while. Most of the Arsenal girls had posted photo dumps of the year and you smiled every time you saw yourself in one and when you saw the girl's comments. Beth and Viv's photo dumps warmed your heart. You appeared in almost all of the photos and laughed when you saw Katie's comment.

katie_mccabe11 might aswell adopt y/n/n now, hey?

You felt so loved and warmed that you decided to post your own.

yourusername

liked by stephcatley, lliawaelti and others

yourusername eternally grateful for my girls, i love you all ❤️ happy new year!

view 567 comments

kyracooneyx awe stop it you sap 🤭

alannakennedy love ya darls 🩷

leahwilliamsonn my favourite chick 🐥

bethmead_ love you chicken ❤️

Once you had plucked up the energy to head outside you were met with Viv and Beth tucked under a blanket with Netflix loaded on the screen in front of them and a variety of your favourite snacks on the table.

"Hey, y/n/n," Viv noticed you first and Beth quirked up at the sound of your name.

You were standing sheepishly in the hall with one of your pant legs pushed up to your knee, your hair a mess and your water bottle between your arms. Beth cooed at the sight of you, "Come over here chick," She moved over so you would sit between her and Viv.

"Any movie suggestions?" Viv asked teasingly, knowing which movie you would want to watch.

You smiled at her and leaned against Beth, "Grown Ups?" You offered and Viv snickered at the choice, it being your go-to movie.

"Of course," She put it on and whilst you could recite the entire movie off by heart you were still upset that you missed most of it but blamed Beth running her hands through your hair and Viv rubbing your lower legs for putting you to sleep, somewhere where you felt safe, warm and loved.

[sandmunch]

could u write fluff with min-su where he's ashamed 2 b crying but also desperate for comfort plz

Min-su fluff!!

warnings: none

not proofread…

i hope this is what u had in mind!!

——————————————

Min-su sat hunched against the cold, metal wall of his bunk, his knees drawn up to his chest. His hands trembled as they curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. The overhead lights, casting long, eerie shadows over the rows of bunks. Around him, exhausted players lay in uneasy sleep, their breathing ragged, their bodies curled in on themselves like they were trying to disappear.

But Min-su couldn’t sleep.

His mind replayed the game over and over, like a cruel film on a loop. The sound of screams still echoed in his ears, the weight of it pressing down on his chest. He could still feel the stickiness of blood on his hands, even though he had scrubbed them raw at the sink.

A shaky breath slipped from his lips, and he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to cry. Crying was weakness. Weakness got you killed here. He had learned that on the very first day.

And yet, despite everything, despite the sheer force of will he tried to summon, his eyes burned, his throat tightening. His chest ached in that awful, familiar way that always came before the tears.

He bit his lip, turning his head toward the wall, willing himself to stay silent. Maybe if he just sat still enough, if he just breathed through it, the feeling would go away.

But then he felt it.

A touch, soft, hesitant, on his arm.

He flinched at first, instinct screaming at him to pull away, but then your voice came, quiet and warm, threading through the icy fog in his head.

“Min-su,” you whispered. Just his name. Nothing more.

It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t some meaningless reassurance, like the ones people gave when they didn’t understand. It was just, acknowledgment. A quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Min-su squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shaking.

“I—I shouldn’t…” His voice cracked, rough and uneven. He hated how weak he sounded. He hated how much he wanted, no, needed, this.

You hesitated for only a moment before shifting closer, letting your warmth press against his side.

“Who says?” you murmured, voice barely above a breath.

His throat tightened. He shook his head, breath hitching. “Crying won’t change anything.”

You sighed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you have to hold it in.”

Something inside him twisted painfully, like an old wound being exposed to open air. He had spent so long pretending to be fine, forcing himself to keep moving, keep surviving, even when it felt like he was crumbling from the inside out.

But right now, in this moment, with you beside him, he couldn’t keep pretending.

A choked sound slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and suddenly, he was gripping your sleeve like a lifeline. His body shook, silent sobs wracking his frame as he buried his face in his arms, as if that could hide the broken pieces of himself spilling out.

But you didn’t pull away.

You stayed.

One hand came up to thread through his hair, the other rubbing slow, steady circles against his back. The warmth of your touch seeped through the layer he had built around himself, melting something deep inside his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered.

He clung to those words like they were the only thing keeping him afloat.

Min-su didn’t know how long you sat there with him, holding him through the storm. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. But for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.

Just for a little while.

Just enough to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

——————————————

my first time writing for Min-su :3

[mykoreanlove]

SPINNING BOTTLES

part 1 part 2 part 3 lil' extra

“Eun Woo, wait”, you pushed him away and tried to regain control. His lips found their way back onto yours in seconds, he didn’t even think about stopping. “I’ve waited enough, y/n”, he mumbled against your lips.

Your insides were melting as you felt the same, but the rational part of your brain took over. “No, wait”, this time you pushed him back more forcefully. He stumbled back and looked at you puzzled, not understanding what was going on. “What about your girlfriend?” “What about her?” Anger rose in your body the same way it did when you were a kid. This was exactly what you were afraid of, only this time you weren’t the one that got cheated on, but the one that helped with the cheating. “I can’t believe this”, you muttered under your breath and stormed past him, wanting to escape badly. It took Eun Woo a minute to understand the confusion but as soon as he snapped back into reality, he ran after you. “Wait. Y/N, wait”, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around. “This is not what it looks like”, he explained. “This is exactly what it looks like. Apparently, you are in love with me, yet you are together with her? And now you’re here kissing me? That’s so fucked up, Eun Woo. I knew this was a mistake”, you spat angrily. “Whoa, will you let me talk maybe? You got it all wrong, y/n.” You looked at him confused. Normally, you would have left. But something about the look in his eyes urged you to stay and hear him out. “This is not what this is. Listen…”, he grabbed your hand and drew small circles on it. “After you stopped talking to me, I was devastated. I really was. And then I met her, and we had some fun and stuff, but I was always honest with her. She knew that I was in love with you and only used her to distract myself. Which she was fine with”, he explained. You never understood how people could casually sleep with one another, but you had learned the hard way that this was the norm nowadays. “She and I, we came up with this little play”, Eun Woo continued. “Play?” He nodded. “Listen, I was desperate. I was in love with you, but you stopped talking to me. Ignored my messages, ignored my calls, even my visits. So, her and I came up with that plan. We pretended we were together, like a normal couple.” Your eyes widened in shock. Pretended to be a couple? “I hoped that this would get through to you and trigger some kind of reaction. Bad or good, I didn’t care. I just wanted to have you back in my life and understand what had happened. All this silly game was just for you to finally come back to me, y/n.” You gulped hard. He did all this just for me? “Do you believe me?” He looked at you with sincere puppy eyes, voice cracking from concern. You nodded your head; you actually believed him. “Oh, thank god”, he sighed relieved and put his arms around you, hugging you as tightly as he could. “Don’t you think people will talk when they see you with me now? After that confession in there?” “I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone but you, y/n.” The butterflies returned and somersaulted within you. “If I have to endure ridicule or malicious comments, so be it. If all that was necessary to finally, have you back in my life, then I’ll take that. I’ll take anything for you.” You wiggled out of his embrace and looked up at him, visibly touched by his words. “You really mean that?” Eun Woo’s face came closer, his nose rubbing yours lightly while smiling. “I do, y/n.”

[woso-co-op]

The journal of secrets

Chapter 2: "The Game Begins"

The café was buzzing with the usual mid-morning crowd, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air as customers shuffled in and out. Y/N sat at a small table near the window, nervously tapping her fingers against the cup of tea in front of her. Her heart raced, and her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions.

*This is just pretend,* she reminded herself for the hundredth time that morning. *It’s not real.*

But that didn’t stop her from feeling like this was the most important moment of her life.

Alessia sat across from her, completely at ease—or at least pretending to be. She leaned back in her chair, effortlessly confident, as if this were any other day. Y/N envied how composed she was. It was like Alessia had done this a thousand times before, and maybe she had—in a different way, with someone else. Someone who wasn’t playing a role like Y/N was.

“So,” Alessia said with a smirk, breaking the silence between them. “How’s my fake girlfriend doing?”

Y/N laughed nervously, trying to play along with the light tone. “You know, just surviving. Pretending to date a superstar footballer is harder than it looks.”

“Careful,” Alessia teased, leaning in slightly. “You’re going to make me think you’re not enjoying this.”

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at the way Alessia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. She quickly glanced down at her cup, trying to hide the warmth creeping up her neck. “No, no, it’s… it’s fine. Just, you know, getting used to the whole ‘fake relationship’ thing.”

Alessia chuckled softly, taking a sip of her coffee. “Relax, Y/N. We’ve got this. The more natural we act, the more convincing it’ll be.”

*Natural.* That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Everything about this felt the opposite of natural. Sitting here with Alessia, pretending to be something she wasn’t—it was like trying to fit into a role that didn’t quite belong to her. But Alessia made it seem so easy, so effortless.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a few familiar faces near the entrance of the café. Teammates. Two of the younger girls from the reserve squad, glancing curiously in their direction. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. *They’re watching.*

Alessia must have noticed too because she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice as she spoke. “Showtime.”

Y/N blinked, not quite understanding what she meant, until Alessia reached across the table and gently took her hand. The gesture was casual, playful, but the touch of Alessia’s fingers sent a jolt of electricity through Y/N’s body.

Her pulse quickened as she glanced down at their intertwined hands. *This isn’t real. This isn’t real.*

But for a moment, it was hard to tell the difference.

Alessia squeezed her hand lightly, her smile never faltering. “You okay?” she asked, her voice soft enough that only Y/N could hear.

Y/N nodded, though her throat felt tight. “Yeah. Just… surprised, I guess.”

Alessia’s smile turned into a grin, and for a moment, Y/N forgot they were pretending. Forgot they were in a crowded café with teammates watching from the sidelines. It felt like they were the only two people in the room.

“Good,” Alessia said, releasing her hand and leaning back in her seat. “Because we’re just getting started.”

Y/N tried to shake off the strange mix of excitement and nerves as they continued their conversation, but the flutter in her chest lingered long after their first “date” was over.

---

Back at home later that evening, Y/N found herself replaying the day’s events over and over in her head. The way Alessia had taken her hand, the way she had smiled, the way her voice had softened when she asked if Y/N was okay—it all felt so real. Too real.

Y/N sighed, lying back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. *Get a grip, Y/N.* This was all part of the plan, nothing more. Alessia was good at this—at playing a role, at making it seem convincing. That was the whole point, right? To convince everyone else that they were dating.

But why did it feel like Y/N was the one being convinced?

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, and she reached for it, expecting a message from one of her friends. Instead, it was a text from Alessia.

---

Alessia - *You did great today. We totally nailed it.*

Y/N smiled despite herself, her heart skipping a beat at the thought that Alessia had been thinking about it too. She quickly typed out a response, trying not to sound too eager.

Y/N - *Thanks, it was… weirdly fun.*

Alessia’s reply came almost instantly.

Alessia - *Weirdly? Ouch. I thought we were the perfect fake couple.*

Y/N laughed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. It was easy to forget, in moments like these, that they were pretending. Alessia made it seem so effortless—so fun.

Y/N - *Okay, maybe we’re a little perfect.*

---

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then tossed her phone aside, rolling over onto her side. Her heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. There was something else there—something she couldn’t quite put into words.

It was terrifying, exhilarating, and confusing all at once.

*Don’t get too attached,* she reminded herself, closing her eyes. *It’s not real.*

But in the quiet of her room, with only her thoughts for company, it was hard to remember where the line between pretending and reality was supposed to be.

---

The locker room was always a chaotic mix of chatter, laughter, and the occasional playful argument. But today, Y/N could feel eyes on her as soon as she walked in. She tried to act casual, keeping her head down as she stuffed her bag into her locker, but the hushed whispers from a few teammates didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, Y/N,” Katie called from across the room, her voice laced with teasing. “Heard you and Alessia had a nice little coffee date yesterday.”

Y/N’s stomach did a nervous flip. She forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “Yeah, we just grabbed some coffee. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Katie raised an eyebrow, grinning like a cat that had caught the canary. “You sure about that? You two looked pretty cozy from what I heard.”

Y/N’s face flushed, but she kept her composure. This was exactly what she and Alessia had planned, after all—to give people something to talk about, to make it seem real. Still, it felt strange, hearing her teammates talk about it like it was something more.

Before she could respond, Alessia walked into the locker room, her usual confident smile in place. She met Y/N’s gaze across the room, and for a brief moment, Y/N forgot where she was. There was something about the way Alessia looked at her—something that made her heart skip a beat.

Katie glanced between them, clearly noticing the silent exchange. “Well, well, looks like the lovebirds are reunited.”

Alessia, ever the charmer, simply smirked. “Jealous, McCabe?”

Katie laughed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. You two make a cute couple.”

Alessia winked, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile, even though her heart was still racing. This was what they wanted, right? For people to notice. To believe it.

So why did it feel so much more complicated?

---

Later that afternoon, they were back on the pitch, running through a series of drills. Y/N was paired with Alessia, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship thing had started, they were alone together, away from the watchful eyes of their teammates.

Alessia seemed to sense Y/N’s nervousness because she kept the conversation light, teasing her whenever she missed a pass or stumbled over her words.

“Come on, Y/N,” Alessia said with a grin, jogging over to her. “You’re not gonna let a little ‘relationship’ get in the way of your game, are you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck. “Oh, shut up. I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you are,” Alessia teased, passing the ball to her. “You’re just distracted by how amazing I am, right?”

Y/N laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You wish.”

Alessia’s grin widened, and for a moment, they were just two teammates, joking around on the field. But then, as they paused to catch their breath, the playful banter faded into something more comfortable—something softer.

“Hey,” Alessia said quietly, her tone shifting. “You’re doing great, you know. With all of this.”

Y/N glanced at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. “Thanks. It’s… not as easy as you make it look.”

Alessia shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s not as easy as it looks for me either.”

There was something in her voice—something unspoken, something Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on. But before she could ask, Alessia turned and jogged back to the center of the field, calling for her to follow.

Y/N stared after her, her mind racing. There was more to this—more to Alessia—than she had realized.

---

That night, as Y/N lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, doubt gnawed at her. This whole fake relationship thing had seemed like a fun game at first, a way to spend more time with Alessia, even if it wasn’t real. But now… now it was starting to feel like something else. Something more complicated.

She couldn’t keep pretending that her feelings weren’t real. Not when every touch, every smile, every laugh sent her heart into overdrive. This wasn’t just a game anymore—not for her.

But what about Alessia?

Y/N sighed, rolling onto her side. What if Alessia never saw her that way? What if she was just playing along, keeping it casual, while Y/N fell deeper into something that wasn’t even real?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Alessia’s name on the screen.

---

Alessia - *You good? You seemed a little off today.*

Y/N hesitated before typing a response, her fingers hovering over the keys. She wanted to tell Alessia the truth, to admit how confused she was, how hard it was to keep pretending. But instead, she typed something safe.

Y/N -  *Yeah, just tired. Thanks for checking in.*

A few moments later, Alessia replied.

Alessia -  *No problem. Get some rest, yeah? We’ve got another big day tomorrow.*

Y/N smiled, despite the confusion still swirling in her chest. She turned off her phone and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

But deep down, she knew this was only going to get harder.

[notsocooljess]

something small

Katniss and Peeta exchange surprise gifts on a cozy Christmas morning.

“Spiked eggnog?” Peeta asked.

“This early?” Katniss responded with a grimace.

“Why the face? It’s your favorite.”

“Not at nine in the morning.”

“That’s not what you said last year,” Peeta chuckled, but he put the pitcher away and set a kettle of water on the stove instead.

Christmas celebrations came about after the war, when New Panem hired historians to look up traditions from the past to help bring morale back to the nation. It took a few years to really take hold – frivolous gifts had never been big in the districts, where money had always been better spent on items needed to survive.

But, in time they learned that gifts were not the only thing people loved about the holiday. Coming together over great food, drink, and dance with neighbors had always been loved here. What harm is caused by celebrating old traditions with those you love? With well over a decade since the war ended, people were faring far better than the previous generation could have hoped for, so the cause for celebration had firmly planted its place in society once again.

So, now on the day, they bake and sing and dine and drink. The past few years, Delly, Thom, their two boys, and Haymitch have stopped by in the evening to eat a feast Peeta spent hours cooking up while Katniss pretended to help and nibbled on the scraps. The mornings, however, are reserved for the two of them. Lounging about, playing games, and reliving memories, both happy and sad.

Katniss straightened out a bow on their tree while Peeta attended to the whistling kettle. When they first set up a tree years ago, she wasn’t sure how she felt about cutting it down just for decoration. She hated damaging her woods. She remembered how Peeta had begged her to have it inside and finally convinced her by telling her they would cut the tree apart for firewood after the holiday, and she chuckled at the memory.

A hand waving in front of her face made her jump back.

“Whoa!” Peeta exclaimed, taking a step back to avoid spilling the contents of the steaming mugs in his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Did you hear me calling you?” Peeta asked, and Katniss shook her head. “Peppermint or cinnamon tea?”

She plucked the peppermint tea from his hand and went over to sit on their couch. Peeta was not far behind her with his mug in one hand and a tray of speculoos cookies they baked together in the other. He placed the tray in front of them and sat beside her, and Katniss tucked her cold feet under his warm flannel-clad thigh.

He took a sip of his tea and looked at her, his eyebrow arched as his mug made its way to and from his lips. He looked at her like he was waiting for her to confess something.

“What?” Katniss asked defensively.

“You feeling okay? I don’t think I’ve ever snuck up on you in my life.”

Katniss dipped her cookie in her tea and swirled it around. Bits of cookie broke off as it became saturated, spinning in the mini whirlpool inside her mug. This morning, her stomach didn’t seem open to much more than the tea.

She forced a smile and said, “I’m fine. Just thinking.” And she really was just thinking, but Peeta nodded in response as if he knew what she meant. Almost all the time he did, but she doubted he did right now.

They sat in the silence of thought and memory. Snow was flurrying outside, a calm before the heavy storm that was supposed to come later in the week. Katniss was thinking, yes, but she didn’t want Peeta to think it was over something sad. She wanted to make sure their day was full of joy with their found family.

She drank from her mug and gave a content sigh, catching Peeta’s attention as she laid her head against the back of the couch. He mimicked her movements, and smiled at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said to her, and even with years and years of getting compliments like these from Peeta, Katniss still wasn’t used to how casually he was able to say it, and she felt heat rush her cheeks as she smiled back at him.

Looking at him in their home, happy and healthy and hers, she felt a sudden wave of emotion start to overtake her. Again, she didn’t want Peeta to think she was sad, quite the contrary, and she needed to change the topic before he became worried.

“So remind me of our menu tonight?”

Peeta went on to describe the feast he had planned, which Katniss was already familiar with since she had helped gather much of the items. Roasted duck, brussel sprouts, mashed potatoes. Cheese buns and spinach pastries. Too many cookies and apple pie. Normally, Katniss’s mouth would be watering just from the conversation. Currently, the only thing that sounded appetizing was the cheese buns.

“Well if we’re gonna feed the town tonight, shouldn’t we get started?” Katniss asked.

“Soon, but not yet,” Peeta responded. “First,” Peeta started, and he leaned over the side of the couch, “I want to give you this,” he finished, presenting Katniss with a small box. She looked at him with surprise.

“It’s just something small, but…” his voice trailed off as he bit his bottom lip, suppressing a smile.

They’d never been Christmas gift givers. A calm morning off from the bakery and a break from hunting were usually how they celebrated. Small gifts on the day-to-day just helped further cement their love for one another, and for Katniss and Peeta, grand gestures had always come off the most sincere when they were unexpected. Of course, since they did not typically give gifts on Christmas, Katniss supposed this would now be considered unexpected.

Peeta placed the small box in her hands, perfectly wrapped by his skilled hands. When Katniss opened the box, she found a gold ring, expertly shaped to look like a primrose flower with a small diamond in the center. She gasped, and tears brimmed her eyes almost immediately, but she couldn’t take them away from the ring.

Since she couldn’t speak, Peeta filled the silence. “It just hit fifteen years, and I thought this would be a good way to remember her. I reached out to Effie, and she got me in touch with someone Cinna and Portia used to work with. I sent her probably fifty sketches of my idea. I was so nervous she wouldn’t be able to do it how I envisioned it, but I should’ve known that if she worked with Cinna and Portia, she’d be able to do practically anything.”

So, Peeta got her a gift, and not a gift he just went and bought. He designed it. With Cinna and Portia and Prim in mind. Any words she could come up with right now would not be enough.

With Katniss choked up, Peeta’s anxious words continued like an endlessly flowing river. “And I know we toasted so long ago, but we never really did the ring thing, and I never even really asked you if that was something you wanted because it's always been such a Capitol thing, but then I thought maybe you felt like you were missing out on it. I also thought a ring might be the easiest piece of jewelry because it’s small and it won’t get caught in your hair like a necklace would, and you can still use your bow with it since I had a probably very impractical thought that a bracelet could get in the way of that and you’d get hurt somehow.”

Katniss looked up and met his blue eyes, which were wide with anxiety and observing her every move.

“Do you like it?” Peeta finally asked, eyes searching her face as if the answer would be written there.

An idea hit her before she could properly respond. “I’ll be right back,” Katniss blurted out suddenly, and jumped from the couch, darting up the stairs.

If her brain hadn’t been in such a fog these past few days, she would have made sure to stay behind briefly to tell Peeta how much she loved it. She would’ve told him how wonderful and thoughtful this gift was, how hopeful this gift made her feel. At the very least, she would’ve warned him that she wasn’t running away because she was sad, thinking of hurtful memories from their past. But in her current state, once she remembered something, she needed to act on it before she lost the idea entirely.

Not that her gift to him was ever something she could forget. She was just going to wait to tell him. She wanted to make a special moment for it so it could be perfect, at a time when she felt more ready for it. But, she knew if it was her and Peeta, it would be perfect either way.

When she bolted back down the stairs, winded and smiling with her hands behind her back, Peeta presented her with a smile of his own, eyes still wide with confusion and shock and now joy to match her own.

“I have something small for you, too,” Katniss said. She stood in front of him on the couch and placed her gift to him, clumsily wrapped in only tissue paper, in his hands.

Peeta shot her another curious look before tearing the paper away. His eyes went wide when he saw what was in his hands.

“Katniss?” Peeta breathed, her name bearing a question, an answer, a lifeline. “Is this real?”

She barely gave him a nod before he jumped off the couch, laughing and sweeping her into his arms, kissing her face anywhere he could, tears now brimming both of their eyes. Because in his hand he clutched the greatest gift of all: a small plastic test clearly adorned with a dark blue plus sign.

[airandyeah]

Bastard Prince!Gojo X Foreign Princess!Reader Heavy Is The Crown Pt.6

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

You hadn’t expected the snow to fall again so soon.

It danced lightly around you now, flurrying in delicate spirals as you sat beneath the bare-boughed tree in the courtyard. Your gloves were damp, but you didn’t mind. You needed the quiet to think.

Maika’s words echoed still—sweetly laced venom that wouldn’t leave your mind no matter how hard you pushed them away.

You’d let them dig just deep enough to remind yourself of who she was. And what you would one day do to her.

The sound of hurried boots broke your calm.

You turned just as Satoru came into view, shoulders broad beneath his navy and white cloak, hair snow-dusted and eyes wild. He looked like he’d just stormed away from a war.

“Satoru?” you blinked. “What—?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he snapped.

You tilted your head, feigning ignorance. “Tell you what?”

He froze in front of you, breath visible in the cold. “Don’t play dumb,” he bit out. “I know what happened with Maika.”

You lowered your gaze, brushing invisible flakes from your skirts. “It wasn’t worth mentioning.”

“Not worth—” He stepped back, laughing humorlessly. “She humiliated you.”

“She tried,” you corrected smoothly, voice low. “She thinks that makes her powerful.”

Satoru narrowed his eyes. “And you just let it go?”

You finally met his gaze, your voice cool but deliberate. “Satoru, do you think I made it this far by making scenes in gardens and tattling to my betrothed?”

He blinked.

You stood slowly, gathering your skirts. “I don’t need your protection. Not from girls like her. She plays games with gossip and lace. I build empires with words and patience.”

The wind tugged at your hair, and for a moment, something unreadable flickered in his expression.

“You’re not angry?” he asked, incredulous.

“Oh,” you said softly, stepping close enough to brush snow off his lapel, “I’m furious. But I’ll handle it my way.”

His lips twitched into a smirk—impressed, if still a little riled.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.

“And you’re just now figuring that out?”

A beat passed between you, thick with tension, and then his hand found yours without thought.

“Fine,” he said. “You want to handle it your way? I’ll let you.”

“But?” you prompted.

“But next time,” he said, eyes hard, “tell me. I don’t like hearing from servants that someone laid a hand on you.” You leaned in, eyes sharp and teasing. “Then keep your ears open, my prince. There will be more.” ~~~ The knock at your chamber door was barely three raps before a maid burst in, face flushed with excitement.

“They’ve arrived, Princess,” she beamed. “From the boutique in the city.”

You sat up straighter in your chair, the embroidery you’d been pretending to care about falling into your lap. “All of them?”

“Every last one. Dresses, cloaks, boots, and more furs than I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, already rising. “Fetch Satoru.”

The maid blinked. “Pardon?”

“You heard me.” You walked toward the wardrobe, heart light. “Tell the prince his bride demands an audience. I’m about to debut a personal winter collection.”

Fifteen minutes later, he stood propped against your sitting room doorway, arms crossed, grinning like a devil.

“You rang?” he asked, voice thick with amusement. “I was told a fashion emergency required my royal attention.”

You peeked around the changing screen, lips already curling. “Only the highest of stakes. If I look foolish, your court will think I’ve gone mad with color and southern fabrics.”

Satoru groaned playfully. “Spare me the tragedy. Just show me the first one.”

You stepped out slowly, twirling once in a deep plum velvet dress with golden trim at the sleeves and waist. Fur-lined at the shoulders, and perfectly tailored, it hugged you in a way that made his grin falter for half a second.

“Well?” you asked, feigning innocence.

His lips parted, then curled again. “A bit rich for the snow. You’ll melt the icicles.”

You curtsied. “One down.”

By the fourth dress—an emerald green one that made your eyes glow and had him actually applauding—you were both breathless with laughter.

“No, no, no,” he said between chuckles, pointing at the next one. “That fur cape looks like it wants to fight someone.”

“It’s regal!” you argued, spinning with flair. “It says I’ve arrived. And I’m cold.”

He leaned on the back of the couch, watching you dance around the room, cheeks flushed, eyes alight. “You look beautiful in all of them,” he said suddenly, softer than before.

You paused.

Just for a breath.

Then you smirked. “So I’ve won, then?”

He lifted a brow. “You think this is a competition?”

“Oh, Satoru,” you said, walking over and lifting the fur of your current cloak to frame your face. “Everything’s a competition.”

His laugh boomed through the room, genuine and unguarded, and when you sank beside him on the couch, still in your finest dress, you let your shoulder touch his without hesitation.

“What will you wear to match me?” you teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. “I’d never outshine you.”

Your heart skipped, but you only hummed, letting the comfort of the moment settle between you.

Warmth in a cold kingdom. Laughter between two schemers. A crown growing heavier, maybe—but your fire burned brighter than ever.

A knock rattled the chamber door, but neither of you paid it much mind. Not until it swung open, hinges protesting, and your mother stepped in like a storm front—silks swishing, crownlight in her hair, her gaze immediately falling on the scene before her.

You and Satoru froze. His arm was casually draped along the back of the couch behind you. Your shoulder still leaned slightly into his. Both of you still breathless from laughter. A fur cloak still clung to your shoulders like a royal mantle.

Her nostrils flared.

“You aren’t even married yet,” she snapped, eyes narrowing on the space—however small—between you. “You shouldn’t be alone. What will people think?”

You blinked, mouth opening, but Satoru was already rising, hands lifted in mock surrender, his tone careless. “That I have excellent taste?”

Her glare turned icier. “This is not the time for jokes.”

“No,” you cut in gently, standing and smoothing your skirts. “It’s the time for warnings and lectures, I suppose?”

Your mother’s eyes shifted to you, disappointment etched into every angle of her face. “You are still a guest in this palace. And you are not here to play dress-up with your fiancé like some simpering girl from a love story. You are here to represent our kingdom. Do not forget that.”

You swallowed your retort. Barely.

Satoru, on the other hand, was entirely unbothered. “She wasn’t simpering,” he said casually, stepping toward the door. “She was dazzling. Fire, as she promised.”

Your mother exhaled sharply.

“Prince Satoru,” she said crisply. “I trust you understand the importance of propriety.”

He turned back just long enough to flash you a conspiratorial smile. “I do, Your Grace. I just don’t think it suits either of us.”

Then, with a wink only you could see, he was gone.

Your mother stared after him in silence, then turned to you.

“Don’t let yourself be charmed into foolishness.”

You lifted your chin. “I never do.” ~~~ As the door to your chambers clicked shut behind your mother, the oppressive weight of her expectations hung heavily in the air. You stood still for a long moment, fingers tracing the delicate embroidery of your gown, your mind swirling.

But just as you were about to move toward the window, a soft, deliberate knock echoed at your door.

You tensed. Who?

The door creaked open, and a familiar maid stepped in, her eyes lowered in that too-innocent way that immediately set your nerves on edge.

“Your Grace,” she whispered, holding something behind her back. “A message, from Lady Maika.”

Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “And?”

She stepped closer, extending her hand with a small, folded piece of parchment. The seal was unfamiliar—unreadable. You took it from her with a quiet nod.

The maid hesitated for just a moment, then spoke again, voice barely audible. “She said it was urgent… for your safety.”

You swallowed, unfolding the note, and read its contents, your brows furrowing:

"A clever girl, you are. But even clever girls slip. Don’t let your fire burn too brightly, princess. It will get you burned in the end."

Your blood ran cold.

But before you could finish the thought, the maid was already backing out of the room with a shallow bow. The door closed softly behind her, leaving you alone again with the chill creeping in from the winter night beyond.

You felt your pulse quicken, the faintest whisper of fear crawling up your spine. But it was the sly, knowing grin that danced behind your eyes—Maika’s scheming little game—that tightened the knot in your stomach.

Was it a threat? Or just another of her petty games?

Either way, you weren’t about to let her win.

With a quick breath, you turned toward the mirror and adjusted the heavy fur draped across your shoulders, your gaze meeting your own reflection. The fire in your eyes burned brighter now, but the shadow in your heart lingered, a cold reminder that even the brightest flame could be snuffed out.

Taglist: @megumuro , @pickledsoda , @jinjen , @bubera974 Perm Tags: @thenightperson , @makingtimemine

[mousy-nona]

Headcanon that someone asks Alastor for his body count and this confused man replies with some insane number because he thinks they're talking *literal bodies* and doesn't know why everyone is so shocked

“Three.”

“Three?” Angel Dust gaped, looking like he might pass out and die for the second time from sheer shock. Charlie buried her face in her hands, but she couldn’t hide the blush that spread to the very tips of her ears. Vaggie rubbed her back. 

“It’s not that bad,” she soothed. 

“Speak for yourself, Feathers,” Angel Dust spluttered. “Haven’t you been alive, like, hundreds of years? What the hell have you been doing with your life?” 

“Helping people, obviously,” Vaggie snapped. “Maybe you should try it sometime.” 

“Hey!” So fast almost no one caught it, he cast a nervous glance at Husk. “If you’re so much better than us mere mortals, why don’t you share your body count with the class?”

Vaggie raised her chin, her eyes flashing. “Two.” 

Angel Dust choked, wobbled, and flopped dramatically back onto the couch, fanning himself like an overwrought Southern belle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you two were running a convent here!” 

“It’s your turn to share, numbnuts,” Vaggie sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“‘Fraid I can’t count that high, doll,” he grinned. “Lost track a couple years ago. Husk, your turn!” He sounded far too casual, as if he was very eager to hear the answer and was trying to pretend to figure out what the regular amount of eager would be. 

Husk grumbled and set his glass down on the counter. “Fifty?” He shrugged. “Sixty? Somewhere around there.” 

“Finally! A decent number. See, ladies, it’s not that hard once you put your mind to it,” Angel Dust sighed. “Niffty, you go.” 

The tiny reincarnation of chaos giggled, practically vibrating as she licked the tip of the knife in her hand. “Bugs?”

“No, Niff. Your body count.”

She scratched her head, looking adorably confused. “Silly spider! Bad boys can be bugs too.” 

“What–? Actually, you know what, nevermind. It was my fault for asking you in the first place. Okay, who’s left…” He brightened when he spotted Lucifer lounging by the fireplace. “Aha! The Big Daddy himself has gotta have some interesting answers.”

Lucifer chuckled, his chest swelling with pride. “Well, I might have slowed down in my old age, but before Lilith and I started our little family I was quite a killer with the ladies.” He thought for a bit, tapping his chin as he counted. Carry the one, times three… He finally gave up. “Maybe two hundred?” 

“A-ha! Is that it?” Alastor grinned. “And you call yourself the king of hell?”

Everyone gaped. Alastor had almost thrown someone out of the top floor window for accidentally brushing up against his hand. He’d once burned a coat after Lucifer had grabbed it. He only willingly touched others to A) show dominance or B) play mind games (this option he reserved almost exclusively for Lucifer).

In short, he was the absolute last person anyone had expected to participate in this game. 

Angel Dust looked like someone had just told him Christmas had come early. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the strawberry pimp himself! Don’t keep us in suspense. What’s your body count?” 

Alastor thought for a second. “Four thousand and five-six.” 

Six jaws simultaneously dropped to the ground. Lucifer felt the insane urge to fly into his circus dimension and scream until his lungs gave out. A strange green beast clawed at his stomach, and he pressed his hand against it, trying to tame it before he did something truly stupid. 

“Four…thousand?” Angel Dust stuttered. “But…you’ve only been alive for a hundred years?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been busy, I suppose.” 

That was the last straw. Lucifer stormed out of the room. He didn’t think he’d be able to control himself if he stayed. So Alastor’s fine with just anyone? What the Hell am I then, chopped liver? He stopped in the main hall, taking deep breaths in through his nose, then out through his mouth, just like Charlie had taught them during her “How to: Anger Management” seminar. 

“What’s all the fuss about?”

A familiar static ripped through the air. Lucifer scowled. 

“I don’t really want to talk to you right now.” 

“How interesting! I don’t want to talk to you ever, but unfortunately it’s out of both of our hands.” Alastor pretended to inspect his nails. Lucifer knew he was pretending, because he couldn’t see them through his gloves. “Charlie threw me out and told me not to return until I’d checked in on you.” 

Charlie did? Lucifer shivered, pointedly trying not to think about what that meant, and what she might know about his Super Secret, Definitely Not Pathetic crush. “Great. You’ve checked in on me. You can go now.” 

Alastor cocked his head, peering at him curiously. “I must say, I’m rather surprised by your reaction to my confession. Is it really so surprising? I’ve never made a secret of my favorite pastimes.” 

Lucifer gaped. “This is literally the first time I’ve heard you talk about this.”

Alastor frowned. Lucifer frowned. They both frowned at each other. 

“Have you gone senile? I ate a man in front of you yesterday,” Alastor asked, looking at Lucifer as if he’d lost his mind. 

“What does eating a man have anything to do with it?” Lucifer asked, the same expression mirrored on his face. “You just said your body count was –” 

Realization hit him like a freight train. Alastor had been born during the turn of the century. He’d struggled with modern day slang before, like vibes and cap and bet – and body count, it seemed. 

“Are you…are you talking about how many people you’ve killed?” Lucifer gasped, barely managing to get the words out in between laughs. 

“Yes?” Alastor wrinkled his nose. “Why is that so funny?” 

Lucifer thought his sides might tear from how hard he was laughing. “Nothing,” he wheezed. “Nothing at all.” 

Then he immediately started scheming ways to get Alastor's actual body count.

[placeholder-mcd]

(Obligatory "I sound like I'm speaking objectively from authority but this is just my opinion and it's okay for you to like media I dislike for whatever reasons you may have")

Okay so like. while "the minecraft move trailer is so bad that it makes minecraft story mode look good in comparison" is both true and funny, can we please not start pretending that story mode is a well-crafted piece of media. as someone who has played through it multiple times (first when it originally came out and I was 12 and thought it was awesome, then later as an interactive Netflix experience with friends for so-bad-it's-good reasons) I feel pretty qualified to say it blows

Like, yes. There are so many things that MCSM got right that the movie apparently got wrong. But, like, they're all extremely common-sense things to get right -- like having the whole thing be animated, and maintaining a visual style that feels consistent with minecraft, and spending time with individual aspects of the minecraft experience that have their own communities (like redstone contraptions). that sense seems a little less common now that the movie trailer exists, but still, these are all bare minimum expectations of a piece of narrative-driven media set in Minecraft.

MCSM still completely fails, however, to have any compelling characters (RIP Reuben you were just as annoying as everyone else) or non-grating dialogue. The universe they depict isn't even well thought out! Like, okay, example:

Right off the bat, they make a big decision about how they're going to handle MCSM: they are not telling a story about people playing Minecraft the video game, but are instead depicting a universe where Minecraft is inhabited by a civilization of NPCs that have identical abilities to a player (aside from like, pausing the game or changing settings or what have you). This, in itself, is not a bad decision, but it puts the writers in a position where they need to conceptualize what is effectively a Minecraft AU. You're not playing survival mode or creative mode, you're playing Story mode. In this AU, humans exist in the minecraft world and have for a long time (centuries, at least?), they've built cities, they have language, etc. Imagine you're Jesse. Imagine you've grown up inside of Minecraft. Everyone is playing on hardcore, there is no respawning, and you live in a world filled with strange and dangerous creatures that seem hell-bent on killing you. Why the Fuck does anyone go out at night. Why isn't literally everyone combat-trained. Why is Jesse acting like he's never seen a Creeper before. Why is Petra the only member of the main party who knows how to craft a pickaxe.

At the build competition, the party is surprised that the reigning building team has a beacon. But nobody takes a second to actually investigate what that means. Did their team intentionally spawn and defeat a Wither? Doesn't that make them more badass and legendary than the order of the stone? Is there a black market for nether stars? (I think Petra is probably the one who gave them the beacon since she also trades Ivan a Wither skull. But like. Why isn't literally anyone else just going and doing what Petra does. Why aren't they impressed)

Ivan having access to a Command Block is also insane. Like, it has potential to be an extremely cool choice -- did Ivan find a way to break the fourth wall? Did he find an exploit in Minecrafts code that allowed him to obtain this? The command block has the power to just generate resources out of thin air. Ivan could actually use it to become a god and give himself creative mode. But okay, we can assume that the command block is just... Different, in the AU. Fine. It's a computing center / power core for the Wither Storm. Sure

But, like. I, even as an 11 year old, knew everything there was to know about minecraft when I played story mode (and, unlike the Movie, MCSM was actually attempting to appeal to the existing fanbase), so watching these characters who have lived for DECADES within the Minecraft universe just. Be helpless and completely clueless as to how the universe works? It makes me hate like all of them. I don't care about Jesse or Gabriel and if I actually had the freedom to perform the basic actions I could perform in Minecraft -- mining, building, and crafting -- I could use my game knowledge to pretty swiftly end the entire conflict at like any point in the story. And I'm not very good at video games. But I would expect a character who's been LIVING IN THE MINECRAFT WORLD TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT. BECAUSE THEY'D BE BETTER AT MINECRAFT THAN ANY OF US.

The whole thing is a contrived and buggy mess that feels like it was written by a Hollywood CEO who watched someone play the game for 30 minutes, looked up some basic information like how to beat the game and whether there's any in-game lore, and then riffed on that until a script outline was finished. The programmers, visual artists, and composers clearly did a ton of work to make MCSM feel like minecraft. And they did a good job -- clearly, a much better job than the Movie is going to do. But that doesn't change the fact that the Story -- the focal element advertised in the title -- completely misses the fucking mark and centers around a group of characters who are largely incompetent and stupid in an unfunny and uninteresting way. MCSM was a shitty cashgrab by telltale games and I am not apologizing to it.