#surely i could do something better with my time

[militaryapple]

Thinking about how Caleb would react to you moving to your own room after sex when he falls asleep. He wakes up and sees you sleeping in your own room and not with him. him finding out (after basically interrogating her and asking non stop for days since she started distancing herself) mc gets really insecure after sex but she usually stays, just this time she got in her head too much and actually decided to leave 😭

he'd be so sweet :( oh he would shower u with so much love.. my sweet boy caleb aghhh hold me..

wc. 2.4k

was he the problem?

caleb looked at you, dumbfounded almost as he listened to your sweet confession. "i just.." you said softly, "its not you, caleb — just the way ive see other woman, how better looking they are, how you fit so well between them.." caleb could feel his body tense. how could you say such deprecating things about yourself? have you seen yourself? you were perfect to him. other woman didn't stand a chance.

he knew something was up with you. it was like this for a while now, how everytime you both finished having sex; he would fall asleep in your arms just to wake up to you gone. it made his heart drop. how he’d get up to look for you worried, just to find you asleep in your room. his chest heavy watching you curl in your own bed. at first; he thought maybe it was just uncomfortable for you, you two have always slept together but it was intimate and new — you just needed to readjust to it.

then it was again, and again, and again.

then, at some point you two had stopped. there was no intimacy, no sex, not even a glance of love. so.. he thought he was problem. he didn’t press the furthers, why should he? if he was the issue then he should fix it — and quick. after a while he had thought maybe he had became a better version of himself, he learned new recipes, did chores more often than he should’ve, even started to stay home more to stay next to you; ignoring his colonel duties. yet there was no avail.

he needed to ask you what the problem was.

so here you were, telling him everything. how you felt, how ashamed you were in your own skin. his heart ached for you, he could tell you a million times on how pretty you were, how everytime you spoke it seemed like you the sun, or how whenever you looked at him; it was full of pure love. caleb’s hands found their way to your skin, pulling you close.

his hands on the crown of your head before moving down, patting you. his other arm holding you closely — tightly. he wasn’t going to let you go, he couldn’t let you go. “i’m sorry,” he said softly placing a kiss on your head, his hand moving to your face lifting it so you could look at him. his movements with you were gentle, like you were delicate. “you’re so — where do i begin?” he let out a soft chuckle, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“first of all, your beauty is unmatched.” you stood, looking at him while his arms dropped away from you, both hands now cupping your face while he wiped away your tears through your occasional sniffling. “truly, it is. you are like heaven and earth combined, kissed by the gods themselves.” his kisses lowering down, now on your cheek. “your hair is pretty too, yeah baby? all the cute styles you do with it,” he hummed down, now kissing your ears. “how could i forget your lips? yeah? perfect. just for me to kiss.” his words were sweet, reassuring.

caleb kissed you, it wasn’t rushed. he didn’t hope for anything back, it was a kiss to make sure you knew that he loved you. to him you were a jewel; something he should put up to show the world that it’s his. you wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the kiss, your hands finding their way around his body. “ah-ah.” he said softly, pulling away. “we aren’t doing anything if you aren’t ready,” he placed a small kiss back on your forehead, his hands bringing your arm down before intertwining his hand into yours.

his hands moved up to his lips, turning over so he could kiss your hands. "you are perfect." he said softly, you looked up at him. his gaze meets yours. he was real. truthful. there was no hint of mockery or lies behind his beautiful eyes, it made your heart race. "then," you said, eyes moving away from his. "can we.. kiss?" your voice was low. embarrassed. maybe you were so shy because he was quick to take your breath, leaning in and holding you.

you were shy because he guided you to his bed, and laid you down trying his hardest to not separate your lips. you were shy about how between each breath, he made sure that he complimented you. each part of you, "your smile is beautiful," to "your hands are the perfect size to hold". caleb had your grinning ear to ear - making it feel as if it was both of your first times again.

you leaned into his touch, bringing you up and settling you on his lap on top of him. he loved having you in this position, how he could see your face so clearly, how you looked straight at him on his legs while he sat up on his headboard. you pulled away making caleb look at you. "caleb, i really want to," you place your hand on his shirt, pressing down on his body.

fuck you were so sweet for him, you really were. he couldn't help but hold your hand, using his free one to cup your cheek. "you sure?' he looked at you like you were going to break. he was so kind with you, "I don't want to.. just for you to leave me." his eyes fluttered away from you, his cheeks and ears turning red. "at least let me show you how much you mean to me, please? let me love you - worship you." he kissed you again before pulling away.

you couldn't say no, he was like a puppy in love.

it wasn't long until caleb was back to kissing you, his kisses starting at your head, moving down to your cheeks. every time he pulled away he would whisper sweet nothing's to you - making sure you knew that he adored you. you were a woman kissed by the gods themselves and send down to him. how could you feel so bad about yourself when you were so perfect? those women you envy had nothing against you. they were mere peasants compared to you, a princess in all her glory.

you whined, the feeling of his kisses tickling your chin as he continued to press them against you, his hands moving towards your stomach as he lifted your shirt to rub small circles around your stomach, you were quick to move away from him, pulling your shirt down and looking away from him. ah. right, your body. caleb's brows furrowed before leaning close to you. "I love your stomach," he hummed "how easy it is to hold you," he kissed your cheek, your once stilled body leaning closer to him. he took it as a sign to slowly - make his way to your hips.

“how i can kiss it,” you didn’t react to his touch, letting out a small ‘mm,’ in resistance but he stayed firm. he knew you weren’t going to go anywhere this time. “how i can feel you.” his mouth made its way to your lips and you returned the kiss. he carefully touched your stomach, watching your every move. you seemed more comfortable, so he pushed himself a little farther. his hands traced down to your thigh, rubbing it slowly. "caleb," was what you muttered out. oh you sounded so pretty, his name falling from your lips were music to his ears. "what is it baby?" he murmured, his hands rubbing the inside of your thing. "so soft, you know.. i imagine my cock between your thighs, they're so pretty. i cant help but think about how i'll pump into them," his kiss lowering to your neck. you whined at the confession he made, holding to his neck.

his hands slid closer to your cunt, his fingers pressing soft against the fabric of your panties while you moan softly. "yeah? you like when I press riiiight here?" he was precise, his fingers pressing down on your sensitive nub making you twitch in return. you let out a moan, his mouth reaching yours. your kisses now sloppy, messy. "there you go pretty baby, let me make you feel good, let me love you." his breaths turning into moans — feeding into you.

you could only nod, your eyes fighting to stay open. your hips rolling at the feeling of his fingers that rubbed and tickled your nub. caleb’s fingers moved to your panties, pulling on the waistline before down to your cunt. “look at you, so wet. it’s so cute, already eager.” he kissed your cheek, his mouth maneuvering to your ear as he whispered. “deep breath for me baby ‘just wanna make you feel good. okay?” you listened — and before you knew it he slid a digit in your cunt.

he pumped you agonizingly slow, watching your cunt suck him in knuckles deep. you were gorgeous, your moans to your eyes. your flushed face and how you looked at him like he was everything. “you look so pretty like this,” he hummed, his fingers quickening at the sound of your moans before sliding another digit in you. “i can stare at you like this for hours — stare at your gorgeous body.” his free hand sliding up your shirt, cupping your tits while he fondled you.

“so soft” he purred, his mouth now mouthing to your jawline, his fingers both touching and fucking you. you cried holding on to his arm while your legs closed tightly together. that didn’t stop caleb from going faster. his fingers reaching deep into you — making you feel him. “i love you,” he whined, his eyes glossy while looking at you. god, you haven’t done anything to him yet he looks like he’s about to cum. “i love you, everything about you, i want you, i need you.” you fall back on the bed, moaning while you clenched against the feeling of his fingers.

“come on pips, cum for me yeah? you can do it pretty girl,” the words sending a shiver down your spine, your hips rolling at the rhythm his hands rubbed you. it wasn't until a minute later you were babbling sweet nothings, clutching on the sheets of his bed while you moaned out his name. you were pretty little thing. Caleb moved his hand away from your tit, and slipped his fingers away from your pussy. he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "you're doing so well for me, yeah pretty baby? you wanna stop here? i'll run a bath and wash you.." he was cut short quickly, your hand tugging on his arm.

"please," you whined out softly, your hands twitching while you looked into his eyes. he couldn't say no to you, after all you were his prized possession. caleb was quick to tug on his pants, pulling them down and his waist line, his cock pretty - leaking precum while he stared down at you. he lined himself up with your cunt, sliding his tip between your folds. "oh fuck baby," he gasped, eyes fluttering while one of his hands grabbed your arms, holding them down - the other exploring your body.

"I wish you could see just how beautiful you look," he whimpered, "how - mphgh, how good you are for me." his hips thrusted between your cunt, your juices coating him while he let out soft moans and whimpers. "oh god - baby you're perfect, so perfect I love you," he was about to sob with how good you felt. with calebs free arm he held on your hips, his hands memorizing every curve of your body. "just so gorgeous," he groaned.

you sobbed, "please, you're teasing me I can't - I want you." that was all he needed to hear before his cock was shoved deep into you. you groaned, trying to wiggle, yet caleb kept you firm. "fuck, look at you - taking me so nicely." his hips rocking into you slowly, then picking up a pace. you could only cry at the feeling, overwhelming and so fucking good. Caleb moved his hand from your hip to your nub, rubbing in circles. your legs shook before locking around his hips.

god. you were beautiful, no matter how many times he had told you. you were still so gorgeous, he loved seeing you this way. how you moaned for him, and how you held on to him so greedily. he loved feeling you - seeing you. hearing you while he fucked so deeply into your cunt. his hips started to snap against you, making your eyes roll back in response. you were drunk off him, how good he felt inside you.

you hips bucked, rolling at the feeling of him, "m close, please baby," you moaned. caleb could only shudder, his fingers rubbing against you. faster. harder. “yeah baby? come on, cum for me, wanna see your pretty lil face.” he hiccups, his pace destroying you. you couldn’t help but jolt at the feeling. you clenched around his cock, making him moan in response. you couldn’t take it anymore, your hips rolled against his, your legs shaking as you groan. it was bliss — while caleb kept his pace until he couldn’t his hips slamming into yours while he moaned. “fuck, my pretty girl oh my pretty little lady.”

caleb was quick to take care of you, taking you to the bathroom and washing both you and your hair, clothing you and feeding you a quick meal. he even set you down in his bed with fresh new sheets you didn’t even know he replaced. it was time for you both to finally get some shut eye.

caleb laid you down, then lying down next to you. he faced you, holding on to your sides as he rubbed your back under your shirt holding you close. ah, yet you couldn’t help but think about the sex. was he truthful? was he just calling you pretty, or his or gorgeous just because it was the super of the moment? your mind lingered, until caleb placed a small kiss on the crown of your head.

“i’m staying up until you fall asleep,” he hummed. you couldn’t respond. you knew why, he didn’t want you to leave again. not to run away and cry in your bed; calling yourself names that were untrue. “instead,” he said “i’ll spend the entire night telling you more things i love about you. just until i hear that you’re sleep,” his voce was soft. he was gentle. your arms wrapped around him, your face nuzzling itself in his chest while he began to whisper sweet words in your ear.

oh how he loved you. :(

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hiii! can i request a bucky fanfic that takes place in civil war? specifically, the scene where zemo activated the winter solider and he starts attacking the avengers. and the soldier notices reader but for some reason spares her. maybe the reader is also an avenger, and has an established relationship with bucky? thank youuuu, have a good day! <33

Sparing You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers

Summary: Bucky spares you when he’s in Winter Soldier mode.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, language, established relationship, boyfriend!Bucky/girlfriend!reader, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @timmytimberdrake 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

As you watched the camera footage of the room Bucky is in with Zemo, you could tell that something wasn’t right about Zemo. You didn’t need to be in the same room as him to know that.

“Something doesn’t seem right with that Zemo guy.” You say.

Steve nods as he continues to watch the footage. You stood up from your seat and walked over to Steve, standing next to him to get a better look at the screen. As you guys continued watching it, the power went out, confusing everyone. You, Steve, and Sam exchanged looks before making your way to where Bucky is. Bucky wasn’t in the metal pod or anywhere in the room when you guys got in there. Zemo wasn’t on the floor. Steve grabbed him by his jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to him?” You asked Zemo.

“You’ll find out in a moment, Miss. Y/L/N.” Zemo says, smirking evilly.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

How the hell does he know your name?

That’s when Bucky came out of nowhere and started attacking Steve and Sam. He threw Sam against the pod and shoved Steve against the elevator doors hard enough to make him fall through them. Your eyes went wide. That was enough to tell you that Bucky is in Winter Soldier mode. Bucky turned around, accidentally bumping into you. You stumbled backwards, but didn’t fall. You stared up at him, waiting for him to attack you, but he didn’t. He just stared down at you for a few seconds before walking away. Now, you’re confused.

Why didn’t he attack you like he did to Steve and Sam just seconds ago?

You followed him through the building, making sure he didn’t notice you. You hid along the wall that led to a seating area with some tables. You poked your head out to see Bucky attacking the rest of the Avengers.

“Is Barnes in there?” Tony asks from behind you.

“Yes.” You replied.

Tony got his blaster ready and aimed it at Bucky, blasting him. Your eyes went wide when he did that. You watched Bucky approach Tony with a gun.

“Uh oh.” You mumbled to yourself.

You felt like you should do something. You ran out to the seating area before Bucky could shoot Tony. You managed to get the gun out of Bucky’s strong grip. You unloaded the bullets from it and threw it as far as you could. Bucky just stared at you. You gulped, thinking he was going to attack you this time, but he didn’t. He gently moved you to the side before attacking Tony.

“Why didn’t Barnes attack you?” T’Challa asks.

“I-I don’t know.” You replied.

You didn’t let Bucky out of your sight even when after he went after T’Challa. You followed him, keeping your distance. Following him led both of you to the roof of the building. You watched Bucky get on the helicopter and started it. Steve opened the door, entering the roof. You watched Steve run towards the helicopter and grabbed onto it so Bucky couldn’t fly away. He used all of his strength to pull it down. He wanted to stop his best friend before things got worse.

———

Steve managed to get Bucky to an abandoned factory. Bucky was unconscious at the moment. You stared at Bucky while biting your nails as you thought to yourself. You were curious to know why Bucky didn’t attack you when he was in Winter Soldier mode. That’s when it hit you. You and Bucky met during your trip to Romania last Summer. You and him hung out and got to know each other. You two made it official before leaving to go back home. You guys kept yours and his relationship a secret. You hate that you kept this from your friends, especially Steve.

“Y/N, are you ok? Did he hurt?” Steve asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm? Yea, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” You say.

Steve stared at you, studying your body language. He could tell that you were keeping something from him and he’s going to find out what it is.

“Cap, he’s waking up.” Sam says.

You, Steve, and Sam enter the area Bucky is in. Bucky groans as he wakes up. He furrows his eyebrows when he notices that his metal arm is wedged in some kind of machine.

“Steve…” Bucky says, his voice raspy from waking up.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspaper in your shoes.” Bucky says.

“Can’t read that in a museum.” Steve says.

“And now, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam says.

“What did I do?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“Nothing.” You say softly.

Bucky turns his attention to you, smiling when he seen you. Steve looks from Bucky to you, sensing something between the two of you.

“What’s going on between you two?” Steve asks you and Bucky.

You looked at Bucky. He nodded, letting you know it’s ok to tell Steve about yours and his relationship.

“Remember when I went on a trip to Europe last Summer?” You asked.

Steve and Sam nodded.

“Well, I went to Romania for the remainder of my trip and I met Bucky when I was there. Him and I hung out and got to know each other. We made our relationship official before I came home. Him and I kept it a secret.” You explained.

“How long have you two been together?” Steve asks.

“Almost a year.” You tell him.

“A year?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Steve says.

“Don’t get mad at her. I’m the one who said to keep our relationship a secret.” Bucky says.

Steve sighs and puts his hands on his hips, trying to process the fact that you kept your relationship with Bucky a secret for almost a year.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam ask Bucky.

Bucky looks at Sam and nods.

“Why didn’t you attack Y/N when you were in Winter Soldier mode?” He asks curiously.

“I wanted to spare her. Even though all of the programming, I still somehow knew who she is.” Bucky says.

You smiled and walked over to Bucky, giving him a hug.

“I would’ve forgiven you even if you did attack me.” You say softly, gazing in his blue eyes.

Bucky stared in your eyes. He loves how loving you are. He also loves how you can see past his mistakes he made over the years. That’s his favorite things about you. Bucky’s right hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin. He kisses you softly and sweetly. As Steve looks at the two of you and watches the cute moment unfold in front of him, he then realizes that Bucky most likely asked you to keep yours and his relationship a secret to protect you so nothing bad happened to you.

“You guys kept your relationship a secret to protect her, didn’t you?” Steve asks.

“Yes.” Bucky answers softly.

“I didn’t mean to get mad at you guys. It would’ve been nice to know. Just don’t keep anymore secrets from us, ok?” Steve says.

You and Bucky nodded. Now, that you guys talked everything out and got it out of the way, you guys can move forward on the plan.

“I know a guy.” Sam says.

Steve nods, letting Sam know to call him.

“I’ll protect you.” You say softly to Bucky.

“You’re so sweet, doll.” Bucky smiles. “I love you.” He almost whispers, kissing your lips softly.

“I love you too, sweetie.” You whispered back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[adieutristana]

of course! thank you for requesting <3

so i lost this request but did get a screenshot. anyways never tone it down! being sassy is not a bad thing!

summary; headcanons of arcane women with a sassy girlfriend.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest.

tags/warnings; fluff, maybe some crack?, possibly suggestive in some parts, s2 spoilers, reader is feminine/femme, can’t think of anything else

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is right there with you- hello season two.

✧.* she never sees your attitude as a problem, frankly. she's usually the one to be told that she has an attitude problem despite never seeing anything wrong with it. why would she see it as a problem?

✧.* but if anyone else were to insinuate that you had an attitude problem, you need to tone it down, any of that, believe that jinx is jumping in and defending you. both with her words and physically.

✧.* "hey, i'd watch what you're saying," she'd bite, right before whipping out her pistol and pressing the cold barrel to some poor guy's neck. jinx isn't bothered by how his eyes widen, he immediately starts trembling or even his blubbered apologies. "she'll talk to you how she wants to talk to you. got that?"

✧.* seriously, though, i think jinx would consider it pretty fun to have a girlfriend just as, if not more sassy than she is. she’s been told to tone it down, to watch her mouth, but you’ve always understood because you’re the exact same way. and that makes it so much more fun.

✧.* sometimes you guys feed off each other, and jinx finds it one of her pastimes. she's always had a smart mouth, especially when it comes to her sister, randoms in zaun, and topsiders. could you imagine sassing them together? incredible.

✧.* "fancy topsider here- that top's outta season, you know?" you'd giggle, playfully elbowing jinx in the process. it'd earn a laugh from her, though a grimace from said topsider. "i know. you guys are all high and mighty but can't even follow your own rules? please. i could do better tying together yarn."

✧.* and then there's times where someone's getting under your skin, you say something witty back, and she finds herself falling for you all over again. something about a girl who isn't afraid to speak her mind and is confident.. it's so attractive to jinx.

✧.* the fact that you're so confident, you don't give a shit how others perceive you, it's just amazing to her! she loves that you're so sure of yourself and you're not afraid to ruffle some feathers if need be. you're just expressing yourself in the way that works best for you!

✧.* "jeez, toots, do you have any idea how hot that was?" she'd grin, slinging an arm around you and pulling you in close to her side, her lips landing on your cheek in a wet kiss. "all i did was stand up to some dickhead." "still, that was hot! agh, you should've seen yourself!"

✧.* jinx also really loves that you're not afraid of how she perceives you, even though you're in a relationship. jinx is used to people being afraid of her, willing to do anything they can to avoid crossing paths with her. they'll lower their voices around her and try to say things they know will keep them on their good side- but not you.

✧.* and if anything? she finds that intriguing. because she knows you'd never be rude to her or sass her necessarily, but the way you're so confident around her knowing her reputation has her falling deeper and deeper.

✧.* like.. you could just be talking to jinx about something so mundane, and the way you hold your chin up and the tone you use would make her want to jump you and kiss you senseless.

vi;

✧.* are you kidding?? vi would find it so, so attractive! don't know who here has heard of the stereotype of 'femmes with attitude problems' but that's basically what i got from this request, and my god does vi love it. you're not afraid to mouth someone off in a pretty skirt, and that does something to her!

✧.* you could be talking off someone who's annoying you, your tone one that people would usually reprimand all while holding your chin up high, and it would leave vi feeling weak.

✧.* would she want you to be like that to her? depends on the context, usually not- behind closed doors after hours, sure. but gods, just seeing you with your brows furrowed, tossing your hair and crossing your arms while mouthing someone off is just incredible to vi.

✧.* she doesn’t see it as a problem the way she knows others might. while vi sees how it could be a problem, with the way you get yourself into situations with respected figures, she still thinks it’s a good thing.

✧.* vi loves that you’re confident. loves that you’re sure of yourself, and you don’t care what others think of you. she’s confident in her own ways as well- the brawl, the strength. the way she’s built herself out of seemingly nothing. but it’s different when it comes to you.

✧.* vi isn't exactly shy, but she's the more quiet and calm of you. and she likes to have that balance- the one who stays out of the way for the most part, and the one who isn't afraid to cause a stir. the confident one. you bring out each other's strengths and compliment each other.

✧.* “and then, i told him his mother was probably so disappointed when she’d seen how he turned out! and all he had to tell me was to watch my tone. can you believe it?” you’d ask, scoffing with your arms crossed over your chest. “no,” vi would shrug, though she’s honestly too awestruck to form meaningful sentences. “but you handled him well, if that’s all he had to say.”

✧.* vi makes sure to reign you in sometimes though- not because she thinks your attitude is a problem, but because she knows others might and she doesn't want to see things escalate to a dangerous point. it's all out of concern for your safety :(

✧.* "hey, you probably shouldn't be using that tone with her-" "why not?" you'd protest, furrowing your brows. "because she could send people to whoop your ass in minutes. you're right, but she'll just be offended. please."

✧.* she'll never voice her admiration for your demeanor and attitude necessarily, but she has a sneaking suspicion that you already know. it's in the way that she can only stare at you while you're being sassy, the way she's flushed when you're next to her walking like you own the damn city. you may not actually own the city, but you've got that exact hold over vi's heart.

mel;

✧.* i feel like she'd be a bit taken aback at first, usually people are very careful with how they speak to mel. she's one of piltover's most influential figures if not the most influential, a councilor. so seeing your confidence and the fact that you don't really care about making a good impression on her, it surprises mel.

✧.* but that surprise turns into intrigue rather quickly. she's never seen anyone quite like you, and it's interesting. that air about you is something she grows to admire over time, because it's something she's never had.

✧.* mel has to be very careful with what she says, both as a medarda and as a councilor. she has a reputation to keep, and public relations to preserve. so in a way, she admires you for being unafraid to speak your mind. for being unabashedly yourself. she sees something in you that she wishes she had.

✧.* but she isn't jealous! not at all. if anything, she just respects you a lot more for being able to do some of the things she could only dream of.

✧.* and trust me, there are times where she wishes she could tell someone off. wishes she could throw some smartass remark in their face, but she can't because of who she is- and you're more than happy to step in for her. she comes from a prestigious family, but you don't.

✧.* "darling, it's fine, really-" "no. they were messing with you, why would i just let that slide?"

✧.* "hey! you think just because you're a councilor, you can talk to her like that?" you'd scoff, placing your hands on your hips. pressing your glossed lips together in a scowl, while tugging your girlfriend close to you. daring him to challenge you. "and who are you?" "her girlfriend. who are you?"

✧.* while mel won't say anything after the fact beyond shaking her head with crossed arms, she really does appreciate you sticking up for her. she just warns you to not go too far, because it could reflect badly on the both of you in terms of press.

✧.* and seeing you be so confident, so sure of yourself, does inspire mel a good amount. she's always had problems with her perception of herself, having grown up with a mother like hers. finding out that she was a mage didn't help any either, and she's felt lost. but seeing you so secure in yourself, not giving a damn what others think, it makes her think that maybe she could be like that, too.

✧.* not exactly like you, no. you both are your own people, but that's the beauty of your partnership. two people from different walks of life, with different attitudes, who compliment each other. who love each other.

✧.* "and then, i walked off! because who the hell am i to let someone waste my precious time?" you'd scoff, tossing your hair over your shoulder in that dramatic way you often do. all the while, mel is just staring- her hand rested in her chin. "you're awfully cute, do you know that?" and you'd chuckle, placing a light kiss to her cheek. "i do, but it's always nice to hear it from you."

sevika;

✧.* yeah she's smitten. i think at first, sevika might try to act as if she's annoyed by your behavior, but truly, it's attractive to her. your confidence and demeanor is like a magnetic pull.

✧.* sevika is also confident and unafraid, but she's gruff. she keeps to herself, she's more rough around the edges, and she's not nearly as expressive as you are. so it's familiar to her, but your approach is new.

✧.* she doesn't know exactly what to make of you. one of the first times she'd spoken to you out of turn was to let you know- "you're... different. somethin' about you, i've never seen it before. huh."

✧.* though after more time spent with you (though reluctant at first) she grows to accept and even admire your attitude. sevika's never been the most friendly or warm person, but part of her rough demeanor and harsh words are a survival tactic. but for you it comes naturally- your sass and rough words are just a part of who you are.

✧.* and after even more time, i think she'd come to appreciate it. maybe even find it funny. seeing the look on people's faces when some dressed-up girl with her hands on her hips starts mouthing off is pure gold to sevika. they'd underestimated you, and you had no problem putting them in their place.

✧.* there's times you just get fed up, you're not being listened to by someone and it's frustrating. they underestimate you, maybe because you're not as traditionally aggressive as the rest of zaun's folks, maybe because of your appearance. either way, it gets under your skin. "hey! i'm talkin' here, in case you forgot," you'd scoff, snapping in front of the person's face. sevika watches from the sidelines, and she'll step in if she needs to. but she also knows you can handle yourself just fine.

✧.* or there's times where sevika's brought you along to the casino with her. you're sat next to her along with a group of guys from the industry- some old acquaintances, colleagues who had left the world of crime, the like. you're not exactly participating, but you know what's going on. sevika's got these guys in a trap, she always does. she's a damn good player.

✧.* until someone decides he's done with her skills and moves, slamming his deck of cards down on the table. "fuck this, 'vika. you've gotta be cheating, there's no way-" "that she's winning? maybe you just suck at this! ever thought of that, huh?"

✧.* sevika's trying so damn hard to bite back a laugh, but a little chortle does escape her. "the fuck are you laughing at?!" he'd ask, his jaw open in an expression of shock. offense that you'd dare talk to him like that. "you heard the girl."

✧.* the two of you balance each other out that way. the roughened woman on the front lines, who takes no bullshit and fights like no tomorrow- with the headstrong, sassy woman. the one with a pretty face, yet a sharp tongue.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn might be a bit jealous at first. she's got a lot of thoughts, and she's a very opinionated person. she comes from a long line of influential figures, and her role is an important one to the people of piltover. but it's precisely those things that make it so she has to watch what she says. caitlyn can't say exactly what she wants to or means, because she has a reputation to keep and she can't afford to burn any bridges.

✧.* but it's nothing personal, of course, and with getting to know you better that jealousy turns to admiration. she's happy that you're able to advocate for yourself in that way, and that you have some of the freedom she doesn't.

✧.* and her seeing a pretty girl mouth someone off and put her foot down? seeing you know exactly what you're saying, what you're worth, and how to express yourself? yeah caitlyn doesn't have a chance.

✧.* with the amount of opinions caitlyn has and things she wants to say, the thinks that it's good you're outspoken, good that you're 'sassy.' she understands that others may see it as a problem, but she's never gotten that perspective herself. the way she sees it- more power to you.

✧.* "don't hold back," she'd tell you. "if you've got something to say, say it, damn it. it's only too much for people who can't take it."

✧.* the two of you become rather attuned to one another, and it's like you can tell what cait is thinking and vice versa. if caitlyn won't say it, you sure as hell will.

✧.* you'd be observing while at a gathering with your girlfriend, an event with some of the most influential figures in piltover in attendance. she's dressed to the nines, poised and proper in everything she does- though other guests are testing her patience.

✧.* "hey, leave her alone," you'd say, idly twirling your empty glass in one hand. "dunno what you've got going on, but she's clearly not interested in your ideas. i bet she thought of the same thing when she was twelve."

✧.* though the person on the receiving end is flustered and trying to brush off what you've just said, caitlyn is enamored. it's mere seconds before the woman is pulling you into the next room, slamming her lips onto yours. "gods, that was great," she'd mutter between rushed kisses, her arms snaking around your waist. "the look on his face."

✧.* your confidence just makes you all the more attractive to cait. you've got a good head on your shoulders, and you know that. you're damn beautiful, and you know that. there's no beating around the bush, only your shameless expression. it's amazing.

✧.* as far as caitlyn is concerned? she's got nothing to worry about as long as she has you by her side. she knows how to command a room, and you know how to demand one. you're better together!

lest;

✧.* she might be a bit taken aback at first, though it isn't a matter of intimidation. you're just different to lest, and she's not sure exactly what to do with that. she's always been the more peaceful, more observant one. she sits back and does her job while stroking clients' egos and telling them what she knows will make them happy.

✧.* she's expressive, yes, but she doesn't have nearly as much bite as you do. her confidence is something more innate, she just is and doesn't have the same air as you do. but lest does come to appreciate your demeanor and fire for what it is. comes to love it, in fact.

✧.* she's just in awe. you're so beautiful, so confident, but you've got a mouth on you. she's heard what others have said: that you need to know your place, that your attitude is a problem, that you need to watch yourself before you get into some real trouble.

✧.* but to lest, these traits are only something that makes you all the more alluring. the way she puts it, it's as if you've put a spell on her with your words and body language alone. a spell she hopes never wears off.

✧.* she's so in love with the way you carry yourself, and how secure you are within yourself. you don't take shit, that's for sure- whether it's a "hey, i wasn't done talking," or "i know the idea's good, i've only been pushing it this whole time!" the way you know exactly who you are and what you're worth enraptures lest.

✧.* you could be out in public with her, someone casting sideways glances at you for some reason you can't quite figure out- though it doesn't exactly matter. her tail swishing side to side, wide eyes keeping watch of everything around her. though she notices you looking at someone for a bit longer than usual. "everything alright, dear?" she'd ask.

✧.* "yeah," you'd affirm, though you'd be clenching your fists at your side. "just looks like someone has a staring problem. a real bad one." she'd look over to the figure, someone who seemingly doesn't belong here anyways. "i'll take care of him. don't worry about it."

✧.* it's mere seconds before you're marching over to the guy, tapping your foot and telling him off- "do i have something on my face, huh?" "no, i-" "then stop staring!"

✧.* she also comes to learn that you'll step in for her if needed. you never cause any harm- you're sassy, not violent. but if a client is getting a little too demanding with her and you're by her side, lest can count on you to tell them they need to remember she can very easily drop them.

✧.* afterward, you're always quick to tug her close to you, pressing light kisses to her spotted cheeks. "you okay, love?" you'd ask, your voice uncharacteristically tender. "i'm okay, darling, really," she'd affirm. pressing closer to your touch. "but thank you. i probably wouldn't have done that myself."

[raccoon-robyn]

I think that the best villains are ones who you can see where they're coming from. Not in a morally dubious way, but in a way that says "oh. This is how you got to be so incredibly fucked up."

In my mind, the best version of this? Is bnha Tomura Shigaraki. But you have to ignore the ending of the manga

Tomura starts out as a kid who was abused heavily by his dad, and his only respite is his dog. He loves his dog so much, and when his quirk comes in, it decays his dog into ash. And then it decays his entire family, until there is nothing left except for a few hands.

Tomura then is left out on the street, and watches everyone pass him by, cause "surely a hero would save him!"

A hero never comes.

Instead, it's a villain of pure evil.

And he twists tomura into a weapon for All For One's use. He takes away tomuras original name (tenko shimura) and makes it so that tomuras families hands are placed all over his "villain costume". Its a clever bit of morbid symbolism, but it's horrific.

All for one only teaches tomura how to hate, and gives him a butler/caregiver that is a husk of a person who has been programmed to obey tomuras every whim, and take care of him. And I mean every single word of that quite literally.

Tomura has been fashioned into a bazooka at this point. He hates heroes and wants to tear society down, and he will kill anyone who gets in his way.

The only time that he starts to think of how he could do something else is when he gets his band of villain friends, and seems to come to care about them.

Tomura then decides that the best way to get rid of society is to reform it, make it better, and ensure that his friends won't ever be harmed, and that no one is harmed like they were. Of course, he would certainly kill people along the way, after all, revolutions rarely succeed without blood being spilt on the pavement.

Tomura is undeniably evil. He kills and tortures and maims. His first introduction to the series is with him bringing an army of villains to a school and getting them to try and kill a bunch of 14-15 year olds, while him and his butler go after the "best hero in japan" with a super weapon.

However, due to his nuance? You can see where he's coming from, and why he thinks this way.

That's what makes him such an effective character

@nightlilly0110

some of you think ‘nuanced’ only means ‘morally grey’ and I’m here to tell you that actually straight up good characters can still be nuanced and unapologetically evil characters can still be nuanced. the character doesn’t have to be an anti hero or morally dubious to have depth. they don’t even have to feel sorry about their crimes to have depth.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green: Epilogue

masterpost

She didn’t even have the door all the way open before she knew that something was wrong. There was a creeping feeling along the back of her neck that made her reach for the tazer in her bag. Before she would have had a Creep Stick by the door, but she didn’t anymore, not after…

The door hit the wall as she swung it suddenly open. The few photos she had hung up rattled and she winced. Hopefully none of them fell; they were all she had. She tightened her grip on her tazer.

“I know how this looks, but I promise you that we don’t mean you any harm.”

Jazz slowly stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind herself. “I certainly hope that Batman doesn’t mean me any harm or I’ve really fucked up.”

Batman was standing in her tiny apartment kitchen diner. Another massive hero stood next to him, splashed in bold red. She was pretty sure that the one sitting cross legged on her table was Nightwing, leader of the Titans. Which, great, now she’d have to scrub her table. Nightwing popped a jellybean in his mouth. The all-black figure on the counter behind him held the bag of sweets that Jazz had left out earlier that day.

She set her bag down but kept the tazer in her hand. She doubted that it would do anything against the armored suits, but it made her feel better.

“You’re here about them, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Jazz appreciated how direct Batman was.

Nightwing leaned forward. “My team, the Titans, are working on rounding up the last of the GIW. They’ve already taken care of all three headquarters. The Justice League is handling the legal side of it with the US government and the United Nations.”

The relief of the news was so heady that Jazz felt like her knees might go out. “That—that’s good. Thank you. What about…?”

What about them.

It was subtle, but all of the vigilantes but the one in full black tensed. It was Nightwing who forced himself to relax and speak. “We moved on the headquarters first. It seems that there was some attempt at… clean-up of their assets by the GIW. The doctor Fentons are dead.”

“Good,” Jazz bit. It made her gut roil, that she was glad that her parents were dead, but she was.

Nightwing nodded, as if pleased by her fury, and unfurled to rest his feet on the ground. “Why don’t you put the tazer down, and we can talk more.”

Jazz’s hand tightened unconsciously around it.

“Please don’t taze my new family, I want you guys to get along.”

It couldn’t be.

“I mean,” rumbled the one with red, “I hit B with a crowbar the first time I met him.”

“Spoiler threw a brick at Robin’s face,” said the one all in black. “Tim Robin.”

“Okay, that tracks. But still don’t taze them, please?” Danny asked. Danny who stepped forward between the two looming figures. Danny who was there with black hair and blue eyes and breathing. Danny who was alive.

Suddenly Jazz didn’t think she could breathe anymore.

Danny was alive.

“Your hair has gotten long,” Jazz felt herself say. What a stupid thing to say, but it had. It brushed the top of his shoulders and framed his face in a way that he almost looked like a different person. But Jazz knew her brother, new scars and all. God, there were so many scars. “I thought, I thought you were dead. Deader dead. I thought they had—”

“Nearly,” Danny said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted nervously. “I escaped. I didn’t know where you were, but I found out in their notes that I was, that, um…”

Danny glanced up at Batman, who reached up and pulled down his cowl. Like it was nothing. Like Jazz was just someone who was supposed to see the face under it. It only took a second to get why. It was older and harder in its line’s, but she’d seen that face almost every day of her childhood. It was Danny’s face.

“How…?”

“Cloning and a really long story,” Danny said. “I got to them about six months ago, but the GIW was still around. It wasn’t safe for me to come to you or let you know I was alive in case they were watching you and I wanted to Jazz, I did, but—”

Cutting her brother off, Jazz rushed forward. The heroes all tensed. Danny met her halfway into a crushing hug.

“Hey, sis,” he whispered into her shoulder. He was still so small, just like she remembered him.

“Hey, little brother,” she sobbed.

[alchemistc]

He'd had a dream about this, once. Sweat still cooling, sheets tangled at his feet, a view of Eddie Diaz's bedroom ceiling.

Sue him - Tommy's not the first guy who ever had a raunchy dream about a straight friend. For a few weeks there, both Diaz and Evan Buckley had featured heavily in his rotation. And then Evan had tried to murder his best friend and Tommy had kissed him about it and now...

Tommy shifts his weight. Slides his hand across the sheets - Evan's sheets, still familiar even if the location has changed. Christ, why had Eddie never scraped the popcorn off his ceiling? It's an easy job, really, even if it is painfully boring and time consuming, he could -

The hand that curls around his neck, just under his jaw, is light, careful, still possibly covered in Tommy's cum.

"I missed you," Evan says, and Tommy feels the panic bubbling under his skin, a miasma of humming thrumming reminders that this had been a bad idea from the start. That "randomly" running into his ex three shots deep at the bar had been one of his shittier plans, fueled by his own tipsy jealousy at seeing Evan's drinking partner grinning at him for a good hour while Tommy got progressively worse at pool.

He opens his mouth to let Evan down. He can't do this There's no world where this changes anything. For Christ's sake, he'd only done it because the possessive monster inside of him had heard Evan introduce him to Ravi Panikkar as 'my... Tommy' and the rest of his brain had left the fucking building.

"Everything is so screwed, Tommy. Eddie, and Maddie, and - I just. I want to work on this. I want - I know I didn't say it right before, but everything went to shit that day and if we could just..."

He's always done this. Fucked Tommy to the brink of brainlessness and then proceeded to talk a mile a minute like the sex they'd had was inspirational and energizing. Tommy'd been endeared by it from the start. He still is.

He fucking hates that.

"I can - we can go slow. You set the pace, Tommy, I promise."

"Buck," he starts, and everything in Evan shuts down all at once.

He's done a poor job of keeping that line drawn in his own head - all these months later and he still thinks too much about him, still thinks of him as Evan, and it's a shitty thing to do when they're both fully aware that it's something of a treat for both of them - that name that's been mostly Tommy's since the day Buck found himself at the academy with three Evan's and grinned his way through a nicknaming process.

Evan's hand unfurls from its spot, fingers slipping from where they'd been working at his earlobe. He's gone from soft and pliant glued to Tommy's side, to stiff as he rolls away, sheets travelling with him, and Tommy doesn't fight it when they shift free of him, leaving him bare as the day he was born.

At least he's got his trusty fucking walls. Those at least will keep Evan from glancing up and seeing him break his own heart in two twice over.

Evan rolls to a sit, heaves his legs over the bed. In the soft light Tommy can map out the constellation of moles on his curved back as he drops his head into his hands.

The silence is deafening.

"I, uh ... I think you should go?"

Tommy's certain he doesn't mean for it to sound like a question. He's also certain Evan Buckley has never once in his life been anything but a novice at hiding emotion in his face, body language, voice.

He's pretty sure they could do this a hundred times and Evan might just let him.

Tommy doesn't speak as he gathers his clothes. Doesn't speak as he steals furtive glances around the hem of his T-shirt, doesn't speak as he realizes he didn't even make time for cleanup so he's definitely driving home with the evidence of this night still fucking on him.

Evan's still cradling his head in his hands when Tommy shoves his foot into a boot, not bothering with laces because maybe he'll just fucking trip on the curb and fall into oncoming traffic. It might be the better option.

"I'm -."

"Don't," Evan says, just loud enough for Tommy to know he's barking around a phlegmy throat. "This is worse, just so you know. It was already bad, Tommy..."

Tommy expects there to be more, but there isn't anything. Evan's shoulders heave, and Tommy grabs his keys and phone off the side table, and he blinks and he's somehow out the door, eyes stinging and blood rushing in his ears and he honestly shouldn't be driving but he's not gonna leave his fucking truck here.

He's not entirely sure how he makes it home. He comes back to himself with scalding hot water washing away the evidence of his fuck-up, throat sore and jaw tight and his phone blowing up on the bathroom countertop.

He shouldn't feel the vindication he does that at least this time he milked enough emotion out of Evan to make him send fourteen - his phone buzzes again - fifteen texts in a row.

He feels it anyway, and just to dig the knife deeper into his own chest he shuts his phone off for the night the moment he's towelled himself dry.

Tomorrow. He'll figure it out tomorrow.

He's been telling himself that for five months - a year - his whole fucking life. Maybe one day he'll be telling the truth.

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Her Office

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: Wanda tried to get to know you a bit better before you start working together but an innocent question bring out painful memories.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), Past verbal and physical abuse, Slight hinted at homophobia, Mommy issues bc i have them too, power imbalance?

A/N: sorry this took so long. uni is really kicking my butt right now and just when i thought i'd have time to write my research supervisor gives me a 400+ page book to read.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me… and for my sister!” Pietro joked as he helped you clear out your desk. You’d made yourself at home over the past few months working for him. You were sad to be leaving but excited to be working for Wanda, also incredibly nervous, like throw up into the recycling bin near the printer nervous. Not that that had happened of course.

“But seriously, we are going to miss you down here. Don’t go forgetting about us.” He patted you on the back handing you the last of your stuff.

“How could I forget you? I’ll be down here like every other day wont I? Wanda visits all the time.” you reply with slight confusion. Wanda was always coming down to check on things, like she must do with all the departments. You assumed most of your job would be to accompany her many visits around the building. Staying close and taking notes on what she says like you’d seen Theo do.

“Yeah, she definitely was just coming down here for routine check-ins.” Pietro mumbled with the faintest air of smugness of someone who knows something you don’t has. Before you could register what he said, the doors on the far side of the room swung open and in came Wanda.

 Her stride exuded confidence as she made her way over to you and your now empty desk. Her hair was slightly messy, shirt untucked, and instead of her usual high heels she wore flats.

“Got everything?” She sounded short of breath, like she had just been running. “The elevator to my office is being inspected so we’ll have to take the stairs.” Without another word, Wanda started walking back towards the door pausing to look behind her when she sensed you hadn’t moved. “Come on those 15 floors won’t climb themselves.” Suddenly her slightly dishevelled appearance made sense. You took a deep breath and gave one last look at Pietro, who seemed to be going to great lengths to not laugh at his sister, before following Wanda.

The stair well was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. Tall grey brick walls and bright white lighting. It seemed to also double as extra storage space judging by the stacks of boxes and pallets back here. You only seen them briefly while getting your monthly fire safety talks from a very unenthusiastic Dr. Banner, who once again felt the need to remind the group he had much more important things to be doing than this. As much as you found the man funny, he’s short temper made him a little scary at times.

People yelling had always been something you weren’t fond of. Your mom had always been so angry with you for not behaving like she wanted. The constant being told to sit, speak, and act ‘like a lady’ throughout your childhood had led to so many arguments. Femininity was just something you never had an interest in and the pressure to fit in from your family only made you reject it harder.

This never made the yelling easier, instead it had only made you desperate to avoid that sort of conflict. Wanda yelling the other day had scared you in a way you hadn’t felt since you were a child, and you were now desperate to make sure you were never on the receiving of her rage.

“Y/n, careful.” You had been so lost in thought you’d missed a step and stumbled forward. Wanda who had been talking non-stop about how inconvenient the elevator maintenance was stopped to help you pick up some pens that had fallen from the box you were carrying. “Do you need some help with that? It looks heavy.”

You saw this a challenge.

“No I’m fine, I’m very strong.” Wanda gave you a smile as she placed the pens back into the box touching your hand as she pulled away before turning around to continue climbing the stairs. Your face immediately flushed red.

“Only 4 more flights to go.” Her voice echoed off the bare walls was she turned another corner. You let out a sigh, the box was actually really heavy.

Once in her office you placed the box on an empty desk in the corner of the room. It was pushed up to the window and gave you an amazing view of New York. It was only then you realised how high up you were.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wanda came up behind you making you jump slightly, all this achieved was making the red head chuckle slightly. “You’re so jumpy you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You gave a small smile. Being alone with Wanda was terrifying and exciting all at once. The reality of the situation hadn’t really sunk in till just now. It was going to be the two of you, alone, very often from here out.

“Can I ask you something?” You nervously asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt not daring to look Wanda in the eyes. Her beautiful green eyes.

“Of course you can, darling.” Her final word rattled about in your brain momentarily making you forget what you even wanted in the first place.

“What you said, before,” Finally a coherent thought, “about wanting me, from the start. Was that true?”

“Yes, why would I lie.” Wanda raised an eyebrow giving you a no-nonsense look that you couldn’t if it was fully serious or not.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just, why didn’t you? You know, pick me the first time?” It was definitely a word salad that came out your mouth, thank God you were better at writing than speaking. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry…” you added after Wanda took a second to respond.

“No, no, don’t apologies…” She took a deep breath as if debating what to say. “That first day, I thought you had potential,” she began, clearly choosing her words carefully, “I just wanted to, see if you had what it takes to you know, be mine.”

“Be… yours.” The words caught in your throat as swallowed hard, struggling to speak.

“Be my intern, my assistant.” Wanda rushed to clarify but something inside you felt like her previous words were more honest. Not that you would dare push her on it. “And being my intern comes with a lot of responsibility, so I hope you are ready.”

“Yes ma’am.” You say saluting the older woman, who found the action quite amusing. “What do you need me to do first?”

Turns out Wanda didn’t want you to do anything just yet. Instead the two of you sat across from each other in the strange living room area of her office. Wanda lent back into a large leather armchair while you sat on the edge of the couch, almost velvety, black sofa.

She offered you a tea or coffee but instead you opted for the remnants of the energy drink you had tried to chug on the train this morning. Your choice in beverage clearly wasn’t approved by Wanda but she did little to stop you besides remind you of their negative health effects.

She asked you questions about yourself, clearly wanting to get to know you better but you held back from answering her questions too honestly, scared of being fired or disappointing her which was somehow worse in your head. They were all basic questions, and you asked some back at her.

She wanted to know about your favourite meal, how to you travel to work, where are you staying, and when you were going to get some proper work shoes. Your real answer being when they made comfortable ones but instead you opted to say when you get your next paycheck.

Then she asked something that caught you completely off guard. “How is your relationship with your family?”

“My family?” You repeat to make sure you were hearing things right.

“Yes, your family, you are one of the only interns not from a known family in the city, you mentioned you aren’t from New York originally, they must be proud of you?” Wanda spoke with a warm smile.

You hadn’t noticed but during the conversation you had leant back into the couch. It was like she had given you permission to relax for a change. You didn’t understand why but talking with Wanda made you feel comfortable, almost too comfortable at times making you need to remind yourself she was your boss.

“They umm,” your mind went to the argument you’d had with your father when you told him you were going to university miles away, almost across the entire country, “can we talk about something else.” Your voice shook slightly at the memory.

How angry he’d been, how angry he always was. The same with your mother, always so resentful, never protecting you from him. You spent your first semester coach surfing with a black eye till you had enough money to afford to rent a shitty little apartment.

“Sweetie, it’s okay.” Wanda had seemingly caught on that something was wrong and moved to sit next to you on the couch. She placed her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug that made your whole body tense. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen your grades and watched how hard you work. I’m proud of you y/n.” Her voice had the same warmth as earlier, it was sickeningly genuine to you.

All you wanted to do was melt into her arms, but you couldn’t this was your boss. She was just being nice, there was no way she would let you get that close to her under regular circumstances. You told yourself you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. You’d seen how ruthless she could be, and it terrified you to think of being on the receiving end. Catching feelings would just make your eventual fuck up ever worse.

Besides there was no way in hell CEO Wanda Maximoff, multimillionaire Wanda Maximoff, Old enough to be your mother Wanda Maximoff would ever have feelings for you in return.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You stood up as quickly as Wanda grip on you allowed. “Sorry.” You hurried to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, locking the door behind you before allowing yourself a moment to cry.

Cruel words from you parents fought the gentle reassurance Wanda had given you. You took a moment to collect yourself. Taking several deep breaths and trying to get rid of the redness in your eyes with a little cold water from the tab.

The bathroom, like everything in Wanda’s office screamed sophistication. The mostly white tiles with the smallest hint of red complemented the plush red hand towels, and several well looked after plants littered a shelf above the toilet. Most surprisingly was the shower and clawfoot tub in the room. Did she actually use them? Or where they just there because they could be?

Finally you were ready to leave the bathroom, stepping out you saw Wanda quickly look away from your direction. Had she been watching the door the whole time?

“Y/n, feeling better?” you gave a weak nod. “Good, right back to business then, first order is sorting out… this.” She pointed towards you clothing. Since Pietro had never required you to dress professionally, you had never updated your wardrobe. You wore the same baggy, teen boy esc clothing you always did.

“Yeah, I thought that would be a problem, sorry about the way I dress. I just…”

“No I like the way you dress.” Wanda cut you off. “I mean, you dress fine, it’s just not… appropriate if you are going to be accompanying me to important meetings and such.” You couldn’t tell if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn you saw a small blush creep onto the older woman’s face.

“Right, there should be a measuring tape in the third draw of the left cabinet in my office. I have some work to get on with you can’t help with.” Wanda began quickly pressing the button of the, hopefully, now working lift.

“I want you to measure yourself and note it down. I’ll sort you out some more work appropriate clothing.” Before you could ask any other follow up questions the doors to the lift opened and she rushed inside, disappearing almost immediately.

Walking into Wanda’s office you looked out at the city, everything seemed so quiet, so still from all the way up here. Grabbing the measuring tape you sat down at your desk, getting your phone out to look up exactly what measurement you need to give her. You’d never had to think about measurements when buying clothes before. Your face flushed a bit think about the idea of Wanda choosing you some clothes. Hopefully she wouldn’t put you in a pencil skirt, or God forbid heels.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter @htinha157 @the-falling-avenger @reginassecretlover @canyonyodeler @mrsromanovaa @loneliestafterparty @imawandasimp @caramelcat123 @marvelwomen-simp @reginassweetheart @unadulteratedballoonduck @kei034 @coollemonsaresour 

[sirswooshnoodles]

I’m getting there

I used to be quite scared of spiders but then I decided to find out why and since there isn’t good reason I worked on getting over that fear.

I’m still a fucking coward, but I’m a coward who sees spiders and gets the same cuteness induced butterflies for them that I get for puppies and kittens. I’m a coward who holds wild spiders and wishes I could hug them without smushing them even though I’m scared of getting bit, cause that would be ouchy.

I fucking love isopods man, they are the cutest little shits ever. You can just hold them. Some are shy and stay curled so you put em back. And some come out and start crawling all over and it’s fun.

Bugs are super cool!!

If you’re struggling to get rid of unfounded dislike for bugs, start with the pretty ones and the cute ones, things like butterflies that are super colorful and fun. It takes time to change the way you think, my spider journey took about two years.

If you first thought upon seeing a bug isn’t neutral or positive, call yourself out on it. Just in your head is fine! That’s how you start. You think “gross” and then tell yourself, “no not gross”. Try and find something cool about the bug, look at Wikipedia articles (they don’t have many pictures usually, so you can start slow!)!! When you’re ready browse the subreddits that are positive towards them like r/invertpets and r/spiderbro to look at pics and positive comments about them!

And of course make sure you know what’s dangerous before interacting with wild critters. Black widows actually avoid biting but we still should leave them alone, for their sake and ours. Most spiders I hold are ones I’m taking outside bc my mom doesn’t like them (though she’s doing a bit better!)

you guys Need to start seeing bugs as animals im not even joking anymore. the second u start seeing them as tiny animals the more your world opens up and the more you accept different types of life Into that world. youll begin accepting that even life you cant understand is still worth living. and itll legitimately make you a better person. fuck

[heliosunny]

Could I please request yandere lucky egg for zhongli or capitano? (Capitano plsssssssssssssss)

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Capitano x Reader

You stared at the unmoving egg in your hands, brows furrowed.

It had been three days. Three days of waiting, watching, and even whispering to it—just in case. But nothing. No signs of life, no cracks, not even a single wobble.

“…Maybe it’s just a weird rock?”

Still, your curiosity refused to let you throw it away. It was heavy, warm, and honestly, something about it unsettled you. But that wasn’t going to stop you from testing a theory.

So, with the kind of logic only sheer boredom could provide, you set up a pan, turned on the heat, and carefully placed the egg in.

The moment the pan got hot, the egg shuddered.

You barely had time to register that before a deep crack split the shell.

“Oh, fu—”

BOOM

A sudden explosion of dark energy sent you flying back, only for something much heavier to crash directly on top of you. You gasped as your back hit the floor, and a wave of heat radiated from the figure pinning you down.

Blinking through the daze, you found yourself staring up at a man—tall, broad, and very much not an egg.

“You… were trying to cook me?”

Instead of replying, you asked him multiple questions.

"Who are you?"

"Where did you come from?"

"Why were you in an egg?"

But all you got were vague, unsettling responses.

"I don't remember much" he admitted, adjusting the gloves on his hands. "Only that I was waiting... for you."

That didn't make you feel any less concerned.

After some back and forth—mostly you trying to make sense of things while he kept staring at you like you hung the stars—you decided he needed a bath. He was covered in remnants of whatever strange energy surrounded him when he hatched, and honestly, you needed a moment to process everything.

You directed him to the bath and handed him a towel and some spare clothes.

"You wish for me to cleanse myself?"

"Uh, yeah? Unless you want to keep smelling like a burnt egg."

"As you wish."

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him. His wet hair clung to his skin, and the loose clothing you lent him only made him look more dangerous, less armored but no less imposing.

However, your eyes quickly caught on to something—his hand. A fresh wound, jagged and slightly bleeding, marred his palm.

"Wait, you're hurt."

Before he could react, you grabbed a first-aid kit and motioned for him to sit. He obeyed surprisingly easily.

"You shouldn’t ignore injuries, you know." you muttered, wrapping the bandage snugly around his hand.

The entire time, he didn't flinch. If anything, his focus was solely on you.

"You care for me"

"Yeah, well, you did just hatch out of an egg in my kitchen."

As you finished bandaging his hand, your gaze drifted to his long, damp hair. It cascaded over his shoulders in dark waves.

"You should tie your hair up" you suggested, reaching for a hair tie. "It'll get in the way otherwise."

He studied you for a moment before giving a nod.

You weren’t expecting him to be so agreeable, but you took the chance to gather his hair and carefully tie it back.

Once done, you stepped back, admiring your work. "There. Much better."

He lifted a hand to touch his tied hair, then let out a hum of approval. "I’ll allow you to tend to me as you see fit."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, lucky me."

But deep down, you weren’t sure if bringing another person into your life was a good idea. Your job already kept you busy enough, and now you had to deal with… him.

For now, though, you decided he could stay. At least until you figured out what exactly he was.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted your best friend, Jollie.

You: Hey, uh… I just hatched a grown man from an egg.

Jollie’s reply was almost instant.

Jollie: I’m sorry, what.

You: Long story. He’s got long hair, and I tied it up, but you’d probably do a better job. Wanna come over later?

Jollie: I’m dropping everything. Be there soon.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. You had no idea how you were going to explain this, but at least you wouldn’t be dealing with it alone.

An hour later, Jollie arrived, practically bursting through the door.

"Alright, where’s the egg-man?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

You gestured toward Capitano, who sat stiffly in a chair, watching her with unwavering intensity. He had barely moved since you last spoke.

"Huh. Wasn't expecting him to be this tall."

"Yeah, well, try convincing him to let you cut his hair."

Jollie smirked and pulled out her scissors. "No problem. I deal with stubborn warriors all the time."

The moment she stepped closer, however, Capitano’s demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, and his presence became suffocating. He didn’t move, but the threat was clear.

Jollie froze mid-step. "...Okay, never mind. Not a fan of personal space being invaded. Got it."

"Capitano-that's what he called himself-, she’s just going to clean up your hair." you said

His gaze flickered to you, and after a long pause, he finally relented. "...Fine."

Jollie sighed in relief and got to work, carefully trimming the ends to keep it neat without taking too much off. But the real shock came when she snipped a slightly longer piece—only for it to immediately grow back.

You gawked. "Wait, what?"

Jollie stepped back, staring at the scissors like they betrayed her. "Well, that’s new."

Capitano, completely unfazed, turned his attention back to you. "I prefer it when you tie my hair."

"...That doesn’t explain why it grew back instantly!"

"It just does."

Jollie let out a whistle. "Man, if I had hair like that, I’d never have to worry about bad hair days."

While she finished up, Capitano’s sharp eyes suddenly landed on the ring on her hand. He studied it for a moment before speaking.

"What is that?" He motioned toward the ring. "And where can I get one?"

Jollie blinked, then laughed. "This? It’s a wedding ring. It means I’m married."

Capitano turned to you, "...And if I wanted one?"

"What—"

Jollie smirked, already sensing way too much in his tone. "Oh? Thinking of proposing already?"

Capitano didn’t answer. He just kept his gaze on you, as if calculating something.

You groaned, covering your face. "I should’ve left you in the egg."

---

Being a chef meant you spent most of your time in the kitchen, away from the bustling tavern floor. You only stepped out when a guest specifically asked to meet the person behind their meal. Over time, you’d gathered a few fans—regulars who praised your cooking a little too enthusiastically. It was flattering, sure, but you never thought much of it.

Capitano, however, did.

You had insisted he stay home, especially since he still didn’t fully understand how things worked around here. But come evening, when Jollie arrived to pick you up after your shift, Capitano had tagged along.

A small group of guests had gathered around you near the kitchen entrance. One leaned a little too close, complimenting your skills with an almost flirtatious edge.

"You know, if you ever get tired of cooking here, I’d love to have a personal chef like you"

Another chimed in. "Seriously, your food alone is worth traveling back for. But the chef themself? Even better."

You laughed, waving off the comments. "Alright, alright, I get it. You like my food. Now eat before it gets cold."

That was when you felt it—an oppressive weight in the air.

Capitano was watching.

Jollie was the first to notice,"Uh, you might wanna do something before he commits a crime."

You turned just in time to see him striding forward.

The guests, oblivious to who exactly he was, paused as he loomed behind you.

Capitano's hand suddenly found your waist, pulling you firmly against him.

"You belong to me."

Jollie sighed, already sensing the storm brewing. "Welp. That’s my cue to drag him out before he starts growling."

The moment you stepped outside the tavern, Capitano was still brooding. His grip on your wrist hadn’t loosened since he practically dragged you away from the guests.

Jollie, walking beside you, let out an exhausted sigh. “You have to do something about him, or one day, we’re gonna find your guests mysteriously missing.”

“Alright, what the hell was that?”

“They were too close.”

“That’s not a crime, Capitano. People like my food. That’s it.”

“They like you.”

“Oh, wow, what a shocking revelation. People like the person who feeds them.” You yanked your wrist free and turned to face him fully. “Listen, I cannot have you acting like that in my workplace.”

“I work in the kitchen. That means I only come out when needed. If people start thinking I have some jealous, looming bodyguard around, it’s gonna ruin everything. What if my boss bans me from interacting with guests? What if people stop coming?”

You didn't finish.

“And if that happens? We starve. I lose my job, I can’t buy food, and you can’t mooch off my cooking anymore.”

For once, that actually made him pause.

Jollie snickered. “You should’ve just led with that. Man eats like he’s preparing for war.”

You crossed your arms. “So? Are you gonna stop being like that?”

“...I don’t like them looking at you.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to tolerate it.”

“…Fine.”

Jollie gave you an impressed nod. “Damn. You actually tamed him.”

“Let’s just get home before he finds something else to be mad about.”

That night, as always, Capitano laid beside you, his hand firmly clasped around yours. You had no idea why he insisted on holding your hand in his sleep, but the few times you tried to pull away, he would stir, grip tightening as if you were the only thing anchoring him. Eventually, you just gave up and let it happen.

Jollie, of course, was horrified when she found out.

“You what?” she practically screeched when you mentioned it the next morning.

“It’s not like that! He just—he won’t sleep unless I’m there.”

Jollie gave you the most skeptical look. “Oh sure, totally normal. Just a grown man who hatched from an egg refusing to sleep unless he’s holding your hand.”

“I tried to sleep separately, but he wouldn’t let go.”

Jollie sighed, shaking her head. “This guy is down bad.”

You ignored her teasing, but you did realize something—Capitano still didn’t have proper clothes. Up until now, you’d just been giving him whatever you could gather—old clothes from friends, random pieces from your closet. He didn’t seem to care what he wore, but still, you figured it was time to fix that.

So, on your next free day, you took him shopping.

The marketplace was lively, filled with stalls of various goods, but you were focused on getting Capitano real clothes. You led him to a clothing stall, where a gorgeous woman greeted you with a warm smile.

“Welcome! Looking for something specific?”

You paused, briefly stunned. Wow. She’s hot.

You glanced at Capitano, then back at the woman. Wait. Wouldn’t they look good together?

Grinning, you nudged him. “Hey… you like her, huh?”

He said nothing. Didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he just stood there, waiting.

“Wow. Tough crowd.”

Shrugging, you began picking out clothes for him. Every time you held something up, he took it without complaint and changed into it. You threw jackets, shirts, pants at him, fully expecting him to reject something—but he wore everything you recommended without hesitation.

The shopkeeper laughed. “Most guys are picky, but he’s letting you dress him up like a doll.”

“You’re really just gonna wear whatever I tell you to?”

“If it pleases you.”

After a long shopping trip, you finally settled on a decent outfit for Capitano. A dark coat with fitted sleeves, a high-collared shirt, and well-tailored pants—it suited him.

You gave him a once-over. “Huh. You actually look… handsome, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Don’t push it.”

With that done, you figured things would return to normal—well, as normal as they could be with an egg-man living in your home. But something kept nagging at you.

His wound.

Ever since you first bandaged his hand, it hadn’t healed. You had to change the bandages often, and while he never complained, it was weird. Even small cuts should’ve at least started closing by now.

As you carefully replaced the bandage that evening, you frowned. “This should be gone by now.”

“It does not pain me.”

“That’s not the point. Why isn’t it healing?”

He was silent for a long moment before murmuring, “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t remember.”

Something about the way he said it made you question if that was true—or if he was just refusing to tell you.

----

At first, having an intern wasn’t so bad. Lirienne was quick to learn, efficient, and didn’t need much guidance. You figured training her would be easy—maybe even helpful in the long run.

What you didn’t know was that she had other plans.

She wasn’t here to assist you. She wanted to replace you.

Of course, you didn’t notice at first. You were busy keeping the kitchen running, ensuring everything was perfect. But Capitano? He noticed.

He had already become your unofficial shadow, lingering around the kitchen even when he wasn’t supposed to.

And that’s how he caught on.

“Lirienne, be more careful next time. If I hadn’t caught that in time, the dish would’ve been ruined.”

She bowed her head slightly, expression apologetic. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that happened. It won’t happen again.”

You sighed, waving it off. “It’s fine, just focus.”

Lirienne was careful, never making obvious mistakes, but Capitano saw the small things. Ingredients placed too close to the fire. Unstable stacks of plates positioned near the edge of counters. Subtle miscalculations in orders that could be blamed on you.

She was setting you up.

And though you remained oblivious, Capitano was already planning how to deal with her.

“She’s setting you up.”

You paused mid-motion, turning to him. “What?”

“The intern.” His voice was certain. “She’s creating accidents and letting you take the blame.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would she—”

“To take your place.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way he looked at you made you hesitate. Capitano wasn’t the type to make baseless accusations.

“Do you trust me?”

Capitano had been by your side since the day he hatched. He didn’t lie. If he said something, he meant it.

“…Yes” you admitted.

“Then be careful.”

You wanted to believe Lirienne was just clumsy. That she was just adjusting to the kitchen.

But if Capitano was right, then this was only the beginning.

Days passed, and despite Capitano’s warning, you tried to convince yourself that things weren’t that bad. Sure, Lirienne was suspicious, but outright trying to sabotage you? Maybe Capitano was being overprotective.

That illusion shattered the night you were walking home.

The streets were quieter than usual, the distant hum of taverns and late-night chatter fading as you took your usual route. You were halfway there when two men stepped out of a nearby alley, blocking your path.

You stopped “Can I help you?”

They didn’t answer. One of them took a slow step forward, cracking his knuckles.

“You’re the chef from that tavern, yeah?”

You took a cautious step back, but before you could turn, they lunged.

And then—a blur of movement. A rush of wind.

The next thing you knew, a broom had swung through the air, slamming into one of the men’s heads with enough force to send him stumbling. The second man barely had time to react before Capitano spun the broom in his hands like a trained weapon, jabbing the handle hard into his stomach. The man doubled over with a wheeze before Capitano kicked him to the ground.

The first guy tried to reach for a hidden knife. Capitano didn’t give him the chance. With a sharp twirl, the broom’s bristles smacked him across the face, sending him crashing onto the pavement.

“Are you hurt?”

“You—with a broom?”

He looked down at the slightly crooked handle, then back at you. “It was within reach.”

These guys weren’t random muggers. They knew who you were.

And if Capitano hadn’t been here…

Capitano didn’t need to hear you say it—he knew what you were thinking. He could see it in the way your hands clenched, in the furrow of your brow.

You were worried. And that was unacceptable.

So, while you slept that night, completely unaware, Capitano made his move.

Stalking wasn’t new to him. Tracking someone’s habits, their movements, their weaknesses—it was as natural to him as breathing. Lirienne was no different. She was arrogant, thinking she could eliminate you without consequences.

Getting into her home was easy. He could’ve ended it right then and there. But that wasn’t enough. No, she needed to suffer.

So he made it look like a robbery. Tossed her belongings, shattered a few things. Let her wake up to a scene of chaos before he moved to the next step.

Her close friends—anyone she might rely on—received anonymous threats. Carefully crafted blackmail, things that made them too scared to associate with her.

By the time Lirienne realized she was being hunted, it was too late. Capitano had already buried her in paranoia.

With Lirienne gone, things returned to normal—or at least, as normal as they could be. Your worries faded, and you could finally focus on your job without looking over your shoulder.

One evening, after a long shift, you decided to take Capitano out for a drink. It had been a while since you both relaxed.

But when you got home, you found him asleep on the couch, the dim glow of the TV flickering across his face.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly. Big scary man, knocked out on the couch like a cat in a sunbeam.

Grabbing the remote, you turned off the TV. At first, you thought you imagined it. But then he mumbled again, voice low, almost pained.

“Don’t… leave…”

You crouched beside him, watching as his brows furrowed ever so slightly. His breathing was steady, but his body was tense—like even in his sleep, he was holding onto something.

You hesitated before reaching out, placing a hand on his. His grip relaxed slightly, and his shoulders eased.

You swallowed. Maybe… taking him out for a drink could wait.

You stayed crouched beside him, watching his sleeping face, his quiet breaths filling the silence.

Then, just as you were about to pull your hand away—

“…Failed… again…”

Failed? Again?

That—didn’t sound like something he would say. Capitano wasn’t the type to speak of failure. He carried himself with unwavering confidence, like a man who never wavered.

So what was he dreaming about?

Your thoughts were cut short as his breathing shifted, deeper now, heavier. His fingers twitched again before his eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted to you.

“…You’re awake”

“You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” you scoffed lightly, trying to shake the strange feeling. “C’mon, you’re sleeping on the couch again. Let’s get you to bed.”

As you led him to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but glance back at him.

Failed again.

Failed what?

The words lingered in your mind long after Capitano had fallen asleep again, this time properly in bed. You sat on the edge, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, trying to piece together what it meant.

Capitano had no memories of his past—at least, that’s what he claimed. But sometimes, things slipped through the cracks. Little moments, little murmurs. You hadn’t questioned them before, thinking they were just remnants of something long gone.

But now?

You couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in your gut.

Had he been someone before? Was there something he wasn’t telling you—or worse, something he didn’t even remember himself?

Carefully, you reached out, tracing your fingers over his bandaged hand. The wound that never healed. Another mystery.

Maybe it was time to start looking for answers.

The next morning, you woke up with Capitano’s hand still in yours. At some point in the night, he had shifted closer.

You needed answers.

But where would you even start?

Capitano didn’t remember much—or at least, that’s what he said. And you doubted he would suddenly recall everything if you just asked him outright. But there had to be something to go off.

The wound that wouldn’t heal. The way his hair grew back instantly. The strange strength and reflexes he showed when he fought off those men. Even the way he had hatched from that egg instead of being born normally—everything about him was unnatural.

And yet, he didn’t seem concerned about it.

You exhaled, slowly slipping your hand from his. As much as you wanted to shake him awake and demand answers, you knew that wasn’t going to work.

So instead, you would do what you did best—observe.

That day, you started paying closer attention.

You watched how Capitano moved, how he interacted with the world around him. He didn’t seem lost or confused like someone who had lost their memory—he carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew who he was.

But sometimes, little things slipped.

Like how he instinctively reached for a weapon he didn’t have when startled. Or how he watched battles with an almost detached familiarity, as if he had seen a thousand of them before.

And then there was the way he spoke.

You had never really thought about it before, but Capitano’s words—his mannerisms—felt old. Like he wasn’t just from another place, but another time.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

That evening, as you bandaged his hand yet again, you finally spoke.

“…What do you think you failed at?”

His eyes met yours. “What?”

You hesitated, but there was no point in backing down now. “You said something in your sleep. Failed again.”

His grip on the edge of the table tightened slightly. “…I don’t remember.”

“Capitano,” you murmured, tightening the last part of the bandage. “If there’s something I should know, just tell me.”

“…If I had failed, would you leave me?”

“What?”

“If I was a failure,” he repeated, voice quieter this time, “would you still stay?”

You didn’t know what he had failed at—what his past even was. But looking at him now, waiting for your answer like it mattered more than anything, you knew one thing for sure.

“…You’re not a failure to me.”

“…Then that’s enough.”

It wasn’t the answer you wanted. It didn’t explain anything. But for now, it was all he was willing to give.

-----

The moment you got the news, everything around you blurred into nothing.

Jollie was dead.

You didn’t remember how you got home. Your feet carried you there, but your mind wasn’t present. The words repeated in your head over and over, but they refused to make sense. She was just here. She was supposed to visit soon. We were supposed to talk again. She can’t be...

You locked the door behind you and didn’t leave.

You ignored your phone, the messages piling up, the calls that went unanswered. Eating, working, even moving—none of it mattered. The weight in your chest was suffocating, pressing down until you couldn’t breathe.

The kitchen felt cold. The thought of stepping inside, of cooking anything, felt wrong. Jollie had been the one person who always demanded a taste test, who teased you about your "serious chef face" while you worked. Without her, even your passion felt empty.

Capitano stayed.

He didn’t leave your side, not even once. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t try to shake you out of it. He just remained—a quiet, unmoving figure watching over you.

Even when you curled up in bed, staring blankly at the wall, he was there. When you sat at the table without touching your food, he stood nearby. And when the grief finally cracked, when the tears came without warning, his hand found yours, firm and grounding.

Jollie was gone. And you didn’t know how to move forward.

Capitano had never been one to sit idly by.

Watching you waste away in your grief, locked inside, refusing to eat, to move—it was unacceptable. If you couldn’t pull yourself out of it, then he would do it for you.

And that meant finding the truth.

Jollie’s death wasn’t random. Capitano could feel it in his bones—there was something off about it.

His first step was gathering information. People talked, especially when they thought no one important was listening. Capitano stalked the streets at night, blending into the shadows, eavesdropping in places you wouldn’t dare step foot in.

And soon enough, the pieces started falling into place.

Jollie’s husband.

A man drowning in debt. A man who had more than one mistress tucked away in secret corners of the city. A man who had everything to lose if Jollie ever decided to leave him and take what little wealth they had left.

Capitano dug deeper.

The debts weren’t small. The lenders he owed money to weren’t the forgiving type. If he didn’t pay, he wouldn’t live long enough to see another day.

And then, there it was—the final piece. Capitano uncovered the exchange. The bribe. The order.

Jollie’s husband had arranged it himself. Paid to have her eliminated.

Once Capitano had everything he needed, he didn’t act immediately. No—he brought you with him.

You had resisted at first, still drained, still lost in your grief. But he didn’t give you a choice. He made you come, guiding you through the dark streets until you arrived at a secluded meeting spot.

There, Jollie’s husband was waiting.

The proof was laid out before you. The debts. The mistresses. The transaction. Everything that led to Jollie’s death.

You could hardly breathe.

“You decide” Capitano told you, “What happens to him?”

You wanted to hate him. Wanted to scream, to lash out. But in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to be cruel.

“…Just turn him in” you whispered. “Let the authorities deal with him.”

Capitano stared at you for a long moment before nodding. Without another word, he took you home.

You thought it was over. You thought you had done the right thing, made the right choice.

But Capitano knew better.

Men like Jollie’s husband didn’t deserve mercy.

And so, later that night, without your knowledge, Capitano paid him a final visit.

By morning, Jollie’s husband was gone. No one would ever find the body.

And you?

You would never know.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe again.

Jollie was gone, and that pain would never truly fade—but knowing the truth, knowing she was free from the man who betrayed her, brought a strange sense of peace.

Capitano stood beside you. He had done more than just watch over you—he had acted. He had carried you through your darkest moment without hesitation.

And as the weight on your chest finally lightened, Capitano made a silent vow to himself.

From this day forward, he would stay by your side. To protect you. To ensure your happiness. To be the one constant you could rely on.

Jollie may have left a void, but Capitano would make sure you were never alone again.

[carawenfiction]

So...remember how I said in that update post how I might MAYBE do a TSS rewrite and post it for free?

"Maybe" quickly turned into "definitely happening". Instead of making it outside of COG, however, the finished product that's already published will be updated with the rewritten files. This means that if you've already purchased TSS through COG, you'll have the rewritten version available. That's how I originally intended to go about things with the old rewrite and is the better option here to avoid potential complications.

I've been in contact with COG and they've let me know that I'd be able to do what I have in mind even if this results in a different wordcount and very different scenes/plot points and a different kind of main story.

I realize that this announcement is probably pretty jarring since my last post stated that I wasn't sure about doing a rewrite but that I wanted to if I had enough time. After making that post, I started creating an outline for the rewrite mostly for fun...and one thing kind of led to another. I want you all to know that I wouldn't be making this post at all if I wasn't sure about this. It's because I've already begun the process and feel incredibly motivated and inspired that I can do this that I'm making this announcement.

This rewrite is not going to be like my old attempt at a rewrite, though. It's an entirely new one that I feel much more confident about.

So far I've written the outline for the rewrite and started reworking already existing scenes from chapter 1 as well some new ones. I'm happy to say that the difference between how the rewrite process felt years ago compared to now is like light and day. It seems like those years I've taken away from TSS were very healthy and helpful in giving me some distance and letting me figure out what kind of story I really want to tell.

My plan is to rewrite book 1 and then make 1 full continuation after that. Instead of a trilogy, it looks like this version of TSS will be 2 volumes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it'll be shorter than originally intended. I think it's more doable for me to rewrite the first book (starting from scratch while also using some already written scenes, since I've been assured I'm allowed to do so) and then make 1 complete continuation of it rather than trying to fill stuff out over 3 different entries, and I think it'll serve the plot and story as a whole to do it that way.

That being said, I fully understand that some - or most of you - might have trouble trusting my word after me failing to do the rewrite I wanted to years ago and not delivering a second book. That's completely fair. This time I'm not rushing things and I don't feel any pressure to do this. It's not something I do out of dislike for the original, but rather out of love for what it could be and what I could make it into, if that makes sense. I'm taking as much time as I need to and am not putting any pressure on myself to do this.

My other project takes priority right now so I can't dedicate all of my time to the rewrite, but I'm working on it when I have time over or get stuck. It's actually pretty nice to alternate between two different stories that have different settings and has helped a bit in avoiding writer's block.

Here are some differences between TSS and the TSS rewrite (most of the changes I made to the old rewrite no longer apply):

The rewrite will be told in second-person point of view ("you" instead of "I"). The reason for this is that when I first started TSS I was really unused to the second-person POV, but after having spent years in the IF space it's now the other way around. It'll make writing much easier for for me, and I hope it won't feel too jarring for people who are used to the first person POV.

The Shadowman and Jealene (now "J") will both be genderselectable just like the main cast. The Shadowman will be genderselectable later on, though - it might sound strange but I think it makes sense when you have more context. J plays a bigger role than they did in the original and their personality is a bit different in this version.

Some side characters (such as most of the hideout) will be cut. This is because they felt really underdeveloped to me in the full game and didn't serve much of a purpose. Instead I'm focusing more on the main cast + a few key characters to ensure the story plot stays focused and you get more time to develop bonds of various kinds with the main cast instead.

The relationship system will look a bit different. Instead of bars showing a percentage of approval, I'll write a description of each character and what they think of you. The descriptions will shift when the character starts viewing you differently, whether that's due to rivalry, romance or friendship. My hope is that this will allow for a more nuanced relationship system/descriptions. I'll also adjust the options a bit to try and make choices more nuanced and am thinking of including the option of having ex. a heart next to a romantic choice for those who want to know for sure what they're getting into. The different responses (such as shy, flirty etc.) will stay but some of it will probably be reworked. Essentially what I want to do is allow for a wider range of MCs and how the characters respond to the MC.

The MC is going to have more agency in certain ways. I've included something plot-relevant to the main character that can potentially change the dynamic between them and the group a bit, but it all depends on how you play it.

The tone might be somewhat different. Not entirely, of course, but there are some parts of the old TSS where the characters sound a bit younger than they are supposed to be, where tension and seriousness has been sacrificed in favor of humor and where some of the interactions aren't the way I would prefer for them to be. I've gotten older since writing TSS (gasp) and my tastes have changed, as has my writing to some degree. In order to do a rewrite I'd have to write in a way that's most enjoyable for me and that I feel best fits the story I want to tell. That's not to say that there isn't going to be silliness etc., but I'm adjusting the tone somewhat and putting more time and effort into descriptions and the writing overall.

The narrative will be different, even though the overall story itself will mostly stay the same. I'm keeping a lot of elements and also aim to introduce new ones that I believe will strengthen the story and make it a more enjoyable game overall.

I think those are the main differences I can give away right now without spoiling anything. I'll make sure to post updates when I've got more to share! Once the demo for the rewrite is finished, I'll post it on the forums and link it in an intro post on here.

Thank you all for sticking by me throughout the years. I hope you'll find some comfort in returning to this world, as well as new things to ponder and excite you in this new upcoming version of the story <3

The Azuridia and Quaiel chibis are done by the amazing madebysalfi

[ofstarsandvibranium]

I Spy With My Little Eye

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin got you a little present for when he's away on missions for a longer time.

A/N: This is based off a tiktok I saw about a husband bothering his wife with the Ebo Bot while he's deployed

"...Joaquin, what is this exactly?" you look at the device inside the box.

Your boyfriend looks at you excitedly, "It's a little robot that I can use to communicate with you while I'm away on missions."

You pull it out along with instructions, "Honey, this is sweet and all, but our phones work just fine."

"But our phones don't roll around looking all cute like!" You watch as he downloads the required app and sets up the bot. Soon enough, the round, white and black bot is rolling around your living room floor. Joaquin controls it from his phone.

"See!" He then taps his phone again, "And I can talk to you through it like this!"

Honestly, you still didn't see the purpose of the bot, but it made Joaquin happy and it provides another form of communication with him while he's away.

"It does look pretty cute," you say, giving him a soft smile, which makes his own smile grow wider.

__________________

You're in the kitchen cooking dinner for yourself when you hear the rolling of wheels, "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

You chuckle and look down at your feet. The ebo bot is angled up at you as your boyfriend speaks through it, "Making soup?" Joaquin asks as he notes the pot in front of you.

"Close. I'm cooking stew."

"All of that for you?"

You roll your eyes, "No. I'll eat what I can and then I'll freeze the rest to eat for another time. Or if you want to eat it when you come back, all you have to do is heat it back up."

"Oooohh smart."

"Everything going okay?" you ask as you go back to cooking.

"Yup. Probably will be back in a day or two....can you pick me up and put me on the counter?"

You snort, "Really? Why?"

"So I can get a better look at your beautiful face, obviously." You hear the grin in his voice.

You roll your eyes again but you oblige. For the past few missions, Joaquin has used the ebo bot to talk to you, mess around, and be a little nuisance. You could tell he was enjoying it way too much.

"I hope Sam never gives you your own Red Wing. I can't imagine the nonsense you'd pull with something more advance," you smirk at the bot that rolls around the counter beside you.

"I've already asked and he refuses to give me one."

You laugh, "As he should! You're a menace with this little thing," you gesture to the bot with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"I'm just making sure you're not lonely when I'm away!"

"Baby, I love you, but we both know you're the clingier one between us."

You laugh as the bot turns around and rolls towards a corner, appearing as if Joaquin is pouting.

"Take it back."

"No, because it's true! And I didn't say it was a bad thing, Joaco!"

"No, no, no. It's fine. Screw me for being super duper in love with my beautiful and amazing girlfriend." he proceeds to roll towards the edge of the counter and you stop him.

"You're so dramatic," you say with a smirk as you pick up the bot and raise it to eye level.

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. Very much," you kiss the bot and set it back on the counter, "Were you going to watch me eat dinner?"

"Nah. I'll let you go. I need to work on reports or Sam will get on me again."

You snicker, "Alright," you set the bot onto the floor, "Love you. Bye!"

"Love you! Byyyyyeeeeee!" he elongates the word as rolls all the way back to the dock, causing you to laugh to yourself.

[seumyo]

This is the first time I dare to do something like this, but I saw you were writing for Rook one of my favourite characters. So I was wondering if you could do something with a French!Reader, not necessarily a romantic one but someone who would understand what Rook says perfectly. It would be better if they spoke Japanese since their arrival and he doesn't know they understand him until they surprise him by responding.

ROOK HUNT ✰ UNDERSTANDING YOU

NOTE. This is so sweet, I’m clawing at the walls. Rook, my love (◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ) Thank you so much for this beautiful request <33 Also forgive me French speakers if the translations are rough/grammatically incorrect—I was fighting for my life against most online translators for this

You’ve always known that Rook had a way with his words. He was convinced no one at Night Raven College could fully appreciate his words, so he freely spoke his mind in his native language.

It became his way of processing emotions and, at times—his frustrations—without anyone understanding his deeper thoughts. Because of this, he was more unfiltered and vulnerable when speaking French, a luxury he thought he alone could enjoy.

That is, until you came into the picture.

You were seated in your usual spot in the library, books spread out in front of you as you studied, when Rook appeared seemingly out of nowhere. How does he do that? You could never truly know.

“Quelle concentration exquise! (What exquisite focus!) A sight you are, [Name],” he smiled, taking a seat next to you and peering over your shoulder to see what textbook you were reading.

You, exhausted from hours of reading and too distracted to think, responded automatically.

“Tu es vraiment bruyant, Rook. (You're really loud, Rook.)”

Pause.

Stop.

Rewind.

Rebooting.

“Ah-ha!” Rook almost cheered in glee, but you were able to stop him from doing so—because you were sure the librarian was keeping a stern eye on you two by now. He chuckled, murmuring this time, “Merveilleux. (Marvelous!) You speak French.”

“I—“

He, however, was already leaning closer, his grin full of delight—as if unable to stop himself from chatting your head off upon this revelation. “Why have you hidden this from me for so long? Ah, quel bonheur. (What joy!) I had thought myself alone in this vast sea of languages, but to know that you too carry the melody of French upon your tongue—it is as though fate has brought us together.”

Caught somewhere between embarrassment and amusement, you duckled your head, resting your head against your propped arms on the table. “Ce n'était pas intentionnel. (It wasn’t intentional.)”

“But why?” Rook pressed, tilting his head. He almost looked like a child—unable to hold his curiosity in one place. “Was it shyness? Or perhaps… a desire to keep your origins a secret? Oh, the mystery only adds to your allure.”

“I just... didn’t see the need to?” You mirrored his head tilt, now pondering why you never spoke much French when you got to this college.

He gasped.

“But why deny yourself the pleasure of our beautiful language?”

“Je ne sais pas, Rook. (I don't know, Rook.) Maybe I just liked keeping it to myself? I’m not really sure.”

Rook studied you for a moment before smiling, softer this time. “Well then, [Name], if I may be so bold… would you indulge me in conversation every now and then? It is rare to find someone who understands the true essence of our mother tongue.”

There was something warm about the way he said it, a genuine happiness beneath his usual theatrical flair. It’s that unfiltered, unparalleled joy of finding that specific connection with someone.

You said yes, of course.

And just like that, things changed.

Where before Rook had simply been another student you occasionally encountered and was in the same dorm as you, he now became a frequent presence at your side, always eager to chat. At first, it was strange—you weren’t used to speaking French so casually in this school, but with Rook, it felt natural.

“Regarde comme le ciel est beau aujourd'hui! (Look at how beautiful the sky is today!)” Rook says as you two walk through the gardens, gesturing delicately.

“Mhm, it’s nice out,” you replied, amused at his enthusiasm.

Or, when you were focused on something, he would suddenly appear beside you, whispering in your ear, “Tu as un esprit si captivant… Que pourrais-tu bien être en train de penser? (You have such a captivating mind… What could you possibly be thinking about?)”

To which you’d flick his forehead and respond, “Que tu es agaçant. (That you're annoying.)” He’d laugh as you continued, “Really, stop creeping up behind me like that—I could’ve elbowed you.”

“Violent, how endearing.”

He, of course, took it all in stride, laughing as if you had just paid him the highest compliment.

Despite his dramatics, you found yourself enjoying his presence more than you expected. There was something comforting about having someone else who understood your language, who could switch between playful teasing and deep, poetic musings without hesitation. It felt like home in a way you hadn’t realized you missed.

A friend that made you feel at home. As you did with him.

One evening, as you sat by the lake, watching the water ripple under the fading sunlight, Rook sighed contentedly.

“Tu sais, (You know),” he said, voice softer than usual, “depuis que je suis ici, je me suis souvent senti comme un étranger dans mon propre monde. (Ever since I arrived here, I’ve often felt like a stranger in my own world.)”

You were surprised by his change of tone.

“Pourquoi? (Why?)”

Rook smiled, but there was a wistfulness in his expression. “Parce que la langue est une chose étrange. (Because language is a strange thing.) It is not just words—it carries culture, memories, the very essence of who we are. And though I love the way words dance in many tongues, there is a loneliness in being the only one to understand a particular melody.”

You had never thought about it that way.

He really had a way with words.

And an even more

You nudged his shoulder lightly. “Tu n’es plus seul maintenant. (You’re not alone anymore.)”

Rook blinked, then beamed at you, warmth radiating from his smile. “Ah, quelle déclaration magnifique! (Ah, what a magnificent declaration!) My dear [Name], you are truly a treasure!”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Ne sois pas dramatique. (Don’t be dramatic.)”

“But it is my nature!” he declared, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You sighed quietly but didn’t move away.

You supposed that, just this once, you could let him be as dramatic as he wanted. Because Rook really did feel like he was home whenever he was with you, and that made his heart more contented than anything.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

In Every Universe

Summary - You and Azriel enjoy some peace during Starfall. You wonder if Azriel would still pick you, even without a mating bond. (540 words) This one is 2nd pov again.

Warnings - References to burning. Severe fluff.

Part of The Shadowsinger and the Emissary Universe.

🌌🌌

His shadows gave him away, they always did. You felt them first, rising from the ground and dancing around your wrist and fingers before softly brushing a bit of hair back from your shoulder. “Hello, Shadowsinger.” You slowly turned to face him.

“Hello, beautiful.” He smiled, stepping out from the shadows. “What is my lovely wife and mate doing up on the roof and not at the party?” 

“Thinking, with a better view,” you responded, before a shadow adjusted your shawl. Another spirit flew overhead and you looked up again. “Starfall,” you murmured quietly. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

A soft hum left Azriel in response before you met his gaze again. “Quite beautiful indeed.” 

“I’m talking about the stars, well, the spirits,” you responded. You tried not to give away the way your heartbeat a little bit faster. 

“I’m talking about my star. My sun. You are my sun, and I,” he stepped even closer, “am the one who would burn myself to even get a touch of you.” 

You reached out your hand to your mate, adjusting your shawl in the process. He took it, before tugging you closer. “I’d prefer you not burn.”

“As you wish,” he murmured before placing a kiss to the inside of your wrist a few times. A soft kiss that only Azriel could give. The kisses began traveling up your arm making you laugh before he scatters them across your shoulder then to your neck where a low hum escaped your lips. Finally to your jaw and then your lips. His hands drifted down your back, holding you against him.

“Dance with me,” you murmured, so quietly you weren’t even sure you said it.

He smiled in response before talking one of your hands, the other wrapped around your mid-back. 

You responded with placing your free arm and hand around his shoulder and neck. “What, a year ago I refused to dance. No?” 

“I’m glad I could convince my mate that dancing can be enjoyable,” the Shadowsinger responded. He slowly rocked the two of you on the roof to the sound of the night air, the spirits flying overhead. His shadows danced around you, as if protecting you from someone who might interrupt the precious moment. Precious moments you learned to appreciate since being separated during the war. 

“Mate,” you whispered to him. “Would you still choose me, even if I was not your mate?” You weren’t sure how serious your question was, though it wasn’t the first time you had thought about it.

He paused, something that could be mistaken for anger flashing across his eyes, but it was gone in a moment. The Shadowsinger stepped back to admire you for a moment. “You hurt me,” he said seriously. “To suggest that. In every universe I would find you and pick you. If the Mother ripped you away from me right now I would travel across time and space to find you. I would fight the gods with my barehands for you. I would let my body burn for you. You saved me, and loved me. I will spend the rest of my years showing you that love, giving my thanks. I would still do that, mating bond or not.” 

You believed him.

🌌🌌

Taglist : @5onedirection5 @emryb @lilah-asteria @azrielrot @scatteredstardustt @mis-lil-red

[allfortheslay25]

Sorry to that one person who asked about more Milo in my inbox. The ask disappeared and has yet to come back after the draft refused to post so I’ll be posting it just like this.

Hopefully you see it🙏

I should probably mention I wrote this chapter years ago but only adjusted some things at the beginning of the year before January

Milo Future Spoilers

There was nothing like the humidity of South Carolina; damp, sweltering, and mouth drying.

Neil smacked his lips and wiped sweat off the back of his neck. No, nothing like it.

The press of something freezing was soothing for a split second before it was alerting. Neil flinched away from the cold glass bottle Andrew pushed against his neck before taking it.

"Thanks."

Andrew squatted next to him, picking under his armbands to collect the sweat building up under them. Neil stared because Neil liked this pair. A shade of white with the thinnest pair of double orange stripes down the inner forearm. Andrew didn't wear them for much. It didn't go with the silver and gold tone of his uniform nor the black of his wardrobe. He hadn't really put them on since Allison gifted them to him back in 2012.

Andrew took Neil's soda from him after watching the man do little to open the damn thing. He popped off the cap, licking the back before pressing it to Neil's forehead.

Neil quirked up a smile. "It's fresh."

Andrew just turned away with his own drink half done.

"Where the fuck is Nicky? It's boiling out here!" Allison shouted from where she was handing out drinks.

Aaron flicked cooler water at Matt when the man attempted to steal the last lemonade. "Probably got sidetracked talking about Germany again. He acts as if we haven't been caught up with him in the last week."

Kevin rattled the doors like a madman. "Let me in.

We're right here, let me in!"

It would have been hilarious, enough to bring smiles and teasing from the old Foxes. But recently, with Kevin's publicized relapse and his alleged divorce from Thea, well, no one was laughing at Kevin these days.

The outer court walls had seen better days too.

The orange paint had faded to a yellow hue, chipped and dusty with tagging unwashed at the corners. Neil knew the Palmetto Foxes had been on a fortunate rise and he knew sometime after his leave did it begin to fall apart. Wymack bit off more than he could chew, they said. Too many scandals, too many suicides and murders, too many delinquents being allowed on a court. But Neil supposes they did well enough to keep those doors open another year.

Neil's drink was promptly swiped from his hands, the culprit? His son, Milo.

"If you're not gonna drink it at least don't let it go hot."

Neil squinted up at the boy. He did that standing too. Milo had hit puberty and outgrew Neil sometime between 12 and 13, but then the growing never stopped. He stood now, at an even 6ft with no chance of finishing his growth spurt.

Lanky and awkward teenage limbs, freckled and messy haired, Milo somehow stopped looking like Neil. Everyone always says his baby face is nostalgic to first year Neil Josten, but if you put the pictures side by side, Milo always had something Neil didn't. There was a sharpness to him, something he couldn't hide better than Neil.

"Kevin, stop playing with the doors, you'll break them." Renee chastised. It was a miracle to have her here with them in the flesh at all. She spent most of their reunions on video chat with low internet. "I'm sure Coach will be here soon with the keys."

Milo, soda long finished, turned to Kevin with an otter pop between his teeth. "Does it bother you that much?" He mumbled.

Kevin let go of the doors with reluctance. "No... I just... I want to see it already."

Milo hummed around his treat before standing and marching over to the doors. He hip checked Kevin—an eerie sight as they stood head to head in height—and pulled something from his pocket.

Milo fiddled with the fence and it sprung open.

The Old Foxes stared in disbelief.

"You had the keys the whole time? Milo!" Dan said.

Milo shrugged, displaying a paperclip and a hairpin. He shoved the fence out the way and marched on to the doors he'd need a code for. As Milo fooled around with it, the Foxes all turned to Neil with faces of amusement and exasperation.

"He's your son alright." They said.

"Little Josten."

"Little Monster." They all cooed.

"That's 'Little Minyard-Josten' to you." Milo announced before punching a button on the door.

It beeped and clicked and Milo turned the handle to allow everyone inside.

"How did you know the code!?" Kevin wondered.

"They just had a baby, no?" Milo pointed out. "It's always been someone's birthday."

The foyer was almost the same as they'd all last seen it. Orange benches were set here and there, and the floor was white tile with orange paw prints. Orange cones were stacked in a corner, three deep and six high. A white door was on the wall to their right, and an orange door was opposite them. Only difference was there was a crack in the wall no one patched up, and the white tiles had muddled down to a moppy grey.

Milo moved past it to the gear closet. As the Old Foxes looked around and chatted about memories a decade old, Milo had suited up and stolen a racquet.

"Should we let him keep doing that?" Allison muttered to the rest.

"Leave him be, this is the most excited we've seen him since before the B R E A K U P call." Dan whispered.

"You know he can spell faster than us, right?"

Aaron whispered back.

"And you know you're a bad whisperer, right?"

Matt countered.

"Cousins!" Anything Aaron was about to say was cut off by Nicky's loud arrival. He raced towards Aaron and Andrew, bringing them into tight squeezes despite the twos wriggling.

Neil smiled because it'd been three years since Andrew had told Nicky he could hug him without asking. Andrew sometimes snapped that he was sick of it, but Andrew had also told Neil years ago that he didn't do regret.

Nicky let out a sharp gasp from his position in hugging Neil. He all but shoved the man into Matt before springing himself onto Milo. "My baby nephew! You've gotten so big! Last time I saw you you were definitely a head shorter! What are they feeding you? Is it Kevin's diet?"

Milo smiled and hugged Nicky as hard as he could despite the pads. "A mix of junk food and Kevin's dietary plan I only follow when I'm bored."

Kevin sent him a glare for that but went back to finding proper gear without a word.

"How did any of you get inside?" Wymack wondered gruffly. Standing in the flesh, was their beloved coach who hadn't seemed to age a day in their eyes. The only thing new was the baby attached to his chest.

Everyone flooded his space in an instant, cooing and awing at the little infant with orange bows in her curly hair. It was a shame Kevin had to be the one to tell them Wymack and Abby were having a baby. He was too excited to remember they wanted to surprise everyone. Sarah was adopted by them as soon as she'd been born, the baby of a previous Fox who didn't want children. None of them knew her from anything other than the tabloids that printed her face everywhere on Exy news the week after her discharge from the hospital. She dropped out of Palmetto soon after and was in the wind before Wymack and Abby could say goodbye.

"Okay you animals, get your diseased faces out of my baby's face. And Kevin, get your face out that closet and hug me dammit."

Kevin paused from where he was pulling a pair of gloves out of the gear closet to sheepishly shuffle over to his father.

"Where's Abby?" Kevin asked as he smiled at

Sarah's squinty face.

"Napping. She wanted to come by but I told her we'd be here all day and she can stop by when she's had at least an hour of sleep." Wymack said.

He tossed the court keys at Neil who used them to unlock all of the doors inside.

Before anyone finished dressing, Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau knocked on the locker room doors. This reunion was special, a chance for Jean to see Renee, and Jeremy to see Kevin in an act of support in these dire times.

Having so many professional exy stars in one room felt charged in a way. Kevin seemed ready to cream his pants, or so Andrew commented.

Jeremy looked good in orange and Jean looked like he'd rather do the scrimmage naked. But Neil only had eyes for Andrew whose old uniform stretched on him like a wet dream.

"Can you even play like that?" Aaron smirked, silently laughing at Andrew's predicament. Aaron hadn't been on his college grind in so long, he'd lost muscle mass but gained a healthy weight that his uniform fit almost perfectly.

Andrew silently knocked Aaron on the shoulder with his racquet and clicked his tongue at the weight of it. Neil understood the feeling. Their old racquets were like feathers, Neil wasn't sure he could play with something so lightweight.

Milo was setting up cones and baskets of exy balls with cheerfulness. He was running around the court with a giddiness that rubbed off onto everyone else.

"Don't forget to stretch," Kevin reminded him.

Milo turned and threw his body into a bridge position before resting into a handstand.

"Show off." Kevin grumbled as Jeremy laughed.

Milo properly stretched afterward, first to finish as he picked up the basket of exy balls.

"I wanna show you something. Miss Renee, may you take the goal for me?" Milo asked.

“My pleasure,” Renee said with a smile. She gave Andrew a friendly pat on the shoulder and took her place in the goal.

“We don’t have all day, Milo.” Kevin complained.

“Let him do what he wants, it’s his first game playing with us.” Dan said.

“My first game playing with you guys was actually in the morning of July 14th, 2006. It was my ‘Unbirthday’ as uncle Nicky put it and Matt knocked me onto my back.” Milo said as he got into position.

“You can’t count that as a real game.” Kevin said.

Milo smiled over his shoulder, one of the ones that made the Foxes refer to him as ‘Little Monster’ at times. “Shut up, Day, and watch this.”

He looked back at Renee who nodded at him and got into position. The stance was loose but almost as sturdy as it’d been all those years ago. Milo took up a ball and tossed it to her lightly, allowing her to hit it back far enough he’d have to chase it down the court. And Milo did. He didn’t want to see where it was headed. With bullet-like speed he took off, throwing himself from the wall, flying down the court before anyone could do much as turn their heads. The ball hit a far wall and came back. Milo jumped, snatching it from the air and landing on his left foot before propelling himself forward. He made light work of the cones and within 10 steps, scored on Renee. Neil didn’t know why but when Milo had taken the ball, he waited for a pass to someone who wasn’t there. It itched at his brain in a familiarity he couldn’t place.

Andrew narrowed his eyes before his mouth quirked into one of his amused expressions.

“What?” Neil wondered a little too loud.

“He’s just doing the most for no reason.” Kevin interrupted.

“He just mimicked Neil’s exact play his first time at a Fox match.” Andrew corrected.

Everyone turned to him in confusion.

Neil looked back, running it through his head but that game had been so long ago he didn’t remember.

Dan's eyes lit up, though. “He passed to me. Neil, you did that same jump thing your first game—back when Seth was taken off and you made your debut. You passed to me because someone was on your ass.”

“There’s no way. We can’t even remember it clearly. No one can say for sure.” Allison said.

Andrew tapped his temple. “I can. Memory like a steel trap, I never took my eyes off him. I’m the one who passed the ball to Neil.”

“It’s a fluke.” Kevin said.

Milo whistled at them to get everyone’s attention. “I’m not finished.” He tossed another ball to Renee. “I’ll call it for you this time; Seth Gordon 2006.” Milo changed the grip on his racquet, hands lower as his fingers gesture higher. He straightened his back and ran a few seconds after the ball flew, watching it with his eyes and racing at a slower yet more desperate pace. Once he’d caught it, he whipped it over his shoulder with such speed and strength, it nearly clipped Renee on the shoulder.

“There’s no way to guarantee that.” Kevin hissed.

Milo tossed another ball and cocked his head at Kevin. “Really? Let’s get more famous. Let’s see…” Milo tapped the button of his racquet against the floor and passed his stick to his left hand and the movement was so specific, Jean and the Foxes straightened in disbelief. “Kevin Day, 2007.” Milo called, once again changing his posture. The ball went and Milo moved, catching it and weaving around cones with such single mindedness it was breathtaking. Renee was serious now as she waited, eager to stop Milo but incapable of accomplishing it. The ball whistled past her ear and the Foxes roared in incredulous excitement.

“Join me, will you, Mister Knox?” Milo asked.

Jeremy smirked and followed onto the court. He attempted to take up a backliner position but Milo moved him into the striker mark. He passed a ball to Jeremy and motioned for him to continue. The Foxes readied for whatever trick Milo held up his sleeve next. He moved his racquet back to his right and hunched his shoulders a bit in a way that left him open for injury. Jeremy moved to get past him and Milo hooked his foot around his and sent him stumbling. Milo then yanked his stick out of his unassuming hands with a simple twist, stealing the ball and sending it across the court to be slammed into the goal wall.

“Jean Moreau, 2005.” Milo said. Jeremy was on his ass behind him, clutching his wrist in surprise.

“That was a dirty move. I had so much faith in you.”

Milo gave him his racquet, using it to pull Jeremy to his feet. “You were expecting Jean-Yvves Moreau, 2009. But I like surprises.”

Jean frowned from his place by the Foxes. “That move is long dead. You can hurt someone with it.”

Milo held up Jeremy’s arm by the elbow, waving it at Jean. “He’s all in one piece. Now I’ve got something special for you all. Get on the court, Miss Renee, Drew, you may wait for my last demonstration off to the side.

As they all took their marks, not for a scrimmage but for shooting on the goal, Milo sauntered onto Renee’s place, tossing his racquet for hers. He spun it around and moved his hands before crouching and staring them down the court. Even with the helmet over his eyes, there was an intensity that boiled the cool air into something claustrophobic to the group. No one had to guess who Milo was mimicking now, but he still called out to them.

“Andrew Minyard, 2016.”

Neil got first dibs as he was the first to line up. He moved past Nicky and shot at the goal with a ferocity he saved for real matches. The deafening crack that boomed through the space as Milo’s racquet connected with the ball made everyone flinch in their spots. The ball sailed through the air like a jet before smacking into the other goal.

“There’s no way you did that!” Nicky screamed.

“That’s Andrew’s move. Do you know how many goalies have attempted to replicate that and succeeded?” Kevin shouted. “Eight! Only six have accomplished it in all exy history!”

“Seven, counting me.” Milo said, tossing the racquet over his shoulder. “But if I’m truly honest, I wouldn’t be able to do it again as accurately. Especially during an intense game. I’ve practiced your moves since I could hold a racquet and I've mastered your techniques in less years than you’ve all been playing. But Drew’s moves are special.”

Kevin was still staring at the ball across the court. “We need that tape. Get us that tape. You’ll need to show it to recruiters—”

“Slow down, Kevin.” Jeremy said.

“You’re turning red.” Jean said.

Kevin seemed close to fainting. When he’d had some water and Wymack promised to send him the security tape, they all got their chance to shoot on Milo who didn’t allow a single one through. After the showboating, they played a real scrimmage. Whoever won got to play with Milo next and even as Kevin lost thrice in a row, he never stopped his giddy chatter about the places Milo would go and the changes he’d bring to the sport.

[shinra-makonoid]

In a lot of cases, exercice does in fact help, I'm not sure I know of a chronic illness that isn't helped by exercice to be fair. Your bones and articulations will give you pain if you don't exercice. Your muscles will be stuck and uncomfortable and hurt if you don't exercice. Your heart and lungs will be less ok if you don't exercice. Your mental health suffers from not exercising. We need to move just like we need to breathe, eat, drink and sleep. Exercice has been linked to less pain in general, and it works for things that usually don't work with meds, like for example fibromyalgia.

The meaning that you put behind "exercice" doesn't need to be high or heavy. Cleaning your house is exercice. Cooking is exercice. Stretching is exercice (and a very good one at that, probably one of the best if you can't really move a lot). Walking in the street is exercice. Climbing stairs is exercice. Singing is exercice. Gardening is exercice. What matters is that you find the exercice that is corresponding to what you can do and what you're willing to give, something you can manage to keep doing and enjoy doing. It's infinitely better if you do 30 mins gardening every two days rather than one 30 mins run every 2 years because it took you one week for your body to recover from your run that you hated with all your gut the whole 30 mins of it. There is absolutely no need to do something you hate, and there is absolutely no need for you to struggle or hurt while doing it, it doesn't have to be long, you don't have to perform, or prove anything, or be seen by anyone if you don't want to.

It doesn't have to be 60 reps of push ups, doesn't have to be 100lbs of dumbells, doesn't have to be running, it doesn't have to be yoga. And let me tell you as someone who didn't run for so so so long, it took me at least 6 months of running once every week for 30 mins before I could stop hurting everywhere from my feet to my ankles to my lower back after a session, because my body was not used to it, and running, especially on concrete, is very traumatic for the body (and tbh I don't recommend it). It takes such a long time to remake your body in a way that can handle some intense exercices, like legit months, sometimes years. But every little bit that is conquered and done, even if it's a walk of 5 mins in the street every week, will be a net positive in the long run.

When you haven't done exercice for a while, it is traumatic for your body to go through it again. Bones for example are shaped by exercice/movements and are cued to grow and fix itself through exercice, but it takes a long time to actually shape the bones and make it fix itself and grow stronger. So if you stopped exercising for a long time, your bones will not handle it the way someone who's used to those movements is. It takes time, you have to go extremely slow and listen to your body. But it will most probably make your life easier on the long run and help against your chronic illnesses and your pain. It most probably won't cure you, but it might prevent more issues, more pain, more difficulties, and will probably give you more autonomy with years (whether it's from muscles, bones, heart, lungs or brain).

It's not a bad thing we encourage people to exercice, we just gotta be mindful about what we mean when we say exercice. Because yes, someone who cannot go out of the door of their apartment and hasn't been doing so for 3 years won't be going running any time soon or doing complicated yoga poses, and nobody should expect that and it's even dangerous to expect that.

And if you don't know where to begin, here's a possibility, he's nice and shows different levels, and it's in his kitchen:

If you don't like it, don't do it. I for one would never do the one that is on the picture because I find it extremely uncomfortable. Pick and choose what you want to do, don't complete everything, do your own things that feel ok, stop whenever you feel like it. Find what works and what you enjoy, test things out and don't be too hard on yourself. Set the lowest bar that you could possibly imagine, forgive yourself if you fail, find out why it didn't work and adjust to your body's/brain capacities. Find people who will accompany you in it (community helps). Treat yourself when you did something, even if it's minimal to yourself. It has to make you feel free and not make you feel trapped.

If you're interested in getting to know what kind of exercice you should be doing according to your issues and illnesses, please talk to your doctor about it. They might have ideas to help.

we as a society have got to stop prescribing exercise as a universal cure for chronic illness. yes exercise can be extremely beneficial for certain chronic conditions, especially under the guidance of a physical therapist or physiotherapist. how and ever acting like exercise will undoubtedly reduce the symptoms of every single chronic illness on the face of the planet just isn't it. exercise is even known to worsen the symptoms brought about by certain illnesses and disabilities, and can have detrimental effects if not approached with the utmost care. 'exercise can be beneficial for certain conditions' well yes. 'exercise will have a 100% positive impact on any and all chronic illness' no no nope and also no

[jaellyfishh]

The Corner Where We Met · Part 3

part 1 - part 2

trope: art teacher!azzi x PE teacher!paige

content: slow start to set the scene lol, fluff, smut, tiny angst

word count: 6.1K

The next Wednesday since that night

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” KK whispered to Aaliyah as she stared at the scene in front of her, the pair sitting in their usual corner table of the teacher’s lounge.

Edwards turned her head to join her colleague, nodding impressively. “They sure are giving each other googly eyes. But, like, when do they not”.

There stood Paige and Azzi, casually chatting while they waited for their lunch to heat up. It was nothing out of the ordinary from their usual break time exchanges, but somehow the air around them this time felt different - a little more affectionate.

They were smiling ear-to-ear, sometimes one was grinning at the ground after the other said something. In some moments they also giggled or had let out a light laugh, tilting their heads as they stared at each other, eyes glimmering. They were truly in their own world.

Given, their schedules haven’t exactly been aligning during school, they relished any chance they could get to see each other, even if fleeting. Whether it was Paige waiting by Azzi’s classroom door before they head to lunch or whether it was Azzi helping Paige clean their gym storage room after school; even the quick glances when they’d passed each other down the hallway or with their colleagues at lunch. They always seem to find each other.

All of a sudden, strong hands gripped the shoulders of the curious teachers. “Hey, you guys seeing what I'm seeing?” Nika had just entered the chat, Kayla right behind her.

"Girl, that's what I said! There’s a shift in the space time continuum. Did Car say anything to y’all about that night? I couldn't squeeze anything outta Azzi. And Paige kept deflecting my question," Arnold asked Nika, who took a seat beside her.

“You guys sure do seem invested in the love life of complete adults," Mühl shook her head. “But as lame as it is to admit it, this is the only thing I look forward to in my life. And no, by the way, Car and I don’t even remember what happened that night.”

Kayla sighed. “Yeah, me neither. I just remember calling Azzi ‘cause she wasn’t on the dance floor. Then she popped up outta nowhere to help us, so.”

Arnold hummed. “Didn’t Paige show up right after?”

“Yeah, she came out from the toilet,” Edwards answered as if stating the obvious.

The new information made the girls whip their heads to face Aaliyah. Then KK lifted one eyebrow, leaning towards here. “And where was Azzi coming from?”

Aaliyah slowly answered as her memory was picking back up. “Oh…the toilet. Wait-”

“You bitch,” Arnold started poking the taller girl’s sides, making her jolt. “How could you keep this from us?”

“Stop! Oh my god, I’m sorry, jeez!” Aaliyah whispered-yelled. “Listen, I was half drunk and scared for Car and Nika to piece things together, okay? Besides, I had to worry about preparing questions for pop quiz over the weekend. And then my rent was due. Don’t even mention about getting Oreo to the vet because of his ear infection-“

“Okay, you have adult things to do, we get it!” Arnold interjected, annoyed at her friend for keeping something she deemed was a really big secret.

Kayla couldn’t keep her smile from forming. “You guys don’t think-“

“What are you guys talking about?” A familiar voice startled the group of ladies.

As soon as they whipped their heads to the source, they were met with Paige and Azzi who were holding their lunch.

The women started scrambling, some resuming to munch on their food, some fumbling in their words trying to get a response out.

“Oh, you know, Aaliyah’s sick puppy,” Mühl was able to answer coolly.

“Oh, Aaliyah, I’m so sorry,” Azzi sympathised as she sat down, Paige following suit.

“H-he’s better now. Thanks, Az,” The taller girl couldn’t help but feel baffled over the sudden attention to her dog.

“So…you two seem to be very close,” Williams smiled, almost scheming.

Azzi bit her cheeks as she opened her lunch box. “I think we all have, no? We did do a bit of team building last week”.

“Is the team building in the room with us?” KK whispered while snickering. Paige couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, being she was the one sitting closer to her.

But Paige could see Azzi tense up under the guise of eating in nonchalance, her eyes scattering as she couldn’t exactly look her friends in the eye. After all, it felt like she was being interrogated by a large group of people, let alone at her workplace.

Suddenly, Azzi felt a warm touch on her thigh. The blonde had placed her hand on it under the table, her thumb rubbing on her knee hoping to ease the curly brunette’s mind. Azzi could only take pleasure in the feeling as she just continued to chew on her sandwich, her muscles beginning to relax.

And then Paige stared at Nika. “Dude, I’m still not forgiving you for vomiting on my shoes, by the way. Great team building. Now I know who to never go out drinking with”

Nika scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t smell horrible! Never wear that musky shit near me”.

“It’s Valentino. You just have poor taste. And shit alcohol tolerance”.

The group laughed as Nika was about to pounce on her, the tension beginning to subside.

Throughout lunch, Paige kept her hand resting on Azzi’s thigh, rubbing it occasionally when she’d remembered. It only took a few seconds for Kayla to realise her friend had scooted marginally closer to Paige, perhaps to lean in for comfort or to make the distance easier for her arm.

Kayla gave Azzi a knowing smile before joining in the momentum of the conversations.

If it's one thing for certain, as curious as the girls were about this new romantic telenovela unfolding before them, they prioritised respecting the pair even more. Of course, they had to be mature about it, they were all adults, after all. But they’d also like to think a little teasing and plotting wouldn’t hurt anyone.

—

“I’m afraid they won’t stop playing detective” Azzi told Paige as they walked down the hallway together. It sort of became a ritual for the blonde to drop Azzi to her class when she had free time, a kind gesture for…new friends.

“It’s inevitable. They weren’t as invasive as I thought they would be, though,” Paige smiled, her attention way too focused on the curly brunette.

The pair didn’t really talk much about that night. Their approach to it being quite unique to them, very casual. Regardless, they liked the subtle intimacy they have. Sure, there’s a mutual fondness for each other so far, giving lingering touches or speaking about certain personal matters, but they don’t dwell on it too much. For Paige, she had thought for a while that it could overcomplicate things and, for Azzi, it was more of fear towards her overthinking. That perhaps she’d be too overbearing once they eventually address it.

“Well, at least they’re self-aware. They know better than not to push me too hard,” The shorter girl mumbled the latter sentence, blurting it out absentmindedly as she looked straight ahead.

“Why’s that?” the blond asked curiously, unsure if Azzi was just saying it a joke or not.

As soon as Azzi went silent, Paige could tell it was something more serious.

“Oh, you know, just my past and stuff,” The younger girl tried to act dismissively. The blonde nodded in silence, understanding well not to press any further than Azzi wanted to. In fact, Paige herself would not be ready to open Pandora's box of her own past either.

“You know, I really admire you, Azzi”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Wait, where’s all this coming from?”

“I’m being serious. You’re a great teacher. You go above and beyond for this school and you care so much for the kids that you treat them like they’re your own. Like take my first few gym classes, for example, they always talk about how they’d rather you teach them because I’m ‘too bossy’ and that I don’t let them ‘voice their opinions’. They’re middle schoolers!”

Azzi moved her head in skepticism. “Did you do something I’m not supposed to find out?”

Paiged grunted. “Can you take the compliment for one second? Geez!”

Azzi conceded, her hands raising up in surrender. “Okay, okay, okay. But that’s just called being a decent adult, no? They’re already stressed with needing to get good grades so they can get a ‘good paying job’… they don’t need more adults nagging in their faces about it. Besides, I also think you’re doing a good job for someone who just started. You give them tough love, but it pushes them to be strong, you know? I could learn a thing or two from you, too”

Paige smiled in agreement, looking at Azzi with pride. “And that’s why I’m your favourite teacher, right?”

“Please, I think KK takes the title since she teaches high school math,” Azzi scoffed, trying to hide her smile. Paige frowned.

“Oh, that’s unlucky. ‘Cause you’re my favourite teacher, actually,” Paige lowered her head as she glanced at Azzi through her lashes, her hands behind her back as she looked at her in anticipation. A lame posture that can look charismatic.

Azzi shook her head at the way Paige tried to flirt, stifling a smile as to not give her any satisfaction.

As the air around them began to shift, they were suddenly met with a rather stout, shorter figure approaching them.

“Ms. Fudd! Moore’s favourite,” a gentle yet gruff voice sang, alerting the pair.

“Oh, hey, Principal Auriemma,” Azzi quickly redirected her sullen expression to a smile.

“I just wanna apologise again about terminating Ms. Smith’s contract. You taking up the job of two people is truly not fair. But I’m doing my best to find a recruit asap,” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

He continued. “But, I’m afraid I have even more terrible news, depending on how you take it.”

The pair gave each other a quick glance.

“As you know, Moore’s winter recital is coming up. And you must know better than me how much that means for a lot of our kids and their parents. And you’ve always done fantastic in designing the props every year. But with Ms. Smith gone and Ms. White coming back from maternity leave by the end of next month, I’ve been doing my best to ask the other teachers for help, truly, but they all seem too busy, so-“

“I can help,” Paige interrupted before Principal Auriemma could finish.

Both him and Fudd turned their heads to the taller woman, Azzi surprised.

“You said it before I could, Ms. Bueckers,” He smiled. “If that’s okay?”

“I’m always happy to help, Big G,” Paige gave a charming smile, her hands clasped behind her back as she gave a single nod.

Principal Auriemma gave a loud laugh before reaching his hand out. To Azzi’s surprise, the pair dapped each other up.

And as soon as he left the two women alone in the hallway, the curly brunette couldn’t help but laugh at what she just witnessed.

“This is KK’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, she’s honestly great influence”

As the pair giggled on their continuing path, Paige asked. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

Azzi sighed. “Well, I like to plan ahead, so I’ll make a list. We definitely need to buy some more art supplies. We can reuse the spares from last year, which could reduce overspending the budget. Wait, I don’t even know if the music and drama club students planned anything since Ms. White’s not here. Are we copying the one from two years ago? Do I have to make a new set? God, I think our Christmas Tree might even been broken-

“Azzi, Azzi, Azzi,” Paige repeated calmly, gently grabbing Fudd’s hands while her thumbs caressed them. “Breathe, please”.

The curly brunette took a deep breath before she locked eyes with Paige.

“Sorry, I feel like I have a lot on my plate right now”

“That’s why I’m here to help, right?” Azzi gave her a simple nod. “I’ll do what you need me to do since I’ve got a free period. We’ll think about everything else after school, okay?

“Okay,” Fudd croaked. “You wouldn’t mind accompanying me after school to buy our supplies?”

“Of course,” Paige smiled, her thumbs still caressing her hands.

Azzi stifled a laugh. “Okay, you can let go now”.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” The blonde grinned, her hands now gripping tighter.

They stared into each other’s eyes, one looking teasingly while the other rolling in frustration. The curly brunette was trying to pull her hands away, tugging as formally as she can without seeming too erratic. Paige stood firmly, not moving an inch, her grin remaining.

Before her defeat, Azzi turned her head with wide eyes.

“Principal Auriemma!” Azzi gasped. Paige jumped as she ripped her hands off, a nervous expression plastered on her face while she turned to where Fudd looked.

Paige saw nobody in the hallway. And Azzi was able to escape, jogging back to her class. The blonde stood alone, hands on her hips as she smiled in defeat.

—

“Freaking cheater,” The blonde startled Azzi, who was waiting idly by the gym doors.

Azzi rolled her eyes smiling as they made their way towards the exit. “You need to stop pulling that stuff here. There’s kids around, not to mention our coworkers”.

“I know, I know. I just like messing with you,” Paige shrugged, nudging her arm on Azzi’s.

“I swear you act like a high school boy sometimes,” Azzi shook her head.

“That hurts, Az. Then I guess I won’t tell you what the kids at drama club prepared for,” Paige sighed, her strides getting longer as she walked further away.

“Alright, alright, fine. But, just so you know, I won with that one,” Azzi insisted, catching up to the blonde. And Paige just let her.

After the blonde gave her the run down all the way to Fudd’s car, Azzi was relieved they didn’t have to buy much. From Paige’s intel, the kids will be redoing the songs and activities from their recital two years ago, that was as much as the high schoolers could conjure up for their school with their teacher gone.

And, in no time, the pair had driven to Walmart, ticking off everything from Azzi’s checklist before returning home to the Fudd-Ducharme household with full hands.

“Just put them on the floor there. Sorry for the mess. I’ll go get us some water,” The curly brunette panted as she dropped the bags by their sofa before heading to the kitchen to pour themselves a glass.

Paige let out sound breath before plopping herself on their brown couch, a softness to that could lull anyone to sleep. As their bodies relaxed in the quietness, Paige couldn’t help but observe her surroundings, appreciating the earth tones and somewhat eclectic design.

“Hmm, you’ve got a nice place. It feels really cozy,” The blonde sighed as her body assimilated into the sofa.

Azzi approached their living room, handing out a glass of water to Paige.

“Thanks, we worked hard on it. Trust me, this place looked like shit when we first moved in,” Azzi contorted her face in disgust as she reminisced, settling down next to Paige who sat up to take the glass off her.

“Well, you sure you’re not trying to revert back to it? Because what is all that?” Paige laughed as she pointed at the cardboard boxes accompanied by scattered tools on the ground right outside her bedroom door.

Azzi realised before laughing herself, semi-embarrassed at the state she left her house in. “Stop, I just got a new bed frame, okay? Car was helping me out yesterday, but I didn’t get time to clean up before school started.”

Paige found an opportunity. “Hm, someone got a li’l too freaky”.

“Yeah, well at least I got more game than you,” Azzi scoffed.

The blonde raised her brows. “What makes you think I don’t have any game?”

“You seem like a one-person-at-a-time individual”

“Yeah, so I can take my time talking them through it,” Paige remarked suggestively, her voice confident.

“Paige,” Azzi warned before the blonde chuckled.

“We’re not in school, so I can mess with you, can’t I?”

Azzi could only bite her cheek, unable to find a comeback. She couldn’t exactly discern the true intentions of those words, her brain already interpreting it as something that would raise the hairs of her skin.

“Speaking of Caroline, where is she?” Paige asked curiously as she sipped on her glass.

“Oh, she won’t be here for two days. Her cousin had an emergency, so she’s babysitting until they come back,” Fudd answered. "Speaking of which, I have to text her you're staying for dinner".

Hmm, how convenient, Paige muttered as she placed her glass on the table in front of them.

“Hm?” Azzi tilted her head, certain of what she heard, but still wanted to make sure.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing…” The blonde tried to dismiss, her body position now fully turning to Azzi, one arm on top of the sofa as her head rested on her hand.

And they just sat there staring at each other, these moments happening more and more frequently, always leaving them at a loss for words. But it was hard not to get trapped in each other’s eyes. It was as if they tried to search for unspoken answers every time, a need to do something.

“Well, I-I’m gonna order us some take out. I don’t really have left overs except for fruits, sorry,” Azzi scrambled to fetch her phone from her pocket.

Paige reached out her hand to stop Azzi. “No, it’s okay, I got you. You ran around getting all these supplies, it’s the least I can do.”

Azzi nodded. “Okay…then I’m gonna take a quick shower. I dunno how long you’ll stay tonight, but if you wanted to take one as well-”

“You asking me to join you?”

Azzi closed her eyes. “You know, at some point I’m gonna get tired of that, right?”

Paige laughed through her nose. “And I’m surprised you haven’t stopped me already”.

“Whatever. I’m gonna leave some clothes out for you,” Azzi said as she entered her room. Paige hummed in response while scrolling through the Noodles & Company menu.

Fifteen minutes later, Paige heard the common bathroom door swing open, the steam coming out as a figure came into her peripherals. For some reason, her heart started racing. Perhaps it was the subtle eroticism of it all, a possibly semi-naked Azzi within the same vicinity. And it was ironic, really, given she wasn’t afraid of almost seeing it all that night. But this time felt different. She didn’t want to raise her head too much, knowing that she wanted to give Azzi as much privacy as she could.

I’m not some creep, Paige thought.

But the freshly cleaned girl started approaching Paige. And the blonde could only clench her jaw, her eyes glued to her phone as a distraction. And just then Azzi bent down in front of her causing the blonde to jerk, her head instinctively raising up.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I left my phone here”. Azzi was already dressed in her home clothes, they were simple. A grey shirt paired with black shorts. And she was scrunching her wet hair with a towel, trying not to drip water on the small carpet. Paige found the sight adorable. However, she was still stuck in a trance, her heart thumping for her ears only to hear.

“Paige, you good?” Azzi stifled a laugh. “Did you think I was just gonna walk around naked or something?”

A warmth grew on the blonde’s cheeks. “Absolutely not,” she replied in denial.

“Right, right. Well, the shower’s ready, just so you know,” Azzi pointed out the obvious, grinning at the state of the woman in front of her.

“Right, um, also order’s on its way, so…yeah, okay,” Paige stammered before quickly getting up, leaving the living room as Azzi continued to smile.

It was rare for Azzi to catch moments where she’d get Paige flustered, but when it happens, it’d stroked her ego just a tad bit.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and Paige had left the bathroom, fully clothed and her hair damp. As soon as she approached Azzi who was sitting on the sofa, she folded her arms in disappointment.

“Really?” was all the blonde could say before the younger girl bursted out laughing.

Azzi had given her an all bright pink attire. An oversized pink shirt with bejeweled lettering spelling out ‘Princess’ across the chest paired with shorts of the same colour.

“What? I think it looks good on you!” Azzi exclaimed with a wide smile.

The blonde let out a deep breath before plopping herself heavily beside Azzi. The curly brunette turned herself fully to Paige, her head propped up by her own hand as it rested on the head of the sofa. Feeling betrayed, the blonde turned her head the other way.

“Paige, quit sulking. You’re being a baby right now,” Azzi shoved her shoulder with her free hand.

The blonde continued to mope, not giving the curly brunette any attention. But a small smirk etched on her face where it was hidden from Azzi.

Azzi sighed. “Alright, fine”

As Azzi looked onto the blonde woman, she couldn’t help but stare at her cheeks like it’s free real estate. The curly brunette can’t lie, she craved being in any form of intimacy with Paige ever since that night. It left her on a cliffhanger, so she can’t help it when her body starts to learn towards her.

Before Paige knew it, Fudd planted a kiss on her cheek. The blonde slightly jolted before turning her head to finally face Azzi. Smile beaming as if she was waiting for that moment.

And then Bueckers pecked her lips, returning the favour, her eyes half-closed in a cheeky smile.

But before Paige let go, Azzi pushed her face forward, reattaching their lips together.

It was needy, yet tender. Impatient, yet delicate. A type of crave that could only be felt by the pair. The younger woman slid closer, deepening the kiss as she gripped Paige’s waist, the blonde’s hand remaining on her jaw as her thumb caressed Azzi’s cheek.

Paige realised that Azzi liked to kiss on her bottom lip a lot. Capturing it, sucking then biting before the blonde let out a breath in arousal.

“Hmm…you’re so pretty, Az”

Feeling warm all over by her voice, Azzi draped her thighs over Paige’s lap, straddling it in remembrance of that night. The older woman instinctively gripped Fudd’s waist, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss even more. Their breaths were muffled, their moans swallowing each other. Azzi’s hands travelled up to cup Paige’s jaw possessively, while the blonde’s hands rubbed up her back and down her ass.

Then Azzi started grinding subtly on Paige’s core, their bodies heated. Sloppy and messy, their kiss became hungrier, their tongues continued to entangle in each other, minds growing fuzzy.

Ding dong.

The girls paused, panting. Azzi’s hands stayed gripping Paige’s jaws, the blonde’s hands glued to her ass. But their lips were magnetised and they leaned in again, resuming their make out session. It was turning them on even more, their kisses breathless-

Ding.

It was Paige’s phone notifying of the successful delivery, waking the pair up from their trance. They looked at each other rather dissatisfied by the interruption, but they soon realised they needed to eat first.

Just as Azzi was about to slowly get off Paige’s lap, the blonde pulled her back and gave her another peck.

“I’ll go get it,” Paige smiled dopily before turning Azzi’s hips to the side to settle her gently on the sofa.

Azzi smiled shyly, acting busy by moving the coke bottles on the table unnecessarily on the table she had already set. And soon enough, Paige returned with a paper bag, taking out two big containers in excitement.

“Here’s my Wisconsin Mac & Cheese, and here’s your Chicken Cobb Salad…hmm, look at all those greens in there,” Paige contorted her face in disgust.

Azzi let out a small laugh. “For a PE teacher, you sure eat unhealthy”.

“Life’s too short to trap people in a box. Let me live, Azzi,” Paige dramatically exasperated, causing the younger woman to roll her eyes.

The sun had already set and the darkness of Azzi’s home was illuminated by the array of sunset and accent lamps around the apartment. The ambient low-lighting casting shadows throughout, a perfectly cozy vibe for a weekday night.

Azzi had switched on the TV, a random movie playing as the pair were busy munching on their dinner, the atmosphere comforting.

As the flow of the night continued, the pair laughed as they shared stories of their past, mostly the weird era of college. Azzi discovered that Paige studied nursing for two years before switching majors, the reason being the financial burden and the burnout. And that she had a roommate who secretly kept a pet spider that one day escaped and conveniently sat on her pillow one night - her trauma for creepy crawlers more apparent since then. Paige learnt that Azzi’s first reason she started drawing as a kid was because she wanted to picture herself kissing Nick Jonas. And that her two younger brothers admired her so much to a point where they would insist on wearing her clothes to school to be just like her.

After dinner, the pair made their way to the kitchen. They threw away their empty containers and miscellaneous things in the trash before Paige went to wash her hands.

As she waited for them to dry, Paige leaned her back on the kitchen counter behind Azzi, watching her use the sink. When the curly brunette turned around, she was surprised at the blonde eyeing her down.

“Yes?” Azzi asked, her tone playful as she leaned her back on the sink counter.

“I kinda…don’t wanna leave yet,” The blonde pushed herself off the counter, walking over to where Azzi stood, her arms instinctively reaching out to grab her waist.

They just smiled in their intimate embrace, Azzi’s hands intuitively trailing upwards to wrap them around Paige’s neck, tilting her head before replying.

“So stay,” she whispered like she was lovesick. Then she leaned her face towards the blonde’s neck, giving feathery kisses, almost like she was trying to persuade her to stay.

Paige’s knees almost buckled this time, Azzi’s wet lips tickling on her skin. It was not like she was going to leave anyways.

As the curly brunette continued peppering sweet kisses on her jaw in neediness, the blonde couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. She liked how possessive Azzi held onto her, not wanting to let her go.

In an instant, Paige bent her knees, lowering her arms below Azzi’s ass and, in one quick motion, she swiftly lifted her up. Azzi gasped at the romantic gesture. Reacting almost immediately, Azzi wrapped her thighs around Paige’s waist, securing herself as she looked at Paige with dark eyes.

It was bewitching and greedy, the cozy mood of Azzi’s dark apartment paired with the thought of them being all alone. Their hooded eyes stared mindlessly at each other’s mouth, the air around them thickening.

“Az, please,” Paige whispered.

Immediately, Azzi crashed her lips onto Paige’s, the moan they let out was lewd. The younger woman could feel Paige turn them around, slowly walking to the counter behind her and placing Azzi on the cold surface. The curly brunette shivered, but she kept Paige close, tightening her thighs around her as they continued to make out, Azzi’s hands finding home in Paige’s jaws.

Then Paige moved her hands. She snaked one long arm around Azzi’s waist while her other free hand fiddled with the hem of Azzi’s shirt. The older woman needed to feel her, she wanted more from that night, she wanted more of Azzi.

And just then, Paige hands went under her shirt, roaming Azzi’s ribs and sending shivers down her spine before ultimately cupping her breast.

“Hhh, Paige,” was all Azzi could breathe out.

The blonde started fondling it, squeezing and playing with the nipple. A moan escaped from Azzi’s mouth in between their make out session.

“You like that?” Paige's voice sent vibrations on Azzi’s lips.

“Mmm, yeah,” Azzi stammered, relishing in the touch.

As their movements grew more sensual, Azzi removed her lips, their foreheads touching. They grinned with closed eyes, giddy from the tension.

“Hmm?” Paige just hummed, wondering why the woman in front of her paused.

“I got a new bedframe…” Azzi leaned her head a fraction backwards, the blonde’s face in full sight. The taller woman bit her lips with hooded eyes, waiting for Azzi to continue. “I…I wanna test it out”.

Paige could only smile dopily before whispering. “Yeah, I was kinda waiting for you to say that”.

The pair giggled before Paige lifted Azzi up from the counter. The younger woman hugged Paige close, the feeling of being held like that made Azzi’s heart flutter, as if she was the most delicate person in the world. And she couldn‘t help but find her lips back on Paige’s neck again as they moved, intentionally giving slow, smacking kisses which the blonde found pleasure with the sound.

As soon as they entered her bedroom, it only took a few seconds before Azzi felt some turbulence as Paige knelt on her bed, moving towards the centre before gently laying Azzi down on her back.

Paige hovered over Azzi, both arms planted on either side of her, while Azzi’s arms and thighs remained draped around Paige. Their faces are inches away from each other. The intimacy thickened as their breaths continued to cool them down, but Azzi didn’t want the heat to go away, instead pulling Paige’s neck lower.

“I wanna finish what we started that night,” the blonde breathed out.

“Please, just,” she whispered, trying to get their lips to meet. “I want you”.

But Paige redirected her lips on Azzi’s sweet spot right below her ear instead, giving a wet kiss before mumbling. “How bad?”

Azzi let out a breathy moan. “I…I…”

Azzi was feeling overstimulated as soon as Paige’s hand traveled under her shirt, kneading her breast again.

“How bad do you want me, Az?” Paige repeated, grinning in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Azzi was squirming, arching her back a little so that she could bring her body closer to Paige. “I’m wet,” Azzi whimpered faintly, just enough for Paige to hear.

In rushed fashion, Paige slightly lifted herself and took off her own shirt before tugging on the hem of Azzi’s shirt to pull it off her as well. Immediately the curly brunette reacted, lifting her back so Paige could remove it and throw them off to the side.

They didn’t waste any time revelling in their exposed skin, the sexual act all too familiar to them. Paige quickly leaned down again, making out with Azzi more aggressively with a type of devotion, letting out breaths in between the spaces between their tongues which became entangled in each other. Azzi roamed her fingers around Paige’s chest before landing on her breasts, kneading them as she slowly grinded their cores together, a moan escaping the blonde’s lips from the touch,

And then Paige travelled her lips down to Azzi’s breast, nibbling and sucking on it while her free hand fondled with the other, squeezing at the nipple, making Azzi moan harder. After several seconds, Paige started to go lower, giving long, sensual strides of licks down across her abdomen, Azzi’s fingers gripping tighter on her hair as she took pleasure in the foreplay.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige mumbled in between her licks.

“Hmm,” Azzi could only sigh.

Just as Paige reached above Azzi’s centre, she latched her fingers onto the waistband of Azzi’s shorts. Paige looked up, nonverbally asking if it was okay. To which Azzi nodded, lifting her bottom slightly so Paige could tear the piece of clothing away.

The blonde marvelled at the sight, Azzi’s moist centre enticing. Immediately Paige plunged her lips onto it, making out with it first before she started sucking and flicking her tongue around her folds. The rhythmic yet irregularity of it all made Azzi dizzy while Paige moaned into it.

“Fuck, Paige”

“Hmm, you taste so good, Az”

Just then, the blonde slowly inserted her middle and ring finger into Azzi, eliciting a long, vulnerable moan from her. Paige’s long fingers started thrusting in and out, the squelching of the moist centre resonating across the room, never missing a beat as Azzi continued to whimper erratically.

“You…feel…so…good” The younger woman voiced after every thrust.

Paige took satisfaction in Azzi’s pleasure, her fingers quickening with the momentum of their lust as sweat started forming on their bodies. The curly brunette began kneading her own breasts as Paige continued her rapid, hypnotic movements. Azzi was at her peak.

“Paige, I’m gonna–“

“I got you, baby, let go,” Paige reassured as her lips hovered above her centre, eyes on Azzi’s face who was letting out erratic moans, messing up Paige’s hair as her fingers squeezed harder. Paige fastened her tempo, the exhaustion of her arm muscles gratifying.

And at her peak, Azzi let out a tight cry as she came onto Paige’s fingers, a sigh of relief heaved by the blonde as she watched the younger woman pant in satisfaction.

After slowly removing her fingers out, Paige licked them clean before carefully crawling back up to Azzi. She gently pushed the curly brunette over to her side before wiggling herself in between the bed and Azzi’s back. The blonde was big-spooning her, planting light kisses on her shoulder while their legs tangled with each other.

“You okay?” Paige asked, looking at Azzi in anticipation.

The younger woman sighed with a smile before taking Paige’s free arm and draping it across her abdomen herself. “Yeah, I just…need a minute”.

“Okay,” Paige whispered, pulling the woman in closer to her body.

They stayed in comfortable silence for several seconds, Paige’s breath tickling the back of the woman in front of her as their bodies gave each other warmth.

Azzi started. “How do you do it?”

Paige paused. “How do I do what?”

“I dunno, you have this way of making me feel comfortable about myself. I kinda hate it”

Paige twitched her head, raising her eyebrows. “What ever happened to saying ‘thank you’?

Azzi let out a small laugh. “Sorry, I just- thank you. You make me feel…nice.”

The blonde eased. “I guess it’s…from experience”.

It went silent for a moment. It wasn’t surprising to Azzi if Paige wasn’t a stranger to sex and romance, probably even having a roster, for all she cares. But the nonchalance was disconcerting.

“Hmm,” Azzi’s tone was subtly disappointed.

“What?”

Azzi paused. “Do they tell you that, too? That you make them feel nice?”

The sudden bluntness to Azzi’s question caught the both of them off guard. But the curly brunette stood by it, sighing as her eyes wandered around her room. There was a small tug from the corner of Paige’s lips, tightening her embrace with the younger woman.

“Yeah, they do. They also tell me they don’t appreciate it when I mess with them at work. Even though I know they kinda like it. You know, I think they’re probably obsessed with me, I mean, I’ve caught them stalking me sometimes”

The curly brunette suddenly turned her body around, her expression in annoyance as Paige babbled sarcastically.

“I can’t stand you sometimes”

Paige just smiled smugly. “I know”.

The blonde pulled Azzi closer by the waist, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. The younger woman closed her eyes, savouring the sweet gesture as it made her feel important and cared for. But it didn’t take long before those thoughts were suddenly replaced with fear and anxiety. Just as Paige was about to lean towards her lips, Azzi lowered her head, her expression sorrowful.

“Hey, is it something I did?” Paige asked concerningly.

“No, it’s not you. It’s um…” Azzi hesitated, her reasoning falling short due to the fact that it harboured a lot more scarring memories which she didn’t intend to revisit just yet.

“It’s okay”. Paige could only pull her into a hug, not really knowing what was going through Azzi’s mind but intuitively understanding that it was better to give her comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi muffled into her Paige’s bare chest.

“There’s nothing you need to apologise for, Az”

The curly brunette retracted her head, wanting to face Paige this time.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Paige let out a sigh through her nose, smiling with hooded eyes as an answer.

Their lips connected, this time more sweet and delicate. Paige held her tight, her touch consoling her. And soon the pair lulled themselves to sleep from the tiredness of the day.