#this has been building for months/maybe years forgive me

[stevieschrodinger]

"No." Chrissy crosses her arms over her chest.

Eddie flops onto the bed dramatically, fucks it up, and slides onto the floor.

"But what about-"

"No."

"Chrissy-"

"No. This is it. This is your last chance. No fucking about, no forgiveness, no come back, you get that, right?"

"Yeah but they said that every other-"

"The label is ready to drop you."

"What?" Eddie screeches and climbs up off the floor. He's shirtless and sweaty, his hair half sicking up half sticking to his sweat. "They can't do that."

"They can. They will. The lawyers are already involved, Gareth's ready to walk away."

Eddie feels like he's just been slapped. Punched. Like he fell maybe, like that moment when you're nearly asleep but your body jolts you awake, a half remembered dream that you just tripped and went head first off the stage. "You're lying-" Chrissy doesn't lie, "Gareth. The guys, none of them would-" but he sees it now, sees it through unfortunately sober eyes. See's it in the look on Chrissy's face. Can look back at the half remembered drugged up haze of all the shit Eddie's gotten up to over the last two years. All the times he didn't show. All the times he pulled bullshit. All the times he staggered into practice, late and drunk. All the times he turned up high. All the times his therapist has made him talk through his mistakes, to own them, to be truthful with himself about his problems.

Eddie can't have a drink. He can't smoke anything or inject anything or shove anything up his nose. He has to deal with it. He has to see it. There's a mirror next to Chrissy, big and ornate, and overdone, just like everything else in the room. Drug addict Eddie decorated this room, black and red and gilt. Arrogant vampire chic. Eddie thought it was cool. Four months of rehab and therapy and he's come back to a bedroom he fucking hates. The godamn carpet is black; who even buys black carpet? The top of the dresser is a mirror; easier for the coke.

Eddie should have torn it all out already.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He doesn't even remember getting some of the tattoos he has. He's too thin, bony, sick looking. His skin is flush pink with rut and there's a wet patch where the head of his cock hangs heavy. Chrissy does not give a shit.

"Eddie, honey. They all would. They all will. This is what I've been telling you. They are done. One more slip, and that's it. Rehab said absolutely no emotional entanglements while you're vulnerable-"

"I am not fucking vulnerable-"

"Nothing at all that could undermine your progress. No Omega's Eddie, I mean it. No drugs. No rut suppressors, no hormones, no nothing. Eddie I have been through this place with a fine tooth comb, I swear to god there's not so much as a Tylenol in this whole building."

"But what if I get a headache?" Eddie asks, suddenly feeling pathetic and weak as a kitten.

"Steve will get you an ice pack."

Eddie blinks, "who the fuck is Steve?"

"He's here to help you through your rut-"

"You said no Omega-"

"He isn't. He's a Beta, and he's the best there is at this. He will feed you, he will nest with you, anything you need, he will get it for you, he will look after you, he will let you scent him until your rut is done-"

"But-"

"Beta scent is calming!" Chrissy talks over Eddie, "this is not a sex thing, you need to rub one out do not do it in front of Steve. Do not piss him off, do not push his boundaries, am I clear? The center highly recommended him for this, okay?"

Eddie rankles with irritation, with displeasure.

Chrissy's nose crinkles at the scent, "look, I chose Steve to reduce the risk okay, male Beta is about the safest person you can be with right now. You have been clean for nearly five months Eddie, please. I am begging you, not for me, for you, you will hate yourself for the rest of your life if you fuck this up again. And actually also for me because watching them rush you into intensive care I-" She stops, looks at the floor, "for me Eddie- I cannot watch you go through something like that again, okay? I am asking you as your friend, please."

The OD was stupid; but Eddie had it in his head he was immortal at the time. "Okay Chris. Okay."

"Good. Thank you. I...won't hug you right now though."

Eddie looks down at the tent he's pitching in his sweats, "that's fair."

Chrissy opens the bedroom door and leaves, there's a man standing there. Eddie's preference isn't men, and Chrissy knows that. Hell, Eddie would take an Alpha over a Beta, and Chrissy knows that too.

Eddie takes a deep breath. The voice of his therapist mutters something about judging people by their desirability. They've talked a lot about Eddie judging people; can this person provide drink, drugs, or a fuck? No? Then what's the point of them.

It's a hard thing to change, when that's been your worldview for years. Even so, Eddie cannot see the point of this man; so he shuts the door in his face.

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.

Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N

A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)

(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)

(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)

(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)

It’s jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. It’s almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though you’re falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body can’t tell if you’re still alive.  

You’ve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, you’re thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body.  

“Fuuuuck,” it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth you’ve landed on, it doesn’t seem like it’s good.  

There’s blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned.  

You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash.  

Behind you, there’s panting. It’s heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”  

... 

You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasn’t working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range.  

The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting.  

You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself.  

“Who shit in your biscuit this morning?” Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you don’t roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had.  

Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasn’t looked away. “Whoever the hell sent me here, that’s who,” you respond. There’s pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. “Didn’t know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,” you nod your head towards Logan like you’re gesturing to him.  

It’s quiet. You’ve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply.  

“He isn’t,” and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you don’t know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didn’t deserve to be able to do that.  Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Logan’s still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. “The TVA,��� he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt. 

“Why did they bring him here?” You shake your head, brows furrowing further.  

Wade shifts his head side to side. “They didn’t bring him here, sunshine,” his voice perks up. “I did,” and he has the widest smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“I don’t,” you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. “I don’t even wanna know why or how,”  

“’Cause I'm Marvel Jesus,” is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. “Alrighty, Peanut, let’s get going home,” he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, you’ve got no idea), and there’s a little pep in his step. “C’mon puppy!” Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. “I’m going to go figure things out on my own,” he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isn’t able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again. 

“Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited far too long for this meetup!” Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like he’s struggling with a decision he’s about to make. “Blind Al isn’t all she’s cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,” he snickers a little. 

You’re really hoping it doesn’t last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). It’s homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. You’ve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them weren’t blind. 

It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who weren’t blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them.  

This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldn’t fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but there’s been worse you’ve interacted with.  

Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight.  

Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVD’s when you finally speak up. 

“Might wanna take a picture,” it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. “It’ll last you longer,” but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines.  

They always made their problems with you obvious. They’d never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldn’t figure out how to go about confronting it.  

“Who’re you?” Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant.  

You swallow thickly. “I’m not the person you think I am,” and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if there’s another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. “Whoever I am, or was, to you? That’s not who I am,” but you’d never met another one of you.  

There’s the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and there’s no way that it isn’t a beer bottle.  “I’ve never met you in my life. Have you?” Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him.  

He’s shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. “What the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?” You bark a laugh.  

“I’m just one of God’s fucked up mistakes, that’s what,” and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. “I really don’t know. My world didn’t have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,” Wade looks appalled.  

His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. “It’s like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,” you have to shake your head.  

Logan clears his throat. “What do you mean, your world didn’t have mutants,” you smile at him.  

“My timeline doesn’t exist anymore,”  

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance. 

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away. 

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night. 

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily. 

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved. 

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else. 

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone. 

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?” 

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet. 

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late. 

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave. 

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay. 

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months. 

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question. 

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away. 

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter. 

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart. 

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine. 

Until she’s not. 

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine. 

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck. 

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out. 

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion. 

 “I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers. 

“What?” 

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home. 

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind. 

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight. 

April 2033 

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age. 

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word. 

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her. 

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen. 

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother. 

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room. 

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it. 

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse. 

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too. 

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever. 

“Why would this be about Clémence?” 

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again. 

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown. 

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen. 

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks. 

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her. 

“Hey,” she whispers. 

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?” 

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029 

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave. 

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off. 

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had. 

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years. 

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown. 

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again. 

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it. 

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp. 

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could,  “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze. 

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever. 

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too. 

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back. 

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk. 

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug. 

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face. 

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs. 

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests. 

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women. 

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins. 

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking. 

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world. 

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette. 

“Clém-” Azzi sighs. 

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home. 

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand. 

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence. 

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip. 

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless. 

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up. 

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly. 

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently. 

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns. 

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air. 

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door. 

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles. 

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand. 

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally. 

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow. 

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously. 

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much. 

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound. 

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells. 

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right. 

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi. 

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first. 

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder. 

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs. 

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice. 

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

[just-jordie-things]

K so like its night time and y/n is cuddling with megumi and yuji barges in and sees them both and is like “You’re cuddling with megumi are you guys dating?! :O” then the next day everyone is just asking you “aRe YoU rEaLlY dAtInG mEgUmI???” By the way i love your posts❤️

megumi is just so perfect for secret dating bc he would beg you to keep your relationship a secret, like, right off the bat. like before you're even official- probably before he's even confessed.

omg.

megumi coming to you in a panic and it worries you bc you don't often see him stressed and the boy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and you're being so sweet to him meanwhile he's grabbing you by the hands and making you swear to not speak a word of this to yuji or nobara- and definitely not gojo. poor confused you are like "ok sure but what are you talking about??" oops megumi forgot about the part where he's supposed to tell you how much he likes you and thinks that you should give him a chance at making you happy- but we all know that goes well because you're literally in love with him already adlhgkajflkgh

and for a while you're pretty good at sneaking around, because it's sort of fun actually. every secret look or note passed has your heart racing and you wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you have each other.

but after a few months the two of you get fully settled with one another and you start to slip up. with megumi pulling your chair out for you or holding the door for you but not the others, you start to get a few questioning looks. and you might have called him megs in front of the others one time- he might not forgive you for that one because now everyone calls him that to get on his nerves... oops.

it's not like either of you are trying to get caught, you both enjoy the benefits of dating in secret so much, you don't necessarily want to give that up. the others will definitely berate and interrogate you one day for keeping your relationship a secret for so long, but... it's just so nice.

"maybe we tell them when we graduate?" you hum, trying to brainstorm with your boyfriend to find the proper way to break the news.

megumi's chest rumbles under your cheek when he groans. if it were up to him, no one would ever know. surely he could have a successful relationship with you that way, right? it's been easy enough to cover it up so far, surely you could elope and build a life together in secret as well? shit, would gojo take it personally if he didn't tell him he was getting married? suddenly his mind is swarming with what a secret private wedding would look like, meanwhile you're laying against him in sielnce waiting for his response.

"megs..?" you call softly, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.

"maybe we fake our deaths. relocate. how's italy sound?"

you chuckle, tilting your head back to peer up at him.

"you're afraid of gojo, aren't you?" you hum knowingly. megumi glances down at you briefly, looking away as soon as you wiggle your eyebrows. you chuckle again.

"i'd be open to other places, too" he continues his thought.

"i think we should just rip it off like a bandaid," you ignore his getaway plan. "tell them we're together and have been all year. then if they have questions-"

"i'm not answering their questions" his voice is a mere whisper, as not to disturb the calming atmosphere you've created, but his words are final. you tap your finger against his chest a few times.

"i'll answer the questions then, you can just... stand there"

"do i even have to be there?"

"i don't think they'll believe me if you aren't" you giggle at the idea of trying to convince them that yes that stoic moody boy is actually a complete romantic towards you and you never thought a love like yours could be possible.

"are you saying our friends don't think i'm boyfriend material?" he asks, and you know he's baiting you, but you're honest with him anyways.

"that's exactly what i'm saying," you say, grinning up at him despite the scowl of fake hurt on his face. "but i know otherwise"

"fine. we'll tell them. and then you can answer the questions. and i'll... be there. for emotional support"

you giggle some more, tucking yourself further against him while he stares at the ceiling in despair. he already knows all of the questions your friends are going to ask and he can't help but dread them in advance. still, it will be nothing compared to the interrogation he'll surely receive from his guardian, later, when you aren't around to protect him (and his dignity)

"it'll be nice to be able to just say we're going on a date instead of you faking to be sick and me pretending i'm on an assignment. sneaking around was fun and all but..." you trail off, and megumi averts his gaze from the plain ceiling, peeking down at you where you nuzzle into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. he knows you're going to fall asleep on him, because you always do, but he doesn't mind. even if it makes his arm fall asleep. "i don't want to hide how much i love you anymore"

and then his escape plan sounds silly when you put it like that. so he hugs you tighter against him as you start to drift off- he can tell as your head feels a little heavier against his collar- and he brushes his lips over the crown of your head.

"i love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "we'll tell them as soon as you want"

he just wasn't expecting the moment to be ruined by his door slamming open and your friends inviting themselves in, only to be shocked at the scene they interrupted.

queue the noisy accusations and questions. megumi tries not to say i told you so as you tiredly sit up and rub your eyes so you can answer all of your friends' curiosities, while he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend he wasn't there.

of course he doesn't want to hide that he loves you... but for fucks' sake do they have to do this here and now????

[warping-realities]

Brotherhood - A βΓΦ Story

This story was made with the approval of the absolutely fantastic @johnbrand and takes place in the universe he created in Catch (βΓΦ), which I totally recommend everyone read before diving into this one. Not just to make this one easier to read, but because he’s a really damn good writer!

“I could chill here all day doing this with you,” said the skinny eighteen-year-old with light brown hair, rocking a navy blue polo tucked into perfectly pressed khaki shorts while he kissed a shirtless ginger wearing nothing but sweatpants.

“Gavin, this is the first sign of acknowledgment your brother has shown in over two months since you’ve been at the same college as him. You gotta go.”

“Then come with me, Pat! It'll be way easier to face Trenton with you by my side!”

“Hell no, I’m not getting myself stuck at one of those frat parties voluntarily!”

“And you still wanna drag me along!”

“Babe, I was just kidding! If necessary, I’ll go over there, but I think it should be a moment just for you and your brother!”

“Fine! But don’t think I’ll be hanging around for long!”

…..

“What a damn party, Mr. President!” praised the handsome dude close to twenty, with light brown hair and a muscular build, rocking a light blue shirt and summer shorts.

“Thanks, bro, but I gotta say I’m bummed my special guest hasn’t shown up yet,” replied the slightly older blonde dude, just as jacked, wearing a white shirt and pristine white shorts.

“Special guest? Looks like everyone’s here…”

“Oh, but this is a super special guest, Trent. Someone I think should’ve been introduced to our fraternity a long time ago, but, you know, my own recruitment chairman hasn’t brought him to me.”

“I’m your recruitment chairman. What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your brother, of course! Why the hell didn’t you bring him to us?”

“I… I… it’s because… how do you know about Gavin?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Trenton.” said the blonde guy. “Did you really think you could hide this from me? Although the real question is, why?”

“Prez… you gotta understand Gavin isn’t like us… he’s not fraternity material…”

“Trent, he’s your brother, he’s got the same potential as you.”

“Sorry to disagree, but no. I’m the odd one in my family, my dad and my brother… dude, you’ll see. But honestly, you look way more like my brother than he does, Chance.”

“Thanks, bro, makes me wanna almost forgive you for keeping stuff from me. And I forget you’re still out of the loop on everything…”

“Out of the loop on what?”

“You’ll find out soon… oh look who’s coming! I knew someone who is your brother would have some guts.” Chance grinned, pointing to the young guy approaching. Gavin looked pretty uncomfortable but walked into their territory with his head held high and a defiant look. “Why don’t you go greet him, bro?”

“Alright, but honestly, I don’t see this conversation going anywhere.” Trent replied, a bit annoyed, as he walked toward his brother. “What the hell are you doing here, Gavin?”

“Good morning to you too, brother. And you’re the one who sent me that message on Instagram inviting me to come, like you didn’t have my cell number.”

“You dumbass, it was one of the guys from my fraternity who sent that. If I wanted to talk to you, you’d know it.”

“I guess that makes sense since you’ve barely talked to me since we got in the car at Dad’s house. Is this because of Patrick?”

“Dude, I’m not talking about your boyfriend in the middle of my frat party. We’ve established that I didn’t invite you here, so why don’t you just bounce?”

“Why would one of your bros call me here?” Gavin asked, making a quote gesture with his hand.

“I don’t know, maybe to pull a prank on me, make me look like an idiot with a brother like you… just go away, Gavin.”

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“What…?”

“Well, I was invited, wasn’t I? So maybe I wanna stick around and see what my big bro finds so damn interesting about this place!”

“You can’t be serious, you little shit, I…” Trent didn’t finish his sentence before being interrupted by one of his bros.

“Hey, Trent, dude!”

“What’s up, Bear???”

“I need your help here, Beer Pong competition with two hot chicks.”

“Just a sec, bro.” he replied before turning angrily to his younger brother. “Do whatever you want, but if you make me look bad, I’ll mess you up, and Dad isn’t here to protect you, you crybaby.” He concluded as he walked away.

“I can’t believe I had to go through that.” Gavin thought, retracing his steps, only to be blindsided when two of Trent’s huge bros sprinted past him in some kind of dumb game, spilling a ridiculous amount of beer all over him.

“Sorry, little bro… my bad!”

“Rip and Skip, you big idiots, the kid is soaked! Sorry, man, these two are just brainless. I’m Chance, president of the frat, and you’re Gavin, Trent’s little bro. Nice to meet you, Gav.”

“I’d prefer if you called me Gavin.”

“Negative, you’re my brother’s brother, so we’re family, and in family, everyone needs a nickname. Chance isn’t actually my name, though sometimes I forget that. But no one, not even my dad, calls me Conrad. So you’re Gav, come with me, little bro, let’s get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes.”

“Thanks for the kindness, Conrad… Chance…” Gavin quickly corrected himself, seeing a dangerous glint in the much bigger guy’s eyes. “But I was about to leave, I’ll clean up in my dorm.”

“Negative again, Gav. You just got here, and I’m not letting you leave without getting to know a bit about the fraternity, and what kind of host would I be if I let two morons mess you up and then just leave without cleaning up the mess? Come with me.” Chance said, walking toward the big house. Not wanting to be rude, Gavin followed him.

“So… you were the one who sent me the invite through my brother’s Instagram?”

“Guilty, but it was with good intentions. You’re not a legacy since you’re not the son of a brother, but we don’t usually let brothers of brothers pass by unnoticed.”

“You… want me… want me in your fraternity?” Gavin asked, shocked.

“Why the surprise? Your brother is one of my chairmen; it’s natural to think about having you here with us.” Chance replied, leading Gavin to a room that looked like it had been hit by an explosion. There were clothes scattered all over the place, books and study materials in the corners, along with empty beer bottles and energy drink cans.

“Dude, what a pigsty, but your brother isn’t the most organized bro in the world. Though he makes up for it with charisma.”

“This is Trenton’s room?”

“Yep, normally he’d be sharing with another brother, but our selection process this year isn’t over yet. Here’s your chance to reconnect.”

“I… he’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want any kind of relationship with me. I don’t think forcing myself into his life is gonna change anything.”

“Sit down and dry off.” Chance said, offering a towel that Gavin could’ve sworn hadn’t been washed recently. Still, not wanting to be rude, he took it from the other man’s outstretched hand and started to wipe himself down, feeling the musk of his brother spreading over his body as his dick started to harden. “Ugh, gross, what kind of reaction is that from smelling my brother’s body?” he thought, letting the towel drop as a wave of numbness washed over him, leaving him frozen.

“Finally,” Chance exclaimed cheerfully. “You’re in for one hell of a trip, little bro! But you and I are gonna enjoy every second of it!” He said, getting closer to Gavin’s frozen body and putting his own shades on the kid’s face. “I love this part, but something in the pledges’ eyes bothers me, so it’s better this way.”

“You must be wondering what the hell is going on, right, Gav? So, we’ve got little time for me to explain because soon you won’t even remember this little chat. So let’s start with the reasons. The most obvious one is I can’t let a nerdy little queer run around and tarnish my fraternity’s name just because he’s the brother of one of my chairmen. The second is that this woke culture, feminists, wimps, and communists have been trying to undermine the secular structures of our institutions for years, so we found a way to ensure our continuity. Ahhh, it’s starting, nice calves, little bro! They really remind me of mine… hehehehe.

Anyway, what this bunch of wimps forget is that our main goal has always been to create the right kind of men for society, proactive men, capable of making tough decisions and shaping our country. They look from the outside and think a fraternity is just parties and fun, but it’s from fraternities that the great politicians, military leaders, and businessmen of our beloved nation have come, men that even their patriotism the snowflakes dare to criticize. Just like your brother, when I met Trent last year, he was worse than you; he and Bear, who at the time insisted on being called Bernard, they were organizing some annoying protest against the toxic masculinity culture of fraternities, but it only took one touch from me on a prepped pen and boom, two new brothers ready to mess with that bunch of losers who, without their two leaders, scattered quickly. Wow, this core is looking way better, little bro, I’m thinking about where we’re gonna place you. Maybe on the Lacrosse team with your big bro.

Ah, Trent, the brother I never had, about to become my VP, and suddenly I find out he’s hiding a younger brother from me. You might not see the implications of this, little bro, especially now with billions of nanobots running through your body and adjusting it to my parameters, a younger brother to keep my legacy alive, which should’ve happened the moment you stepped foot in this college or any other with a Beta Gamma Phi chapter, but Trent hid you from us. What led the people above me to two conclusions: either the shame of having someone like you as a brother led him to this, especially since he hasn’t been initiated into all the mysteries and rituals of our fraternity, or my DNA and my traits didn’t total overdrive what he was before, which could be concerning. Either way, the solution to both problems is the same: you, or better yet, what you’re becoming. If there are no more faggy meek little brothers, there’ll be no reason for shame and there won’t be any residual memory of an old life that doesn’t matter anymore. And we’re almost there! Damn, little bro, you ended up bigger than I expected, I think you’re gonna crush me on the football team, and that’ll be a real kick in the ass for Trent, who I get to spend more time with you than he does, little bro, a small punishment for hiding you from me!” Chance finished with a nearly psychotic grin.

Gavin, for his part, didn’t stand a chance. As the torrent of technology invaded every cell of his body, conforming his DNA to Chance's primordial traits with just a few tiny differences to distinguish the two, his muscles expanded and reshaped, taking on aesthetic proportions that no eighteen-year-old could reach without serious dedication and effort or… the perfect genetics for that. At the same time, his mind was flooded with a whirlwind of new memories that quickly erased the old ones. Afternoons spent reading Zamyatin’s works became afternoons in the gym focusing on achieving the aesthetic physique of Zyzz; the knowledge that he got into college on a scholarship for his grades turned into the knowledge that it was all due to the athletic feats he accomplished. The interest in studying to become a lawyer focused on environmental causes faded into a vague, distant thought of working in finance or something that would make him easy money when college was over. The fights and arguments with his older brother, with their dad needing to intervene, transformed into moments of partying and camaraderie, with the two uniting against their much smaller and frailer progenitor. Finally, the tender, passionate kisses shared with his high school boyfriend who came to college with him turned into an endless list of young women deflowered and discarded and an annoying roommate he couldn’t wait to get rid of. When his body hit its peak and his mind was completely rewritten, he came in his own underwear, and a smile spread across his face. A smile reflected in the face of the biggest idol he had on campus, he could love his brother, but he wanted to be just like Chance, which ironically he was, though he’d never know it.

“Flex for me!” was Chance’s last command before Gavin’s reboot was complete.

“Daydreaming, little bro? Your brother sent me to check on you; dude, this room is a pigsty. When you’re officially living here, I expect a bit more organization.”

“What’s up, Chance, you sound like my dad!” replied the muscular guy, relaxing his flexed muscles and grinning, before taking the red cup the older man offered him.

“Someone’s gotta be responsible around here, and if it’s not the president, I wonder who it will be. Something I’m gonna need to remind your brother and you too if you ever wanna be in my position. Now go take a shower and throw on some decent clothes, the party’s been going on for a while, and all the other pledges are already there. Just because you’re the brother of a chairman doesn’t mean you get any privileges, or more privileges, since apparently your brother’s so in the loop he’s letting you crash here.”

“If you had my roommate, you’d get why I’m running away to here.”

“Don’t worry, soon that’ll be sorted out. Now hurry up and get ready, you stink.”

….

“So, did you put a little fear of God into the kid? I swear he’s a damn insubordinate little shit, but it seems like he listens to you.”

“Well, every good wolf knows to obey the alpha of the pack.”

“Fuck off, Chance, everyone in this damn place is an alpha.”

“But some are more alpha than others, little bro! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised a game to Kip and Skip. Good luck with our little bro, but between us, by tomorrow night he’ll be in for sure!”

“Of course, he might be a cocky little shit, but he’s my cocky little shit of a brother, he was born to be here.”

“True! Why don’t you guys join us? From what I saw in his school videos, he’s got a good throwing arm, even though he’s here for the rowing team, I think he could be a solid backup for me in intramurals.”

“Imagine the arrogance if he becomes the QB of the frat team…” Trent muttered to himself while watching the president wander off.

“Well, it’s a family trait.” Gav replied, approaching his brother. “So what’s up, big bro?”

“So, the Prez had a chat with you?”

“Man, Chance is so cool!”

“He let you suck his dick, huh? You’re looking way too happy…”

“Ew, dude, don’t hit me with that fairy stuff!”

“Well, the way you talk about him, it sounds like you’re dying for him to get in your pants!”

“Is it just me or is my big bro getting jealous?”

“Ha, as if you’d want that.”

“Shit, speaking of fags… what’s he doing here?” Gav commented to his brother, spotting a skinny redhead approaching.

“Who’s the dweeb?”

“He’s the reason I’m crashing in your room every night. He’s my fag roommate. I’m pretty sure he stares at me while I sleep, that creepy fairy. I’ll kick him outta here!” Gav said, getting ready to boot the other guy, but was stopped by the frat president’s voice.

“Catch!” he shouted, tossing a football in the kid’s direction, which he surprisingly caught before being swarmed by a crowd of frat bros and hot chicks congratulating him for the catch. When everyone pulled away, it revealed a strong redhead wearing a green shirt stepping up to the two.

“Not bad for a wrestling team member, huh?” he said, oozing arrogance.

“Hey, Rick. You certainly took your sweet time getting here.”

“As if I didn’t know you were sleeping until just now in Trent’s room. By the way, thanks for letting Gav crash there tonight, Trent, I’ve been wanting to hook up with that hot Tri Delta girl for weeks.”

“No problem, little bro. Now toss the ball over here, and let’s show all these hotties what the βΓΦ bros are made of.”

…..

“And how many times did you need to pull that tactic? Anyone I know?” asked the new VP of the fraternity as he prepared to take over his position in the first meeting of the semester after the new members joined, glancing at his brother and his best friend giving him a thumbs up.

“A few, unfortunately. There’s all sorts of problems and unwanted people we gotta deal with to keep the frat running smoothly, and nothing better than solving those problems by signing them to our hall of facilitators, but no, no one you know, bro. I’m super proud to have you as VP, Trent. Especially knowing Gav is gonna follow in your footsteps. You two and Rick are more than just the little bros life gave me; I consider you guys part of me, bro!”

“I didn’t know you were such a softy and sentimental, bro!” Trent replied with a mischievous grin.

“Shut up, you ashoole. I’m sure one day you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Once a βΓΦ always a βΓΦ!” he shouted to the gathered members before officially starting the chapter meeting. Being answered in unison by everyone present.

“Once a βΓΦ , always a βΓΦ.”

[httpisaoki]

forgive or forget ft. yu jimin

-> part one. next. not proofread !

warnings. mentions of divorce, reader is referred as 'han junhi'. that's all i think?

"don't...just..give me one more chance-" she wasn't done, her words faltered, her mouth drying out. she didn't want to sign the divorce papers, she wanted to run, to escape the fact that she'd ruined the marriage you've both built together. 

"i can make it up to you...just don't-don't divorce me" her voice was a plea now, her lips quivering. you stood firm, the divorce papers in your hands, your expression unapproachable, and she could see that you weren't going to change your mind. the divorce papers were a confirmation. 

she began trembling, her knees growing weak, the feeling of her life crashing down around her was enough to make her knees give out. she was about to crumble down to the floor but her mind had registered one thing. 

no, she wasn't letting you go that easily.

"wait!" she cried out, her hands rushing forwards. she couldn't let you divorce her, she couldn't let you abandon her. she grabbed the divorce papers out of your grip, the words of those papers nearly sending her down a spiral all over again. her voice was filled with tears as she spoke, "I-I refuse."

"you refuse?" you scoffed, "as if you have the right to say that." your voice was filled with amusement, finding it funny that she thinks she has a chance.

"yes, I refuse." she repeated, the tone of her voice now matching yours to an extent. her grip on the papers tightened, she wasn't giving in easily. the only right that she had here was to refuse a divorce. that's all she had now. "you're not leaving me this easily, you've put up with me for ten years, you can give me one more chance."

"you cheated behind my back, with one of my employees too, what do you expect?" you argued.

"I'll never do it again, I swear. that fling...I never even loved him, I don't even know why I did it-" she was babbling now, desperate to get you to stay, desperate to prove she changed. 

but how was she supposed to prove she won't cheat again if she never tried? she could give up drinking, she could not let another man near her ever again...anything to keep you. 

"why are you insisting? we married for success. for mutual gain. this wasn't out of love, it was for our companies." frustration filled your voice, pushing your hair back with a sigh.

it might have been true that you married for success but that didn't mean that love wasn't present in the relationship. there was love when you had picked her up when she was passed out drunk. there was love when you had supported her business ventures. 

but she pushed that aside, those thoughts were far too scary for her now.

"please...I don't want to lose you. just one more chance. I swear I won't ever cheat on you again, I promise."

"and how am I to believe that promise, you've cheated on me for months, you've gotten caught up in an affair, and now you want me to believe that you've decided to change in one night?" your words sent her stomach sinking to the floor. 

it was true, it couldn't just be changed overnight. but just the thought of you divorcing her made her want to beg again, to beg her way back to you. "please, just one more chance. just let me prove that I can change, just-just give me one more chance."

—

It annoyed you, the fact that your secretary, your best friend, agreed for a meeting between your ex-wife, saying that ‘you needed a break,’ and that it was only for business. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t be standing in front of your ex-wife right now.

You knew your success, finally building your company enough to be #1 in Korea, even achieving worldwide, you always worked hard, making you a workaholic, that’s why you were so distant to your past relationships, the lack of affection you showed because of work was one of the reasons your ex-wife felt neglected and you knew that. You had cared for her but maybe it was too late.

3 years after your divorce, you chose to go abroad to your company’s branches in Japan, having built up your company’s status, after a stressful 9 months, you flew back to korea with peace. That ended when the news of your return had been a headline for weeks and that didn’t go unnoticed by the public and to karina. 

Now, you were standing in front of her, your ex-wife. The unspoken tension was enough to make a man insane. But you weren’t going to break, not after what she had done.

as soon as you stepped into the meeting room, you froze. standing in front of you was someone you hadn't seen in two years-- your ex-wife, the woman who you had divorced after she betrayed your trust. her dark hair falling onto her shoulders, the black dress hugging her curves perfectly, she looked as if she had stepped out of a magazine. 

but that wasn't all that shocked you, the look of recognition was on her face as well. the memory of you two's marriage, those ten years, they filled her face with a bittersweet smile.

your eyes met but that was enough to make you feel like you were drowning in this very moment. all those emotions that you'd been feeling since the divorce washed over you, that bitterness, regret, everything.

you stood there for a moment, trying to get yourself together. she was just an ex-wife, your relationship was already a thing of the past, it was just a business now. "junhi," she greets, "congratulations on your achievements," her sweet voice filled your ears, an unsaid tension filled the room.

"is that reason why you wanted a meeting? to congratulate me on my achievements?" your tone filled with dryness, that cold facade of yours not helping. 

it was awkward being around her, being in the same room as her, having to meet face to face. you couldn't stop your fingers from fidgeting with that pen in your hand, the one hand remaining tucked in your pocket. 

"was there anything else you had wanted to discuss?" she paused, as if she was shocked by your sudden coldness. but she composed herself soon, as expected. 

she smiled again, keeping her eyes locked onto yours. "not really, no. i just wanted to talk to you, to congratulate you in person, but you are quite busy though, so i do also want to talk about one more thing."

you raised an eyebrow, not sure what she meant by 'one more thing'. the last thing you wanted now was for her to discuss personal matters when there could be someone else in the meeting.

you waited silently for her to speak, your arms crossed in front of you, your expression unapproachable.

"what would that be?" your tone filled with disinterest, you were ready to hear what she had to say, to get the business meeting over with. 

she paused, as if she was picking her words carefully. in the brief moment of silence, all you could feel was the bitter tension in the room. 

her lips parted for a moment, the smile still plastered onto her face, she opened her mouth to speak again, "do you mind if we talk somewhere more...private? i want to talk about something more personal.”

"is it that personal that we'd have to be alone?" my question represented how unbothered am I or it seems so, the opposite. 

"with all do respect, I don't have all day, ms. Yu." the professionalism in my tone made your heartbreak as if I had forgotten our past together. As if like you were merely a stranger to me.

your coldness made her flinch, it stung like fire in her chest whenever you spoke in cold, professional terms. your change of attitude-- no, return of attitude, it made it even worse. 

she gulped, her throat growing dry as you spoke. the way you addressed her wasn't even like your ex-wife, more like a total stranger that you were handling business with. 

"it's something that I don't want other colleagues listening in." she spoke softly, trying to match your tone, "it won't take long, promise."

I sighed, "apologies," the change in my tone was a surprise, "work has been stressful and I apologize if that had affected my attitude." gentleness in my voice as I looked at you carefully.

it was a surprise when you spoke gently, those few words made her take a step back, taken by surprise with the sudden change in your attitude. the tension in the room lessened, though only by a bit.

"then...let's go somewhere more private." she repeated, keeping her eyes on yours.

-> should i post the masterlist.?

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.4

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: Daryl starts changing, and Beth brings up the embarrassing memory of your kiss with Daryl back at the farm. The Governer has his final attack, and you crash at a church.

Notes: Starts with Beth at the prison, flashback to super awkward kiss with Daryl, ends with Beth at the hospital. ):

The change was subtle at first, but that doesn't mean you didn't notice it. You just ignored it in the desperate hopes that it wouldn't get any worse.

You had quite a few months of peace. Maybe half a year? You couldn't be sure at that point, but you did know that spring had turned to fall, and with it the idea of permanently residing in the prison becoming something you were content with. You still kept to yourself and Daryl, but you did pick up some extra chores. Instead of the bare minimum you chose jobs you could do outside, or jobs Daryl had taken. If you weren't tending to the gardens, you were with him in the woods, hunting or scavenging, even foraging on the occasion when prey was scarce. 

“Are you and Daryl together?’ Beth had asked so bluntly that you didn't have the mental capability to laugh or curse her out. You stopped picking cherry tomatoes and furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“Why would you ask me that?” 

Beth had a tight and timid smile, shrugging her shoulders and placing another cucumber in her basket. “You two are always around each other, that's all.” 

You shook off the feeling of vulnerability and sucked your teeth. “No. He's just the only one around here who I can stand.”

“Can you stand me?”

You looked at her over the row of chest high plants, seeing her hesitant expression. “Yes. I wouldn't’ve let you join me if that wasn't the case.” It wasn't a lie, you didn't mind being around Beth, even if you think she was the one of the weakest and most naive. Eventually you'd come to the realization that you had her all wrong, in fact, she was stronger than you. At least in the sense of emotional capability. 

Later that week she would end up giving you unwanted advice. She claimed that building walls and keeping everyone out besides yourself would kill you one day, much like the real world, you needed to allow yourself to rely on and trust others. You'd grow angry at her then, lashing out and telling her to mind her own business, you didn't need a therapist. She soon managed to turn into the first person you would apologize to and seek forgiveness from. 

Her questioning of the relationship between you and Daryl had your mind wandering to that night back at her fathers farm.

It was late. Daryl was still recovering from his gunshot wound but he wanted out of that damn house, so he settled for the next best thing to his tent, the back of the RV. Carol insisted he stay nearby, which you agreed to silently, and he begrudgingly accepted. 

You brought him a plate of dinner and sat in the chair next to him, sliding it over before taking one of the small boiled potatoes and popping it in your mouth.

“The hell you wearin’?” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Both pairs of pants were dirty and i didnt feel like walking around camp with my ass out.” You glanced down at the modest dress you’d been leant. You didn't mind it all that much, it was scratchy and tight, but it was kind of pretty. It was a warm yellow dress that ended below your knees with little white flowers and dots. You never really got to wear dresses growing up. 

“Huh.” Daryl muttered and raised an eyebrow at the imagery, raising his fork of chicken and carrots to his mouth. “Yeah. Don’t need another reason to knock Shane on his ass.”

“Shane? He hates me.” You snorted. “Would probably put a bullet in my skull if he could get away with it.”

“He’s still a man. Don’t matter how you feel about a woman, s’all the same seein’ her naked.”

“Ew, Daryl.” 

“S’true.”

“Yeah? What about you? You wouldn’t see me that way.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up from his plate. He was silent, and that alone had your heart racing, your lips parting, your mind swimming in hundreds of different thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“I ain’t no pillow biter.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Means I’m not a homosexual. Course I’d… can ya jus’ shut up?”

“I wasn't even speaking.” You tried not to laugh at the way Daryl said the word homosexual, like it was some exotic foreign mystery to him. It wasn’t hateful or disgusted in the way his brother would refer to them. 

It was quiet for a moment before you noticed he was wincing when he’d chew. 

“You hurting?” You asked, already reaching in your side pouch for the small baggie of painkillers Hershel had given you to give to Daryl when needed. 

“Nah. M’fine. Quit worryin’ so much.”

You scooted around the table until you could squeeze in beside him. He grunted in annoyance and slid over to give you more room, his eyes on the hem of your dress at your knees.

“Surprised you haven't scratched that thing off already.” You snorted and reached out to gently peel the bottom of his bandage up after he gave you a nod of approval. “Lookin’ good. Another surprise.”

“Ain’t no damn dog, haven’t been touchin’ it.” He rolled his eyes, trying not to feel uncomfortable  with the way your thigh pressed against his. After all these years of knowing you, feeling perfectly comfortable snuggled all up with you in the same tent, now was the time his body chose to acknowledge the fact that you were a woman?

He begrudgingly took the two small white pills from your hand and crunched them up in his mouth. He was eager for the painkillers to hopefully kill what little libido he had in him. 

It did its job, taking away the aching and throbbing from his skull, warming his body and reminding him why Merle used to love those things. He was suddenly optimistic, relaxed, filled with a fuzzy warm feeling of euphoria. Daryl cleared his throat and drug his eyes up to your face, watching as you snuck a stolen blueberry past your lips.

He acted without thinking and kissed you. It was clumsy, weird, awkward, all the things you’d expect from a boy's first kiss. You didn't move at first, your eyes wide and your hand hanging midair. You were too stunned to move. 

Daryl pulled back as if he’d been slapped. He muttered something, his face hot and red, waving his hand to signal you to leave. You were still too stunned to move. It took him raising his voice for you to snap out of it, dozens of thoughts and emotions flooding you all at once, fear, regret, hope, a stomach full of butterflies and your heart stuck in your tight throat. You muttered an apology before leaving.

Life loves giving you the shit end of the stick. 

That was another one of your problems, due to your near constant state of being a real victim growing up. Life had groomed you into an unhealthy behavior of always thinking you were the one who had it the worst, no matter what.  In reality you had it pretty good. After the Governors final attack you weren't one of the unlucky many that went through further trauma. You found a church after a while of being by yourself and broke into it. 

It was just your luck that the only human inside of it was a cowardly priest. He was thrilled to have someone like you with him after being alone so long, even though he didn't show it, you were a skilled hunter and offered food and protection in exchange for secure shelter. He also appreciated that you didn't speak much, and never questioned the suspicious markings and scratches around the exterior of all the windows. 

He'd complained once about your use of language in the church, and you responded by a snarky middle finger. 

You could've used a good wake up call, as sick as it was to say. Maybe if you'd been in Daryl's place, growing close to a girl such as Beth and then losing her, maybe you would've changed. Or if you were in Michonne's place, forced to watch the boy you'd come to love dance a hair away from one of the worst fates possible. Shit, maybe even Maggie, maybe if you were the one who had to go through hell and back to find your husband, maybe then you'd go through the emotional torture you so desperately needed for positive character growth. 

Life didn't work that way though, and you had it easy. So easy that the boredom was quick to become your hardship. 

“You got any booze here?” You asked as you laid on your back beside him in the pews, sharpening your clip point knife on Daryl's borrowed whetstone. 

“No.” He answered quickly, not looking up from the Bible in his hands. 

“Cigarettes? I'll be out soon.”

“I don't smoke.”

“Any of your old prescriptions? I know your type, I bet your bathroom cabinet was full of valium.” You took a jab at his timid and nervous personality.

“I'm sorry, no… I don't like taking pills. I don't even take Advil for headaches-”

“Do you have anything here that'll keep me from blowing my brains out?” 

Gabriel looked up then, holding a look of surprise and distaste that he didn't even try to hide. “I… I may have some games from the children's Sunday school classes.”

To the shock of both of you, you nodded after thinking it over for a moment. Gabriel hadn't expected that answer, but he got up and led you to the room anyway.

Neither of you believed that night would be the night that you started to like each other. The boredom had grown so unbearable that those stupid little games he had seemed like playing San Andreas on your father's PlayStation 2 for the first time all over again. It wasn't just the first time Gabriel saw you laugh, it was the first time you'd actually laughed in a long time, and it wasn't at the expense of others, you genuinely had fun. 

“I could teach you.” He had said after you made a joke about going to the darkest depths of hell after smoking and swearing in church. 

“Teach me what?” You snorted, flicking ash from your cigarette.

“About the Bible. How to change.” 

You laughed then, shaking your head. “I don't know, father. Don't think so. But, if you'll let me, I can teach you how to make meth.”

His eyes widened. “W-what? You know how to do that? No, I- no, what?”

“Just a joke. I'd hate to see you on crystal. You're already so jittery and anxious.” 

He grinned sheepishly then and you had a good night. A great night. 

All it took was reuniting with Daryl to snap you back to reality. 

You'd searched for him as long as you had daylight every single day since arriving at the church. Even though the first few days most of your time outside was spent hunting, searching for signs of Daryl or his group was your main priority. Catching rabbits and squirrels was just lucky for Gabriel. 

It was off putting having Gabriel return with nearly the entire inner group on your doorstep. Your arms were covered in squirrel blood and you had twigs all in your hair, swinging open the church doors with your boot, a cigarette hanging between your lips. The skinned squirrel dropped from your grasp as you saw them, over a dozen faces all turned to you, all at once. 

Daryl hugged you with an exhausted yet relieved grin on his lips. You remained frozen, too confused and shocked by their sudden arrival. He ended up having to move your body out of the doorway so everyone could enter. 

“Was starting to think I lost you for good.” You commented as you stabbed a plastic fork into your hot can of peaches, stretching your legs in front of the campfire. 

“Nah. I told ya, I ain't leavin’.” 

“So, what happened? You all get on the bus and leave my sorry ass?” You teased, enjoying the sweet taste of fruit, even if it was canned. 

Daryl gave you the rundown, about Beth, the group he stuck with, going to Terminus, and the new members who claimed their guy was a big shot fancy scientist who had a cure.

“That's bullshit if I've ever heard it.” You tried to ignore the gnawing in your chest at the information that Beth had been taken. That was just another sick and uncomfortable reminder that Daryl was truly it for you. Everyone would leave, but not Daryl. Never Daryl.

“I dunno. Seems pretty legit.” Daryl grunted, finishing one of the squirrels you'd caught earlier that day. “So what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, after the shit show. What happened?”

You sighed, impaling your last peach slice. “I walked for a real long time looking for you. Found the church and busted in, this guy was cowering in the back with his ass half way through the floorboards.” You pointed over your shoulder at Gabriel, who was so nervous speaking to Rick you could see his fingers twitching. 

“And I never left. Used it as a place to sleep without bugs crawling up my nose or walkers nibbling my feet.”

Daryl snorted, staring off into the flames of the campfire before asking another question. “You look for me?”

“I tried.” You chose to leave out the part where you ‘tried’ twelve hours a day, seven days a week. “Couldn't find a damn thing. No human tracks besides ole boy. Needs a little less Bible preaching and a little more stealth training.” You paused then, looking at Daryl, who was still staring  off into the flames. “Did you look for me?”

“For a while, yeah. Me and Beth.” It took him a moment before he went on. “Lotta shit happened after that. But I kept lookin’. Was lucky we ran into your friend there surrounded by walkers. Made lookin' a lot easier.” He chuckled dryly and you nodded. You suddenly thought about Daryl back in Atlanta, back at the farm. The way he looked for Sophia, day and night, subconsciously using her as his redemption for not being able to find Merle. Did he look for you the same way? Or was it a more of a ‘keep an eye out’ type of search? 

Deep down you knew the answer. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. 

You didn't have Daryl back long before he was gone again. He came back a while later with yet another new human, some scrawny kid claiming he knew where Beth was. 

It was surprising to you that Rick didn't suggest you just stay back at the church. He actually insisted you accompany them on their search for Beth. That was until you realized Carl and Judith would both be left behind with Gabriel, which would have left you as one of the only adults. That pissed you off a little, giving you the impression that he thought of you as some psychotic loose cannon, or that you weren't capable of protecting them. After you cooled down you accepted the fact that you wouldn't trust someone like you either to watch your only two children, the last thing he had of his late wife. 

Rick had come to slightly regret bringing you when you tormented one of the ‘cops’ they were keeping hostage, blowing cigarette smoke in his face while he was immobile and randomly smacking a handkerchief against his face to annoy him. Rick must've said something to Daryl because instead of thinking your antics were absolutely hilarious, he discreetly pulled you aside and told you to ‘leave the damn man alone’. 

Blowing a little smoke in someone's face was nothing compared to what you wanted to do when you watched Beth get shot in front of you. 

It had only hit you that day when you finally saw your sweet pain in the ass again, you felt optimistic, relieved, her positive attitude was something you deeply needed. It was quickly replaced by feral anger, hissing, spitting, biting, clawing, the feeling of arms belonging to Tyreese wrapping around your torso to drag you away from the bloody mess you'd made of the nearest cop. 

You were grateful for your rage, it was so strong and numbing that you weren't able to cry. 

Oh, but how Daryl cried. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[stylespresleyhearted]

CCG — NEW BEGINNINGS

masterlist can be found here

note: @blainesebastian only has herself to blame for allowing me to spiral in the dm’s. dad! austin blurb all the way at the bottom based on ccg universe hope you don’t mind mccall. 😭🥹🫶🏻

-

hollywoodreporter Divorce rumors continue to swirl as Austin Butler is spotted catching a Broadway play with younger actress Kaia Gerber.

view all comments

butlerfam This means nothing. He is allowed to have female friends.

fan13 I’m scared but it might be true even @jillian.mua unfollowed him

butlerfam She unfollowed everyone who didn’t follow her back not just him.

hater101 i always knew she wasn’t the one for him lmaooo good for you austin! kaia is way prettier!

ccgupdates We don’t know anything and we should focus on being respectful, for their sake and especially Luci’s.

people Austin Butler and @coffeegirl spotted running errands in Los Angeles separately. Despite them being in the same city no photos of the two of them have been captured and divorce rumors continue building. This marks the first time she is spotted publicly in two months. Their reps refused to comment.

view all comments

fan23 cmon @people be better than this. i expect this shit from dailymail but not ya’ll

user12 PSA: husbands and wives DO NOT have to do everything together.

hater101 okay but he had a date w a model ten years his junior who is way prettier lol they’re so over

fan12 Starting to believe it’s true because why wouldn’t they just deny the rumors?

fan13 she looks like she’s crying

fan24 yeah looks like it might be true … i’ll never forgive austin if it is she’s perfect for him and that means he left his family for a nepo baby

hater2 Finally I was tired of her using him for fame he is going to be so much better off with Kaia she actually is on his level

liked by ashleybee, coffeegirl, and 98267 others

austinbutler ✈️

view all comments

ashleybee Favorite girl always ❤️‍🔥

fan23 does this mean he got custody

fan13 THEY AREN’T DIVORCED 🙄

user11 lmao ok that’s why he’s all over kaia gerber and if they were still together he would have posted @coffeegirl too but he didn’t and he liked kaia’s recent ig post

fan13 yeah bc they’re friends thats it

user11 they were spotted hanging out alone again on deuxmoi’s sunday spotted

hater101 @coffeegirl he left you so now all you can do is like his posts 🤣

austinbutler has disabled comments

tmz BREAKING NEWS: @coffeegirl spotted with mystery man in New York City confirming divorce rumors with Austin Butler.

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hater101 lmaooo what a slut

butlerfam You’re ridiculous. You praise Austin for being seen with a model and bring her down for being seen with a friend.

user13 that doesn’t look like a friendly touch

fan43 I’m so disappointed. No photo of her for three months and when we finally do get one she’s with another man.

ccgupdates She’s been hiding from the public, she’s obviously going through something. And that’s a co-worker, Ronald, he’s worked with her on multiple projects.

user41 isn’t that guy ronald someone austin hates bc he’s always overly friendly w her??? and she allows this ???

liked by fan11, fan12, and 714 others

austinupdates At tonight’s screening Austin talked about how his daughter Luci changed his life positively in every way possible. He didn’t mention his wife.

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ccgupdates That last sentence is so unnecessary.

fan13 he usually always thanks her though

butlerfamily In the past seven months she’s only been seen publicly twice. It’s obvious she doesn’t want attention right now for some reason and maybe he’s respecting that.

fan13 what could possibly be the reason? why the 360 all of a sudden?

hater101 he left her and she can’t accept that

liked by hater1, hater2, and 59176 others

dailymail After a decade together it seems Austin and his wife have divorced. He is seen solo with their daughter, Luci, once again. It has been nine months since the couple have been photographed together and @coffeegirl has chosen to deal with it privately, according to sources as she has only been seen publicly twice this past year.

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fan14 I refuse to believe it until it comes directly from them.

ccgupdates That is not confirmation.

hater101 all these weirdos in denial still GTFO IT

user12 I am so heartbroken. I thought they were forever.

austinupdates All we can do now is respect their privacy and support them. I’m sure Luci remains their top priority.

jillian.mua You lot are ridiculous.

coffeegirl and austinbutler posted

austinbutler and coffeegirl I took some time for myself to ensure the safe arrival of our baby boy. Our family has never been happier than now for the next chapter in our lives.

I understand this can be hard for some to process. Sending you all love.

view all comments

ccgfan OH MY GOD IM SO HAPPY ??!! 🥹🥹❤️❤️ CONGRATS !

jillian.mua I beg you guys to never stop collaborating 🫶🏻

ashleytisdale LOL YES! Love you guys!

ashleybee Having you in Arizona while you were growing the little bean was magical. We miss you already. I love you guys, thank you for making me an auntie again. I’m proud of you, Austin, and I see Mom in those little angels. 🪽 

austinbutler I love you Ash ❤️

coffeegirl All your love and support was essential, thank you. Luci and baby boy are begging to call tonight.

tomhardy Congratulations 🎉❤️

florencepugh Going to do another movie with you for some more baby time 👀💗

jodiecomer Fuck yes, so much love ❣️

pollybennett So happy for your family! Real ones always knew the thought of you divorcing was absurd 😉

~ comment liked by austinbutler and 17891 others 

butlerfamily I knew it was all bullshit. Their love is true. They’ve stated they only wanted one child previously so I wonder if this was a surprise or plan, but whatever it was, I’m so happy for their family.

coffeegirl Surprise LOL 😂🫶🏻 but we appreciate the constant support from your page. We see your love ❤️

blainesebastian HAHA take that haters!!

-

She lays her feet on his lap, head thrown back in exhaustion and finally content to have some relief. She’d been swelling all day and her skin felt tight.

“What bullshit,” Austin says, pausing his ministrations to glare at the TV. She wiggles her toes to get him to continue, sighing contently when he does so.

She thinks of the past year and the rumors that have swirled. At first it began small as fandom drama and as time went on media outlets began to pick up on her absence as well. She and Austin were aware that there’d be some push back but it never occurred to her the length people would go to proving they weren’t together and had both seemingly moved on.

Arizona had been her safe haven. She was thankful for Ashley being willing to watch Luci at any time, for Austin’s grandparents who cooked her favorite foods every single day, and his father and step-mom who bought her body pillows and slippers and anything she may need to feel better.

She thinks of Austin and what he must have had to face bouncing back and forth between Los Angeles and New York and Arizona to keep her happy and relaxed. She hadn’t faced the paparazzi or the fans but he had multiple times and he remained patient and understanding of her needing to grow their baby away from the public eye.

Peeking an eye open, she finds him still glaring at the TV. She’s unsure why they’re even watching but she’s too lazy to reach for the control. He’s got on his grey sweatpants, soft against the skin of her legs, and white T-Shirt with his thin gold chain. She smiles, feeling love and gratitude and disbelief swell in her chest that this was her life, this wonderful man was her husband, and they were going to welcome another baby together.

It may not have been planned but it was a happy occasion all the same.

She sits up, planting a big kiss against his cheek. Austin turns, eyes crinkled with his smile.

“What was that for?” He plants his own kiss on her forehead.

She shrugs, “Just felt like it.” Her eyes are welling with tears and she’s sure if she begins expressing her gratitude to him the waterworks would fall. She hopes he knows though, hopes he can feel it radiating off her.

She thinks he must, because he pulls her in closer with an arm around her shoulder, tucking her face into his neck. She presses another kiss to his collarbone as he places his other hand against her belly. Immediately there’s a kick.

She grunts. “He always knows when it’s you.” When Austin had to travel it’s like their baby boy knew and he wasn’t happy, he’d begin spinning and fluttering in what she assumed was his version of a tantrum.

“Mom-eeee.” Luci joins them, pointing to the TV where her face is gracing them. She grimaces at the photo chosen and Austin laughs, kissing her hair. “Say hi to brother.” Luci falls to her mom’s lap to press a kiss on the belly, right above Austin’s hand, and begins mumbling secrets. She feels more fluttering in her belly and by Austin’s smile she’s sure he felt it too.

“I love you.” She says, peering up to him. He hums, leaning down to steal a kiss.

[yourstru1y4ever]

Day 7 - Nothing Underneath (18+)

Paring: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 947 Content: SMUT!! So this fic is 18+ MDNI (I mean it kids, go read some fluff or angst! This ain't for you!) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: So this is my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s awkward ; I’m trying to push myself writing wise with this writing challenge. Also I’m so so so sorry in advance for the abrupt ending, I wanted to make sure I got this fic out tonight. Ya girl is tired and has a morning shift to wake up for please forgive me (╥﹏╥)

Matt always feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you alone in the apartment when he does his patrols. 

Especially on a night like tonight.

I mean it was just your typical day. . . excluding the fact that you both are just very horny for each other. 

And it wasn’t like you aren’t usually! It was just neither of you had the chance to fuck each other in a couple days and the tension was starting to get to Matt.

“Red?”

Every small touch you did, every time you kissed him goodbye before his patrol, even the one call you did earlier in the week had him getting hard.

All he wanted to do was stay between your thighs and love on you, was that too much to ask?

“Red!” 

Apparently it was. Matt looks over at Frank who was smirking.

“Go home man, you clearly need to work through some things.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” The white knuckled grip on his billy clubs says otherwise, so Frank just rolls his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” He looks back at the empty lot that they’ve been watching over for the past two hours. They got tipped off that a drug deal was sighted around this block, so they’ve been keeping watch to see where it could potentially lead to.

“Y’know. . .” Frank starts, “I’ve been doing just fine without your special senses for years now,” Matt tilts his head in the direction of a building that was seemingly empty, his lips forming a thin line. 

Frank stills and waits. . . nothing.

“Just go home Red.”

. . . “Fine.”

Frank’s eyebrows shoot up, but his expression remains the same.

“There’s not a lot of activity happening inside the building anyways, call me if that changes.”

“You got it Red.” Frank wouldn’t call tonight, Matt figured as much, but it was still worth it to remind him.

Matt starts heading back to his apartment, leaping and bounding across the different rooftops, trying to make it back home before you head to bed.

You figured the Devil would be out late again tonight, just as he had like the past few days. You couldn’t be upset at Matt, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel frustrated about the circumstances. Almost every time you tried to make a move on Matt he would have to go to work, go patrolling and when he got home you were asleep.

This night was going to be different, you thought. You were determined to fuck him tonight, you just needed to stay awake along enough to do so.

At first you figured it would be good to wear some lingerie to get you in the mood, but after about an hour of just lounging around waiting for Matt to come through the window you could feel your eyes wanting to droop.

You shake your head and decide to just fuck it and not wear any clothes, yeah that’ll do it! You weren’t even sure if he would be able to tell unless he was close enough to you. Smiling, you remove the lingerie you put on and walk back into your shared bedroom. You slip under the covers, completely naked, just scrolling on your phone waiting patiently for your devil to return home. Still a bit bored, but horny, you slowly reach down and start slowly toying with your clit, thinking how Matt would be so much better.

All you wanted was just his mouth to devour you, no maybe have him fuck you til you couldn’t cum anymore. A small moan escapes your lips as you keep playing with your clit, moving your fingers in a circular motion but barely putting any pressure.

Your breathing shallows as you start moving your hand faster and faster, but it just doesn’t satisfy you. Feeling frustrated you remove your hand and roll to your side putting your phone down. Maybe you should just go to sleep, you guys can fuck in the-

“Sweetheart?”

“Matt?” You turn around and see Matt, breathing heavily but with each breath you see him get more and more tense.

“Fuck, are you naked?” His voice lower than before.

“Yes, I just-” He walks over to you and you look away from him, “I dunno-” He shifts you to face him his body right in between your legs, “I thought-”

He kisses you with a searing passion cutting you off. You moan into the kiss grabbing onto his face pulling him closer towards you. You can feel him smile as you reach the base of his neck, gently tugging some of his hair. 

He starts moving down your neck, kissing every exposed part of you “I want you like this every time I come home.” He tells you in between kisses. You breathe out a laugh, seeing that he’s still mostly dressed in his nightly outfit.

“Matty your suit-”

“I don’t care.” He kneels down to go further down your body until his face is at your cunt. He sighs happily as he moves his hand up your body, gently grabbing onto one of your boobs. With his other hand, he inserts two fingers into your dripping cunt, slowly working them in and out.

You moan his name as he continues to work his hands on your body, waves of pleasure making your eyes go hazy. 

He removes his hand from your cunt and takes a taste from his fingers, moaning. You look over at him and notice that he’s managed to remove his pants just enough to start palming his cock with the hand that was just inside you. 

This was going to be a long night, but you both needed it.

[junowritings]

Raphael being infatuated with a mortal and the interest seems to be mutual (maybe with the mortal bantering with the devil about how he doesn't need to bribe them to get them to spend time with him), but then another person pulls the—probably in human form—cambion aside and tells the him to not try to flirt with the mortal he's infatuated with because, "Them and I are already together." However, this person is just delusional and decided that the object of Raphael's affections interests being polite meant they were dating. The mortal verbally tears the delusional person a new one when this comes to light and lets it slip during the tirade that Raphael's infatuation is indeed reciprocated.

First time writing for Raphael! Definitely gotta brush up more on his character but this was an interesting concept to work with!

You'll have to forgive me for getting a lil carried away with the build up for this one but I do hope that it's to your liking hun~!

=======

♡ The work of a devil means to surround yourself with fools. Fools who put their lives, and their souls, and all that they hold dear on the line in an attempt to vie for the chance to gain something better. Something greater than them - however temporary. And who was Raphael to deny them the opportunity? He is oh so generous, after all.

♡ Raphael makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys the back and forth - the game of cat and mouse with stubborn souls who have yet to realize that they had been doomed from the moment the cambion had set his sights on his latest mark. They all come crawling back eventually of their own accord; pushed into the corner with nowhere else to turn just as he always warned them. So Raphael is more than content to wait however long that takes. Weeks. Month. Years. He has all the means to bide his time. Raphael can afford the wait; his clients can’t.

♡ But of course he has to find some way to pass that time - to entertain himself while the proverbial counter whittles down.

♡ That is where you come in.

♡ How he found you was anyone’s guess. Maybe you caught his eye, a momentary fancy in the vicinity of his latest client, going about your meager days in a relative peace he was all too happy to break. Or perhaps you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time; strayed too long in his presence or looked too close at the devil in mortal’s clothing till you realized you knew too much. Whatever the details of your first encounter, once Raphael has set his sights on something that he wants, your days of peace without him are long gone.

♡ Such a pesky little mortal you are. A sharper wit and even sharper tongue than some of the suckers who come clamoring to him for their own gain. One who acts as though the sight of the devil at your doorstep every few days is another routine to grow accustomed to. Maybe it is, but don’t tell him that. He’d almost be offended by the lukewarm reception; but luckily for you he finds it humorous, enough so that he sticks around, appearing like a surprise guest at your local haunts, feigning pleasant surprise to have ‘coincidentally crossed paths’ with you when you’re least expecting him.

♡In the beginning Raphael tolerates you - sees you as an amusing way to pass the time when his other prospects aren’t bearing fruit and his creature comforts are proving too lackluster for an appropriate distraction. But the more he visits, the more your life seems to shift to accommodate the devil.

♡ You aren’t the exception to his offers either. He’s produced the idea of a contract on more than one occasion, noting all of the time he took on the details of that little scroll of paper, tucked neatly away at the house of hope for the day that you agree to strike a deal. He says it as though it's fact, and you have no illusions he believes that entirely. But for now it stays as a playful banter, rolling off his offer with a sarcastic rebuttal that he’s better off saving that contract for the next poor soul he latches onto.

♡ It becomes a funny little routine, and the cambion makes no hesitation to make himself at home in your home as though he owns the place. Hells it’s as though he’s claimed the house - and it’s occupants - as an abode away from the house of hope. Knowing Raphael, he probably has. 

♡ You find decorations that weren’t there before; alterations to your wardrobe and home with no room for doubt of who they’re from. Your comment that he doesn’t need to bribe you to get you to spend time with him is only met with a grin that’s all teeth and snark, as Raphael quickly corrects you that these are merely ‘investments’. You never get the chance to find out what these ‘investments’ are for.

♡ In return you listen to his waxing poetics, prodding and poking at the lines he recites as though ribbing an old friend. You know very well that on the wrong day, the wrong word would earn you his ire, but the fear of that being death and not a thinly veiled glare ebbs with each passing day. So you find yourself relaxing, daresay, even enjoying the devil’s company. And Raphael is reveling in the attention, more so than you will likely ever get him to admit aloud.

♡ Raphael will never call it infatuation. Fondness? Maybe; said once or twice with just enough of a casual tone to pass it off as his usual antics. Love is not to be found in his honeyed words and literature. But an appreciation and desire for what he wants? That he can work with, if you’re ever brave enough to ask.

♡ Not that you get to, before someone else gets involved on this little one on one. Really, do none of these mortals value their lives? 

♡ Clearly the fool is nowhere near as sharp as the average mortal, as even the lingering scent of sulfur from Raphael’s latest appearance doesn’t deter them from pulling him aside. It’s a good thing they removed their hands before the devil decided to pry each finger off for the blatant disrespect, scowl already setting deep lines on his face as the being before him rattles on. Something about ‘flirting’ this, ‘don’t try anything that. Boring drivel as far as Raphael is concerned, until it clicks that this person is warding him off from you with claims that they got to you first. 

♡ There are two ways that this encounter would pan out, depending on the mood that this poor sod catches the cambion in. 

♡ IF (and this is a big if) they somehow manage to catch him in a tolerable moment, Raphael will be generous enough to divulge their ramblings for a second. Of course he doesn’t take this seriously. Since when did such feeble reasons as ‘we’re already together’ or declarations of their love for you ever matter? The grin on his face is mocking, downright taunting to the point this ‘suitor’ of yours grows too unnerved to continue this intervention’. 

♡ Otherwise the disgust is palpable. Does this prat think for a second that whatever drabble comes out of their mouth is worth the man’s time? You, he likes. The others, he can tolerate. This little fidgeting pound of flesh? They’re lucky he hasn’t asked one of the pawns at his disposal to get rid of them yet. The only thing that keeps them alive is that they’re simply not worth the hassle. Even though his expression sours and the scowl on his face deepens as his gaze sharpens, dark eyes regarding them as a cat would regard an insect - enough to mess with, but hardly worth the meal to waste energy on.

♡ Raphael is at his core a meddler (to put it in nicer terms), so it is quite frankly a miracle that you don’t hear it from the mouth of the cambion himself after your ‘partner’s confrontation. He pays no mind to baseless warnings, honestly getting a kick out of doing anything but what they asked. Raphael doesn’t just want to wound their pride - he will rub salt, and dirt, and filth into that wound and let it fester for good measure for the insult. And you become the weapon for his self perceived revenge.

♡ The change is unmissable, and Raphael lays it on thick. Your days out in the city never come without the cambion’s company, a hand steadfast upon your lower back to guide you as you go about your errands. He even makes a show of walking you home after every excursion, when before he would leave you to your devices whatever time suited him. If only you knew the smug satisfaction it gave him imagining how your ‘partner’s blood must boil at the very sight. The message is clear: he’s not sharing this one.

♡ The gifts are more blatant as well - with statement pieces too big and too rich for any rational person to afford and yet you find them at your bedside damn near every other morning. Not knowing better you’re wary of his intentions, even though the devil donning his human guise insists that there’s no strings attached to this small transaction. “It’s only fitting that you’re donned in something opulent to match your company, isn’t it?” yet with the way he words it you know that wearing them is more than a request. Especially once you put them on, and catch his smirk of pride. Clearly going along with his ‘requests’ strokes his ego.

♡ This game is dead in the water by a few days, as Raphael’s attempt to rile up that lover of yours has them bursting at the seams in rage. That fool makes another attempt to pull him aside right outside of your door nonetheless, but this time Raphael is far less inclined to give them the mercy of this charade. They’d outlived their welcome the first encounter, and Raphael is in no mood to waste anymore time on them. Even in a human guise he’s more than capable of removing this bore, and only pauses to mull over how long it will take you to scrub whatever gristle is left of this person from your homestead by the time he’s done with them. Doesn’t even bother listening to the same spiel, casting a cursory glance to your front door behind the mortal debating if frying them to a crisp would damage the new decorations. No matter; he could always buy you better ones. 

♡ That line of thought pauses at the sight of you at the door, only catching the briefest look of horror on your face before it scrunches up in anger. You cross the space in seconds - and Raphael is almost impressed by how fast your hands shoot out to wind into the collar of this mortal practically dragging them back and away from the cambion. It looks as though he doesn’t have to lift a finger to solve this little issue this time, if the way your face is alight with rage as you scream at this so-called ‘partner’ about their delusions is any indication. 

♡ Oh, this is too good not to watch, and he is going to stand there and enjoy every second of it. Were Raphael not thoroughly enjoying the show he may have conjured a glass of wine to go along with the entertainment unfolding before him. Instead he will settle for watching the scene play out, far too happy in the knowledge that the pieces fall into place without him even moving the board in this confrontation. He’s seen you exasperated, seeing you upset and angry. But this? You’re pissed; to the point where your mouth appears to run faster than your brain, as in the middle of your shouting you jab a finger in Raphael’s direction, not even sparing him a glance as you snap.

♡ “- And I would take him over you any day! At least I actually like him!”

♡ Ah, there it is. His lip curls in triumph as his eyes blaze holes into the person shrinking and humiliated by your biting verbal assault. They make the mistake of glancing over at him at the wrong time, and for a second they swear they see shapes in Raphael's shadows, a smoldering hellfire behind dark eyes as his lips part, revealing a flash of sharp teeth as he mouths wordlessly to the mortal.

♡ 'I win.' 

♡ They can’t get away fast enough, tripping over cobble and their own feet as they scarper away like a frightened animal. You’re spitting out curses as they go, a final shout to get lost breaking into a breathless huff as you watch them till they disappear from view. It isn’t until they’re long gone that you finally seem to ease, running a hand through your hair with a groan as you bemoan the headache this whole event has no doubt caused you.

♡ It seems for a second that you’ve forgotten your present company; that just won’t do. He sees you calm, watches the anger and tension as it seeps from your body with each haggard breath in the wake of your tirade attempting to recollect yourself. Then he watches you freeze, the tension winding up once again like a coil as the sound of slow, methodical clapping reaches your ears. Raphael waits till you’ve turned, mustering the courage to look the devil in the face before his hands clap together the last time, praising you for the impromptu show. 

♡ You’ve never looked quite so shaken in his presence. You usually shoot back his banter so casually, and now you can’t quite look him in the eye - whatever could have caused that change, hm~? Finally realized the words you’d let slip?

♡ You can’t begrudge him for enjoying the moment, can you? It’s in his nature after all to see opportunity in all circumstances as you’ve seen firsthand. There’s a glint you can’t quite place in his eye as he remarks that he’s impressed; for just a mortal you sure managed to put the fear of the hells into the poor soul - send them running as though their lives depended on it. He knew you were brazen, but this was certainly something to witness. See, this is why you’re one of his favorite mortals, as he’s quick to remind you. 

♡ A kinder soul would broach your feelings, fulfill or ease your fears at having blurted out such a thing. But that’s not a mercy you’re provided this time. It’s not brought up just yet - not here. No, instead Raphael will tuck that little bit of information away for later use at a more opportune time. Another card up the sleeve, though the knowledge stirs up a fire within his infernal soul now that he knows he’s drawn you in after such a tumultuous chase. It appears that this arrangement just became a bit more interesting~

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for dating a system that includes a minor alter?

I'm fairly new to the concept of systems so forgive any missteps please.

So I (26 NB) have been dating someone for 5 years, recently they (28 nb) told me that they were a system. They made it clear that the personality I'm dating only one of their alters and all of the others I'm not dating.

Sometimes there will be a shift during a date and the date will have to be cut short or context changes. IE: we're watching a movie and I can no longer snuggle my partner because the new alter doesn't do physical touch.

Or the date has to cut short because the alter doesn't want to deal with me at all. One of these alters is a young girl and more than once I've had to cut the date short and adjust what I'm doing to accommodate the child.

My relationship to the lead alter is non sexual so that isn't a concern, however it has been uncomfortable a few times to cut short a date because the movie is no longer appropriate and I go from having a date, to what feels like babysitting.

IE: Once we cut short a date because the child alter, wanted to build a fort instead and didn't want me anywhere near her. But wanted me to watch over her until another alter could front.

This is all new (less than a month new) so maybe I just need to adjust how I'm viewing everything, however I can't go anywhere else for advice because I'm fairly certain most places are going to immediately attack me for dating a system that includes a minor but I wanted an honest opinion.

TL:DR; I am dating a system that includes alters that at least one is a minor and they'll cut the date short and I'm wondering if I'm the asshole

What are these acronyms?

[yarameijer]

Hello it’s me again 🤭

It’s literally 4am for me right now and I was trying to sleep since I have to be up early tomorrow. But like, I can’t sleep without overthinking something, when I thought of this.

I for one absolutely hated how Shindou and Tsurugi didn’t help Tenma with Inazuma Japan, but instead made his life harder by not being willing to at least trying to adapt to what’s happening since it’s out of their control.

And who knows, maybe tenma doesn’t see the issue and doesn’t think there’s anything to forgive, Tenma is after all, a sweetheart.

But I’d like to think that he did see the issue and that he does hold some kind of resentment towards them because of it.

I’d also like to think that he does confront them about it at some point after they’re Back from space and everything calmed down a bit.

I mean, I for one would definitely talk to my friends and make them promise me to support me and have my back if something like that happened again if I was in his position.

So what do you think? Did tenma ever confront them about it? And if so how did they react?

By the way, I love your work and sense of humor and your take on the characters. Good luck with uni!!

Well, to answer simply: yes.

I've been working for quite a while on a one-shot set in the AR universe, one that's part of a larger arc (I posted another part of it before) focusing specifically on this topic, and I think you'd enjoy a preview of it.

Now, important to note is that this is written from Tsurugi's perspective rather than Tenma's, and Tenma has been bottling up a lot of things for a long time. He will likely seem very OOC here because of this - but it will (hopefully) not be as odd once the entire arc is published!

——— Accidental Reverse: Limits I

Kyousuke has never seen Tenma and Shindou like this.

He’d thought it was the worst it would get at the start of the Grand Celesta Galaxy, when they could barely have a conversation without one of them stepping on the other’s toes.

He was wrong.

‘’This isn’t working, Tenma,’’ Shindou moves with a purpose as he follows behind the young captain, his features twisted into a frown. ‘’And I think you know it too.’’

And that’s- that’s what stands out, to Kyousuke. Because this is how they've handled all team-related issues ever since Tenma became captain, it's no different from how it has been for nearly half a year now and yet he’s never seen his two friends behave like this. It seems that the only thing they can do lately is get on each other’s nerves.

What happened to their instinctive teamwork?

It’s Tenma, this time. He’s refusing to look at his strategist, eyes downcast and arms crossed as if he’s shielding himself from something. In response to the words, he just gives a half-hearted shrug.

Kyousuke winces when he sees Shindou’s eyes narrow.

‘’You could answer me, you know.’’

It’s as if he’s watching a movie with the script right in front of him; Kyousuke can see the exact moment where it goes wrong, and it’s with a quiet resignation that he takes note of Tenma’s eyes flashing. The brunet looks ready to speak in his own defense, but then his face falls. He stays silent.

And that, too, has become familiar in a way that leaves a bitter taste in Kyousuke’s mouth.

When has Tenma started feeling like he can’t talk to them?

(Kyousuke doesn't know.

He knows when he first noticed it, though - that odd phone call, all those months ago.)

They’re interrupted by the door sliding open, all three of them looking up at the new arrivals. It’s Kirino, Nishiki and Sangoku, the former two looking relieved when they spot the trio. ‘’There you are!’’ Nishiki says. ‘’We’ve been looking all over for you.’’

It’s no wonder they couldn’t find them. When Tenma stormed off the field, he didn’t go to any of the usual spots like the clubroom, instead navigating through the hallways of the soccer building until they found him in the guest team changing room.

As if he didn’t want to be found.

The thought leaves a sour taste in Kyousuke's mouth.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Sangoku asks, expression sharp and voice sharper. He’s watching them carefully, taking in Shindou’s obvious frustration and Tenma’s odd hesitance, the younger brunet having turned away from the rest of the room.

When it becomes clear the captain won’t answer, Shindou lets out a sigh. ‘’We were talking about the new training regime for after the holidays,’’ he says, casting a glance at Tenma. At least the strategist seems to have cooled down a bit with the arrival of the others. ‘’Trying to, at least.’’

‘’Shindou-san,’’ Kyousuke interjects sharply.

The game maker sets his jaw and truthfully, at this point, part of Kyousuke could cry. Why are they all so stubborn? It’s one of Raimon’s best qualities as a team, but not if they’re fighting with each other.

‘’I’m only telling it how it is,’’ Shindou retorts, daring Kyousuke to go against him again. ‘’I can’t have a conversation with someone who refuses to even look at me.’’

What really strikes Kyousuke is that the game maker doesn’t sound mad. He sounds frustrated, sure, but it doesn’t seem to be about the training regime – honestly, the striker doubts Shindou even really cares about that.

They both know Tenma.

And it’s clear as day that something is upsetting him.

But getting Tenma to talk about his problems is like pulling teeth; he shuts down and refuses to say a word, covering it up with a smile and a clever distraction instead. And if it’s already driving Kyousuke crazy, he can’t think of how it must be for Shindou.

Because Shindou is Tenma’s go-to person whenever he needs advice, or support, or even just a hug. The two of them have always had their own subtle way of communicating that’s become a bit of a running joke in the team – it always fills them with fond amusement, to see the two brunets who used to disagree simply by being in the same room back when the team first started out, now only needing to glance at each other to know what they have in mind. It’s a great addition during matches, and outside of that it’s just kind of cute to see Tenma following their strategist around like a lost puppy and Shindou trying not to show how much he really depends on the younger’s general cheerfulness.

And now Tenma’s refusing to talk to Shindou.

Because Shindou is the problem, and the strategist is smart enough to realize it too.

‘’I think we all need a break,’’ Kirino interferes, shooting his best friend an encouraging smile. ‘’We don’t have any matches anymore until January, so maybe we should take it easy with training and do something fun.’’ He looks around, trying to find some support.

Nishiki’s nodding along. ‘’Sounds good to me, we’ve been at it for a while already. Let’s go get ramen!’’

For a long minute, Shindou doesn’t back down. He’s silent, gaze flitting between Kirino, Nishiki and Tenma, thinking it over before he finally nods. ‘’Alright. Sounds fun.’’ He doesn’t sound excited at all but that doesn’t matter; at least the situation is defused for now.

Maybe it really is that simple. The winter holidays are just around the corner, and from the moment Earth Eleven returned from space their normal school lives continued. The Winter Road is starting soon as well and they’ve been both training for that and having friendly matches with other teams each week, so maybe it really is just the case of the two brunets needing some time to relax and wind down. They’d been discussing a new training regime for the Winter Road when this disagreement started, after all.

‘’Is everyone coming?’’ Shindou asks, correctly assuming Kirino already planned for this earlier.

‘’Yup, no more practice for today. Coach Endou already agreed to it.’’

And that could’ve been the end of it, would’ve been the end of it – because the tension in Shindou’s expression is fading and Sangoku is starting to smile, and even Tenma, still turned away from them all, seems to slump in relief – if Shindou didn’t say, ‘’let’s hope we’re all more rational about this tomorrow.’’

Admittedly, it’s a poor attempt at a joke and the game maker knows it too, smiling sheepishly.

As it is, no one is prepared for the soft sound that escapes their captain.

Kyousuke doesn’t care about the alarm clear in his voice when he asks, ‘’Tenma?’’ because he can’t see his best friend’s face from here and that sounded suspiciously like he’s about to cry.

He’s seen Tenma cry maybe twice before, but it’s never fun when it happens. He thinks it’s because the brunet doesn’t want to bother them with it, and it leaves him all the more worried, because when it happens it means Tenma’s truly at his limit.

The senpai have frozen, just as taken aback by the sudden change as the forward. Shindou has taken half a step forward, reacting physically before his mind really catches up, but unsure of how to continue now. ‘’Tenma?’’ he asks, and that’s what sets him off.

Tenma whips around at breakneck speed, eyes red but dry. He looks furious. ‘’If all you’re going to do is question my judgement, why did you choose me to be captain?’’ he snaps, words directed at Shindou, but his misery is betrayed by his wavering voice. ‘’I can’t do anything right in your eyes anymore!’’

‘’I-‘’ the older brunet stares at him, lost for words for a few seconds. ‘’Pardon?’’

Kyousuke would flinch if he wasn’t still so stunned by Tenma’s sudden outburst – Shindou resorting to formal language with any of them is never a good sign.

‘’All you’ve been doing is telling me how I’m wrong! Well, I’m sorry for not living up to your standards!’’

‘’Matsukaze Tenma!’’ Sangoku snaps. ‘’You don’t talk to your elders like that!’’

And never, never has Tenma raised his voice against Sangoku – he respects the keeper, possibly more than he respects anyone else on the team, but right now he doesn’t seem to care at all. ‘’But he does get to talk to me like this?’’ he retorts sharply, shoulders drawn so tight it seems physically uncomfortable. ‘’How is that fair!’’

‘’Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,’’ Shindou suddenly interferes, having found his voice again, and Tenma crosses his arms as he looks away, refusing to meet the strategist’s gaze. At that, Kyousuke really does flinch, and for good reason – because it takes their elder friend a mere second to break out of his shock and lash out. ‘’So now you’re going back to ignoring me? Real mature, Matsukaze.’’

Kyousuke has always been thankful for their former captain’s sharp tongue. This might be the first time he’s anything but.

Why did their smartest member also need to possess such a short fuse?

From the corner of his eye, he sees Nishiki wince, and Kirino roll his eyes – and then sees their expression fall into shock, no doubt mirroring his own, as Tenma suddenly gives a humorless laugh.

‘’You want to talk about maturity, Shindou-san?’’ grey eyes are ablaze with both fury and hurt, the brunet gripping his arms so tightly his tanned skin is drained of blood. None of them have ever heard such venom in his voice before. ‘’At least I don’t bully others because of a childish grudge! Grow up already, senpai.’’

For a second, Shindou’s face falls, although his expression hardens again immediately afterwards.

Instead of the angry shout from before, this time he sounds clipped and cold as he says, ‘’I don’t think I’m the one here who needs to grow up. Why do you think I question your judgement when you behave like this?’’ It seems like he wants to add more, but Kirino’s hand on his arm stops him. The defender mutely shakes his head when angry brown eyes find his own, and after a moment, Shindou sighs.

Kyousuke barely notices that, though. His attention is trained on Tenma, mind racing with questions.

It’s why he sees how Tenma angrily averts his gaze from the interaction between his two senpai, why the young captain suddenly notices his attention. It’s why he sees him waver, for just a moment, before his shoulders draw up defensively again and his face hardens as he stares unwaveringly at the forward. A challenge, if he’d ever seen one.

Kyousuke doesn’t understand why.

And he’s always used his words sparingly, but that doesn’t mean he’s afraid to speak his mind. It’s why he dares to ask, ‘’What’s wrong with you?’’

He tried to make his voice sound a bit softer, because his intention wasn’t to attack – this is his best friend, his first friend, why would he ever want to hurt him? – but Yuuichi has always told him to practice his people skills and suddenly he understands why.

‘’Are you serious?’’ Tenma asks, and then he shakes his head and turns away without saying anything else.

The forward finds himself at a loss for words – just what has made the brunet so upset? And what do he and Shindou have to do with it? Because it’s becoming more and more obvious that Tenma isn’t only shutting their elder friend out.

He’s pushing Kyousuke away too.

‘’Tenma,’’ Sangoku says, and he sounds stern enough that it gets the captain to look at him. ‘’Shindou.’’ He crosses his arms and gives both brunets a sharp look. ‘’I don’t know what’s got the both of you so upset with each other, but you need to talk it out. It’s messing up the team, and,’’ he stresses the last word when he notices their captain averting his gaze again, ‘’it’s hurting you both. Don’t let your stubbornness ruin your friendship.’’

At least it seems Shindou is considering his words, however miffed he may still look.

But, again, it’s Tenma who is frowning, who is refusing to look at any of them. Instead he keeps his eyes trained on the floor and asks, ‘’May I be excused?’’ and despite his polite words, he sounds strained.

Sangoku shares a troubled look with Kirino and Nishiki, but then he sighs and gives the go-ahead. The next second, their young captain is brushing past them all and disappearing through the door, leaving them to stare at his retreating back.

For a few moments, silence falls between the remaining players, no one quite knowing what to say. Sure, Kyousuke has noticed signs of this weeks ago already – maybe even before that – but it’s never been this bad.

He huffs, and shakes his head. Leave it to Tenma to get inside his head like this, to get them all so wound up for some unknown reason.

And yet, even as Kyousuke and the others begin to make their way back to the clubroom, he can’t ignore the dread settling in the back of his throat.

No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can’t get the furious look on Tenma’s face out of his mind.

————

I hope you enjoyed it! It doesn't quite answer your questions, sorry for that, but this is only a sneak peek of a larger series of one-shots - titled ''Limits'' - that I will hopefully post one day soon! This is directly related to Tenma's interactions with Shindou (and in part Tsurugi) during Galaxy - and beyond that, to the very start of the anime.

Remember how Raimon wasn't exactly the greatest team in the first few episodes? Yeah, Tenma does too.

Which is interesting because he doesn't seem like the person to hold a grudge, instead bottling it all up - until he's pushed to the limit and, well, the above happens.

I know it's not a complete answer, but I hope you're satisfied with this!

[bl4ckph0enix]

Daybreak

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You've tried to help your husband. Yet, you are forced to watch the wrong person getting crowned...

Wordcount: 1.9k

A/N: So, maybe many of you cannot relate to this. The idea came to me while I listened to the song 'Daybreak' by Dimash Qudaibergen. But I just had to write this because as someone who has to fight with very intense emotions, I can relate to this so unbelievably well. My heart broke for both Aemond and Aegon during the crowning scene. Aemond may be the villain of House of the Dragon, but it wasn't really his choice. No one gets born this malicious, one is made this way. And even when it actually is a deliberate choice at some point, growing up in a family like the Targaryen's only means that this attitude is forced upon you without a real chance to escape it.

English isn't my first language, please forgive any mistakes!

Stiffly, you stood together with your family-in-law on the podium in the Sept. Thousands of citizens were gathered in the hall, squeezing each other in order to get in to be able to see the crowning of Aegon II Targaryen. Your facial expression was completely blank and shock cursed through your body, causing to numb every emotion and dull every sense, and coldness slowly seeped into your bones. It's been three years now since you got married to Aegon's younger brother Aemond Targaryen. The both of you hadn't had a great start. Mean words and accusations had been thrown in both directions and you had actually hit him one or two times. He was the only person in this world that could get you riled up this much. And he also was the only person that you loved more than your own life.

You hadn't been able to avoid to fall in love with him. The both of you had partially been forced to spend time together and over the course of months, you had come to know Aemond better. You knew of his favorite things, of the things he hated, of his doubts and dreams. Especially his dreams. They were ones you shared. Having spent three years in his family, you knew as much as Aemond that he was a better man than his brother. He should be the one to be crowned today. Instead, he stood next to you, as stiffly as you yourself, his eye looking over the crowd with no emotion. Your fingers were intertwined with his and you could feel the warmth of his hand on your palm. Normally, it was reassuring and calming. But today, it did nothing to you.

You felt completely numb as you watched the kingsguard enter the Sept and build a corridor in the crowd for Aegon to go through. The tips of your fingers became cold and your breath slightly hitched in your throat, barely audible. One second later, you could feel the gaze of your husband on you, almost burning the right side of your face with its intensity. Of course he had heard you – he would always hear you, no matter where you were or how far away. It was your special bond that you both shared with each other after your Valyrian marriage; a bond that had developed with hate and rage, pain and tears, and that had turned into care and happiness, passion and love over time. The surroundings receded into the background, only noticeable at the edge of your field of vision as your empty eyes followed Aegon walking through the crowd. Somewhere distant in your mind, you registered that he seemed as unhappy and desperate as you felt right now deep down.

The events passed you by in a blur. You vaguely heard the Septon speak from far away, not able to follow the words that were spoken; you saw Aegon accepting his fate, the crown on his head, and you barely managed to hold yourself together as the searing pain that you had buried deep within you for today began to rise to the surface. But you held on. Because you knew that right now was not the time to lose it. You knew the pain Aemond held within himself that he never allowed to be seen. You knew of his childhood and youth, full of the bullying from his siblings and nephews, the lost of his eye, the expectations especially his mother had with him which he hadn't been able to meet, and his burning wish to follow his father on the throne after Viserys' death, to prove himself. Your hand that still held Aemond's became completely cold, even his warmth couldn't prevent it as you saw your meticulously detailed plan going down the drain right in front of your eyes. You knew that Aegon didn't want to be king, as much as Aemond and you didn't want him to be.

You couldn't explain when it all had started to go down the hill. Everything had been perfect. A few days before this important day, you had spoken to Aegon after having gone through everything with Aemond beforehand, how you wanted to do it. You had explained it in detail to Aegon and he had not hesitated to give his approval. One of the preparations had been to bribe the right people who you knew would support you to make Aegon disappear. They had agreed to help you because they had been able to see in Aegon's face and attitude that he did not want to be king. After everything was prepared, everything had gone smoothly today, almost as if everyone around you just wanted to play into your cards. Aegon had disappeared to hide above the dragonpit where no one would suspect him and would just have waited for an opportunity to board a ship to leave Westeros. Even when Aemond had come to you to tell you that his mother had sent out Ser Criston in order to search for Aegon, you had known that this wouldn't change anything.

And yet, here you stood, helplessly watching how the wrong man got crowned.

You could feel tears bubbling up in your throat and swallowed hard to keep them at bay. Still not the right time. You were thankful that Rhaenys Velaryon freed her dragon and disturbed the crowning ceremony, causing utter chaos and pain as her dragon hurt and killed people. You barely registered Aemond pushing himself in front of you to protect you, his hand on the right side of your hips to reassure himself that you were in fact behind him. You saw Rhaenys escape with her dragon as they tried to close the doors to prevent both her and the people from fleeing. But what happened next, you didn't know. You had a few flashing pictures of the kingsguard escorting you through the Red Keep to your chambers, which you shared with Aemond. The door was quietly closed behind you, but you didn't react at first. You still felt eerily numb, though the ripping pain was lurking beneath the surface, and you couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened during the last hour in your life.

Your gaze wandered out of the window at an extremely slow pace while your heartbeat started to quicken as your brain tediously began to catch up with what had happened. You knew that your emotions would nearly kill you the moment they would start to devour you. You tried to hold it back, to give yourself more time to maybe prepare a little bit for what was about to come. But you couldn't. The first sob escaped your throat mere seconds after you felt the barrier that you had built around your feelings begin to crumble down. The quite rustling of clothes somewhere beside you drew your attention and you saw Aemond standing a few feet away from you as your gaze flickered over to him, looking completely desperate, pained, and defeated.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that the man you loved with every fiber of your existence had to suffer this much.

Something finally snapped somewhere in your mind. Burning pain ripped through you, hatred for Queen Alicent and her father melted your intestines and rage flowed through your veins like liquid fire. The first chalice crashed against the wall with a loud noise, accompanied by your furious scream. Everything had been perfectly planned, even Aegon had agreed to your plan and had supported you. And now, here you were, damned to see your soulmate suffer. The next chalices, glasses, and plates were thrown through the room, clattering to the ground and crashing against the walls, splintering into a thousand pieces just like your soul did at the sight of Aemond. You weren't able to hold yourself back; blankets, pillows, cups, plates, chairs, and books were thrown through the room by you while you simultaneously screamed your throat raw. For you, it was the only way to handle this all-surrounding pain, rage, and hatred within you that chewed venomously at you and devoured you whole. Tears were streaming down your face and your silver-blonde hair was an absolute mess, the long strands completely tangled, but you couldn't care any less.

Nothing was anymore where it had been before. Even the table had got toppled over by you in your rage. You didn't even really notice that you grabbed the glass vase that stood on the windowsill with pretty flowers in it – a gift from Aemond's mother yesterday. Now it seemed to mock you. Before you could do something more, your knees finally gave way due to exhaustion, but that didn't stop you. As soon as you were sitting on the ground, you slammed the vase onto the stone with your hand still attached. The physical pain that shot through your hand as a big piece of glass cut deeply into your palm, was what brought you finally back a little bit. Your voice went quiet and soundless sobs shook your whole body, big tears still streaming down your cheeks and dropping to the ground and on your dress. You could see the dark color of a pair of breeches as Aemond knelt on the ground next to you, carefully taking your injured hand into his own.

“Please,” you sobbed. Your throat was sore and hurt, your voice hoarse and raspy, cracking at the end and almost swallowing the next words you choked out, “Please, Aemond, make it stop. It hurts so bad.”

Another wave of tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him. New pain tore your heart to shreds the moment you saw the wet shimmer staining his beautiful face. “I know,” he whispered, his own voice breaking and thus barely audible. He looked down at your hand again, turning it around and inhaling sharply when he saw the large shard of glass that stuck in your hand, drawing blood that already started to drop to the ground, accompanying the new tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“It hurts,” you breathed. There was no need for you to explain to Aemond that you didn't mean your hand. Your other hand came up and the tips of your fingers grazed his hairline and the upper part of his forehead, lovingly and soothing. “I am sorry,” you whispered, causing his head to snap up again to look at you. “I have failed you, my love.”

You could see the pain in his eye as you said these words. “No,” he contradicted you and shook his head. “No, you didn't fail me, Y/N. You gave everything I could have asked for, and even more.”

“Avy jorrāelan, ñuhyz zaldrīzes,” you said weakly and finally started to calm down, exhaustion slowly settling in. “So much that it hurts.” (I love you, my dragon.)

“I know,” was all Aemond said to this. “I can feel it.” He grabbed the shard of glass carefully and started to pull it out, causing you to contort your face in pain. “We will fix this, byka mēre, I promise you.” (little one.)

“Okay,” you sniffed and wiped the tears from his cheek. All that you wanted was to see him happy, truly happy. It had become the center of your life the moment you realized that you loved this man that was still a broken little child deep down. You knew that sitting on the Iron Throne with that crown upon his head was what would make him truly happy.

And you would give everything to get him on that throne. In the end, even your own life.

Maybe one day, I'll write another part, but I just had to get that off my chest.

[martialartslover7]

In defense of Sasuke Uchiha (Blank Period)

Another rant post of mine. Hoo boy.

Like, I don't know about you guys, but, honestly, Sasuke should have returned to the Leaf village, regurlarly, after the war. Not after months or years, and here is why: Sasuke may have chosen to leave the village and become a rogue ninja, but never forget...

...he is as much of a victim, as the rest of the entire Uchiha clan (safe for Madara and Obito), and the Leaf village, in the grand scheme of things. He was never the problem.

Remember, Sasuke wouldn't have even defected in the first place, had the Konoha elders not been such an ignorant and stubborn bunch, that is both stuck in the past, and unable to move on. Remaining bitter towards the Uchiha, until they get laid to rest in their coffins. ...Our totally trustworthy leaders, everyone! Would you still apply for a job with them, after what they had done to the Uchiha?

Here is a thing, if they were fine with the Uchiha getting sacrificed to "maintain peace" and wiping everything under the rug, too, where should we draw a line? Where does it stop? What other clan might have been next, had the Uchiha not been the ONLY ones to agree with a coup d'état? You really mean to tell me, neither of the clans, that had sensory abilities like the Hyuga, the Yamanaka, or even the Inuzuka, were ever made aware of this? This. Was. A. MASSACRE. This wasn't a spy operation, innocent civilians were slaughtered in the process, remember, not every Uchiha was even able to unlock their own Kekkei Genkai, so, the only logical conclusion is:

Either, Danzo might have blackmailed the other clans to shut their mouths about this incident, because, come on, NO ONE can tell me, the screams from men, women and infants, along with blood splatters, could have been missed so easily, I know the Uchiha were shoved into the very edge of the village, but what are the chances of this just getting ignored, just like that? Especially if you have the Byakugan, or you have a hound with you, like the Inuzuka?

The elders from each clan in Konoha were all in on this, as an orchestrated, planned event, choosing willingly to ignore it all, because hey, it's so convenient to just look away, when it doesn't concern your own clan, right?

This isn't the face of an "irredeemable piece of trash war criminal, who doesn't deserve forgiveness". This is the face of a man, who has seen and been told some shit, that cannot ever be unseen or unheard. Imagine being born into a world, where, the very second you drew breath, everyone hates you, just for existing, for things, you didn't even ask to be burdened with. Much less, when you were still a kid, too. And doing it in SECRET, no less. Dude. This doesn't take a genius to understand, how fucked right up this is.

Plus, am I the only one who finds it insanely shitty from either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, to never make any efforts to publically criticize or oppose the elders for what they have done to the Uchiha clan? Wanting to bring the truth about the entire clan to light, and put the elders and feudal lords on the spot? Just for the fact alone, that they never once tackled this subject during the Blank Period, is, to me, a very shitty thing to do, especially since Naruto prides himself the loudest on having made Sasuke come back to his senses, and yet, never once, does he challenge these old farts? Really? Maybe I am missing something, feel free to correct me, but from my memory, neither he, or Kakashi, when he was still Hokage, made ANY efforts to publically apologize to the Uchiha clan, or even so much as trying to build memorial stones for the deceased Uchiha, or hell, even Itachi (I think?). And yes, I know, the clan was at the verge of starting a civil bar, but again:

NOT ALL OF THEM. WERE FINE. WITH IT. ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING, IT ALL MOSTLY STEMMED FROM MADARA BEING A SORE LOSER, AND TOBIRAMA BEING A RACIST PIECE OF GARBAGE. AND A HUGE PORTION OF THE UCHIHA WERE NOT EVEN ASSIGNED SHINOBI. PRAY TELL, KILLING EVERYONE, BECAUSE OF A FEW ROTTEN APPLES MAKES EVERYTHING OK THEN?!?!?!?!?!

And Kakashi bears Obito's Sharingan, he is living evidence too, of what public scrutiny and scapegoating can do to a person! His life, is essentially no different from either Naruto or Sasuke, and yet, despite having taught Sasuke, and still loving him as a teammate, no, as FAMILY, he NEVER ONCE HELPED HIM GETTING HIS NAME CLEARED?! What the FUCK, Kishimoto?

Also, can I be honest? I hate Boruto, as a follow-up story, for a different reason altogether. That being:

It STILL pretends as if the Uchiha are "evil, by default", and the elders are still, somehow, by some twisted "miracle", "in power", during Naruto's and Kakashi's rule. I mean, just for the fact, that these dried up twigs still have any say, WHATSOEVER, even the tiniest bit of presence in ANY capacity, after all the vile shit that they have pulled, by siding with Danzo, and making backhanded deals with other villages, is enough of a reason for me to more than sympathize with Sasuke's decision to never truly consider this village home, because WHY WOULD HE? These assholes ruined his life, way before he was even born, and yet these same jesters expect Sasuke to live in seclusion, and in shame, over what his heritage has done, but taking accountability for their own actions? Pffft, noooo, why would they? Their reputation as "village leaders" is more important than confronting their own shortcomings...

So, no, after the war, Sasuke should have been given some form of leniency, with either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi having gone off to spread the word to other nations that what he did, cannot easily be pardoned, but they at least, THE BARE MINIMUM, deserve to know and understand, WHY he did all this. This. THIS course of action would have been a serious love letter to Sasuke, a sign of appreciation that, no matter where he went, he will always matter, even if he believes himself to be undeserving of it, because: It just isn't productive to be leaving an already scarred individual like him in the mold of "all Uchiha, bad", because that just won't work out. Paying for his wrongs is one thing, but putting him, for the rest of his life, along with his future descendants in the "square of shame", is just plain pathetic. Sasuke deserves to have some peace and quiet, too.

Moral of the story: DO NOT. LET HISTORY. REPEAT ITSELF.

Look, this post is not meant to excuse anything Sasuke has done, I am only providing more context that explains, why I feel like, the story was doing him dirty, especially near the end of Shippuden and during the Blank Period. You can think whatever you want about him, I don't care, all I am saying is, even someone like him deserves some well-deserved closure, because, that never happened. The stigma has not disappeared, and it wasn't Sasuke's doing, it was Madara's, don't get that confused. Besides, go on, keep ignoring the concept of "from action, follows a reaction", just so you can keep twisting and turning it, to always make Sasuke appear like the bad guy. Keep doing. You're doing great. In exposing how stupid and ignorant you are, frankly put.

Sasuke deserves to live in peace, he deserves to be happy, and not live in another illusion of supposed "peace", when really, nothing has changed, he deserves better. And look, we can judge Itachi all we want, but in the end, he still loved his brother, and that remains forever, all he did, was for him, as twisted as his method ended up being. It still ended up saving lives. No one else deserves to bear such a burden. Which makes it even more imperative to not wipe something as important as this under the rug, because "the truth is too unpleasant". Case closed.

Peace.

[trashy-corvian]

Once again what could have been keeps me up at night. Just a mess of thoughts so bear with me. Usual warning for terrible grammar and typos

So, the lesson 16 and the rest of season 1. We all hated it, it's trash.

Timeline doesn't make sense. MC makes a pact with Belphie at Dia's birthday party. Which is at Halloween. Which is in October. Am i supposed to believe that ALL pact making/building relationships/forging bonds happened in 2 MONTHS???

Or maybe they go by japanese timeline which is ,ok more realistic, but still not enough time for someone (sup)

We never got to have Satan bonding time after making a pact with him. Unfair and homophobic if you ask me.

In better version of obm i propose the following. Satan, with all of his baggage, sees how brothers start to treat MC. He sees how all of their kindness and strength of character, all their efforts, everything that they done gets diminished. All of this is not becaise of MC as a person but because they related to Lilith (big sus on this but to each their own).

Satan sees it. And it makes him ANGRY

(The following based on my own MC so it has headcanons)

I propose the ending of season 1 to be Satan's time to shine. He will become our supporter, our confidant. The only one who will see how fucked up it all is. MC has no trust left for the brothers, their behavior hurted them deeply. Satan is the only one they can trust.

Maybe MC will tell Satan or he will ulfigure it out on his own but when the "being murdered isn't ok for humans" will click ohhhh. He also fucked up for ignoring this at first. Feeling guilty and searching up books on human psychology, consulting Solomon (who is immortal and his advice is shit)

Solomon who realises something is wrong. Gets so fucking angry when MC explains what happened.

Just Satan and Solomon being the only ones who MC talks to. And Luke ofc but you can't tell him about the murder.

Planting seeds for Simeon character arc. He thinks MC just needs to forget it all. They need to think of brothers first. Think about how your behavior hurts them , MC. They're happy about their sister, why must you ruin this? Just forgive already

MC won't even stays for the rest of the year. They got back to human world with Solomon to study under him. They summon Satan so he can visit.

And the season 2 is, again, how MC is a human represantative making sure Exchange programm will be safe for humans. And this time it's the brothers who seek us out. Reverse roles from season 1 so now they need to get MC's forgiveness before they got back to human world again

Now i need 1 million $ to commission someone for a fanfic

[fyonahmacnally]

Kiss Me in the Rain

It’s a quiet Friday evening. They’re quietly basking in each other’s company on the rooftop terrace of Kara’s apartment building. Since the blonde’s return, it’s become a common occurrence. Almost every time Lena asks what she wants to do, Kara’s response is ‘spend time with you doing simple things’. It’s something she has been insistent about in the months since she’s been home from the Phantom Zone, indulging in the small things.

Of course, Lena’s certainly not going to argue. Why would she? She’s been pining over her gorgeous best friend for years, always willing to give her time to the woman. Any time spent with Kara is time well spent, in her opinion. Besides, there is no one else she’d give her time to, no one else worthy. 

Their current position has them leaning against the wall of the building, gazing out at the city with its twinkling lights and people mulling about. Inquisitive green eyes wander toward the distinct profile of her best friend standing next to her. She’s in awe of the way the dwindling rays of the sun seem to caress her tan skin and create a starburst of color in golden waves. All the while, her traitorous heart zealously flutters against her ribs, inelegantly clamoring to deposit itself into Kara’s strong hands.

The ravenette’s thoughts are broken as her eyes land on the concerned deep blue orbs staring back at her. Kara’s eyebrows crinkle and her eyes drop briefly to Lena’s chest before darting back up, a look in them that shoots sparks right down her spine. “Everything okay? Your heart just did some interesting acrobatics.” A lopsided smile joins the concerned crinkle on Kara’s handsome face.

Lena laughs. She’s been caught and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it. Yet again her body tells on her. No matter how much stoicism she uses to mask it, she’ll never fool super hearing. Maybe she needs to find a spell for that, she idly considers. “Yes, I’m fine. Just…lost in my thoughts.” She smiles, feeling the blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. “Sometimes my brain still needs to see that you’re real, that you’re truly here. Sorry for staring.”

A warm hand lands on the small of Lena’s back and another on her stomach. Kara turns her body until they’re facing each other. “I’m here and very real, Lena. Thanks to your beautiful brain.” She leans forward, places a soft kiss to the ravenette’s forehead, and pulls her close until they’re in a full body embrace. “I’m so grateful for you. You’ve saved me so many times and in so many ways. More than you know.”

Lena’s breath hitches and her eyes flutter. The position is nothing new, but she still isn’t used to being so tactile with someone, having someone in her space again. Not yet, anyway. Kara’s warmth is something she wasn’t sure she’d have again and she cherishes every moment, but it absolutely steals her breath each time it happens. Specifically now that she is sure of what she feels and what she almost lost. “Kara.” She whispers, desperately trying to swallow the lump settling in her throat. “I missed you so much.” She blinks back the tears stinging her eyes, refusing to let them fall. 

“I missed you too, Lena.The Phantom Zone made me relive losing you a million times.” She leans back and smiles sadly down at the watery green eyes of the woman she now realizes she’s very deeply in love with. “I feel like we have a lot of lost time to make up for. That I have so many things to atone for, if you’ll let me. I’ve been home for months and I know we spend most of our free time together, but it just…it never feels like enough.” She chuckles and rolls her eyes at herself as her cheeks turn rosy.

“Aww, does Supergirl want to hang out with little ole me?” Lena winks, smirks, and quirks a well-manicured brow at the blonde, loving the effect she has on her. Clearing her throat of the welling emotion, she returns to seriousness. “I feel the same way, Kara. Making up for lost time, earning your forgiveness, and unquestionably wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. All of it. I will never tire of being with you.”

A shy smile stretches across full pink lips as azure eyes curiously scan pale features, seemingly looking for an answer to unasked questions. The blonde shakes her head, rogue thoughts pushed aside. “Same. I think I could spend every waking moment with you and still miss you in my sleep.” Kara shrugs and leans back into their still lingering hug. She turns her face into the warmth of Lena’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent that is simply Lena. Her lips softly graze the pulsing artery under soft skin as she speaks. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I don’t think I would be adjusting so well without you.”

Again, Lena’s breath hitches. The heat of Kara's breath and feel of her supple lips against the skin of her neck sends electricity skittering across her body and down her spine. She tightens her arms around the blonde’s back and runs her hands across her shoulder blades, pulling their bodies impossibly closer. “I’m here for you, Kara. Whatever you need. And for the record, I am perfectly okay spending every waking moment with you.” She mutters under her breath, ‘sleeping moments too’, forgetting that the super can still hear her. 

Kara laughs and pulls away from Lena just enough that they are face to face again. She tilts her head to the side and stares for a moment, watching as pale cheeks turn pink. “Did you forget about my super hearing again?” A knowing smirk sitting on her lips. “You want to spend your nights with me too, huh?” She laughs as ivory skin darkens into a rouge. 

“I suppose I did forget.” Lena says as she looks anywhere but at the blonde. “You definitely weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Hmm, well I did. Does that mean you’ll sleep over tonight?” A hopeful, bright smile spreads across Kara’s face. “I was planning to ask anyway.”

A soft giggle rushes through Lena’s lips before she can stop it. “I suppose I can do that.” She pulls them both back toward the wall to look out at the now darkened sky. Desperate to change the subject, she points to the clouds across the city. “It looks like it might rain.”

“It does.” She smiles at the blatant subject change. “There’s something so alluring about the rain. A magnetic mystery. Something oddly romantic.” She nudges Lena’s shoulder next to her, ducking her head in slight embarrassment at her overshare. Slightly worried that the dark haired genius woman can see through her and spot the feelings that run wildly through her veins. 

A soft, reflective smile appears on Lena’s face. “I used to have this daydream, or maybe a fantasy of sorts, when I was younger that involved rain.” She fidgets with her fingers where they rest on the edge of the wall in front of her. “I’m not completely sure why or where it came from, but it was the one that always stuck.”

Kara watches her closely, quietly encouraging the ebony haired genius to keep talking. When it becomes clear that Lena is lost to her own thoughts of whatever this fantasy might be, she reaches over to still her wringing hands. “Where’d you go? Did you drift off into this little fantasy of yours?” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, lacing their fingers together. “You can share, you know? All of your daydreams and fantasies are safe with me.”

Lena isn’t sure how Kara meant that statement, but her body took it to mean something decidedly not platonic. Once more, sparks skate across her skin and down her spine, landing squarely between her thighs. Shaking her head of the increasingly naughty thoughts, she glances over at the blonde. Her best friend is biting her bottom lip and staring at her lips at the same time. 

She licks her lips and lifts a questioning brow when darkened blue eyes lock with her own. “I did get lost in my dream world for a minute. It’s been a while since I’ve allowed myself to think about things like that.” She smirks as Kara’s eyes drift down to her lips again. “Find something interesting, Kara?”

“Hmm? Oh. Sorry.” Kara says, feeling her blush spread across her cheeks and down her chest. “I was just thinking about what this fantasy involving rain could be. You’ve never really shared anything like that with me before and now I am very curious.”

A melodic laugh fills the air around them as it bursts from Lena’s lips. She squeezes the blonde’s hand still intertwined with her own. “I’ve never really shared them with anyone, I guess. Especially not this one. Growing up in the environment I did, I was never really allowed to express fantasies or daydreams of any kind. Especially not any that involved romanticizing.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Could you imagine Lillian or Lex having any type of romantic inclinations?! They were barely human on a good day.”

Kara chuckles. There’s a sparkle of mischief in those beguiling green eyes. She’s spent many nights thinking about what kind of teenager Lena might have been and moments like this make her think there’s still much to learn about the mystery that is Lena Luthor. “I bet you are full of lots of surprises, aren't you?” She grins as she sees the cheshire cat smile make its way onto plump lips. “Oh, that smile tells me I’m not wrong!” She laughs and lifts their hands to her lips to place a soft kiss to the back of a delicate pale hand

“There are so many things you don’t know about me, Miss Danvers.” She winks and leans over to whisper in the blonde’s ear. “I was quite rebellious in my own ways. Some that very few people know about.”

She shudders at the wet warmth of Lena’s breath against the shell of her ear. They are most definitely skating on the edges of their normal flirtatious banter and it’s scattering goosebumps all over her impenetrable skin. Now she absolutely wants to know more, but specifically wants to know what this little fantasy is about. “You know you have to tell me now. I’m always curious to know more about you, but this has greatly piqued my interest.”

“What do you want to know?” Lena gives her a smoldering look, lightly running her free hand up and down the skin of Kara’s forearm. She smiles at the goosebumps that follow her touch. “I am an open book for you, Darling.”

Kara practically chokes on air and disbelief at the look the ravenette gives her. There is a shift in the energy between them. She’s not sure what it is or what’s happening, but everywhere Lena’s fingers touch her skin feels like her body is on fire. “W-what’s the rain fantasy? And I definitely want to know about your rebellious ways.” She tilts her head to the side. “I bet you went out and got tattoos and piercings, didn’t you?”

With a devilish smirk, she leans toward the blonde and whispers, “Oh absolutely. I still have several piercings. They’re just not visible.” She chuckles as she watches Kara’s eyes bulge and hears an almost inaudible squeak escape. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll show them to you someday.”

A very inelegant whimper makes its way out of her throat and her imagination runs wild. She has some ideas about where Lena’s piercings are and it does quite a few assuredly non-platonic things to her body. “I think it would be a lot…of fun. To know. Those things. About you.” She clears her throat in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “Now, what about the rain fantasy? Are you going to tell me or keep avoiding it?”

Lena laughs. A full belly laugh. She caught Kara off guard, but she recovered pretty well. “Are you sure you want to know? We’ve never really talked about those types of things together and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She smiles at her best friend. “You can’t unknow this about me once it’s out there. Last chance.”

“I promise I want to know. There’s nothing you can say to me that will make me love you any less, Lena. It’s not possible.” She grins at the rosy cheeks she gets in return. “Plus, you’re only ever evasive like that if it’s something that means a lot to you. That will always make me want to know.”

She releases a deep breath and observes the way Kara’s eyes dance curiosity in the now overcast moonlight. The clouds have moved closer to where they are and darkened the sky around them. “I think it started when I watched The Notebook when I was 18. I kept hearing the girls in my dorm talking about how romantic the movie was and I had never seen it.” She glances at Kara. The blonde is listening intently so she continues. 

“By the way, that movie is emotionally devastating. Anway, I watched it on my laptop tucked into my bed in my dorm. The scene where they confess their feelings and end up kissing in the rain resonated with me and sparked a fantasy of being kissed in the rain by the love of my life.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Unfortunately, life doesn't always work that way. So, over the years, the fantasy has evolved and built upon the first kiss in the rain.”

“What has it evolved into? It obviously started from kissing in the rain, but there seems to be a lot more to it based on the look in your eyes and how far your mind wandered off.” Kara grins and watches Lena’s mind slowly drift again. “Just like that! You just drifted off again.”

Lena shakes her head and forces her thoughts back to the conversation, away from the erotic fantasy that has begun to feature the woman next to her in recent years. “Sorry. Well, it varies, but it always involves kissing in the rain. Sometimes there are torn sheets in the rain as well.” She cuts her eyes to the side and watches as the blonde’s brain catches up with her words, chuckling when blue eyes go wide. “The simplest one starts with a picnic under the stars and ends with making love on the blanket. But, it’s always interrupted by the rain.”

She pauses and gathers her thoughts before finally adding. “I think my favorite is making love on the blanket. When the rain comes, we scramble to cover ourselves and end up tearing the sheets that are covering our naked skin. As the rain falls, our bare bodies are pressed together while we stand in the rain wrapped in the sheets. We share a passionate kiss as the rain pleasantly stings our skin. Then we profess our love for each other as we rest our foreheads together in the middle of a rainstorm.” She sighs and shrugs her shoulders. “Or something like that.”

Kara stands stock still and is eerily quiet beside her. She’s unsure what to say or do after the incredibly intimate and vulnerable confession. Swallowing hard, she chances a glance at the woman next to her and what she sees sends a shudder through her body and throb to her core. The blue of her eyes barely rim the wide, blown out pupils. Her cheeks are flush and her breathing is heavier than before. If she had to guess, she would say the blonde is turned on by the revelation. And well, she’s not sure what to do with that at the moment. 

So, she clears her throat and tries for self-deprecation. “It’s a bit unrealistic, but something about it has always stayed with me.” She smiles shyly. “Have you ever fantasized about something like that?”

“Um, yeah. I guess so.” Kara swallows hard. She’s not sure she can speak coherently right now. Every word and the way Lena talked about it produced some very vivid images. The images are still dancing in her mind's eyes. Images of her and Lena acting out the fantasy. And well, let’s just say that her heart isn’t just beating in her chest anymore. “T-that was…I can understand why it stayed with you. I think it will likely stay with me too.” She chuckles.

Lena leans her head onto Kara’s shoulder. “Hmm, glad I have someone to share the burden now.” She laughs and squeezes the bicep of the arms that’s holding up her head. “There’s just something about kissing in the rain that seems like it would be so raw and real. I think it would be a very memorable first kiss.”

They stand in silence for a while. Both lost in their own thoughts, when the first drop of rain hits their skin. It takes another five minutes before the rain really starts coming down. Before they know it, they’re both laughing and leaning into each other, letting the rain wash over their skin.

“Well, I guess that means we need to call it a night, huh?” Kara says, pulling Lena away from the wall and toward the door to the stairwell. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

Lena smiles. “Sharing with you makes it easier.” She pulls the blonde to a stop just before they get to the door, slowly running her hands up the now damp skin of Kara’s forearms. “What if I wanted it to be you?” She asks quietly as her arms loop around the blonde’s shoulders.

Still darkened blue eyes bounce between hopeful green. “W-what do you mean?” Kara asks, swallowing the hope that keeps trying to camp out in her throat. “Tell me, Lena.”

Delicate fingers mingle with the loose strands at the nape of Kara’s neck, pulling their foreheads together. Lena gently rubs their noses together, their breath mingling in the scant space between them. She breathes against the pink lips she’s imagined kissing for years. “My first kiss in the rain. The fantasy has been you for years. All of it has been.” A shaky breath escapes as their eyes lock and she presses forward. “Tell me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.” Kara whispers. “Please. Kiss me in the rain.”

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48282733