#trying full court shots until I got one

[gonzodangerfeels]

Horses make me nervous.

I never saw a need to rely on riding an animal that bad.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

trope: “enemies” to lovers

theme: angst?

tw: light swearing, self homophobia

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hii! i absolutely adore reading pazzi fics so i figured i’d write one myself 🙃 i’m sorry this is so boring but i kinda want to build it up yk. i also apologize for my lack of basketball terminology. and i’m aware yanna and ashlynn aren’t the same year as carol and azzi, but for the purpose of this series, pretend they are.

CHAPTER ONE

USA BASKETBALL TRIALS

regardless of paige’s flashy smile and head held high, her heart was beating out of her chest with nerves. this was it. the USA basketball trials she’s been working so hard for. it was time to prove she was the best she knew she could be.

walking into the open gym, there was a few girls scattered around, talking quietly amongst their friends. some were already getting reps in, working on their dribbling and shooting while others stretched. paige felt her heart slow down at the sight of other young girls looking equally as nervous.

quickly setting her belongings in a nearby locker, paige began to stretch her already sore limbs. yesterday, she practiced and practiced until the sun went down, trying to calm the overwhelming feeling of what if i’m not good enough?

paige looked over at the gym door as it opened loudly, spotting a curly headed girl clutching the straps of her backpack tightly. paige’s cheeks immediately heated at the sight of the beautiful brunette; she looked like nobody she’s ever seen before.

“alright ladies,” the head USA coach shouted, “time for warms up. get stretched, practice shooting, then we’ll get this show on the road.”

one hour later in and paige started to feel herself. her confidence spiked as soon as shooting begun after noticing how she’s clearly one of the best ones here, although she’d never say that out loud.

it eventually came time for 3v3s, so the coaches could closely analyze each player’s strengths. the first team was fran, azzi, and caitlin, while the second was paige, aliyah, and celeste.

it started with caitlin draining a few 3s, aliyah getting all the rebounds, and paige raking up assist after assist. once azzi had her hands on the ball, though, was when everyone realized who they were up against. azzi, with her textbook perfect shot, hit five 3s back to back, regardless of the good defense celeste was applying. paige was shocked to see such a good shooter, especially one she’s never heard of before these tryouts.

after a failed shot, aliyah secured the rebound and passed it to paige who then moved it up the floor at full speed. azzi, the slightly shorter brunette who paige noticed earlier, was successfully keeping up with her pace.

annoyed at azzi’s skills, paige passed the ball behind her back, causing azzi to slip to her knees. paige then took the easy layup, smiling smugly to herself.

“jesus,” azzi muttered, still on the floor.

paige couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of azzi on the ground, considering how good of a player she truly is.

“you good, azzi?” fran asked, helping pull her to her feet.

“yeah, just fine,” azzi replied.

paige didn’t ignore the glare she got from azzi, who purposefully hit her shoulder.

“it was an accident,” paige said defensively.

“whatever,” azzi rolled her eyes, brushed it off, and continued to focus on the 3v3.

only a minute after, azzi had her hands on the ball, bringing it up the court, with paige on her heels. she got to the 3 point line; paige set up her defense with her hand out, ready for the 3 shot to come, but azzi took a step back and drained it before paige could react.

azzi snickered at paige’s expression. it was paige’s turn to harshly glare at her, which only caused azzi to laugh harder.

“oh, shut up, you’re not even that good,” paige lied through her teeth.

“yeah, well, you aren’t either,” azzi said.

“paige, azzi, can we focus, please?” the coach shouted, making several heads turn to look at the two who turned red and nodded.

five days past, and the rest of the tryout went smoothly. azzi and paige didn’t have to interact again, and certainly made good impressions on the coaches with their skill sets.

today was the day the team was posted, and paige couldn’t be more nervous yet excited. the final 20 girls were all doing their own thing, some continued to shoot, while others socialized with the friends they’ve made. paige worked on her dibbling on her own, stealing glances at azzi who was with celeste, laughing together. paige couldn’t help the jealous feeling she got in her chest.

“it’s posted!” one of the girls squealed.

all 20 young girls rushed over to the paige that said the lucky 12 who made the USA basketball, 2017 team. somehow, azzi and paige ended up standing next to one another, but didn’t seem to mind at this moment. once it was paige’s turn to scroll through the names, she quickly spotted hers and smiled to herself, proudly. azzi was next to look, and instantly recognized hers right under paige’s. she blew out a breath in relief and congratulated the other girls that also made the team, as well as comforted those who didn’t.

paige’s eyes wandered to azzi, annoyed that she made the team but also secretly pleased, knowing how well of a player she is. she told herself it was for that reason, and that reason only.

“congrats, paige,” azzi told her, though her face was said she was not happy about them being on the same team. not after their little interaction in day one of tryouts.

“thanks, i guess,” paige muttered, keeping her face neutral.

they went their separate ways, azzi going to her friend celeste while paige walked over to aliyah and caitlin. azzi pretended to ignore the looks paige was sending her, deciding to focus on her and celeste’s conversation rather than wondering what paige was thinking.

throughout all of the USA basketball games, azzi and paige continued to ignore one another. they barely spoke, and if forced to, it wouldn’t last long.

one night after a tough game, paige laid in her hotel bed, scrolling on her phone while her roommate, samantha, was sound asleep. she stumbled upon azzi’s instagram paige, totally on accident. she definitely didn’t look it up. she couldn’t stand azzi.

paige scrolled through azzi’s posts, closely looking at azzi throughout the years. paige felt her cheeks grow warm at azzi’s beauty; her full lips not that she was looking at her lips, perfect brown curls, cute ass dimples.

with a slip of a finger, paige accidentally liked a photo from 2015. panicking, paige closed instagram and threw her phone down.

“oh, shit,” paige muttered, embarrassed and praying azzi wouldn’t notice the small like.

only a few minutes later, paige felt her phone buzz from underneath her. it was a instagram notification. paige’s heart began to race as her shaking hand clicked on the notification. of course, it was a dm from none other than azzi fudd.

stalker, much? it read.

paige’s face reddened as embarrassment flooded her body. not knowing how to respond, paige accidentally left azzi on read for a short while.

damn, read too? okay paige.

paige’s eyes widen at the dm. why did azzi care that she left her on read? they hate each other. she should leave it alone, really.

sorry. and it was an accident, paige typed.

anxiously waiting for azzi to reply, paige continued to observe azzi’s few posts. pictures with her friends and family, a cute photo of her dog, pictures from previous basketball games. she attempted and failed to hide her admiration for azzi, but she just couldn’t help it. her beauty was unreal.

paige hated these warm feelings she was having towards azzi. towards a girl in general. why can’t i be normal? she would constantly ask herself.

lol ur fine, read azzi’s dm.

paige didn’t want the conversation to end, not just because she was bored out of her mind, but also because she kind of liked talking to azzi, although she would never admit it.

so wyd? paige quickly sent without having a chance to overthink it.

why do u care? azzi replied. she had a good point; why did paige care what azzi was up too? she definitely had better things to do than texting paige, someone she hated, at 10 pm.

dunno, just curious i guess. forget it lol paige replied.

i’m laying in bed, wondering why in the world is paige bueckers looked at my instagram posts.

well damn, she had paige there. what excuse did she have? i wanted to look at you even though i’m supposed to hate you? that wouldn’t do.

must be a glitch was the best paige could come up with. she definitely didn’t want to admit to looking at her profile, though it’s obvious she was.

a glitch. sure paige, whatever you say.

not knowing how to continue the conversation, paige liked the message and plugged her phone into the charger. sleep soon consumed her, letting all of the azzi thoughts go.

it was the day of the final USA basketball season. the girls have won all of the games, blowing each team out of the water. azzi’s 3s were on point nearly every time, while paige mastered in passing to open teammates.

the team was up 25 points against canada. both paige and azzi were doing well the entire game, so they were given a break to rest on the bench. paige shifted nervously with having azzi’s presence so close, still extremely embarrassed about her accidentally liking an old post of azzi’s only a couple of nights ago.

azzi was laughing at something celeste said, causing paige to look over at her. when they made eye contact, paige almost instantly looks away while her cheeks grew pink.

get azzi out of your mind, she told herself over and over. frustration overwhelmed her because why in the world did paige feel for azzi? she wasn’t suppose to likes girls. she just wanted to be normal.

“you okay, paige?” azzi questioned, cautiously looking over at the girl.

“just fine, azzi,” paige nearly shouted.

“okay, geez, i was just asking,” azzi scrunched her eyebrows, confused at paige’s outburst.

“don’t,” paige answered coldly, earning a glare from not only azzi but also celeste and fran, who had previously heard paige.

the game ended soon after the two’s interaction. the 2017 USA basketball season had come to a close, with them winning 105-71. the girls began shouting and hugging one another. paige hugged most of her teammates, all besides azzi who she made a point to ignore.

mid hug with aliyah, paige felt someone back into her, hard. shocker, it was azzi who was beaming, still absorbing the win.

trying to ignore azzi’s cute ass smile, paige said, “watch where you’re going.”

azzi’s smile faltered immediately at paige’s attitude. “it was an accident, god.”

“yeah, well, make less of them,” paige rolled her eyes, moving away from azzi.

however, azzi was done with the constant annoyance paige carried when talking with her. azzi quickly grabbed the older girl’s shoulder, causing her to face her.

“what is your problem, paige?”

anger clouded paige’s face, “you, dammit!”

“what have i ever done to you?” azzi shouted back.

“god, azzi, just leave me alone!” paige pushed azzi back, making her slip into the backs of her teammates.

“jesus, paige, calm down, will you?” caitlin said, helping azzi reposition herself.

paige looked at her teammates glaring at her. feeling ashamed and embarrassed, she bolted for the exit door, never turning back regardless of the coaches shouts.

PRESENT DAY

can u hurry tf up? nika’s message came into paige’s phone.

“oh fuck,” paige had totally forgotten today was the day incoming freshman were being introduced to everyone. paige, nika, and aubrey had taken the responsibility to show them around, though paige fought it every chance she got. she knew who was going to be here, and dreaded having to show her around.

paige quickly brushed her teeth, threw on a comfortable outfit, and tied her blonde hair back into a low ponytail. she slipped on a pair of nike slides and made her way to the gym where they planned to meet.

aubrey and nika were already in the gym by the time paige got there, no surprise. paige was constantly late to things like this, not that she cared.

“about time, p,” nika called out as paige made her way to them.

“yeah, yeah, sorry,” paige smiled at the two of her closest friends.

“when do you think they’re gonna be here?” aubrey asked.

“pretty soon, i think,” nika answered, checking her phone for the time.

“i heard they’re really good,” aubrey said, a grin on her face.

“i sure hope, cause we need it,” nika replied, laughing a little.

“hey! i think we make do with our players just fine,” paige told nika.

“p, we’re down like 5 players. we need this.”

as soon as nika said it, the gym door opened and in walked the 4 incoming freshman. caroline led the group, then ayanna, followed by ashlynn. paige’s eyes wandered before looking back at the last freshman. as soon as paige saw her, paige’s heart quickened and her palms began to sweat. azzi fudd looked the exact same as she did back in 2017, with the same bright smile and dimples popping out. however, when azzi’s line of sight landed on paige, her smiled dropped.

“here we go,” paige whispered to herself before the freshmen crossed the room to the three girls.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 28 THUG IT OUT

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes

NOTES | I'm sorry this chapter took so long, my brain just isn't working to write these days so I tried to take my time with this chap, tbh I'm still not super happy with it but I know a lot of you wanted to read it!! also RENJUN IS BACK!!!!!!

I currently have an unwelcome visitor (a pigeon) in my apartment and I have no idea how to get rid of it, it's munching on spinach in my kitchen rn.. and my cat had been trying to eat the pigeon.. also aespa + tbz concept photos...

The tension hangs in the air like a thick fog, palpable and suffocating.

Much different to the usual high spirits and aspirations that fill the changing room before a game, heavier somehow.

Y/n let's her gaze linger on the brunette across the room, as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, tugging at each strand.

Ningning feels the eyes on her, but makes no effort to meet them, struggling to gulp down the endless amount of words she wants to scream at her best friend. And God, there are a lot.

But she can't find the courage to speak them, at least not now as coach continuously shouts for the captain, getting ready for the debrief before the game. Despite how much she cares for y/n, Ningning can't find it within herself to shoot even a forced smile her way as she heads out of the room. She sighs.

This was for her benefit anyways.

Y/n's dismissal hurt ningning no doubt, but if she didn't realise soon enough, y/n would be hurting too.

Y/n can barely remember how she got here, the ball she had just caught pressing into her fingertips, it's material heavier than she once remembered as she stood at the edge of the basketball court. She remembers being in the changing rooms not so long ago, when in reality, the game was now in full swing.

Against the vibrant energy of the game, y/n couldn't help but feel lost, her eyes flickering between Jaemin and Ningning in turn. The only thing keeping her grounded being the cool air against her face.

5 seconds she thinks. She has 5 seconds to make a decision, Ningning's open arms call out to her, she was in the perfect position, but y/n doesn't reach to shoot the ball forwards.

They share a look, nothing like the triumphant smirks they were used to, instead every glance feels charged, as if the unspoken words linger just beneath the surface of their gaze, waiting to be addressed.

The clock ticks in her mind, her own voice calling out to her, telling her to just suck up her pride and pass the fucking ball to Ningning, but she doesn't want to.

No matter how much she tries to convince herself to, she can't, she doesn't.

The inner conflict swirls, part of her wanting nothing more than to win this game, but another whispers excuses, convincing her to shoot her shot.

A couple seconds, it's all she has.

There's an urgency in the eyes surrounding her, begging her to pass the ball, to not let the pressure get to her, to make quick decisions like she always would, but the gears in her brain don't grind half as quickly as normal, her heartbeat quickening.

Her palms are sweaty, loosening grip against the ball, a sign of the time passing by.

Just pass the god damn ball.

There's no time. Not enough to consciously make a choice between her pride and what she knew was right, at least. So y/n launches the ball forwards, eyes open, yet completely unaware of her own actions, until the crowd erupts.

And even when the game reaches its end and as she follows her team off court, y/n's thoughts are overwhelming.

There's a distant echo of celebration, and a contrasting muffle of loss but her mind drifts far away, lost in thought. Her competitive nature feels suppressed by too many emotions and she's unbothered by the outcome of the game that usually meant so much to her.

Ningning was right, it was all she could think, and she knew she owed her best friend an apology. But perhaps she needed to talk with Jaemin even more.

She feels torn, part of y/n wonders if she's being overdramatic, putting way too much thought into something so simple, another part knows rushing into something like this isn't sensible. Even if it was just talking, there was far too much hurt surrounding the topic.

It hurt when Jaemin left, there was no doubt about it.

But years had passed since then, and things weren't the same.

Y/n didn't think she was nearly as strong now as she was then, she wasn't nearly as brave, now she was a skeleton of the strong willed, determined young girl she once used to be.

She had held onto Jaemin as the small string of familiarity that connected her to everything she once knew, to everything she once had, to everyone she once had. She much preferred living in the blissful ignorance that he wouldn't walk away than to potentially lose him again.

It wasn't healthy. She knew that much. The things he had done and she had forgiven him for in no less than a blink of an eye, Ningning was right, Y/n had to talk to Jaemin, and she had to do it soon. Before she convinced herself otherwise.

prev | masterlist | next

TAGLIST: @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @nanawrlds @222brainrot @sungookie @pepperedthot @dinonuguaegi @haechansbbg @90s-belladonna @bath1lda @jeongintwt @daegalfangirl @ahnneyong @jammingjaem @paper-boats-rose @iraa567 @errrrrat @kyusqult @suzayaaa @jising-jisang-jisung @soonyoonswoo @nctrawberries @wonbin-truther @sunghoonsgfreal @lotties-readings @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @girlz4jaem @beomgyusonlywife @nanaxwi @nosungluv @tommina @sinisxtea @20sdiary @otblous @p-d1ddy @lostinneocity @soobs-things @odxrilove @buns-inhiding @busy-daydreaming02 @starfilledgaze @papichulomacy @grassbutneo @iwilleatyourgod @jeeluv @mystverse @meowtella

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

I just got bottom surgery and I’ve been having so many horny dreams that I can’t do anything about because my bits are healing.

In the most recent one I was taken by a cult, transformed into a pixie with feathered wings, and teleported to an animal shifter fey court as an offering along with 9 other people who had a similar encounter with a cult.

As it turns out, it was mating season, and our new fey-adjacent biology made us very aware of that fact. One of my fellow captives caught a whiff of the fey lords we were being offered to, who were at present trying to decide who to pick, and immediately went into heat on the spot. We got to watch as a fey lord with a cat like nature transformed, scruffed her with his teeth, and bred her on the spot with little resistance on her end, all too happy to be filled up with cock.

A full on orgy ensued as everyone got horny from watching the pair fuck nasty with no end in sight with more fey going into heat and being claimed as well, and we learned three things: 1. We could go into heat at any time, regardless of what our biology was, but sexual stimulation would make it more likely to happen 2. Being shot full of cum while in heat would have to happen to all of us eventually if we were to truly be claimed by the fey lord who chose us 3. The fey lords were happy to share, especially if their new toy was difficult to satisfy amidst a heat.

I felt my underwear become a total mess that dripped down my thighs at the sight, but thankfully my heat didn’t hit and the disapproving bitchy exterior I exuded meant I was left alone. Unfortunately, my stubbornness also made me the perfect target for the prince of the court, a brute with multiple animal forms to his name that was looking for a stubborn human to break.

From there, several things happened. The fey lords picked their favorites, and each time the court reconvened, more of my fellow captives were seen either pregnant or bouncing blissfully on the cock of their lord while they talked.

Each moment I was with my new lord, he was attempting to get me horny enough to trigger my heat. He couldn’t fuck my hole until I was in heat, but he still fucked my mouth and my thighs, and he slid his prick back and forth over my lubed hole hoping the friction and erotic scenes would trigger my heat. And when he was done, he would make sure I wore his cum for the rest of the day, the sticky sensation making me unable to put him out of my mind.

The feeling of being used did drive me nuts deep down, but I was stubborn. I didn’t want to be claimed, I wanted to go home. So I researched in the lord’s library when he’d finally spent himself trying to induce my heat. I pulled old tomes that detailed the relationship between the human and fey worlds, and the rules that governed them.

Normal rules dictated that humans couldn’t leave once they had fey food and drink—however, I was a fey now. Even if I had no magic of my own I belonged to no one (yet), so I could come and go as a I pleased.

If I could just make it to the border and cross over, the spell would be undone—I’d be human again, and I could return home.

So one day when no one was looking, I took off into the woods. I didn’t trust the wings on my back to not lead me astray, so I sprinted on foot in the direction of the border.

Not long after, I could hear someone in pursuit. I knew it was him—those daily sessions spent rutting into my body made me intimately familiar with all the sounds he and he alone made. And he sounded close.

Knowing I was losing ground, I took a chance and took flight. I was clumsy with my wings, but I knew it was faster than running.

As I began to make up the ground I lost, I heard a mighty bone-chilling roar—it sounded like three beasts rolled into one screeching after me, and it sent a shiver down my spine that pooled in my loins. Still, I managed to put it out of my mind, and I doubled my efforts to get away.

Only when I heard him finally fade into the background of the forest did I stop to rest. I found a small nook under a grand oak tree and made that my refuge.

As I rested, I thought about that roar. I rubbed my thighs together at the thought of that terrifying sound coming from his throat, feeling the cum from when he fucked my thighs earlier today making them stick together. I thought about how I was almost home free, and all the things I wouldn’t miss—no more thick ridged cock fucking into my throat until I was being fed his cum, no more cum coating my stomach and thighs that made my thoughts turn filthy as I went about my day, no more having my hole rutted against with his cock at a torturous pace until I came from that alone and—oh

A wave of heat washed over my body accompanied by a shiver, once again stopping to pool in my loins. Suddenly I was hot all over and couldn’t think of anything but cum shooting into my hole. I humped the ground, seeking friction but finding none of it satisfying until a voice told me to stop.

Instinct took over and I heeded the voice. Instead I stripped bare, found a thick root to hold onto, bent over and spread myself wide, letting my full scent permeate the air in the surrounding forest. I didn’t know why but it felt right, like some hidden instinct in me was satisfied with me presenting myself to whoever decided to breed me first. It kept the heat that was overtaking me bearable, but only slightly.

Suddenly I wished I had stayed at my lord’s estate, knowing I wouldn’t have to wait so long for a cock to sink into me if I had just stayed. I was a slave to my body’s needs, any previous notion of escape dashed in favor of following my instincts.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait too long. I heard a rustling in the bushes, and before I could process what was happening, something had mounted me and was slamming full force into my hole. They set a brutal pace and I couldn’t be happier with it, chanting yes yes yes as the heat finally abated a bit. But just as we were both about to cum, the creature that had set about claiming me was ripped off. I cried at the sudden loss, oblivious to the tearing of flesh and scent of blood behind me, but my cries were shushed by the threatening whispers in my ear:

You belong to me alone, love.

It was my lord

Seconds later he was sinking into me sensually with an audible squelch and setting an even more brutal pace than the creature before him, jaws squeezing around my neck possessively. Just when I thought I was close again, he stopped. I cried, begging him to continue, trying to bounce back against him, but he tightened his claws in my hips and held firm, and his growls at my insubordinance made me still. Then he resumed fucking me, only to stop again just like that as I was getting close three more times.

I was a mess. We’d been going at it for 30 minutes and I still hadn’t cum. I was getting close again, I could feel it, the heat was driving me insane and begging for release—yet, he stopped again, and I began sobbing.

How badly do you want to cum? He asked. What would you do for it?

ANYTHING I rasped, please, I’ll do anything for you

Anything? He repeated. Would you give yourself to me? I nodded vigorously, too desperate to understand what I was giving over, and I could feel his predatory grin on my neck.

It’s a deal he said, pulling all the way out and slamming back in with all his might. He did that again, and again, and again, fast and fluid in a way that made me lose my mind until—

I screamed, finally cumming the biggest orgasm of my life and going limp underneath him. He continued fucking me brutally, milking every aftershock from my body until finally, he slammed all the way in and shot thick ropes of cum deep into me.

I thought we were done, but then I felt something huge at the base of his shaft push into me—a knot. He knotted me, but he still wasn’t done. He kept fucking me, cumming in me four more times and making me cum many times more until his knot finally deflated.

Finally, he pulled out, and a flood of cum poured all over my ass and thighs. I sank to the floor, feeling limp and satisfied.

Was that good pet? He asked

Yes, I said dreamily

Yes what? He responded

Yes, master I replied, nothing else making sense in that moment except for who I belonged to.

—-

I got way too into retelling that but yeah that’s the kind of shit I’m dealing with, I’m a horny mess that keeps having these dreams and I can only get the energy out by writing about it. I’m gonna incorporate this into a longer fic i think

.

[ktaerssoi]

same team, different goal

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

summary: the three weeks leading up to the draft, or the three times you realize caitlin isnt all that bad.

(2k)

week one

march was coming to an end, and Iowa had made it to the elite eight. tomorrow you would play against LSU, and you were a little nervous. your nerves didn't ease up when you were practicing the night before on an empty court.

it was almost ten, but you hadn't eaten or even thought about anything but the game tomorrow until you heard someone enter the gym, and then you weren't alone.

looking up from the ground, you shot the basketball towards the net, your arm stretching out and your feet coming off of the floor for a moment, but to no avail, it hit the backboard and bounced back to you.

"you should ease up your arm, you're too tense to be playing to your full ability." you turn to see caitlin standing by the court's edge, a calculated look on her face. "clark, I really don't need your help, I just need to practice. you're not exactly helping with that by the way."

she put her hands up in defense, "Actually that was exactly what I was doing. Plus, this isn't your gym, I can come in and practice too if I want." and that's what she did. every time she threw the ball you heard a faint swish and turned to see her lazily going to retrieve the basketball. she's some freak of nature really.

"wanna run some defense real quick?" she throws the ball to you, which you catch with an annoyed look. "sure," the tone of your voice would be enough to turn anyone away normally, but caitlin was one to never quit.

you guys had been trying to block the other on and off for about an hour, caitlin having more success than not. "seriously caitlin, I don't get how you just walk in here and play so easy." you guys were over by the benches, getting some water and checking your phones.

she looks up at you, shrugging. "no I mean seriously, if I told you to stand anywhere on the court you could make it. you practice infinite hours and yet your grades almost never falter." you hadn't really realized that you were going on a rant, but you were nothing but amazed by her talent. well maybe a little jealous too.

"wow l/n, I didn't know you were that big of a fan, do you want me to sign a shirt or something?" you would usually be annoyed by a snarky statement like this, but something about the exhaustion of practicing and the smile on her face made you smile a little too.

-

you woke up the next morning feeling less nervous about the game. practicing with caitlin was helpful, even if you swear for the rest of your life that it wasn't. She had told you about herself, in between breaks you guys would talk about what it was like playing basketball growing up.

she was easy to talk to.

you had been warming up for a little, talking to kate and trying to relax, like caitlin said. by half, both teams were tied at 45, and you were trying not to stress. you knew that you had a good team, and you knew that even if we were to fail it wouldn't be the end of the world.

you had a short water break at half, and caitlin came up to you, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "hey just relax, we got this, just get out of your head." you nodded, looking up and her. kate had given you guys an odd look, along with the rest of the team.

once the third quarter started, you were trying to guard angel resse. she was a difficult player to block, but you had managed to stop a few points and by the end of the third quarter Iowa was up by 11.

you could tell caitlin wasn't happy that we were so close to the end of the game and we barely had a lead. "c, just play like you did last night, don't think just play. you're not the best at thinking anyway." she rolled her eyes at your comment but smiled nonetheless.

"That's not what you said last night," she said as the whistle for the fourth quarter blew. your cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, one that you hoped you could play off as a��tough game. you hadn't been put in for the fourth quarter coach opting to put someone else in and give you a break.

"since when have you and caitlin been friends?" you turn to see jada, confusion written on her face. "um, we've always been friends, just, not like good friends." you say, taking a sip of your water. "not "good friends?" you guys fight like there's no tomorrow. something happened and I and kate will find out." you shake your head, a smile on your face as you picture her and kate in old-timey investigater outfits.

"you have fun with that."

the game ends quickly after that, Iowa winning by 7 points. you smiled as you saw the team celebrate on the court, still holding good sportsmanship to LSU (for the most part..), you walked by the other team, high-fiving and telling resse that she's a tough player to block. you guys chat for a little before you say goodbye and walk into the locker room.

"what were you talking to resse about?" you hear caitlin before you see her, but when you do see her she's in the middle of changing out of her jersey into some random shirt. "nothing really, I was just telling her that she played well." you shrugged, walking over to your bag to get changed as well, trying not to stare at anyone.

"yeah, she played well I guess, we still won though." caitlin grabbed her bag in a huff, seeming to be a tad annoyed. "if I didn't know any better I would say you're mad I talked to her," you mumbled, but caitlin still heard.

"I'm not mad I just don't get why you don't treat our team like that, I mean you didn't congratulate any of us and we were the ones who won." caitlin's voice was raised now, you weren't sure where this was coming from but it ticked you off nonetheless.

"fine, you need some praise? good fucking job caitlin, our very own lord and savior." you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag, and walking out to the bus to head back to campus. sitting down in the seat next to kate you were silent, not wanting to talk to anyone.

one thing though was that you most definitely hated caitlin clark.

-

you had gotten to Cleveland earlier that day, you had talked to the UConn team, since you used to play for them it was fun to chat with old teammates and meet the new players. you knew that caitlin and paige were friends, they used to play together and were a great duo. That's why you weren't surprised when she came over and started making her presence known, shutting down the conversation you were having with paige.

"yeah and then she had the audacity-" you were cut off by caitlin, smiling as she walked over and hugged paige. "hey bueckers, you better be ready to lose tomorrow." you glared at her not so subtly, sighing. "clark I was kind of in the middle of talking." she looked down at you, rolling her eyes. "yeah because you always have to talk to the opponents?"

paige had turned away at that point, talking to ice because she knew it was bound to be awkward if she continued standing there. "what is your problem? just because I didn't feed your ego one time im a problem? you need to get a grip." her jaw tightened at your words, you hadn't spoken loud, not wanting to draw too much attention to you guys.

"me? I'm not the one with the issues, you just seem to hate me for no reason at all. seriously, ever since you transferred to Iowa I've been trying to be your friend but you've taken everything I've done as an attack on you. me getting you dinner was not meant to send you into an allergic reaction and get you out of a game!" she hadn't taken into consideration that other people were around and she was talking at a voice level far too loud for the small area you were in.

you had dragged her to a corner, deciding it would be the easiest way to defuse the situation. "okay I'm sorry, you're just good at everything, and it's kind of hard to be friends with someone like that. it makes me feel like I have to prove I'm better which usually doesn't go over well. also, it wasn't even about the allergic reaction I just don't know why you got me dinner. I was fine by myself." caitlin rolls her eyes at your words but nods regardless.

-

you guys had won the game against UConn the next day, and you and caitlin finally working well together and not arguing throughout the game. there was a sort of understanding between the two of you guys now.

week two

you guys had ulitamtily lost the game against NC state, it was close and you guys had played hard. caitlin was anything but happy by the end of it, and not even kate or gabbie could fix it.

"clark, like you said, its not the end of the world. there will always be another game." you had said it to not only help her, but yourself. you weren't exactly pleased with the outcome of the game, none of team had been.

for caitlin it was different, she was going to the draft next week and losimg her lat college game wasn't something she could live with. but she would have to.

even though you hadn't really meant to, you had cheered caitlin up. even if it was only a little bit, her mood had improved and she was able to talk to the team with out an undertone of anger. the ride home wasn't the best trip of your life but you guys had managed to make the best of it for everyone sake.

seeing caitlin sit quietly on the bus made you start thinking about what it wold be like on the team with out her next year. with out her it would be so different, not to mention you were losing a bunch of other great players. but with out caitlin who would you compete with? she wasn't just a teammate, she was a friend, whether you guys were fighting or not you would miss her. plus she was nice to look at.

half way through the trip back to campus you guys had stopped to stretch your legs. when you got back on, you sat next to caitlin before she could put her feet up and block the seat.

"hey c," you smiled at her, and though she didn't show it you could tell that she was okay with you being there. you had looked over at what she was doing on her phone and you saw she was looking at her possible outfits for the draft.

"i like that one." you had pointed to your favorite of the options, a sparkly cropped top with a white button down and a skirt. it would look good on her.

she nodded, and quickly sent a text to her stylist that that was the one she wanted to wear. you had just picked out caitlin clarks wnba draft night outfit.

"i don't know what im going to do next year. i mean, the wnba is going to be great but seriously this team is to good to not miss." caitlin was picking at her fingernails, a bad habit of hers. "even though im on it?" you laughed a little, you knew she hadn't always liked you.

"no i think especially because you're on it. you've really been my number one compeition and with you gone i don't know who's going to keep my ego in check." she smiles at you, and you shake your head. "trust me clark, someone is going to get fed up and humble you."

something about the way she smiled the rest of the way home made you feel good. you really were going to miss her.

week three

it was draft night, and you had been invited along with some other team members to attend for caitlin. she and everyone looked so good, and the outfit you had chosen definitely distracted some people. (you included)

the draft was about to start and caitlin had been standing with you, kate, gabbie, and jada for a while before she finally had to leave. your leg was bouncing with anticipation when the commissioner came on stage with the first pick, but instantly cheers erupted from your group and many others in the room.

you were surprised when caitlin didn't instantly get up and head to the commissioner, instead, she hugged her family, stepped down off the stage to hug you first, and then, kate, jada, and gabbie, and then finally went to the commissioner. that's going to be in an edit.

the night went smoothly after that, you were getting texts from her often, and one of the commentators had pointed out that you both both on your phones. when the cameras panned over to her and you, the crowd cheered and you both waved. you felt your phone buzz a few seconds later with a text from caitlin, "they're watching us 😉" the cameras were still on you, so you flipped your phone showing the camera her message.

-

later that night, at the after party you were talking with Nika when caitlin had excused you both and you walked over to some corner. "hey, you know I was tal-" you were cut off by caitlin's lips on yours. it took you a moment but you kissed back.

what the fuck was happening. 

she pulled away after a second and you looked at her stunned, confusion evident on your face. "um, so like why did you do that?"

her face guys pink, and she looks confused as well. "I, um, i don't know why i did that. i just really wanted to kiss you." you nodded at her admittion, yet still confused.

"i think i've liked you since you transferred. i mean, i just like, i think that's why I've always competed with you, i just wanted to show off. It's why i got mad the other day, sorry about that by the way-" she was the one to get cut off this time as you kissed her again.

pulling away after a few seconds you smiled up at her, taking in your high difference for what seemed like the first time. "you're not all too bad either clark." you gave her one more peck and your smile widened even more if possible. "congrats on getting drafted by the way. I'll have to get you to sign a jersey for me."

CHAT I HATE THIS SO MUCH SOME ONE END ME. no like all jokes aside this is actual dookie. but i finally finished this little side blurb thing so yay!! making brownies rn i will update you on them! thats all chat, once again sos. - kate

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

disclaimer, i cannot write movies, this is just how i want the batman 2 to go

ok

we get a batman fight, dark and gritty but not as much as the batman 1, which then bleeds into some bruce wayne philanthropist stuff, not massively brucie wayne but it's creeping in there and we see that bruce is trying to help rebuild gotham but better ( we see this throughout the movie btw, just little snippets)

and then we see it from a distance, no people, but whisperings about something

anyway, in this endeavour to make gotham better haly's circus comes to gotham and we get shots of bruce in the audience and then the graysons die and we get more shots of the audience including one lingering on a little toddler with black floppy hair and blue eyes

batman appears and comforts dick and that's the last of that

then we cut to bruce trying to do some stuff at WE and he goes out onto a balcony or a rooftop to take a phone call or something (maybe as batman from jim gordon) and then he gets attacked by the assassin, and we don't really see the assassin in full, just a black mass with some gold flashes, and idk how but the assassin gets interrupted and jumps off the roof and bruce is still alive

so he's trying to figure out who or what that was and is looking at it on the bat computer (maybe he got some of it's clothing or something he can track) and gets a ping so goes to investigate and on the way he bumps into this little 9 year old who's on the rooftop of some building (hmmmm i wonder who it is)

it's dick, he's trying to track down the man who killed his parents (you knew this) and bruce is like "nO don't do that it's dangerous" and dick is like "but someone needs to"

anyway bruce takes dick back to the orphanage or wherever he is and has lost the trail for the assassin

this happens multiple times (montage time bois) and we see bruce finding dick on patrol, on rooftops and in dangerous situations and basically his dad senses are tingling and he decides to foster dick, so goes and picks him up and takes him to the manor

note: dick does not know that bruce is batman

anyway, bruce catches dick. trying to sneak out one night and the conversation goes like:

bruce: whatchadoin? dick: finding the man who killed my parents, people like that shouldn't be in the world" bruce: you want to kill him dick: justice bruce: murder isn't justice, it's revenge

he takes dick back to bed and goes out to finally track down the assassin BUT during this he get's a call from alfred going "bruce, dick is missing" so bruce is freaking out bc he's had this child for less than a day and he's lost him until a ransom comes up telling bruce wayne to go to x location

so he does and he himself gets kidnapped but he escapes once he's wher he should be, he suits up (bc he managed to get the suit there, either under his stupid coat or something i'm not good at this)

he finds his way to this arena where dick is being held but he's not tied up or anything, he's just kind of stood there, and there's the assassin, stood there, looking at him through golden goggles (how else would you describe it)

and surrounding them on a higher level are loads of people in black dresses and suits and white masks that resemble barn owls

it's the motherfuckin' court of owls

and bruce is like "i saved bruce wayne, i'm here to take the boy back home" and the person near dick is like "how about we let the boy choose, back to bruce wayne, where you will be paraded around as his community service project, or with us, where we can train you to get justice for your parents deaths, to take his life like he took you parents lives, and also that dude in the weird owl costume is your undead great-great-grandfather" and dick is stood there trying to choose and bruce says "murder isn't justice, it's revenge" and dick has his little lightbulb "omg bruce wayne is batman" moment, flashback to batman being the only person to comfort him at the circus, and he chooses bruce (obviously)

bruce fights the court and wins (badly injured tho) and they go home

we get a short shot of the court still existing like the gray son of gotham will be ours" and then we go to wayne manor, a few weeks later

dick is swinging from a chandelier and bruce calls for him to get down, he does and runs over to bruce and alfred in the sitting room and he's like "can i see it yet?" and bruce takes him to the batcave, dick bounces around before coming back to bruce

and bruce is like "we will find the man who killed your parents and make sure he is put away for life" and dick is like "we?" and bruce is like "yes"

dick takes the oath, which ends with the bruce calling him robin,

credits roll

[googleitlol]

Sorry if my thoughts are all jumbled here. Or if it doesn't make sense. I'm also kinda being vague here cause these are kinda in the beginning stages of forming to proper theories.

But first of all, thanks for answering my question and indulging me.

Also sure I'll share a little bit of my theories here. Once again, you don't have to confirm or deny these. Hell, you don't have to answer this if you don't wanna.

I had a feeling since the title and the dove symbolism kinda went together, there would be at least some surface level nods to it, but now that there's confirmation that there's more reason behind the dove transformation I can kinda go into my little "theory" (more or less speculation). Not really connected to the stories ending too much that I know of buuuuut, I've just been thinking what enlightenment would be for Dove herself since everyone is going through their respective character arcs to achieve enlightenment in the end. I'm also keeping in mind the love symbolism from this creature, even though it's not really symbolism from religion and more so a universal thing across multiple cultures, as a possible significance.

But also, these little teasers with the endings and the one shots here got me (oop here comes more theory and speculation) thinking about what the hell happened. Cause the heavenly court and Buddha don't seem to be the "badguys" in this story. So i kinda figured a 3rd party got Dove separated from the group somehow since everyone else (allegedly) got to stick together. So something really bad definitely happened here, and either Dove is going through some corruption arc or someone else is pulling at some strings here. But nooooow, I'm inclined to believe the latter, if not this 3rd party, causing the corruption arc. These are just things I kinda think about in 2 possible endings. I hope this all makes sense.

I could be waaaaaayyy off though so yeah

Oh, you know I'm gonna answer these! Also, I'm glad you caught onto some of this!

Love is definitely a big part of Dove's character arc, tho it's more of a catalyst for what she has to realize. Dove at the start of the journey isn't really… her own person. Or at least, she wants to change herself to be more like the person who saved her. It's like she thinks there's some moral obligation she has to follow in Guan Yin's steps, and as her relationship with Sun Wukong develops, she starts to question that.

Your other thoughts on what happens near the end… muahahaha…

I've mentioned it in passing so I won't try hiding it, there's another party involved in PoM. They don't get too involved until after the Red Boy arc, which is lowkey why I decided to start posting to AO3 after I finished with those chapters. Everything from the start of PoM to Wukong realizing his feelings can be considered… the first act of my little soap opera. This third party doesn't become more prominent until Act 2.

Technically, the third party has been causing problems since the prologue. They're just chilling cuz one of them doesn't know about the journey yet while his accomplice… she knows about the journey, she just gives less of a fuck. But when they decide to take action, stuff gets fun (stressful and full of agony). I'm excited to get to them, who they are, their backstory and powers, EVERYTHING! UUUGGHHHWVBOJNVUSBDCS I WANNA TALK ABT THEM SO BAD–!

ahem, anyway–

As for your theory about a 'corruption arc'… depending on how I end PoM, Dove may or may not cross a line she wouldn't have crossed at the start of the pilgrimage. The fun part is, the ending I consider the 'good ending', the one where she doesn't get separated from her friends and loved ones… is where she crosses that line. If Dove kept trying to be like Guan Yin, she would never think of going down that road. So in that good ending where she stops trying to be someone she's not, and the ones who helped her get to that realization are put in jeopardy… she has no hesitation.

[audrey-carr1]

The Baroness makes house calls (Part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You are an unmarried, educated, wealthy orphan who develops a relationship with the lady across the way in Woodstone Manor.

A/N: More Hetty x reader I'm pulling from the drafts! This is unrelated to the first one I posted. Also Hetty is alive in this one! This more than likely won't be more than a couple of one-shots tied together. Who knows lol.

warnings: fem!reader, eventual smut,

At the age of twenty-three, you had received news that your parents were lost at sea and presumably passed on.

At twenty-four, you became known as the orphan heiress. Though you were well educated, thanks to the insistence of your mother, your single nature left you with gentlemen throwing themselves left and right for a chance at your fortune.

At twenty-five you became a spinster and planned to stay that way. Men who tried to court you have been found to con artists, or just full of boredom. You never felt that spark you often heard your married friends talk about. You had given up on finding love, and have become fond of being alone. No obligations of a husband or children left you freer than most women your age. Your time is spent on afternoon walks seeking solitude in nature. You enjoyed the sound of the birds chirping and babbling in the nearby spring as it fed into the lake. You were always alone on your walks at least until you turned twenty-six.

At the age of twenty-six, you find yourself enjoying the company of your new neighbors, the Woodstones. Well, you enjoy the company of Hetty, her husband Elias was never truly around. Hetty was like no one you met before. She was smart, funny, and very quick-witted. The two of you often find yourselves talking until the wee hours of the morning. It became so common that you both have respect bedrooms in each other’s house. Your visits are more frequent as her children are school-aged, and have been sent away for their schooling. “The best that money has to offer,” Hetty always says before a titter of laughter.

You love Hetty’s laugh, it’s the sweetest music you have ever heard and you try to make her laugh as much as you can. Deep down you sense a sadness in Hetty, and you feel an unnerving sense of duty to remove that sadness from her.

Hetty offers her guidance to you whenever she sees fit. Though a woman, Hetty has an impeccable eye for business procedures. If she were a man Hetty would no doubt be more successful than any man you have come into contact with. Hetty helps you balance your books, pick good staffing, and even buys you a telephone. You never understood why as the two of you talked every day in person. Hetty says a young woman of such status as mine should have something to gloat to her friends about.

Hetty would never admit that she got the phone to check up on you when you had fallen ill, and needed to hear your voice to assure you were recovering. A month ago you had fallen ill, and Hetty was beside herself with worry not being able to see or speak to you. Your staff often informed you that Hetty was downstairs keeping the house in running order and asking about your recovery. She had even sent a couple of doctors away who did not help you to recover any sooner. By day 3 of your illness, you were on your 5th doctor. Hetty’s reach knows no bounds or expense. She wanted the best for you even if you were barely coherent to acknowledge the gesture.

On day 4 of your illness, a telephone was installed in your bedroom. It was the middle of the night when you woke to an insistent ringing that did nothing to help the pounding you felt in your head as you reached to pick up the receiver.

“Devereaux residence,” you answer

“(Y/n)” Hetty sighs on the other end

“Hetty! Oh how I have missed the sound of your voice,” you immediately perk up sitting up in bed.

“And I, yours,” Hetty spoke softly into the phone.

“I feel absolutely, positively dreadful, Hetty,” You sniffle wiping your nose on a nearby handkerchief.

“I know my darling, the doctor says you have influenza,” Hetty explains. The term of endearment slips, and Hetty hopes you don't mind let alone notice.

“How wonderful,” you say as you move the phone away from your face to cough, “I miss you Hetty.”

You did not mean to sound so needy, but you blame it on the fever and hope Hetty would too.

“I miss you terribly as well. I’m sure your staff will be happy to be rid of me once you’re recovered,”

This makes you laugh, and you smile for the first time in days. “Well I’m sure your staff must be happy to have you away from home,”

“While the cat’s away the mice will play. Do you know Molly has barely dusted the house while I’ve been gone?”

You laugh once more as Hetty goes on to explain the ongoings of what you’ve missed while bedridden. You try to stay awake, but the medicine you took earlier is beginning to take hold again. You fall asleep again to the sound of Hetty’s voice leaving the phone next to your ear on the pillow.

Hetty notices that you have gone silent, and for a fraction begins to worry before she hears your soft snoring. The two of you must have gotten caught up in the excitement of finally being able to talk to each other after almost a week. Hetty begins to scold herself for such behavior but can’t help the warmth she feels after speaking with you.

“Sleep well my darling,” Hetty says before hanging up the phone and retiring to bed herself.

-End-

A/N: See you in part two!

[farawaysoph-ie]

The Sunshine Court Incoherent Whatever (pt.1)

Okay. Okay.

I just finished The Sunshine Court and 1) Jean Moreau what have you done to me? 2) Jean Moreau what have(n't) they done to you?

I started this, then went and re-read tkm (bc the obsession was always latent and never gone), so I could compare both Neil and Jean pov and well, suffice to say I'm not okay and I feel too much.

Thank you Nora Sakavic, it was painful and amazing.

I have a long train ride so I might as well bring back my incoherent whatever after *checks the notes* 4 years :')

As always this will be so full of spoilers.

(Unrelated spoiler: the train ride wasn't enough)

Let's start with the general:

After loving Neil maybe too much the shift to Jean took awhile to adjust to but now I'm ready to fight at least three mafia families, every single hater (fictional or otherwise) and the FBI for him

Jeremy Knox was everything, but like everyone on here, what are you hiding Jeremy?? What's going on??

Cat and Laila, my beloved ™️ the care these two effortlessly gave made me cry

This whole book was a serious trigger for me, but I'm in too deep with this series, imagine me like that Simpsons meme, I did it for my new french son

Characters, thoughts:

I said before the Ravens were a cult, but I hadn't really understood that statement. Every time Jean spoke of them it hit deeper and deeper how messed up and unfair it all was.

Boy am I happy that Riko is dead, like I didn't really wish anyone the fate of being shot by an unfeeling older brother, until Jean's pov hit me like a high speed train.

Andrew spoke exactly one word in this, still was iconic and a scene stealer, how in character for him

I forgot how much I always want to slap Kevin Day when he's trying his best to be annoying, it's because I love him, I swear! (But seriously his relationship with Jean is so complex and well executed I will think about it for a very long while)

I didn't give much thought to Renee and Jean relationship in tkm, but it broke my heart here, it's when I started to actually tear up, I love them so much rainbows, a cool evening breeze. I can't.

"Tell me something"

"Where are you now?"

The whole dynamic of the Cat&Laila& sometimesJeremy's apartment

Cat teaching Jean how to cook + motorbike ride (open roads)

Laila taking him to shopping

Jeremy wanting to make Jean Moreau the Person his success story

Neil dragging Jean towards survival without giving him a choice, again and again: he sent Renee as gentle bait, closed a deal in his name with a mafia boss, promised him he would win against Riko in his name too, promised him again Riko was dead, ordered a hit on his rapist, offered to delay the talk with the FBI, linked his sister to his name, to survival and to what he deserved. I NEED more interactions between them, I am not above begging.

I have to get a better idea on the other Trojans, but for now the policule was cute, I need more Cody and less Lucas. Like I can understand where he was coming from? But he needs to shut up now, you made your mess man, now go play Exy like you were supposed to.

I miss the Foxes :'(

Wymack! I almost forgot everyone's favourite dad-coach: he showed up, brought alcohol, got more tired, delivered care to yet another traumatized child, spent a whole day on airplanes to bring him to Los Angeles, left him money for clothes&co. bc he's not doing this again, answered his call when he was having The Breakdown. Best dad-coach ever in the history of dad-coaches.

Plot things:

Jean at the beginning was so scared and in so much pain it took a while to get a clear picture of him as a person

Still loved all his salty comments and insults, he couldn't help himself

Renee sitting with him and caring with Abby and Wymack :')

Jean being afraid of going back and of not going back to Evermore, hating the ones that got to leave

The self harm and all the people in this that fought him to keep his hands from his neck, his scars, himself

"I am Jean Moreau. My place is at Evermore. I will endure."

Jean not believing in Wymack care, waiting for the act to end and the other shoe to drop

The disbelief at Kevin being away from the court and him admitting he went at knifepoint (and meaning it literally), sometimes this was a comedy

Wymack, Jean, and the burning of houses

Jean's opinion of the Foxes going from those mediocre fools to those mediocre madmen to the madmen that actually beat Riko Moriyama

Wymack putting Jean's phone in the freezer and hating computers

“That man is years overdue for a high-speed, head-on collision.” couldn't have said it better, but Neil was already on it at that point

"Jean knew better than to look for anger in his stare; the best Kevin could manage was bottomless guilt."

“It was my only chance,” Kevin said. “I knew you wouldn’t come with me.” “My place is at Evermore,” Jean agreed, “but you did not have to slit my throat on the way out.”

“Your blind loyalty to those clowns is exhausting.” “Some of them you like,” Kevin reminded him. “Don’t you dare,”

Nathaniel "Hello Jean" Wesninski vs Jean "Go away" Moreau

This whole conversation went very differently compared to tkm: like there Neil came, dropped a metaphorical bomb, glossed over the explanation and went away trying to convince Andrew they are something

Jean was ambushed by two of his most complicated acquaintances (???) and their "pet goalkeeper" (god I need Andrew's reaction to this "nickname", but I guess no one will ever say this to his face, Neil would be too busy fighting you at the suggestion to ever repeat it), had his worldwiew turned upside down with no chance of having a say in the matter, then was left alone with Kevin Day and the aftermath.

So yes two different conversation; also I kinda forgot of the deal about Neil and his smile

“Everyone who has tried to tame him has failed.”

All for the game: a summary

There was no getting away; there was only getting through.

Jean Moreau who (hasn't) hurt you, part some of too many

What really makes it messed up is that on one hand there was Riko and his mad cruelty and on the other there was an entire team of bystanders At Best: some people were an active part and then pretended, no sympathy for them; others decided to ignore the truth to survive and get what they wanted, which I can understand but I guess they still didn't have the decency to shut up when Jean got away. The anger that crawled through my skin when the smear campaign and the notebook/postcards/magnets thing happened. You should have stayed silent until the end you fucks.

“Do it, then. It wouldn’t take much; we all know I have brittle bones.”

Jeremy pov kinda gave you whiplash, with him waking up super early, helping homeless men, but then you start noticing all the things he avoids almost effortlessly and like, what are you hiding sunshine man??

What actually broke me about his povs was him noticing all these details about Jean, and then misinterpreting them, bc whatever he's been through Jean has had it 100 times worse and this doesn't even factor in Jeremy world. I'm pretty sure he'll get the whole truth in the end and I'm scared of what it'll do to him.

Also Jean being like Ravens always had to keep secrets and then spilling most of them almost unprompted, let's laugh in order not to cry

“He hasn’t played a clean game in years,” Kevin admitted, “but he knows how to follow orders. If you tell him to submit, he will.” “Literally the most awkward way you could’ve worded it,” Jeremy said.

This will keep coming back, Kevin please. (He 100% ships it, one of us)

The Foxes catching the too tired Trojans and Jeremy being like, you are all approved (I need the two teams to interact now)

Also the Trojans being like how are they still standing, Neil how are you still running??

Someone pointed out they wanted Neil to interact with Jeans closest teammates bc if he is a madman by Jean standards, what would normal people make of him? To which yes, but also guys consider this: Neil said to Cat and Laila that they were terrifying after the semifinal, he took a step back when Jeremy opened the door and silently invited him in. I need Neil and the floozies to interact so Neil can experience real fear.

Mafia bosses have nothing on wholesome people, the true weakness of one Neil Josten

Jean immediately hanging up on Jeremy will never not be funny

When you get to the title of the book and it's Jean insulting people <3

I will Never, NEVER, get over the "nineteen". Never.

I love Abby but when she told that bit about fighting back, It Hurt. She probably didn't really mean it and didn't know everything bc how are you supposed to keep fighting when you are fifteen, alone and forsaken in a place that is built to break you? As it has been pointed out, Neil had rebellion beaten into him by a mother that chose him and ran; Jean had a sister that he hoped to protect and parents that sold him away like property. Five months were actually a long time.

Dobson keeps being iconic, I don't know what to think about the I don't know how exy works bit: I mean I've been obsessing with this and still don't know how exy works (plz don't hate me), but at the same time it was such a power move and got Jean to talk

“Of course it’d be you, you tedious malcontent.” “Good morning to you, too.” Nathaniel held up an oversized bandage.

You see why I need more of their interactions, right?

Nathaniel was different; he always would be. He wasn’t a Raven, but he was, same as Jean. He was Jean’s misplaced forever partner, an unfulfilled promise Jean had stopped believing in years ago.

You can now be forever partners while you tear down your families :)

I think that I'm stuck on the two of them bc while Kevin broke a promise to save himself (to which no hate, when dealing with madmen like Riko you have to save yourself) and still couldn't, not completely, Neil was a promise made and broken by other people. Jean hates him bc they were supposed to share a destiny and all the misery, but I think very deep down he knows that if Nathaniel had come to the Nest they would still be nursing wounds and appeasing a tyrant. Neil is the one that stood against Riko when Kevin wanted to hide, the one that gave him courage by example, the one that dragged Jean away from the Ravens, both for selfish reasons (taking down Riko) and better ones (paying him back for saving his life a the Nest).

But still

“You are only here now because you are an abominable cockroach,”

Funny how Neil forgot to tell us about the breakdown about Kevin's tattoo, he was probably thinking about the match. Junkie.

The cheese drawer guys, ???

To this day I still can't decide what was more iconic: Kevin Day switching playing hand halfway through the game and pretty much scoring everything until the last second, Neil being so fast that it made up for him being a shitty defender, Andrew crossing the court to keep Neil from being murdered (I'm biased, but still iconic moments all of them)

Experiencing this match from Jean's pov was amazing writing, like the countdown of the last ten seconds, the Riko-Neil bit without volume but from a different angle (I didn't really realize everyone was able to see the King attempting murder live on TV, but hey perspective)

Run, Jean thought. He didn't know if he was thinking it at Andrew or Nathaniel. Run.

"That wasn't a miracle," Jean typed out. "That was the Foxes."

:')

When Jean found about Riko though :'(

The shudder that wracked his chest should have been revulsion, but it fell dangerously short. This didn't feel like joy or relief; it only felt like loss. [...] Who was he without them?"

I loved that he woke up to Renee and Neil though, the rainbow and the witness

Renee always hitting the point, this wonderful girl

"Maybe you're mourning the wreckage he made of your life. You're allowed to grieve what he took from you."

"It's impressive, isn't it? How easily these monsters die in the end."

Neil Abram Josten said I'm done letting monsters ruin my life and my people, he actually promised.

When he called him Neil guys, tears

Also I found peculiar that when thinking about the room he destroyed Jean calls it "Neil's dorm room", not Kevin's who he's known for actually longer. It's what makes me think that they have a chance at not being misplaced forever anymore.

Renee either hits you with hidden wisdom of the universe or with practical and brutal advice, and we love her for that

The two of them, the Two Of THEEEEEEEEM

Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other's gravity, in each other's space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long.

Just leaving this here.

The airport bit :'(

"Men like Wymack didn't exist. They couldn't; they shouldn't."

Enter Jeremy Knox and his yo-yo in the middle of said airport. Flawless.

This man was put on Earth to test Jean, at least that's what he will keep thinking from here on

The rest of this book is Jean having conversations with people and not understanding them, bc he's been living for five (seven) years in a cult. It is an escalation pretty painful to watch, I think the Trojans are all of us :'(

Question: will Jean end up teaching Jeremy French? Will Jeremy learn by himself? I think I'd probably prefer the latter

Cat, the mess, the music, the tour, I love her so much

Jeremy "he's a little off" Knox, he was trying

Barkbark von Barkenstein

Jean Moreau and the real world (bubble tea? you have to shop for stuff? you sign things yourself? you leave campus? someone help this disoriented french bean)

"Something had gone horribly wrong at Evermore"

oh Jeremy

Watching Jeremy regret almost all his questions :'(

“Three fractured ribs. Sprained LCL. Twisted ankle. Broken nose. That’s most of it.” That’s most of it.

Laila, who pushed and got angry for Jean and didn't back down despite him lashing out, my beloved

You look like a Ken doll." + "This isn't blond."

"Not Grayson.[...] Please." that one made me sick, the writing made me feel even only a part of what Jean was feeling and it was enough to feel sick

The water :'(

Jean just leaving when confronted with Laila and Jeremy in swimsuits was very bi of him

Lucas coming in looking like a well know nightmare and the Ravens dropping like flies

I didn't ask.

It's not like I didn't know, right? But I still died inside

Zane and the betrayal

Jeremy didn’t let him get away with it. “That’s not the issue and you know it. I don’t want to crowd you.” “You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

Jean taking one look at the doctor sent by the coaches and going nope, Dobson will be definitely better

Jeremy seeing the nightmares and the scars and not being able to do much:(

A hand on his chin startled him into looking up. When he met Jean’s eyes, Jean only said, “Focus on what’s important.” “I am,” Jeremy said. Jean opened his mouth, closed it again, and let go of Jeremy without a word. Jeremy snagged his arm when he started to turn away. “Who did this to you?”

I'm sorry did he just

“It’s not about size, anyway.” “Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

“Say ‘yes, Jeremy’.” He had the distinct impression Jean wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes, Jeremy.” Jeremy forgot everything else he could have said in favor of staring. It was the first time he’d heard Jean say his name.

Are you seeing this? Yes? Good, let's go on

“If I ever make you uncomfortable or make you feel unsafe, will you promise to tell me? If you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong and why, at least trust me enough to tell me that something is wrong. I can’t fix things if I don’t know there’s a problem. As your captain and your partner, don’t I at least deserve the chance to not be a villain in your story?”

The pool bit :'( and after when they tell there are no pools at Evermore. Riko is so lucky to already be dead :)

You’re forcing us to hurt you without giving us any say in the matter.”

Watching Jean trying to navigate his interactions with the Trojans was painful, frustrating but also hopeful. This boy has been hurt so much and so often, he doesn't get what normal looks like anymore. But the Trojans don't let him get away with it (even if it breaks their heart and the coaches will probably get a lot of grey hair from this)

"Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.” “You are naïve.” “Maybe you’ll define success by how we do this season, but I’m not obligated to do the same. You are going to be my success story: Jean Moreau the person, not Jean Moreau of the perfect Court. You take care of one, and I’ll take care of the other.” “That is not how it works.” “Is there a rule against it?” “There is no merit to it. This is all I am.” Jeremy ignored that and asked again, “Is there a rule against it?”

Jeremy gay panicking and the photo of Renee

The floozy line!

Every time Jeremy goes "our coaches" or "our teammates" all I can think in my head is "someone will die" "of fun!!!!"

Jean wondering if the Trojans have something against recruiting tall players xD

“Thank you for worrying about them. You’re a good man, Jean Moreau.” “A ridiculous sentiment,” he said. “I mean it,”

This man didn't even second guess himself, he had to ask because he knew and it didn't even occur to him to be silent. Excuse me sir? Shut up you are a good man

“I assumed the Trojans were idiots,” Jean said. “Now I think you are all insane.” “It’s a step up,” Cody said. “I’ll take it.”

The practices, the scars pt2

“It is all I am, Coach.”

“We did not want outsiders at Evermore.” “Except Neil,” Cat said. “Neil was a special case,” Jean allowed.

#accurate

You’re hurting me.” “It has been toward for five years,” Jean said, looking past Jeremy at the scrimmage that was still going on without them. “It is not that easy to undo.” Jeremy frowned at him and echoed, “Five? You were only with the Ravens for three.” “I moved into Evermore two years before I enrolled,” Jean said, and hauled Jeremy to one side. The stray ball that had been coming for them ricocheted off his chest instead of Jeremy’s back, and Jean scooped it up on the rebound with a quick snap of his wrist. He hurled it across the court toward Cody one-handed before finally letting go of Jeremy. “I will try harder.”

The notebooks breakdown hurt so bad bc Cat and Laila being angry for him (they are all of us), Jeremy trying to mediate bc he's been there, he pushed and Jean broke and he doesn't want to hurt him, and Jean who confesses his secrets without meaning to, just to realize and panic. What a recipe for a disaster.

“How dare they blame you for anything after what they did to you. How dare you grieve them.” It hit like a sucker punch, but Jean’s frustrated rejoinder was worse: “They don’t know.”

They don't know, but they could guess. They could smell the blood. They joked about his brittle bones. He was sixteen. I'm not sorry for the mercy I don't have after finishing this book

Jeremy could only watch in wretched silence as Jean tried to walk himself back from the edge. He cast his phone aside in favor of catching Jean’s face in his hands, and the way Jean flinched at his touch was almost his undoing. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey. Jean. Look at me.” Jean refused, and Jeremy grasped desperately for anything that could bring Jean back to him. He seized on the only thing he could and threw Jean’s words back at him: “You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.” It wouldn’t work, but it did. Jean opened his eyes to meet Jeremy’s stare. “I told you not to ask me about him.”

I had seen the quote before reading but no one told me what followed ç.ç

He felt a tremor in Jean’s hands, and for a blinding moment he was sure Jean would lean into the safety of this silent confession. But Jean only sucked in a slow breath and said, “Now I am not safe with you, captain.” Letting go of Jean was the hardest thing Jeremy had ever done. Everything in him railed against this, and for a moment he regretted giving Jean a way out.

I was not crying, I swear.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, because he didn’t have the strength for small talk or a softer approach right now. “Did Riko break your hand?”

That was one heavy conversation and it's just the start (Jeremy is Not Fine™️)

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” “I will wait as long as it takes,” Jeremy said.

Still best boy

And maybe in many ways he still was, but a martyr could still be a monster when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Boy do I have news for you (do you think Jeremy will know that Riko didn't kill himself? Does it matter? I think not knowing this particular detail would be fine, I still don't really know how much this sunshine boy can take (more than I expected but still))

Did I mention that I really love the apartment trio? Cat and Laila agreeing to silence but still being angry (drag them girls, draaaaag them), the dinner and movie and Jean not getting up to leave

Did I mention Lucas is free to shut up and play? :) Because I get that you are angry, but 1) it's not your decision to make, we don't need your conspiracy theories 2) it's not Jean problem, he has enough of them leave him alone

“Ask him why he’s so sure the rumors are true. Ask him what his part in it was. If you’re going to believe him just because he’s blood, then at least make him tell you the truth.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas demanded.

And Jean still deciding not to lie, he may be an asshole but almost everyone he has known didn't deserve him

Also I don't know where Lucas got the audacity? You think there is something the justifies breaking a player's ribs?? What is wrong with you, you are part of the sunshine court

The dread when asking if Grayson was home

The bike ride :')

Now that they were settled, he expected an interrogation or a reason for this unscheduled trip out. When she failed to explain herself, Jean finally asked, “Why are we here?” “I love it here,” [...] “I don’t know. I just felt like some fresh air would do you good. There’s nothing like a ride to get you out of your head and into the moment, you know?” Jean considered that for a minute. “Thank you.”

Jean waited until he was out of earshot. “I don’t understand.” “Trust us,” Jeremy said tiredly. “Neither do we.”

Jean vs the Trojans, a summary

The monster shows up and it was a mess and Jean has never had a break, literally never

Which was extremely literal bc Lucas wanted to talk and then Neil shows up

I need a separate post for the last pages bc I started this 24 h ago and I want to do it justice. So part 2 coming.

Edit: I misspelled Jean's surname *facepalms and goes to hide*

[yacinthemorning]

Birdsongs

Chapter 6

[first] [prev] [next]

Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, peer pressure, mild homophobia, bar fight, life crisis, anxiety, dancing

It was just after seven that they all walked down to The Mineshaft Pub, the favoured locale for dancing according to a woman in town. The decor was western, with the walls covered in historical pictures of the old miners that used to frequent it. Not the place to find anything fancier than a rum and coke.

It was surprisingly packed for a week night, though half the patrons were vaguely familiar. The second they entered the bar there was a shout in their direction, and Scott’s face lit up. A large woman pushed through the crowd, a lanky man on her tail, in neon everything like they expected a rave rather than Tim McGraw. “Scott, dear! You made it!”

“Cleo! Joe! I thought we were ahead of you.” He laughed, happily accepting a hug which quickly continued on to Pearl. Scott vaguely turned to the rest of them. “This is my band. Lizzie, Joel, Jimmy, this is Cleo and Joe from HHH.”

“And those are my guys,” Pearl threw her thumb over her shoulder to the rest, “Gem, Impulse, Skizz, and Tango.”

“A Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Joe bowed like he was in a medieval court, which contrasted greatly with his thick southern accent. Gem giggled. “I didn’t happen to catch your bands playing a the last venue, but I hope fate is kinder to us at the next.”

“I think I heard a bit of you guys!” Intruded Skizz, pushing past Scott in his excitement. “You guys have crazy range, real interesting mix of folk and disco you got going! Especially with your poetry.”

It sounded like a horrendous mash-up to Jimmy, not even able to picture how it came together in his mind. Until he heard it himself, he’d just have to trust the event organizers’ tastes. The three groups exchanged a few more pleasantries, Scott and Pearl slowly drifting to Cleo’s side. Then, both were being beckoned away with promise of free food and dancing. “Watch your drinking, Jim. You know how you get.” Scott called before they disappeared into the crowd.

Jimmy huffed. Well, that was two less people to pay for, at least. Fwhip shrugged, and waved down a waitress as they found a pair of tables, “We’ll see them later. For now, lets get some wings and beer.”

“I think I’ll just have a coke.” Jimmy murmured while he slipped his guitar onto the back of his chair. He read through the tiny menu, only for it to be snatched away from him. “Hey!”

“Nuh-uh. C’mon, Jim, you’re a big boy now. We ain’t smokin’, it’s just a drink.” His manager insisted, ordering full pitchers of whatever beer was on tap for the whole table immediately along with the wings platter. “Joel can be our good little sober boy today.”

The man’s head shot up off the table immediately, “Uh, excuse me? I need at least two mugs of pisswater before I’m touching that dance floor, and Lizzie isn’t gonna let me not dance.”

“It’s fine, Fwhip, really.” Jimmy tried to insist. Some of GIST were looking at their table with concern. Tango’s brow knit behind his bright red sunglasses. He could feel his ears get hot, shrinking in on himself. “I’d rather do it then risk no one.”

Fwhip wasn’t going to take no for an answer, though. Not tonight. “You’re only saying that cause you’re still embarrassed about how you acted at Sausage Fest after downing those seven mojitos.” He teased, and god were those memories Jimmy would rather forget.

A mug slammed down in front of him, and the biggest pitcher Jimmy had ever seen saddled up beside it, Fwhip’s shit-eating grin distorted through the ruddy liquid. Jimmy glared right back, but eventually he gave in. If only to stop a scene. “Just one glass.”

“Hell yeah!” Fwhip cheered, stealing the pitcher away to fill all their glasses before holding his own up in cheer. “Grown ups table only today, men- and lady,” He winked at Lizzie, who stuck her tongue out. “Here’s to that amazing performance, and all the amazing performances to come!” Their glasses clinked, separating for Joel and Fwhip to almost instantly chug half their glasses. Lizzie took a much more modest sip. Jimmy swirled the glass for a moment, bringing it to his lips when Fwhip and Joel put their glasses down. He’s not sure he got more than a taste of the foam, but he pulled the same sour face the rest of his band did.

“I didn’t mean literal pisswater, jeez.” Joel coughed, but took another swig anyways. It certainly smelled bad enough to be true. There was probably nothing fruity on the menu to mask the alcohol in a bar like this.

Skizz held up his glass, shouting over almost the whole bar, “That’s the taste of freedom, my friend!”

“From what? Regulation?” Tango snickered.

“From modernity! Civility! Authority!”

Gem rolled her eyes. “Sooo, yes.”

“Hey! This is a sacred place of debauchery and hedonism! Feast upon the grapes of whatever and dance till the sun rises upon us! Let us make our great father Dionysus proud!”

Both tables clapped, GIST shaking their head in amusement. Wings soon arrived, though, and they all dug in. Jimmy nursed his drink at a snail’s pace, hoping Fwhip would simply think he was hungrier than he was thirsty. It got a bit more difficult when Lizzie dragged Joel to the dance floor when a song she like came on, dinner be damned.

There was a few minutes when a man, another band’s manager apparently, passed by, and Fwhip spun around to chatter with the man. Someone tapped on his shoulder at that moment. Jimmy spun around to see Tango holding out his mug, near empty except the foam slowly sliding to pool at the bottom. It took him a moment before he realized what was happening, and grabbed his own mug. The transfer was far from smooth, slopping onto the floor a bit. When Jimmy’s mug was mostly empty Tango pulled it back with a mischievous grin and a wink before bringing the mug up to his own lips. Jimmy returned it with the same smile and turned back to his table. Behind him, he heard Tango wretch. He tried not to laugh.

-

It was a little over an hour into the night. Most tables were cleared of real food, replaced with glasses of various substances, and the air had become thick despite the no smoking signs. Tango was having a lovely time shouting with his friends when one song ended and a mic came on. Gem shrieked with glee, “Oh my god, guys! Come one, come on!” She dragged Impulse out of his chair, abandoning their table for the dance floor while one of the bar tenders tried to get the place pumped up for a line dance.

They nearly crashed into Scott and Pearl, who were already rosy-cheeked and giggling nonstop alongside Cleo. The three were linked hand-in-hand, pushing to the front of the group at Pearl’s insistence. It’d been a while since Tango had seen her let go and have fun. Not that she wasn’t always a joy, but... Well. Tango was still convinced waking up at five am to work for a band that had never once taken the gig seriously was crazy people actions.

He knew in the grand scheme of things it was for her career. GIST was her first foray into management and they weren’t going to be around much longer. Pearl was destined to move on to bigger and brighter bands, and he had all the confidence in the world she would with how brilliant and hard working she was. He just wished she took the chance to let loose while she still could. And the fact Scott and this Cleo person were able to get her to was enough to put them in Tango’s good books.

Joel and Lizzie were at the far end where they were previously dancing alone, and Fwhip dragged Jimmy into line right behind GIST despite his protests of leaving his guitar alone. The bar tender was up on a small stage, and began demonstrating the moves. Half of them hadn’t realized they were starting already, causing gem and Skizz to smack into the other two. Eventually after many bumps and giggles the whole crowd was on the same page doing the cupid shuffle. Skizz was the first to wrap his arms around Tango and Gem’s shoulders, until all four were linked, at least until they were asked to turn. It switched up to the cha cha slide, at which point Tango lost all coordination, much to his band’s amusement and their neighbour’s bemusement.

By the end they were all cheering and out of breath, Impulse being the first to retreat back to their table, Fwhip not far behind. Skizz swept Gem back over to the dance floor where Lizzie was happily dragging around Joel. Cleo, Pearl, and Scott tried to navigate into the crowd but nearly fell into a cackling heap with how drunk they’d gotten, and chose to bow out for the time being. Tango was in the middle of contemplating whether to do the same when a bright eyed face invaded his vision.

“You’re not throwing in the towel already are you?” He said with amusement.

It was almost wrong, to see Jimmy sans guitar on his back. His face was flush, not drunk on alcohol but some sort of adrenaline. His hair had fallen out of how he’d had it styled, sticking slightly to his forehead and up where a hand had been run through it. The sweetest smile stretched across his face, a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. There was a stain on his cream button up, presumably from the hot wings, which Tango desperately wanted to point out just to say something instead of staring like a brainless goldfish. Before he could have the chance to say anything he was being pulled over to the centre of the dance floor.

“You know how to dance without instructions, I hope.” Jimmy laughed as they came to a halt.

Tango crashed right into him. Taking a moment for his brain to restart he put on the cockiest grin he could muster and confidently informed the men, “Pssh, I’ll have you know I’m an expert.”

“Oh yeah?” They’d began to sway with the crowd, nothing specific.

“In fact I’ve take a whole half a dance class before.” He did an awkward exaggerated jig for emphasis, which got a laugh.

“Oh, please tell me it was-”

“The tango? How’d you know?”

Jimmy cackle-cheered so hard he had to stop dancing for a moment to recover. When he calmed he reached out for Tango’s hands and they turned with the rest of the crowd, finally adding a few little cowboy steps to their swaying.

In truth, the sum total of Tango’s former dance experience mostly involved swaying cross-legged in the mud high out of his mind, headbanging in in a pit, and the macarena at a wedding. That hardly mattered now, especially when Jimmy just as uncoordinated. Whatever dance they were doing involved at lease one person’s foot on the others with each step and a lot of giggling. Tango was beginning to wonder if Jimmy had slipped away to grab his own drink at some point or inhaled a bit too much of the smoke, but his eyes were too focused for that. No, he really was just absolutely delighted to be moving around in the crowd, singing suspiciously well alongside Shania Twain. It was absolutely...

Well, Tango tried not to think too hard about what it was. Especially not when his gaze momentarily slipped away to avoid going blind and instead landed on Lizzie, who was giving him a knowing look. He couldn’t tell what emotion it was on her face, only able to presume she was still mad at him. A suggestion was on the tip of his tongue as the last stomping beat of Any Man of Mine played. Out of guilt or nerves. But he felt Jimmy back away with another airy sort of sound and he was dragged back in. He beamed, “Wanna go sit and grab a drink?”

They wound up at the bar rather than with their friends, where Jimmy could order a coke in peace while Tango could grab a nice whisky instead of more Molson. Jimmy was still giddy, his heel bouncing on the stool as he smiled down into his drink. He glanced over, though, to Tango’s glass. “Can I try?”

Tango slid it over, “S’bout as good as reasonably priced whisky gets.”

Jimmy rolled it a bit, took a sniff, then a sip. His nose wrinkled a bit before he passed it back. “Yeah think I’ll stick with mine.”

“Not for everyone.” Tango concedes.

“I just don’t like the taste much, or the feeling.” He brushes his chest, chewing on his lip and side eyeing Tango. “Just not...”

Ah. He shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself, partner.”

“No, I guess I don’t. Not to you.” Jimmy smiled, then took a sip of his coke.

“So, you like to dance?” Tango said, approximately as smooth as a cactus made of sandpaper covered in barnacles.

Jimmy by some miracle didn’t notice, and lit up once more as he went on a tale of childhood fairs and forced square dancing lessons and learning that dancing could actually be fun after years of spiteful refusal to ever perform again. It devolved into another story, and another. The bar tender was happy to slip yet another glass in front of Tango after each one.

Their chatter was only interrupted by Joel, who practically screeched across the bar from the stage, calling for his ‘babe’ which was apparently not Lizzie. Jimmy laughed and screeched back, back to full energy, and darted away back to his table to grab his guitar. They quickly took over the bar’s attention as they both began wailing away with the song, Jimmy strumming scratchy notes on his guitar. Some shouted, some cheered. Tango watched with great amusement, entirely missing when the seat next to him became reoccupied.

“Having fun?”

Tango’s head spun around. Lizzie was staring into Jimmy’s empty glass. He cleared his throat and swivelled back around. “Think so. You?”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence befell them, a not very silent one given the screaming and music and thudding and clinking. It all sounded like a distant whisper right now.

Lizzie huffed, and looked up, “Look, Tango. I’m not sorry about earlier.”

“Oookay.” He quirked an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought she was, but it seemed rude to come and say to his face.

“I’m not.” She insisted looking frustrated. “But I guess I can’t exactly tell you to not speak to my brother when he’s the one speaking to you. So, I’ve decided to call truce.”

“Thanks? I think.”

The silence was back. Lizzie chose to ignore it this time, flagging down the bar tender to get her own drink. Tango continued to sip his own.

He cleared his throat. “I liked your set.” Wow, way to go. Might as well call myself a climate-denyer with all this ice I’m not breaking.

That of all things got her undivided and startled attention. “Really?”

“I mean, yeah. You guys got some serious talent. I don’t think I saw anyone with as much range.”

“Well, I’m glad.” She said, stuck between wanting to be mad and soaking in the praise. “I’ve been working for this almost my whole life, you know. Since I was eight.”

Tango whistled, genuinely impressed. “Ain’t that the sorta dedication and ambition we all wished we had. Definitely shows. You’ll have to show me how you did that one bit in... What was it called? The one that was all-” He squinted in frustration, drawing shapes in the air to hopelessly illustrate his point.

Lizzie blinked, then clapped happily, “Oh! Destiny?” She beamed, and that was the first time Tango had been sure she and Jimmy were siblings. “Yes, well, it only really works with my keyboard specifically...” She descended into a rant, explaining what she had done with modes and foot pedals, completely forgetting to actually tell Tango what model she used in the first place. He could ask later. For now he nodded along, making mental notes. Now and then he asked questions, the conversation on the brink but never quite fully petering out to chase away the awkward silence. Tango wasn’t even sure it would still be there if it ended, but he much preferred happy Lizzie elaborating on how she played the keyboard over grumpy Lizzie ready to punch him in the throat.

Jimmy’s voice carried over the crowd, who roared to life as he started singing along with Dolly Parton. Tango took the briefest moment to watch, smiling to himself.

“Suppose...” Lizzie began, the words dying momentarily before she took in a new breath. “Suppose I was wrong.”

“About?” Tango tilted his head in confusion.

“Someone Jimmy met.” Her gaze was permanently fixed on her drink, obscuring whatever complicated emotions were passing over her face. “Suppose I was distracted with my own relationships and dreams. Suppose I was bias cause I knew them, and too young and stupid to notice it just wasn’t right for him until I had to forever hold my peace.” Fingers tightened around her glass. Tango worried it might shatter. “Suppose afterwards I had to help him unpack everything I helped him pack up before. Comforted him when he cried then go comfort the person who made him cry when they cried too, and couldn’t tell which was wrong, if either was. Suppose even after it was over it still wasn’t, and I couldn’t stop thinking it was for my sake it wasn’t.”

Her eyes were glossy when she timidly looked back up, threatening her perfectly done eyeliner. “Is there something wrong with trying to protect him from something like that happening again?”

And Tango couldn’t say no. He knew what it was like to be on both sides half a dozen times over. Maybe not the exact scenario she was alluding to, but ones similar enough. Hesitantly he reached out, and when she only shrugged he place his hands gently on her shoulder, giving her a comforting rub. “I think the only person who can answer that for you, is Jimmy.”

“And what am I supposed to do if he doesn’t want help?”

“I dunno, be there for him in other ways? You’re both adults, you’ll figure it out.” He snorted, his own bittersweet memories playing out in the back of his mind. Mostly of himself. “Some people just need to make their own mistakes to learn, even if you can tell them exactly what will happen if they do. It’s a lot better than feeling like you aren’t allowed to make mistakes at all, I can tell you that.”

“He’d make so many.” Her laugh was humourless. “And don’t think I don’t know what you stand to gain from this.”

Did he? Tango glanced over his shoulder to where Jimmy was, laughing and leaning over Joel as they belted along with the song. The guitarist paused, their eyes meeting, and an enormous grin stretched across his face as he waved to Tango. Tango waved back and turned away. He supposed he did. Was he just being biased? He hoped not. It was hard to think clearly through the buzz. “Well, you could always just beat the crap outta me. He can’t do much about that, can he?”

 That got a real laugh, so he turned back to her. Her eyes were still wet, but there was determination there now. “Don’t think I won’t!”

“I ain’t gonna defend myself!” He threw up his hands in concession. “Seriously, though. Jimmy never has nothin’ but good things to say about you. I think he really admires you, y’know? Just my two cents. You should just talk to him yourself, can’t imagine he’ll be rude about it.”

“He wouldn’t.” She agreed, shaking her head. “It’s just hard to have some conversations with younger siblings. Hard to see them as grown up when it feels like they were shoving crayons up their nose just yesterday.”

That was where Tango’s expertise ended, as an only child, so he shrugged. “When I was a kid we just ate them.”

“Oh, that was Joel’s thing. I was the smart one, you see. The only one who knew to draw with them.” She turned up her nose, dramatically sweeping her bubblegum pink locks back.

“... Sooo, on the walls?”

“It was a big canvas!”

Their conversation was cut short by a crash and commotion in the crowd. It didn’t take much else than spotting the mop of teal poking a few inches above the rest of the crowd to send both racing over.

There was a shit-faced cowboy, oddly familiar but Tango wasn’t sure from where, in a soaked flannel, flanked by two similarly dressed friends. In front of him stood Scott stuck somewhere between ‘ready to fall over and puke’ and somehow still high and mighty sass. There was an upside down cup in his hand, barely held there by three fingers. Tango didn’t need to see the pool of ice on the floor to put the pieces together. Especially not with Pearl huddled behind him in Cleo’s arms as she too glared daggers into the strangers.

The rest of their group quickly showed up, Jimmy and Joel shoving their way through the opposite side of the forming circle while the rest appeared beside Tango and Lizzie. Gem’s eyes narrowed as she snarled, “It’s that creep!” It took all of them to hold her back from marching into the conflict.

A fist wrapped around the front of Scott’s shirt and dragged him down to eye level with the cowboy, “The fuck’s your problem?” He snapped. Behind him his buddies jeered.

It took Scott’s alcohol addled mind a visible moment to register what just happened. His nose wrinkled, turning his face away. “Not my fault you can’t take a hint. Or a shower.”

There was a chorus of laughs, mostly from his own bandmates and Gem. All except Lizzie, who was giving Jimmy and Joel a nervous frown. The two weren’t paying attention, looking far too amused by Scott’s antics. Joel whispered something into Jimmy’s ear and Tango could only guess it was another one of their bets.

The cowboy spluttered, entire face red at this point, and shoved Scott back. His glass crashed to the ground. “Ain’t none of your business sniffing me, fairy boy!”

Scott’s eyebrows went up. Behind him, Pearl tried to whisper something to him, but it went ignored. Then he laughed, throwing his hip dramatically and leaning in. “Flattery won’t get you on this dick, princess.”

Then his fist connected with the stranger’s jaw.

“Jesus Christ, Scott!” Pearl shrieked, her and Cleo dragging him back as the cowboy went down.

Completely chaos broke loose. Gem ran free with a battle cry and launched herself onto the back of one of the cowboys just before he swung for Scott, her brother not far behind. Others broke through the crowd, friends or just rowdy patrons. It took Scott only a moment to get back into the fight, Jimmy and Joel cheering the three on. Joe jumped up on the bar with the mic, attempting to implore the crowd to calm down, but someone snatched his ankle and he quickly went down. Skizz shouted, though it was so incoherent Tango wasn’t sure if it was for peace or war. A plate smashed against a post. Both Tango and Lizzie shrieked as they ducked behind Impulse.

“Oh- those-” Lizzie blabbered while the three backed out of the main conflict. Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Jimmy, Joel! No!”

Tango turned just in time to watch the blond slam his guitar case into a guy who’d latched onto Gem’s pigtails. It was swiftly retaliated with a kick to his gut. He dominoed into a small crowd, from which Joel slipped passed and decked the offending cowboy in Jimmy’s stead.

People began pouring out of the bar, some fleeing and others fighting. “You two grab your boys before they get their teeth knocked in.” Impulse directed. “I’ll find Pearl and we’ll grab the rest when it’s safe.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Tango cleared a path behind the main brawl, Lizzie close on his tail. By the time they reached Jimmy and Joel they sported matching dark bruises on their cheeks, and there was blood dripping from Jimmy’s nose. That’d been enough to get them to bow out, but not to back off as they egged on their bandmates. Lizzie wasn’t having any off it, grabbing the strap of Jimmy’s guitar and the scruff of Joel’s shirt. Tango squeaked as Jimmy was practically tossed into his arms. “Let’s go!” She shouted.

All four stumbled out into the cool night air. They didn’t stop moving, not until they were halfway down the street and wheezing. “Oh my gosh!” Jimmy gasped for his life while Joel doubled over beside him. There was still adrenaline pumping wildly through Tango’s whole body, giving him the shakes.

Lizzie took just a moment to lean against a stop sign before her face twisted with rage and marched over to the two, shoving her finger into each’s chest. “What’d the matter with you two?” She screeched. “You could have gotten killed or arrested or- or- Gyahh!”

“Never been to jail.” Jimmy mused, which was the wrong answer. Despite Lizzie berating, the two devolved into giggles and bolted on ahead towards the campsite.

Lizzie was absolutely furious, read to chase after them if not for Tango’s hand on her shoulder. “Let ‘em run it off, Jimmy’ll make sure they don’t get far.” He assured. Jimmy may be high on the excitement of it all, but he was still sober. Just as he thought so the man in question nearly face-planted into the gravel road, saved only by his guitar case hitting it first. Joel paused to laugh at him before dragging him back to his feet and running once more.

“you see what I deal with?” She said, shrill and throwing her hands out towards her husband and brother, before they flopped to her sides. Tango couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “Well at least they weren’t stupid enough to throw the first punch.”

 They jumped at the sudden tone of Tango’s blackberry going off. It took the man a moment fiddling in his jeans’ pockets to find the thing, then nearly dropped it. A small reminder of his own numerous drinks that night. “Hello?” He answered. Lizzie leaned in.

“Tango! Are you guys okay?” Pearl’s frantic voice shouted over the sounds of a crowd. “We can’t see you, Impulse said-”

“We’re fine, Pearlie-pop, don’t worry.” Tango hastily assured, double checking that the other two hadn’t passed out on the road ahead or something. “Got out of there, heading back to the campsite right now.”

“Oh, thank god. Listen, everyone here’s mostly okay, but I think Scott, Joe, and Fwhip need a couple stitches. So Impulse is gonna bring Gem and Skizz back and steal the van from you to take us to the hospital.”

He nodded, smiling at Lizzie who visibly deflated with relief. “Roger dodger, boss-lady. We’ll get everyone tucked into bed, don’t you worry.”

The walk back was quiet, only a few bats and an owl filling the crisp night air. Tango had to pull out the flashlight on his keychain as they turned down the dirt path that took them directly to their end of the campsite. Despite their earlier stress they couldn’t help giggle as they found Joel passed out against the running kitchen sink, a sticky note stuck to his sleeping face telling them Jimmy went to see if the store was still open. Tango wished he stayed long enough for someone else to check out his nose, but he was ready to crash.

“Do you mind-?” Lizzie began, practically collapsing onto her bed after she dragged Joel over.

Tango smiled, “You go to sleep, I’ll wait for everyone.”

She nodded, that being all she needed to roll over and get comfy. There was a brief moment, in which Tango nearly left before she called out, “Tango?”

“Hm?” He leaned back inside.

There was a strained smile on her face, “I am sorry about earlier.”

He let out an airy noise, and waved her off. “Don’t be, I was an ass. Wish I had a big sister like you. He’s lucky.”

“I don’t think anyone would accuse Jimmy of being lucky. But thank you. It means a lot.”

“You just worry about getting some sleep for Hangover Road Trip Electric Boogaloo tomorrow.”

There was a groan of realization, which finally got her to nod and roll over.

Tango closed the door as quietly as possible, and sat down on the steps to wait. He hadn’t realized how out of it he was, not until there was some sort of strange sound that knocked him back into the world of the waking. When had he even nodded off in the first place? There was the sound once more, though. Tango stood up, eyebrow and flashlight raised. “Hello?”

There was a rustle from the other side of the trailer, and a screech. Jimmy’s head popped out from between the bushes they were pushed up against. He had leaves stuck in his hair, and the buse on his cheek had become yellow and purple. Another was forming on his chin along with a half dozen on his arms. But the blood from his nose was wiped away or dried and it didn’t seem to be broken. “Um, hi.”

“Jim? What are you doing?”

“Uh, nothing!” He squeaked, and stumbled out. The top of his case smacked against the back of his head, getting a wince from Tango. “Just got- got lost in the dark. The store was closed.”

“Closes at dinner time.” Tango pointed out.

Jimmy’s face went red, looking away. “Yeah... Sorry.” He eyed the trailer warily. “Is she mad?”

“Don’t think so.” Both moved to the picnic table. For once Tango thought he must look more tired than Jimmy. Something had torn open one of their chip bags while they were gone, the crumbs strewn about. Jimmy paused to wipe out towards the bushes, then plopped down with his arms slung over his guitar case.

“Do you wanna set up the tent?”

“Mmm, too much work now.” Tango would much prefer the air mattress to the table, but he was drunk and it was almost midnight.

There was a moment where Jimmy leaned back, puttering a three note beat against his case. “She yell at you? She said she was gonna go yell at you.”

A noise escaped Tango, too much of a reaction to deny it.

“Sorry for whatever she said. She likes playing big sister, all brave and smart. Forgets she fell from the same tree.”

“Nah, I ran my stupid mouth, I probably deserved it.” Tango shook his head, also leaning back.

There was a shift, and Tango felt the guitar bump his hand. “You know I was hanging out with Skizz today.”

“Yeah?”

“Made me think.” He hummed, not continuing until Tango nudged him back. “I know why we’re here. To make Lizzie and Scott famous. But... I don’t know why you guys are here.”

Tango blinked. He turned to look at the other man, who’s face darkened as he realized what he said. “Not like- I mean- Not that you don’t deserve it or anything-”

“No, I get what you mean.” He snorted, a bit lost in memories. Old ones from when they first met in college, new ones of Zed leaving and the girls joining. Promises they made to Pearl as they worked up professional contracts for the first time in their so-called career and sombre conversations between just him, Impulse and Skizz.

“You can’t say this to Gem.” Is all he asked, tone a bit desperate. Jimmy made a small noise, an agreement. Tango sighed. “Truth is, this is probably our last gig.”

Jimmy didn’t seem surprised.

“Dunno what we’re gonna do after this. Maybe we’ll make one last album, maybe we’ll leave how it is. Depends on how we feel I guess. Been living our whole lives doing this first and everything second. And not that I ain’t thankful for every minute of it, but, y’know. We ain’t rockstars. Got bills to pay and jobs to start taking seriously. Impy and Skizz do, at least. And if I can’t play with them I ain’t sure I wanna.”

He shifted his position, pulling his legs up to chest to rest his chin on them. “Honestly, we were thinking about it a few years back, after Zed left for his career. Then we met Gem, though, and- well, you met her. Shines like the sun. Something about her. She’s gonna be a star, we all knew it.” A smile sneaked onto his face, remembering the first time they heard her sing. “Never had big dreams like you guys, but we loved what we did and she loved playing with us. It was different, but it was like the good old days where it mattered. But life’s been catching up. I guess we just wanted to do one last big show together, something to remember. Y’know?”

It seemed like Jimmy did. At least, that’s what Tango hoped his sleepy smile meant.

Tango relaxed himself running a hand down his face to try and keep himself awake until their bandmates got back. “Told Pearl already, back when we signed her on. Don’t expect this too last too long. But we’re still trying to find a way to break it to Gem. Think she suspects it, but it’s still hard.”

“What about you?” Jimmy asked. Had he always been sitting that close, or had one of them scooched over in the breeze?

“Hm?”

“You said, Impulse and Skizz have plans. But what about you?”

There he was, a fish drowning in the sea. The question he’d not even realized he’d been avoiding. Imp and Skizz had full time jobs and family and homes, Gem and Pearl had their whole careers ahead of them, and he had- what? “That’s the question, ain’t it.” He murmured, suddenly feeling quite lost as he stared up at the night sky through the trees.

It wasn’t as though he’d taken their band any more serious than the rest of them, but somewhere along the way they’d all managed to build their own lives between the margins. Probably while he was passed out after playing roller coast tycoon all night or doing one of his other dozen going-nowhere hobbies.

A hesitant hand slipped onto his shoulder, massaging comfortingly. It brought Tango back down from wherever he was floating off to a lot easier than he’d ever like to admit. Jimmy didn’t bother to say anything. Not that he didn’t seem to want to. Nothing ever quite made it out until his mouth snapped back shut into a sympathetic smile. He didn’t have to. For once Tango thought he could understand. He really hoped it wouldn’t be the only time. It felt good.

Leaves ruffled and there was a loud, familiar whining. Both men stood up in time to watch Impulse drag Gem and Skizz under each arm into camp. “Almost there, guys.” He announced, shoulders falling as he spotted Tango and Jimmy.

They put the new pair to bed first against their whining and waved Impulse off. The little sleep demon in Tango’s mind screamed to finally get into bed. He heard Jimmy’s laugh when they both collapsed, creating a bounce back that shook the whole trailer and the pullout off the ground. “You’re makin’ breakfast, by the way.” Tango grumbled, already curling up against his cuddle buddy.

“Not fair!”

“Shh.”

Just as he drifted Tango heard a strange little whistle. Please birds, let me get at least a few hours of sleep, was his last thought as he drifted off.

[chunkypossum]

The Ultimate Guide to 'The Art of Mastering the Only Way to Lose the Game'

Azriel X Eris

Summary: Azriel and Eris have an understanding. They allow themselves certain things as long as they both stick to the rules of their little game. But what happens when one of them breaks the rules?

Words: 3516

Full one shot on ao3

--------------

“Choke in your sleep tonight, prick.” Azriel shot off, wings flaring slightly. Even though the words were biting, his tone was carefully neutral.

The meeting had devolved quickly into a fit of traded insults after Eris had insinuated that Azriel’s plan to finally put Beron out of his misery, out of everyone's misery, and install Eris as the new High Lord, was complete shit. They were all at their limit for tolerating one another after hours of picking apart the Night Court's latest attempt at fulfilling their end of the bargain they made so many years ago. 

“You can’t seriously think, Beron would fall for something so…stupid do you? I mean, maybe to an Illyrian, stupid plans are equated to a brilliance never before seen. To the rest of us who actually have brains… Well, you can see where the disconnect might be.” Eris began flourishing his hands as he talked, the way he did when he was getting visibly frustrated. The only thing that reigned him in was the slight smirk playing at the corners of Azriel’s mouth, he thought he was about to win. Arrogant bastard. 

“I’d pay to see you bite your tongue and suffocate on it.” Cassian murmured 

Eris, having cooled himself off, dismissed them both with a wave of his hand.. “I've got plenty of bullies at home. You are of no consequence.”

Something like pain flashed in Azriel's eyes but he covered it quick enough that his brothers didn’t notice, only Eris did. 

“Like we don’t all have shitty fathers.” Cassian bellowed. “At least we aren’t all assholes about it.” 

Eris wanted to point out that yes, they were all in fact, very much assholes about it, but he kept his mouth shut. It did absolutely no good to engage with the brute. It was only ever in reverse that Eris could have his fun. 

So, instead he said, “Asshole or not, your Nesta seems to think I make a pretty good dance partner either way. Are you still stepping on toes or did we graduate from kindergarten dance class? I hear even Rhysand’s little spawn is surpassing you and he’s what, 8?” 

Cassian’s wings hardened into stone at his back and his muscles went rigid. Eris could tell by his eye twitching alone that the bat was trying very hard not to rip Eris’ throat out. It wasn’t until Rhys slid into his mind that Cassian finally seemed to relax. Eris could tell by the glassy look in his eyes that the dog’s High Lord was giving him silent orders to let it roll off his shoulders. 

Which is exactly why Eris could not resist his parting shot. As he turned to leave Eris smirked and said, not too quietly under his breath. “Good dog.” 

The tether snapped and Cassian charged at Eris’ retreating frame only for Azriel to move quickly into his path. Azriel’s wings snapped out behind him cutting a barrier between Eris and Cassian. Eris had a hard time not turning around to ogle them. 

“Brother, it’s not worth it.” Azriel soothed, the edges of his voice were sharp enough that no one believed he actually thought that. 

“Oh I very much disagree with you brother. I think all the pain in the world would be worth the satisfaction of ripping that smirk off his arrogant face.” Cassian tried to move past Azriel but his brother stood firmly in place, not allowing him to pass....

Read the rest on Ao3

[dawneternal]

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Six

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

all aboard the crack ship???

Notes: sorry not sorry for the angst in this one 👀 it may be a little bit longer between the next chapters cause that's where all the drama starts to go down. Thanks for all the support!!

Warnings: smut and angst, 18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Ao3 Link / Masterlist

Elain woke to soft kisses. One on each of her cheeks, one on the tip of her nose, her forehead, her ear.

"Eris," She let out a sleepy giggle, reaching out for him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him still, smiling up at him and fighting to keep her eyes open. Soft honey eyes looked back at her, full of adoration and a gleam of contentment.

"Morning, sleepy dove," He murmured, burying his face in her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. It was so lovely to wake up to someone. Someone happy to see you.

"I suppose you are regretting everything this morning?" Eris teased between kisses across her collarbone.

"Regret is not the right word," Elain feigned seriousness, eyebrows drawing together as if deep in thought, "More like...underwhelmed. I suppose you'll just have to do better, today."

Eris scoffed as her sly grin grew, as she clutched him tighter in silent encouragement to take the challenge. He fought for a moment between punishing her there and then, and flipping the challenge back onto her, coaxing out the vixen underneath her demure facade.

Pride won out, and Eris was determined to turn her to a quivering, begging mess beneath him.

In truth, Elain's whole being felt light. Lighter than it had in a very long time. Somehow, he had convinced her to pour her entire heart to him, and he had listened. He had lifted so much weight from her shoulders. And he knew, because he felt the same way. But he was nothing if not stubborn and would not let her cheekiness slide.

It was not quite thirty minutes later when he met his goal.

"Still underwhelmed?" Eris pulled away just at the edge of her descent for the third time, looking up at her from between her thighs.

"No," Elain choked out, fingers buried in his hair, trying to pull him closer, "I won't tease again. Please, please!"

Eris relented and let her fall into bliss, considerably satisfied with himself. He always got what he wanted.

Eris turned his self defense lesson into an opportunity to flirt, and Elain had expected nothing less. Brushing against her, finding ways to touch her skin, speaking in innuendos. Always that sly smile.

The snow had mostly melted in the night, revealing the decaying leaves below. The sun filtering through the trees gave little warmth, and the wind weaving through the forest was bitingly cold. But Elain's skin was flushed and warm from the exertion and from Eris's attention, her cheeks bright pink and eyes glowing.

To his credit, and despite his own distractions, Eris was an excellent teacher. By the end of his lesson Elain had built an arsenal of tools and moves that would help to make her less of a target. He showed her how to free herself from several holds, how to incapacitate an attacker long enough to get away, how to properly use her dagger if it came to it, and how to flip someone over her shoulder. Though Elain wondered if that last one was possibly just for his own entertainment.

He went through the concept and movements until she had them memorized, before giving her the chance to try it on him. He told her she only had one shot. Though the pine needles may feel soft beneath their feet, it would not feel the same when his entire weight was used against him.

Elain's execution was perfect and Eris found himself laying on the forest floor, trees towering above him, spinning with the rest of the world. He let out a small groan in spite of himself and Elain's beaming face came into view.

Eris wanted her to feel confident. To move through the world with more agency and have the courage to take what she wanted. There was a hint of it, then, as she looked down at him.

But by the time their lesson ended, it had disappeared. Elain sat down on a tree stump with a sigh, looking deeply tired.

"What's the matter, sweet one?" Eris crouched before her, taking her hands in his. He was determined to drink in every moment with her, sieze every opportunity to cherish her before he possibly never saw her again.

Elain looked down at her lap, avoiding his patient and searching eyes. She chewed her lip as she thought.

"There's just so many things in this world I don't know. About defending myself, about who I am and what I want...." The lump forming in her throat cut her off.

About love and sex and intimacy, she wanted to add, but did not have the courage. He probably knew, anyways. He seemed to know her better than herself somehow.

"Oh, dearest," Eris reached up to brush a tear from her cheekbone. Elain convinced herself to meet his eyes. "Don't let that discourage you. Let it drive you. The whole world is a possibility. Let it turn you a little wicked. And then take the whole world in your hands and make it give you what you want. Do not for a moment believe yourself to be as weak as Rhysand has treated you."

A flame sparked in his eyes as he spoke, his gentle tone turning to something sharper. Elain reached out to hold his cheek, sweeping her thumb across his freckled skin. More tears fell, too many emotions swirling in her mind. Somewhere in the back of her head was a sense of urgency. The awareness of time ticking down to the moment it was all over. She could see it in his eyes, too.

"I have trapped myself with the choices I have made," Eris's voice broke just a little, "And it would heal me to know you avoid the same fate. Use your power to free yourself."

Elain could feel the desire building in her chest, sparked by the cracking of his voice. To chase the power he spoke of and the freedom to move through this world as a formidable opponent. Eris watched it glow in her eyes. A smouldering ember, allowing him just a hint of what she held within her. Her expression had changed, the uncertainty replaced with a terrifying calm.

Elain had a face that was inherently kind. But as Eris held her hands, he could feel what began to boil under the surface, what fire had already been lit by her mistreatment. He thought of her sister and the silver flames of death that cloaked her. Nesta had scared him before, but she would no longer frighten him. From this moment on, Elain would always scare him more, as something else dwelled beneath it all.

Elain would dangle her kindness like a prize, a glittering gem coveted by many. To be in her good graces and bask in her ethereal beauty was a gift and one she did not give freely. Anyone who took advantage of it would find themselves trapped like a greedy animal, subjected to her power, given to her by the Cauldron itself. Daughter of the only Mother, beloved by the Cauldron, she would wield the powerful blade of her own judgement with no remorse and those who failed her would weep at what they'd lost. Mercy from Elain Kingslayer would be earned only by those most worthy.

Elain peeled off her coat and scarf, tossing them into the coat rack without much care. All she could think about was getting into a warm bath and chasing away the cold that gripped her to the bone.

She had not noticed that Eris copied her every move and followed her to the washroom until she began to pull her dress over her head and a pleased hum met her ears. She jumped and turned, meeting Eris's smouldering gaze.

He smirked at her and reached for the hovering hem of her dress, pulling it up and over the rest of the way.

"I want to soak in the bath," Elain informed him, crossing her arms to deprive him of the curves that he was currently devouring with his gaze.

"I won't stop you," Eris answered, his voice low. Indeed, he held his hands behind his back, though he leaned forward to leave a soft kiss on her shoulder. "And I'll leave the minute you tell me to."

But of course, Elain was silent. She flashed him one haughty look before turning on the faucet. She removed her undergarments as slowly as she could manage, bending all the way to the floor as she slid off her underwear. She pulled up her brassiere with care, ensuring that her breasts bounced against her ribs as she released them.

Eris watched it all hungrily, not bothering to hide the evidence that grew against the front of his pants.

Elain stepped so daintily into the bath water, letting out an exaggerated sigh as she lay back against the tub. Then she looked toward him at last, gazing up through her lashes in surprise as if she had forgotten he was there.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She said, voice high and sweet, "Were you hoping for an invitation?"

"Something like that," Eris smirked, his usual wit lost to him just then.

Elain pretended to think for a long moment, pulling her lip between her bottom teeth as her gaze dragged over his form at an agonizing pace. Then finally, "Alright, I suppose I don't mind sharing."

She smiled to herself at the speed at which he removed his clothes, too desperate to hide his want. His skin still glistened with sweat, highlighting every dip and swell of muscle. If he had any patience left, Eris would have stood still and let her admire him, but he was cold and sore and he could not resist the sight of Elain waiting for him, eyes wandering over every inch of his naked body.

As he lowered himself into the tub to sit across from her, the bliss of the hot water erased his desire for a brief moment. He laid back against the tub as Elain had, closing his eyes and letting the warmth envelope him.

He heard a splash of water and then felt Elain crawling into his lap, her skin smooth against his under the water. He settled his hands on her waist and opened his eyes, but the face that met him was a sad one.

Elain's brows furrowed with grief, lips pursed, as her fingertips ran over the scars on his chest and shoulders. Beads of water dripped from her fingers, as gentle as her touch.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pulling her closer against him. She didn't stop her examination.

"You've felt so much pain in your life," Elain croaked, fingers brushing against a particularly large scar, "And from people who should not have hurt you."

"They're not all from my father," Eris whispered. Elain only looked at him, eyes glistening.

"Please cheer up, dove," He wrapped his hand around hers and lifted it away, brushing her knuckles across his lips.

"Why do you speak of it that way?"

"Like what?" Eris couldn't look at her, not at the sadness on her face. The sadness for him. He could bear it alone, but not when it looked back at him like this.

"Like it's alright."

"Because I can't fix it. I'm already doing everything I can. Every waking moment is spent on planning for the future," He let his head fall back, taking a break from the intensity of her stare by bringing his gaze to the white ceiling. "Someday it'll all be over. I usually get what I want."

Elain tucked herself into him as a response, nuzzling the bridge of her nose into the curve of his neck. Eris wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, soaking in the sympathy pouring from her heart.

"I will take the world in my hands," Elain murmured, the sound vibrating between their chests, breath tickling Eris's skin, "And I will punish it for what it's done to you."

Eris's heartbeat quickened at the ferocity in her tone, contrasting with her soft, melodic voice. At the way she gripped him tighter, nails digging into his skin as if she was worried he'd slip from her grasp. She pulled back to look at him, eyes darkening with anger and determination and desire.

Eris brought his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Perhaps he was pathetic for the way her power heated his blood. He couldn't think clearly enough to care, let alone chastise himself for it. Not with this beautiful, wicked thing in his lap, grinding her naked body against his.

She kissed him hard, teeth clashing against his, tongue fast and punishing. She nipped at his lips, and grazed her teeth along his jaw. She left a kiss over every scar she could reach and let her hands wander his body like her touch could erase what had been done to him.

Eris settled one thigh between her legs, pulling her down into him as she met his lips. He felt her gasp against his mouth, pausing to process the pleasure that ran through her. Then she continued, rolling her hips against the tight muscle of his thigh, letting his firm hands guide her. The warmth of his skin and the water drew beads of sweat from her brow.

He watched her with hungry eyes, her lips parted and swollen from her kisses. Elain could feel her release building quickly, but she slowed to a stop.

"What is it?" Eris murmured, but she didn't answer. She threw her leg over his to straddle him once more. Then she reached down and pulled his length into her fist. Eris groaned, eyes never leaving hers as she stroked him, his fingers digging into her thighs.

Elain rose up on her knees and began to align him with her center. Eris grabbed her wrist and his eyes searched hers.

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure." She said, firm. No sign of hesitation.

Eris relented, releasing her wrist and allowing her to sink down onto him. Elain braced her hands on either side of the tub, letting her head fall back as she reveled in the stretch. Reveled in how good it felt to give her body what it wanted.

Eris took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss her exposed neck. The movement pushed him deeper inside her, eliciting sounds of pleasure from them both. He brought his hands to her breasts, massaging and pinching as he attacked her neck. Soft kisses, punishing bites, apologetic swipes of his tongue. He left dark bruises along her collarbone, in the hollow of her throat, over her pulse points. When she had taken him in fully, he dropped his hands to her hips and encouraged the smooth push and pull of her body.

It did not take long for her movements to shift from slow and savouring to desperate, feverish. Lifting her hips and slamming back down, the head of his cock hitting some glorious spot inside her. She reached down and circled her clit with her finger tips, adding to the building pleasure.

Eris was trembling, breathing hard, moans escaping from deep in his throat. They were music to her ears, a song of his adoration.

"Elain, you should slow do-" He panted, gripping her thighs tighter.

"Are you telling me that you have no tonic in this secret sex cabin?" She cut him off, not stopping but keeping the same relentless pace.

Eris blinked at her and then tipped his head back and laughed, shoulders shaking. The corners of his eyes crinkled, something Elain had not seen yet. She stuffed it away for later, something else to cherish. If she could, she'd put it in a locket and wear it over her heart. 

"I do," Eris said, punctuated by a laugh-turned-whimper.

"Then come inside me."

Eris clenched his jaw, all mirth giving way back to desire. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, arching her back, holding her tight against him as he thrust into her hard and fast.

Elain held onto his shoulders, face buried in his neck as he fucked her, crying and whimpering against his skin. Release hit Eris first and he pulled her in, biting down on her bottom lip and groaning into her throat. Elain swallowed the sound, and the extra heat deep in her cunt pulled her over with him. She cried out his name, followed by a sob.

"Good girl," Eris purred, though he could barely think through the waves of bliss, "Come with me."

They clung to each other through the entirety of their release, skin against skin. Catching their breath as the movement of their bodies slowed to a stop.

It had been over for only a handful of seconds before everything began to feel solemn again. The sand was falling through the hourglass and neither could shake their awareness of it.

Elain's eyes welled with tears and  Eris and held her tight, cradling her head against his shoulder. She traced mindless circles in the curls at the nape of his neck, Eris running his free hand up and down the length of her back. They stayed that way for a long while. As long as the hourglass would allow.

Elain lay awake in the dark, trying not to disturb Eris as he slept beside her. She was full from dinner, satisfied with what she'd learned from their lesson, and delightfully sore from the exercise and from a third round of lovemaking after dessert. But something Eris had said while they ate had stuck in her mind, keeping her from drifting off.

"You know," He said, strangely reserved. Not wanting to look her in the eye, "My brother is not so bad. Actually, I'd say he's the best one of us."

Elain had stopped eating and stared at him, bewildered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe you should give him a chance to show you how well he could care for you," His words eye gentle, but he still would not look at her, poking at the last few bites on his plate.

"You know nothing of what's between us," Elain said, voice bitter. Eris had already braced for it.

"Maybe not. I just want things to be different for you, after this." He stood to take care of his plate, leaving her to ponder his words.

She was still pondering his words. She knew that she had perhaps been unfair with Lucien. But the circumstances of him being around her, trying to court her, were too overwhelming. She had not been interested in someone who she had not chosen. Someone thrust upon her by the same cauldron that stripped her over her humanity, drowning her in death and gifting her rebirth as something she never wanted.

But she was so lonely. And Eris was right, she knew Lucien would be good to her. But at this point, was she even worthy of him?

Elain pulled herself from Eris's arms, pausing to see if he'd wake. When his even breathing did not falter, she left the bed as quietly as she could and made her way to the washroom. There, she strapped Eris's dagger to her thigh and stood in front of the mirror. Over and over, she practiced what he had taught her. Pulling it out in a fluid motion, solid in her grip, holding it up as if to an attacker's throat.

She did it again and again, banning all thoughts but those of perfecting her movements. It did not clear her mind as well as baking or gardening, but it worked somewhat. She tried to let her nerves about the following day drive her, sharpen her skill. That's what Feyre would do.

When she was tired enough to sleep, she slipped back into bed, cuddling in close to Eris, letting his warmth lull her away.

[2thestars-andbeyond]

The Fire That Burns Within Part 3

SMUT SMUT SMUT 

My first time trying my hand at smut so be nice.

Enjoy.. kinda got carried away.. 

Eris was filled with rage as he winnowed back into the autumn court. He couldn't go home to the forest house this visibly angry. His father would demand to know why he is so pissed off. So Eris winnowed himself closer to the winter court border to his favorite clearing, one that he had warded from his fathers view centuries ago. He would always come here to blow off steam when he was angry at his father or just tired of his court duties. He raised his hands and a ring of fire circled around him and flames shot out from his palms. Eris sent fireballs flying through the air and towards the ground. He didn’t stop until everything in the clearing was on fire. Every blade of already dead grass every orange and red leaf that hung from the tree in the middle of the clearing, was up in flames. Eris stood, sweat dripping down his face. How dare Rhysand take what is his from him. Why didn’t Y/n want him? Y/n. Those eyes. Full lips. His mate.. With one last deep breath Eris commanded the flames to stop. And he headed to the forest house.

Eris didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t stop his mind from wondering to Y/n. So he stayed up all night and tried to  hide  his exhaustion the next day with failure. The High Lord of the Autumn Court could read his son like a book it seemed. Eris entered the dinning room at breakfast and took his normal seat at the table. Even though his shoulders were held straight and nose slightly turned up in true Eris fashion, his father still seemed to be suspicious of the Heir.

“You came in late last night.” Says Beron.

Eris scoops apple cinnamon oatmeal into a bowl. “I am sorry Father.” Eris apologizes.

“That is the second night in a roll you have came in late. You have duties to this court and I will not allow you to embarrass me” Eris knew his Father was being serious. He knew the consequences for disappointing his father. Sometimes the punishments were.. Ruthless.

“Yes Father, I understand.” Eris said as he sat straighter in his chair.

Y/n hadn’t slept much either. Maybe because of the bond.. Or maybe because her dreams were filled with the autumn court male. Dreams that involved his hands all over her. She woke up many times during the night covered in sweat. And her nether regions covered in her slickness. The dreams were driving her crazy, so she decided to stay out of her room as much as possible to keep her mind busy and off the Autumn court male.

Azriel hadn’t left her side and Y/n had been grateful for that. She found Az’s company to be a blessing. They soon found themselves laughing and talking as they walked the streets of Velaris. Y/n enjoyed dressing up and going to Rita’s with Azriel, Mor, Cassian and Nesta. It was nice to cut loose and dance with no worries. She even shared a few dances with a handsome blonde male, but Azriel didn’t let the male stick around too long.

That night after coming home from Rita’s, Y/n went straight to bed hoping that no risque dreams would come to her. But oh boy was she wrong.

 Eris’ warm lips were on her neck. His hands pawing at her breasts. Her hand rested on his upper knee. His lips found hers and a moan escaped her. Eris removed his tunic and Y/n ran her hands up his chest she started fussing with the buttons of his pants and he helped her remove them. He then flipped her backward so that she was laying on her back and spread out before him.

“So beautiful my little flame.” He purred. He bent down so that his head was between her thighs, a sigh came from her as he licked and long strip moaning at her taste. “So sweet”

“Please Eris, again.” Y/n begs and tangles her fingers into his red hair. He obliged her. “Yes just like that. So warm.” She moaned.

“I just love to hear you beg.” Eris says as he slides a slender finger into her center as he starts licking her clit again. Y/n moan his name.

“So good” Y/n says out loud as a knock on her door wakes her. Did she really just say that out loud? Fuck.. He is driving her crazy..

Y/n throws on a robe and answers the door seeing Az on the other side. Shit. she really hopes he didn't hear her.. She find herself squeezing her knees together, or smell her..

“Hello Az.” She says with a smile.

“I was just checking in on you.”

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Per usual.” He says

“You want to come in?” She asks and opens the door wider.

Az enters the room and takes in the room. Book cases line the wall to the left and the balcony door the left open and a smell he couldn’t put his finger on.. Something sweet almost like honey..

“I enjoyed our day out today. That cafe really was the best.” She says trying to make small talk and get her mind off that damn dream. Az sat next to her on the couch. .

“That cafe is my favorite. They have the best pastries .And Feyre mentioned you liked coffee.”

“I love coffee, as a mortal I basically lived off it, but as a Fae.. I guess I just drink it now for the taste.” She explains. They stay up and talk until Y/n can barley hold open her eyes.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me are you?” Asks Az. Y/n mumbles a no. And Azriel puts an arm around her as she lays her head on his shoulder. He absentmindedly rubs lazy circles on her bare shoulder leaving goosebumps in his wake. When she falls asleep he ever so carefully picks her up bridal style and carries her to bed tucking her in. Az turns to leave and Y/n grabs his hand.

“Won’t you stay?” She asks sleepy.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to get under the covers. Ill get you you of your own.. “

“Where are they?” Az asks and instantly regrets how fast his response was. Y/n points to the closet. Az lays down on top of Y/n covers listening to her soft even breaths. When he was just drifting off Y/n moved in her sleep and placed an arm on his chest. Azriel, being the touch starved male he is, embraced the tiny touch. Just before sunrise, Y/n started stirring in her sleep waking Azriel. At first he thought that maybe she was having a nightmare, but as he raised up in bed to wake her, he smelled that sweet smell again.

He instantly knew that it was her arousal. And Az stiffed next to her. It had been so long since he had been near an aroused female. He found himself trying to take deep breaths to stop from getting turned on himself. The deep breaths worked until she let out a soft moan, almost too quiet for him to hear. But due to their closeness, she was practically in his ear.

Between the smell of her arousal, the moan and her hand sliding down his chest closer and closer to his hardening member the Spy Master was paralyzed. Y/n jointed awake. And realized how close her hand had been to..

“Oh Gods–” She whispered. “I’m sorry I..” she stared at the tent that had formed in between his legs. He huffed through his nose and Y/n turned her attention to his face. His hazel eyes caught hers. The dreams that she had been having were driving her insane. They seemed so real and it had been so long since she had release. All the sudden she closed the distance between them, catching his lips hungrily. She placed her hand on the back of his neck bringing him closer to her. He shouldn’t have kissed her back, but it had been so long.. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and Y/n pulled away.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn't have–..”

“It’s okay.” He searched her eyes and as his eyes drifted lower he noticed that her tank top had been pulled down exposing her full breasts. He cock twitched. Feeling the heat of his gaze, she grabbed the blanket to cover herself but Az caught her hand to stop her.

“Don’t. You are too beautiful to hide yourself.” He placed his hand on her check allowing his thumb to rub her cheekbone. It was so wrong Y/n was a mated female. She shouldn’t want this so bad. But the dreams..

“Fuck it” She declares pulling Azriel down on top of her. He let her, wanting this as much as she did. Y/n found Azriel to be very attractive. The slim waist and his abs, the “V” line that she had seen many times at training sessions this past month. It was all enough to make her drool. Y/n moans as his tongue swipes over her lip again. This time, she gave him access. He let his hands roam her body.

Eris had just awoken to a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Searching down the mating bond he knew what the feeling was immediately. The feeling only intensified as time went on and Eris found himself palming his hardening length in his hand. Pumping ever so slowly. He tired to imagine Y/n pleasing herself. Y/n unknowingly sent a moan down the bond and it was almost enough to have Eris spill all over his hand.

Azriel inserted a finger into Y/n. She let out a moan. He licked her clit. She was so close.

“Yes Azriel.” she groaned.

Azriel inserted another finger and curled his fingers up. Hitting her in all the right places. “Fuck” she mewled back arching off the bed.

Eris reached further down the bond trying to get more of what Y/n was feeling. He wanted to see what she was going to herself, but all he could find was blackness. She must have her eyes closed. Just as she sent another moan down the bond the blackness disappeared. And Eris was greeted with the imagine of a set of large wings. This couldn’t be what Y/n was seeing. He watched as the over grown bat leaned up and placed a hungry kiss on his mates lips.

“What do you want Y/n?” he asks.

The only response received was Y/n flipping the Shadowsinger over so that she was on top of him. Eris couldn’t bring himself to get out of Y/ns head. He watched as she guided Azriel’s cock into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips as she sat down, taking all of him. She begins to rock her hips. Az reaches up palming her breasts. She moans his name.

Eris finds himself pumping his hand more vigorously in tune to the rhythm that Y/n is bouncing . Azriel flips them over without sliding from her. He places his hand over the print on her neck, he moans. His wings flare and his shadows roam her body as he reaches the peck of ecstasy. Y/n chest turns red as she finds herself getting closer too. A string of yes’s leaving her lips. Azriel groans her name and a few curse words follow. Wings spread wide, he spills inside of her. And Eris moans as he spills over his hand.

Then he doesn’t see anything else but red. And he is winnowing away, to the night court.

Eris had been mad before but never “start a war” mad. He thought himself to be a respectful male. A male that was not quick tempered, but this was a different type of anger. This was “i will burn your court to the ground” anger. Even though he had enjoyed watching Y/n come undone, it was not his name she was moaning. Illyrians are pigs in his book. First his betrothed had been taken by one and now his mate. That’s just his luck really.

Rhysand met him just outside of the river house.

“Where is she” Eris demanded.

“What are you doing here Eris?” Rhysand asks annoyed at the Heir.

“Where is she?!” He screamed as flames flew from his palms just missing Rhys’ feet. “I will burn your precious court the the ground!”

“Leave” Rhys says.

“I will not! Not with out her. I will not allow your bastard over grown bat to defile my mate again!”

“Brother, whats the meaning of this?” Lucien shows up behind Rhys.

Eris tires to clam his breathing. He shouldn’t be this upset Y/n was free to do as she pleased. But she was his mate. And the Shadowsinger had crossed a line and he will pay. Eris lowered his mental shields and let Rhys see what he had seen through the bond.

Rhys eyes narrowed. “I told him to keep watch over her not to..”

“What with all the ruckus? Did you forget how to tell time.. Why is he here?” asks Cassian yawning, half asleep.

“I will kill you all” Eris growls temper raging. Feyre squeezes baby Nyx tighter in her arms. And Eris feels bad about his choice of words.  

“There is no need to be so hostile.” Says Lucien to his brother. “I am sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

“A misunder–” Eris scoffs  “You may be okay with the Shadowsinger placing his hands on what is yours!! But I’ll be damned..”

“Whats the meaning of this?” Azriel asks stopping just outside of the front door realizing who was the cause of the yelling.

“You!” Eris growls and lunges for the Spymaster.

Azriels siphons blaze blue. Y/n jumps between them. “Stop.” She yells at Eris placing a hand on his chest. He takes in her attire. Her skimpy night shirt.. She tightens the robe around her. Heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Eyes lock to her. Hazel meets amber. Eris takes a deep breath in and smells Y/n and Azriels scents mixed together.

Disgusted he snarls at Azriels, “How does it feel to know that she was thinking of me while you fucked her?”

Azriel lost it and pushed Y/n to the side and into Nesta’s arms. Az grabs Eris by the collar of his elaborate tunic a snarl on his face and a smirk on Eris’. Shadows swarm around them. Azriel drawls his fist back.

“Azriel don’t! Please.” Pleads Y/n. “This is all my fault.” Az pushed him down and Eris fell face first into the dirt.

From the ground Eris says “So desperate for female attention. All you Illaryians are the same. Pigs” He spits.

Azriel attacks him. Thighs on either side of Eris’ hips. His shadows pin Eris’ wrists to the ground. Fists flying and shadows too. Y/n screams for him to stop. Rhysand nods toward Cassian and he walks over and casually pulls Azriel off Eris. “Come now brother, that’s enough.” He says obviously amused. “Don’t want to mess up his pretty face too much” He laughs.

“How many times do I have to beat your ass to get you to understand not to fuck with me?” Azriel yells.

Y/n looks over to the Princling. Blood covers his face. “Fuck you Shadowsinger” He spits a mouth full of blood onto the ground. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have a mate.”

Azriel struggles in Cassian’s arms. Y/n feels sorry for what she caused. With a sigh she kneels in font of Eris, and waves her hand over his face instantly healing him. He cocks his head to the side and frowns at her. Lucien had been training her on her healing powers and she had gotten a lot better.

She can’t help but cup his check in her hand. “I am sorry” She whispers to him. “It’s just– the dreams– And Azriel was there..” Eris stares at her she had been having the dreams too?

“How did you know?” demands Azriel.

“She sent me visions down the bond of your.. Encounter.” Embarrassed, Y/n stands. Shit, he had seen them..

She felt a pull in her chest as she stepped away from him. Not sure what to do or say. The guilt of betraying her mate coming to much to bare. She wasn’t sure what came over her. Maybe it was the heart breaking look on Eris’ face a look that made her think that he too, felt her feelings.

“I accept.” The stated standing in front of him again. Gasps were heard all around.

“Y/n, you can’t actually mean that.” Nasta says. Did she mean it?

“We are mates, I have to mean it.” She says tears in her eyes.

“You don’t have to.. There are other ways. You could break the bond.” Azriel told her jumping from Cassian’s arms and grabbing Y/n. “Break the bond” he says.

“I–” Y/n stares into Azriels eyes, shadows swarming around her. She can’t. She doesn't want to. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry Az.. You are a good male. And you deserve a female that is solely yours.” Az takes a deep breath.

Turning towards Eris Y/n says, “I will go with you to Autumn.”

“Eris, father will not have her–” argues Lucien.

“I don’t give a damn what father will have. He will accept her or I will kill him. And Y/n and I will rule Autumn side by side” Eris says with a smirk.

Her sisters yell her name as Eris grabs her and disappears.

[jawritter]

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 8

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count:  2737

Prompt: Snowball fight

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​​​

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Throws fluff in your face.

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

“Has the plow come through yet?” Dean questioned as Sam walked through the door, shivering and kicking snow from his boots out of the still open door. Y/N shuttered, pulling the blanket she had draped over her lap tighter against the bitter bite of the cold wind that blew through the door. 

“Fuck no,” Sam answered breathless and struggling with the ski mask he’d adorned to venture out into the driveway. “It’s stop snowing, but that shit is deep, I don’t see them coming through here until later in the fucking week.”

“Well, you will just have to zoom what you can, and reschedule the rest, cause I highly doubt that anyone can even get into your office anyway,” Y/N chimed in, turning the page on a book she was holding more than reading. She was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than Dean currently, but it was at least proper to pretend right? Pretend that he didn’t have a Goddamn choke hold on her. 

“Yeah, so it looks like I will be in my room all day long on zoom. Please don’t be dicks guys, I can see the smirk already forming on Dean’s face. No sex noises.”

Y/N snorted out a laugh at the absurdity that Sam thought they might actually be doing any adult activities between the pair of them period. Making out after a heavy drinking season was one thing, passing out on the couch together was one thing, but fucking, much less while stoned sober, was another. 

“No promises Sammy, You know me, I like I like everything in my life. Thick and loud.”

Y/N choke on plain air as Dean turned over his shoulder and shot her a wink. 

“TMI dude, just, you guys be quiet, I’ve got to zoom call a few clients to get ready for a court date at the end of the month.”

“Don’t worry Sammy, we’ll behave. I’ve got to try and get out there in that and dig out my baby anyway,” Dean said with a sigh, ''I know she’s technically under the carport, but I don’t like all that snow gathered up there by her rear end. I don’t want it to rust her paintjob.”

“I can help,” Y/N offered. She was so tired of being stuck in this house, trapped in her own head, that she thought that the bitter cold might make a nice distraction. Also, it would help cool down some of those raging hormones that Dean seemed to awaken every time he flopped down on the couch like he did just then and tossed his arm around the back of it. 

It was a simple action that probably meant nothing to him, but to her, it sent her stomach fluttering, and her thighs pressing closer together under her blanket. Especially when he was sitting there, mere inches from her, liking that perfect fucking lower lip of his that she so desperately wanted to sink her teeth into. Who the fuck was she anymore? She didn’t even recognize herself?

“Sweetheart, it’s freezing out there, I got it, it will not take me long just to shovel away from her trunk and tires. No need for both of us to be cold. Besides, when I come back inside someone’s gotta warm me up again,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her with a face full of open innuendos, and Sam shuttered as he closed the door to his room, earning a cackling laugh from Dean. 

Y/N pouted at him, and he narrowed his sharp green eyes at her. 

“You’re not gonna listen to me are you?” Dean questioned, and Y/N grinned at him, her best, childlike, mischievous grin.

“Fine,” Dean said with an exaggerated eye roll, and she clapped her hands excitedly. “But you’re not allowed to shovel shit. You stay in the garage and keep me company, but stay out of that fucking frozen shit out there. I tried to get to the end of the driveway earlier and gave up. It’s that bad.”

“Deal,” she agreed, and bounded off of the couch to go and put on her boots and coat that were hanging by the door, while Dean got up to go to the guest room to retrieve his own. 

It wasn’t that she liked the cold all that much, quite the contrary, she hated it actually. It was more the fact that she needed to see the famous Baby she’d heard so much about. 

The day Dean had arrived, she’d been nervous about the potential of her new house guest, she hadn’t even bothered to look in the garage where he’d parked her. After he’d arrived, the blizzard hit, and no one was brave enough to open the door, so this would be her first time seeing Dean’s famous muscle car in the flesh. 

“Okay, ready to freeze?” Dean asked as he appeared suddenly into the living room, long, black trench coat, scarf, face covering, hat, gloves, and all. Pretty much all you could see were his bright green eyes poking out from underneath, and still somehow he was breathtakingly handsome. Even if he did have more covering on than a seral killer. 

Y/N snorted with laughter and nodded as she pulled her hat down over her own head. “You know, you’d think that you’d never been in the cold before,” Y/N said after a moment, still giggling to herself. 

“Laugh it up sweetheart,” Dean’s muffled voice came from behind his face covering. “Payback is gonna be a bitch though.”

“Dean, have you ever shoved snow before?” Y/N asked him, and Dean stopped to think about that for a moment. 

“No,” he answered after some thought, “no I don’t think that I have.”

“Well, you’re gonna start coming out of those layers after a few shovels full, I can assure you of that,” she informed him as he approached the door that led to the open garage. 

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “but we’re just gonna wing it, cause I’m hoping she’s not too buried and just a couple of shovels full will do.”

“Suit yourself,” Y/N voiced with a shrug and opened the door for the pair of them, immediately gasping as the cold air hit her like a punch to the face. 

Living in Detroit, cold and snow just came with the territory. It was something she’d grown up with. Shoveling snow was by far NOT a new task for her. Dealing with being snowed in wasn’t either.  The part of the winter she never quite got used to was the cold. She could handle the ice. She could even handle the heavy snowfalls. But it was the bitter, biting cold that only came after a famous Michigan snowstorm that she never got used to, and probably never would. This is also why she vowed to never move or live any further north than what she did right now.

“Goddammit,” Dean quipped from behind her as she closed the door behind him, and followed her down into the garage. “You know, Sam really needs to see about getting this old garage closed in and escalated.” 

Y/N shivered as a gust of northern wind billowed through the opening at the top of the garage, “couldn’t agree more.” 

That’s when he saw her, and God she was a beauty, standing there in all her black, iconic glory. 

“Gorgeous isn’t she?” Dean asked, bumping her with his elbow as he passed with the shovel in his hand, making his way around the car to start shoveling the snow away that was piled higher than her tailpipes. 

“Beautiful,” Y/N admitted. She wasn’t exactly a car fan, but you didn’t have to be one to appreciate Baby. She shined like a black pearl. There wasn’t a scratch on her. Dean had kept her detailed down to her chrome accents. 

It was something really, to see how much care and devotion he’d put into the things he’d cared about. To take the time to make sure every minute detail of her was to perfection, and to even be out here, shoveling snow away from her, even when most people would have never braved the cold to do it. Sure, it was just a car, but to her it spoke heavily to the character of the man he was. 

The heavy sound of Dean’s shovel cracking at the snow brought her back to her present, and she turned to see him diligently working, but this time without the face covering, and missing a scarf. She smiled at the fact that she was proven right. When shoveling snow, it doesn’t take long to work up a sweat. 

That’s not what distracted her though, what really distracted her was the sheer to god work of art that this man was in front of her. Every movement he made was mesmerizing. While she hadn’t seen him shirtless, she could just imagine how his broad shoulders and chest muscles trained against the fabric of the dark green Henley he wore underneath his jacket. Or how this back muscles surely rippled like freckle dusted waves on an ocean. The way his breath came from his mouth in hot pants against the cold air, causing a puff of steam to form around him as he worked, eyebrows furrowed, and arm muscles building around the strained sleeves of his coat, all the way down to his powerful, bow legged stance as he bent to scoop another shovel full of powder away from Baby’s precious black exterior. 

“Like what you see, baby girl?” Dean questioned as he looked over his broad shoulder at her, wiggling his jean clad ass teasingly, and she knew she’d been caught, so she blushed deeply, and turned away, seeing a large pile of snow that had slid off of the roof not even for feet from where she’d been standing watching him, and she did the only thing a mature, helpful adult could do, grab a handful of it as he turned back to his work, and launch a ball of it right at his backside. 

Dean jumped and cursed as the cold ball of snow and ice made connection with his left ass cheek, and Y/N laughed as he turned to face her, an impish look on his handsome face, somewhat red with exhilaration that it had taken to shovel the snow away from his car.  

“Oh, that's how this is gonna be, princess?” Dean questioned, giving her a pantie melting smirk as he ditched the shovel in his hand for a fist full of snow of his own.

Squealing, Y/N took off around the impala, using her as a shield as she ducked, only just missing the launch of a snowball from his direction, erupting in a fit of laughter at his swearing when she ducked for another handful of snow herself. 

Two hours later, and more snow thrown than shoveled, Y/N and Dean found themselves in Y/N’s room with a hot cup of coffee, and the TV playing in the corner so as to not disrupt Sam, who was still on a zoom call with the client he’d been working with. 

“With that much snow on the ground out there,” Y/N stated as Dean lifted the covers to settle himself down next to her, “I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get out of her any time soon, cause all that powder is gonna turn into ice as the temps drop. I’m sure they will keep the roads closed until everything starts to warm up again, there’s only so much salt and road plows can do through these suburban areas.”

Dean just shrugged as he took a drink from his cup. 

“That’s fine with me, cause it’s not like I got much to go back to anyway.”

“Did you ever tell Sam you quit your job?” Y/N questioned as Dean scooted even closer to her, draping an arm around her shoulders, and settling the pair of them down deeper into the blankets around them. Y/N hadn’t even realized how cold she was until they’d gotten back inside, but with Dean next to her, all she could concentrate on was how SOLID the man seemed to feel. How warm he was. How good he smelt. Did the man have any fucking imperfections for fucks sake?!

“No, I was gonna… but he kinda offered me a proposal that I wanted to talk to you about before I made a decision,” Dean admitted, and Y/N adjusted so that she could see his face. It was heavily guarded, and there was nothing readable about him as he stared straight ahead to the television, purposely avoiding her gaze. 

“Okay, Shoot.” 

“Sam asked me to move in,” Dean admitted in a rush, and Y/N sat up a little straighter. 

“What? Really?” 

“Yeah,” he said, blinking at the TV, but not really focusing on it. “He asked if I wanted to move in, and start a private investigation agency down here. Seeing as he’s a lawyer, he thinks he can help with that a lot. He wants me to start over here with him. Leave all that bad shit in Kansas behind…”

Dean let his words drift away, and suddenly, Y/N’s anxiety tightened around her throat like a vice. 

If Dean moved in, what would that mean for her? Would she have to move out? Would the brother’s even want her around anymore? What would she do if they wanted her to move out? Sam said she could stay here for a while until she figured out what to do? Now he wanted to move in Dean, and she’d be stuck here again as the third wheel. 

“Hey,” Dean said, catching her attention from her worrying. “If you don’t want me to say baby I can go home, It’s okay, I haven’t made him any promises, I just thought you should have a say so too, seeing as you live here too.”

“No!” Y/N said, maybe a little too quickly, because as much as she didn’t know what him moving in might mean for her, she didn’t know how she’d handle him leaving.  She really, really did not want him to go. “I don’t want you to go home… it’s just… did he say if… you know… he wanted me to leave?” 

Dean blinked at the questioned as if it just didn’t compute for a moment, and he didn’t know what she was talking about, until the lightbulb almost visibly appeared over his head, and a range of emotions passed over his face she didn’t understand. 

“No, you’re not going to have to leave if I stay! Y/N, you’re one of the main reasons I’m even thinking about staying!” Dean admitted, and Y/N looked at him like he’d lost his mind. 

“What do you mean?” she questioned, and he reached for the remote to shut off the TV that seemed to be playing too loud suddenly in the background.

“Y/N,  I love my little brother, but Sam and I living and working together is nothing new, I mean, we did it for years. If I decide to stay… It would be because I really, really, like spending time with you, and maybe if you’d have me I’d want to hang around.”

Y/N blinked at him as if he were speaking another language. Like she’d fallen in the garage and hit her head, and now was having a fever dream of some sort. 

“You— you want to stay here because— of me?” She questioned, and narrowed his eyes at her the way he always seemed to do when she wasn’t catching on to whatever it was he was saying as fast as maybe he wanted her to, his dimples always showed when he did that, and fuck if it wasn’t the most beautifully distracting thing she’d ever seen. She’d never get tired of staring at them. 

“Yes, I like you Y/N, a lot, and… I don’t know, if you’re not opposed to dating an old man, I’d like to see where this goes between us?”

Y/N blinked and stammered at him for a moment, and if he’d not been watching her so intently, she probably would have pinched herself to see if she was dreaming or not. 

Chapter 9 HERE!!!

Forever:

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@jensenslady79​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnwoman​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@stoneyggirl2​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@stixnstripesworld​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@fullwattpadmusictree​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@nancymcl​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@christycreature​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@whiskey-infused-dreams​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@supernatural79impala​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@deandreamernp​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@forgetthisbull​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@miraclesoflove​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@slamminmine​​​​​

@deanwanddamons​​​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​​​

@chevyharvelle​​​​​

@i-love-superhero-movies​​​​​

@lyss-dw79​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@magssteenkamp​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@lemondropirwin​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@hobby27​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@emoryhemsworth​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@flamencodiva​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@itmejado​​​​​​

@thoughts-and-funnies​​​​​​​

@teresa-67​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@hearteyes-j2​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@peaches007​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@bobbie3939​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@vulgar-library​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@writercole​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@fairlyspnfanfic​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@sexyvixen7​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@spngi​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@b3autyfuldisast3r​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@donnaintx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@maliburenee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@the-family-business67​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@agirlwithdemonblood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@captainsoldiergirl​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@akshi8278​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwinchestersspinsterwitch​

@herstarburststories​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@mimaria420​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@charred-angelwings​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@pascal-rascal424​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@myloversgone​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​​​​​​​​

@eevvvaa​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@jxackles​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@lassie-bird​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@samsgirl93​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@shawnie74​​​​​​​​  

@kaz11283​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@mlovesstories​​​​​

@ladysparks78

[flannel-cladpika]

Where - Oikawa Toru x GN! Reader

A/N: This is a part of my new series “The Big Questions”. As a side note, they are all stand-alone fics, not related to each other, just connected through the idea of them each being based off of the prompts “Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How”

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Slight swearing

The convenience store 2 blocks from your house had always been a special place to you. Especially since that was where you’d always meet your best friend.

Who was also your biggest annoyance.

You’d known Oikawa Toru since the two of you were in elementary. Your mom and his were friends with each other and both your older sisters became best friends when they were little. 

Which meant that your families hung out together a lot, whether it was your sister babysitting you two so Oikawa’s sister could come over too, or visa verse, it resulted in you two coming into contact a lot. 

Eventually, the two of you got older and would get tired of the older siblings and adults, and would wonder off. In the beginning, you two were only allowed out a half-block past the house. But as you both grew, that distance got wider, until eventually, in your 2nd year of middle school, you were allowed as far as the convenience store.

You two would hang out there all the time. It was where you would get every celebratory ice-cream after Oikawa’s victories, and where you would go whenever you needed a cheap bowl of ramen after failing a test.

The store employees all knew you and Oikawa by name, and would ask where the other was if only one of you came in.

It was your store. Yours and his. It would always be that way.

-

“I said one ice-cream, not ten!” you exclaimed, seeing the setter with his arms full of assorted frozen desserts.

“But I couldn’t choose! I’ll share some with you if you like!” he said, trying his best to sound like a little kid.

You shook your head. “Nope. I will get you...” 

You stop to grab a random treat from his arms, 

“This one. There, I made the decision for you, now put the rest back.” 

The brunette pouted again, but you were having none of it.

“No. That’s not working on me, ToTo.” you stated firmly.

“Hey! Don’t call me that!”

“Then stop acting like a child and put the rest of that back before it melts and I have to pay for all of it!” you shot back.

Begrudgingly, the teen put back all the sweets he’d procured, walking back to you with a huff.

“You could’ve at least gotten 2 or 3 of them...” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Hell no. If I let you eat that many sweets before a game, Iwa will have my head.” you stated, shivering at the thought of gaining Iwaizumi’s ire.

Iwaizumi Hajime had become your friend soon after you met him. He was able to put up with Toru’s bullshit and help keep him in line, and you respected the hell out of him for it. Was he sometimes a bit too harsh? Sure, but Oikawa kind of deserved it, seeing as he could be a real ass when he wanted to be.

The brunette beside you seemed to get a chill up his spine at the thought of Iwa getting upset with him.

“Nevermind! One is plenty!” the tall male stated, having changed his tune after being remind of his teammate’s temper.

“Good.” you said, glad to have him on the same page.

After getting your drink and Oikawa’s ice-cream, you made your way to school. Toru had a match the next day against Karasuno, and it was a big one.

“I am going to destroy that stupid little prodigy and his shrimp.” Oikawa seethed, suddenly looking serious.

“Him and that dumb little shorty are not getting in my way. I’m going to win against Ushiwaka, if it’s the last thing I do.” 

You snorted, breaking Toru out of his focus.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, offended by your laughter.

“It’s just you. I’m not used to seeing you so serious off the court. It’s a bit funny, especially when you’re holding a strawberry ice-cream in your hands while giving a death glare to the sidewalk.” you chuckled.

“I can be serious!” Oikawa shouted, sounding like a petulant child.

You laughed again. “Yeah, and pigs have wings.”

Toru huffed, turning and walking away from you like the drama queen he was.

He would never admit it, but Toru liked how you never gave into his shit. You never fell for his tricks or charms, and it was refreshing. He could be himself with you. You and Iwaizumi were the only people he didn’t have to worry about letting down or disappointing. Sure, he loved the praise and the limelight, but the rest of the world just liked his face, skill, and fell for his charisma (though he couldn’t blame them).

Which was why he loved going to the convenience store with you, occasionally having Iwa tag along. It was like a second home. The shelves of snacks that you and he had tried all of; the smell of freshly made food for the hot case; even the chill that always came from the freezer section, it was all so familiar and comfortable. He knew he could always rely on lifting his spirits there, especially if you were beside him.

That was...until he lost to Karasuno and lost his chance to go up against Shiratorizawa.

You were there for the game with your big sister who was in town. You’d seen the whole thing. 

Your first instinct had been to rush to Toru and Hajime and hug them as tight as you could until the tears came down... but you held back.

You knew that trying to console them now would be hard. Oikawa hadn’t seen you there, and you had planned to surprise him and Iwa after they won, like saying ‘I say the whole thing! You guys were amazing!’

But you knew if they found out that, on top of losing, you were also there and saw the whole game, it would likely just hurt their prides.

So, you stayed back, waiting until they were out of the double doors of the gymnasium. Slowly, you and your sister made your way back to her car. You caught a glimpse of the Aoba Josei team, but quickly pulled your sibling further into the crowd before any of the team could spot you.

You went home that night, tired and teary eyed as you laid on your bed. 

You knew how much Toru and Iwa had practiced and worked for the chance to play against Ushiwaka again, and how much beating Karasuno meant to them, especially Oikawa. You were heartbroken for them.

Knock Knock Knock

That was weird. Who would be visiting your house at this hour? Your parents were out on a date night and your sister was staying at a hotel. 

You grabbed a heavy flashlight and your phone before carefully walking down the stairs to the front door.

Knock Knock

There came the same sound again. You slowly peeked outside the door only to see...

“Hey.”

It was Toru. 

He looked awful

He was dressed in black jogging pants, a plain white t-shirt with a blue hoodie jacket, and his favorite pair of adidas sandals. His eyes were a bit red and puffy, as was his nose.

“Hey, you don’t look great. You wanna come in?” you asked hesitantly, knowing he was still upset about the match but not wanting to let on that you knew, but also not wanting to remind him of it by making him say why he was upset.

“Actually, you mind walking with me to the store? It’s kind of late and I don’t want to get stabbed.” Oikawa says, letting out a half-hearted laugh and a forced smile. He was trying to hide the pain.

You gave a half-smile in return. 

“Sure.”

You quickly wrote a note for your parents about where you were going, and walked outside, sliding the front door closed.

After a few minutes of unusually awkward silence, you finally speak up just as the convenience store comes into view.

"So... did you wanna talk or someth-”

“I saw you.” the brunette says. There’s no doubt or hesitance. It’s not a question, it’s a stating of a fact. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to play dumb.

“I saw you dragging your sister through the crowd after the match. I’d know you both anywhere.” he stated.

You sighed, knowing that the jig was up.

“How much of the game did you see?” he asked, not looking at you.

“All of it.” you say plainly. There was no point trying to deny it.

By the time the words leave your mouth, you both are at the entrance. Oikawa opens the door for you silently, which you step through and quietly thank him.

“So you saw everything?” he asked once inside and after nodding at the lone employee behind the counter who had looked up only to see you two and wave kindly before returning to their book.

“Yeah. I did.” you reply.

Oikawa then makes his way to the back of the store, over to his favourite corner which held his precious milk bread and was close to the freezer section filled with ice-cream.

You eye Toru as he remains quiet. His uncharacteristic sullenness being so foreign to you.

Without a sound, you come from behind and hug him.

You feel him freeze before his muscles relax and he turns around bend down and hug you properly.

You feel small drops of liquid soak into the fabric of your clothed shoulder, but don’t say anything. You just keep holding tightly to the boy before you. Eventually, his body gave in, and you both slowly descended to the floor, still embracing the other.

You hear his almost inaudible whimpers and you begin to pat his head gently, whispering words of encouragement.

“It’s ok. You did everything you could. You gave it everything you had. You did so well out there.” you said softly, hoping that you could bring the brown-eyed male some comfort.

It took a few minutes for the boy’s quiet sobs to die down. When they did, he pulled away, only to nuzzle back into your embrace as he re-encircled your form in his arms.

“You mind if we just stay here?” he asked, though it sounded more like a plea.

You chuckled a bit. “As in on the floor of the convenience store?”

Toru nodded. “Just for a bit longer. I like it here.” he stated in a gentle tone.

You smiled softly as you held him closer. “Me too.”

-THE END-

A/N: I was working on this on and off for a few months, and I swear, this gave me so much trouble at first, and now I’m finishing it, even though I have work first thing in the morning!! Anyway, hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading this!