#what the hell could she possibly even say about me

[imaginespazzi]

Part 10: The Bridges Burned Around Us

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Be good to me, and I'll be good to you (but please don't be too good to be true)

(In which an apologetic writer finally finishes a chapter that took much longer than necessary)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 10.2K (seems fitting for chapter 10 lol)

TW: Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies :) I am so incredibly late with this I know but considering it's really the length of two chapters, I think I should be forgiven. Despite how long this took me, I don't really know how I feel about this chapter because it's both filler but also pretty important so honestly it does feel a little all over the place. But I hope y'all like it anyways. I do suggest quickly skimming over Part 2 before you read this just to jog your memory a little bit. I did edit as I always do but there's probably typos/mistakes, so feel free to point those out. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a wonderful weekend my loves <3

May 2033

“What the hell Bueckers?” Coach yells, glaring daggers at Paige who has the audacity to at least look a little embarrassed as she reaches a hand to help the rookie she’d just knocked over with far too much unnecessary force. Azzi narrows her eyes at the scene, confused at Paige’s atypical behavior. It wasn’t uncommon for the vets to rib the rookies a little bit, hell they had a whole ragging initiation ceremony planned for this weekend to welcome the newest members of their team, but Paige seemed to have a personal vendetta against Angie Davis.

When they’d watched the draft together, Azzi could’ve seen sworn she’d seen a flash of uncomfortableness flicker in Paige’s eyes as the commissioner announced that the Valkyries, with their third pick acquired via Atlanta, were picking Angie Davis from Stanford University. The blonde had stiffened but only for a split second and Azzi had chalked it up to nothing because really, what beef could Paige possibly have with a 22 year old? Except clearly something was bothering the Minnesota native because this is the fifth time today itself that Paige has fouled the girl so hard that her body had almost slightly bounced as it hit the floor. 

The first time, everyone had found it amusing because who didn’t laugh at a rookie getting a taste of the league. The second time, Coach had rolled her eyes but the rest of the team had still found it pretty funny. And then as it continued, Azzi could tell her teammates were just as confused by Paige’s behavior as she was. They might not know the blonde as well as Azzi did, but in the last month or so they’d discover that the basketball superstar was really just a ball of golden retriever energy. Since they’d started training camp recently, they’d seen that Paige always practiced hard but she also had the time of her life doing it. They’d seen that she might practically bulldoze her teammates in her eagerness to be a good defender but she’d always be the first one to help pick them up with a teasing grin on her face right after. Except apparently not with Angie. With Angie, there was nothing but brute force and the first couple of times, before Coach’s clear irritation had started to seep onto her face, Paige hadn’t even bothered helping the rookie up. And although Azzi would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that a part of her found this aggressive display of strength just a tad bit attractive, she also knew it was completely unlike her Paige to be acting like this. 

“So,” she says softly, lowering her voice purposefully as she sidles up to Paige in the locker room after practice, “are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” there’s a smirk on Paige’s face as she takes a step closer towards Azzi. 

The brunette narrows her eyes, “you know what.”

“What I know,” Paige whispers as she ghosts her hands across Azzi’s hips, keeping her movement innocuous as to not alert their other teammates who are engrossed in conversation not too far away from them, “is that I’m pretty sure you’re just looking for a way to get close to me.” 

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” but she can’t stop the faint blush that’s creeping up  her cheeks as Paige’s hot breath fans across her face and her gaze shifts to the blonde’s sweat sheened biceps that are on fully display under her flimsy tank top. 

Paige notices it immediately as her smirk widens, “appreciating the view baby?”

“Shut up,” Azzi shoves her back lightly, “don’t try and distract me.”

“‘I’m not even trying. I just have that effect on you,” Paige shrugs coyly as she pushes herself back into Azzi’s space.

The brunette’s eyes dart over to her teammate for a brief second, making sure the rest of them are still occupied with their own conversations as she takes her own step towards the blue-eyed woman, the edges of her lips turning up into a smug grin when she hears Paige’s breath hitch, “and what about the effect I have on you?”

There’s something thrilling about hiding this from their team, something sexy about having to keep their hands to themselves when they’re constantly desperate to touch. It was torture in a way, having Paige so close and not being able to kiss her or hold her. But that only meant that when Azzi did finally get to do all of those things, it felt like finally coming up for air; like after being deprived of her oxygen for so long, she could finally breathe. 

Last time around, they’d kept it a secret from the world but everyone who meant something to them had known. Their old teammates for one. This time, especially since they hadn’t quite defined what this was, they’d chosen to keep it even closer to their chests. It had been Paige’s idea this time and Azzi thinks maybe she’d proposed it just to beat the brunette to the punch-maybe she’d even been a little disappointed by it- but she thinks that they probably do need a little more time; a little more time to trust that this time they wouldn’t go up in flames, that they wouldn’t burn everyone else around them. 

“You don’t- you don’t have any effect on me,” Paige stutters. 

“Is that right?” Azzi asks coyly, taking her shirt off at a ridiculous slow pace, enjoying the way blonde’s eyes are immediately drawn towards her toned abs, “none at all?” 

“N-no,” Paige gulps as she watches the brunette finally get rid of the offending t-shirt and she’s left in nothing but a sports bra that does little to hide the curves underneath. 

“Appreciating the view baby?”  Azzi smirks, repeating the older woman’s words from before she slyly runs her index finger across the purplish red hues of a hickey Paige had left on her collarbone from the night before. 

“You’re so-”

“Bueckers,” a loud voice interrupts Paige’s groan as the two of them spring apart, everyone in the room turning to look at their Coach leaning against the doorframe, “in my office. Now.”

It feels a little bit like they’re college students being reprimanded again but there’s this nagging intuition in Azzi’s gut, as she watched Paige sheepishly follow Coach into her office, that she’s missing out on some important information. Something churns in her stomach at the thought of it. Things had been near perfect so far; they were climbing back up to what they had been, maybe climbing their way to something better but Azzi thinks that if another gust of circumstance tries to shove them down again, they might not be able to get back up this time. Because this time, they’re not climbing alone. This time, they have Stephie and at the end of the day, she’s all that matters. 

“So is Paige’s car broken or something?” Tessa’s question catches Azzi off guard as she shakes herself out of head and looks at her teammate with confusion. 

“Uh no why?”

“I mean it’s just every time she shows up somewhere, it seems she’s in your car, with you. So I just figured something must be up with her car, why else would y’all be carpooling literally every single day unless-” there’s a sparkle in Tessa’s eyes as she leans casually against her locks, “unless there’s another reason?”

“What other reason could there be?” Azzi’s voice is unusually high-pitched as she avoids Tessa’s perceptive eyes and instead glares daggers at a spluttering Jana, “her car’s in the shop. That’s it. That’s definitely it. That’s the only reason I’m driving her around.”

“Aw that sucks,” Laila says with an oblivious empathetic smile, “I mean we could help out if that’s the case? With carpooling.”

“I don’t think-”

“What a lovely idea Phelia,” Tessa smirks and Azzi knows just by how guileful it is, that the former Gamecock is absolutely onto them, “what do you think Azzi? Maybe we can make a little chart for who drives Paige to practice huh? Be welcoming to our teammate?”

Resisting the urge to flip off both Tessa and Jana whose shoulders are shaking with laughter, Azzi settles on a sugary sweet smile instead, “I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Oh we’d be happy to help,” Tessa chirps happily and Azzi’s suddenly wistful for the moment back in her senior year when she’d dropped the South Carolina guard for an easy layup. 

“And that’s very kind of y’all but,” she reaches over to squeeze the younger girl’s shoulder tightly, making her grunt in discomfort, “I think Paige is okay. It just works better if it’s one person. Less complications, you know?”

“Won’t somebody please think about the complications,” Jana snickers. 

“I’m so confused,” Laila says, a frown on her face as she looks weirdly at her teammates. 

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says shrilly as she slings both her and Paige’s bags on her shoulders, rolling her eyes when both Jana and Tessa giggle at the domesticity of the action, “don’t worry about it, Phelia.”

“Y’all are acting strange,” Laila shrugs as she starts to make her way out of the locker room and Azzi’s rounds on the other two women. 

“Whatever you think you know Tess,” Azzi raises a finger in warning, “keep it to yourself.”

Tessa makes a point to make a zipping motion across her lips as her eyes glimmer with mischief. 

“Thank god,” Jana gasps dramatically, “I was so tired of having to deal with these two all by myself. Do you know how hard it is Tess? I’ve been doing it for YEARS.”

“You poor soul,” Tessa coos, “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you. They’re kind of disgusting.”

“You peeped that already? Damn Azzi, do you realize how sickening y’all must be for Tessa to have already figured it out?”

“No forreal,” Tessa teases, “if you don’t want people catching onto your shit, I suggest y’all stop eyefucking every other second.”

“Fuck all the way off. Both of you,” Azzi grunts as Jana practically howls with laughter.

“You kiss your daughter with that mouth Fudd?”

“I dunno about Stephie,” Tessa drops her voice so only Jana and Azzi can hear her, “but I bet she kisses Paige with that mouth huh Az?”

Azzi groans, hiding her bright red face in her hands as her teammates' jovial laughter echoes through the locker room.

*** 

Paige is eerily quiet as she climbs into the passenger seat and Azzi knows immediately by the way she doesn’t try to coax her way into driving, that whatever conversation she’d had with Coach, likely hadn’t been a pleasant one. There are a thousand and one questions taking birth in her mind but Azzi doesn’t voice any of them, knowing Paige isn’t ready to answer them. Instead, she laces her fingers through Paige’s, resting them on the other girl's lap as she rubs a soothing circle against the back of her hand, a promise of whenever you’re ready to share, i’ll be ready to listen. 

They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, one driven by that fact Paige has practically moved into Azzi’s house at this point. Their day started with them dropping Stephie off at school before the two of them would go to training or practice or whatever basketball activities they had planned. Then, they’d go to pick up Stephie from school and Azzi would drop her and Paige off at Curry camp while she ran various errands before circling back to pick them up. It’s domestic as hell and there’s a part of Azzi that’s still a little fearful; perhaps they’re trying to fit the puzzle pieces of their separate lives into each other a little too quickly. But she thinks that maybe those puzzle pieces had never really been disconnected, because sometimes she thinks their existence might just be an extension of each other’s. 

“You know,” Azzi begins softly when it becomes abundantly clear Paige isn’t going to speak first, “I’m okay with the fact that you’ve probably fucked other people. I mean other than the woman you married as well that is.”

“What the fuck?” Paige’s head whips towards her so quick, it must hurt just a little bit, “where the fuck did that come from?”

Azzi shrugs, “I’m just saying-”

“Why are you just saying?” Paige's eyes widen in panic as she possessively tightens her grip on the brunette’s hand, “are you about to tell me about someone you hooked up with? Because I’mma be honest Azzi I’d rather jump out of this moving car then hear about some whore who had the audacity-”

“Audacity? You do realize I was-”

“Say you were single and I actually will jump out of the car,” Paige warns, “but no actually dude what the fuck?”

“Well you see,” Azzi says carefully, “I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a bitch to our new rookie and after careful deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s gotta be a hookup gone wrong because why the fuck else would Paige Bueckers, who has a hard time killing a spider, be so unnecessarily mean to this poor girl?” 

There’s silence in the car for a second as Paige opens and closes her mouth, unable to get a word out, until she doubles over laughing, the sound of it echoing all around them. Azzi can’t help the soft grin that flitters across her face, relieved at seeing the way the tension begins to dissipate from the blonde’s shoulders. And Azzi swears that when Paige laughs, it feels a little bit like the sun has come out again; like the flowers are blooming and birds are chirping and everything is right in the world again and she thinks the sun should probably be jealous of the warmth Paige exudes because at least against the silhouette of Azzi’s sky, Paige burns brighter than the sun ever will. 

“You-you think I fucked Angie?” Paige finally manages to splutter out between peals of laughs, “baby she’s barely 22.”

“Hey,” Azzi pouts, “you always did go for younger women. Like me for example.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “you’re literally one year younger than me.”

“One year and a couple of days,” Azzi corrects. 

Rolling her eyes Paige uses both hands to hold Azzi’s non-driving one, “Azzi I swear to you that I have never in my life hooked up with Angie fucking Davis.”

“I know,” Azzi confesses, eyes still focused on the road ahead of her, “so what exactly is your problem with her then Paige?”

“You couldn’t have just asked me that?”

Azzi shrugs, “felt like I needed to make you laugh first. So tell me Bueckers-” before she can continue, she feels lips being pressed to her cheeks and can’t help the crimson tinge it elicits on her face, “what- what was that for?”

“Because you’re a little bit of a sap and I’m glad you’re my sap,” Paige grins, “all mine.”

“You’re trying to change the topic.”

“I am not.”

“Paige.”

The blonde sighs, leaning her head back against the headrest, “can we talk about it tonight? I wanna tell you I promise- I just- I think we need to sit down so that I- I can explain it to you properly.”

“That feels ominous,” Azzi’s stomach clenches at the seriousness in Paige’s voice as she turns onto the street for Stephie’s school, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Paige says firmly, bringing their enclosed hands to her mouth so she can brush a kiss across Azzi’s knuckles, “it’s nothing we can’t get through.”

Azzi nods as she pulls into the school parking lot, mustering up a reassuring smile of her own as she squeezes Paige’s hand. But there’s still a speck of fear dancing around in her gut; it’s this constant fear of losing Paige again that she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly be able to sweep out of her system. They’ve been doing so good these last few weeks -like they’re collecting together the scattered pages of everything we used to be and binding them back together with strings of all that we can become- but sometimes Azzi finds herself afraid that it might all just disappear, that a gust of wind might blow everything out of her hands all over again. 

“HI MAMA. HI MISS BUECKS,” she’s shaken from her thoughts by the backdoor opening as Stephie barrels into the car, the happiness in her voice contagious as she leans over the console to kiss Azzi and then Paige, before hanging between them and tapping at her own cheeks. The two adults laugh as they simultaneously press their lips to the little girl's cheeks, causing her dimples to deepen as she giggles between them. 

“How was school Stephie-bean?” Paige asks, peering over her own shoulder to make sure Stephie buckles herself in correctly as Azzi backs the car out. 

Stephie scrunches up her nose is distaste, “it’s school Miss Buecks. It was so boring. Except for lunch. Lunch was great. I love lunch.”

“You’re so real Steph,” Paige nods seriously, “lunch is the best and school is so bor-”

“Paige!”

“C’mon Az, I’m not gonna lie to the kid.”

“Exactly Mama,” Stephie chimes in loyally from the backseat, “lying is bad.”

Azzi rolls her eyes as Paige twists her hand to hold it out for Stephie to high-five it from the backseat, “the two of you are insufferable.”

“What does that mean?” Stephie asks, tilting her head in confusion. 

“It means we’re her most favorite people in the world,” Paige winks at the little girl as Azzi shakes her head fondly, choosing to keep the you’re more than that, you two are the reason my world keeps turning that tastes sugary sweet on the tip of her tongue to herself as she continues to drive. 

“What do y’all want for dinner?” she asks instead, ready to make a mental note of ingredients she might need to pick up from the grocery store while Paige and Stephie are at Curry Camp. 

“Actually,” there’s a slight nervous lilt to Paige’s voice and when Azzi looks over, she finds the older woman fidgeting anxiously with her thumbs, “I was thinking that maybe um- maybe y’all could come over to mine tonight? Maybe I can cook?”

They haven’t stayed at Paige’s since that first disastrous night. It hadn’t been on purpose per say; it was simply just easier to stay at Azzi’s, especially with Stephie to consider but perhaps a part of it had been subconscious self-preservation on the younger girl's part. Something about sleeping over at Paige’s feels more purposeful; like she’s fully letting herself step back into the other’s girl world and this time with the promise to not run away in the morning. It’s scary but when Azzi sees the hopeful look on Paige’s face as the blonde bites her lips, she thinks it’s worth it to take the leap; she’s ready for it. 

“I think that would be nice,” she says with a soft smile, “I’ll pick up some clothes for Stephie while y’all are at camp.”

Paige beams and Azzi can tell she’s itching to lean over to grab her hand or kiss her touch her in any way but there’s still the little fact they still haven’t quite told Stephie anything about them yet that stops her from doing any of the above. 

“What do you think of that Stephie bean? You wanna have a sleepover at my place tonight?” she redirects her attention to the little girl instead. 

“YES PLEASE,” Stephie squeals, practically bouncing on her car seat before a frown crosses her forehead, “but um-” she hesitates, “you um- you can’t cook Miss Buecks.”

Azzi bursts into a laughter as an offended look clouds Paige’s face, “excuse me? I absolutely can cook.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says, her condescension-filled tone as adult as she can make it be, “you burned my eggs three times this week and then Mama had to make them all over again and we were almost late for school,” the little girl smirks through her ramble, “but that’s okay because I don’t mind being late for school because like I said school is really boring.”

“Okay but what about the one time I didn’t burn the eggs?” Paige haughtily crosses her arms over chest, “have we all just forgotten about that?”

“Pretty sure they were a little undercooked and saltless that one time-OW,” Azzi’s snicker is cut off by a pinch to her stomach, “do you want me to crash the car woman?”

Paige ignores her, turning back to look at Stephie with a betrayed expression, “you said you liked them?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feeling Miss Buecks,” the little girl wails and Azzi feels a mix of pride and love bloom in her heart at the kind soul she’s raised, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I just-” Stephie reaches as far as her seatbelt will allow to cup Paige’s hand in her tiny hands, “I really don’t think you should cook Miss Buecks.Please. I don’t wanna die yet. I’m too cute to die.”

“You know what Stephie bean,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, “I think you might be even more of a drama queen than me-”

“Don’t sound so proud,” Azzi mutters under her breath. 

“Shhh,” Paige chastises, never looking away from Stephie, “but alright sweetheart. I won’t cook. How about we order pizza?”

Stephie lets out a delighted cheer as Azzi grumbles, “more junk food? I swear to god Bueckers you’re completely ruining her diet.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m finally fixing it. You poor thing,” Paige coos at Stephie dramatically, “I bet your Mama was torturing you with nasty green things all day every day before me huh?”

“No no no Miss Buecks, veggies are good for you,” Stephie recites loyally and Azzi grins triumphantly at Paige. 

“Oh dear Stephie you’ve been brainwashed-”

“Excuse me? Don’t try to corrupt my child out of her good habits.”

“I’m not corrupting her,” Paige defends as Azzi makes a left turn into the parking lot for Curry Camp, “I’m just teaching her the wonders of grease and oil and all the other fun things that adults lie are bad for you.”

“Paige you are an adult.”

“But a fun one,” Paige smirks, waggling her eyebrows at Stephie through the mirror as Azzi stops the car right outside the building, “right Stephie-bean?”

“The fun-est-est-est-est,” Stephie choruses back as she begins to unbuckle herself so she can latch onto her mother’s neck from behind. Paige takes the opportunity to climb out of the car so she can grab Stephie’s sports bag from where it’s kept in the trunk.

“You be good for Miss Buecks and Uncle Twin at camp today okay?” Azzi whispers to the little girl, “and I better hear that you made all your shots.”

Stephie scoffs, “you know I never miss Mama.”

“That’s my girl,” Azzi grins as she nuzzles her nose against the little girl’s before Paige opens the backdoor and Stephie unlatches herself from her mother, only so she can go barrelling into the older woman’s arms instead, “Stephie-bean you know you can walk.”

“But Mama,” Stephie whines, wrapping her hands tightly around Paige’s neck, “I’m too tired to walk-”

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs. 

“You don’t mind carrying me, do you Miss Buecks?”

“Of course not,” Paige grins, “whatever you want sweetheart.”

Stephie looks pointedly at Azzi, “see Mama? Miss Buecks doesn’t mind.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Azzi shakes her head, “alright off you two go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Bye Mama,” Stephie waves, “hurry back okay? We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys too,” Azzi says warmly, blowing a kiss at both of them. 

It’s uncanny how similar the two of them are, when both Stephie and Paige make a show of catching the kiss and bringing it to their heart before looking at each other and giggling over their own silliness. It makes Azzi’s heartache in the best way possible. And as she watches the two of them start walking up the stairs, Stephie rambling and Paige hanging onto every word, she thinks that as long as life gives her the two of them, she’ll never ask for anything else. 

***

The first thing Azzi notices when she walks into the gym, arriving a little before camp finishes so she can say hi to her mentor, is Stephie sulking as she glares at Paige from the other side of the court. Confused, because it’s rare to see her daughter looking at the other woman with anything but pure adulation, Azzi follows the little girl’s line of sight to see what could possibly have upset her. A fond smile crosses her face as she sees Paige crowded by a bunch of children, all of them watching the superstar with wonder as she demonstrates her shooting technique. Paige swishes the ball into the basket and one would think she’d just scored the game-winning shot in the finals, by the way the gaggle of kids around her let out enthused cheers. 

The blonde has always had this aura that draws people to her -Azzi would know; she’d been one of the first people to succumb to it (not that she’d put up much of a fight)- but there’s something different about the charisma Paige has with kids. Perhaps it’s because of her own childlike innocence that’s still intact despite her age, but it’s clear that the little ones adore her. Azzi watches as one of the little girls animatedly tries to mimic what Paige had just demonstrated, looking upset when the basketball barely touches the rim. 

“I’m never gonna make a basket,” she hears the girl pout. 

Paige ruffles the kid’s hair before lifting her up onto her lap, “of course you are. You just needed a little bit more height. Here try again,” she says as she urges the girl to shoot again now that she’s higher off the ground. This time the ball falls magnificently through the hoop and the child whoops. 

“OH MY GOD COACH P I DID IT,” she squeals, hiding her face in Paige’s neck and while Azzi finds the whole thing quite adorable, when she looks over, she realizes that clearly Stephie is not nearly amused as she watches her daughter’s face transform into a scowl. 

“Riley and Ryan used to make the same face any time I gave another little girl too much of my time,” Azzi grins as Steph appears by her side, the former Warriors guard bumping her shoulder as a sign of greeting, “I split the kids into groups, half with Paige and half with me. Kept Stephie with me cause you know I thought I was her favorite but she’s been glaring at all the kids with Paige this whole time.”

“She’s uh- she’s a little possessive,” Azzi chuckles, eyes still on her daughter who finally looks away from Paige, before angrily shooting the ball at the lowered basket in front of her. 

“NICE SHOT TWIN NIECE,” Steph cheers as Stephie makes the shot, the little girl’s face unmoving as she gathers the ball back and gets ready to shoot again. Sometimes Azzi thinks, as she claps with pride, her daughter’s laser-focus attitude might rival her own. Maybe it’s a mother’s bias -she’d call it intuition- but she’s certain Stephie’s going to be a basketball phenomenon one day. 

“That was so pretty Stephie-bean,” Paige is beaming as she approaches Stephie, the little girl from before holding her hand, “you think you can show Claudia here how you get that arc on it?”

“No thank you Coach Bueckers,” Stephie’s voice is perfectly polite as she makes a point to not look at the two people who’ve just entered her space, but Azzi catches the split second when her gaze shifts irritatedly to the way Claudia’s hanging off of Paige, “I’m a little busy right now. Maybe another time.”

“Oh she’s good,” Steph whistles lowly as Paige’s mouth falls open at not being referred to as Miss Buecks, “she’s gonna have Paige groveling after camp I bet. She’s gonna get whatever treat she wants.” 

Azzi groans, “that is not a good thing. Do you know how much junk food she manipulates Paige into getting her?”

Steph laughs, “she spoils her huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Azzi mutters but there’s a wistful grin on her face, “It’s part of why Stephie adores her so much cause she knows Paige would give her the world if she could.”

“I don’t think it’s just Stephie who adores her,” Steph bumps his shoulder against her and Azzi blanches at the knowing tone in his voice. 

“That’s not- I mean- I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” she stutters out. 

Steph rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, “oh come off it Az. It was obvious when y’all were kids and it’s still obvious now.”

“When we were- you knew?” 

“Of course I knew,” Steph scoffs, “I’ve been married for more than 20 years to the same girl I fell in love with at 15 years old Az, I know a thing or two about what love looks like. Of course I knew.”

“I’m just getting clocked left right and center today what the hell,” she grumbles but there’s a part of her that’s slightly relieved about the people around them slowly figuring it out. She thinks she should maybe be a little more embarrassed about how obvious they apparently are -have supposedly always been- but honestly she kind of loves that their love is so bright, that it’s impossible to not see it. 

Love. The word sends a shiver through Azzi. It’s not a foreign feeling to her at all, especially not when it comes to Paige. If she’s honest with herself, it’s a feeling that has never left. She’d tried as hard as she could; shoving it underneath a rock of you’re not allowed to feel this way that weighed heavily against her chest. But it had always been there and as soon as Paige had waltzed her way back into Azzi’s life, the blonde seemed to have found a way to shovel it right back out. And that four-letter-word isn’t buried anymore; it’s right there on the tip of her tongue and every time Paige smiles at her -eyes crinkling with only for you-, Azzi’s this close to let it slip through her lips. She’s just waiting for the right time.

“Hey Stephie-bean can I fix your form a little bit,” her attention is drawn back to her surroundings as she watches Paige try to get Stephie to look at her again but her daughter is nothing if not stubborn. 

“That’s okay. It’s almost time to go home and I’m sure Uncle Twin can help me with my form Coach Bueckers,” the little girl says contemptuously to a gobsmacked Paige before gesturing at Claudia, “how about you just keep helping her instead.”

“Sheesh that’s one petty kid you’ve got there Fudd,” Steph remarks before stepping to the front of the court and blowing his whistle, “alright y’all it’s 5 o’clock. Great job today! I hope you guys had a lot of fun and learned some good stuff and I’ll see y’all back here tomorrow!”

The former player diligently high-fives all the kids before they disperse towards their awaiting parents. Azzi can tell Stephie’s still irritated when the little girl barely hugs Steph, shaking herself out of her Uncle’s arms much quicker than she normally would as she all but stomps her way to her mother. 

“Woah there Stephie-bean,” Azzi says gently, falling to her knees in front of her daughter, “what’s wrong?”

Stephie pouts miserably, “I’m mad at Miss Buecks. She’s been helping other kids this whole time.”

Azzi has to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling, amused by the child’s dramatics, “baby you know that’s Miss Buecks’s job right? She’s here to coach all the kids.”

If possible, Stephie’s frown deepens as she kicks her feet stubbornly, “she can coach them,” she says matter-of-factly, “but why does she have to carry them and give them hugs. She should only do that with me.”

“Stephie-”

“And camp is over now and she’s still with stupid Claudia,” Stephie whines as she uses her hand to turn Azzi’s face towards Paige, “see?”

The we don’t call people stupid lesson that she was just about to give her daughter dies on Azzi’s lips as her eyes fixate on where a stupid pretty young woman who she knows to be Claudia’s mother is staring up at Paige with a stupid flirty smile. Azzi has no idea what the blonde is saying, but she’s sure it can’t be that funny to make the woman tilt her head back in laughter, left hand reaching out to flick Paige’s bicep and lingering far longer than necessary. 

“You know what Stephie-bean I think it’s time to home,” and really she feels just a little guilty with how she’s about to use her clearly upset daughter, “how about you go call Miss Buecks over.”

That’s all it takes to get Stephie running towards her and Azzi follows cautiously behind, only getting further irritated at how Claudia’s mother seems determined to step closer and closer to Paige and the clueless blonde does absolutely nothing to stop it, continuing to smile politely at the other woman. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie comes to a halt in front of Paige, interrupting whatever conversation was going on as she practically forces herself in between the two women, “Mama says it’s time to go home.”

Despite the jealousy simmering her heart, Azzi can’t help that her heart skips a beat at the way Paige’s whole face brightens up at seeing Stephie; clearly relieved at the little girl using her nickname again. 

“Give me one second sweetheart. I’m just a little busy talking to Claudia and her mother-”

“Mama,” Stephie says loudly, cutting Paige off as she turns to Azzi, “do you know if Aunty Chérie is in town?”

“Um- I- uh-” the brunette stutters, not having expected her little girl to bring that up as her gaze flickers towards a frozen Paige whose smile is completely gone, her body going rigid at the mention of Clémence.

“I was just thinking,” Stephie barrels on casually, “maybe we could go see her and she could give me cuddles and kisses since app-ently Miss Buecks is too busy to give them to me-”

The little girl cuts herself off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and into Paige’s arms; the blonde peppering her lips against every inch of Stephie’s face. 

“Never ever too busy for you and I’m especially never too busy to give you kisses Stephie-bean.”

“Promise,” Stephie holds out her pinky finger and Paige diligently intertwines her own through it, pressing a kiss to their now interlocked pinkies. 

“Promise.”

Shaking her head fondly at her menace daughter’s antiques, Azzi fixes Claudia’s mother with a sweetly saccharine smile as she wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep. She can feel the blonde’s eyes immediately drift towards her, clearly a little thrown off by her forwardness. It had been Azzi’s go-to-move in college whenever Paige’s fanclub would get a little too handsy. She’d sidle up into her girlfriend’s space, marking her territory as subtly as possible. Azzi knows this is a little different. It had been easier back then to play the action off as a protective best friend  warding off boundary-less fans; really it was uncanny the things two girls could get away with under the guise of friendship. But it’s different now that they’re actual adults and she can see the clogs running Claudia’s mother’s head as she starts to piece everything together. 

“Hi I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Stephie’s mom, Azzi, nice to meet you,” Azzi says finally, holding out her hand that isn’t still clasped firmly around Paige’s bicep, “I think it’s usually your husband who picks Claudia up from camp right?”

“I’m Stacie,” the woman says, primly returning the handshake, “yeah my husband’s usually the one who picks her up but I had a little time today-”

“Don’t lie Mommy. I heard you on the phone saying you wanted to come pick me up so you could meet Coach Bueckers-”

“Claudia,” Stacie hisses as Azzi narrows her eyes at the woman. 

“You said it’s cause you think she’s really hot-” Claudia manages to get out before her mother furiously clamps her hand over her mouth. 

“Azzi,” Paige whispers under her breath, wincing slightly as the shooting guard unconsciously tightens her grip, unable to keep the irritation of her face as she all but glares at Claudia’s mother. 

“You know kids, they say anything,” Stacie tries to justify, cowering under the sintering heat of Azzi’s stare. 

“Right,” the brunette nods with faux understanding, “well if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time for us to go unless-” she turns her gaze onto Paige who looks innocently back at her as she hides a smile against Stephie’s stomach, “unless you’re still busy that is?”

Paige shakes her head affectionately as she tugs her arm out of Azzi’s grip, only so she can lock their pinkies together, the angle of it just out of Stephie’s line of sight, “never too busy for you,” she repeats, “let’s go.”

*** 

“Mama, will you tell Miss Buecks that I’m not speaking to her,” Stephie says as soon as the three of them get settled into the car. 

“What,” Paige shrieks, twisting her head around to look at the little girl who decisively looks away, her tiny hands crossed over her chest. 

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, stretching her legs out in the passenger seat; Paige had insisted on driving this time and she hadn’t bothered fighting against it, “babes I thought you’d gotten over it? You were literally just talking to her.”

“That’s cause I forgot I was mad when Miss Buecks gave me my kisses but I rem-ber now,” Stephie explains. 

“Remember what?” Paige asks frantically, “Stephie-bean what did I do?”

The little girl in question makes it a point to turn her nose up and look directly at Azzi as she answers, “Mama will you tell Miss Buecks that she knows what she did.”

“I really, really don’t. Stephie sweetheart please tell me so I can fix it,” Paige tries again, and Azzi lets herself marvel at how the normally jittery-woman seems to have endless patience for her little girl. 

“YOU GAVE THE OTHER KIDS HIGH FIVES AND CUDDLES AND HUGS AND YOU EVEN LET CLAUDIA ONTO YOUR LAP,” Stephie bursts out emphatically, “you’re not supposed to do that with anyone but ME.”

“I-” Paige looks over helplessly at Azzi who holds her hands up in surrender, determined not to get in between the two of them and their dramatics. 

“You didn’t even ask Uncle Twin to let me be on your team,” Stephie accuses and then like she’s suddenly remembered that she’d made a bold assertion a couple of minutes ago, “Mama could you please tell Miss Buecks that I said all of that.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I have a feeling she might have heard you.”

“Did you like the other kid’s hugs more than you like mine?” the little girl prods, her eyes suddenly glimmering with tears. 

“Oh sweetheart of course not,” Paige consoles immediately, “I could never like anyone’s hugs more than yours, you know that. Your hugs are the best things in the whole wide world. And Stephie-bean, I thought you wanted to be with Uncle Twin, you said you missed him.”

“Wanted to be with you more,” Stephie pouts stubbornly, “I don’t wanna share my Miss Buecks with the other kids. I don’t want you to hug them or carry them and you definitely can’t give them kisses.”

“I didn’t even give any of them kisses,” Paige protests. 

“Stephie, Miss Buecks is a person, not an object. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss-” Azzi tries to explain but is almost immediately interrupted by Stephie who gives her an unamused look. 

“Well is she allowed to hug and carry and kiss Claudia’s Mama then?”

Azzi’s mouth falls open as Paige barely holds in her chuckle at the little girl’s cheeky question, “she absolutely is not allowed to do that.”

“Exactly,” there’s a satisfied grin on Stephie's face as she takes in the still dumbfounded expression on her mother’s face. 

“I just- I meant the kids. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss the kids-”

“NO SHE’S NOT.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Paige moves her hands up and down in a calming gesture before she reaches for Stephie hands, “how about this? From now on, I won’t carry any of the other kids and I definitely won’t give them any kisses. But can I at least give them one hug? Just one tiny little hug?”

Stephie ponders over the request for a second, “okay,” she agrees finally, “but only one hug and it can’t be longer than three seconds okay? And then you come and give me three of them right after?”

“Done. I’ll come give you five hugs right after,” Paige grins happily as the two of them shake on it before she turns back around to start driving them towards her house.  

“Mama you can tell Miss Buecks that I’m speaking to her again,” Stephie smiles toothily at Azzi through the rearview mirror. 

“Really?” Azzi responds sarcastically, “I couldn't have guessed.”

“You know,” Paige drops her voice so Stephie can’t hear them, “you’re being pretty sassy for someone who was just as irrationally jealous as a five year old a couple of minutes ago.”

“I was not jealous,” Azzi says indignantly, repeating herself when Paige’s smirk deepens, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Paige, I was absolutely not jealous.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige hums quietly as she turns the music up in the car, grinning at Stephie through the mirror when one of their new favorites comes on. 

Azzi preemptively covers her ears as her soft “oh please don’t start singing-” is immediately drowned out by the two other people in the car beginning to sing at the top of their voices. They barely know the lyrics and they’re definitely not on key and really Azzi’s poor ears are bleeding, but as she’s coerced into reluctantly joining in, she thinks this could still be her favorite sound in the whole wide world. 

They’re so enthralled in their cacophony -in each other- as they pull up to Paige’s house, that it takes them a far longer than it should to notice the figure on her porch. It isn’t until they’ve parked in the driveway, and Azzi’s gone around to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag from the back while Paige lifts Stephie onto her shoulders, and they’re finally making their way up the three steps that lead to the deck, that they finally do. 

All chatter comes to a halt as the boy -well that’s not quite right; not when he towers over Paige and Azzi as he stands up from where he’d been sitting on the lawn chair. It’s been almost four years since she’d last seen him in person and even then he’d been a fleeting face in the crowd. She’s seen plenty of his clips from the rookie year he’d just finished in the NBA but it isn’t the same as seeing him in the flesh now. So much has changed; the baby fat is gone from his face, he’s lankier and longer and there’s a discernible aura of confidence around him; as is expected from a 20 year old man. Yet, as Azzi lets her gaze wander over him, she sees what she’s always seen. She sees that same innocence, that same kindness, that same drive in his eyes that she’d always found reflected in his sister’s eyes too. She looks at him and she still sees a mini version of her Paige. 

*** 

October 2022 

“AZZI,” Drew screams as he runs across the arrival gate, his carry-on suitcase practically abandoned for the flight attendant with him to begrudgingly pick up. 

“DREW,” Azzi’s smile widens as the little boy comes to a halt in front of her, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, “oh my god you’ve gotten so much bigger little dude.”

Drew scrunches his nose up at her, “you literally saw me like a month ago.”

“And I think you might have doubled in size since,” she ruffles his hair before turning to the flight attendant who’s not so subtly checking her out, “thank you so much for getting him here safely.”

“Oh just doing my duty m’am, especially for a pretty lady like you,” the man says and Azzi winces at his dated flirting technique. 

“This is Azzi,” Drew introduces, irritation seeping into his voice as he tightens his grip on Azzi’s waist, “you know how I told you I’m flying out for my sister’s birthday, this is my sister’s girlfriend and it was her idea to fly me out to surprise my sister. Because you know she’s her girlfriend.”

“Right,” the man grimaces and Azzi has to bite back the laugh threatening to escape as he hastily hands Drew’s suitcase over before barely managing a half-hearted grin, “I um- uh- well I should get back to the uh- plane or something. Tell your- tell your sister happy birthday.”

“Thanks again,” Azzi calls after the man as he all but runs away from them, shaking her head fondly down at Drew who’s giggling into her side. 

“You think if I tell Paige he flirted with you, she’d get him fired?” he asks cheekily. 

“There’s a nonzero chance that she’d at least try,” Azzi agrees as the two of them start making their way out of the airport and towards her car. 

It’s a chilly fall morning and the sun has barely risen in the sky but Drew seems more awake than ever as he practically bounces into the passenger seat, clearly excited to see his sister who has no inkling that he’s coming. The idea had come to Azzi a week or so ago as she’d racked her head for ideas of what to do for Paige for her birthday. She’d done a good job putting up a front for the rest of their team -avidly cheering for them from the sidelines during practice- but Paige had been struggling these last couple of weeks. Azzi knows firsthand what it’s like to watch everyone else play the sport she loves while nursing her own injury and no matter how many i’m fine don’t worry about me spiels she got from her girlfriend, Azzi knew it was killing the point guard to not be out there with their team. 

If she could, Azzi would have liked to have miraculously fixed Paige’s torn ACL as her birthday gift but that was wishful thinking. So instead she’d decided on cheering Paige up with the other thing she loved more than playing basketball: spending time with her baby brother. It didn't take that much convincing to get Bob Bueckers -who’d seen just how despondent his daughter had been those first couple of weeks in that gloomy hotel- to allow Drew to take the first half of this week off of school. From then on, the main difficulty had been keeping it a secret from Paige who seemed to have sixth sense for when something was going on behind her back. It didn’t help that Drew had come close to spilling the beans more than a handful of times. But they’d somehow managed it and this morning, Azzi had rolled out of her girlfriend’s arms much earlier than she would have liked to, ready to give Paige the day she deserved. 

She glances at the clock. It’s almost 8 and Azzi knows that Paige is probably beginning to stir awake. She can almost picture the likely confusion on her girlfriend’s as she’d reach out for Azzi, only to find the spot next to her empty. As if on cue, the sound of a phone ringing vibrates around the car and Drew’s eyes light up at Paige’s name flashing on the media-board. 

“Don’t say a word,” Azzi warns him as she picks up the call. 

“WHAT THE HELL AZZI. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Paige’s irritated voice echoes throughout the car, “DO YOU KNOW HOW RUDE IT IS TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAKE UP ALONE IN THE MORNING? ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY?”

Despite Azzi’s warning, Drew snickers loud enough for the speakers to pick it up  and the brunette fights the urge to hit her head against the steering wheel when Paige lets out a dramatic gasp. 

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU WITH ANOTHER GIRL. ON MY BIRTHDAY?”

“No Paige I am not with another girl-”

“Well it sounds like there’s a girl with you.”

Drew opens his mouth to protest, clearly agitated with his voice potentially being mistaken for a girl’s but Azzi’s quicker, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“I am not with-”

“Wait. Why did that voice sound so familiar?” Paige asks and Azzi can picture her scrunching her nose through the phone, “it can’t be any of the girls. I think I saw all of them in their apartments while I was looking for you but it sounds so-”

“It’s no one,” Azzi says hurriedly, “I’m just picking up something for your birthday.”

“I don’t want anything for my birthday,” Paige grumbles, “just wanted to wake up to my beautiful gorgeous girlfriend but no, you couldn’t just let me have that.”

A soft blush, tinted with hues of you make my imperfection feel perfect, creeps up Azzi’s cheeks as Drew teasingly waggles his eyebrows at her, “I promise I have something even better for you.”

“What could possibly be better than morning se-”

“Celebratory cuddles. Right yes what could be better than morning celebratory cuddles,” Azzi babbles, ignoring the weird look Drew gives her as she tries to prevent them from falling in the ditch her girlfriend is unknowingly about throw them into, “oh my won’t you look at that, that sign has all the reasons I shouldn’t try to talk and drive.”

“Baby what? Are you having a stroke. That’s not a thing-

“Oh it totally is and I really have to hang up. Love you baby, see you soon!’

“Azzi-” a loud beep rings through Paige’s protests as Azzi rushes to cut the call, slumping back in her seat with a sigh. 

“Morning celebratory cuddles?” if she wasn’t so embarrassed she would laugh at the side-eye Drew shoots her, “y’all are so weird.”

“Watch it. I will send you back to Minnesota.”

“No you won't,” it’s uncanny how Drew has Paige’s exact smile as he goofily grins at her, “you love Paigey way too much to do that to me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, “yeah maybe just a little bit.” 

There’s peaceful silence in the car for a while as Drew leans back in his seat, looking thoughtfully out the window. Azzi feels excitement bubble in her stomach in anticipation for Paige’s reaction to seeing her little brother. For as long as she’s known her girlfriend, she’s always known just how special Drew is to her; he’d been more a child to her than a brother and although it hasn’t been that long since Paige has seen him, Azzi could still hear the wistfulness in her voice every night she’d said good-bye to him on the phone. She feels giddy just knowing that seeing Drew again will put that earnest, loving smile she loves so much on Paige’s face. That smile, Azzi thinks, might just be the reason her world keeps turning. 

“Hey Azzi?” Drew says slowly, “can I ask you something?”

“Course you can kid. You can ask me whatever you want,” Azzi reaches out to squeeze the little boy’s hand as he fidgets in his seat. 

“Do you-” he hesitates, sucking in a deep breath, “do you think two people can stay together forever?”

Azzi’s taken aback by the gravity of the question, not having expected to deal with heavy-hitting ones like this so early in the morning. And really the truth is Azzi doesn’t know how to answer this question. It’s the kind of question her own brain conjures up sometimes and she has to distract herself from the way it makes her heart constrict because what if two people can’t stay together forever?

“That’s a heavy question,” she says finally, “where’s this coming from?”

Drew shrugs and his tone teeters on the edge of defensiveness when he answers, “just some things I think about sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” she says carefully, “I’d like to think some people can. I mean my parents have been together for a really long time and I’d like to think they’ll stay together forever.”

“How about you and Paigey?” Drew prods. 

There’s an answer of yes that tastes like asphalt on the top of Azzi’s tongue and so much of her wants to spit it out and have that be the answer she gives Drew. But there are these uneasy shackles of uncertainty, of what if’s, of who knows what the future could do to us, that stops her. And she doesn’t know why she’s so scared of saying yes. Because if she’s honest with herself Azzi can’t really fathom a forever without her girlfriend; not when sometimes it feels like instead of a heart, it’s Paige that beats rhythmically against her ribcage. 

“I really, really hope so,” she whispers. 

“Azzi,” Drew’s voice is coated in sincerity and the brunette hums in response, “you won’t ever hurt my Paigey will you?”

And there it is again, the unpredictability of what could happen next that’s beginning to feel a little suffocating. She wants to give Drew a resounding no because Azzi would rather drive a dagger through her skin before letting Paige get so much as a paper cut but life is so fickle and she’s scared of making a promise she can’t keep. So she makes one that she swears she can. 

“I promise that I will try my absolute best not to hurt your Paigey.”

***

May 2033 

“Well,” Drew Bueckers sneers, his tone filled with contempt as he takes in the way Paige, Azzi and Stephie are practically wrapped into each other, don’t you guys just look so fucking cozy.”

There’s a sinister tension-filled quiet as the three adults -god it’s weird to include Drew as an adult but Azzi supposes that that’s what he is now- look between each other. 

“Umm you owe me a kiss,” Stephie cuts into the silence.

“What?” Drew scrunches his face at the little girl. 

“You said a bad word,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “and Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. So Miss Buecks,” Drew's eyes narrow at the nickname as the little girl lightly taps Paige’s shoulder, “can you turn around and move closer so he can give me a kiss?”

“You don’t, you don’t have to do that-” Azzi tries to intervene. 

“Yes he does Mama,” Stephie interupts her indignantly, “rules are rules right?’

“Stephie-”

“Rules are rules,” it’s Drew who cuts Azzi off this time, his previously stoic face morphing into something warmer as he takes a step closer to her daughter and presses his lips against her turned cheek, “there you go. Am I forgiven for saying a bad word now?”

Stephie grins up at him and Azzi feels a wave of this is how it always should have been pinching at her heart she watches the two of them. 

“You’re forgiven but you have to promise not to do it again.”

“I don’t make promises like that kid,” there’s an unspoken accusation as Drew keeps up a smile towards Stephie but his eyes dart for the briefest second towards the two women around him, “but I promise I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Stephie accepts happily as she reaches over Paige’s shoulder to press her own lips against Drew’s cheek. 

“What was that for?’ he asks a little dazedly. 

Stephie shrugs, “because I think I’m gonna like you.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers finally, gently letting the little girl off of her shoulders, “what are you- what are you doing here?”

“What? A guy can’t just come visit his sister anymore?” there’s an unfamiliar hard edge to Drew’s voice -a stark contrast from how he’d been with Stephie- that makes Azzi flinch. 

“Of course he can but I just- you didn’t- you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Paige presses. 

“Well we've been talking about me coming down for a while but it just hasn’t happened and so I thought- I thought why not just come surprise you but-” Drew purses his lips as he gestures to the trio in front of him, “I think I might be the one who’s surprised.”

“Drew-”

“Actually you know what no,” he clenches his jaw, voice dripping with barely controlled anger, “I’m actually not surprised. Not surprised at all. Because really this- this is exactly what I should have expected from the two of you.”

“Maybe,” Azzi nibbles at her bottom, “maybe we should go-’

“NO,” both Stephie and Paige yell out in tandem as the little girl immediately clutches onto the blonde’s thighs. 

“I don’t wanna go. Miss Buecks tell Mama I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re staying right here with me,” Paige reassures the little girl as she turns her gaze back to Azzi, “you’re not going anywhere okay?”

“Paige-”

“I asked you to stay tonight and you’re going to stay. End of discussion,” Paige says firmly and Azzi lets out a reluctant sight. 

“You asked her to stay? As in stay the night? Oh my god,” Drew scoffs maliciously. 

“Drew,” there’s a warning tone in Paige’s voice as she deattaches herself from Stephie, keeping her voice low, “not right now okay?”

Her brother rolls his eyes, grunting out a “whatever,” but listening to his older sister like he always had and suddenly Azzi feels nostalgic for the little boy she had once known. 

“You’re so tall,” she blurts out, grimacing slightly when he turns to her with a frown. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I knew that. I’ve seen some of your highlights and I knew I mean- I knew you were taller and that you’ve gotten bigger and that you’d look stronger and all of that but I just-” Azzi gulps between her babbling, “you just- you look different Drew.”

There’s a shine of warmth in Drew’s gaze for a second but it flickers away faster than it had appeared and his eyes are cold with flecks of betrayal as he looks at Azzi, “that’s what happens as people get older isn’t it? I wouldn’t look so different to you if you’d been around to see me grow up.”

There’s venom laced in every word and Paige immediately opens her mouth to argue with him, but Azzi wraps a hand around her wrist to stop her. Because even if the words seep into her skin and infect it with bruises of guilt and regret, Azzi thinks she probably deserves them. She’d been in Drew’s world for so long and then one day, she just hadn’t been. She thinks he probably could have spewed something even more poisonous and she just might have deserved that too. 

“Are you sleeping over too, Uncle Drew?” Stephie asks softly, unaffected by the tenseness of the adults around her. 

“Uncle Drew?” Drew asks slowly. 

Stephie nods with a grin, “Miss Buecks called you Drew and that’s when I figured it out. Mama and Miss Buecks have told me stories about you and there’s some pictures of you from when you were littler at Nana and Pop's house,” she rambles and Drew’s eyes soften at the idea of Stephie knowing of his existence, “ and just in case you don’t know who I am even though you should,” she gives him a pointed look as if everyone should know who the little girl is, “I’m Stephie. And you’re my Miss Buecks’s brother so that means you’re my Uncle Drew.”

“Right that um-” Drew clears his throats, “that makes sense Stephie.”

“So Uncle Drew, are you sleeping over too?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

“YAY!” Stephie squeals as she laces her fingers through Drew and begins to pull him towards the front door, “so Uncle Drew what’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Something wonderful flutters in Azzi’s chest as she watches the two of them interact -it’s a little bit like seeing the past and present harmonically blend into one- but despite that, despite the reassurance that Paige squeezes against her hand, there’s an uneasiness lingering in the back of her mind. That wretched but familiar fear of the future weaves itself through her heart. Between the frostiness from Drew and whatever secret Paige is keeping from her, Azzi can’t help but wonder if these last couple of weeks had simply been a mirage. She can’t help but wonder if this bubble of happiness that they’ve built is about to be burst by a needle of circumstance again. 

[emilyprentissluvr]

A New Light (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 5)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2k

"How's that big head of yours?" Emily asked as she leaned against the door frame of Derek's hospital room. She had come straight from the crime scene, where Hotch had received a call that Derek was being released but needed someone to pick him up. Emily immediately volunteered, the lingering guilt still at the back of her mind. 

"Always the flatterer, princess." Derek chuckled as he packed his bag, "Doctors think she drugged me transdermally."

"Jesus. She really was two steps ahead of us," Emily sighed, and Derek nodded in confirmation, "Hotch said she struck again?"

"Yeah, she's taunting us," Emily said.

"This is my fault. I should have done more to stop her-" Derek started before Emily cut him off.

"She drugged you, Derek. No one could have seen that coming."

"I know, but-"

"Ah! No buts! Except for yours, which is about to get pushed around by me in a wheelchair." Emily smiled as she gestured to the wheelchair outside of his room.

"Like hell I am," Derek scoffed as he tried to walk out of the room but was stopped by Emily. 

"It's hospital protocol. And I'll call Dad if you don't cooperate!" Emily threatened.

Derek rolled his eyes but eventually sat in the wheelchair. Emily could be very scary when she wanted to be.

Out of everyone, he was glad that it was Emily to get him. They shared an easy camaraderie, which was exactly what he needed. 

"I don't think Hotch will approve of you calling him Dad." Derek quipped back as Emily pushed him through the halls of the hospital.

"Yeah, you're right. Mom suits him better." Emily smiled, causing Derek to laugh, "Ten bucks to say that to his face." 

"Oh, you're on," Emily said, flicking the back of his head, and their bickering continued all the way to the car. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"Alright, my beautiful crime fighters," Penelope started as she walked into the conference room where the rest of the team was. As soon as Emily and Derek had walked into the bullpen, Hotch had called everyone to debrief and review new information.

"I found a whole lot of nothing with the information Derek gave us, but I did possibly find something!" Penelope said as she connected her computer to the TV. 

"I ran the name Y/n Y/l/n, and unsurprisingly, I found nada. However, I ran the name Alex Painter, Y/n's first victim, through VICAP and got this.."

The technical analyst pulled the picture up, and the team sat in confusion.

"Alex Painter was a woman?" Emily asked, extremely skeptical if this was the right person.

"And she was killed in 1991? Assuming Y/n is in her mid-20s, that would put her at about 6-10 years old when she killed Alex Painter." Spencer chimed in.

"COD was blunt force trauma to the head; I mean, even though it sounds unlikely, it isn't entirely impossible," Derek said.

"I've seen it before," Rossi added. 

"You can't be serious," JJ said defensively, causing the whole team to look at her, surprised by her uncharacteristic tone, "She was just a kid. There's no way she could have done that by herself."

"I'm with JJ," Emily said, although much calmer than her blonde counterpart, "Something's off. This is either the wrong Alex Painter, or we're getting into something a lot bigger than we thought."

The rest of the team nodded; not everyone was on the same page, but everyone knew something wasn't adding up. 

"Well, that's my cue to do more sleuthing. I will update you guys when I'm done. PG out." Penelope declared as she grabbed her stuff and made her way to her lair for the foreseeable future. 

"While Garcia's doing that, I want a new profile on Y/n, especially after last night,"  Hotch said as he motioned to the numerous boxes on the table. "Go over all the case files again; maybe there's something Interpol missed." He said before going to his office to no doubt do his own work.

"Well, this should be fun," Derek grumbled, earning a sigh from everyone else.

"Coffee, anyone?" Emily asked, knowing this was about to be a long day. Everyone gave a pleasant nod. Before she left the room, she turned to JJ when no one was looking and mouthed "tea," to which JJ gave a grateful smile.  

As Emily was brewing the coffee, she felt her phone buzz. Not thinking anything of it, she pulled it out of her pocket. But when she saw the sender of the text, her heart dropped. 

Y/n (10:23 am): Did you like the flowers?

Emily scoffed, about to turn her phone off, when another message popped up.

Y/n (10:24 am): It was hard to find them on such short notice. But only the best for you, darling.

Emily (10:24 am): I don't want anything from you.

Emily quickly typed out. She didn't know if this was against protocol, but she couldn't just not respond. 

Y/n (10:25 am): We'll see about that.

Emily pocketed her phone, leaving the conversation at that before turning to the coffee pot and filling up everyone's mug. 

"Thanks for the tea," Emily heard from behind her and turned to find JJ.

"Of course. You feeling okay?" She asked as she handed JJ her mug, "No morning sickness, thankfully. But I give the smell of coffee two hours before it makes me puke."

"I'm sorry," Emily said apologetically, but JJ waved her off.

"So, have you put any more thought into you and Will?" Emily asked, trying not to pry, but she also wanted to get her mind off of Y/n.

"I don't know," JJ sighed, "He was blowing up my phone last night."

"After you told him you were at my place?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, he was just worried," JJ said quietly. 

Emily tried not to let her emotions play on her face, but god, she couldn't stand Will. 

"Well, you're welcome to come over whenever. And if you need me to talk to Will-" Emily started before JJ cut her off.

"It's fine, Em. But thank you." JJ said appreciatively, squeezing Emily's arm. 

"Yo! Where's that coffee, princess?" Derek called from the conference room. 

"Well, duty calls." JJ chuckled as she helped Emily grab the mugs. 

When they returned to the conference room, there were files everywhere. It was going to be a very long day.

By 6 pm, it seemed as if they had made no progress. Emily's eyes were strained, and she honestly didn't think she was retaining anything she was reading. 

"This is insane," Derek muttered as he picked another file out of the box.

"What is?" Spencer asked, adding another file to his stack that was probably double the size of everyone else's.

"Her victim count. It's insane." Derek said as it was the most obvious thing.

"Why? Cause she's a woman?" JJ asked.

"Yeah," Derek said sarcastically, causing Emily to throw her pen at him, hitting him right in the forehead, "Hey! I was kidding!"

"I know," Emily smiled, and Derek rolled his eyes.

"What I meant was that she's in her twenties and already has a kill count in the hundreds. What happened to her that made her into the killer she is?" Derek questioned.

"I don't know. And until we figure that out, we stand no chance of catching her," Rossi added.

Emily bit at her bottom lip. She didn't want to think about how many more people were going to die before they caught Y/n.

"Maybe I can try and lure her out again." Emily offered and was immediately met with a resounding no from everyone.

"We already did that, and it didn't work," JJ said. Not even wanting to think about sending her friend to meet Y/n again. 

"And besides, you know that's not how we work, Prentiss," Derek said.

"Yeah, yeah. You're right." Emily said with a small nod. But she couldn't help but think they could catch Y/n quicker if they did, except for the fact that Derek was right. The BAU didn't go undercover and lure people; they profiled and caught unsubs from an outside perspective. And that's how Emily wanted to do things from here on out. Right?

It was almost 8 pm by the time she walked into her apartment. The last two days were catching up to her, and Emily wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next 12 hours. She quickly popped a frozen pizza into the oven before going to change. 

As she waited for the pizza, she browsed through her bookshelf when she suddenly remembered that Y/n told her she was a writer. Was it possible that Emily had read one of her books? She had quite a hefty collection in her apartment, but it wasn't even a fraction of all the books she'd read in her life. 

What kind of books did Y/n write? Emily wondered. Mystery? Romance? Fiction? Fantasy?

And what got her into writing? How did she even have time to write and murder hundreds of men?

The oven rang, pulling Emily out of her thoughts. She shook her head as she walked back to the kitchen. Reading was supposed to help her get out of her head, and all she could think about was Y/n. 

She took her pizza on the couch, putting on some reality show that she didn't pay any attention to. 

After about twenty minutes, Emily pulled her phone out and went to her text messages with Y/n. She knew she should tell Hotch she was in contact with Y/n. But what if Hotch disapproved and made her end it? She couldn't get rid of the only lead they had, so maybe she should wait until she got enough out of Y/n. 

So, without thinking too hard about it, she texted Y/n. 

Emily (9:02 PM): Alex Painter.

The name was all Emily typed before turning off her phone. She knew Y/n wouldn't be able to resist talking to her. And even if the younger woman didn't give her anything, what harm could it do? It wasn't like the team was making much leeway anyway.

Y/n (9:03 PM): I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? Change of heart?

Emily (9:03 PM): No. I just want to know about Alex Painter. 

Y/n (9:04 PM): What about her?

Y/n (9:04 PM): Also, this is not the kind of late-night text I prefer, Emily.

Emily scoffed, ignoring the last message.

Emily (9:05 PM): Did you really kill her in 1991?

Y/n (9:05 PM): I don't know, did I? I thought your team was supposed to be good at stuff like this.

Y/n (9:06 PM): Also, what are you wearing?

Once again, Emily ignored the last message.

Emily (9:06 PM): You were just a kid in 1991. How were you able to overpower a grown woman?

Y/n (9:07 PM): Answer my question, and I'll answer yours.

Emily groaned as she looked down at her outfit. She knew what Y/n was doing, and she didn't want to play into her game. But if she could get an answer, it would be worth it. And it wasn't like she was doing anything illegal.

Emily (9:09 PM): An old Yale T-shirt and flannel pajama shorts.

Y/n (9:09 PM): Surprising, but nonetheless hot. Want to know what I'm wearing?

Emily (9:09 PM): No. I answered your question, now answer mine.

Y/n (9:10 PM): Bummer. If you wanted to know, I would have told you that I am taking a very relaxing bath right now and am wearing absolutely nothing.

Emily gripped her phone, cursing her brain for visualizing that for even a second. God, this was a bad idea.

Y/n (9:10 PM): And if you had said please, I definitely would have sent you a picture. 

Emily (9:10 PM): Back to Alex Painter 

Emily typed, not wanting to entertain Y/n any longer. 

Y/n (9:11 PM): Yes ma'am.

Y/n (9:11 PM): 1991 is correct. More specifically, I was 7. And to answer your question, I took the last hit.

Emily (9:11 PM): What does that mean?

Y/n (9:12 PM): You tell me. But I have to say I'm quite bored of this conversation now. We'll talk later, darling.

Emily shut off her phone, knowing the conversation was done. But what did Y/n mean by her taking the last hit?

Emily quickly went to clean her kitchen before getting into bed. 

She tried to sleep, but all she could think about was Y/n. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [6]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: You need to get some answers.

A/N: Ahh, we have reached the end! A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this series! <3

Warnings: Cecil crying (a lot), talk of pregnancy, anxiety, there's a happy ending, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1319

Your first instinct is to leave. Just go. Walk out and drive home and delete his number and never talk to him again. 

But then his panicked face and pleading eyes echoed in your mind, reverberating to the point of madness. 

Just go. Walk out and drive home and delete his number and ignore him for a few days.

But that seemed cruel too. 

You’d only just been doing whatever the hell you and Cecil had been doing recently. Neither of you had talked about what you actually were and besides, it definitely seemed like Danielle and him were no longer seeing each other, or sleeping together. Or…

You needed to know. At the very least, you owed yourself answers.

So, instead, you moped around the house a little, picking halfheartedly at the pancakes Cecil had been making, the ones he’d finished now cold. 

In the rush he’d left his phone upstairs, so it wasn’t as if you could message him about when he’d be back. 

You didn’t know when Harry would return either. Part of you toys with the idea of leaving a note or message for him to contact you when he gets back, just so you could go home and sidestep any possible awkward conversations. 

Just as you are considering what to write, the front door slams open with the kind of force that should have, but luckily didn’t, rip it off its hinges. 

Cecil bursts inside, wide eyed, sweaty, and panicked. He looks delirious, like he’s run twenty miles in the desert with no water. 

He almost doesn’t notice you sitting at the kitchen table as he falls inside, but he manages to stop his body from running up the stairs and grabbing his phone when he sees you. 

Your name falls out of his lips nervously, a whispered mumble that breaks a little at the end. His eyes teary. 

He takes a step forward, his hands twitching at his sides as he goes to reach out for you, but he stops himself. 

“She’s not pregnant.”

You don’t get a chance to answer as all his words come out in a rush of sound. 

“She’s not pregnant, I promise, look I even got the doctor to give me proof.” He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his jeans. “It’s got her signature and the doctor’s contact info, you can check it all online too, make sure it’s real. She said you can call her to confirm that Danielle’s not pregnant, I explained to her, to the Doctor, she was really nice, she said she’d talk to you and-”

“Cecil,” you say softly as you stand and take his shaking hands in yours. “It’s okay.”

“Danielle– we slept together a few times about two months ago, but I always used a condom, always, and they didn’t break. And then we stopped hanging out because she’s…”

You wait, giving him space to finish as you stroke his hand.

“She’s kind of mean, and then we don’t talk, she blocks me and suddenly a few weeks ago she messages me saying she’s pregnant and I’m the Dad and I need to send her all this money.” He looks up at you hopefully. “I, I don’t have that kind of money… She wanted me to go to the first doctor’s appointment and, I think she really did think she was pregnant, but she wasn’t. And, and she told me the date, it was next week. For sure. I remember, I have the message, I can show you. It wasn’t today. Otherwise… otherwise…”

“It’s okay.” You give him a reassuring smile and take the doctor’s letter out of his hands and place it on the table. 

“You hate me…” His voice completely breaks at the end, his face crumpling as the dam bursts and tears start to flow. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” you wrap your arms around him quickly, holding him close and squeezing him tight. You rub his back as he weeps into you, burying his face into your neck. “How could I hate you, hmm?” You kiss his temple and he cries harder. 

“You hate my kisses that much? They make you cry?” You tease lightly, trying to cheer him.

He shakes his head rapidly, still sobbing, but trying to stop. “I love them.” He insists through tears. 

“Yeah?” You kiss his temple again, and then his cheek.

“Yeah, yes, I love them so much, I love you.” He blurts out and then sobs harder in the beat of silence that follows. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Shhh,” you lean back so you can hold his face in both of your hands and look into his eyes. “Why are you sorry, sweet thing?” 

“I, I, I,” he hiccups and swallows trying to force his tears down. “I thought you’d be gone and never speak to me again, and I ran all the way here back from the doctor’s because I didn’t want to be in the car with her for a second longer, and you hate me and now I said I love you and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and kiss his lips lightly. His breathing hitches. 

“Cecil,” you say softly, “take a seat and I’ll get you some water.” 

He shakes his head, “Can I hold your hand while you get water?” 

You smile, your chest heavy and you nod. 

He holds your bicep, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as you fill a glass. He sits when you guide him to the table and takes the water when you offer it. He drinks quickly, trying to swallow as much as possible to please you. 

“Hey, don’t choke.” You say gently, taking the glass out of his hands - half full - and sit down next to him. 

He looks at you sadly from under his wet lashes, little shudders of his cries echoing on his body. “I get it… if you don’t want to ever see me again.” 

“Cecil,” You stroke his hair and he presses his head to your hand, closing his eyes. “It’s okay. I promise.” 

His eyes snap open as he looks at you, confusion and shock plastered all over his face. “You…?”

“Me…?” You tease a little. 

“You don’t hate… you want to…?” 

“I want you dummy,” you smile and kiss him again gently, a soft brush of your lips to his.

He moves after you quickly, deepening in kiss and moaning softly. The moment he pulls back he’s crying again. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he waves his hand and wipes at his eyes, “happy tears, happy tears.”

“You’re so sweet.” You give his hand a little squeeze. 

He shakes his head. “I’m a piece of shit. I should have told you… I just didn’t…” He sighs, “I didn’t want to put you off. You’re already so kind and hot and put together, and I’m just-”

“Shh.” You grin and he smiles back. “Besides, we’re not… we never talked about being… you know. We never set any boundaries.” 

He nods. “I’d like to… be like… going steady.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the sincere way he says it, the honesty in his tone just causes joy to bubble in your chest. 

His smile widens as you laugh. “Is that a yes?” 

You nod. “Yes.” 

He grins wildly and kisses all over your face repeatedly until you're laughing so hard you almost can’t breathe. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles as he moves back. 

“Stop saying sorry.” 

“Sorry.” 

You snort and then pause. “Would you still like to come over to mine?” 

His eyes widen a little, glittering in the light. “Three day food and fuck weekend?” 

You let out a bark of laughter and nod. “Three day food and fuck weekend.” 

He kisses you again, sweetly this time. “I don’t deserve you.” He whispers against your lips.

“That’s okay. I don’t deserve you either.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[astra-galaxie]

I DID IT!! Here’s the whole thing copy pasted from Google docs!!

The Player’s general skills and implied personality + some stuff abt them! (as far as i can gather, at least, tell me if i missed smth!)

*Note that these skills do not include case specific stuff (like the time they discovered a new species in Pacific Bay)

-Exceptionally skilled at handling the forensic kit,in S1, Jones had challenged the player to uncrack a code while he recites the alphabet from A, and the player cracked the code just before he hit the letter F. It takes about a few seconds, so that says a lot.

-The player has freaky intuition skills in general. I mean, in quite literally every case, they figure out what evidence is needed, what could count as evidence, and searches through things most would gloss over. Their partners acknowledge this a lot, more in the first cases since they just met.

-Can keep a level head even in high stress or even dangerous situations even when their partners cant, whether its during or after the cases. Jones addressed this after court quite a few times in the first season. Also, the player’s able to calm down whoever thier with or

*Add on, in S4, while facing Cappechi & Finley for the first time, he managed to intimidate Isaac on both occasions, however, the player remained composed enough to be able to file evidence against them.

-Works out. In Good Girls dont die, a case in S1, while Grace tries to convince Martha to calm down, she states that the player has already kicked down the door. Like, kick. The player probably doesnt even have any special gear on them, so either the door is weak or, the more likely theory is that the player got dem legs frfr

-Has quite the memory. Easiest case to get this info from is during S4, in the case Eyes Wide Shut, player and Isaac identify a rice makeup composition on the item, Player can easily recall that 17 cases back, which give or take a few, is about a monthish? That Madam Xiang was wearing it. Mind you, at this stage in case Eyes Wide Shut, the duo had only spoken to Madam Xiang once, and she never mentioned the makeup.

-The Bureau themselves asked for the player to join them, that in itself is already a accomplishment, since the Bureau is like, the elite of the elite in the police world.

-Their temper seems to be much milder, or at least, more controlled. Its more evident with Frank and David (S1) since the chiefs often say the player is much calmer than them, hell, David got in trouble for being too brash and got so many complaints he had to file paperwork.

-They do indeed make mistakes, one of my friends irl kept saying the player was a Mary Sue esque kind, but in S3, they were also led on by the Warren guy after he framed the Guru, and they were kidnapped by Karen in S2. If they were so called ‘Mary Sues’, they’d probably figure out a way to not get captured and be the person whos left unscathed and babied by the team.

-Maybe a similar point, but they have sharp eyes and possibly very good eyesight. In a case with Jonah as a partner in S3 during one of the Additional Investigations, the player spots a tent from afar up a mountain. Not to mention its always them who finds everything lol

-The player is good at calming down their partners or whoever is working with them tbh. Like every time one of their case partners are loosing hope, breaking down, feeling impatient or angry, the player snaps them back to their senses.

-They arent quite up to date with some stuff, or simply put, most likely arent that geeky like Jones is, or probably that interested in acting and stuff, in S4 when Isaac asks them how they have no idea who Dolly Darnell (famous actress) and a famous chess master is. Personally would love to think they’d love to listen to their friends and team talk about certain personal interests of thiers.

-Most definitely has a good physique. In S2, Roxie comments that they fit perfectly into a diving suit, which is typically quite tight, so we can assume their physical health is in good or in its prime, in S7, Ben mentions the player has great reflexes for being able to dodge a chupabara attack.

-Can handle a gun better than the average policeman could, probably. In S4, they got into a gunfight with their team against Capecchi and his men, and the team won, so probably suggests that either the rest did most of the work, or the player is good enough to aim and shoot down a whole bunch of tough ahh men.

-Has better driving skills than Jones

-The chiefs often say the player is a rolemodel of what the rest of the team members should be, often, its Frank and Jones being reprimanded and being compared to the Player.

-Implied to be a pretty sarcastic and humorous person, whenever the person their working with for a case or a suspect makes a unfunny or less than tasteful joke, or just does smth weird in general, they always tell the player to ‘not look at them like that’

*Jones seems to be the one saying this the most, including Frank because he teases the player a lot as well.

-Patient. The cheifs say the player is patient, and im sure having Frank work with them would make their temper flare at leats three times in a single hour if the player wasnt a patient person.

-Knows how to handle and drag themselves + their team out of wallowing after a crisis. In S3, Ripley praises the player for being able to rise up after her ‘death’ so quickly, and solving her ‘death’ as well.

-Thier spice tolerence is off the charts, could bet money that they definitely could eat a few hot peppers and only complain of a bit of bite on their tongue. Even Rita admits their tolerance is higher and she’s tough as hell.

-Reliable adult, probably good or decent with children. They were the adult Matilda came running to (in Grimsborough S1) while her own parents were arguing. Jones said this as well when reprimanding the dad.

-My friend (yes the same one) keeps saying that the player would be homophobic?? What?? At least one of their core team members are gay as hell, cmon bruh

-Is most definately empathic and more adept at handling sensitive cases, whether by sensitive, its a matter of whether the press gets ahold and it could be bad, or its sensitive like family and personal matters get involved. When their partners make a distasteful comment or joke, no matter how mild, the player is implied to have told them off (ahem, Jones, Frank and Roxie)

-Good at undercover work, its shows in S4 during the last district, does the S4 part where they have to break Florence Samuels out with Rose count?

-They solve cases within the day or in a few hours, the latest they’ve ever finished a case was in the evening and then again, the player had only started on it in the afternoon.

-A kind person in general. I mean, for one, if i was a homicide investigator and every time i do an investigation, multiple people want my help?? I’d bail, nuh uh. AND not to mention, its time consuming bc theres always the need for analysis, and with sometimes, personal and professional problems get mixed up halfway.

-They most definitely have the money to live comfortably, they have the money to take James Savage for shopping for a new funeral suit and outfit, and they recieve so much spare cash from suspects during the AI.

-I feel like they probably have a good fashion sense, but on that point, can we talk about their closet size?? They get so many articles of clothing, they would definitely be the kind to overdress on every occasion and still look fabulous.

-I would not be surprised if its end up being revealed that they were a reformed thief or some wild shit like that, how does a rookie officer know how to crack a lock in seconds??

-Do you guys think their banned from being the seeker whenever the office decides to play hide and seek because their so good at finding stuff? Like, the last time they were the seeker they probably caught everyone in less than 30 minutes or some shit

-In addition to that helping people shit, the player’s either just energetic in general or their ass is running on coffee and pure willpower because i CANNOT do what their doing, their partners dont even stay consistent throughout the entire AI, and sometimes, in the official investigation itself

-Player’s a positive influence on the people around them, and this prob my nth time mentioning them, but JONES AND FRANK!! Grace says at the end of S1 that the Player’s influenced them positively a lot, and Karen says that as well abt Player’s influence on Frank.

-More on the energy thing, they work overtime so often im surprised they havent asked for a raise or something (then again, the chiefs probably automatically gave them one anyways, maybe even more)

-Not afraid of them high rankers!! S4 for example, no matter how many times Commisioner Baldwin threatened them, they are not afraid, gives 0 fucks, did not gaf even tho Andrea told them to leave Jazz Town before the hurricane kills them

-Player def got a strong stomach and do not care about getting ther hands dirty, they’ve seen so many dead bodies in the most gruesome settings possible, and they dig through trash every case, they have definitely seen…stuff. Oh yeah, they’ve seen so much raunchy and sexual stuff I don’t think they’d be too fazed anymore.

-Offically, including the S4, S6 and S7 cases, they’ve solved 370 cases in their entire career, including a cold case in S5, maybe indirectly, a few more in S5 due to the Rocket Cow killer being discovered, and a few more side murders due to how many serial killers they’ve arrested, so the victims get justice.

-They get offered or are the ones paying the first round for drinks quite a lot, so I’d assume that either they dont drink at all, or they can hold their alcohol well.

-Has gained fame as both as a detective world wide and citywide, AND in Pacific Bay as a co owner of a movie and had their cases featured in another movie! I’d assume their movies are out by S3 or by S5.

-Magic hands, anything damaged can get so well repaired its like it was never broken, or the partners and the suspects are just trying to make the player not feel bad lol

-They seem to not mind… leftovers, or anything that is edible but looks or taste unappealing… I mean, if we get a burger everytime a prisoner gives up their prison slop to the player, does that imply they ate it no problemo??

Sidenote: it feels like I’m putting the player on a pedestal at some parts… I assure you I’m not trying to 🥲🥲

Sorry, it took so long for me to answer this! I FINALLY found the time to sit down, read and react to it!

And to start this off: HOLY SHIT!😲 (I mean this in the best way possible!)

(Live footage of me giving this post as much love as possible. Yes, I am secretly an alien gremlin!😉)

I'm going to try to go through each section at a time, so prepare for a long post!

-Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else has training when it comes to the forensic kit... I remember Jack claiming to be a pro at the vacuum tool, but we NEVER see him use it! Or any of our partners, for that matter!🙄

-It wouldn't surprise me if the player was psychic! Or at least partly! I don't think I've seen anyone make a psychic player OC yet, but it would be an interesting concept!

-After everything the player has seen, even just in the first season alone, it's no surprise they know how to keep their cool!

(At least Isaac got more confident at dealing with Finley! Though we can't blame him for being scared of Mad Dog!)

-Kicking down a door is no easy task! (Not that I've ever tried it.) So the player must try to keep themself in shape! And clearly, they don't skip leg day!🦾🦿

-I wish I had the player's memory sometimes... My working memory is slowly going downhill! And yeah, remembering something as minor as someone wearing rice makeup from months ago is impressive! Esapiclly considering everything that's happened between the cases!

-I have the theory that if CC had continued, we would have been recruited into the GIA or another secret spy agency like we were for the Bureau! After all, their resume would be as impressive as it is long!

-Some characters could learn from the player and their ability to control their temper... (*cough* Frank *cough*)

-I can see where your friend got the "Mary Sue" idea from. The player is constantly being praised for their work, but they still make mistakes and learn from them, like you said!

-Forget 20/20 vision; the player has the best eyes in the world! They must be the champion in Eye Spy and Hidden Object games!

-If the player ever decided to change careers, they could be a therapist! Or an anger management coach!

-With how busy the player is, it's unsurprising they don't have time to be up-to-date with some things...

As for the S4 thing, I like the idea of the player being from away and not knowing about Concordian celebrities, unlike their partners!

-In conjunction with the strength one, the player must take care of themself by eating well (ignoring all the free hamburgers they get...) and staying active!

-I think it's stated that the team worked together to defeat Capecchi and his men, but the player obviously knows how to handle a gun in order to stand their ground against them!

-Well, Jones did crash at least once that we know of, unlike the player...😉

-With how good the player is implied to be, I bet they would win employee of the month every month! Move over, Sponge Bob! We've got a new champ in town!

-Sometimes, I wish we had dialogue options just to see the jokes and witty remarks the player could make!

-The player must have the patience of a saint to put up with some of the people and things they have to deal with!

-For the amount of shit they find themself in, the player knows a thing or two about how to get out of it and drag others out with them!

-Given that Rita looked like she was on fire while eating the salsa, the player either has a steal tongue or no feeling in it to handle eating all that spice!

-I like to think the player is good with children too. After all, almost every time we meet a child in the game, they seem to love the player!

-I can't see how your friend came to the homophobic conclusion either! The player works with several LGBTQ+ teammates and interacts with even more LGBTQ+ characters outside the teams! Are we sure they played the same CC game?

-The player is one of the game's most empathetic people. Even after so much death and pain, they still are. And they know how to stay professional when working on a sensitive case.

-I'd count it as evidence of them being good at undercover work! They're also constantly undercover in S6 and manage to fool nearly everyone they meet!

-I've always wondered about the timeline for solving a case... I swear they finish every case within a shift! I think the only one I canonly recall taking more than a day was Anatomy of Murder when Jones talks about reading his book before bed during chapters 2&1 (I think...).

-The player has a heart of gold, and it's a miracle they still do by the end of the series!✨

-They must be LOADED! But if people keep giving them free money on top of their job income, it's no surprise they probably don't have to worry about money!

-With all the clothes and accessories they get throughout the series, they could have a whole floor in their house dedicated to their closet! Hopefully, they donate anything they no longer want.

-A common theme among OC players is that they always have a secret past! I'm sure someone must have made one with a past as a thief or something to help explain how they're so good at picking locks!

-Agreed. They are only allowed to participate in hide-and-go-seek by being the timekeeper.

-The player must live off of coffee, energy drinks, or SOMETHING to be so energetic! I know I wouldn't be so excited to do extra work by helping people after solving a murder! I hope they get extended vacations to make it even!

-Player, spreading positivity wherever they go!✨

-They better get paid WELL for everything they do for their job, teammates, cities and citizens!

-They've got nerves of steel and the bravery of a god to stand up against so much higher authority! They've even talked back to royalty before, too!

-For how often they search through the trash, they either have no sense of smell or the strongest stomach in the world!

-The player's case record is unbeatable! And they solved all those cases in under a decade, according to the undefined timeline!

-I think the drink thing stopped after S2 (or at least I don't remember it happening as much after that season), but they are still often invited for drinks one way or another!

-I'll never know how they weren't recognized in S7, given how famous they are! For changing to such a secret job when they joined the supernatural hunters, it's a surprise they weren't recognized! Especially considering we run into past characters!🤔

-The player is probably the first person people go to after breaking something! We'll never know how they manage to fix things so perfectly! Unless they really ARE magic!🤔

-The player never does say no to free food... Even when they really should! How they never got food poisoning (Jones flashback intensify) will remain a mystery!

-Don't worry; other characters put the player on a pedestal for us!😉

Phew! That was a workout! Hopefully, we didn't lose you guys!😅

I can tell you put a lot of work into this, so let me be the first to say good job!🥳✨

NOW TAKE A BREAK! You deserve it after creating this doc!

You captured a lot of the player's traits and successes! And I look forward to seeing what others think about your analysis! And if there's anything they think should be added! After all, it is always helpful to have some extra input!😊

[impval]

Meet me halfway

Cate Dunlap x Fem!Reader soulmate au

If you believed in destiny– a fate, some written-in-stone plan of the universe– it all had something to do with the way their wrists aligned. The words inscribed there, written with a trembling hand and the heart of a girl who was half a broken mess and half a survivor.

The days in her room were long. So long. Nine years of no one touching her. No one holding her. The silence was so goddamn deafening sometimes that she'd almost be praying for someone to burst through the door for no other reason to end the endless hours of quiet.

You were the only reason she was still sane. The idea of you— the thought of meeting you someday— the belief that anyone out there was meant for her. That no matter what…someone would love her.

Cate spent so long waiting for you— imagining you. Her fantasies went so far, it hurt.

But when Indira came, touched her, saved her from that dark, lonely room…

It was enough to keep her going… for a while, at least. Indira's words weren't quite as cruel or cold-hearted as her parents. At the very least, her savior had never looked at her like something she ought to fear. And God, how Cate craved that closeness. That human connection. She had grown up, practically starved for it.

And even if it wasn't you, Indira had a gift with words, and she had a way of convincing Cate that things could change. Things could get better.

And you were still nowhere to be found.

Cate was so, so lonely, even when she was surrounded by the noise and laughter of college life. The parties, the alcohol, the boys— it was all so numbing. Her mind was full, yet all of her thoughts were consumed by you. Wondering where the hell you were. It drove her insane— drove her to keep taking the pills that Indira said would make everything better.

She would still do anything for validation.

She would still change every part of herself, just so long as someone would tell her I love you, once.

Cate spent her nights at parties, drinking until the room was spinning and everything was blurry and fun and light, because she didn't care. She just wanted to feel numb, pretend like she didn't feel hollow and empty inside. And every time she woke up in a stranger's bed she wondered if today would be the day when you walked into her life.

But each morning she rose alone, her lips tingling with regret and memories from the night before.

Every party was an opportunity to find you, to touch as many people as possible. To find the one person who didn't run. Who wasn't afraid. To feel your heartbeat under her fingertips, feel the blood pumping through your veins.

Only it never worked. You were never there, and Cate's hope was fading.

For some people, finding their soulmates is as easy as saying two words. It just happens. One look—one touch—and it's like a missing puzzle piece slotting into place. The world just… clicks.

Cate will never know that. She's accepted that much. But still, every time she saw Luke and Andre, her heart stung just a little. That could've been her.

There were times when Cate felt like you didn't exist. That whatever words were written on her wrist were a cruel, sadistic joke. That in a world of superheroes and powers, she was the one who'd been dealt a shitty hand.

When she'd been isolated for nearly a decade, the odds of finding you were just about zero. But for all of that despair, for all of those hopeless fantasies, she never lost hope. Because after spending so much time by herself she had grown up, and one thing she'd learned early on was the fact that monsters were made, not born.

That itch. That pull, that need that was constantly gnawing at her like an infected wound, festering. And it wasn't like the pills Shetty gave her had completely removed the feeling. They just… took off the edge. They made Cate feel a little more normal, like herself— but the thought, that feeling that there was something missing, still sat on her shoulders.

Compared to Cate, you had a relatively conventional childhood, but of course, you had your own issues to deal with. Of course, you were also fucked up in your own way, you had powers after all.

The idea that there was someone destined to be yours, a companion and partner in this chaotic world, filled you with a sense of security. A warm buzz settled in the pit of your stomach—the knowledge that you weren't ever going to be alone, that there was someone out there who was yours, and yours alone.

Despite not being a frequent partier, you had reluctantly agreed to attend this particular event. Perhaps it was the promise of a good time with your friends, or maybe a secret wish to meet your soulmate.

You had definitely heard the rumors—the whispers and muttered conversations, the gossip that drifted around whenever Cate's name was mentioned. Her reputation preceded her, and it was why you never saw her skin, never without her signature gloves.

You were already on your second beer when you noticed Cate with a guy, Rufus.

"C'mon babe, c'mon…" Rufus murmurs, his hand tightening around her arm. He'd had a few too many himself and he was already growing impatient.

Rufus was not a good person, though he was attractive, and his reputation was infamous enough, that most students overlooked it.

Cate, though? She didn't care who he was or what he did. At heart, she was more drunk on the attention—the feel of his hands on her body—than anything else. A party girl with one too many substances, her smile just a touch too loose.

Rufus was a lot of things. A jerk. A creep. Self-entitled, arrogant, and a walking talking red-flag. His hand, large and heavy, roved beneath her top and settled on her hip. If they were alone, he'd push it further.

But Cate had too much to drink—she knew better than to be hanging around the likes of him, but the liquor was singing in her system and the world was suddenly so much more colorful.

Normally, you were the type to help anyone in need, no questions asked. But there was something more personal to it this time, an anger that flared up within you at the sight of him touching her.

You set down your drink, the glass clinking against the counter. You approached the pair, silently acknowledging that Rufus was taller and physically stronger than you. But you also knew that your powers made such factors irrelevant.

Rufus's hand jerked back quickly at your approach. He wasn't stupid, this guy, but it sure came damn close sometimes. Cate's head lolled onto his shoulder as she stumbled, and she sent you a slightly unfocused, half-lidded look.

"Fuck off, will you?" You order in a firm tone. A subtle glow lights your eyes, the barest hint of force behind the words.

He was a coward at heart, preferring to take advantage of those more defenseless than him, like Cate was at that moment. He scowls but does as he's told. He shoulders past a few people and melts into the crowd.

Cate stumbled and fell into you.It was almost comedic, the way she had to brace one hand against your shoulder to keep herself upright.

"Are you okay?" Stupid question, but still.

When she pulled back, her blue eyes sought yours out. Her head was spinning from the alcohol, and her fingers clutched at your sleeve like she was terrified you'd vanish like a dream.

For a long moment, Cate is speechless. A thousand words seem to lodge themselves in her throat as she pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, the alcohol in her system suddenly gone.

Those words. The words she's heard in her head countless times, her whole life— the first words her soulmates is supposed to say to her— said aloud to her.

God, even that little bit of skin contact is like an overdose. It's not like the brush of her fingers against yours, or a hand on your arm.

Cate's breath hitched, her fingers curling into your clothes. Her heart's thundering in her chest and she nuzzles further into you, practically purring.

"i don't feel so good," she mumbles against your neck, repeating those words. Your words.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you could. It was like the whole noisy world around them suddenly faded away. All you could see, all you could hear, was her.

Taking care of her that night, guiding her to bed and nursing her through her hangover the next morning, solidified a sense of protectiveness over her for you. It was undeniable; Cate was your soulmate, despite her reputation, and your feelings for her surpassed any reservations you might have once had. Those gloves of hers, concealing her skin and creating a barrier between you two, now irritated you.

The following morning, Cate appeared withdrawn, her eyes wide and filled with disbelief. It was as if she feared you were some mere figment of her imagination that would fade away at any moment.

You made it a habit to walk her to class, accompanying her like a devoted puppy. You initiated small touches, a brush of the hand here, a caress there, gradually allowing her to grow accustomed to your presence. Although she didn't open up much about her past with her powers, it was evident that the ability to control minds wasn't an easy burden to bear even here at Godolkin.

Cate's heart yearned for you for so many years, but now that you finally meet, a mix of excitement and fear welled up inside her. She was afraid of unintentionally harming you, of accidentally using her powers.

Your patience seemed endless as you allowed her time to adapt and grow comfortable. You were already deeply in love with her, knowing full well that your feelings would endure until your very breath. That's what being soulmates meant, right?

Lying together on the bed, your fingers gently tangling in her hair...

As time went on, she initiated contact more often, leaning into your touch. In public, she wouldn't hesitate to place her hand possessively on your waist or rest her head on your lap, claiming you as hers. In private, behind closed doors, when you lay wrapped in each other's arms, sound asleep, she clung to you, seeking even more of your skin against hers. You and Cate were inseparable, the embodiment of a couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. Dates that extended into sleepover after sleepover became the norm, and Cate even used her powers to convince the clerk to assign you a room together.

She trusted you enough to no longer wear gloves in your presence and in public, you would occasionally take them off yourself, placing gentle kisses on her knuckles. Everywhere you went, it was like Cate was glued to your side, craving your attention. And you give that to her. You traced her face with your fingers, whispering sweet nothings and soft words.

I love you. Those words— coming out of your mouth— they never fail to make her blood sing in her veins. She traces her touch along the shell of your ear, the curve of your jaw, following your neck as it flares into your shoulder. In this life and in next.

[eldritch-spouse]

Let me start this off by saying PINNIE, YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER, AND I LOVE HOW WELL WRITTEN YOUR CHARACTERS ARE!

The way you write villains is so compelling because, while they are evil, they are multifaceted, three-dimensional beings. They are monsters who have families and friends, hobbies, likes and dislikes, cute quirks, soft and tender moments, and some even have tragic backstories that caused them to be the way they are. But at their core, they are evil.

First off saiders. If were real, I would HATE their entire race and truly only wish the worst for them. They copulated with humans, and when those humans bore their children, they were disgusted. Instead of, just designing the human body to not be able to get impregnated by saiders—like a breeder with a human—no matter how hard they try, it'll never happen. They decide to hunt down the offspring and then pack up and leave, letting humanity expire but not before they killed Krulu’s creations, then tossed him into the null, forgetting about him and permanently damaging his form, and giving him an everlasting hatred for humanity for something THAT WASN'T EVEN OUR FAULT. But Krulu can't fight with the other saiders, so, of course, he'll take it out on beings astronomical weaker than him.

The most insurmountable case of villains getting everything they want with no consequences in this series has been Krulu and by extension his lackeys. For presumably years, he and took the lives of countless people, but he got to find love with two lessers, had two children, and supremely rules over perdition and heaven through them.

Maria, as devious and suspicious as she is, hates people who perform abortions, and I assume by extension, people who get them. But she finds it acceptable and fully permits Krulu to grab random humans—innocent or not—and let them be raped, killed, tortured, and maimed within the clergy. Humans who could be someone's mom, dad, sister, brother, CHILD! She claims to care about children so much, but I assume after they stop being small, helpless and cute she couldn't care less. I mean why should she care? She already has her charm and numerous kids with them.

She would probably watch humanity go extinct at Krulu’s hands if he did it in the most entertaining way possible.

And the worst part about it is that they both will never be punished for their actions.

The other saiders are never coming back; they thought we were all dead anyway. That one extra saider you said might come probably will take part in the torture, rape, and genocide of the human race.

Humans could NEVER fight back. The possibility of killing a saider is simply non-existent and even their WEAKER IN COMPARISON kids cannot be touched

Dorem sure as hell isn't going to do it despite the fact he CAN. He'll just groan that he has over a billion souls to deal with, and since no new humans will probably be born, souls will be eaten by the millions or reincarnated into monsters, demons, and possibly angels.

The supreme beings who are above it all—above the saiders and possibly every cosmic force—would not intervene in the name of complete cosmic neutrality.

Even if other monsters, demons, the clergymen, Adrul, Adelo, and even Miara's kids take human spouses their kids will not be human. I wanna say after 4 generations it'll mark the permanent end of the human race but even then not really.

What happened to breeders I assume will be what happens to humanity a very small group taken to an extremely remote area where they're experimented on, forced copulation, treated like a human zoo, and sold to the highest bidder who'd like to get their hands on the last rare piece of the once honored human race.

UGHHHH, I KNOW IT WAS A LOT. I LOVE YOUR BEAUTIFUL MIND! 💕💕

Well, I should clarify that this isn't really a happy universe or a very "black and white" one. All the characters in my blog, save for very few, are morally evil. In a bit of a bleak turn of events, even gods are great evil-doers here.

The siadar are a failing society of incredibly powerful entities, and as their sims, we all suffer because of that. They may have faded into obscurity under the much more hopeful fabrications that replaced them, but some never forget, such as the celestials- Who are "doomed" to forever revere the ones who left them to die.

Krulu is, to most, blatantly evil. And even if he ends up calming down in the future, he will never truly heal. The chance to heal was stolen from him, his state of mind is always reflected in how he executes things, how he governs the space he claimed as his own. He wants to be feared, he sees most humans and monsters not as actual people worth a shred of his time, but as reminders of what his worthless kin did- The flawed, grotesque things they preferred over his own immaculate brilliance, his care. And so, even if no one is there to see it, to be offended, he hopelessly tortures them.

Miara is not good. She doesn't claim to be. She doesn't care to prove herself to anyone. Miara has come to enjoy time on Earth after having thought hard about the state of her existence. She wants the surface to herself, if Krulu's plan comes to fruition, having no desire to intrude on his way of life beyond that. What he does is hardly her concern, she wants her own slice of peace, and that's that.

Dorem is a bum in a complete rut who just can't be bothered to do anything to help himself and sees no way to go back to his earlier life. The souls in this planet have become too chaotic, and he hates it all, he hates everything he just wants it to fucking stop- But it won't. It never will. This is his life. His eternity. And he rots away, eating the souls that bother him, hoping the two gods on Earth stay relatively placid.

And the Betrayer. Well. Certainly won't be better. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thenk you for your thoughts though! I'm happy you like stuff here. :7

[spurgie-cousin]

DO IT HILARY/SPURGIE-COUSIN! QUIT THAT JOB!! WE BELIEVE IN YOU!!! Like, in non-capslock: just casually following along your tumblr you seem to have a good safety net, and no job is worth that much of your mental wellbeing. Things will turn out great, and you'll be far happier away from that mess.

Thank you guys!! I've officially made the decision to quit, in going to offer to finish up everything in my inventory and be done because yea, it's just not working out.

Also yea anon 2, I've seen other people in this job leave in droves and the entire department is struggling due to a lack of employees and that makes the people pleasing part of me feel really awful so I totally relate. BUT I realize that's unhealthy and a job is not a volunteer thing I'm doing out out of the goodness of my heart, I need to be able to make money and not have weekly panic attacks over it, it's not my job to make my boss look good when frankly, she's not.

So yea at the end of today I'm going to let her know and I'm going to do it over teams (because if I do it over the phone initially, she will try and manipulate me into staying again) and I don't care if it makes me look bad or if I'll never be able to use her as a reference, I just need to get out. Thank you guys for the support 🥰 I really hope it ends up being a good decision that helps me grow as a person.

[natasha-in-space]

So I'm replaying Ray's After ending rn, and it got me thinking that what I adore so much about Rika as an antagonist is just how damn scary she can be. I always found those who cause harm with good intentions (at least in their point of view) much scarier than those who hurt you with pure intention on hurting you. I think the best example of it is this CG in particular:

Look at that. Such a loving, gentle expression on her face. Probably kissing his forehead. Because she loves him. Heck, without any context, this CG looks even sweet, if you think about it. And yet, all that is while Saeyoung is forcefully sedated on a powerful concoction of drugs even a trained agent like him can't do anything about (and Saeyoung WAS definitely trained to deal with this sort of thing, hence it's mentioned that this is a 'special' kind of drugs). He looks miserable. Bags under his eyes, his expression pained and troubled, even his hair is paler than usual. All that as a direct result of her actions. But she's utterly blind to it. What's scarier, is that she knowingly shuts off her understanding of what's really happening. She's not oblivious to it at all. She just chooses not to see it that way. Simply because she doesn't want to.

Rika is the type of antagonist that will cup your cheek into her warm hand with the most loving of smiles on her face, all while you are getting elixir poured down your throat. Even whispering to you that you're doing great, that the pain will soon pass, and that she can't wait to see you reach the happiness she knows you deserve. I won't be surprised if she even cried genuine tears of compassion during some ceremonies for her believers. All while being the sole reason behind their suffering.

And that's... God, that's terrifying to me. I love that about her.

Rika Kim, they could never make me hate you

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[juney-blues]

99% of conversations on anarchism about here are hampered by people having no clue what anarchists are talking about when they refer to "the state", including, it seems, the anarchists themselves.

[corset]

Really feeling that experience of being an autistic person in an environment that's terrible for me where I'm basically trying to figure out really hard how to not be an emotionally unstable wreck all the time who throws "childish tantrums" over "dumb shit" because I hate feeling like my family always expects me to just snap whenever anything happens and whether or not I do just depends on how much Repression Juice I've got left in the tank or how Unshitty the circumstances have been for the last week or even few days

[lisbonsteresa]

climbing the walls over this

[omarwolaeth]

Hearing some thoughts on Rin's lines about Clear Wing.

I don't disagree that it feels off-putting or wrong (whichever you prefer to describe it as), but I imagine her reasoning doesn't necessarily boil down to seeing herself as above Yuugo (though it's very possible it partially is; they both lived in a dog eat dog world - the City - and they're commons to boot - so they're fighting one another to duel Jack up until she's kidnapped, even if Yuugo says they were going to do it together), as much as it boils down to her being the responsible one.

Yuugo really isn't, so it might possibly be that, given how dependable of a monster Clear Wing (and Crystal Wing) are, Rin thinks her burn deck is a better fit for such a monster than Yuugo's luck based deck. The answer to this is obviously no as soon as anything to do with Zarc or Ray comes into the picture (Clear Wing and Yuugo are both cut from the same quarter of the Supreme King Dragon, even if it was by En Winds.)

Or, Rin is probably jealous she doesn't have effect negation in her monsters, and is bullying Yuugo about it because she's seemingly never really dealt with her frustrations in any other way (because Yuugo's always there.) Or maybe because Clear Wing is a unique card and Rin wants a copy too.

Alternatively, this is somehow the same thing as Yuuri's sadistic streak; a hold over from their Original self, and Ray decided Clear Wing should've been one of her monsters. As if Zarc would lose one of his dragons without a fight, though.

(Additional note I think is important but couldn't figure out where to put it in; Rin's defeat line in the overworld implies to me that Yuugo expects her to win her matches, like it shouldn't be hard for her. Yuugo's never gotten angry at her even if she's gotten angry at him multiple times and she's probably afraid of what he'd think - either this hasn't happened and she's worried all his frustrations with her would ungracefully tumble out, only putting up with her because she wins and can get food on their table even if we know that wouldn't happen - he loves her so much he'll ramble about her to anyone given half a chance, or it has happened before and Rin doesn't want to experience that sort of thing again, as though it would embarrass her.) (So her self esteem is either rock bottom when it comes to losing. or she's got too much pride to admit any of her losses to the one person who adores her)

[tsaiko]

Okay. So I get on the subway right, and sit in an open seat. Across the aisle and one seat down is a man and a woman, mid to late twenties. They are having furious whispered conversation with each other. Like you can tell they are trying to be quiet but emotions are high. it's tense. Which I don't notice at first but quickly pick up on.

After being a nosy shit while pretending to play on my phone, I figure out what is going on. These two are talking about the future of their relationship. I mean, odd place to have that discussion on a subway during rush hour, but whatever. It's drama that doesn't involve me. He wants to move forward with their relationship, possible move or move into together, and she wants to slow down.

Suddenly, he breaks in with a story about how his mom hates the city but she moved to New York to stay with his dad and has lived there for twenty years now. Because relationships are about sacrifices. At which point girlfriend is like "Okay, what have you sacrificed for our relationship?"

And boyfriend's example involved the time he missed doing something - I couldn't hear what - with his friends to go with her to her sister's wedding. She was 100% not impressed with his answer and it showed on her face.

They go back to their whisper argument and I can't pick up what they are saying to each other. Then suddenly, clear as day, girlfriend asked him "Name one thing I am interested in."

Homeboy just froze. He had no answer. The lights were on and no one was home. You could hear the dial-tone noise coming from his brain. He couldn't name one single thing his girlfriend was interested in. Hell, he looked like he was totally confused as to why she was even asking him the question.

He tried to talk to her a few times after that, but she was just silent. And I mean angry silent. Train pulls up to the station and she gets up. "Babe, this isn't our stop." Her reply? "It's my stop now." Doors open and she just fucking walks off and leaves him on the train.

He stares at her for a few seconds and then scrambles off after her.

My dude, I don't think you are recovering from that.

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Where You Belong

Prompt: you're caught in the middle of a tornado, tyler's there in the aftermath.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: angst, blood mention

A/N: surprise surprise, & not what i usually write, but twisters has recently been consuming my entire life. so here's an angsty lil imagine of hurt reader being comforted by the wrangler himself.

You made it about fifteen minutes down the road before you realized that you’d forgotten your phone… Again. 

After patting down your pockets and digging through your tote bag the best you could without crashing the car– you straightened yourself in the driver’s seat and sighed defeatedly. 

Stupid, you thought. Although you weren’t really that surprised by your mistake. You’d never been particularly attached to your phone, and this certainly wasn’t the first time you’d left it behind. 

But you’d been trying to be more mindful about remembering it. And just like that, Tyler’s voice popped into your head– no doubt scolding you for your carelessness. ‘What if something happened and I had to get a hold of ya?’ 

Thanks to another wild storm system brewing all over the midwest, Tyler was out chasing again today. And although you’d checked in on him earlier in the day, you knew there was always the possibility that things changed. Storms shifted– gained power, sometimes his team (although rarely) got things wrong. A pang of guilt spread through your chest at the thought– what if something happened to him out there and he needed to reach you? 

You could turn back and get your phone, of course. But you were already so close to town. And all you needed was a bottle of shampoo and a birthday cake for Tyler. You could be in and out of Lawton in less than half an hour if you were quick– home before he even knew you’d left your phone behind again.

What could really go wrong?

…

“Talk to me, Dani– what do you see?” Tyler asked into the walkie. They’d been tracking a handful of storms for the past few hours– Tyler watching the clouds, and Dani studying the radar. Right now, there were two that had peaked his interest– One was formulating south, the other to the northeast. 

“The storm south has higher wind speeds, but I think it’ll fade if it shifts. The other one has a weaker wind shear, but higher pressure. Either one has the chance to form or go, so I say trust your gut,” they answered.  

Tyler shifted his grip on the steering wheel, studying the dark, circling motion in the distance. 

“What’re you thinkin’, T?” Boone asked, camera trained on Tyler. 

He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip– trying to focus.

“Less moisture, less potential for an updraft, but way higher winds if we go south. Northeast though… she’s already got the motion and momentum, she just needs the winds to shift...” 

Boone stayed quiet– he knew that when Tyler talked out loud, it was generally rhetorical. 

Tyler took his eyes off the sky to study the world around him for a moment. 

“No pressure, T,” Dani said through the walkie. 

“Yeah,” Lilly chimed in. “We just spent all damn day chasing these things–”

“South,” he said suddenly. “I say let’s chase south.”

…

Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was standing in the middle of a wheat field with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. 

The storm had fizzled with the shifting winds, leaving them with nothing but a few scattered showers that mixed in with the sweat already pooling on his skin. 

“S’alright, T,” Boone said encouragingly with a shrug. He clapped him on the back. “We can’t catch ‘em all.”

Tyler sighed before joining Dani where they sat on the edge of the truck, scanning for other potential storms in the area. 

“What’s that there?” Tyler asked, pointing to what appeared to be a storm system heading west. 

Dani frowned. “What the hell… I think that’s the storm from earlier– the one moving northeast.”

“So it shifted?” 

“Shifted?” Boone said, lowering his camera for a moment to glance towards Tyler. “Where to? Can we make it in time?”

Tyler frowned, studying the movement. 

“That’s strange,” Dani mumbled under their breath. With a few clicks, they expanded the screen, showing a wider radius.

“What’s strange?” Boone asked.

Ignoring him, Tyler scanned the system, trying to trace the path without actually calculating it. “You don’t think–” 

Dani glanced his way. “Holy shit–”

“Hello?” Boone said. “Y’all gonna share with the rest of the class?” 

“I think she’s headin’ for Lawton,” Dani finally whispered. 

And although he’d been thinking it, all the color drained from his face when it was actually spoken out loud.

“Lawton?” Dexter asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Oh shit-” Lilly whispered.  

Lawton was the closest city to where the two of you lived– if it hit there, thousands of people could be in danger. And if it shifted again, even the slightest bit– it could head right for your small town instead.  

Despite the humidity, everything inside of Tyler went cold as he imagined you at home– puttering around the garden, blissfully unaware of what might be coming. 

“Will you uh, pass me– pass me my phone, Boone?” Tyler stammered, standing up from the truck bed. 

Boone reached into the backpack scattered near his feet and handed over Tyler’s cell phone, placing it in his outstretched hand. Tyler muttered a quick thank you before walking a few strides away as he pulled up your contact information.  

The call rang five times before making it to voicemail– your sweet voice asking him to leave a message and you’d get back to him. 

“Hey, baby– it’s me. Call me back as soon as you can. Alright, love ya.”

He clicked the phone off before immediately trying again. 

“C’mon,” he muttered as the line continued to ring. “C’mon, baby, c’mon,” he hummed nervously, kicking the grass with his boots when he heard your voicemail. “Hey– me again. Listen, I’m not trying to scare ya, but there might be a storm comin’ and I just wanna make sure you’re safe. Give me a call please.”

He paced back towards the group, sending you a quick text just for good measure as he did. 

“Alright, what’s the plan here?” Dexter asked. 

But Tyler wasn’t paying much attention as he obsessively dialed you for a third time. 

“What’s wrong, T?” Boone wondered. 

Without looking up from his phone, Tyler exhaled a frustrated breath. “She’s never got her damn phone on her– that’s what’s wrong.” The second he heard your voicemail for a fourth time, he chucked his phone towards his bag. “Damnit!” 

Boone swallowed thickly. “I’m sure she’s fine–”

Tyler hung his head. After a moment, he nodded, although he wasn’t entirely convinced that would remain the case if he didn’t get in touch with you fast. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to breathe– 

You were fine, he told himself. You were home, you’d hear the alerts if they were necessary, you knew to get into the basement. 

Tyler took a long, steadying breath. “Dani, what’s the speed of this thing?” 

“Uh, it’s moving– thirty-five miles per hour directly west. I think she’s gaining speed, though.”

“Alright, she’s fast,” Tyler remarked. “We have to be faster. Let’s head home, ladies and gents, we can take cover at my place once I know everyone’s safe.”

“You got it, T,” Lilly said. 

“Stay safe everyone,” Dani replied as they all dispersed to their respective vehicles. 

Tyler and Boone climbed back into the truck, tires screeching as they sped west towards Lawton, and home towards you. 

…

You were inside the bakery on Lowell Street– Tyler’s favorite place for any and all pastries, when you heard the thunder. 

Although thunder in Oklahoma wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, it was enough to make you turn your attention outside, just to see what kind of storm you might be up against on the drive home. 

“It’s gettin’ dark out there,” Gloria, the owner, said. She glanced at you over the counter and blew a strand of graying hair out of her face. 

You nodded in agreement, jumping slightly when another crack of thunder rang through the air. “Sounds like it’s getting closer,” you noticed. 

“I still can’t believe that boyfriend of yours goes out of his way to chase these storms. And his friends, too.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, me either. Bunch of adrenaline junkies.”

“Not me,” Gloria smirked. “We get enough chaos in this life, I don’t need to be chasin’ it.”

You returned her smile, recognizing that you might have more in common with the sixty-something year old baker in town than you did your own boyfriend. But you supposed that your differences were what drew you to Tyler. He was brave and thrilling and so alive. Although what he did scared the absolute shit out of you, there was nothing better than watching him exude excitement and just pure joy after he got home from a particularly powerful storm. 

“Was he and his crew trackin’ anything out here?” Gloria asked, using the tube of blue icing to write the birthday message you’d requested on top of Tyler’s cake. 

“Not here,” you replied. “He was south of OKC last I checked in.”

Which, you realized, had been far longer than you anticipated thanks to not having your phone. You mentally kicked yourself again for leaving it behind. If you’d brought it with you, you could have just given him a call now. Because unless he was smack dab in the middle of a goddamn tornado, he always answered your calls. Just a few reassurances from him could’ve calmed your fears about the storm brewing outside– told you that it was just a thunderstorm passing through. 

Not every thunderstorm means a tornado, he had said, you didn’t even know how many times by now. And each time allowed you to relax a little. Because unlike your boyfriend, you didn’t enjoy weather in quite the same way. In fact, after an EF4 had ripped through your home when you were just a child, you did your best to stay as far from tornadoes as Oklahoma allowed. 

“I’m sure it’s just thunder,” you began. 

But before you could finish your sentence, you heard the sudden pitter patter of hail beginning outside. Gloria lowered the icing tube while you took another step closer to the window to peer out. 

Dark, gloomy clouds swirled through the sky. 

That was when you heard the sirens. Loud and clear, they echoed through your ears in a terrifying, grim warning. 

…

As the storm tracked faster and faster the closer they got, Tyler’s first stop was your shared home just outside of Lawton. 

He didn’t even bother turning the truck off before he was hurling himself across the lawn, towards the front door. But before he even looked inside, his stomach dropped when he noticed your SUV wasn’t parked in its typical spot. 

Regardless, he practically ripped open the front door before running into the house, calling your name loudly into each room he searched, hoping that maybe you’d lent your car to your mom again– or magically parked it in the garage that was stuffed full of his gear. 

But it was no use– you weren’t there. 

He knew that for good as soon as he flung open the door to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, pillows arranged perfectly– and your phone sitting on the nightstand table, plugged in and clearly far away from you. 

“Damnit!” he yelled, kicking the door frame frustratedly. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. Frustration and anger brewed inside of him, but he knew that underneath all of that was fear– for you and your safety. All he wanted was to have you in his sights again– although preferably wrapped up in his embrace, the only spot he could ensure you were safe... Where you belonged.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Tyler made his way across the room and picked your phone up from the nightstand. Your background– a picture of you and him taken during your trip to Texas last year, lit up the screen. Accompanying it were the slew of notifications you’d missed– the first was the severe weather alert, the next few were all the missed calls from him. But at the very bottom of your screen was a reminder notification– one that allowed him to finally exhale the breath he’d been holding since he burst into the house. 

Get Tyler a bday cake. 

Sliding your phone into his back pocket, he raced back down the stairs to find Boone standing on the front lawn. 

“She’s in town,” he said, rushing towards his truck. 

Boone followed close behind. “How do you know?”

“If nothing else,” Tyler said, climbing into his truck, “she follows her schedule.”

…

“Gloria, you gotta listen to me–” you pleaded, hurrying around the counter to grab her hand. “If the sirens are goin’ off, it means we don’t have much time. Does the bakery have a basement, or– or a shelter?”

Gloria’s watery eyes met yours. Your heart sank the moment she shook her head dreadfully. 

“Okay,” you said shakily, trying not to panic. What would Tyler do? You looked around the bakery– with its old walls and sagging roof, you knew it wasn’t safe to stay here. 

“Gloria, we gotta go,” you said urgently. “We gotta find somewhere safe to be.”

With that, you tugged her towards the exit. 

As soon as you were outside, you felt the fierce wind whip your face, along with a few staggering pieces of hail. There was debris– leaves and sticks flying around in every which way, making it hard to see past what was right in front of you. 

Although you were trying to be vigilant, you didn’t even see the scrap of metal fly by your face.  “Shit!” you exclaimed, feeling it graze your cheek. Ripped skin was quickly followed by the feeling of warm blood trickling across your skin. 

“Are you alright?” Gloria asked, grabbing your arm. 

You used your free hand to press against your cheek before nodding. “We gotta get out of here,” you said. 

But just as you turned to try and gauge your surroundings, hoping to come up with a shred of a plan, you froze at what was looming in the distance. 

Winds whipped rapidly, the sky boomed, and a dark, wide funnel had formed– it’s tip already touching down on the ground. And it was coming straight for you. 

“Gloria, we gotta go–” you cried. “Now!” 

…

Tyler drove as fast as he could– foot nearly pressed down on the ground. He drove like his life depended on it. Because yours did– 

The truth was– he’d never given much thought to losing you. He was generally too preoccupied with wondering what you’d do if you lost him. He was the one putting himself in danger all the time, he was the one forcing his way in the middle of these storms. 

He didn’t know what he’d do without you– except be a shell of who he was now. 

“Holy shit–” he heard Boone say from the passenger seat. 

Tyler refocused his attention ahead, his eyes widening the second he saw what Boone was fixated on. 

It was hard to miss the giant, fucking tornado barreling right for Lawton’s array of buildings. 

“We’re too late–” Tyler croaked. “We’re too fucking late–”

“She’s smart,” Boone assured Tyler. “She knows where to go and what to do.”

Tyler’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator and drove faster. 

…

In retrospect, the laundromat probably wasn’t the best place for you to be. But there were few windows and the back room was lined with secure piping, all which jetted deeply into the ground, creating a solid anchoring point. 

There were a few other people huddled in the same room, already low on the ground and clutching onto one another. 

“Hold on to that!” you cried, practically pushing Gloria towards the corner of the room. She wound her frail arms around the piping before crouching down. You were right beside her, arms locked tightly on the piping as you felt the building start to shake. 

The storm outside was deafening. Winds whistled and boomed. You were pretty sure the woman beside you was screaming– but you couldn’t hear her above the noise of everything else. You tried to be brave– the way you knew Tyler would be if he were here. 

Once, about three years ago, an EF3 hit his parent’s ranch while the two of you were staying there for a long weekend. You remembered the way he stayed so calm, so collected through it all. After ushering everyone into the storm shelter, he wrapped his strong arms around you, anchoring you to him. The ranch didn’t shake like this though… And even though you’d been scared that night, it paled in comparison to what you felt now. 

This building was weak– the structure was unsound. You had no idea how close the tornado actually was, but you knew this thing wasn’t going to stay put. It was just a matter of if the pipes went deep enough into the ground and if you could hold on to them. Because you didn’t have Tyler holding on for you this time. 

You hoped he was somewhere safe– maybe tracking the storm that was about to kill you from a reasonable distance. 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you told Gloria, sweaty palms making your grip slip. “Just hold on–” 

The building began to shake harder– the very foundation rocking beneath you. Shortly after, pieces of the roof began tearing off, exposing the thunderous storm raging above. 

“I don’t–” Gloria cried. “I don’t think I can hold on!”

You tried loosening your own grip– hoping you could wrap your arms around her like Tyler had done for you before, or do something to help. But then you heard another ear splitting roar, and suddenly, the entire roof was being ripped off from the building. There was nothing you could do. You weren’t strong enough– 

“Hold on!” you screamed, tucking your head into your elbow and squeezing your eyes shut. “Just a little longer!” 

But as the words left your lips, even you didn’t believe them. 

…

By the time they finally reached town, the tornado had already moved on. 

Part of the reason why Tyler loved tornados so much was their power and speed. In his eyes– it was nothing short of an act of God to see what damage a simple funnel of wind could do in just a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds. 

Until he was faced with the inevitable tragedy of it all. 

Because it was one thing to see trees uprooted, or tractors rolled over. It was another to see an entire town had succumbed to a pile of debris– vehicles thrown this way and that– metal and siding and bricks scattered over every inch of the flat land– To know that people, his friends, his neighbors, you could be buried underneath piles of rubble– bodies broken and bleeding and hurt if they were lucky enough to be alive at all.

Tyler brought his truck to a screeching halt, not even hesitating before he was ripping off his seatbelt and hurling himself out of his seat. The second his boots hit the mud, he screamed your name as loud as he could. 

Eyes whipping around, he tried to process the scene before him. But it was hard to gauge where anything used to be– there was practically nothing left. 

“Tyler!” he heard someone scream in the distance. Head whipping to the side, he saw Lilly, waving her arms frantically. 

For a moment, Tyler let himself get his hopes up. He raced across the distance between them as fast as he could, despite all the obstacles in his way. But when he finally reached her, he was devastated to see that you weren’t there at all. Instead, Lilly was staring at a vehicle, flipped over and crunched like it’d been hit head-on by an 18-wheeler. 

And although it was damaged beyond repair, Tyler recognized it as yours immediately. 

He felt his chest tighten. “Christ–” he stammered, unable to fight back the tears burning behind his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair before hunching over, hoping the motion would allow him to finally catch his breath.

“Oh God,” he panted. “God, no– please, no–”

“She might not have been in it,” Lilly said quickly. 

But Tyler barely heard her. He was too fixated on the pounding in his ears–  

A wave of hopelessness washed over him, flooding his insides. He was too late– he couldn’t save you– he was too fucking late. 

“We’re gonna find her, T,” Boone’s voice was suddenly peaking through the fog. 

“Yeah, we won’t stop until we do,” Dani added. 

Tyler forced himself to take a few, steadying breaths. When he could, he straightened his back and glanced around. 

His whole team hadn’t given up on you. 

Neither could he. 

…

When you finally gained the courage to open your eyes, you were met by a fierce brightness. You coughed– lungs heaving as you struggled to breathe. 

“Gloria?” you tried to speak. “Are you okay?” 

You were met by an eerie silence– the calm after the storm. Blinking harshly a few times, you tried to gather up enough strength to sit up. But as soon as you did, you had a chance to look around… And boy, do you wish you hadn’t. 

There was nothing left– the entire town was gone… destroyed, buried in rubble and debris. 

“Gloria?” you called, groaning as you pushed the thick layer of roofing off from your legs. You grimaced once you saw the deep gash down the side of your thigh, oozing blood. 

Breath shuddering, you continued to scan the area– trying to wrack your brain for what the hell you were supposed to do next. The second you moved to turn your head, you winced, vision blurring. Slowly, you grazed along your forehead with your fingertips. When you pulled them away, you grimaced to see them coated in crimson liquid. 

You stared at it for far too long– unsure what else to do. You were hurt– probably worse than it felt, too if adrenaline had anything to say about it. You didn’t know if you could walk on your leg, or if you’d pass out the second you tried to stand up. 

You felt hopeless– completely and utterly alone. 

Until you faintly heard the sound of your name being called in the distance. 

It was enough to make you snap out of your trance, head whipping around to see Boone throwing aside a piece of siding. He called out a second time before turning and locking eyes with you from across the way. 

“Boone,” you said under your breath, like you couldn’t quite believe he was real. Because if Boone was here– calling out for you, that meant Tyler couldn’t be far behind. 

Boone yelled your name again before turning. “I found her!” he screamed, waving his arms. “Over here!” 

You fought back the guilt you felt for still not finding Gloria and moved to stand on shaky legs. 

“I’ll come back for you,” you promised her. 

Wobbly and weak, you limped towards him, trying your best not to fall in the cracks and crevices beneath the debris. You looked down, intending to watch your step, but instead you caught a glimpse of your leg and all the blood now coating your entire thigh and calf. Just the sight of it made you lose your balance. 

“Shit,” you gasped, as you landed harshly on the ground. You looked back up and saw Boone heading your way– only fifty yards or so from you. But then– right behind Boone, was a sight that made everything else melt away. 

“Tyler,” you exhaled, like it was a prayer tumbling from your lips. 

His long legs moved fast– practically running despite everything in his way. 

He’d make it to you– he’d get you. But if you got up and kept moving… he’d get there sooner. So, with whatever you had left inside of you, you pushed yourself up. Ignoring the pounding in your head and the throbbing in your leg, you limped forward. 

“Tyler,” you said again– not loud enough for anyone else to hear. It was like you just needed a reminder that really was right there. “Tyler–” this time, when his name tumbled from your lips, it came out as a sob– every emotion inside of you bubbling to the surface of your skin. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurred. 

He was so close now– you could hear the rubble shift as he stepped on it. 

He called your name… and God, if his voice wasn’t the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. 

“Tyler–” you cried again, throat choked from dust and tears. 

And then, just like that, his body was colliding with yours. Arms winding tightly around your shoulders, a familiar scent enveloping you, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, anchoring you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, face buried in his button down shirt. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered above you, lips grazing the side of your head. “I got you,” he said. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out– only a guttural, uncontrollable sob that made him hold you tighter. 

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered into your hair. 

“Tyler–” was all you managed to choke out. 

His thumb trailed up and down your hair, matted with mud and your own blood. “I’m here. I’m right here. I got you.” 

He held you tight, steadying your shaky frame. It was like he was the one thing keeping you from completely falling apart. Which was why your body almost recoiled when he finally pulled away. You needed him wrapped around you like that forever. 

You tried to resist, to pull him back, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. All you could do was stand there weakly while his wild, concerned eyes scanned the length of you. 

“I’m fine–” you tried to say. 

But he shook his head instantly. “You’re not fine. You’re hurt, we gotta get you out of here. Get an ambulance!” he yelled to Boone, who was lingering nearby, looking like he didn’t quite know how to help. Boone nodded instantly before hurrying off. 

“Tyler–” 

“Okay, I see the leg– what else?” he asked. “What else hurts?”

“My head,” you whimpered. “And my ribs–” you admitted, although you hadn’t quite managed to look at those yet. “But Tyler–” 

Before you could finish, Tyler’s hand gripped the hem of your tank top, pulling it up slightly. You winced as the fabric brushed over your ribs. But when Tyler pressed a hand on the bare skin, you almost screamed out in pain. “Sorry,” he said gently. “I gotta look though, baby. I gotta check it.”

You nodded, fingers squeezing the fabric of his shirt as he did. The pain was excruciating– enough to make your already-dizzy head start to spin. 

“I think they’re broken– at least a couple. Can’t say for certain.”

“Tyler,” you tried to repeat, tears still streaming steadily down your face. 

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he said once he saw the shift on your face. 

“It’s Gloria,” you finally spit out. “She’s out here somewhere, Tyler. We have to find her–”

Tyler’s gaze softened at your words. He pulled his eyes away from you long enough to quickly scan the scene. 

“Did you see her? Or know where she went?”

You shook your head, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “No–” you cried. “No, I don’t know where she went. Tyler, I have to find her–”

“Easy,” he soothed, winding an arm around your middle so that he could brace the majority of your weight. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We gotta get you checked out.”

“I can’t leave her–” you protested. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice gentle but stern. “You bleeding out on a pile of rubble isn’t going to help her, okay? Let me get you somewhere safe, Boone and Dexter can search for Gloria, alright?” 

After a moment, you nodded solemnly. “You promise?”

“I promise, baby. Now c’mon.”

Before you could protest, you felt Tyler’s arm swoop around the backs of your legs, while the other supported your back. In an instant, your feet are lifted off from the ground. You didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay your head against his chest. 

“There we go,” he soothed. “I got you.”

His thumb trailed along your back gently as he began navigating the pile of rubble around you. 

You felt safe nestled against him– and for the first time since you’d emerged from the rubble, you felt safe enough to allow your eyes to fall shut. 

“Hey, stay awake now, okay? We’re just a short walk to the ambulances– keep lookin’ at me.”

You tried– honestly you did. You opened them up, despite everything inside of you that screamed to close them. And then you fought like hell to keep them trained on Tyler– to study the lining of his jaw and the tan shade of his skin. But Tyler’s embrace was so warm, and his voice was just so soft. And you were so, so tired. There was nothing you could do when they fell shut again. 

Tyler pleaded for you, but unconsciousness got there first. 

… 

Even after the doctors assured him you’d be okay– that it was just exhaustion and blood loss from the trauma you’d endured keeping you out for so long, he couldn’t settle down. 

You looked so goddamn frail– so broken in that hospital bed. He couldn’t stand it. 

It was nearly ten at night before the rest of his team packed up to head back home, making him promise to call them as soon as you woke up. 

“We can stay if you want,” Lilly offered. There was no hint of sarcasm or malice in her tone. She was being genuine. Which was how Tyler knew he must have been an absolute mess. 

“That’s alright,” he croaked, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. Even he could hear the pain in his voice. 

Boone clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Love you, man.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Dani said. 

Tyler nodded, promised he would. But the only thing he needed was for you to wake up. 

…

His watch read midnight when you finally stirred. 

Tyler was sitting in a chair, pulled all the way up to your bedside, and was clutching your hand with both of his. He had his forehead resting against the hospital bed, but the second he felt movement, he shot up quickly, all the exhaustion fading instantly. 

Your face contorted into a frown as you squeezed your eyes shut once, twice, three times before they fluttered open. 

Scooting forward in his chair, he studied you as you glanced around– clearly trying to take in your surroundings and place where you were. The second you started to shift– like you were sitting up in bed in a panic, he squeezed your hand. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

Your head turned towards him, confusion and fear plastered all over your cut up, bruised face. Just the sight made his chest ache. 

“You’re safe.”

You fell back against the pillow and nodded slowly. 

“Tyler–” you began shakily, he could already hear the sob lodged in your throat. “I– I’m…”

“You’re okay, baby,” he assured you. 

“No– I’m- I’m so sorry–”

He froze, brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey, what’s this? Stop- you got nothing to be sorry for, baby.” 

“I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t hear the alert until it was too late. It was stupid– I just–” your face crumpled as you struggled to find words. “You always tell me not to forget it and I forgot it.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I just– I wanted to get you a birthday cake– I should have gotten it sooner, but I forgot– and…” your voice continued to crack and break with each breath you took. “I know you don’t love birthdays, but I love your birthday–” Tyler leaned forward in his seat, releasing your hand so that he could cup your cheek. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before his fingers traced your jawline delicately. 

“I think your cake got destroyed.”

He couldn’t help the soft smirk that spread across his face. “I’d say that’s probably a fair assumption.”

“I’m sorry–”

“Hey,” he soothed. “Fuck birthday cakes– I didn’t want one anyway. I was thinkin’ we could get a nice pie this year. What do ya think? Blueberry? Peach cobbler?”

“But Gloria made it–” 

Suddenly, your face fell and you were back to sitting up eagerly. “Oh my God, Tyler. Gloria– she–”

“She’s safe,” Tyler interjected quickly. “Thanks to you. Boone found her not far from where you wound up, clutching to some pipes. She had a few scratches, but that was it. She said the pipes were your idea.”

A rush of pride flowed through him as he beamed at you. His girl– getting people to safety in the middle of a tornado, despite how scared you must have been. 

Your watery eyes met his, lip quivering as you tried to speak. “Tyler– I didn’t think…” he could hear the tears in your throat before you even let them out. “I didn’t think we were going to make it. God, I don’t know how we made it.”

Your voice broke on the last word, a sob escaping your lips as you doubled over. Instantly, Tyler was out of his chair and sliding into the tiny, hospital bed beside you carefully avoiding your cracked ribs and stitched up thigh. 

Without even hesitating, you curled into his side, fingers grasping as his shirt like your life depended on it. 

“Shh,” he soothed, hand rubbing up and down your arm. “You did make it. You and Gloria both. You made it because you thought on your feet– I’m so proud of you,” he hummed, pressing his lips to the side of your head. 

He had no idea if you believed him or not– no idea if his words were sinking in at all. You clutched his shirt and cried against his chest– frame shaking with each breath you took. Tyler felt so helpless in that moment. All he could do was whisper reassuring comments and words of affirmation in your ear and hold you tightly against him. 

After a while, your breathing started to return to normal. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you let out a sigh. “You came to get me,” you said quietly, voice sounding so tired– like it was moments away from drifting off. 

Tyler pressed his lips to your hair, eyes squeezing shut. “I’ll always come to get you,” he promised. 

You nodded. “I know.” 

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm a few more times soothingly. “The laundry mat was a good idea– especially with the pipes,” he murmured into your hair. 

With what little energy you had left, you pulled away from him to glance up. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Does that mean I can be a tornado wrangler now?” 

He smirked playfully. “That depends, do you want to be?”

You bit your lip, like you were really thinking about it. After a moment, you scrunched your nose up. “And face one of those things nearly everyday? Not a chance.”

Tyler smiled, pulling you gently against his chest– right where you belonged. “There’s my girl,” he said lovingly.