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lilianne-tarot · 3 days ago

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PICK A CARD: Your Next Glow-Up You Didn't See Coming ♡ˎˊ˗

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

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── .✦ PILE I

Cards: Page of Pentacles, The Magician, The Hermit, and Two of Pentacles

OKAYYY BESTIE let’s get into it because this first pile is actually so powerful, like it's not playing small AT ALL. So sit down because this glow-up? It’s about to hit on ALL levels — mind, body, soul, wallet — like, every department is getting upgraded. Let's GO.

So first off, looking at these cards all together — — the energy I’m getting is literally like I’m soft-launching my main character era" yk you see those people who are not actually on your radar, but all of a sudden they SOMEHOW start to glow extraordinarily? YES MY LOVLIES! YOU ARE GONNA BE THEM! Like, this isn't some "oh I just got a haircut and now I’m cute" type of glow-up (though, pop off if you do). Deep, real, long-term changes.

I’m getting this vibe that you’re about to step into this era where you’re focusing on YOU, not in a selfish way but in a hyper-focused, "lemme water my own garden first" way. The spread here is really telling me like, you’ve either been forced to take time out (maybe life got quiet for a reason), OR you’re about to realize you need to pull back from distractions, fake people, draining vibes — all of it. Because guess what? You're realizing you are the magician — meaning, you don’t need anyone’s permission, you don’t need the validation, and you DEFINITELY don’t need to be begging for scraps when you’re out here capable of building the whole damn table. Like??? HELLO???

Secondly, the spirit is also saying "we working on the bag now." But like, from scratch. Like planting seeds. You may start a new job, project, side hustle, or even just start managing your money smarter. If you've been thinking "I need to get my life together" this is your green light from the universe. You’re about to become that person who has their stuff together — budgeting, investing, learning skills, GROWING. Tt’s not giving "easy" — like, you WILL be balancing a lot, and honestly, it might feel like a juggling act sometimes. But guess what? You can handle it. Your glow-up is learning to be THAT person who can multitask, who can handle their own business and still look good doing it. Like, in a few months, people are gonna be like "how did they get their life together so fast?" and you’ll just be smiling like, “oh, I was busy minding my business and working on my empire.” PERIOD.

You’re gonna have this aura — this mix of "don’t mess with me" and "I’m wise beyond my years." Like, people are going to start coming to you for advice, asking how you did it, wanting to be around your energy because it feels... powerful but peaceful. Like you’ll be unbothered in a way that makes people nervous but also lowkey obsessed with you.

Also, I’m getting you’re learning how to work with the universe, like manifesting without forcing. You’ll be doing that chill manifestation — like "I just set my intentions and it came to me" — not desperate energy, but aligned energy. This glow-up is very much "I attract, I don’t chase." Two of Pentacles and Hermit together is telling me... you need to take breaks, babe. Like, don’t let this “glow-up” become “burn-out.” You might feel like you have to hustle non-stop to get to where you want to be, but balance is key. Also, watch out for imposter syndrome — Page of Pentacles + Magician says you’re stepping into a new version of yourself, and you might feel like "am I even qualified to be this person?" YES, YOU ARE. Even if you’re starting from scratch, you’re capable and worthy of everything you’re building.

So darling, if you picked this pile — your next glow-up is ICONIC. Like, people won’t even recognize you (in a good way). You're about to be AMAZING.

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── .✦ PILE II

Cards Pulled: Ace of pentacles, The Empress, Wheel of fortune, The high priestess

THIS PILE???! the energy coming from this spread is actually INSANE. If you picked this, spirit is basically handing you the golden ticket to your ultimate glow-up—like, this isn’t just a little "I got my life together" moment. No.

BABYYYY, YOU’RE BEING ELEVATED IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE.

First of all, your aura?? It’s about to be UNTOUCHABLE. Like, people are going to look at you and just know something about you has changed. This isn’t just a surface-level glow-up—it’s a deep, soul-level shift. You’re about to embody THE Empress energy, meaning you’ll be glowing from within. You’re learning how to step into your soft power—that kind of energy that doesn’t have to chase, because it naturally attracts. This pile is giving ultimate divine feminine energy (regardless of gender) because you’re stepping into a place of receptivity, abundance, and ease. Instead of forcing things, they’re just flowing to you.

And the best part? You’re actually ready to RECEIVE it now. This glow-up is about knowing your worth—not questioning it. Before, you may have struggled with self-doubt or over-giving, but now?? You’re the one sitting pretty, choosing who and what gets access to you.

MONEY. IS. COMING. Like, literal, tangible wealth. Stability. Security. If you’ve been waiting for a new job, a business idea to take off, or an unexpected financial opportunity—it’s happening. The Wheel of Fortune is literally spinning in your favor, so be ready to snatch up these blessings the SECOND they arrive. But here’s the thing: this isn’t just quick cash, this is generational wealth type energy. You’re about to start building something solid, something that lasts.

And don’t even get me started on your overall energy shift around money. You’re moving out of that “I hope I get this” mindset and stepping into the “OF COURSE I’m getting this” mindset. DAMN. You are about to become so intuitive, so in tune with yourself, so UNBOTHERED by the outside world because you just KNOW things. Like, your intuition? Sharper than ever. You’ll be seeing through people like they’re glass—no one can hide their true intentions from you anymore.

The best part? You’re actually trusting yourself now. Before, you may have second-guessed your gut feelings, but after this glow-up? No more doubting. If something (or someone) feels off? You’re out. No explanation needed. Your boundaries are getting STRONGER, your standards are getting HIGHER, and your patience for BS is getting LOWER. And spiritually?? You’re leveling up FAST. If you’ve been working on manifesting something, just know it’s already on its way to you. Your energy is so magnetic right now, you don’t even have to do much—the universe is delivering.

This glow-up is your REWARD. The universe is literally saying:

“You’ve done the work. You’ve been patient. Now, watch how everything finally falls into place for you.”

Babe, this is it. The glow-up you’ve been waiting for? It’s HERE. Get ready, because the universe is about to bless you in ways you never even saw coming.

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── .✦ PILE III

Cards Pulled: 10 of wands, 3 of cups, 7 of swords and page of wands

First of all… BABY. Sit down 'cause this glow-up is not for the weak. Like, if you’ve been feeling like life’s been chewing you up and spitting you out lately—yeah, I see it baby, you are TIRED. Like, when’s the last time you actually relaxed without guilt? 'Cause you’ve been in this energy of "I have to do everything alone or nothing will move"—and babe... let me be real with you, that era is about to END. Like, done. Period.

But here’s the tea—before we get to the glam part of this glow-up, the cards are giving me the realest real: you need to drop some sh*t you’ve been carrying. And I don’t mean just chores or tasks, I’m talking people who take and take and don’t give anything back. 'Cause with that 7 of Swords staring me down like 👀... there are people around you who are sneaky AF. Like, smiling in your face but pocketing your energy behind your back. And you KNOW this, don't you? Like your gut's been telling you but you've been brushing it off because you didn’t want to cause drama. Well... guess what? This glow-up is gonna be about stepping into your "main character who doesn't have time for snakes" era.

And oh honey, when you do that? BOOM—Page of Wands energy kicks in like I'm seeing you finding this spark again, like you suddenly wake up and remember, "Oh wait, I’m actually THAT person." Like, you start to dream again, you get ideas, you wanna dress up cute for no reason, maybe even change your hair—like full-on "watch me thrive" energy. And it’s not gonna be from nowhere—because 3 of Cups is here like "babe, we're about to party." Yes, like real friends, real connections. You might start surrounding yourself with people who actually hype you up, and you’ll realize that love and support don’t have to be begged for. And once that circle starts to shift? You’re gonna wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

But okay—let's zoom out 'cause I'm not done. Sitting at the back of this whole spread is Ace of Pentacles, like a secret boss card. So let me tell you this: your glow-up isn’t just about feeling better emotionally (although YES you will), it’s also about money, stability, and opportunities. The universe is like, "Oh you finally cut off what’s been draining you? Here's a fat coin and an open door, love." Like fr, I'm hearing "new job offer," "new income stream," or even like moving somewhere better for your peace.

And get this—once you start choosing yourself, the glow-up starts snowballing. You’re walking lighter 'cause you dropped those wands, you're vibing higher 'cause your circle got real, and you’re out here looking like a snack with plans, not just vibes. But here’s what I’m feeling deeply: this glow-up is gonna be a slow burn—not one of those "overnight TikTok transformation" type of things (sorry bestie, I gotta keep it real). This is a "let me slowly rebuild myself in a way that lasts" glow-up. Something you’ll look back on in a year and be like, "DAMN, I really changed everything for the better."

Also, side note: the Page of Wands and Ace of Pentacles together, this might be a time where you’re about to start that side hustle, that creative project, that thing you’ve been scared to do 'cause "what if it doesn’t work out?" Well, guess what? The cards are like, "What if it DOES?"

So yeah pile 3—this isn’t just a glow-up. This is a rebirth. It’s giving phoenix rising from the ashes. It’s giving "new chapter, who dis?"And you deserve every bit of this new life.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

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three--rings · 17 hours ago

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I mean frankly, if this kind of thing is a problem in your games, you're playing with the wrong people. And playing the wrong adventures, written a long time ago.

There's a reason DND 5e has been entirely rewritten to rename race to species and remove all "these people are all evil" or even "these people are all strong" or any implication that your species determines your stats. (These are the 2024 rule revisions.)

I've been playing dnd heavily for 7 years , mostly pre-written adventures, a lot at open invite tables, and I've rarely if ever run into any "let's kill them cause they're goblins." My first adventure we adopted a goblin that was part of a group we were supposed to kill, and that was a open table very mixed group.

At the very least there's reasons always written for why you need to kill people, like they're killing folks or they fell under the influence of the evil thing, they can't be reasoned with because you don't speak their language, etc. And still most of the time parties will take a job and be like "we'll look into it, but we're not promising anything" and rock up ready to talk to the troublemakers.

IDK certainly 15 years ago the culture of dnd was different. My DM told me a story about a group she was in with a paladin who insisted on slaughtering everyone in sight. But, as someone pretty tapped into the active player community, in a conservative area even, people who do shit like that pretty quickly find no one wants to play with them.

I am just started to DM myself and I've started with some very basic pre-written stuff that's pretty generic 'go here, kill folks and bring macguffin back" and my party was so reluctant to kill the village of little evil guys in the first adventure. I had to make it very clear they had been thoroughly corrupted by the evil influence and were extremely paranoid and just not going to listen or budge at all, and killing them and destroying the evil thing was the better option. But also that's written into the adventure. Because you HAVE to expect the party is going to have moral questions.

One of the tensest dnd sessions i ever had was a four hour session when we did nothing but debate which side to choose in an ongoing war because they both had flaws and there wasn't a clear Good Guys side. The party was split and it took us that long to come to a consensus on who to go with. And you tell a dnd player that and they'll nod like "yeah been there man."

So if people you're playing with are running around like amoral assholes, you need to consider who you hang with honestly.

Putting all tabletop players into a college level ethics class and forcing them to turn in a paper on moral philosophy before buying a new book

#dnd #my dnd stories

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jungwnies · 2 days ago

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roommate from hell - oscar piastri (4/5)

୨ৎ : pairing : oscar piastri x gn!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : forced into an accidental roommate situation, oscar and you struggle with clashing habits, sarcastic banter, and unexpected tension…until frustration turns into something much deeper.

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy & light angst (barely...) ୨ৎ : tws : forced proximity, mild conflict, emotional tension, and mutual pining. ୨ৎ : wc : 1242

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

You paced around your room, phone pressed to your ear as your friend tried very hard not to laugh at your situation.

"So let me get this straight," they said, their tone already way too smug for your liking. "You overheard Oscar telling Lando that he doesn’t know if something is happening between you two, and now you’re spiraling?"

"I'm not spiraling," you said, stopping mid-step. "I just—Why did I even care what he said? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me. We’re just… tolerating each other at this point."

Your friend hummed in a way that made it very clear they did not believe you. "Uh-huh. And tell me, when he said he doesn’t know if he feels something, what did you want him to say?"

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

That stupid sinking feeling was still sitting in your stomach, the same one that had hit you the moment Oscar didn’t say he felt something. Because, for some reason, you had wanted him to.

You groaned. "I hate this."

"You hate realizing you have a thing for your roommate?"

"He's not—" You paused. "Oh, my God. I don’t have a thing for him."

Your friend snorted. "Right. You just spent the last fifteen minutes freaking out over nothing."

You flopped onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I’m not freaking out. I just… Maybe I got used to him being around."

"Uh-huh."

"And maybe it’s kinda nice that we get along now."

"Mhmm."

"And maybe—maybe—it was kinda shitty to hear him sound so unsure about me when I was kinda sure about him."

There was a pause.

Then, finally, your friend said, "Babe, you’re so screwed."

You groaned, rolling onto your stomach. "I know."

You did your best to shake off the whole feelings crisis after that, but something about it still lingered in the background. You weren’t weird around Oscar, but you definitely weren’t normal either.

And it didn’t help that he was completely unbothered. He went about life as usual—making coffee for two without a word, leaving his gym bag in the hallway, making sarcastic remarks at you over dinner. You had convinced yourself that nothing had changed, even though it absolutely had.

The only real difference was that now, you were hyperaware of him.

The way he smelled when he came home after a workout. The way he concentrated when playing some mindless game on his phone. The way he leaned against the counter when talking, all relaxed and casual.

It was fine. It was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Almost a month had passed since the roommate disaster began, and suddenly, Greg was back in your lives.

It started with an envelope on the counter, casually placed there like it wasn’t about to cause problems.

You stared at it, then at Oscar. "What’s this?"

He didn’t even look up from his phone. "Greg dropped it off while you were out."

You hesitated before picking it up and reading the note attached.

Greg had finally gotten your security deposits back.

Which meant you were no longer stuck in this apartment together.

Which meant if you wanted, you could leave.

Oscar looked up when you went quiet, glancing at the note in your hands. "Oh."

You blinked at him. "Yeah."

Neither of you said anything for a second.

Then, finally, you cleared your throat. "So, I guess this means we don’t have to keep sharing the place if we don’t want to."

Oscar nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Another pause.

Neither of you moved.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "Do you… want to move out?"

Oscar’s gaze flickered to yours for just a second before he shrugged. "I don’t know. Do you?"

You didn’t answer right away.

You should have said yes. You should have said you were looking forward to getting your own space again, to not having to deal with the thermostat war or the way he left his shoes directly in front of your door.

But for some reason, you hesitated.

For some reason, you weren’t entirely sure.

"Guess we’ll figure it out," you said finally, setting the envelope back down on the counter.

"Yeah," Oscar said, his voice unreadable. "Guess we will."

The weirdness settled in after that.

Not bad weird. Just… weird.

You noticed how neither of you acknowledged the envelope again after that conversation. It sat on the counter for two days, untouched, like a silent reminder that things had to change but neither of you wanted to be the first to say it.

You still moved around each other in the apartment like normal, still bickered over stupid things, still stole his hoodies, still watched bad reality shows on the couch.

But it felt… different.

Like there was something else hanging in the air between you.

And Oscar noticed.

At first, he didn’t say anything, but you caught him watching you a little longer when you were talking, tilting his head slightly like he was trying to figure something out.

Then, one night, after dinner, he finally said something.

"You’ve been weird lately," he said, watching you over the rim of his water glass.

You nearly choked on your drink. "Excuse me?"

He set his glass down. "You heard me."

You frowned. "I have not been weird."

"You have," he countered, completely unfazed. "You’ve been acting… different. Quieter. Less annoying."

Your face deadpanned. "Less annoying?"

"Yeah." His lips twitched, like he was enjoying this. "Almost like you’ve been thinking too much. And not about how to sabotage my thermostat settings this time."

You scoffed, trying to act casual. "Maybe I just ran out of energy to deal with your deeply flawed way of living."

Oscar leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe."

There was a pause.

Then he said, "Or maybe it’s about the deposit letter."

You immediately busied yourself with wiping an already clean spot on the counter. "Why would it be about that?"

Oscar didn’t answer right away. When you glanced up at him, he was watching you carefully.

"You tell me," he said simply.

You felt something in your stomach twist.

For a second, you thought about just admitting it. About saying I don’t know why I haven’t packed my bags yet. I don’t know why I don’t want to.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you forced a smirk, grabbed your cup, and turned toward your room.

"Well," you said over your shoulder, "if you think I’m being weird, you should’ve said something sooner."

Before he could respond, you disappeared into your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

You exhaled, leaning against it for a second.

What the hell were you doing?

It was just a lease. Just an apartment. Just a temporary situation that had somehow turned into something too comfortable.

You were supposed to leave.

You were supposed to want to leave.

But now, with the deposit in hand and the option finally there, the idea of not seeing Oscar every day, of not sharing space with him, of not arguing over the smallest things just for the fun of it…

It didn’t feel as easy as you thought it would.

And judging by the way Oscar had been watching you, you weren’t the only one feeling it.

You climbed into bed, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you’d bring it up.

Maybe.

Or maybe you’d just wait for Oscar to do it first.

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#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies #jungwnies

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ebonyheartnet · 2 days ago

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Jason wished he could give a fuck beyond the hostage they were here for, but honestly? This latest cult’s lack of originality just pissed him off. Times like this, he wished contacts were an option to hide the glow so Dick would stop it with the puppy dog eyes.

“Stupid fucking corrosive reservoir condition,” he muttered.

“All good, Hood?”

“I’m fine, O. Just being a normal amount of crazy.”

“Chatter,” Batman snapped.

Jason groaned and checked his position for the fifth time. On Batman’s signal, they all dropped.

The plan was simple: neutralize the doomsday cultists trying to summon a creature to protect its daughter. They’d done harder, more complicated extractions with half the manpower and a quarter of the time.

Maybe it was the itch in his bones.

Maybe it was the sudden headache.

Maybe it didn’t matter what distracted him, because the outcome was the same. Jason had been pulling the unconscious hostage out of the summoning circle when he felt something hot against his neck.

Of course someone got a lucky shot.

All Jason could do was fling the girl clear as the green rose around him.

____

“Madam, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to step back,” Alfred said calmly, cocking his shot gun.

“Good thing you’re not gonna need that since it won’t work,” the glowing woman said. She crossed her arms and tapped a spectral foot. “Listen, this is entertaining, but it was a fight just to get here. I know you can help me get to my son.”

“And I believe I asked you to identify yourself.”

“Right, Jason didn’t have any pictures of me…”

“Madam, I will not ask—“

“Catherine Todd, at your service, Mr. Alfred.” The ghost glared. “Some fucker decided to botch summoning a, “nurturing spirit that would burn the world for their child,” so here I am.”

Alfred blinked, which was practically a spit take for him, and the shot gun lowered a fraction.

“Ms. Todd, that is quite the remarkable story. I don’t mean to cast any doubt, but…”

“Did I mention that I beat the shit out of Sheila for the right to be here?” Catherine’s smile was all knives. “The bitch might be blood, but that’s my baby she sold out. The spell didn’t leave much room beyond that.”

“Does that sound plausible?” Alfred said into his comm.

“It’s way more than probable,” Oracle responded. “I’ve lost Hood, RR, Wing and B. Black Bat was closest and is attempting recon.”

“Tell Barbara that Jason falling into the circle probably triggered a strong enough pulse to fry their tech. Ecto doesn’t play well with untreated electronics.” Catherine laughed at the carefully blank look Alfred gave. “Dead men tell no tales is a fucking lie. We’ve gotta pass the time somehow.”

“Well that’s… Hmm.” Barbara groaned. “If she knows, she knows. Bringing her down might be worth it.”

It was finally Alfred’s turn to smirk. He opened the door and lead Catherine towards the cave. Bruce wouldn’t like it, but he could be mollified. Video evidence of Sheila’s loss would be a powerful bribe.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #ebony writes the thing #batfam #danny phantom #round robin #feel free to add on!#yes. the hostage is one sick Ellie Phantom.#Danny’s gonna be PISSED

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evenyvn · 2 days ago

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Is That Me?

Streamer!Yunho x Fem!reader

summary : in which yunho makes his in game avatar eerily similar to you and thought no one will notice.

cw : she/her reader, sfw, fluff, gaming streamer yunho, yunho is a tsundere, the reader got some sort of cute agression towards yunho, kisses, they are in love your honor🙏 very short.

this is inspired by this trend on tiktok where people makes their game avatar look like their girlfriend and i find it absolutely adorable

Masterlist

Yunho had been live for a couple of hours now, the streamer is deeply focused on customizing his character in a new RPG. He had spent an embarrassingly long time tweaking the facial features—adjusting the shape of the eyes, softening the lips, picking the right skin color. His chat had caught on quickly.

> “Yunho, that’s literally Y/N.”

> “Bro, you’re not even being subtle.”

> “Tell me why this character looks IDENTICAL to your girlfriend.”

> “Obsessed much?”

He scoffed at the comments, shaking his head. “Nah, nah, it’s just a coincidence,” he muttered, but his chat was relentless.

> “Sure, dude. You even picked her exact beauty mark.”

> “The denial is crazy LMAO.”

But Yunho paid no mind. He was too immersed in finalizing the outfit choices, his eyes locked on the screen, completely unaware of the soft creak of the front door opening behind him.

You had just gotten home from work, tired but excited to finally see your boyfriend. You walked through your shared apartment, following the familiar sound of your boyfriend voice on his gaming room, opening his door only to stop dead in your tracks when you caught sight of his screen.

your eyes widened.

Is that… you on his game?

Yunho was still too focused, humming to himself as he adjusted the character’s hairstyle.

You grinned mischievously before creeping up behind his chair. Without warning, you threw your arms around his neck from behind, pressing against him as you practically yelled in his ear, “IS THAT ME??”

Yunho jumped. His whole body stiffened, his hands jerking the mouse so hard that his character spun in circles on screen. His chat exploded.

> “SHE CAUGHT YOU LMAOOOO.”

> “BUSTED BUSTED BUSTED.”

> “OH, YOU’RE SO DONE.”

He turned his head slowly, wide-eyed, meeting your smug gaze. “Wh-What are you doing here?” he stammered, ignoring the way his ears turned pink.

“I live here, Yunho.” You giggled, squeezing him tighter. “Now tell me—” you pointed at the screen “—why does this character look EXACTLY like me?”

“I mean how are you home so early? and It’s just a coincidence.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant.

You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest. “So you’re saying I look basic?”

Yunho’s hands shot up in defense. “No! No, that’s not what I meant—” While he's trying to think of an excuse, his chat was having the time of their lives.

> “AW HELL NAW HE FELL FOR THE TRAP.”

> “RIP Yunho 1999-2025.”

> “Just admit it, bro.”

Meanwhile, you leaned closer, pressing loud, exaggerated kisses all over his cheek and jawline. “Aww, you’re so cute~” you cooed between kisses. “You made me in your game and tried to act like you didn’t! That’s adorable!”

“Quit it!” Yunho whined, wiggling in his chair, but he wasn’t really resisting. His face was completely red now as he tried to hide a big grin on his face behind his hand.

You finally stopped, grinning ear to ear. “Admit it, baby,” teasingly tilting your head. “You remember my face so well you made my character without even looking at a picture, huh?”

Yunho pursed his lips, staying painfully silent, face still hidden behind his hand. His chat knew the truth.

> “He 100% did.”

> “Bro has her memorized at heart.”

> “Simp behavior and I respect it.”

After a moment, Yunho sighed in defeat. “...Maybe.”

“Maybe?” you gasped again, dramatically clutching your heart. “The bare minimum acknowledgment??”

Yunho rolled his eyes, finally relenting. He reached for your wrist and tugged you onto his lap. “Fine, fine. Yeah. I made her look like you on purpose. Happy?”

You beamed, wrapping your arms around his neck again. “Very~”

“Alright, but now you have to stay and stream with me,” Yunho said, acting as if he was the one making the demands.

You didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

And so, for the rest of the stream, You sat comfortably on his lap, constantly pointing out every little detail he got right—down to the curve of your smile and the arch of your eyebrows—while Yunho pretended to focus on playing. His chat, however, wouldn't live this down.

> “Yunho’s whipped and we love to see it.”

> “Best stream ever.”

> “Y/N never shuts up about how cute he is and honestly? Same.”

Even though Yunho stayed quiet, his shy little smiles gave him away. And deep down, he didn’t mind—because, well… they weren’t wrong.

divider by @.adornedwithlight | likes, reblogs, and comments, are very appreciated ♡

#✦;; yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x y/n #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fic #streamer!yunho

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bueckersstuff · 3 days ago

Text

SICK & TWISTED

Part I Part II Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

You knew who Paige Bueckers was.

Of course, you did.

Everyone at UConn did.

She was Paige Bueckers, after all—golden girl, basketball star, the kind of campus royalty people whispered about when she walked by. But you didn’t know her. Not personally. She was just someone you saw from a distance, always with Azzi Fudd, always untouchable.

Which was why it was weird seeing her here, alone at the bar, gripping an almost-empty glass like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

She was wasted.

You weren’t sure how long she had been drinking, but from the glazed look in her eyes and the way she swayed slightly on the stool, it was clear she was deep in it.

Still, none of this was your problem. You weren’t friends. You weren’t even acquaintances. So you ignored her, focused on your own drink—until she turned, eyes locking onto you like she was seeing you for the first time.

"You’re in my psych class," she slurred.

You blinked. "Uh…yeah?"

A lazy smile tugged at her lips. "Knew I recognized you."

You just nodded, unsure why she was even talking to you.

Then Paige let out a sigh, rubbing her face. "I am so fucked up."

You frowned. "What?"

She waved a hand, vaguely motioning to the air.

"Everyone's expectations fucking me up." Then she scoffed, shaking her head. "I’m so fucking tired, man."

There was something in her voice, something raw and aching, that made you hesitate. This wasn’t the confident, untouchable Paige Bueckers everyone knew. This was someone unraveling at the seams.

Still, you weren’t sure what to say. You barely knew her.

But Paige—Paige was looking at you like you meant something in this moment. And before you knew it, she was grabbing your wrist, tugging you toward the dance floor.

"Come on," she mumbled. "Just—just for a second."

You didn’t even like dancing, but somehow, you let her pull you in.

The bass thumped through the room, the air thick with sweat and cheap alcohol. Paige was close, her fingers still wrapped around your wrist, her breath warm against your cheek as she leaned in.

"Do you ever feel like you’re drowning?" she murmured suddenly.

You stiffened slightly. "What?"

Her grip on your wrist tightened for half a second before she let go, tilting her head back as if the ceiling had answers. "Like no matter what you do, no matter how much people love you, it’s never enough?"

You hesitated. "I mean...yeah, I guess."

Paige let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Fucking sucks, huh?"

You had no idea what was going on in her head, but before you could ask, she turned back to you—closer now, her pupils blown wide.

"You're kinda cute," she mused, her voice barely audible over the music.

Your stomach flipped for a second, but you shook it off. "You’re drunk."

"Maybe." A slow smile spread across her lips. "But I’m not blind."

Your breath caught in your throat as she leaned in.

It happened too fast.

One second, she was just looking at you, her expression unreadable.

The next, her hands were on your face, and her lips were on yours.

It was messy, uncoordinated—alcohol and heat and recklessness.

You froze.

Then, instinctively, you pushed her back, breath coming short.

"Paige—what the fuck?"

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her blue eyes still clouded with something you couldn’t quite place.

And then, just as fast as it happened, she laughed—a dry, bitter sound that barely reached her eyes.

"Shit," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "I—I shouldn’t have—"

Without another word, she turned and stumbled away, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there, stunned.

Paige Bueckers was crazy.

The next morning, you woke up to chaos.

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Your roommate was staring at you like you’d just murdered someone.

"What the hell did you do?"

You frowned, grabbing your phone. One notification stood out among the rest.

A Twitter post. A picture. You. Paige. Kissing.

Someone had seen. Someone had snapped a shot of that split-second mistake. And now the entire school—maybe the entire country—knew.

Your stomach dropped.

The headlines spread like wildfire.

Paige Bueckers caught cheating on Azzi Fudd?

UConn’s golden couple crumbles!

Who the hell is this girl?!

The dorm room was suffocatingly silent.

Azzi stood stiffly, arms crossed, phone clenched in her hand. The glow from the screen cast harsh shadows across her face.

Paige stood a few feet away, still in the same clothes as last night, her hair a mess, her face pale.

Azzi turned the phone toward her. "What the fuck is this?"

Paige swallowed hard. "Azzi, I—"

"Don’t." Azzi’s voice was dangerously quiet. "Just answer me."

Paige’s hands shook. "I was drunk."

Azzi let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, so that makes it okay?"

"No—" Paige stepped forward, eyes glassy. "I swear, I don’t even know why I—" She let out a shaky breath. "I love you, Azzi. You have to know that."

"Do I?" Azzi’s voice cracked. "Because if you loved me so much, why the hell would you do something like this?"

Paige’s heart clenched. "You are. You are, Azzi, I just—I wasn’t thinking. I was fucked up, I was—"

"No." Azzi’s tone turned sharp. "That’s not an excuse. You had one job, Paige. One fucking job—to love me and only me. And you—" Her voice broke, her hands trembling. "You threw it all away for what? For some random person you don’t even care about?"

Paige stepped closer, tears brimming in her eyes. "Azzi, please—"

"Don’t." Azzi took a step back, shaking her head. "Don’t touch me. Don’t beg like this wasn’t your choice."

Paige’s breath hitched. "It wasn’t—"

"Yes, it was." Azzi’s voice was raw now. "You chose to kiss her. You chose to fucking ruin us."

Azzi let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Do you have any idea how many girls have thrown themselves at you, Paige? How many times I watched them flirt with you, practically begging for your attention?" Her voice cracked, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. "And never—not once—did you ever let them in. Not even for a second. Not even a fucking glance."

Paige closed her eyes, guilt crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Azzi’s voice turned hollow. "Except this time. Which makes this so much worse." She gestured to the phone. "What was so different about her, Paige? Why her?"

Paige’s breathing was uneven. "It wasn't like that, Azzi."

"Bullshit." Azzi’s hands clenched into fists. "You don’t just wake up one day and decide to throw everything away. You don’t just—just forget about us. About me."

Paige stepped closer, desperate. "I love you."

Azzi shook her head. "No, you don’t."

"I do—"

"Then why wasn’t I enough?"

Silence.

Paige’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Because there was no answer that wouldn’t hurt.

Azzi blinked rapidly, voice trembling. "I have spent years loving you, Paige. Standing by you. Defending you. Supporting you." Her breathing was shaky. "And I never—I never thought you’d do this to me."

"I would do anything to take it back," Paige whispered, desperate. "Please. I—I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t—don’t leave me."

Azzi inhaled sharply, eyes shimmering with tears. "You should’ve thought about that before you kissed someone else."

Paige shook her head violently, vision blurred. "It meant nothing! I swear to God, it meant nothing!"

"It meant enough to ruin us."

Silence.

Paige’s breaths came in sharp gasps, her body trembling, her heart shattering into a million pieces. "Azzi—"

"Goodbye, Paige."

Azzi grabbed her bag and walked past her without looking back.

The door clicked shut.

And Paige collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

Because she had just lost the love of her life.

And it was all because of you.

You didn’t leave your dorm the next day.

Not because you were guilty—because you weren’t.

It was Paige who had kissed you. She was the one who had been drunk, reckless, and out of her mind. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But none of that mattered.

Because the pictures were everywhere.

Someone from the bar must have seen, must have thought it was funny—scandalous, even. And now, all of UConn was talking about it.

The golden couple? Done.

Azzi had ended things. Publicly. Brutally.

Paige was heartbroken, her entire world crumbling overnight.

And you?

You were the villain in a story you hadn’t even written.

You could already hear the whispers outside your dorm, the occasional knock at your door—probably someone looking for a fight. Some girls on campus loved Azzi. Some were obsessed with Paige. And all of them wanted someone to blame.

You almost didn’t go to class. You almost skipped, let this whole thing blow over. But you couldn’t hide forever.

So, you went.

And, of course, the first class of the day? Psychology.

The air was suffocating the moment you walked in. Conversations stopped. Heads turned.

And then there was her.

Paige sat near the back, hood up, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. She looked wrecked—like she hadn’t slept, like the weight of everything was pressing down on her chest. Her teammates were scattered throughout the room, some stealing glances at her, others purposefully avoiding eye contact.

And then she looked up.

Her eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, something flickered across her face—grief, maybe. Pain.

Then it twisted into something darker.

Hatred.

Pure, unfiltered hatred.

You swallowed hard, quickly looking away, heart hammering. The entire class, you felt her burning holes into the side of your head.

You hesitated after class.

Every instinct told you to leave, to run, to pretend none of this was happening.

But the sight of Paige—shoulders still slumped, eyes rimmed red—made something in your chest twist.

So, stupidly, you walked up to her.

"Paige…" Your voice was hesitant, barely above a whisper. "I—I didn’t mean for this to happen."

Her head snapped toward you, blue eyes flashing.

"You didn’t mean for this to happen?" she echoed, voice sharp, bitter. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

You flinched. "Paige, you were drunk. You kissed me—"

"Don’t fucking say that," she snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t stand here and act like you’re innocent."

Your stomach dropped. "I am innocent."

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah? Then why the fuck is my life falling apart because of you?"

You clenched your jaw, frustration bubbling up. "I didn’t take those pictures. I didn’t spread them. I didn’t tell you to—"

"Shut up," she hissed, voice trembling. "Just—just shut the fuck up."

Her hands were shaking.

You had never seen someone look so furious and so broken at the same time.

"Azzi left me," she whispered, voice cracking. "She fucking left me."

Your heart clenched. "Paige—"

"No." Her breath hitched, and she took another step closer, voice trembling. "You don’t get to say my fucking name like we’re friends. Like you care. Because if you actually cared, you wouldn’t have let this happen."

Your jaw clenched. "Let this happen? Paige, you—"

"It should have been anyone else!" she snapped suddenly, eyes wild. "Do you understand that? Anyone! But for some reason, I—" She sucked in a sharp breath, shaking her head. "You ruined my life."

Your stomach dropped. "That’s not fair."

"I don’t care!" she shot back, eyes glassy. "Because it’s not about fair—it’s about the fact that I lost everything because of you. So, yeah, I’m gonna make your life a fucking nightmare. You think it’s bad now? Just wait."

You stared at her, chest tight, throat dry. "Paige—"

She stepped even closer, voice so low, so venomous, that it sent a chill down your spine.

"You’re gonna regret ever meeting me."

Then she turned and walked away.

And just like that, your life at UConn was over.

You told yourself you wouldn’t get involved.

This wasn’t your mess to clean up.

Paige was the one who kissed you. Paige was the one who fucked everything up. Paige was the one who had her world fall apart.

But your name was being dragged through the dirt along with hers. The whispers had turned to full-on accusations. People stared at you like you had single-handedly ripped apart the golden couple, like you had set fire to something sacred. Some girls in your dorm refused to even look at you. Others muttered things just loud enough for you to hear.

It was suffocating.

You weren’t even eating much anymore. Not because you didn’t want to, but because sitting in the dining hall felt like a death sentence. So, against all logic, you decided to do the one thing you knew was a terrible idea.

You went looking for Azzi.

You found her outside the practice facility, headphones in, gaze distant.

She noticed you immediately, though she didn’t react much—just pulled out an earbud and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

She wasn’t mad.

She wasn’t anything, really.

Just…indifferent.

And somehow, that made it worse.

You swallowed hard, then said, "Can we talk?"

Azzi studied you for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

You weren’t sure what you had expected—resistance, maybe. A brush-off. But she just turned and started walking, expecting you to follow.

So you did.

You told her everything.

How you had never really known Paige. How you had been at the bar, minding your own business. How Paige had been drunk, rambling, lost. How she had kissed you out of nowhere, and how you had pushed her away.

Azzi didn’t interrupt.

She didn’t even flinch.

She just listened, her expression unreadable.

When you finally finished, you exhaled shakily, waiting for some kind of reaction.

But Azzi just nodded. "I see."

Your stomach twisted. "That’s it?"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked simply.

You hesitated. "I don’t know. I—I just thought you should know the truth."

Azzi finally met your eyes, and for the first time, you saw it—certainty.

"I already knew the truth," she said softly. "I just needed to hear it from someone else."

Your throat tightened. "Azzi—"

"It was her fault." Her voice was calm, like she had already accepted it. "She had all these chances to stop herself. She never would’ve done that with anyone else."

Something about the way she said it made your chest tighten.

"I—I wasn’t trying to make things worse—"

"But you did." Azzi’s eyes were dark, unreadable. "And that’s not your fault. But it doesn’t change anything."

You felt sick.

You had come here hoping—what? That this would somehow fix things? That Azzi would understand, forgive Paige, and everything would go back to normal?

But all you had done was give Azzi the last piece of proof she needed to never look back.

You had just ruined whatever chance Paige had left.

And somehow, that felt even worse.

After that, things got worse for you.

The rumors didn’t stop.

If anything, they got worse.

You were the homewrecker. The one who had seduced Paige. The one who had waited for the golden couple to crumble so you could sink your claws into Paige Bueckers.

You stopped correcting people.

It didn’t matter what you said—no one cared.

Paige still looked at you like she wanted you gone.

And Azzi?

Azzi just moved on.

But you? You were stuck.

Barely eating. Barely sleeping. Barely existing. And for what?

For a mistake that wasn’t even yours?

You knew Paige was going to make your life hell. She had promised as much.

But knowing it and living it were two different things.

Paige was miserable, and she wanted you to feel it.

At first, it was subtle.

Your seat in psych? Taken. No one said a word, but suddenly, your usual spot was filled every day, forcing you to sit at the very front, where every whisper drilled into the back of your skull.

Walking across campus? Eyes followed you everywhere. You’d hear your name slip from someone’s mouth, followed by a scoff, a laugh.

Your dorm? Someone knocked on your door at odd hours—sometimes loud, sometimes soft, but always unsettling.

And then, it escalated.

Paige started showing up everywhere you were.

Dining hall? She was there, sitting with her teammates, speaking loud enough for you to hear.

"Some people really have no shame," she’d say, voice dripping with venom. "Like, if I fucked up someone’s relationship, I’d at least have the decency to leave campus."

You kept your head down. You didn’t react.

That wasn’t good enough for her.

During pickup games at the rec center, you stopped going after she made a show of calling you out in front of everyone. "Oh, you’re here?" she sneered one night, spinning a ball on her fingertips. "Didn’t know we were letting homewreckers here with us."

Laughter. Stares. Your entire body burned with humiliation.

And still, you ignored it.

Then she started getting bolder.

One night, you left the library late. You barely made it down the steps before you heard her voice.

"Don’t walk away from me."

You turned, heart hammering. Paige stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyes dark, jaw clenched.

"I didn’t do anything to you," you said, voice tight. "Why are you doing this?"

She scoffed. "You didn’t do anything? Are you serious?"

"Paige, you kissed me."

Her whole body tensed. "Shut up."

"You kissed me," you repeated, anger flaring despite the way your hands shook. "I didn’t ask for this."

She took a step closer, and for a second, you swore you saw something flicker in her eyes—guilt, maybe.

Then it was gone.

"You should’ve pushed me away harder," she muttered. "You should’ve done something."

You laughed, but it wasn’t funny. "What was I supposed to do, Paige? Hit you? Call Azzi right then and there?"

Her hands curled into fists. "I don’t fucking know. But I lost everything, and you—" Her voice broke. "You’re still here."

You stared at her, chest tight. "You want me gone?"

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t have to.

She had already made sure you had nowhere left to go.

Your phone rang.

It was nearly 2 AM.

You blinked at the screen, unknown number.

"Hello?"

"You did this to me." Paige?

Paige’s voice was slurred, thick with alcohol and something heavier.

"Paige—"

"You fucking ruined my life."

You exhaled, rubbing your temple. "Go to sleep, Paige."

"Azzi left me because of you," she spat. "You took everything from me."

Guilt curled in your stomach, even though you knew none of this was really your fault.

"Paige, I—"

"Come get me," she interrupted, suddenly softer. "Please."

You frowned. "What?"

"Come get me," she repeated. "I’m outside the bar. I need help."

It was like a switch had flipped, like she was two different people.

You hesitated.

You should hang up.

You should let her deal with this on her own.

But instead, you sighed. "Where exactly?"

"Parking lot," she murmured. "You’ll come, right?"

And despite every rational thought screaming at you—

You went.

You found her slumped against a car, head tilted back, eyes barely open.

When she saw you, she let out a breathy laugh. "Knew you’d come."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Come on."

She didn’t move. "You know, you should take responsibility."

"For what?" you asked, annoyed.

Paige’s head lolled toward you, her gaze glassy. "For ruining everything."

"You ruined everything," you shot back.

She ignored that, smiling lazily. "You kinda look like her, you know."

Your stomach twisted. "Like who?"

"Azzi."

You stiffened. "Paige—"

She reached for you suddenly, her fingers clumsily brushing your face. "Just for a second…"

You grabbed her wrist, firm but careful. "I’m not Azzi."

Her face crumpled, something breaking in her expression. "I know."

She yanked her hand away, suddenly angry again. "You should’ve left me alone that night. Should’ve pushed me away harder. Should’ve—"

"You keep saying that," you cut in, exhausted. "But you kissed me. And I don’t know why, Paige. I don’t know what the hell is going on in your head, but I didn’t want this. Any of this."

She went quiet.

For the first time since that night, she actually looked at you.

And for a split second, you thought she might apologize.

But then she just scoffed. "Take me home."

When you got to her dorm, it was KK who answered.

She blinked at you, then at Paige, who was half-asleep, leaning on your shoulder. Before you could explain, Caroline appeared behind KK, eyes narrowing slightly.

Neither of them said anything. But the way they looked at you—it wasn’t anger.

It wasn’t blame.

It was understanding.

"Where was she?" Caroline asked.

"Drunk outside the bar," you muttered. "She called me."

Caroline’s jaw tensed. "Of course she did."

They took Paige from you, guiding her inside. You hesitated, unsure if you should leave or—

"Wait," Caroline said. "I’ll be back."

A few minutes later, Caroline stepped outside, arms crossed.

"You good?" she asked.

You almost laughed. "Do I look good?"

Caroline sighed. "Paige is a mess right now."

"Yeah, no shit."

"She’s spiraling," Caroline said. "And she’s dragging you down with her."

You ran a hand through your hair. "She hates me."

"No," Caroline corrected. "She hates herself. And she doesn’t know what to do with that, so she’s taking it out on you."

You swallowed hard. "She’s ruining my life, Caroline."

Caroline nodded slowly. "I’ll talk to her."

You blinked. "Why?"

"Because I think she still respects me enough to listen."

For the first time in days, something in your chest loosened just a little.

"Thanks," you muttered.

Caroline gave you a look. "Don’t thank me yet. She’s stubborn as hell."

You huffed out a tired laugh. "Tell me about it."

Caroline’s lips twitched. "Get some rest."

You nodded, turning to leave.

You didn’t know if anything would change.

But for the first time in a while, you weren’t completely alone in this.

It didn’t stop.

The first time Paige called you drunk, you thought it was a one-time thing.

But then it happened again. And again.

And every time, against your better judgment, you picked up.

Call #1 – 1:47 AM

"Azzi?"

You sat up in bed, blinking. "What?"

"I miss you," Paige slurred. "Can you come over?"

You swallowed. "Paige, it’s me."

Silence.

Then a soft, broken laugh. "Right. Fuck. Never mind."

She hung up before you could say anything else.

Call #2 – 2:21 AM

"Why did you leave me?"

You sighed. "Paige, go to sleep."

"I don’t want to be alone."

You squeezed your eyes shut. "You have KK. Caroline."

"They don’t get it. But you do, right?" Her voice was quiet now, fragile. "Azzi, please."

Your heart clenched.

"I’m not her."

She went silent again.

And then, "I know. That’s the fucking problem."

Call #3 – 3:03 AM

You ignored it.

She called again.

And again.

On the fifth ring, you gave in.

"What do you want, Paige?"

"To talk."

"We don’t have anything to talk about."

"Come on, Azzi, don’t be like that."

Your breath caught. "Paige, you’re drunk."

"So what? You don’t wanna see me?" She let out a bitter laugh. "Guess that makes sense. I wouldn’t wanna see me either."

You rubbed your temple. "Paige—"

"You kissed me first."

Your blood ran cold. "What?"

"That night," she murmured. "Tell me it wasn’t real."

You shut your eyes. "It wasn’t."

A pause.

Then,

"Liar."

Click.

The more it happened, the worse it got.

The way she looked at you—sometimes, for a split second, you saw something raw in her eyes, something desperate.

Like she needed you.

Like she wanted you.

But you knew better.

It wasn’t you she wanted.

It was Azzi.

And no matter how many times you reminded yourself of that—

Some nights, it wasn’t enough.

It started subtly.

Paige was still cruel, still bitter, still drunk-calling you at ungodly hours. But there were moments—brief, fleeting—where she softened. Where she looked at you like you weren’t just the person who ruined her life.

Like you were someone she needed.

It was in the way she lingered when you crossed paths, her gaze not as sharp, her insults not as cutting. The way her fingers brushed against yours when she walked past. The way, some nights, she called you and just breathed into the phone, saying nothing at all.

At first, you almost thought she was finally letting go of her anger. But then you saw it—the way her eyes glazed over when she looked at you too long, like she was seeing someone else.

Like she was seeing her.

And then it hit you.

Paige wasn’t getting nicer.

She was just trying to love Azzi through you.

The breaking point came one night after another one of Paige’s drunk calls. This time, she wasn’t sobbing or slurring accusations.

She was sweet.

"You should come over," she murmured. "I just… I wanna see you."

You swallowed hard. "Paige—"

"Please."

It was different. Dangerous.

But against your better judgment, you went.

Her dorm was dimly lit when she opened the door.

She wasn’t as wasted as usual.

Her eyes softened when she saw you. "Hey."

"What do you want?" you asked cautiously.

"Just company," she said, stepping aside. "Come in."

You hesitated before entering.

She watched you closely, then suddenly smiled—soft, almost shy.

"You ever think about growing your hair out?"

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"It’d suit you." She tilted her head. "Maybe dye it darker too?"

A slow, sinking feeling curled in your stomach.

"Paige," you said carefully. "What are you doing?"

She blinked innocently. "Nothing. Just… thinking."

Your hands curled into fists. "Thinking about what?"

She took a slow step toward you. "You really don’t see it?"

"See what?"

She reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead. "You remind me of her."

The world tilted.

Your breath stilled. "No. I don’t."

Her gaze softened even more. "But you do."

And that was it. That was when you snapped.

"I’m not Azzi!" you burst out, shoving her hand away. "I don’t look like her. I don’t sound like her. I don’t move like her. We’re nothing alike!"

Paige reeled back, startled.

"Look at me!" you shouted, voice shaking. "Really look at me! Tell me what you see!"

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Because for the first time, she actually looked.

Her eyes roamed over you, wide and unblinking, taking in every difference she had been pretending not to notice.

Her breath hitched.

She took a shaky step back.

"Shit," she whispered, realization crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her expression shifted. The warmth disappeared. The softness vanished.

And in its place—distance.

Indifference.

Like a switch had flipped.

Like she was finally seeing you for what you were.

Not Azzi.

Just some stranger she had projected onto for far too long.

"I should go," you muttered.

She said nothing.

And that silence—the cold, empty silence—cut deeper than anything she had ever said to you before.

Paige’s tactics changed.

She no longer called you at night. No more drunken confessions, no more whispers over the phone, no more confusion in her gaze when she looked at you.

Instead, she made you feel like you didn’t exist.

And when she wasn’t ignoring you, she was flirting with others.

Not subtly. Not accidentally.

Deliberately.

She made sure you saw.

You had just picked up your tray when you saw her—leaned in close to some girl from the soccer team, whispering in her ear, laughing at whatever she said.

The girl touched Paige’s arm, and Paige let her.

Then, like she knew exactly where you were, Paige turned—her eyes locking onto yours for a brief second.

She smirked.

You looked away, suddenly not hungry anymore.

You had been lounging at the student hall, trying to clear your mind, when Paige walked in with another girl—this time from the volleyball team.

She threw her arm around the girl’s shoulders, guiding her toward the treadmill, murmuring something that made the girl giggle.

You watched as Paige casually brushed the girl's hair back, tucked it behind her ear, smiled like she meant it.

Like it was easy.

Like it was real.

You forced yourself to look away.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.

But how could you not, when Paige was right there, voice raw, pleading?

"Azzi, please," she begged. "I miss you. I’ll do anything, just… don’t shut me out."

Silence.

Then Azzi’s voice, soft but firm. "Paige, I can’t."

You turned the corner just in time to see Paige slump against the wall, eyes shining with unshed tears.

You should’ve walked away.

But instead, you stood there, heart twisting in your chest, watching as the one person who had spent weeks making you suffer looked utterly broken.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

You shouldn’t have cared. But somehow, despite everything—despite the hell she put you through, despite the fact that she was only ever using you as a substitute—Paige had crept into your heart.

And that realization?

That scared you more than anything.

You clenched your fists.

No.

It didn’t stop.

The whispers. The stares. The pointed fingers and muffled laughter whenever you walked by.

If anything, it got worse.

People didn’t just talk behind your back anymore. They made sure you heard them.

And the media? They were relentless.

Clickbait headlines twisting the story, painting you as the homewrecker, the villain, the nobody who had somehow ruined the golden couple of UConn basketball.

Your phone never stopped buzzing—messages from numbers you didn’t recognize, comments under your posts, strangers telling you exactly what they thought of you.

Telling you to disappear.

And through it all, Paige did nothing.

She saw it. She knew. And she let it happen.

It happened in the courtyard, in broad daylight.

You had just stepped outside when you heard them.

"She’s really still showing her face?"

"No shame."

"Paige should’ve ruined her worse."

Laughter.

You kept your head down, gripping the straps of your backpack, willing yourself to just keep walking. But then—

"You hear she tried to talk to Azzi? Like, are you kidding? After everything?"

"So desperate. She probably thought Paige actually wanted her."

That made them laugh even harder.

And that’s when you felt it—something cold and wet splashing across your back.

Your breath caught as the icy liquid soaked through your shirt. You turned, heart pounding, to see a girl holding an empty cup, smirking.

"Oops." The group around her cackled.

You stared at her, frozen. Your hands trembled. You wanted to say something, do something, but what was the point?

No one would stand up for you.

Not even Paige. Especially not Paige.

Because she had been there.

Standing just a few feet away, watching.

She had seen it. And she had done nothing.

Your chest tightened. Something inside you cracked.

Paige.

Paige, who had caused all of this. Paige, who had kissed you first, who had dragged you into this mess, who had made you feel something you never should have felt—

And now, she just stood there.

Unbothered. Indifferent. Like you meant nothing.

Something sharp twisted in your gut.

For the first time since this whole thing started—since the night of that stupid, reckless kiss—

You hated her.

You thought things couldn’t get worse. You were wrong.

You stopped checking your phone. It wasn’t worth it anymore. The notifications, the messages, the mentions—they all blurred into one ugly, suffocating noise

You barely ate. Barely slept. And your parents noticed.

"Are you okay?" your mom asked over the phone, voice laced with concern. "You don’t sound like yourself."

You forced out a laugh. "I’m fine, Mom. Just busy with school."

But you knew she didn’t buy it.

"Honey, if something’s wrong, you can tell us."

"I said I’m fine."

A beat of silence. Then your dad’s voice, softer than usual. "We’re worried about you."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Don’t be." Lying had never felt heavier.

It happened on a random afternoon. You had gone downtown, hoping for some sense of normalcy. But even that had been taken from you. You barely had time to register the shove before you stumbled, hands scraping against the pavement.

Laughter rang out behind you. "Watch where you’re going, homewrecker."

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You turned, breath shaky. A group of them. Faces you didn’t recognize, but you knew their type. The ones who thrived off cruelty, off watching others break.

"Didn’t know sluts shop downtown too," one sneered.

Another stepped closer, the smirk on her face making your stomach churn. "Guess she thought Paige actually wanted her."

Another shove.

Your shoulder slammed into the brick wall. You saw red.

"What the hell is your problem?" Your voice was hoarse, exhausted, but you refused to let them see you crumble.

"You," one of them spat. "You ruined her."

Ruined.

Like you were the villain in this story.

Like you had asked for this.

Like you had been the one who kissed her.

The rage inside you simmered, hot and consuming, but before you could react—

"Hey! What’s going on here?!"

A store owner had come out, his sharp voice slicing through the tension. People had stopped to stare.

"Nothing," one of them muttered. But the damage was done.

You heard someone say call the police.

You knew it was over.

You didn’t want to do it.

But the officers at the station insisted. "This situation involves another party. Someone influential. If there’s going to be an official report, we need Paige Bueckers to come in."

You wanted to laugh.

Like Paige would ever help you.

But you had no choice. You dialed.

The first call rang out. No answer.

The second call—same.

On the third, she picked up.

"What?" Her voice was sharp, irritated, like you were nothing but an inconvenience.

"Paige, I—" You swallowed hard. "I need you to come to the station. There was an incident, and they said you have to—"

"Fix your own mess," she cut in coldly. "I don’t care. I don’t care about you. Who even are you to me?"

Silence.

Something inside you cracked.

And for the first time in a long time—

You cried.

Not from the pain, not from exhaustion, not even from fear.

From hatred.

Pure, searing, all-consuming hatred.

You had never hated anyone more than you hated Paige Bueckers in that moment.

And from that day forward, you promised yourself—

You were done.

You never looked back.

The moment you stepped out of that police station, something inside you clicked into place. The weight, the exhaustion, the never-ending suffocation—it all led to one undeniable truth.

You had to leave.

So you did.

Telling your parents everything had been terrifying. But they had surprised you.

"You should’ve told us sooner," your mom had murmured, holding your hands in hers. "We wouldn’t have let you go through this alone."

Your dad, usually a man of few words, had looked at you with something that almost resembled guilt. "We’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of there."

And they did.

Transferring so late into your college career wasn’t easy, but with enough determination—and money—your parents made it happen.

USC welcomed you with open arms.

And just like that, you disappeared from UConn’s world.

No goodbyes. No explanations.

You blocked everyone.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you breathed.

USC was a dream. Warm weather, fresh faces, zero drama.

You threw yourself into school, determined to make up for the hell you had endured.

Graduation came faster than you expected.

With a degree in hand and no ghosts trailing behind you, you stepped into the professional world—clean slate, new opportunities.

And somewhere along the way, you met her.

Her name was Natalie Rivera.

Bright eyes, infectious laughter, a presence that made the world feel lighter.

You work for the same company—she was in marketing, you in project management. The chemistry was undeniable.

But when things got serious, you knew you had to tell her everything.

One night, curled up together on the couch, you finally let the past spill out.

The scandal. The hate. The girl who nearly destroyed you.

She listened. No judgment, no pity—just quiet understanding.

"I’m so sorry you went through that," she whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "But I’m glad you’re here now."

She held you a little tighter that night.

And you let her.

Years ago, you never thought happiness would be possible again.

Now?

You woke up every morning next to a woman who adored you.

You had a job you loved, friends who knew you, not some twisted version of your story.

No whispers. No side glances.

Just peace.

For the first time in a long time, life was yours.

And Paige Bueckers?

She was nothing more than a name you once knew.

It had been years.

Years of silence. Years of healing.

Years of forgetting.

Or so you thought.

Los Angeles had become home—its chaos predictable, its streets familiar.

You weren’t expecting to see her.

Paige Bueckers.

Standing just a few feet away, like a ghost from a past you had long buried.

You weren’t even sure how it happened—maybe it was fate, maybe it was just bad luck.

You had just finished work, stopping by your usual coffee shop, when it happened.

The door chimed behind you, a normal sound in the everyday noise of the city. You paid no attention—until you heard a sharp intake of breath.

A presence. A familiar presence.

You turned. And there she was. Paige Bueckers.

She stood frozen a few feet away, her blue eyes blown wide in disbelief.

Her body was tense, like she had seen a ghost.

And maybe, to her, you were one.

Because she had no idea you were here.

You watched as her fingers twitched at her side, gripping the strap of her duffel bag like she needed something to ground her.

Dallas Wings gear, an unmistakable sign of why she was here.

A game against the Sparks.

Of course she was here.

Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to stay indifferent.

You weren’t the same person she had left behind.

So when her eyes finally landed on you, you simply nodded.

Civil.

Detached.

Like she was nothing more than a stranger.

But she wasn’t supposed to see you.

Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came out.

Shock.

Pure, unmistakable shock.

Like she had just been hit with something she wasn’t ready for.

And then, it changed.

Her expression shifted—slowly, carefully—masking whatever whirlwind of emotions had just flashed through her.

The surprise dimmed.

The disbelief faded.

And what remained was something unreadable.

"Hey," Paige said, stepping closer.

You almost expected hostility, maybe some sort of tension—but there was nothing.

Just a small smile, an easy tone, like you were old friends.

Like she hadn’t spent months making your life a living hell.

You blinked. "Hey."

And that was it.

Just a greeting. Just two people acknowledging each other in passing.

Except—it wasn’t.

Because the way she looked at you lingered, a quiet intensity in her gaze that made the air feel heavier.

Like she was seeing something she wasn’t prepared for.

Like she had never expected to see you.

The tension in the air was suffocating.

Because you knew she was still processing.

She hadn’t expected you.

Hadn’t prepared for you.

And yet, here you were.

Alive. Thriving. Unbothered.

And she? She looked like the ground had just crumbled beneath her feet.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out instinctively, glancing at the screen.

Natalie.

Your heart settled.

"Hey, baby," her voice was soft, familiar, grounding. "I’m outside. Got a good parking spot for once."

"Perfect. I’ll be out in a sec," you murmured.

And then—Paige saw her.

Saw her.

The way her body tensed was almost imperceptible, but you caught it.

Natalie stood outside, leaning casually against the hood of her car, scrolling through her phone like she had all the time in the world. The sunlight caught in her hair, framing her in a golden glow.

And Paige—Paige froze.

Just for a second.

Just long enough for something in her expression to shift.

It wasn’t shock.

It wasn’t anger.

It was something deeper.

Something unreadable.

Something dangerous.

Her throat bobbed, and for a split second, the mask cracked.

Just a flicker.

Just long enough for you to see it.

But as fast as it came, it was gone.

Then, like a snap of a rubber band, she smoothed her features. The Paige Bueckers the world knew—composed, untouchable—slipped back into place.

She smiled, casual, controlled. "Didn’t know you were in LA."

You shrugged. "Didn’t think you needed to."

Her jaw clenched—so fast, so subtle, that if you weren’t looking, you might’ve missed it.

There was a pause. A heavy one.

And then she nodded, stepping back. "It was good seeing you."

Liar.

"Yeah. You too."

You turned away first. Walked toward the door like this meant nothing.

Like she meant nothing.

But even as you stepped outside, feeling the warmth of Natalie’s presence as she looked up and smiled at you—

You felt the weight of Paige’s gaze.

Still lingering.

Still burning.

Like a storm waiting to break.

The next morning, your phone buzzed with a notification.

Unknown Number: Hey.

You stared at the screen, confused. You had changed your number when you left UConn, cutting ties with everything and everyone from that life. No one should have this number except for the people you let in.

And yet…

Unknown Number: It’s Paige.

Your stomach twisted.

Paige.

You hadn’t even thought about her after yesterday. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But now—this?

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

What does she want?

You exhaled sharply, finally typing back.

You: How’d you get this number?

A few seconds passed before the typing bubbles appeared.

Paige: A friend of a friend.

Vague. Typical.

Paige: Can we hang out?

Your eyebrows pulled together.

Hang out?

Like nothing had happened? Like she hadn’t once made your life a living hell? Like she hadn’t pretended you didn’t exist for years?

You let out a bitter chuckle.

You: There’s no point. We both have our own lives now.

Your response was cold, direct. Final.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

Paige: Please.

You stared at the word.

Paige Bueckers, pleading.

Why?

Paige: Just one time. A proper catch-up. No drama.

You clenched your jaw. No drama? From her?

It was laughable.

Your past had been burned, buried, erased. And now, like some relentless ghost, Paige was clawing her way back into your life.

You exhaled sharply and locked your phone.

Ignoring her.

For now.

Ignoring Paige should have worked.

It should have been the end of it.

You had spent years perfecting the art of forgetting her, of erasing her from your life. But Paige Bueckers had never been the type to accept being ignored.

The messages kept coming.

Paige: I get it, you don’t want to see me. Paige: But can we at least talk? Paige: Just five minutes? Paige: I’ll stop after that, I swear.

She was relentless.

You stopped responding after the first day, but she didn’t stop sending them.

Then the calls started.

You never answered.

Your girlfriend, Natalie, started noticing.

“You okay?” she asked one evening, looking up from the couch as you stared at your phone.

You turned the screen down on the table. “Yeah.”

She didn’t push. Natalie never did. She trusted you.

Unlike Paige, who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries.

And then—Paige took it further.

You stepped into your office building that morning, coffee in hand, fully prepared for a normal workday.

Until you saw her.

Paige.

Standing in the sleek lobby, hands in the pockets of her hoodie, acting as if she belonged there.

Your stomach dropped.

She looked… different. Still Paige Bueckers, still beautiful, but—something else lurked beneath the surface. A quiet desperation.

She met your eyes, and for a split second, something passed between you.

And then you snapped out of it.

You turned on your heel, heading straight for the elevator.

She was right behind you.

“Hey—”

You didn’t stop.

“Wait, can we just—”

You stepped inside and pressed the button. Paige followed, slipping in before the doors could close.

You glared at her. “Are you insane?”

She just shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Wouldn’t be the first time you thought that.”

The doors shut.

You gritted your teeth, gripping your coffee cup so hard the lid nearly popped off. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

She smirked. “Connections.”

Of course.

Paige Bueckers could get in anywhere.

The elevator climbed in suffocating silence.

“I just want to talk,” she said.

You scoffed. “Stalking me at work is your idea of talking?”

Paige exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wouldn’t call it stalking.”

You shot her a sharp look. “What would you call it, then?”

She hesitated.

Exactly.

The doors dinged open. You stepped out, but Paige kept pace beside you.

Enough.

You yanked out your phone and shot a quick message to Natalie.

You: We need to talk. Paige is here.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed.

Natalie: What??

You: Yeah. I’ll explain everything.

You slid your phone back into your pocket and turned to Paige.

“This needs to stop,” you said. “You need to stop.”

Paige’s jaw tightened. “I just—”

“No,” you cut her off. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to chase me down after all these years. I moved on, Paige.”

Something flickered in her eyes.

Before she could say anything, you walked away.

And this time, you weren’t looking back.

You barely had time to collect yourself before Natalie called.

You shut your office door before answering.

“Tell me I misread your text,” she said immediately. “Paige is here?”

You sighed, running a hand down your face. “She was in the lobby when I got in.”

“What the hell?”

“She got in through connections.”

Natalie let out a humorless laugh. “Of course she did.”

You sat down, rubbing your temple. “I told her to stop. I don’t know if she will.”

A pause. Then—“Do you want me to handle this?”

You hesitated. Natalie was protective. If she got involved, she wouldn’t be nice about it.

But maybe that’s exactly what needed to happen.

“…Not yet,” you said. “But if she doesn’t back off, I might need you to.”

Another pause. Then, softer, “Okay. But if she crosses another line, I’m stepping in.”

You didn’t argue.

You expected Paige to try again the next day.

But she didn’t.

No messages. No calls.

Just silence.

You should’ve felt relieved. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t over.

And you were right.

Because Paige found a new way in.

Two days later, you got a text from your boss.

Boss: Hey, someone from the Dallas Wings is asking for a meeting with you. Any idea why?

Your blood ran cold.

You gripped your phone tighter, rereading the words.

Paige.

She was relentless.

You responded as casually as possible.

You: No idea. Maybe a mix-up? I’ll check.

Then, before you could lose your nerve, you called her.

She picked up on the second ring.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” she said, smug as ever.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to talk to you,” Paige said simply. “Since you won’t listen, I had to get creative.”

Your jaw clenched. “You’re playing games, Paige.”

“Maybe.”

She didn’t even deny it.

You gritted your teeth. “Whatever you think you’re doing—stop.”

“I will,” she said. “After we talk.”

A long silence stretched between you.

Then Paige sighed. “Look, I know I’m being—” she paused, searching for the word, “—annoying. But I swear, I just want to talk.”

You closed your eyes. “There’s nothing left to say.”

“There is,” Paige insisted. “And you know it.”

A beat.

Then, reluctantly, you exhaled. “Fine. One conversation.”

She sounded almost surprised. “Really?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “One. That’s it.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “Name the time and place.”

You hated how easy she made it sound. Like it was that simple.

It wasn’t.

And you had a feeling this conversation would prove exactly why.

You picked a public place. Neutral ground. Somewhere she couldn’t corner you.

A quiet café, tucked away in downtown L.A. You sat by the window, watching the world move on—like you had.

Paige was late.

Typical.

And yet, when the door swung open and she stepped inside, your stomach twisted like you hadn’t expected her to come at all.

She was different.

Her features sharper. But her eyes—those damn eyes—still held the same weight they always had.

Like they could see too much.

Like they still had a hold on you.

You forced yourself to look away as she approached.

Paige slid into the seat across from you, studying you.

"You look good," she said.

"You look surprised," you shot back.

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smirk—but then she sobered.

"I guess I am," she admitted.

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just lifted your coffee to your lips, waiting.

Paige exhaled, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “I didn’t know you were here.”

You finally met her eyes. “I figured.”

A beat.

Then—softer—“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You almost laughed. "Are you serious?"

Paige sighed, running a hand down her face. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but—”

“You don’t,” you cut in. “Not after everything.”

She flinched. But she didn’t argue.

Instead, she nodded, like she’d expected it.

"I just—" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I never thought you'd actually leave."

"Neither did I," you admitted.

Silence settled between you. Heavy. Unspoken things pressing in.

You sighed, setting your cup down. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

Paige hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, she said—

"Do you ever think about it?"

Your stomach clenched.

You didn’t need to ask what she meant.

The past. The pain. The things she did.

The things you felt.

"No," you lied.

Paige's gaze flickered, like she caught it. But she didn’t call you out.

Instead, she nodded. "Must be nice."

There was something bitter in her voice. Something resentful.

You frowned. "Why are you even here?"

Paige looked at you for a long moment. Then she exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.

"I don’t know."

You believed her. And maybe that was worse.

Because if she didn’t even know what she wanted, then what was stopping her from destroying everything all over again?

She looked like she wanted to say more. Like she had a hundred things sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't find the right words.

Good. Let her struggle. Let her drown in all the things she left unsaid.

Because you weren’t going to save her.

You leaned back in your seat, fingers drumming against the table. “So… that’s it?”

Paige blinked, as if snapping out of a trance.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she admitted.

“That makes two of us.”

She exhaled sharply. “Can we just… I don’t know. Talk? Catch up?”

“There’s nothing to catch up on.”

You expected her to flinch. To back off. To realize there was no fixing something she destroyed so thoroughly.

But this was Paige Bueckers.

And Paige Bueckers never knew when to quit.

“You can’t tell me you don’t have questions,” she pushed. “Not even one?”

“I don’t.”

She huffed a humorless laugh. “God, you really hate me, don’t you?”

Your jaw clenched.

Hate was easy. Hate was safe.

But the truth was, you didn’t know what you felt anymore.

Paige studied you, something unreadable in her expression.

“You’re different,” she murmured.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, tilting her head slightly. “You just… feel different.”

A scoff left your lips. “Yeah, well. Trauma does that to a person.”

Silence.

Paige swallowed, her throat bobbing. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

You shrugged. “Then you shouldn’t have come at all.”

She ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated, but for once, she didn’t argue.

Instead, she sighed, glancing toward the window.

"You have a good life now," she murmured.

You didn’t respond.

She turned back to you, something unreadable in her gaze. “Does she make you happy?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Paige’s jaw clenched. Just slightly.

And maybe you imagined it, but you swore you saw something flicker in her eyes.

Regret? Pain?

It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Your phone buzzed.

Natalie.

You didn’t even have to check the message. You knew what it was.

You had a life now. A life Paige wasn’t part of.

You pushed your chair back, standing up. “I should go.”

Paige’s gaze snapped to yours. “Already?”

“There’s nothing else to say.”

She looked like she wanted to argue. To make you stay.

But what would be the point?

She wasn’t part of your world anymore.

She lost that right a long time ago.

You pushed your chair back, preparing to leave. But before you could take a single step, Paige reached out, grabbing your wrist.

“Wait.”

Her fingers were warm, firm—not desperate, not forceful, just… steady. And for some reason, that was worse.

You froze.

She let go almost immediately, as if realizing she had no right to touch you. “Please. Just… a few more minutes?”

You hesitated, your body screaming at you to walk away. To leave her behind like she had left you in the wreckage of her past.

But then she said, “I’m sorry.”

And you actually stopped.

For the first time since she waltzed back into your life, she looked different—not the arrogant, reckless Paige Bueckers who had made your life hell.

No. This was something else.

She looked… remorseful.

“I mean it,” she added, her voice quieter now. “For everything. For what happened. For making you suffer. For making you feel like it was your fault when it never was.”

Your chest tightened.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for this conversation.

She took a deep breath. “I was a coward. I lost Azzi, and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I took it out on you. I blamed you when I should’ve blamed myself.”

You swallowed hard.

You weren’t expecting this.

Paige ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily. “I made your life a nightmare, and I can never take that back. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I need you to know that I regret it. Every single day.”

She looked up at you then, and there was something raw in her eyes.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

The question hit you like a bullet.

You had imagined this moment before—what it would feel like if Paige ever apologized. If she ever looked you in the eye and admitted she was wrong.

But now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to do with it.

A part of you wanted to say no.

A part of you wanted to hold onto the anger, the pain, the years of resentment.

But another part of you—one you weren’t ready to acknowledge—felt something else.

Something dangerously close to relief.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”

Paige nodded, like she understood. Like she expected it.

“I get it,” she murmured. “I just… I needed to say it.”

Silence stretched between you.

You needed to leave. To walk away before you got caught in her storm all over again.

But Paige wasn’t done.

She forced a smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “You look good, you know. Happy.”

“I am.”

Paige nodded, but there was something distant in her gaze. “That’s good. That’s… really good.”

She meant it. You could tell.

But deep down, you could also tell that something about it bothered her.

And that was the moment you should’ve walked away.

The moment you should’ve put an end to this.

But you didn’t.

And you should’ve known then—Paige Bueckers wasn’t just here to apologize.

She was here to stay.

—

At first, it was subtle.

Little things you could brush off as coincidences.

Running into her at a café you liked. Seeing her at a gym you sometimes visited. Bumping into her at events that, logically, she had no reason to be at.

Then, it started becoming obvious.

Paige showing up at your work building, pretending it was a coincidence. Her sending the occasional DM, even though you never responded.

Natalie started noticing too.

One evening, as you curled up on the couch with her, she spoke up.

“She’s hovering,” Natalie said simply, scrolling through her phone.

You stiffened.

“She’s not,” you muttered, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

Natalie raised a brow. “She’s showed up at your work twice now. You really think that’s normal?”

You didn’t respond.

Because the truth was, you weren’t sure anymore.

Paige had changed. She wasn’t cruel or reckless or looking to hurt you anymore.

She was… present. Too present.

And you were starting to realize—she was getting in between you and Natalie.

141 notes · View notes

allhandsonhotch · 2 days ago

Text

Mommy Makeover

Pairing: reassuring!hotch & insecure!new mom! reader!

Synopsis- After hearing one of the moms at Jack’s school ask you if Aaron was going to pay for your mommy makeover— it leaves you feeling very insecure in your own skin.

Warnings: mentions of body insecurity, slight angry hotch, alludings to smut (potential part two ;0), sad, insecure reader, mentions of child birth/labor, comforting hotch, mean pta moms. let me know if i missed any!

You had just had a baby about a two months ago with your boyfriend of a year. It was a little soon and the both of you knew that but Aaron remained by your side through the whole thing and reassured you that the baby wasn’t going to change your relationship.

You loved him and your new baby girl but you had noticed how your stomach stretched out a little more now, your tits were lopsided from breastfeeding, and you hadn’t really made an effort to look good since you had your baby.

None of that bothered you too much because Aaron didn’t seem to mind or at least he didn’t tell you he did.

You had taken Jack to school a lot since you were on maternity leave from work and you hadn’t seemed to notice the judgemental stares from some of the other moms until they came up to you directly.

“So— Y/N is Aaron paying for your mommy makeover?” One of them asked, you’d grown to know her name as Liz but only because she tried to get you to join the PTA.

“What?” You asked confused. You’d never heard of a mommy makeover and you didn’t know if you wanted to know.

“My husband paid for mine when we had our last baby— not that I really needed it the way you do..” Her tone was condescending in a way that made you want to hit her and that’s when you noticed what she was talking about. Her stomach was flatter than ever despite having 3 kids, her thighs weren’t saggy with extra fat and her tits were annoyingly perfect in the way that they perked up perfectly in the tiny crop top she wore, her ass was rounded off and it didn’t sag the way yours did. She looked good.

“What do you mean?” You asked, irritation clear in your tone. “Oh I just mean that— my husband hated the way I looked after I had our last baby— he wouldn’t sleep with me if I looked like..” Your heart dropped as you let her words get into your head.

Aaron hadn’t had sex with you since the baby and the doctor cleared you for that weeks ago.

He hadn’t even tried to get with you at all now that you thought about it and just like that it stung really bad.

Childbirth had changed your body in many ways and it bugged you but you never thought it could have bugged Aaron— but maybe it did.

“Me?” You asked which made her head shake with a fake smile. “No! Y/N of course not! I’m just saying..” You hated the way she condescended you, it made you feel disgusting.

“I’m sorry but just because your husband couldn’t appreciate the way you looked after growing his child in your womb doesn’t mean I need that stupid mommy makeover!” You snapped irritatedly and god you wished you believed yourself.

You went home right after that looking defeated as you walked through the door. Aaron was staying home today and he offered you a break from the baby by letting you take Jack to school.

“Hey honey..” Aaron greeted his tone lowering as he saw the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” He asked almost so softly you couldn’t hear.

“Just the other moms— M’ fine.” You tried, hoping it sounded reassuring enough for him. “What did they say?” He demanded, his voice sounding bitter as he spoke.

He knew how judgy they could be. “Just some talk about a uhm— Liz insinuated that uh—” You wished it didn’t sound so dumb as you tried to say it out loud.

“Liz basically insinuated that I needed one of those stupid mommy makeovers..” Your tone was quiet, insecurity clear as you spoke.

Aaron’s eyes softened immediately, his hand coming to grip your waist. “You can’t believe her.. right? You don’t believe her?”

His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—like the very idea of you believing Liz’s words physically pained him. His hand tightened on your waist, grounding you, pulling you closer.

You swallowed hard, eyes dropping to his chest instead of meeting his gaze. “I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… I had Delilah not too long ago, and it’s not like I look the same as I did back when we started dating..”

Aaron exhaled sharply, his grip firm as he guided you to look at him. “You’re serious?” His brows knit together, frustration flashing in his dark eyes—not at you, but at the fact that you were doubting yourself because of someone else’s careless words. “You are beautiful, exactly as you are.”

You huffed a short, humorless laugh. “You have to say that.”

“No,” he countered immediately, shaking his head. “I don’t. But I do have to make sure you understand how wrong she is.” His free hand lifted to your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and anyone who says otherwise is blind.”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, you thought—hoped—he might kiss you. But then he exhaled through his nose, reigning himself back in.

“I don’t want you believing anyone who tries to make you feel less than what you are.” His thumb brushed your cheek again, and his voice dropped, softer now. “And what you are is incredible, you carried a child for nine months I couldn’t imagine doing that.. of course your body is bound to change but I love the way you look now just as much as I loved the way you looked before if not more.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Aaron…”

“You don’t need a dumb mommy makeover,” he murmured. “And you sure as hell don’t need validation from someone like her.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you searched his face, finding nothing but sincerity. And maybe—just maybe—something more.

“But you haven’t had sex with me since before I had the baby and I just thought maybe you thought I was unattractive or something..” Aaron’s entire body went still. His jaw tensed, his brows drawing together as if the very idea was incomprehensible to him. “What?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving.

You swallowed, feeling heat rise up your neck. You hadn’t meant to say it—not like that, not so bluntly—but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

“I just… I know things have been different since Delilah was born,” you said quietly, shifting under his gaze. “And I get it, we’re exhausted, we barely have time for each other, but sometimes I wonder if it’s more than that.” You exhaled shakily. “If maybe you don’t want me like you used to.”

His expression darkened, something flickering behind his eyes—something raw, something frustrated. “You think I don’t want you?” His voice dropped, rough with emotion, and before you could answer, his hands were back on you—gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured, his lips just inches from yours. “I think about you constantly. Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself? How many nights I’ve laid awake next to you, wanting to touch you?” His fingers flexed against your hips, like he was barely holding himself back. “You just had our baby. The last thing I wanted was to pressure you, to make you feel like you owed me something.”

You blinked up at him, breath catching in your throat. “Aaron…”

His thumb brushed against your lower lip, his eyes burning into yours. “You are everything to me. Everything. And if I haven’t touched you, it’s not because I don’t want you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s because I can’t trust myself to stop.”

Your breath hitched, heat pooling low in your stomach. “Then don’t.”

His eyes searched yours, hesitation warring with desire. And then, finally, something inside him snapped.

Aaron’s mouth was on yours before you could take another breath, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands roamed your body, relearning every inch of you, and you melted into him, the weight of every doubt, every insecurity, fading beneath his touch.

#aaron hotchner #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotch fluff #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x fem!reader!

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stump-not-found · 1 day ago

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hellooo haiii :]

i saw a while ago that you said that you were fiddleford hater among lovers… do you mind speaking more on that? (sorry i really liek hearing ur views on stuff)

uhh yeah you know what i'll talk a lil about it . why not . i can share some analysis as a treat . will tuck my thoughts gently behind a readmore, so sweet and softlys

i think fiddleford is a fine character its just irritating when narratively he's treated as this very tragic figure when he's an adult man capable of making his own choices . this is a flaw with the books, to be clear - i do not think the actions of fiddleford align with the explicit narrative he has as a nice guy who had a terrible thing happen to him, which stanford must feel soul-crushing guilt over .

this is what bothers me about him: that he is intended to be read as just an all around good dude with tragic circumstances, rather than a messy guy who made shit-ass terrible decisions every step of the way

not even talking about fandom mischaracterization. that's a given in any collaborative fan space and i don't really hold it against people for doing that . fandom is fun, play with your dolls, do whatever - all that mostly means is im not gonna vibe w/ a lot of fanart, it's not going to impact my opinion of the character . i do think it's funny how the collective fanonization of him is simultaneously the wettest meow-meow, but also a total badass when . he's so fundamentally conflict adverse he destroys his own life and body over it .

my man fucks raccoons . i guess that's badass in it's own way . i guess

the thing that is compelling about fidds to me is he is a bit of a worm, and that worminess winds up destroying him from the inside out . he really embodies the entire concept of 'inaction is action', in a way that's deeply frustrating in both fun and not so fun ways

some of the fun things we know about fiddleford:

leveled the downtown area of palo alto

built a robot to try and kill his wife when she tried to divorce him

built robots to kill kids because his son wasnt paying attention to them

brain blasts people to get free labor out of them

started a cult to brain blast people

so horny for Cthulhu Columbo that he did not get his son a christmas present . not a single Tonking Truck . i know your brain is half melted at this point but cmon man

i don't really think the whole leaving his wife in the 70's is all that cute either . it's a one off joke, and there's something interesting about the fact that it's a one off joke . like what kind of financial freedom do people think a single mother is gonna have in this time period? why is that something that goes unchallenged?

and the fact he leaves them for a year is just like . that's also fucked man . i can personally attest to how fucked it is to have your dad just piss off for a year to do contractor work . what a wild subplot to be treated with such little narrative importance to his character . like . the fact that it holds so little importance to fidds is a narrative all on its own

it's just weird how the story treats him, man . he's not that endearing of a dude, which is what i like about him . i like that he makes bad decisions . i like that he doesn't respect when people say "no" . characters should make bad decisions and be bad people . i just really hate this presentation of his own actions being the fault of anyone other than fiddleford

oh also the research paper stint was insane . wild to me that that was presented in the story as like a cool or kind thing to do to someone . like that's a very reasonable boundary for stanford to be upset about being crossed, and its wild how that's presented as him being a jackass . there are MANY things that make ford a piece of shit . being upset about a guy doing something like that behind your back is not one of them

tho that's a whole other conversation about how ford as a character is defined by never having his boundaries respected, and this never being challenged, and in fact he should just be okay with it when it happens by the "right" sorts of people . once an object, always an object . love him

#stump talks #i think he acts like a fucking highschooler too #like all the shit in TBOB breaks down & he leaves behind a torn photo of him and ford #with “try to forget” scrawled on it #like come the fuck on man . go HOME . go BACK TO YOUR HOUSE #YOU HAVE A SMALL CHILD . GO HOOOOOMEEEEEE #STOP LEAVING PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE NOTESSSSS #YOU ARE 30 FUCKING YEARS OLDDDDDDD

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caughtthedarkness93 · 2 days ago

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I wanna add a few things about the ace experience - at least from my perspective - here that are I think relevant and helpful to know. This will also have a lot of my opinions in it, but...well, they're relevant, so I'm gonna say 'em.

While asexuality is a queer identity, it feels a little different from others because you're defined not by the presence of something but by its absence. What that means in practice is that being ace can be weird and it can be hard to figure out that's what you are.

So like me for instance - alloace, heteroromantic. I thought I was just straight for years. Sure, I recognized that some aspects of my experience were abnormal, but attraction is such an internalized thing that it's hard to recognize when you're not experiencing it. Like if you're a man experiencing attraction to other men, it's clear what that is. It may take some introspection to come to terms with it, but it's pretty straight(heh)forward.

But me being asexual? There were times when I noticed I didn't react to sexual content the same way others did, but I didn't really know what that meant. There were times I thought the entire societal obsession with sex was some elaborate hoax that men were playing on one another for clout and no one really actually liked it. There were times when I wondered if I should see a doctor, but concluded that I wasn't really unhappy with how I was, it was just...unusual.

Even now, a few years into identifying as ace, I still get some feelings of imposter syndrome because being ace is essentially trying to prove a negative.

To add a few other things:

• Ace people can still experience arousal. It's a body's autonomous process that is connected with sexuality, but can fire off without attraction or libido. It can get very annoying.

• There are multiple times of attraction so yes, if you find that person beautiful, it doesn't mean you're not ace. That's aesthetic attraction, which is I find this person visually appealing. There are actually a lot of types of attraction, many of which are pretty easy to confuse with romantic or sexual attraction because people often talk about them in ways that are tied together. Person is beautiful (e.g. I am aesthetically attracted to them) so I would like to have sex with them. One of the other common culprits is sensual attraction, which is the desire for nonsexual physical intimacy - i.e. snuggles. Aro and/or ace people can having varying levels of these as well, and they can also be related to gender (i.e. having a stronger aesthetic attraction for women than men or vice versa).

• By the same token, it can be very alienating and lonely to be ace. I often feel like an odd one out in certain scenarios. Everyone talking about how this person is super hot and I just...don't get it. I remember a lot of the men I knew in high school and college making me very uncomfortable with how they talked about sex (and often how they talked about women by proxy).

• Some stereotypes to avoid: cold, or emotionless ace people, do not compare us to robots please. And please, please, please, for the love of all that is holy, don't have them stop being ace when they "meet the right person." Demisexuality exists, but demi people are still part of the ace spectrum and don't cease to be when they do start experiencing attraction. It does strike me though that a lot of protagonists in the horniest romance novels you'll ever see are functionally demi or gray ace, given how much you see the "I haven't ever felt this way about anyone before!" trope played out.

• Likewise, don't portray ace people as pitiable or worthy of sympathy. If I wanted sex, I would have it. It's meaningless to me as it is, and I genuinely feel that there's nothing inherently special about it. Other people can feel free to feel differently, although I would argue that the way people view sex is connected to larger issues in how people, especially men, are discouraged from emotional intimacy and part of what those people get out of sex is a sense of that emotional closeness that they feel they cannot express elsewhere.

• To complicate the stereotypes - while the childish/innocent ace who doesn't even know what sex is stereotype is really annoying, I can see where it comes from because me and a lot of the other ace people I know are oblivious to flirting or sexual proposition. I cannot tell when someone is hitting on me for life, and while that's probably partly the autism, I'm not going to say the asexuality has nothing to do with it.

• A few ace inside jokes and bits of ace culture - we'd rather eat cake and garlic bread (cake tends to be older, garlic bread newer, though you see both represented as a symbol of the community), ace people love dragons (I'm going to be honest, it's hard to trace the origins of this one, but it's widespread enough that it's definitely part of the community's identity - far as I can tell, it seems to have originated from a random Tumblr post that just blew up, but there's no real logical connection at the root of it. It's fine though because dragons are rad).

"So, you wanna make them ace?"

Asexuality 101: Making your characters asexual

Indroduction: Ok, so, from what I've seen in fandom and in general, most people don't really know how to write an asexual character. Many just quit it and make them allosexual, others just struggle their way without having much of a guide. Prime example is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, whom many people want to involve in sexual scenarios so they go with the "asexuality is a spectrum" route. Problem is, they don't understand how asexuality is a spectrum exactly and then they just end up writing their characters as allo. Now, how to avoid this? Teaching them!

If you're looking for a good way to get started with your own asexual oc, an ace headcanon or a media charater, I've got you! (i mention sex briefly here in some parts)

My credentials: I'm ace.

The basics

What is asexuality?

Asexuality is a sexual orientation that is generally defined by the lack of sexual attraction, or a very little amount of it. Sexual attraction is many times confused with libido, which is the sexual desire. Sexual attraction is more accurately, "the desire of having sex with this specific person." Therefore, some ace people do have a libido, and do want to have sex, but mostly are just not attracted to a person.

Myths and misconceptions

Asexuals can't have sex - as many shippers say, "asexuality is a spectrum", and while some aces don't have sex indeed, they can want it and have it as well. Person to person scenario

Asexuals don't know nothing about sex - unless the ace in question is a child, they probably may know, in fact, a lot. Many ace people like reading, watching or consuming smut, and by this and other means, even if they don't have sex themselves, they pretty much know how it is and how it works. Sex is everywhere, after all. Hard to miss

Asexuality is caused by trauma - it can be! Just not always, and most aces are simply born this way

Asexuality is a medical condition - much like homosexuality, asexuality is frequently treated as an illnes and many ace people are forced into conversion therapy. Some people also hold the belief that asexuality is caused by an anormality in a person's hormones, a mental illness, etc. But it is not true! Asexual people can obviously also be mentally ill in some way, but these are different things. It is just a sexual orientation like any other!

Asexuality is caused by HRT - hormone replacement therapy, ie. taking testosterone or estrogen, is one of the most common type of medical transition for trans people. Some hold the belief that taking hormones like those can "break" your sexuality (estrogen does sometimes decrease a person's libido, but it depends on the person's organism and it doesn't take your sexual attraction away from you), and turn you asexual

Asexuality is caused by autism - this myth may be originated from the fact that many autistic people are in fact asexual, or by the fact that both asexuals and autistic people tend to be infantilized a lot. However, as much as autistic people are very commonly also ace, asexuality is not, in fact, a symptom of autism

Basic terminology

Ace - short for "asexual".

Aro - short for "aromantic"; someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction, aka typically "doesn't fall in love".

Allo - somebody who does experience attraction. "Allosexual" is someone who is not asexual, and "alloromantic" is someone who is not aromantic.

Aspec - short for "a-spectrum". The a-spectrum is an umbrella term for anyone who is in any way ace, aro, aplatonic, afamilial, or other identities that fit here.

Acespec - short for "asexual spectrum/ace spectrum". It's a part of the a-spectrum and contemplates all asexuality.

Aesthetic attraction - finding someone pretty or beatiful, without necessarily wanting to have sex with them. Many ace people who didn't know they were ace report to having used to mistake it with sexual attraction.

Sensual attraction - similar to sexual attraction; the desire to touch someone, but without wanting to actuall have sex with them. Many ace people also confused this with sexual attraction.

Aphobia - discrimination against aspec people.

Amatonormativity- the belief that everybody is happier in a relationship, wether they want it or not, and should want and seek to be in one, and the general root of aphobia.

The Split Attraction Model

If you are looking on the ace community for a while, you might have heard of the split attraction model--if you haven't, here it is:

Image description: The Split Attraction Model, a cross chart inside a square, with four ends. The first end of the cross is labelled "ace", its opposite is labelled as "alloce", the third end is labelled as "alloro" and it's opposite is labelled as "aro". The section on the "alloro" and "ace" square is labelled "alloromantic asexual", the section in the "ace" and "aro" part is labelled "aromantic asexual", the section on the "alloro" and "alloce" square is labelled as "alloromantic allosexual" and the section on the "aro" and "alloce" section is labelled "aromantic allosexual". /end ID.

The split attraction model divides all orientations in four groups: The aroaces, the aroallos, the alloaces and the alloallos. It is usually shortened to "SAM".

Many people find this model useful, because it sorts your attraction into two groups: allo- and a-, and yes and no. It's simple and easy.

Many aces do not use this model to explain their attraction/lack thereof though! Hence the first distinction of aces we have here: SAM-aces and non-SAM-aces. Basically aces who use the Split Attraction Model and aces who prefer not to!

A non-SAM ace may define their asexuality as their romantic orientation as well, or label themselves differently altogether. While a SAM ace could call themselves an "asexual aromantic" or an "asexual alloromantic", a non-SAM ace could call themselves just "an asexual". In this case, they can be neither "alloro" nor "aro".

If your character is aware of their sexuality and identifies as ace, it's good to know wether they use the Split Attraction Model for themselves or not.

The spectrum

You may have heard that "asexuality is a spectrum" a thousand times, but what does it mean?

Just like "non-binary", "asexual" can be an identity on its own, but it is actually an umbrella term for a bunch of orientations. When we say that it is a spectrum, we are saying that there is Nuance. "Ace who doesn't date", "ace who dates", "ace who experiences just a little bit of sexual attraction", "aces who like sex" and so on. 'But Angel', you ask me, 'didn't you say that asexuality is when people don't have sexual attraction?' It can be! But there IS nuance, and that's what I am here to tell you.

There are two more factors beyond the SAM that you can consider:

"Are they sex repulsed, sex favorable, or sex neutral?"

Here is the "aces can still have sex" thing. A sex repulsed ace is probably what the majority of people think when they hear "asexual". It is an ace person who doesn't like sex. Doesn't want to have it, is disgusted by it, despises sexual intimacy, etc. They are the aces who tipically just don't want to have sex, and are very happy without it.

A sex favorable asexual is someone who likes it. Sure, they don't feel sexual attraction, but who's letting it stop them, right? They like sexual acts, they are fine and happy with having sex in general, and that's what the "aces can still have sex" point means. Yes, they can, if they want to! Maybe your character themself doesn't define themselves as neither repulsed nor favorable, but it's good to know what their instance on sex is.

Sex neutral asexuals are aces who are not repulsed by it, but are not really into it either. They may have sex, they may be fine with it, they may like it even, but they generally don't have a desire or strong feelings regarding it. It's just sex, after all.

Sex ambivalent asexuals are another thing I want to touch on. They are tipically aces whose instance on sex changes! Sometimes they may feel repulsed by it, sometimes they may want it, sometimes they may not care. They are neither strictly one, nor another. Their feelings change!

It's good to see where in this categorization your character or blorbo would be.

Inside the asexual spectrum, where do they stand?

If I were to represent the ace spectrum as a linear thing, I'd do it like this:

Image description: A linear representation of the asexual spectrum, in the shape of an arch. In one end, it is written "asexual", on the other, it is written "allosexual" and on the very middle, at the top of the arch, it is written "gray-asexual". /end ID.

or like this:

Image description: Another linear representation of the asexual spectrum. One of the ends is a black circle and the other is a white circle. Between them, a gradient goes from one circle to another, passing through different shades of gray. The black end is labelled as "asexual", the white end is labelled as "allosexual", and the gradient with shades of gray is labelled "different kinds of Gray-As". /end ID.

What is graysexual, you ask me? We all know that the world is not black-and-white, and as so, sexuality is also not. Grayace is a term for a person that is also asexual, but not strictly: that is, they are the "feels a little of sexual attraction" part of the spectrum. It is called like that because when we put asexual and allosexual in two ends of a spectrum, graysexuality stands in this gray area.

Gray sexuals may:

Experience sexual attraction only sometimes

Experience light sexual attraction

Experience sexual attraction under certain conditions in certain scenarios, for example, when they are already very intimate with a certain person

And many more! Graysexuality is on itself a spectrum, but having an idea of allosexual -> graysexual -> strictly asexual is already a good guide. Graysexuality can also be described as "having partial sexual attraction".

Fun fact about gray-aces: The asexual flag has four stripes; purple, white, gray and black. The purple stripe is meant to be a color signifier of the community, the white means allosexual, the gray means the gray aces and the black stripe represents people with strictly no sexual attraction. Hence the term "black stripe asexual" (which is not very popular but I personally like).

Micro-labels

You already have a basic understanding of the asexual spectrum and how it works, so you can think on where exactly in the spectrum your character/blorbo is. To help you out further, I present you the microlabels! Much like non binary is an umbrella term with many microlabels like genderqueer, xenogender and demigender, that help one explain their identity with more and more specific explanations, asexuals also have a lot of microlabels! Here are some:

Cupiosexual - asexual person that wishes to have a sexual relationship (example: i am cupioromantic person and i am basically a hopeless romantic and a yearner. cupiosexuality is similar, but with sex)

Gray sexual - asexual person with partial sexual attraction

Demisexual - asexual person who can only be attracted to people they already have a bond with

Abrosexual - person whose sexuality is fluid, and may be asexual at one time, bisexual at another, gay at another, etc.

Aceflux - asexual person whose sexuality changes, like abrosexual, but only between asexual identities

Aegosexual - asexual person who likes the idea of sex or fantasises about it, as long as it doesn't envolve them

Lythosexual - asexual person who is only sexually attracted to people they are not close with, and their sexual attraction fades out once the become closer

Myrsexual - asexual person that uses multiple asexual identities to describe their sexuality

Aroace - aromantic asexual person

Alloace - alloromantic asexual person

Apothisexual - sex-repulsed asexual person

These are not all micro labels in the asexual spectrum, but they are quite a lot. Maybe even if your charater is not sure if they are in a certain label or not, you may find them in some of these descriptions.

Links to resources with more microlabels: Tumblr post by @aroacesafeplaceforall (no images) /

/ A slightly longer list on asexuals.net (undescribed flags) /

/ Another guide for microlabels on lgbtqia.fandom.com (undescribed flags)

Bonus questions

Is it okay if I make my asexual character autistic? Is it not stereotyping? Yes, it's okay. There are actual asexual autistic people, and I'm sure they'd love to get represented as well!

Is it okay if I make my asexual character have sex? Is it not erasure? Yes, you can do that too! As long as it is where they stand in the spectrum (as explained in the topics above), you are doing a good thing by representing sex-favorable asexuals.

Do I have to make a romantic orientation for them too? No. Your character may be a non-sam ace, and identify as ace alone!

I heard that it is erasure if I make smut fanfic of ace character X. I don't get it how! While it is true many ace people have sex, many people when writing that just ignore their sexuality when writing/drawing smut of them! The spectrum is wide, so when you are doing that, remember where they stand on it.

Why can't I headcanon this ace character as allosexual? I headcanon straight characters as gay/bi/pan all the time and nobody says it's wrong! If people don't like my headcanon why can't they just look away? Because asexual people are a marginalized group, unlike straight people, so it is as okay to make them allo as it is to take an asian or black or jewish character and make them white. Because it is not just an individual headcanon; it's a part of a much bigger problem, and by avoiding headcanoning ace characters as allo, you are confronting your own internalized aphobia, which is a good thing! If you still want to make them have sex, well, that's what I made this guide for! So you can make them have sex as you wish without erasing their identity.

I am ace and am basing myself or my own experiences here. Is it okay if I...? The answer is generally yes. If you wanna write about a different ace experience than your own, a little bit of research won't hurt, though!

Is this enough for me to write my ace character? It is a start. This is a general guide, and there are some things I haven't touched on this guide (like aphobia) so I'd advice you to do more in-depth research on topics you want to focus more on, but this should get you pretty far.

Extra

"Is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel canonically ace or aroace?" (slightly related, because some people looking for this guide to write this guy might want to know this too)

Answer: link to a post clearing this up this with some sources. Short answer though, is that he is confirmed to be ace, not aroace.

"If I didn't understand something here, or I have more questions, can I ask you?"

Answer: Yes! You can reblog this post with questions, and my inbox is also open, and I make sure to always let anon on. I will be happy to help if I can.

"One of the image descriptions on this post was off or confusing, can you change it to X so it is better to understand it?"

Answer: Of course! I will need you to signal me in either the notes or in the inbox what I need to change, though.

"Are asexual people queer?"

Answer: Yes! Because the queer community, as the name suggests, is for people who are different, odd, and are not considered "normal" because of that. Asexual people are not a part of "the norm", because we don't feel sexual attraction, and therefore, we, and by extension your ace characters too, are queer.

#asexual #ace #ace pride #asexuality

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noxiatoxia · 3 days ago

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is komaeda as self deprecating in japanese as he is in english? in his introduction he’s moreso humbly denying hope’s peaks offer than saying he wasn’t worthy. so i was wondering if komaeda comes off as incredibly humble more than self deprecating. or if the translators just really went ham on the self deprecation and got rid of any nuances

Hi! Thank you for the ask and I'm sorry it took so long for me to get to it! I had actually written a reply a few days ago, but Tumblr deleted it...😭 I was too mad to re write it then and there lol. But also, I think I could have been more clear (I wrote it while still recovering from being sick), so I'll try my best this time.

Firstly, if I'm understanding right, you're wondering if Komaeda is NOT self-deprecating, but instead just humble. There's a short answer and a long answer. The short answer is no, he does just blatantly put himself down in the text. The long answer is it may not be as bad as it is at certain parts. So now, I'll explain.

Firstly, let's re-visit the prologue. I've spoken about this specific line more than once.

KOMAEDA: Um, honestly, at first...I was humbled, but I refused. But, well, they wouldn't stop insisting on it…

In this scene, yes, Komaeda isn't putting himself down...necessarily. So, the word in question being used here is 恐れ多い. This word seems to give translators trouble. Back before there was an official SDR2 translation, there was a fan-translated version on the SomethingAwful forums by user orenronen.

Generally, I consider orenronen's translation to be more faithful at times. But NISA actually was closer in this case.

恐れ多い literally translates to "extremely scared", but it's really not used in that way. Think of it like any phrase or idiom...."You can't have your cake and eat it too" isn't meant to be literal. It's just a way to say "you can't have both things at the same time".

恐れ多い is a common phrase in Japanese when declining a big offer. For example, your boss gave you the chance for a big promotion, but you declined. You would use 恐れ多い. It can be used to indicate you feel you aren't good enough for the position - this is not a weird thing to say, as being humble is a core part of Japanese culture.

However, at it's core, 恐れ多い just means "I'm very sorry, but no, thanks".

Back to that example. Your boss gives you a chance for big promotion. You would take it, but your boss needs you to move cities for it. You don't want to move. So, you say, "Oh...Thank you so much, but I must humbly decline."

In the past, I explained this phrase kind of poorly and made it sound like it's only used to say you feel you don't deserve the position...what I meant to say was that the word gives the feeling of you not feeling good enough to accept, but that doesn't mean you actually don't feel good enough. Does that make sense? It's like saying "Sorry" as a courtesy when you do something wrong, but maybe you don't actually feel sorry.

In short, this line is ambiguous. The text literally says, 恐れ多いって断ったんだよ, which means (literally) "I refused by saying "No, thanks (humbly)"." Komaeda tells us what he told HPA verbatim, but he doesn't elaborate on why he said that. Did he decline because he did feel undeserving? Maybe he actually was scared to accept, maybe because of his luck? Or did he simply have no interest, and declined without much thought? - It's left to the player to speculate on his reasons.

This is a big part of Komaeda's character, I think. As discussed, he speaks very softly - sounding unsure, or making his statements sound less forceful. The SDR2 artbook itself states that they went back and redid all of his sprite work to make his emotions appear more ambiguous. It's very apparent that not knowing what Komaeda is truly thinking or feeling is a big part of his character. Hinata himself laments about this in many FTEs with him.

I think the writers simply took advantage of the humble culture in Japanese to drive this home. Is he simply humble, or does he really mean what he says?

Now...don't get me wrong: Komaeda does go beyond being humble. He does outright insult himself in a way that is unmistakably not humble.

Take the chapter 1 Trial:

KOMAEDA: ボクは決定的に最低で最悪で愚かで劣悪で、何をやってもダメな人間なんだ。 KOMAEDA: I am, without a doubt, an awful, horrible, ignorant*, inferior, worthless person, and that will never change no matter what I do.

*Komaeda isn't calling himself stupid necessarily. I don't really know how to put it, but it's like...you do stupid things, but you yourself may or may not be intelligent. It's kind of like no matter how smart you get, you will always make dumb mistakes. I hope that makes sense.

This is not being humble. This is very self-deprecating stuff and things nobody would (or should) say about themselves in any sort of casual setting. This is a very shocking turning point because, up until now, Komaeda was just humble. Putting himself down lightly, saying his talent "isn't much" and that he's not as important as the Ultimates sound reasonable, sounds humble. This isn't reasonable or humble, and he says it with very strong assertion, indicated by なんだ and the end.

Also, he never says he's "made peace" with it (which I take to mean he's okay with it?) but that may have been this NISA translators' answer to the なんだ at the end, as it makes Komaeda sound like he's stating a fact. I don't agree simply because I feel like his feelings should be left ambiguous as said earlier...but I understand the mindset.

By the way, before that...the team totally mistranslated a line that had me tilting my head for five minutes trying to figure out how the two connected.

KOMAEDA: 夢や希望を持つのもおこがましいほど・・・努力をするのもずうずうしいほど・・・

I couldn't quite figure out why the NISA translation felt so off to me but the Japanese didn't, and it took me a bit of thought but I figured it out. It's because NISA got the topic of the conversation wrong.

See...Komaeda never says "I'm" in this sentence. It's normal not to say "I'm" in Japanese, though. Topics can be inferred. But then, the next line, where he talks about how he's awful, horrible, etc., he does start with "I am" (ボクは) indicating a change in topic. Meaning the topic of the sentence before it is not about him but about the subject of having dreams and hopes/trying hard.

That might sound confusing, but let me write what this line should look like:

KOMAEDA: It'd be pretentious of me to have hopes and dreams...it'd be audacious of me to try and work hard...

Basically, Komaeda is saying having hopes and dreams is too good for someone like him, and that him working hard to strive for something would be an insult to others.

This definitely makes sense for the next line, where he then says this will never change no matter what he does.

The official English gets it backwards, and now it sounds like he's too...good for these things? To me, at least.

To be fair, because of how it's written, it's easy to make that mistake. But I feel like they should have realized it makes no sense translated that way. Hm...

Anyways, as you can see, Komaeda does say things that are not merely being humble. He truly does have awful opinions of himself, or at least states them in a very pointed, factual manner.

You can argue that his humbleness is an extension of his self-deprecation...or maybe he's just both at the same time. Up to the audience to think.

Lastly, Komaeda often times says ボクなんか or ボクなんて (boku-nanka and boku-nante), which translates literally as "someone like me". It puts yourself down, like, "Someone like me can't be in such a cool club..." or something. This can be humble as much as it can be self-deprecating. It depends on the context of its usage, which I think does hit home with that ambiguous vibe.

I think that's it...I really hope this answered your question! Thank you for the patience!

#;noxiatalks2ya #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #sdr2 #dr #;translationtalk

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starshoyo · 2 days ago

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SECRETS ★

PAIRING Kita Shinsuke x fem! reader

WARNINGS None

TAGS I love Kita sm, more Kita fics pls, Inarizaki finding out he’s basically married

IN WHICH the Inarizaki volleyball team finds out that their blunt and cold captain has a girlfriend

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒/𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

KITA SHINSUKE WAS a feared man. To outsiders, the Inarizaki men’s volleyball team was full of intimidating people.

Take for example, Miya Atsumu, the setter who had full blown confidence in himself and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Or Ojiro Aran, the powerful third year who was one of the top five aces in the whole nation.

Then there was Suna Rintarou, eyes judging and observing, a smile nowhere to be seen. Of course, you couldn’t forget about Miya Osamu, who much like Suna, never smiled.

And to think that they could all be controlled by their captain, Kita Shinsuke, said a lot. The man must’ve been terrifying, and he was.

Kita reminded the team much of a mother, who was kind and generous behind the scenes, but wouldn’t waste a breath in correcting any foul behavior. His eyes of warning became enough for them to listen to them, a chill being sent down their spine.

He was much like a robot, they liked to say. He didn’t say much, and was perfect in every way. He seemed almost emotionless, which is why it was such a big surprise when they found out he had a girlfriend.

I mean, it was only natural that the team didn’t know. You went to a whole different school, and Kita never talked about himself enough for them to even question it.

You had known him since childhood, growing up as neighbors and going to the same school up until high school. There, he had decided to go to Inarizaki, while you would go to a different school that had a better women’s volleyball team.

Unfortunately, your team had lost in the first round of nationals. Fortunately, that meant you were now able to turn your full focus onto your boyfriend, watching his matches and cheering for him.

Inarizaki had been grouped outside of the gym after a win against a school. You were roaming the halls, hoping to get a glance of your uniform. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, especially with both of you being too busy with nationals.

Then, you saw his familiar back facing you, the team huddled around him as they probably were going over their match. You quietly walked behind him, not sure if you should interrupt him or not, but Atsumu, who was facing you, noticed you.

He raised a brow, before clearing his throat. “Uh, Kita-san?” He pointed a finger at you. Kita turned around, and as if they weren’t in the middle of a meeting, he walked towards you. With a smile on his face.

The team watched as he conversed with you, too far to hear. “Did… Kita-san just smile?” Suna murmured, face twisted in confusion. “Who… is that?” Atsumu continued, asking the question all of them were thinking. “Aran, don’t ya know? Yer closest to him.”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “I mean- I’ve never- He’s never mentioned a girlfriend.”

“Maybe a family member?” Osamu mumbled. The theory would quickly be shut down when you leaned into him, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, before waving and walking away. When Kita turned back towards them, they all whipped their heads in opposite directions.

He walked back, tablet still in his hands. “Sorry.” Kita apologized, before going back to the meeting without addressing the obvious elephant in the room. Thankfully, Atsumu was the type of person who couldn’t read the room.

“Kita-san, ya never told us ya have a girlfriend?” He said loudly in disbelief, as if he’s been betrayed. Kita, still monotonous as ever, stared up at him with blank eyes. “It doesn’t have anything to do volleyball.” He said matter-of-factly, like stating that the grass is green and the sky is blue.

“So she IS yer girlfriend!” Atsumu exclaimed. Kita looked around at the wide, anticipating eyes of his teammates. He was confused why they’re cared so much. Nevertheless, he slowly nodded.

Then chaos erupted.

Aran was the first to complain. “Oh, come on! Kita, we’ve been friends three years, and I never knew?” He whined, arms crossed over his chest. The shorter male flinched, not realizing how that may come off rude. “Kita-san, cold, scary Kita-san… a girlfriend?” Atsumu complained, hands in his hair.

“I mean, it’s not that surprising.” Osamu mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “She was real pretty.” Suna followed.

Kita crossed his arms over his chest, which was enough to get everybody to shut up. There was silence amongst them for a couple seconds, Kita finally sighed. “We don’t have time to be talking about this. Now focus.” He said.

Though, they didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment.

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inserttemptitlehere · 3 days ago

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I'm sorry, "pollutant being used as a riot control agent" is just some nonsense to make it sound nicer. Do not sugar coat it, it's a chemical they're using as a weapon - a chemical weapon. And they showed that stuff lingering, it has to or it wouldn't be effective. They have no idea what the long term consequences of using it on the innocent people they used it on is (yes, they used it tactically, but they clearly used it in some civilian populated areas to clear them out to get to the crime lord locations). And "non-lethal" when it comes to weapons always means "less lethal than normal weapons". The only thing we do know about it is that it's a pollutant that caused widespread sickness throughout Zaun (which I imagine is not good for people to be re-exposed to). It's just wholely fucked up to reintroduce it again (even for a "short period") considering the trauma they have surrounding it. Jinx had every right to criticize Vi for agreeing to use it, because it's fucked up.

Sorry, I just don't believe anti-drug nonsense. I don't think it's possible for us to come to an agreement on shimmer. Ah, I did miss 'adoptive' family my bad. That makes much more sense. I will say that Jinx blames herself for their adoptive family's death (because she is responsible), but it is absolutely true that Silco would've killed them if she hadn't.

Jinx is absolutely responsible for hurting Vi, but what Vi did because of that hurt is all her.

Honestly, every single one of Jinx's accusations against Vi is so hypocritical:

1) "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different".

She accuses Vi of not loving/accepting her as she is. This is already an absurd expectation, because first, Vi has no obligation to "accept her as she is" when she is doing all the horrible things that she does, and second, Vi actually does love her despite all her mistakes, it's Jinx herself who refuses Vi's offer to leave and start anew.

But it's also a completely hypocritical accusation: she wants Vi to accept her as she is, but she doesn't accept Vi as she is. Vi is a person who is not willing to murder innocents and also someone who cares about Caitlyn. But Jinx doesn't accept that about her sister. She wants Vi to change for her, she wants Vi to become a murderer and kill Caitlyn to prove her love for her, and when Vi refuses, she rejects Vi. So Jinx herself doesn't accept Vi as she is.

2) "Poisoning our air"

This is incredibly hypocritical coming from a person who spent years helping to poison the people of Zaun with shimmer, a drug that devastated Zaun. Vi and Caitlyn's use of the Grey at least was targeted against the chem-barons (the very people that were poisoning Zaun with Shimmer and that Jinx spent years helping), and the Grey is also not shown to be lethal. Silco spreading shimmer, on the other hand, was not targeted. He didn't sell shimmer in a controlled manner for its healing properties, he sold it in a widespread manner, getting people addicted, debilitated, and turning them into monsters that attack other people. And Jinx helped Silco do it. What she did is much worse than what Vi did, but apparently it's ok for Jinx to poison her own people.** (And that's not even mentioning all the other bad things against Zaun that Jinx helped happen by working with Silco, like the child slave labor, the killing of the Firelights and all other of Silco's crimes)

3) "Wish I was seeing things when you decided to throw in with the Piltie goons who murdered mom and dad"

Again, so hypocritical. Yes, Vi joined the enforcers. But she joined a team with an enforcer that she trusted (Caitlyn), and she didn't join anyone directly responsible for their parent's deaths. Jinx, on the other hand, actually joined the man directly responsible for the deaths of their adoptive family.** Not to mention that Jinx's actions are the main reason Vi joined the enforcers in the first place.

**By the way, I know that Jinx was a kid when she was taken in by Silco. But as an adult, we never see Jinx express remorse for working with him. On the contrary, we see her grieve him, smell his jacket and only ever think fondly of him, never criticizing him for his role in destroying Zaun. And while she was a kid when she was taken in, she continues helping him as an adult, she continues doing it even after Vi comes back and tries to help her, and it's also implied that Ekko tried to help her in the past and she refused (or if he didn't try, she still could have tried to ask for his help, she had somewhere else to go other than staying with Silco). She could have left Silco as an adult but didn't. As Ekko said, she works for Silco not because she needs to, but because she wants to, and she constantly seeks Silco's validation. So while I can understand that Jinx was a vulnerable kid that was manipulated by Silco, I still think that if she's going to make these accusations against Vi without ever self-reflecting about her own role in helping Silco oppress Zaun, then it's fair to call out her hypocrisy.

4) "Wake up, sis. I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug."

First of all, it's incredibly insensitive for her to throw Stillwater in Vi's face, considering that she knows Vi spent 7 years there, and it's really cruel to mock Vi for being "passed out in the bottom of a mug" considering that part of the reason Vi has been spiraling and drinking were Jinx's own actions. Jinx is part of the reason why Vi has been getting wasted like this.

But it's also hypocritical, because she is accusing Vi of doing nothing while Zaun is suffering, even though Jinx herself was also doing nothing. She was hiding with Isha and would not have helped anyone if Isha hadn't been taken. Not to mention that her own terrorist attacks are the very reason Zaun is being occupied, and Vi helped Zaun way more than Jinx ever did.

(Tbh, I find it frustrating that Vi never got to properly answer to Jinx's accusations or point out Jinx's hypocrisy. I get that for most of the show, Vi is never really in a good state of mind to actually answer to these accusations, especially because Vi is usually busy blaming herself for everything. So I'm not saying it's bad writing that Vi never properly defended herself against these accusations. But it's still very frustrating)

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severus-snaps · 2 days ago

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currently thinking how... weird it was that Snape's memories came out like they did as he died? all of the other times, memories are extracted and act like this:

Snape pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and Harry tensed in his chair, but Snape merely raised the wand to his temple and placed its tip into the greasy roots of his hair. When he withdrew it, some silvery substance came away, stretching from temple to wand like a thick gossamer strand, which broke as he pulled the wand away from it and fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it swirled silvery-white, neither gas nor liquid

“For a trip down Bob Ogden’s memory lane,” said Dumbledore, pulling from his pocket a crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance ... Dumbledore tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve where they swirled and shimmered, neither liquid nor gas

Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it — but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve

Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long, silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand-tip. Longer and longer the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery bright, from the wand. Slughorn lowered it into the bottle where it coiled, then spread, swirling like gas.

Usually memories appear almost like hair in appearance and physicality; a 'gossamer strand', falling gracefully, for example; gossamer's primary definition is "a film of cobwebs floating in air in calm clear weather", according to Merriam-Webster, and a 'strand', of course, meaning "a single thin length of something such as thread, fibre, or wire". They are removed via a wand, a wordless spell, with the wand positioned near the temple. They float, they break, they swirl, more solid than gas yet never as heavy as liquid - until they reach the Pensieve, where they're described most commonly as swirling - which may be an effect of the Pensieveitself.

Either way, the descriptions stay fairly consistent until Snape's death, both in terms of how the memories act (almost fragile, delicate, thin, wispy) and how they are extracted (wand-tip to the temple).

And then there's Snape's death:

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes

"Neither gas nor liquid" but likened both to his effusive blood-loss, gushing, leaking, this time they really do sound more like a liquid than the previous mentions, and they gush out of every (facial) orifice: his eyes, his ears, his mouth.

Sure, he's leaking several memories, all at once - but even in scenes where Snape is removing multiple memories intentionally, they typically come out one at a time, in the same strands that they do for everyone else. Perhaps when multiple memories are stored together they become more liquid, hence the descriptions of the Pensieve in GoF:

He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid — or like wind made solid — Harry couldn’t make up his mind.

But it's just weird. I know it's probably not the usual way of doing things because Snape's in the middle of dying horribly, but my point really is that if memories are usually extracted using a wand, pointed at the temple, one at a time, the really weird thing is that they're now gushing so much from Snape's mouth, ears, and eyes with no wand at all (also, apparently none gushes from his nose? Very see/hear/speak no evil; I suppose nobody ever says 'smell no evil').

Even as Snape's dying he somehow manages to forcefully eject his memories from his head (and really, I feel the nose would've been the most practical exit - I'm no expert I'm just thinking of the ancient egyptians who would remove the brain via the nose for mummification), without using his wand, they do not leave via his temple, and they come so forcefully from his eyes and ears and mouth that they gush like his blood after a very bloody attack, leaking.

I don't have a point I just have a bee in my bonnet about it this evening

#pro snape #snape #severus snape #snape fandom #professor snape #pro severus snape #snapedom #Pensieve

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twst-hottest-takes · 3 days ago

Note

I sent that ask about Malleus's treatment being unfair and now that it's over I'm going to make my point more clear, since it seems it wasn't last time.

Malleus's crimes:

-Putting people to sleep on a wide scale

-Less injuries that a *sports* tournament (according to Epel)

The other overblots' crimes:

-Attempted murder, including targeted murder and wiping out *all life* (aka murder on a wide scale)

Malleus's consequences:

-Accidentally killed his own father

-Physically maimed

-Magically disabled

-Losing the entire foundation of who he is and having to rebuild his identity from scratch

-The trauma of his actions

The other overblots' consequences:

-Riddle was socially shunned for a while (and even this is shown mostly in other media, not the game)

-The trauma of their actions

Meanwhile the other overblots say that Malleus deserves further punishment (to which Crowley thankfully points out they have no right to speak) as does a fair chunk of the fanbase. How does this make any sense? Might I also add that the only ones who ever apologized for their actions are Riddle, Vil, and *Malleus.* So why is it that Malleus is seen as being so much worse than the others? Why is Malleus called a monster, a living disaster, and the enemy of mankind (all things said in canon) and nobody else has anything similar said about them? I'm not arguing that there shouldn't be consequences, I'm arguing that the scale of it does not align with twst's previous messaging and themes. Whether or not Malleus's consequences are fair in general is one thing, but in comparison with our previous standards it's wildly unfair. And yet people are still calling for more, and fans are being rude to Diasomnia fans about it. It simply doesn't add up.

As for Silver, nowhere did I say Silver should pay for his father's crimes. I said that his *father* never earned the right for his image to be restored because he stood idly by against what he thought was wrong. Silver shouldn't have to be used to restore his *father's* image, when that image doesn't align with who Silver is.

Dear Anon,

I was writing a well thought out and sincere response essay to your initial take, but since you're back and doubling down I'm just going to tell you why you're wrong.

WARNING: The following response is pretty rude. Malleus gets everything he had coming to him and here's why. . .

No, really.

This is going to sound "mean."

You didn't even bother to address the questions I presented in my previous response.

You aren't going to like this.

Stop scrolling. . .

WHAT PART OF, "MALLEUS DRACONIA IS CAUSING A WORLD-ENDING MAGICAL CATASTROPHY," DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?????

The story established that PEOPLE WOULD DIE if the spell wasn't broken. Malleus had absolutely no intention of stopping what he was doing. He didn't stop at just Lilia, or the party, or the school, or even stop at Sage's Island. He was going to curse the whole of Twisted Wonderland. If he wasn't stopped by force EVERYONE WOULD HAVE DIED, and you're trying to tell me that it's not as bad as Riddle (whose overblot never affected anyone outside of the unbirthday party), Leona, and Vil (who's rampages were contained to a sports stadium) because he "Wasn't trying to hurt anyone"? Because "No one actually ended up getting hurt"?No. I'm not going to feel bad about the sentient manifestation of a mass extinction event being referred to as, "The enemy of humanity." If something or someone is threatening the entire population of the world (including beastmen, merfolk, and other fae) then he is in fact an enemy of everyone under threat, REGARDLESS OF WHAT HIS INTENTIONS ARE. You ever hear "The road to hell is paved with good intentions"? Yeah. That. Malleus didn't want to kill people, but that's effectively what he was doing and ignoring that fact is blatantly irresponsible. On a better day? Everyone's fear of Malleus is largely misplaced and of course calling him an enemy of humanity would be inherently prejudiced and way out of line. BUT THAT WAS NOT THE SITUATION AT THE TIME AND YOU ARE IGNORING THE THREAT HE VERY MUCH POSED IN FAVOR OF BABYING HIM OVER HIS INTENTIONS!

Let's recap here: MULTIPLE PEOPLE TRIED TO TALK MALLEUS DOWN AND GET HIM TO STOP OF HIS OWN ACCORD. Pray tell, dear Anon, what should they have done after that? You want to compare overblots? Let's compare overblots.

Every prior overblot in this story has been resolved by every nearby available person beating the ever loving snot out of the guilty party until it was over. As a result, five out of six previous overblots were ended within an hour of them occurring. Idia at the time was an exception and had been overblotted for several hours by the time he was knocked back to his senses. In the case of the Tartarus crisis, they even used STYX most powerful anti-blot weapons (the thunder spears) to attack the Shroud brothers because it was necessary to use potentially lethal force to stop the phantoms from breaking out of the facility and effectively save the world. THEY DID WHAT THEY HAD TO DO AND THEY DID NOT HOLD BACK! THEY DID NOT KNOW IF THEY COULD SAVE IDIA! In this way, Malleus is being treated EXACTLY like the other overblotters. When Malleus Draconia overblots, they tried the usual tactics. They tried to collectively overpower him at the farewell party and no one could touch him. Everyone was helpless to stop him. They all fell to his magic quick as winking. Malleus Draconia has TERRIFYING AMOUNTS OF MAGIC. So when he won't listen to reason, WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS ARE THEY SUPPOSE TO DO TO STOP HIM FROM ENDING LIFE ON THE PLANET AS THEY KNOW IT?

. . .

I know.

How about something they've been doing since the start of the story?

TAKE AWAY HIS MAGIC!

You know, what Riddle's signature spell does? What he did to Grim in the prologue? What he did to Leona when confronting him about the sports sabotage? Remember how in order to STOP RIDDLE FROM KILLING PEOPLE Trey overwrote his signature spell so that they would stand a fighting chance? Remember when the previous overblotters (and Grim) were immediately dressed in anti-magic collars to avoid issues when they were brought to STYX to be vetted? It's almost like we established that this is a thing people do in Twisted Wonderland do to handle magical emergencies.

Truly and honestly, what are you supposed to do when one of the five most powerful mages in the world poses a threat to your very existence and those you love? Try talking him down AGAIN? It makes complete and total sense to try and make Malleus weaker. How are they supposed to fight and beat him to stop the world as they know it from ending when he has access to the UNHOLY AMOUNTS OF MAGIC that they have repeatedly established he has? That they have been bested by repeatedly. NO ONE IN ON OR OFF OF SAGE'S ISLAND HAD BEEN ABLE TO TOUCH HIM OR DO ANYTHING AGAINST HIS POWER FOR DAYS! HE HAS BEEN OVERBLOTTING FOR DAYS WITHOUT A STOP TO HIS EXPANDING SPHERE OF INFLUENCE ENVELOPING THE WORLD! Cutting off his horns was a perfectly valid step to take because THEY QUITE LITERALLY HAD NO OTHER OPTIONS!

As for leaving him dismembered and disabled. . .

First off, let's remember that I just pointed out that the fate of the world was resting on that decision, and they had no other choice.

Secondly. . .

You have got to be kidding me.

Are you really comparing Malleus losing a PIECE of ONE of his horns to someone losing a limb? It's not even like losing your pinky finger! It's maybe sorta kinda like getting a nail torn out. HIS HORN WILL GROW BACK.

"But magic is second nature to fae so it IS like losing a__"

Shut up. No it's not.

He can still use magic. HE IS NOT DISABLED!

Oh no! One of the top five most powerful mages on the planet can't casually use magic to deal with every element of his daily life and fix every minor inconvenience he's presented with anymore. He might have to struggle to do things now. WHAT EVER WILL POOR MALLEUS DO NOW THAT HE'S NOT EXPONENTIALLY MORE POWERFUL THAN ALL HIS PEERS AND TEACHERS!? I GUESS HE'LL JUST HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! HOW DARE HE BE HUMANIZED! HOW DARE THIS PRECIOUS TRAUMATIZED MAGESTIC PRINCELY OVERPOWERED DRAGON IN HUMAN FORM BE FORCED TO LIVE LIKE THE COMMON FOLK!

I guess he'll just have to learn to see things through the eyes of his peers and have a new perspective on life he wasn't privvy to previously now that magic isn't something he can fling around casually. Seriously. How dare Malleus be given character development potential when none of the other overblotters were treated like this. IT'S SSOOOOOO UNFAAAAAAIIIRRRRRRR!!!1!1!1!1!!

Oh yeah, do you want to keep comparing him to the other overblotters? Because with how much of his horn he lost, he's about as disfigured as Leona. You know. The guy with the scar? Malleus has a scar now, however, unlike Leona's, Malleus' scar will disappear.

Have I mentioned how Riddle was in the same boat of abusing his power because he thought he was doing "the right thing" because he was also traumatized as a child? Riddle is so weak by comparison and caused so little a comparative fuss that a punch to the face and getting hassled by his dormmates is justice by TWST standards (we all know this is a writng problem for this game in general, right?). And you REALLY don't want me to mention how every other person who overblotted acted out of their minds with rage and pent up emotions as they did violent things that they ordinarily wouldn't consider while Malleus was oddly lucid and could actually consider being talked to while he cursed the world. Malleus was destroying the world and in enough of his right mind to consider stopping. But no, Malleus is the one being treated unfairly.

Dear Anon, Malleus Draconia has always been an extreme character. He's always been extremely powerful and used his magic flippantly with little regard for how others feel about it. His overblot caused an extreme situation that the rest of the cast was forced to take extreme measures to deal with. Him being treated "differently" from all of the other overblotters is DIRCTLY PROPORTIONAL TO THE DANGER HE POSED. On the extreme scale Malleus is working on, he is certainly not worse off than any other previous chapters' final bosses. So, no, I don't care that people called him mean names when he was slowly destroying the world. I don't care that his magic was "nerfed" and now he has to come down off his high horse and live a little like everyone else now. And I really don't care that fans are asking for more justice to be done JUST LIKE THEY DO WITH EVERY OTHER OVERBLOTTER WHO GOT OFF WITH A SLAP ON THE WRIST! WE DEMAND MORE FROM ALL OF THEM! Malleus is NOT an exception.

"Thank you for your take."

And yes, saying that Silver should not have his heroic moment as a knight in shining armor because that armor was worn when committing war crimes IS devaluing Silver based on his father's sins. Being a knight in shining armor is completely in character for Silver (AS A FREAKING DISNEY PRINCESS), and the fact that he is doing a good thing is meant to CONTRAST with his father who did bad things, NOT absolve said father of wrongdoing. The same tool that was once used for evil is now being used for good. IT'S POETIC!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst hot takes #hot take #ask response #twst hot take #twst malleus #twst chapter 7 #twst book 7 #twst spoilers #book 7 spoilers #malleus draconia #overblot malleus #character comparison #character discourse #character discussion #the blog owner gets mean #a nice version of this existed #but now you've caught hands

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cuntyhunty22 · 3 days ago

Text

Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you.

Paring: joel x reader

Description: Joel is a regular at your bar, you rely on him for comfort and advice, feelings are there but the line was never crossed (until one night) he saves you from you toxic abusive boyfriend

Outbreak isn't a thing.

Tags: smut. Dirty talk. Daddy kink. Daddy issues. Sexual tension. Domestic violence. Mature language. Cream pie. Gun mentioned.

This is my first story in a long time. It's gonna be broken up into parts because it's longer than I anticipated. Bare with me 🫶🏼

It was a hot Monday afternoon at Bucks Bar and Grill. It's just a little hole-in-the-wall bar in this small southern town. Everyone who comes here knows each other. You have worked here since you were 18; you are 29 now, so it's kinda like family. They all have watched you grow up, been there for you through all your trials and tribulations... your issues with your absent father, your alcoholic mother, and now your very toxic narcissist of a boyfriend.

It's about 4:30 when people start coming in as the day whines down, mainly people who've been up at it all day come in around this time..and you look around in hopes one of your favorites shows up… Joel Miller.

He's a great guy and someone you have always looked for advice from. I guess he was the closest to a father figure in your life. From just coming to talk to at the bar or inviting you to cookouts at Tommy and Maria's. Which you have always been too chicken to show up to because your boyfriend would go fuckin mental if you did. And just like clockwork, he walks through the door. Tight teeshirt, worn-in blue jeans, and some work boots. His salt-and-pepper hair more curly than usual. You aren't gonna dismiss the fact that he's a very handsome man; you've always thought that. But I suppose it's been something you've never really thought in your brain, with him being over 20 years older than you and the fact you’re still in this shitty relationship you can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try, how many times he's cheated, how many times he's put his hands on you. You stay. It's probably the abandonment issues, to be honest.

Hey, darlin’, how are you doing today? Joel says to you as he sits in his usual corner spot on the bar. You just look at him, and it's like he can read your face. "I'm okay, just getting through the day." You crack a smile trying to defuse the conversation. You knew that would eventually start because today you didn't wanna think about your issues. You just wanted to work, make money, and talk to your customers.

"Want your typical order?" Yeah darlin you already knew. You laugh "well Mr miller I seem to know what you like" you seen him smirk and his eyes get dark. Shit you thought.. did I just flirt with him. (Yes you did.) you set his whiskey down, along with a beer. As you do that he notices a light bruise on your cheek bone you attempted to cover with makeup. Darlin.. I don't mean to be rude but what the fuck is on your face.. he reaches up to gently brush your face ..did he- you cut him off. "It's nothing I'm just clumsy and I smacked my face off the sink getting out of the shower." Joel scoffs because he knew it was a lie clear as day. I've told you, you need to leave. You need to take care of yourself because if something happens to you.. he trails off his sentence like he just let more off than he's just a regular at your bar. " Joel I'm fine" you replied. "I have to go out to the shed and change a keg.. I'll be back if you need me."

You go back behind the bar to grab a new beer keg because one blew just before the rush came in and you finally have a moment to fix it. As you're walking outside you feel someone follow you.. here it is your shitty boyfriend paid you a visit. Hey I need $50 he says. " I gave you $100 this morning.. I don't have-" bitch I know you fucking do he yells.. you can tell he's been drinking more than he should have. As he raises his voice at you Joel appears just a few feet down eyeing the situation.

"I said I don't have it.. not until tomorrow.. why do you think I'm working open to close today." I don't know! Boyfriend screams. Probably because you get off on the attention these old men give you because you'd rather be here than be at home with me.. YOUR BOYFRIEND. "Well someone has to pay the bills instead of blowing money on drugs alcohol and who knows what the hell else." DONT YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT YOU FUCKING WHORE. You are nothing. You work in a bar. In these tiny ass shorts taking money from people that only wanna fuck you.. your gonna be nothing just like your parents.. he grabs your arm hard already leaving hand prints.. you notice Joel has moved just a bit closer with a lit cigarette in hand.

" here take my card there is some money on it, just leave me the fuck alone and don't come back here tonight." You are fighting back tears because this just answered what Joel was asking not even 20 minutes ago. Your boyfriend take the card lets you go and starts walking away. Joel still watching, as boyfriend passes by him. Whores I tell ya, boyfriend tries to joke with Joel.. and Joel looks at him with an expression you've never seen on him.. you've heard he has a dark side but you've never witnessed it until now.. if looks could kill your boyfriend would be dead on the gravel.

You felt so embarrassed.. you knew people knew the situation but you've done pretty good at no one witnessing the shit you deal with. As soon as your boyfriend was out of eyesight you felt this heavy embrace around you as you stand there sobbing. Hey hey hey darlin it's fine.. I'm here we are gonna fix this.. your head is buried into his chest. His warm body on yours, the smell of cologne, whiskey, and cigarettes has taken over your mind.. all these emotions flooding you.. your shitty boyfriend.. how much you hate him.. and oddly enough arousal from being touched gently by a man.. which hasn't happened in god knows how long..

his hands linger on your shoulder as you look up at Joel he's already staring at you. "I need to go back inside..." no he responds take a minute.. you pull away from him and all of a sudden you feel even more empty then you did before.. you came to the realization that you are touch starved and that just ignited a fire in you.

"I have to Joel.. I have to make money because he's going to spend it all, I know he is" you start to tremble again and Joel grabs your face, listen to me... as of right now nothing like this is ever going to happen to you ever again ya hear me...im going to take care of you... "WHY JOEL" you scream at him. "Why because I'm so fucking damaged , because you see a girl with issues and you automatically wanna save- Joel cuts you off by his lips crashing into yours, at first your hesitant and you try to fight it but you couldn't deny that this just what you needed, you needed to feel something besides hate and dread.

You give into the kiss and it gets deeper hungrier, his hands still holding both sides of your face just pulling him closer and close as the kiss gets more passionate you let out a soft moan and that made Joel go crazy. He picks you you up, your lips never leaving one another as you wrap your legs around him and he backs you up against the building, the kisses still building as if that's even possible, Joel's lips eventually leave yours to trace kisses down your neck gently biting, making that soft moan not so soft. Shhh darlin, does this feel good.? "Yes.. uh fuck. Joel put me down." He looks at you confused.

I'm sorry I shouldn't have- "no you should have..

I just hate that it took this situation for it to.. that I'm just not in the best situation right now for this to happen.. that people will have opinions on the age difference "

Then leave him. And fuck em

•

You go back in to finish your shift.. and Joel doesn't leave.. he watched you all night but this time instead of glances of making sure you were okay.. it was glances of pure lust.. pure want.

It's about 2 am now, your kicking everyone out And closing things down. And it hits you that you now have to go home... and you're really unsure if you should.. the bar finally cleared out.. except your kitchen closer.. and one man.. Joel was still here.

"I should get going." You're going home.? He asks concern all over his face. "Joel I have too.. if I don't it's gonna be worse if I do..." don't.. darlin please don't.. we will deal with him.. "Joel there is no we.. sure we shared a moment.. but I'm in a relationship.. and this.. this shouldn't happen I'm the same age as your daughter practically, you know how that will look on me.. on you.. what he will do.."

it kills you saying this because honestly it's the last thing you want to do is hurt a man who has been nothing but kind and caring.. and hell maybe there is something there.. that's the thing you know there is and that scares the hell out of you.

"So yes I am going home." At least let me drive you he says.. "I can't.." give me your phone he demands.. "what why." My number, my address it's there, and take this.. he hands you a wad of money.. you don't even want to know how much is there.. "absolutely fucking not.. Joel.. I can't take your money." You can and you will..he replies.. text me when you get home and I swear if anything goes down if he so much even tries to touch you. You call me. I'm being serious now I ain't playin I mean it you call. "Okay."

Promise me darlin... "I promise."

•

When you make it home it's about 3:15 am.. and your boyfriend isn't home... or so you thought.

"Hey I'm home.. you here.?" You still have your bookbag on.. and you hid the money Joel gave you. "Hello.?" You call out again..

*thud* *thud * followed by moaning..

you scof "you've got to be fucking jokin." You walk upstairs to find your boyfriend fucking another girl. "HEY WHAT THE FUCK" the girl screams. "In our bed!!??? I mean I knew your were shitty but this shitty.!?" He tosses the girl out of the bed and charges toward you.. you fuckin bitch , do you know you ruin my life.. that I have to cheat on you to even get laid.. when's the last time you let me touch you huh.?

He's screaming right in your face backing you up against the railing of the stairs. You shove him.. which you knew was a bad idea because that shove was followed by a punch to the face and a shove that sent you falling down the stairs.. good fuck you you cunt I hope you get brain damage.. oh by the way she sucks better dick than you.. and skinner.

You lay there for a second.. thankfully the fall wasn't as bad as it could have been. You took a quick second to regain your head because you knew he'd be coming down those stairs.. and as soon as you got to your feet here he came..

I need that money.. he screamed.. what did you make tonight being that little whore you are.. huh..? He's standing in front of you now.. give me your book bag. He demands. "No." If you don't give it to me now you bitch I swear to god.. "you swear what huh..?? That you'll hit me.. that you will rape me.. again..?? What else could you do.?"

I'll fucking kill you. He smirks. At the moment you reach for the pocket knife you put in your boot. He chuckled... oh am I supposed to be scared..?? "Don't fucking touch me.. I'm done here okay.. done.. I'm leaving." Fine go.. but give me the money you said you would.. "I gave you $150 in cash.. and there was at least $400 on my card.. what more do you need.!? I'm not giving you anything else ever again..!"

At this moment he's backing you up against the wall his hands heading toward your throat.. and before he could reach them you slice his arm.. YOU CUNT..!! And you took off running to your car.

•

You put your car and drive and sped out.. blacked out from trauma and adrenaline not knowing exactly where you were going until you arrived..

The house is what you would think for a well established contractor. Gorgeous but still very homey nothing over the top. You know it's so late and he's probably fast asleep. You're still spiraling as you bang on the door as hard as you can.. because you were unsure if he decided to follow you or if there was a tracker on your car..

"JOEL.! JOEL.! Please answer.. fuckk" and the door swings open and pulls you inside like lightning. Once you're in, he's holding you as you sob. Sob harder than you probably ever have in your whole life.. baby.. hey.. breathe for me okay.. he looks at you.. you need to breathe. " he- you choke- unable to catch your breath about to have a full blown anxiety attack. The knife still in your pocket but it's now stained your shorts with blood..

Joel looks down and then looks back up at you.. is that your blood..? His jaw clenches and his eyes black as the night. " his blood" you managed to say.. he relaxes a bit.. did he follow you..? "I don't think so.. I don't know.. there might be a tracker on my car but I'm unsure.." okay.. I'll go look. Give you a minute to calm down. Let me grab you something to change into... do you want a beer.? "Okay.. and yes.. but Joel..?" Yes darlin.? "Please don't leave me alone for long. I won't.. and thank you for keeping your promise. That made you crack a slight smile. He brings you out a big flannel to put on and a pair of sweats..

you changed collecting yourself in the bathroom. You ended up just wearing the flannel and underwear because it was over sized on you. You walk out into the living room Joel sitting on the couch two beers waiting. "I know you gave me pants but I hate pants and I just want to be comfortable so if it's inappropriate I'll put them on." He chuckles. Babygirl you are worried about not wearing pants.. of all things... you laugh "yeah that's kinda stupid to be the thing I'm worried about isn't it." Are we calmed down..comfortable.. anything else I can get you.? " I'm alright."

Okay.. walk me through what happened.. you explained everything to him.. tonight.. the past 2 years.. all of it. You can stay in the guest room until you figure things out.. I'm not letting anyone hurt you ever again okay... you are safe. "But what about your daughter.. will she be okay with me here, I don't wanna overstep..I'll drive to my parents.. it's better there than being with him."

No.

You are staying here. "Joel I just left someplace that dictated what I did please don't tell me what the hell I should do and where I should stay." He looked hurt. I didn't mean it that way darlin I'm sorry. I just know if you are here you are safe. Sarah will be fine. She comes and goes because she's at college. Not only that maybe you could be friends. You laugh. "Yeah okay be friends with the man's daughter who saved me.. and oh I had a hot make out session with him in the same night that I sliced my boyfriends arm - ex Boyfriend Joel pipes in.. "sounds like a great plan" Joel chuckels. Okay I didn't say it was perfect or ideal or hell not odd but you would be safe and frankly that's all I give a damn about.

•

It's about dawn now and you haven't slept at all.. darlin do you wanna try to sleep Joel asks. "Honestly I don't think I can.." come here.. Joel stretches out on the couch patting up to his chest.. you crawl up to him laying your head right down as he wraps his arms around you. Covering you with the safest you've felt. Do you think you could sleep now.? "No.. but I like this.." you let out a deep breath finally fully relaxing besides the butterflies you feel from being this close to Joel. As you exhale warm lips touch your forehead in a sweet kiss. Hmm..I'm sorry- Joel huffs..

" don't be.. " you lift up pushing your lips onto his and hunger hits.. the kiss was so eager so passionate. Your tongues caress one another begging for more pulling the kiss deeper and deeper as he bites your bottom lip.. you feel heat between your thighs building. " Joel fuck..-mhmm.." his lips leave yours finding your neck.. he goes straight to the spot that made you moan earlier.. as he does this your hands in his hair which is something you fantasized about. You did a slight tug and he himself let out a moan. God baby is this okay..he strares at you as his hands trace down under the flannel to your ass. Grabbing it.. literally worshiping it.. you moan again... I think that's my answer he chuckled.

He continues kissing that sweet spot on your neck and you just feel yourself flooding. Your hands roam around his body as you feel the bulge in his pants.. you carefully squeeze and Joel lets out this animal like moan. He grabs your hands being careful not to be too rough with everything you've been through.. baby don't worry about me let me take care of you..

he shifts you around legs on the floor and he gets between them. Kissing up your legs on your tattoos.. ya know.. I have always found these so sexy.. kissing continues upward. "Mhmmm is that -ahh fuck mhmm.." your sentence is interrupted the touch of his fingers grazing your heat through your panties.. can I take these off..?? He asks. And as much as this is heated he is so gentle with you.. which in this moment is what you needed. " yes" you whimper. He slides your panties off the sides your leg open wide for him to dive his tongue right into your wetness.

Mhmm- your- so- he manages to say between licks- so wet- so soft. You arch back pulling him more into you, grinding yourself on his tongue as he licks and sucks. " ahh I'm ahh fuck I'm-" he then slides 3 fingers in he doesn't even bother building it up because he knew you needed it. Fingers curling right where you need them, in and out of you at just the right pace. You couldn't hold it in anymore you've tried to contain it. The room is filled with your moans of ecstasy.. it all building up.. Joel still working on you, fingers in and it as he sucks gently on your bud.. you reach down and pull his face to you, your wetness on his beard but you didn't care, lips crashing together full of need as Joel still working woks his fingers on you..

"Joel - I " I know baby.. mhmm go'head I got you. Cum for me. Let go. And you did you let go. "Fuck oh my god.. Joel's lips back on yours as you catch your breath and the ecstasy of your orgasam washes away. Feel good? He asks.. "considering there is a puddle on the ground what do you think." Mhmm made a mess for me huh baby.. you blush as that hasn't happened in years. " yes." Let's wash up and try to sleep huh. Joel says. "Okay" you follow him to the bathroom then to his bedroom to sleep.

•

You wake the few hours in Joel's bed. Staring at the ceiling you're not sure how to feel. From pretty much stabbing your ex.. to having Joel give you the best oral you've ever experienced to now laying here naked in his bed. You roll over to find his spot Empty but a note was left.

*darlin I'm sorry to have you wake up alone, had to go check on a project, please text me when you wake.. I'll be day dreaming about drowning in that sweet wetness.*

-Joel

You can't help but to smile.. you check your phone to see you have 59 calls from an unknown number and texts.. which you assume are your ex.. you block and delete all of them.. knowing your going to have to change your phone number.. now you text Joel..

* as lovely as it was to ride your face and fingers I think there is some thing else I want to ride today.. (attached image ) you naked in his bed.

-incoming FaceTime : Joel miller

"Hi"

Hi darlin

"Old man I'm surprised you knew how to FaceTime"

Old.. he chuckles.. this old man knows how to do lots of things..

"I'm well aware"

You work today correct..? I'll be there when I'm finished.. this next part might freak you out but just listen to me.. there is a gun in the nightstand.. I want you to take it with you okay. No arguing just do it.

"Okay.. Joel... I woke up to a bunch of calls and messages im scared."

I know baby take the gun okay.. just precaution.. I'll see you later.. and we can talk about what else you're riding.. oh btw Tommy said hi.

"Jesus Christ Joel you told Tommy.!? Fine whatever hi Tommy. Okay see you later.

*facetime ends

•

You get dressed in clothes you had in your car.. little black skirt.. tank top and Joel's flannel. You pull your hair up into a clip.. doing your makeup the best you can to hide the new bruises.. grab the gun and head out the door.

It's about 4 when you get to work.. and if the timing is right Joel will be here in 45 mins.. when you get there the older lady who you work with pulls you into the kitchen. Sweetie pie you alright..? Your old man was in here looking for ya.. real distressed...said something about you owe him money.. you give in and you tell her everything.. what happened where you've been ..

she's the closest to a mother and if you want to be safe you need the truth out there.

Oh honey I'm so sorry she says.. "it's okay.. it's just time to move on and end this." Sooo Joel miller huh.. she chuckles I mean I can't blame ya he's a gorgeous man and an even better human.. he's been through it too ya know.. she looks at you. " I can tell but I don't ask.. I'm just thankful he exists.. but I'm worried people will judge.." do you think he could make you happy? She asks..

"honestly right now there is not many things I'm sure of.. but he is the one thing I am."

•

Joel walks in.. beautiful as ever. You don't know if it's the left over feelings from making a mess In his living room or if he has always been this attractive.. he hasn't even touched you and you feel a heat between your legs.. but today it's ruthless.. it wild.. it's wanting him in every way possible.

He smiles when he notices that green flannel tied around your waist. You grab his order not even having to ask him and take it over to him.. " Mr miller.. whiskey neat and a beer." You always give me what I want huh darlin. "Is there anything thing else you want Mr miller.." you lean across getting close to him faces inches apart. Actually there is.. but I'm not sure it's appropriate to bend you over in a full bar.. don't want them to hear those sweet little moans..your mouth drops. "

"Is that something you've thought about before..??" If we are being honest here, I've been enchanted by you since you started working here. Your tan skin, your green eyes.. those lips. Your face is now a million shades of red. " I need to work I'll be back..." you take off the flannel revealing the cheeky little skirt you have on that hugs all your curves.. you glance back and Joel looks like he just had to adjust himself.

•

Finally 2 am rolls around.. the bar clears out and it's time to get ready to head home... well Joel's home. Kitchen lady left so now it's just Joel and you left in this bar..

" so Mr miller.. bar is empty.." he cocks his head looking at you.. he sweeps you off your feel planting you on the bar.. mhmm I've thought about you All day he whispers in your ear as he kisses across your jaw working his way down to your neck right to that spot. "Hmmmm yeah what about..." you guide his hands between your thighs to you lacy panties you have on. He doesn't even bother teasing he just reaches right in making your body arch. " daddy please" you smirk because you knew that would unlock something. Circling your bud with the right amount of pressure to get you right where he wants you.. Slid a finger in just because.. and what do you want from daddy.. still sliding that one finger in and out just to keep you on edge..

"I want... ahhh mhmm fuck.. " focus look at me, he cups your face eyes locked in. What do you want.. tell me.. " as much as I want to ride you.. I want you to fuck me.. " how he ask.. still teasing toying with you. " on this bar Joel.. fuck me on this bar.. so when you come in here the only thing you think of is me screaming your name as I cum all over your big cock." He's taken back a but he just looks at you and smiles.

He slides your panties off and pushes your skirt up.. you undo his belt unzipping his tight jeans where you can fully see how hard you have him. You reach in and pull it out, and god is he big, long and girthy you just knew he was going to fill you up. He takes his cock and rubs it against your entrance pre cum on the tip mixing with your wetness. Look at me.. you look up and he pushes his cock into you.. " fuckin Christ.. you fill me up so good.." Joel's thrust starts easy and gentle just getting used to each other building it up. And after each thrust it intensifies as he puts your legs on his shoulders thrusting Even deeper into you.. you gonna cum for daddy he says thurts getting harder and faster like he just can't get enough of you he just needs more and more and more. " yes" you whimper "but only if you cum in me.. I wanna feel you explode inside of me.." that's all it took to send Joel over the limit. Hard thrusts as he reaches up to rub your clit.. "my god- I - I " yes darlin come on I'm right with you.. "ahhh fuckkkkk" you feel it come over you as he fills you up. And you cum together. Joel lays there for a second trying to comprehend that just really happened.. "did we just fucking cum at the same time..?" He chuckles yes we did. He's still inside you. AS he pulls out you feel the hot seed drip out of you. Hell of a day to wear a skirt-

Crash

Window bust.

Grab the gun.

•

You fucking whore.!!! You hear your ex scream. He's standing outside the big window looking in. Joel zips his pants as he plops you off the bar. Gun.. you have the gun..? He looks over to see it already pointed in your exs direction. "Go home.! I told you I'm done leave me alone.!"

No bitch.. come outside and I'll finish what i started yesterday.. you and your geezer, cant believe you'd fuck someone old enough to be your father.. but that makes sense right.. because you never had a daddy.. so you have to fuck the first one who even gives you the closure you need huh.. can he even fuck you.? Actually I just did Joel replied smugly.

"Joel call the cops" you hand him your phone.. not taking your eyes off your ex gun still pointed at him.. oh so you couldn't finish it with your knife.. so sugar daddy gave you a gun..?? your ex chuckles all cocky. He's the one that gives you money.? Huh.? The one that brings you food.? You remain silent ready to pull the trigger.. darlin we have to go outside.. the alarms are going off and the police are here.. "we can go outside through the back.. he will probably meet us there but maybe by then the cops will be here.." Joel leads the way holding your hand that doesn't have the gun in.. if I open this door and he's here I'm beating the hell out of him you hear me.. I don't want that to scare you.. or make you look at me differently.. because once I start I don't think I can stop. he stares at you worried. "Do what you have too." He opens the door and you ex lunges at you. Knocking you to the ground.. gun flying.. he punches you blood everywhere.. But Joel towers over him and pulls him off of you .. Joel lands a few good punches and he doesn't stop.. he keeps hitting him over and over and over.. a truck pulls up.. followed by cop cars.. lady who lives next door comes running over. Oh honey.!!! She says.. pulling you away as Joel is still punching your ex.. Tommy comes running pulling Joel off.. cops swarm around us.. pulling you and Joel separate ways.. "JOEL" you scream. "JOEL." "I need Joel don't fucking touch me.. "

you hyperventilate and pass out.

Part 2 coming soon.

Music gives me most of my ideas or I listen to something and it amplifies it

#pedro pascal #fanfic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #pedrostories #fanfiction #tommy miller #smut

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