#writing these is stupid fun......

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Shigaraki Kinktober - Day 3 - High Sex and Authority

You blink.

The light on the ceiling fan dangles dangerously low, barely holding on by a single cable. You watch it oscillate from side to side, utterly captivated by the movement. Will it ever stop, or will it go on forever?

You blink again.

It's still moving.

“Hey, hey,” you say, nudging the shoulder next to you. “Hey, Tomura. You ever wonder if stuff is always moving, but we don't look long enough to see it?”

The body next to you lets out a groan.

“It's kinda like us,” you reflect out loud again, feeling the mattress's fabric underneath you with the tip of your fingers. It's a shitty one Compress found on the side of the street, overused and slightly browned. But it's big, and it does the job for a couple of your group to sleep somewhat comfortably in this huge, empty warehouse, while the others are on watch duty.

You miss the bar.

“What does that even mean…” Tomura mutters, huddled in his long black coat. You look over at him, lying on his back, gaze also stuck on the flickering light bulb on the ceiling. His eyes are so bloodshot it's almost impossible to say where his red pupils meet his sclera.

“It's like, I've never noticed this light bulb is always moving,” you attempt to explain, the words jumbled in your mind. “I never focused on it. I kept looking at more obvious things, like- like that fucking broken window over there. What if we did that? Let the heroes focus on the big yakuza problem while we just kept moving, without them noticing us? Like the light bulb.”

There's no answer for a bit, and you wonder if he's dozed off.

“Tomura?” you ask. Your voice feels like it echoes for hours.

“I'm still awake,” finally comes the reply, although from the way he's grumbling it's clear, even in your state, that he's tethering on the edge of sleep. “What did Dabi even put in this joint…” he complains.

Dabi. It's true, Dabi's also here.

You look to your right to find Dabi's crumpled form a little further away on the mattress, facing away from you. He's so still, body stiff has a board, that your mind immediately wonders if he's still breathing.

You crawl up next to him quickly (everything is spinning) and put your hand in front of his face. A warm, regular respiration tickles your palm, and you yell triumphantly:

“He's alive!”

Tomura doesn't seem to share the excitement.

“Of course, he's alive. That piece of shit could go through ten lines of ketamine and still be walking,” he grunts, retracting into the comfort of his coat. “He definitely had something else before the joint.”

You hum in agreement, pushing away a few strands of black hair stuck on Dabi's forehead.

He looks so much younger, sleeping like this, his face not furrowed in anger. Underneath the scars, there are soft, almost boyish features one would never notice without being so close to him.

“He would have probably been pretty handsome, without everything,” you comment absentmindedly.

Silence.

Your eyelids start to feel heavy, closing more slowly but surely. You're only able to reopen your eyes when you realize Tomura has said something.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, still dazed. Sleep would feel so nice if you just closed your eyes again…

“I said,” the man says in a pointed tone, obviously unhappy he has to repeat himself, “do you think I would have been handsome, too?”

What an odd question, you think.

He's the most handsome person you've ever known.

Everything about him makes your heart skip a bit. You love the lonely mole under his lip, the way his hair falls in his eyes, the way he licks his bottom lip when he's focused on a plan. You love every single detail about him. He’s the entire reason you even joined the league. How could he even ask you something that?

“…you seriously think all that? For real?”

You're startled out of your state of languor the second his words register, eyes widening in horror. Had you said all of that out loud?

“I, um- I mean-”

The weight on the mattress shifts, and suddenly, he's on top of you, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth just barely agape, cheeks a light shade of red. You swallow with difficulty, throat already dried up from the weed.

“Did you really mean that?” he asks again, and although his voice doesn't waver, something about the expression on his face is vulnerable, open, in a way you've never, ever, seen him before.

Will you ever get another chance to be so honest with him, and to have him so eager to hear your words?

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice coming out barely louder than a whisper. His face is so close to yours that the tips of his hair tickle your cheek, the smell of the joint on his breath making you dizzier (it spins, everything is spinning).

Your brain doesn't register him move: one second he's inches away from you, the next his lips have crashed onto yours, his tongue worming its way inside your mouth. You try, you try so hard to think, to formulate a single thought, but it's utterly useless: the feeling of him overtakes you, and soon you can't tell where your body ends and his begins.

“To..mura…” you manage to moan out when he pulls away for air, pupils blown, looking at you so intensely it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Boss,” he breathes out.

At first, you think you might have misheard him. But he keeps going, like in a trance, his words slightly slurred: “You joined the League because of me, right? Then why don't you call me Boss?”

“Mm… ‘boss’?” you repeat mechanically, thoughts muddied by the joint. You just want his lips back on yours, his scent filling your lungs.

“Yeah, exactly,” he groans approvingly, his hands wrapping around your body and squeezing at the fat of your thighs. Somewhere, at the very back of your mind, a primitive impulse warns you to watch his fingers and how many of them touch your oh-so-fragile skin. But you ignore it, because you can't bring yourself to care if all five of them touch you, as long as he never pulls away from you again. If these are your last moments on Earth, then goddamn, it will all have been worth it.

You'd never get higher than this.

There's movement somewhere close to you, and suddenly you remember you're sharing the mattress with someone else. One look at Dabi lets you know he's still asleep, but you can't help but stop the man currently ravaging you with a small shove:

“Wait, wait, Dabi is still-”

“No Dabi,” he snarls, teeth biting into your lower lip so harshly you think he might have drawn blood. “There's only me. Your boss. You got that, or do I have to fuck it straight into your stupid little head?”

You'd answer, but he doesn't let you, fuelled by anger and high out of his mind.

Your mouth falls open when his hands find your breasts, twisting your nipples punishingly.

“I'm sorry, boss!” you cry out.

The response is immediate; his hips thrust sharply into your own, his lips back on yours with renewed vigour. You moan into the kiss, opening up your thighs so the bulge between his legs can fit snugly against your clothed warmth. The taste of metal is confusingly sweet on your tongue.

“No one in the League calls me that,” he rasps out, his hands moving up and down your body with little focus or precision. “But I created the whole goddamn thing. Me. How come everyone calls bird brain Chisaki ‘boss’, but I don't get shit? That doesn't seem fair.”

You can't tell if seconds or hours have passed when he takes off your shirt, decaying your bra out of frustration after he can't seem to find how to unhook it by himself. The dust feels strange against your bare skin.

“Tell me again,” he keeps rambling, high off the feeling of you just as much as you are of him, “tell me how much you want your boss.”

“So bad,” you plead, arching your lower body towards him for any friction. You can feel the heat of his cock through your clothes, the weight of it, and you truly feel as though if you don't have him right now, at that moment, you'll die of inattention. “Sir, please, I'd do anything, anything for you,” you continue to beg as you feel wetness on your cheek. Are you crying? You can't keep track of what your body is doing, lost on cloud nine. “I belong to you, boss, I do, please-!”

He shifts his body again, faster than lightning, and he's straddling your chest, heavy cock hanging out of his boxers.

(Are you spinning, or is it the whole world?)

He's long, veiny, light blue hairs peaking out towards the bottom of his shaft. The head is swollen and red, pearly drops of precum already leaking out the slit.

“Now,” he coos, a lazy but unapologetically excited grin etched on his face, “are you going be a good little slut for your boss?”

Your brain feels like it's nothing but mush. You would agree to whatever he’d say right now. You'd follow him to the ends of the world.

“Yes, boss.”

His member twitches in excitement. It's just two little words, but it's so much more than that to him.

“Are you going to do everything I say, like a good little player 2? Put that pretty mouth on my cock, and let me use you?”

The words come out of your mouth like a prayer you've now learned by heart.

“Yes, boss.”

“Then,” he says, ruby eyes locked into yours, the tip of his cock caressing your lips, “what are you waiting for? It's an order.”

You aren't waiting. Not anymore, never again.

“Yes, boss,” you reply diligently.

(It spins, it spins, and it never stops spinning as long as you're with him)

[ohposhers]

This started as a shitpost and then I just kept going anyway AU where Floyd eventually forgives Veneer and they end up becoming besties a few years down the line and have girls nights ugh [NOT SHIP ART!!!] aaand Bonus doodle of when they take the curlers out or some shit dont look at me man

[chalkrub]

so i remembered daily comic day this year and i am paying for it

[crimson-constellations]

atla modern au where suki & zuko are life guards for the summer and sokka just keeps drowning

[luvergirl-866]

that’s so true

word count - 8.3k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - language, toxic p/toxic relationship (situationship) (kinda toxic a too)? i guess you could call it angst? but it’s very unserious bc i’ve been doing too much serious stuff. fluff and happy ending. very dialogue heavy

a/n - i don’t usually like to incorporate music into my fics but the anon who gave this prompt specifically recommended it so i hope i did it justice! also, this takes place azzi’s freshman year so like 2021/2022, and i know this song didn’t exist then but this is fiction so i can do what i want 😛. hope yall enjoy!!!

They only have five minutes before they’re supposed to leave with everybody else to Ted’s. Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige Bueckers is very hot and also very much on top of her, and both of these things coincide to create quite the predicament: they can’t stop kissing.

It’s normal for them, lately. Kissing is easier than talking, considering talking has gotten harder since they started—whatever this is. Or maybe restarted is a better word, considering they did this same thing in high school. But back then, the kissing was a little clumsier, often fast and desperate, whereas now they’re older, mature (yeah, right) and they take their time with these things, often just making out for hours before they move on to other things, relishing in not having to worry about either of their parents or siblings barging in on them like they used to.

There’s also another difference—back then, they were dating. Like, introducing each other as their girlfriends, going on dates, holding-hands-in-public dating.

That’s different because today—and for the past six months—they’ve been decidedly not dating.

“We don’t need distractions,” Paige had said after they’d fucked, only a month after Azzi came to UConn. (They had both agreed to stay just friends—best friends—but nothing more. But then they had to live in the same building and watch each other get all hot and sweaty at practice and see each other in skimpy pajamas and who were they to blame, really, when they fucked in that club bathroom one heated but sober night? They had spent a year broken up, a year of being long-distance besties, FaceTiming and texting and posting each other on socials with captions like “happy birthday i miss you” and “come see me”. It honestly would’ve been wrong for them to not fuck.)

“Mm—Paige, wait,” Azzi whispers when they finally separate for air.

“What’s up,” Paige says, eyes roving over every inch of Azzi’s face. Her voice is a little raspy from lack of use and it does things to Azzi’s tummy.

“I—you don’t—we need to go,” Azzi urges, pushing at Paige’s shoulders. Paige, of course, just smiles at that, pressing her knee up in between Azzi’s legs. It’s really not her fault when she gasps a little.

Paige chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then between her eyebrows. “Do we?” she mumbles, pecking the tip of Azzi’s nose and the corner of her mouth. “Like, do we really?”

“Yes, Paige, we do.” Azzi moves one of her hands down to Paige’s occupied thigh, trying desperately to separate the toned muscle from her aching core. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Definitely not as much fun as this is.”

“Well, we can continue later, when we get home.” That gets Paige to move her knee back, offering Azzi both relief and leaving an ache between her legs. She does her best to flash a sultry smile. “It’s a weekend. We can stay up all night if we want.”

Paige looks at her skeptically. “I thought you were stayin’ sober?”

Azzi moves her head back and forth. “Might not.”

“For real?”

“Uh-huh.” Azzi winds her arms around Paige’s shoulders, then scratches a little roughly down the length of her back, something Paige has always been into. It works, Paige’s jaw dropping just enough to show the pink of her tongue. “I want it, too, P. We just can’t ditch the team again. I think they already suspect us.”

“What?” Paige makes a face and scoffs. “Nah, we’re sneaky.”

“You called me babe in front of everyone at practice.”

“That’s a friend thing.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips, as if to prove just how friendly they are.

“Nika saw you basically groping me the other day, too.”

“I never did that.”

“My apartment, the kitchen. Movie night. I was making popcorn and you came up behind me and grabbed my tits.”

“Hm. Don’t remember that.”

“You said ‘I wanna fuck you from behind right now,’ and poor Nika walked in and stared at us and said, ‘This doesn’t look like you’re making popcorn’.”

Paige groans, dropping her head into Azzi’s shoulder and effectively laying the entire length of her body on Azzi’s. “I did wanna fuck you from behind. You were wearing those jeans…”

“Paige!”

“Okay, whatever.” Paige is a little muffled now, buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Her breath tingles, sending hot shivers up the length of her arm. “I do that to everyone, Nika won’t think anything of it.”

“Oh, really,” Azzi says, tone dropping into something utterly unamused, and Paige’s head pops up when she hears it. “So you say things like that to every bitch?”

Paige’s eyes widen. “No!” she grapples for something to say, and Azzi just raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t—I meant—I just didn’t wanna admit you’re right, I wasn’t—baby.” Paige juts out her bottom lip. It kinda works. “You know I wasn’t thinkin’.”

This is another interesting thing about their current situation: because they’re not dating, they’ve never discussed where they stand in terms of other people. Sure, at the very beginning, they agreed since it was just casual sex, there was no reason for them to be exclusive. They didn’t want to get anywhere near that line of the all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school, and they figured seeing other people—or at least having the option to do so—would steer them clear of that. And it worked for about…two seconds.

But then somewhere down the line things got a little blurry and slowly but surely Azzi stopped thinking of them as friends with benefits and as more of a slightly complicated but also fun situationship. Because at some point they started kissing without the goal of sex or even third base, just little pecks here and there when they had a second alone. And then they started staying a little longer each time after they’d fuck—at first, they’d leave directly after. But then they would stay for some basic aftercare, and then it got to full-on snuggling, and then it got to their clothes in each other’s apartments from how often they’d stay the night with each other. And the most recent development which really cemented things for Azzi: Paige has started using pet names outside the bedroom, something she only ever did while they were girlfriends. It’s only been a few weeks since this started and Azzi was absolutely floored when Paige had picked up her phone call with a, “Hey, baby.”

And now here they are, late for yet another night out because Paige is very clearly scandalized at the mere notion of her seeing another girl—even though it’s supposed to be allowed—and Azzi has to be honest, she doesn’t love the idea, either.

“Aw, c’mon,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t reply. “Don’t be mad at me, mama.”

Azzi blinks up at her, officially not jealous and not overthinking about their complicated situation any longer. “You’re stupid,” she teases, scooting back and sitting up.

Paige follows closely, so that by the time Azzi is propped up against the headboard she’s on her lap. “You’re really stopping us?” she asks.

“We’re already late, I’m sure everybody left without us,” Azzi says, tapping Paige encouragingly on the hip, “so yes.”

Paige doesn’t yet move and doesn’t look like she’s going to until a sharp knock at the door makes both of them jolt. “Hey!” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. “Y’all cannot be taking this long to get ready.”

“I don’t…we just…” Azzi stammers as Paige scrambles off her, and they both get quickly to their feet, making as little noise as possible, “our hair wasn’t cooperating,” she says, reaching up to fix Paige’s tousled hair. “We’ll be right out!”

“You better be, we’re all waiting outside and it’s fucking cold.”

“Coming!” Azzi calls, letting Paige wipe some of her smudged lip gloss, rolling her eyes when Paige smirks at her and says, “Oh, you will be.”

She has no idea what Paige Bueckers is to her, but an annoyance will always take the top spot.

————————————————

When Azzi had claimed she’d stay sober with the other freshmen, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that she has a best friend who loves to party and who loves peer pressuring even more.

“C’mon, just a few shots,” Paige pouts, leaning in too close to her. Azzi glances around the bar, trying to see if anybody is watching them, but she can’t tell. There’s too many people.

“Nobody can hear us,” Paige assures her, placing her hands low on Azzi’s hips, pressing her into the wall of the corner they’re semi-hidden in.

Azzi swears this girl is horrible for her blood pressure. “Paige,” she hisses, removing Paige’s hands, “not here.”

“You shoulda let us stay home,” Paige says, and now that her hands are placed firmly at her sides her eyes do all the wandering for them, raking slowly down Azzi’s body and back up. “I woulda had you fucked out by now, I swear.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Azzi mumbles.

“You seem anxious, baby.” Bravely, Paige holds her again, though this time it’s at a more friendly place, higher up on her waist. Azzi tries to meet her eyes but they’re held firmly on her lips. “Fuck. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi says, as sternly as possible. She would rather like to kiss her too, but not here, not now, not when Paige is tipsy and Azzi is horrendously sober.

“Okay, I’ma go get me another dirty shirley.” Azzi swears she would marry that drink if she could. “And I’ma grab a couple shots for you while I’m at it. And then we’re gonna fuck in the bathroom.”

Azzi smacks Paige on the arm. “I’m done with public restrooms. Once was enough.”

Paige, still sober enough to have some sort of common sense, wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m still grabbing shots.” She smacks a wet kiss onto her forehead and with that, turns around to head toward the bar.

Azzi doesn’t get a second of peace before someone else is sidling up to her. Though when she looks over she sighs with relief when it’s just Caroline. “Hey, Carol.”

“You’re so lucky you have a girlfriend who’ll buy you shots,” Caroline says, looking wistfully in Paige’s direction.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Caroline side-eyes her. “Uh-huh.”

“She’s not. We broke up.”

“And then got back together.”

Azzi shoves her away before pulling her back, linking their arms together as she leads them towards their team’s section of seats. “Nope. We’re still exes.”

“Exes who are romantically involved.”

“Carol,” Azzi groans, urging her to shut up as they approach the rest of the girls. “We’re just friends.”

It used to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying to her closest friend, the one whose shoulder she cried on when she and Paige broke up. But after six months of doing it, she’s used to it. And it’s not like Caroline believes her, anyway.

“Okay,” Caroline says skeptically. “So if the guy that’s been looking at you since we got here asked for your number, you’d give it to him?”

They’re at the team’s booth now, and Amari perks up at the mention of the slightest possibility of drama. “What guy?”

“I haven’t noticed a guy,” Azzi says, which is the truth. As it usually goes, she’s only had eyes for Paige tonight.

“Over there,” Carol says, leaning against the table and gesturing subtly across the bar. “Muscle shirt.”

“Immediately no,” Azzi replies, not even looking for him in the group of guys across the room. But he must be actively searching her out because just as she’s about to look away she catches his eye, and even though she immediately looks away, she can still see him grin out of the corner of her eye.

“Uh-oh,” Amari mutters. “You engaged him.”

“Don’t make eye contact,” Azzi says, turning away from him to face her friends. “Make yourself unapproachable.”

Caroline turns away, too, and the two of them lean over the table.

Aaliyah looks up from the conversation she was having. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Hiding,” Azzi hisses.

Amari peeks around Azzi’s shoulder, then settles back in her seat. “He’s coming over.”

“What?” Azzi wants to look at him but doesn’t, instead inching herself closer to Caroline. “Save me.”

“Who is that?” Aaliyah asks, not-so-subtly staring at the guy.

“A man about to flirt with Azzi,” Caroline says, nudging her away.

“Oh, Paige is gonna be maddd,” Aaliyah sing-songs, and they all giggle like this is funny and not absolutely awkward and stress-inducing.

Azzi glares at them. “She has no reason to be mad.” And it’s true, she kind of doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.

“Oh, yeah?” Caroline asks, glancing behind them just as Azzi feels the man come up behind her. “We’ll see about that.”

And then there’s a tap on her shoulder, and Azzi takes a deep breath before turning around with a strained smile on her face.

“Hey.” Muscle shirt is standing a little too close for comfort, which she’s sure he’ll excuse by the crowded bar but is obviously just him being weird. “You’re Azzi, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, leaning back against the table.

“I’ve seen you around,” he continues, smiling cockily, obviously very proud of himself for being brave enough to approach her. “You come here a lot, right? To Ted’s?”

Azzi shrugs, looking casually to her side in the hopes that Caroline will rescue her, but to her astonishment she has slid into the booth next to Aaliyah and is now chatting happily with the rest of the team. “I guess.”

“Noticed you weren’t with Bueckers,” he says, and she winces. Not five sentences into the conversation and he’s already brought up her current situationship. “Thought it was a good opening.” He laughs. She doesn’t.

“How so?” she asks, a little nervously.

“I mean, she obviously doesn’t want anybody coming near you.” A girl squeezes past behind him and he takes it as an excuse to inch even closer to her. Azzi presses herself further back into the table. “Can’t even look your way without her looking like she’s gonna fight someone.”

“She’s just protective,” Azzi says. As if Paige would do that for any of their friends, as if that level of pure possessiveness is normal.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You didn’t ask my name.”

God. Why are men so…gross? “My bad.” He stares at her expectantly. “Uh…so…?”

“I’m Elliot,” he says, grinning at her. That muscle shirt is really not doing good things for him. “You want me to buy you a drink?”

“Um, actually—“

“She’s good.”

Azzi’s shoulders sag at the mere sound of Paige’s voice. She can’t help but smile when Paige approaches them, moving roughly past Elliot to sidle up next to her. She hands her two brightly colored shots before slinging an arm around her, firmly ignoring Elliot. “Gotchu these. Lemme know if you don’t like ‘em.”

Azzi nods, and usually she’d shy away from the physical contact, especially right in front of their friends, but now she leans into it, safe under Paige’s arm. “Thanks.”

“Sorry I took so long.” As if sensing her discomfort—which she probably can—she rubs her thumb soothingly over her shoulder. “They’re super busy up there. You okay?”

Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Elliot interrupts her. “She’s fine, dude. We’re just talking.”

Paige looks at him. “Aight. Well, you can be done talking now.”

Their teammates have gone mostly quiet behind them, and Azzi rolls her eyes when she hears them snickering.

Elliot scoffs, but he’s skinny and a little shorter than Paige, and when her arm tightens around Azzi’s shoulder he puts his hands up. “Damn, okay.”

Azzi breathes a sigh of relief when he’s gone. “Thank god. That was so awkward.”

“You shoulda called me,” Paige says, dropping her arm to turn around and face their teammates. “And y’all shoulda helped her out.”

The girls look up at them innocently. Amari smiles charmingly at Paige and says, “We knew you were gonna do it soon enough.”

Azzi shakes her head and downs one of the shots. It is as disgusting as it looks.

“You guys suck,” Paige says, pulling Azzi into her side once again. “Leaving my girl in the trenches like that.”

Dozens of eyebrows raise at that, and it’s then that Azzi smells the booze on Paige’s breath. She flushes, trying to pull away. “P,” she mutters.

“I know,” Paige says, holding fast to Azzi’s waist, setting her shirley on the table so she can wrap the other around her, too.

“Paige,” Azzi urges, pressed completely now into Paige’s chest and trying desperately to ignore the scrutinizing looks from her teammates. She hopes they’re all too drunk to think hard about Paige’s behavior.

“Yeah,” Paige says, her hand creeping slowly down Azzi’s back.

“Did you have another drink?” Azzi asks, trying to walk them away from the booth, but Paige keeps her feet planted.

“I might’ve had another shot.” Paige grins, and Azzi would easily admit she likes it a lot more than muscle shirt’s. “Missed you, baby.”

The girls are pretending not to eavesdrop, but they’re clearly listening, sharing furtive glances with each other. Which is just—great. Because tomorrow the girls are going to have questions and Paige will be sober enough for that to stress her out, which will in turn stress Azzi out, and there will be no saving face if she lets Paige continue on like this.

“Not now, Paige,” she hisses, trying desperately to push her back.

Paige pouts. Their faces are far too close together. “What, you wanna go back to that guy or sum’?”

Azzi knows she’s not serious, but it still annoys her, and she doesn’t feel quite as comforted in Paige’s arms anymore. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”

Paige scoffs, maybe a little more serious now. “Course you aren’t.”

Azzi blinks at her, and when Paige’s hands drop to her sides she takes a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno.” Paige gestured between them. “Just that you never wanna be around me unless we’re fu—“

Azzi’s overstimulated and irritated, but she still has enough common sense to shove Paige hard enough to shut her up. “Don’t.”

Paige watches as Azzi drinks her other shot. “What? You really don’t want anybody to know, huh? You that embarrassed or something?”

Azzi shakes her head in disbelief, stepping back towards Paige so they can at least have this conversation too quiet for anybody to hear. “Are you dumb? You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”

“Because I didn’t want my teammates thinking I was distracted!”

“Our teammates, Paige.” Azzi gives her another little shove for good measure, and then she steps away again. “You’re acting stupid. Go chill out and come back when you wanna be normal.”

“Fine. I will.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. Azzi rolls her eyes at her hot-headedness. They’re both too stubborn for their own good, but Paige is ten times worse when she’s drunk and Azzi has always been more logical. Little, senseless arguments like this never happened when they were dating—or even when they were broken up—but now that they’re at this weird in-between, they’re becoming more frequent.

Hence why they prefer to kiss instead of talk.

Azzi plops down beside Amari, grateful when nobody questions her, and feels a little better when she thinks about how good the make-up sex will be later.

—————————————

There will be no make-up sex tonight. Or ever, Azzi thinks bitterly, glaring daggers at the girl Paige is currently feeling up.

Okay, feeling up might be an overstatement. She has a hand on her arm. But Azzi knows better than anyone that for Paige, hand-on-arm action might as well be foreplay. And the girl seems to sense it, too, if her batting eyelashes and twinkling smile have anything to show for it.

“She’s just doing it to make you jealous.” Once again, it’s Caroline, sidling up next to Azzi to study the tall blonde across the bar.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” Azzi all but spits out, and Caroline smirks.

“Pretend all you want, Az. But it’s impossible to not see what’s going on with you and her.”

“There’s nothing.” Paige’s fingers trail down the length of the girl’s arm and it’s almost like Azzi can feel it, too.

“Are you guys exclusive?”

“No,” Azzi responds immediately, too tipsy to be thinking straight, and when Caroline smiles proudly to herself, she backtracks. “I mean, obviously not. We’re not anything.”

“Well, if you’re not exclusive, she’s not doing anything wrong.”

Azzi hates this bitter reminder and turns her anger onto her best friend. “Shut up, Carol.”

“You two should probably talk about not seeing other people,” Caroline says, as wise and perceptive as ever. (She is also significantly more sober than Azzi is.)

“She can see whoever she wants,” Azzi seethes, stirring the ice in her drink. “I don’t care.”

Paige’s eyes flit from the girl’s face to Azzi. And then, with a little smirk, she leans in to whisper something in her ear, blue eyes never leaving brown as the girl giggles and grabs onto her arm. She smiles, too, and Azzi takes some satisfaction in the fact the girl has no idea she’s not the one Paige is doing this for.

She’s always been good at putting up a show. And Azzi has always been her captive audience.

Not tonight, Azzi decides as she looks firmly away. It’s about time Paige learns to behave herself.

—————————————-

It’s been a long night of drinking and trying not to watch Paige attach herself to this random girl’s hip when Azzi is approached by none other than random girl herself.

She’s gorgeous up close, but Azzi can’t help but notice her brown curls and crescent dimples, the way they’re the exact same height. It nearly makes her laugh.

“Hey,” the girl says, dropping into the bar seat next to Azzi.

“Uh,” Azzi says, vey tipsy and very irate. “Hey.”

“What’s that? It looks so good,” the girl asks, pointing to her drink. Her voice is soft and kind, nothing malicious gleaming in her eyes. Azzi hates it.

“Just a mango daiquiri,” Azzi responds, kind of unable to be snarky about it with the wide-eyed way the girl is looking at her.

“Oh, fancy! I’m definitely gonna cop that.” She smiles conspiratorially at her. Azzi can’t help but smile back. Okay, now she just kind of hates herself. She’s never been one to be rude to girls she’s jealous of. Especially not harmless, sweet ones.

“It’s so good,” she’s saying before she can help it. “And they come in all different flavors so there’s like, endless possibilities.”

“Stop,” the girl gasps.

“I know!” and then they both giggle like the tipsy college students they are. This is possibly even better than hating her, because it’s almost like a smack in the face: look at me, Paige, being the bigger person. Making best friends with your target of the night. How’s that feel?

“Hey,” the girl giggles, leaning her elbows on the bar. “You’re Azzi, yeah? You play so good.”

“Thank you!” Azzi gushes, flashing her dimples as the girl does just the same. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Haven,” she replies. Even her name is nice. Azzi thinks about how Paige must’ve thought the same thing when they met a few hours ago, but she doesn’t like the thought, so she pushes it firmly away.

“Hey,” Haven says, sounding suddenly hesitant. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. About…Paige?”

Azzi’s eyes snap to where the blonde sits at the team’s booth—she always seems to know where Paige is in a room, though she never remembers tracking her movements—before she quickly looks back to Haven. “What about her?”

“Well…that,” she says.

“What?” Azzi asks, stirring her drink casually.

“The reaction you just had to me saying her name.”

Okay, so Azzi apparently does not appear as cool and collected as she thought. “Oh, that was just—I mean, she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah?” Haven asks. “Because I kinda got the impression y’all were…”

“No,” Azzi says, trying to contort her features into something like disgust. “Ew. Never.”

Haven raises her eyebrows. “Never?”

Why is everybody deciding to clock Paige and Azzi’s shit tonight? “Okay, like, maybe at one point. But it’s over.”

“Really.” She does not sound convinced at all. Glancing over at Paige, Haven leans forward, as if she’s afraid they’ll be heard. “It’s just, she keeps looking at you and you keep looking back and she was all over you earlier, so like—“

“I wouldn’t say she was all over me.”

“She totally was.” Haven’s looking at her like she’s clueless. “I just…listen, Paige invited me over tonight.” Azzi’s stomach drops. So definitely no make-up sex then. In fact, Azzi might as well pack up her vagina right now because Paige has ruined everybody else for her, too. “And I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything,” Haven continues, completely oblivious to Azzi’s internal vow of celibacy, “especially nothing messy.”

“Yeah, no, I totally get that.” Azzi sighs heavily; considering their situation is exactly what one might describe as messy, Azzi figures it’s probably the right thing to do to tell this poor girl the truth. “To be honest, we kinda are…I dunno. I mean, we fuck.”

“Okay,” Haven nods, sounding not at all surprised.

“She stays over most of the time. I stay at her’s sometimes, but she mostly stays at mine.”

“Spare toothbrushes in each other’s bathroom?”

Azzi winces. “Possibly.”

“Yeow.”

“And, like, generally, we don’t see other people. We used to, at the beginning, but not anymore. We were just talking about it today, actually. Well, not talking about it—we don’t talk about stuff. We’re not serious enough for Paige to wanna talk about stuff.” Azzi is rambling now, and Haven is hanging onto her every word, and Azzi thinks she loves making fast friends with other girls then realizes this is the exact thing that happens every time she gets drunk. Perhaps she crossed over that line awhile ago.

The two of them have their heads close together now, the rest of the bar completely shut out. “But anyway, she said something and I was like, what, you say that to all your bitches? You know, mostly joking but not.”

“Of course.”

“And she was all, no, baby, I would never ever have other bitches, don’t be mad,” Azzi says, deepening her tone in a stupid caricature of Paige’s voice.

Haven gasps. “That was today?”

“Like ten minutes before we came here.”

“And then she was all up on me tonight.” Haven glares in Paige’s direction. “Damn.”

“I know. But like, yeah, we’re not exclusive or anything so it’s fine. But it’s not, you know?”

“Oh, for sure. That’s fucked up,” Haven says haughtily. “So, wait, how long has this been going on for?”

“Uh…six months?” but no, that doesn’t feel right. “Well, I guess, like, four years? But six months.”

Haven blinks at her.

Azzi sighs. “We were super serious in high school.”

Haven nearly screams, slamming her hand on the bar. “She’s your ex?”

“Yes!” Azzi cries, and it feels so, so good for someone to understand her situation. “We were so in love and shit! And then things started feeling weird the summer before she came here—because, like, I’m a year younger than her so she was gonna be in college while I was still in high school and I—I could tell she didn’t wanna be tied down by her lame hometown girlfriend so I ended things.”

“Girl!” Haven yells.

“I had no other choiceeee,” Azzi groans. “She woulda broken up with me if I hadn’t broken up with her.”

“You’re crazy,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That girl is down bad.”

“Stop,” Azzi says, waving her off.

“She is, horrendously.” Haven gestures over to Paige. “As soon as you got to UConn she wanted to start something with you, right? And then y’all have a little tiff and she’s doing the most with another girl just to get your attention?”

“She asked you to go home with her,” Azzi points out. “That definitely wasn’t for my benefit.”

“Um, I’m sorry, have you not noticed how scary alike we look?” Haven asks, and Azzi flushes. “She was definitely gonna pretend I was you. Which I’m not down for, like, at all.”

“She’s such a dick,” Azzi says. Because she may have been in love with Paige Bueckers since high school, but yeah, she’s still kinda a dick.

“Totally,” Haven agrees. “But…

“Don’t tell me you’re about to defend her.”

“Listen!” Haven places her hands on Azzi’s shoulder. “I think her heart’s in the right place. She wants you. She’s just a little…misguided.”

Azzi shakes her head. “She was the one who said we couldn’t be serious. She said we couldn’t have ‘distractions’.”

“And you didn’t stop to think that maybe she was still insecure and hurt by the fact you broke up with her and was protecting herself from getting hurt again?”

Azzi blinks at this drunk, genius girl in front of her. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. You know what, I’m starting to think maybe you’re both a little stupid.”

Azzi shoves her. “Don’t get so cocky, you could be wrong!”

“I could,” Haven admits. “But where would that leave you? With an asshole ex-girlfriend who messes with your head for fun?”

Azzi thinks maybe, if they didn’t look so uncannily alike, she could kiss this girl. “I love you.”

“Girl, I love you more.” Haven pats her arm and leans back on her barstool. “Now take Auntie Haven’s advice and give her the silent treatment for a few days. She’ll realize her mistakes and come running back real quick.”

“What if I don’t wanna take her back?” Azzi says, already knowing it’s bullshit.

“You do. But you gotta make her work for it. And then you have to communicate with her.”

Azzi makes a face. “Didn’t I already tell you we don’t like talking?”

Haven rubs her temples. “There’s your main fucking problem, Azzi.”

It’s then that Haven’s eyes trail to something over her shoulder and before Azzi can ask there’s a large, warm, all-too-familiar ringed hand on her shoulder. “What’re you two talking about over here?”

Azzi looks first at the hand on her shoulder, then slowly up to Paige’s face. Paige raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and then Azzi looks back at Haven, meeting her eyes.

And then they laugh.

“What?” Paige nearly demands.

Azzi brushes her hand off, still giggling. “Leave us alone, Paige.”

“I just didn’t know y’all knew each other,” Paige says, and Azzi delights at how confused she sounds. “Because you two seem pretty buddy-buddy over here.”

“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely,” Haven quips. Azzi giggles.

“Never said I was.” Paige moves from behind Azzi, going to stand beside them, studying them closely. “You two are drunk as hell.”

“So are you!” Haven and Azzi both say at the same time, and tears are forming at this point. Azzi holds on to Haven’s knee to keep herself from falling off her chair.

“Aight, yeah, I’m getting you an Uber,” Paige says to Haven, before touching Azzi’s arm, “And I’ma walk you home.”

“I can get my own Uber,” Haven says haughtily, but Paige already has her phone out.

Once again, Azzi bats Paige’s hand away. “I don’t wanna go home with you.”

Paige rolls her eyes, still navigating through her phone. “I figured, Az. But we live in the same building. Just lemme walk you.”

“You’re not sober enough to walk me.”

“I’ve been drinking water for the past hour, I’m pretty much good.” Paige shuts her phone off and looks at Haven. “You car’ll be here in fifteen.”

“Wish you were pretty much good a couple hours ago,” Azzi grumbles.

Paige’s expression becomes a little less nonchalant at that. “I know, mama, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

And that almost works. But then Haven sends her a warning glare and she straightens up. “No, thanks.”

Paige’s face scrunches up like it always done when she’s shocked, and Azzi hates that it’s still the cutest thing in the world. “Whatchu mean?”

“Exactly that,” Azzi says, standing from her barstool. Her butt is sore from sitting for so long. “And I’ll walk home with the rest of the team, thanks.”

Paige splutters. Haven gives her the middle finger.

—————————————

Later, when they are walking home—stumbling, more accurately—Azzi is leaning against Aubrey when she hears familiar footfalls coming up behind them and braces herself.

“Hey, Azzi,” Paige calls, catching her arm as she catches up. “Come walk with me.”

“I wanna walk with Aubrey,” Azzi says petulantly.

Aubrey looks awkwardly between the two of them.

“Bro, just—“ Paige stops, mindful of their audience. “Let’s just talk, okay?”

“No, thanks.”

“Azzi, c’mon.”

“I’m drunk and I’m cold and I’m mad at you. Leave me alone.”

Paige looks desperately to Aubrey for help. Aubrey just shrugs and says, “What’m I supposed to do? She said what she said.”

“Thank you,” Azzi huffs.

“Man, fuck this,” Paige says. Azzi feels very satisfied when Paige falls back, leaving her alone. But her arm also tingles where Paige had caught it.

Oh, yeah. This makeup sex had better be good for the trouble she’s going through.

—————————————

It isn’t until the next day that, during a car ride with Caroline, Azzi disovers it.

The two of them have always had similar music tastes, so when an unfamiliar song comes on over the speaker, she’s a little surprised. However, as she listens to the lyrics, she finds herself even more surprised at how much they resonate with her.

I could go and read your mind

Think about your dumb face all the time

Living in your glass house I’m outside

“Hey,” she says, “what song is this?”

“That’s So True,” Caroline answers, still staring ahead at the road. “By Gracie Abrams. Why?”

Looking into big blue eyes

Did it just to hurt me, make me cry

Smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life

“Oh,” Azzi says casually, “no reason.”

——————————————

It becomes very apparent there is a reason when, over the next week, the song becomes everyone else’s problem.

So apparent, in fact, that the team actually starts to worry about her.

“What did you do to her?” Aaliyah asks as soon as Paige walks into the apartment.

“You broke her,” Amari says.

“That stupid song kept me up all night and it’s your fault,” Aubrey continues, pointing menacingly at Paige.

“I didn’t do nothing!” Paige says, backing away from her angry friends.

“You better fix it,” Amari says. “Like, now.”

“Fix what?”

Oddly, they all go quiet at this. Paige is about to ask what’s up with them when music begins blasting from somewhere in the dorm.

“That,” Aaliyah says.

Paige scrunches her nose. “Bad pop music?”

“It is not bad,” Caroline says defensively, joining them in the entryway. When she gets judgmental looks from the other girls, she sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t bad. But Azzi’s been listening to it nonstop for a week and it used to be my favorite song and now I’m sick of it.”

“We’re all sick of it,” Amari adds unhelpfully.

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Paige says, but of course she’s lying. From what she can make out the lyrics are about a break up, maybe, something to do with jealousy and anger. With the way Azzi’s been dodging her this week (calls sent straight to voicemail, texts left on read, not even a hint of eye contact when they see each other) she knows she fucked up at the party.

It’s not like them to fight—really, it’s not. They’ve gotten into more arguments this year than they have in their entire friendship. Obviously, there’s a correlation there, something major signaling that this whole friends-with-benefits thing doesn’t work for them. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the whole best-friends-who-dated-then-became-exes-then-friends-with-benefits thing that they can’t do.

But either way—fights? Like, actual fights that Paige can’t talk (or kiss) their way out of? Those are rare.

She didn’t think their argument at the bar was that big a deal. Didn’t even think her flirting with another girl would make Azzi mad. (She’d been hoping for jealousy because dysfunctional as they may be, the sex is really good and it’s even better when one of them is all riled up).

She has a sneaky feeling this all has to do with that girl at the bar. Haven. The cute one who looked a lot like Azzi and seemed super into Paige until she turned around and became best friends with none other than Azzi herself. She should’ve known that would happen. Azzi always makes friends when she gets drunk.

She just wishes this bout of silence (and celibacy) between them would end already.

“You can’t be serious,” Amari says.

Paige shrugs.

“We all know you two are fucking, Paige,” Caroline says quite bluntly.

And, okay, the sheer panic that Paige feels at this is maybe a little ridiculous.

She never wanted the team—anyone, really—to know she and Azzi were back together. Because, well, they weren’t, for one, and there’s no good way to tell your parents, “Hey, you know how I was super emo about how the love of my life broke up with me before college? Yeah, well, it’s been a year and I’m not totally over it but I fucked her in the bathroom at a club and we’re going steady—as in, fucking—now!”

But the main reason she didn’t want anybody to know is because she was—is—so afraid of having her heart broken again. And if she keeps this to herself, then she gets to act like she doesn’t care if history repeats itself. Gets to move on and not think about it and use other people as rebounds without anybody batting an eye.

But it’s been six months of them going from friends with benefits to best friends who also kiss and have sex to best friends who kiss and have sex exclusively with each other. She may have gotten a little too cocky, may have thought they were finding solid ground, and may have not put so much effort into hiding it.

But Azzi hasn’t spoken to her for a week and she doesn’t even remember what solid ground feels like anymore so yeah, the notion of her friends knowing about them when they may be on the brink of ending is a little scary.

“Okay,” Amari says tentatively when Paige stares blankly at them, “don’t freak. It’s not a big deal. We don’t care.”

“No, I—I know,” Paige stutters.

“Seriously, P, it’s cool,” Aubrey says, patting her shoulder. “Just, you know, go fix it.”

That song has played three consecutive times since this conversation started. They may be right. Paige might’ve broken her.

Might’ve broken them.

“And while you’re at it,” Caroline adds, giving her a little push in the direction of Azzi’s room, “make sure you guys are official so we don’t have to deal with this again.”

Paige tries to plant her feet to prevent her advance towards Azzi, but Aubrey rounds to her front and starts pulling at her arms while Amari pushes and then she’s directly in front of a door with a pink ‘welcome’ sign hanging off the front. As that song thuds accusingly through the door, Paige doesn’t feel very welcome.

“Okay, stop being a pussy,” Aaliyah pipes up from behind them, “and go in there. Please.”

“Make it stop,” Aubrey says. She almost sounds like she’s about to cry.

Paige stares at them, wondering if they’re really going to make her do this. But they all nod at her before disappearing down the hall so it’s just Paige in front of Azzi’s door and she could leave, could just go back home but she’d never hear the end of it from her teammates. (And she might end up hating herself if she does that, too.)

So, with a deep, steadying breath, Paige lifts her fist and knocks.

“Coming,” Azzi calls. Blessedly, the song turns off and there’s some rustling inside before the door creaks open.

Paige expects a lot of things when Azzi first sees her—anger, upset, a door slamming in her face.

What she doesn’t expect is the satisfied smile that flits across Azzi’s face before she carefully fixes her expression into something more somber.

“Uh, hey,” Paige says. “Can I—“

“Come in,” Azzi says gravely, opening the door all the way to let her through.

“Uh, aight.” Nervously, Paige walks past Azzi, a little afraid that is some sort of trap based off the strange way she’s acting. Once she’s inside and the door’s shut, she faces the younger girl, though doesn’t quite look her in the eye. “So, I just…you know, about the other night. At Ted’s.”

Azzi nods. “Go on.”

“Well, I know I started that lil argument and I feel bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was just drunk and I wanted your attention so I acted stupid.”

Azzi crosses her arms impatiently. Paige wishes she had written this down and practiced beforehand or something.

“And with that other girl—“

“Her name’s Haven,” Azzi says sharply.

Paige blinks at her, surprised. “Yeah. Her. Well—“

“She’s actually really nice. We’ve been texting.”

Paige can’t help but scoff a little at that. “What, you gonna leave me for her or sum’?”

“We look related, so no,” Azzi says, raising an eyebrow. “And if I remember right, I thought it was you asking her to come to your place that night.”

Shit. So the two of them really did talk about everything. That’s not great for her.

“I didn’t mean it,” Paige says, which is very much true—she doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Haven had agreed to come over that night, but she certainly wouldn’t have kissed her. “I just, we were arguing and I wanted to make you jealous so we could, like, kiss and make up.”

Azzi crosses the room to sit on her bed, and Paige hovers awkwardly, wondering if she should follow. She decides on staying put. “I was jealous,” Azzi says. “But it just pissed me off.”

“I know, and it was a stupid thing to do.”

“I just—I thought we weren’t really, like, seeing other people.”

Paige freezes. This is completely outside of argument-at-Ted’s territory and it seems a little more like serious-talk-about-us time. Which Paige is just not prepared for at all. She should’ve made notecards for this.

“I mean—we aren’t—but, like…” Paige trails off, and she knows it’s bad how uncertain she sounds when hurt flashes over Azzi’s expression.

“Have you? Been seeing other people,” she asks, and Paige can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, putting on a brave face, but in reality she’s terrified of the answer.

Paige rushes to reassure her. “No, Az, no. Not a—seriously, not a single person. Not since that day at the club.” Not since the day Azzi came to UConn, if she’s being a little more accurate. But Azzi doesn’t need to know that.

Again, Azzi tries to act like it doesn’t affect her. But Paige knows her far too well—far too intimately—to miss the way her features relax, her shoulders lowering just a little bit. “Me neither,” she says softly.

Paige lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding at that. “Okay.”

“So…what does that mean?” Azzi asks tentatively.

Now that Azzi seems a little less guarded, Paige takes her chance to sit beside her on the bed, though not too close. “I dunno,” she says lamely, but when she’s met with a heavily annoyed silence, she sighs and tries desperately to think something up. “I mean. We can’t really be casual and exclusive. That’s not really how that works.”

“Yeah,” Azzi says.

Paige waits for her to pick up the conversation at least a little, but she doesn’t, and Paige is forced to go on. “I don’t—I think it’s not even something I want anymore. The whole casual thing.”

It’s hard, getting the words out, like each syllable is a barrier being broken, and maybe it is. Paige looks down at her hands, fiddles with them, anything so she doesn’t have to watch Azzi’s reaction.

“Paige,” Azzi says quietly.

And when Paige catches the hesitancy in her tone—the fear—she is suddenly too desperate and maybe even too in love to keep quiet just because it’s hard. Because she can’t do this, not again. She can’t watch Azzi walk away without at least putting up a fight.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Paige blurts out before Azzi can say anything else. She looks up, stares at the wall ahead, before turning to Azzi. She tries to detect the look in her eyes and what it may mean, but can’t. “At Ted’s. And I’m sorry. I guess I just—these past six months have been so—I mean, they’ve been good, but they’ve also been super fucking confusing and kinda scary, too. It’s like I’m always on edge waiting for you to end things, so whenever we get too close to how we were—before, in high school—I back out, no matter how hard it is. No matter how good it feels to have you again.”

Azzi opens her mouth, the beginning of a word escaping, but Paige’s heart races and she stands, stopping her. “But I’m realizing that I don’t think I can do that with you. I don’t think I can be just friends with you, or friends with benefits, or even whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing. Every day since you ended things I’ve been a fucking wreck, Azzi.” And it’s true. Her freshmen year had been hard, spent sleeping with random caramel-skinned, dimpled girls to try and fill the Azzi-shaped void in her heart. And the summer after was hell, too, reconnecting with Azzi long-distance and trying to become friends again, acting like they were never anything more. And the past six months has been the worst of it all, because having Azzi but not really having her, keeping her at an arm’s length and teetering on this edge of will she do it again and when will it happen proving almost painful.

Azzi stands, too, stepping in front of her, tilting her chin just slightly up to make eye contact like she’s always had to do. “I didn’t want that, Paige,” she says, almost as if she’s pleading. “I wanted—I thought you’d have more fun if you were single. I thought you’d resent me for, like, tying you down.”

Paige looks at Azzi for a solid few seconds, trying to discern whether she’s fucking with her. And when Azzi doesn’t laugh or tell her this was all a stupid prank she turns around, pushes her hand through her hair, and then faces her again. “Are you fucking for real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says sheepishly. “I thought—I don’t know. I was also sixteen and stupid and insecure, and I just wanted to make you happy. I didn’t think about what I wanted.” She looks down at her feet. “Didn’t realize how hard it’d be.”

“Yeah, you were stupid,” Paige snaps, and when Azzi flinches, she takes a step towards her. “You really thought that I’d—what, not want you? Want to fucking break up so I could hoe around?”

“Kind of!” Azzi says, throwing her hands in the air. “Things already felt off that summer before you left—“

“Because I didn’t want to leave you!” Paige practically shouts, and she wonders briefly why they never bothered to discuss this before. “I had no idea what I was gonna do when we were so far apart, but you know what? We could have handled it. We could’ve handled a year. I wanted to handle it, if it meant we could stay together.” She takes another step closer, so they’re face-to-face now. “I thought you were bored of me or sum’, you know? I was so fucking hurt.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Azzi cries. “Obviously I wasn’t bored, Paige, or I wouldn’t have jumped your fucking bones the minute I got to school.”

“And obviously I didn’t wanna be single or I wouldn’t have let you!”

Silence washes over them, and Paige is sure she could hear a pin drop, almost as sure as she is that their teammates are thoroughly listening to this argument outside the door. But she doesn’t care. Not when she’s looking close-up at the girl she’s loved forever and seeing her for the first time in almost two years—inches apart without hidden hurt or secret regrets tucked between them.

They’re both breathing heavy, both affected by everything they’ve just said and everything that still needs to be said but it’s not a surprise that they hold each other’s gazes, both too stubborn to be the first to look away.

And when the eye contact becomes too much for Paige to bear, she decides she will not chicken out, will not let her trepidations hold her back this time. And she leans forward and kisses her.

They’ve kissed—a million times, probably. Maybe more. At this point, they’ve learned each other down to the last breath, the last hair on their heads. They know exactly where to put their hands, exactly how to tell what the other is feeling based off the way they move their lips, exactly what things to say in between kisses. But despite all that, this—this feels brand new. Gentle, and tentative, but excited, too, like they know it’s the mark of something different. Something better.

———————————-

A week later, when Paige appears at her doorstep with a nervous little smile and flowers to take her on their second-first date, Paige asks her about the ‘lame girly song’ she’d been playing on repeat. Azzi tells her the song is not, in fact, lame, and is actually really quite good. She doesn’t admit that she can’t listen to it anymore.

(And, because I know you’re all wondering—yes, the makeup sex was as good as Azzi’d hoped.)

[fiovske]

can I just say. coffee theory is stupid and completely cheapens the choice Aziraphale makes.

Aziraphale continues to say no to Metatron's offer until Metatron uses the real bait: if you take over Heaven, you can reinstate Crowley to his Angelic status. And that is what gets Aziraphale to say yes hook line and sinker — he can take Crowley with him so Crowey doesn't have to be afraid of Hell and Aziraphale can run things Do It Right as the Head of Heaven and no one would say anything to Crowley ever again if Aziraphale was on his side. Aziraphale doesn't know about the trial and the fact that Gabriel was fired for disagreeing w Heaven on the Second Armageddon front. He just thinks Gabriel was fired bc he fell in love w a demon (and Aziraphale's in love w a demon). Aziraphale strongly believes that if he can reinstate Crowley as an angel again then there would be no such objections from Heaven at all, because they would both be on the same side and they can be together and if anything ever goes wrong, both Crowley and he would be protected under Aziraphale's position as the new boss of Heaven. Plus, the way he remembers it, Crowley enjoyed making things creating things and still likes to do good deeds which he gets in trouble for if Hell finds out, but he won't if he's an angel, in Aziraphale's eyes then Crowley would be free to do all the good he liked. And because Aziraphale would be the boss, Crowley would be able to ask questions and work with him and make things better w his inquisitive perspective, something Crowley always wanted to do and Aziraphale wants to give him that also.

He doesn't know the full depth of things that Crowley knows, which is why when Crowley hears Aziraphale's offer, all he hears is that Aziraphale is choosing Heaven, after everything they have done to him, Aziraphale is leaving Crowley FOR Heaven. The way he sees it, Aziraphale wants him to change and be Heaven's definition of "Good" so they can both be in Heaven, conforming to a life Crowley left behind long ago, a life he knows Aziraphale wouldn't be happy in either. Which is the killing blow to Crowley's heart bc Aziraphale would choose THAT instead of coming away with Crowley? Devastating. But he doesn't know that Metatron's offer WAS Crowley's Angelification and hence forth security that got Aziraphale to say yes. Crowley hasn't communicated a lot to Aziraphale but Aziraphale also hasn't communicated a lot to him either and they're both on very different pages w the information they've got and what they feel they need to do to be together and be safe and happy.

Does Aziraphale make the naive choice? Yes. Does he make so in full control of his mind and senses? Also yes. Having his coffee poisoned is an incredibly cheap tactic because as a writer it's a cop out. It robs Aziraphale of not only his agency but also the reasonings behind his choice. It absolves him from the struggles and consequences of his actions and robs him of the growth and realization and epiphany he will have in the third act. It cheapens their inevitable reconciliation.

Metatron didn't hand him the coffee to poison him. He handed it to him so he can use the manipulative familiarity of "oh look i brought ur coffee order, isn't it cool how I know your coffee order isn't it nice how we are close like that?" that was the tactic. to get him to listen. Not some elaborate coffee poison.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Chat have we discussed drunk chess with cherik cause i just think. That would be the darnedest silliest thing they could do

[peacockrulz]

oooooOOOOOooooo digital circus upon ye!!!!!!!! (these characters are SO hard to draw ;;) ((Stupid-er doodles under the cut))

I love Cain I swear dsfklksldkflsdkf

[keikeichi123456]

hear me out, zosan grindr au HEAR ME OUT

sanji, after finally coming to terms with the fact that he might not be totally straight, decides to download grindr and sets up a profile with the help of nami

luffy plans a hangout with all his friends and the moment sanji walks into the room, the telltale sound of two grindr notifications goes off

the room is silent. everyone is staring at sanji. sanji wants the ground to swallow him up whole. eventually conversation starts up again but sanji still wants to die

wait a minute…two notifications went off which means…

sanjis head snaps over to where zoro’s lazily nursing a bottle of beer and checking his phone

sanji hears another notification going off and hastily pulls out his phone, attempting to silence the damn thing when he sees what the notification banner says:

Grindr

Roronoa Zoro just tapped you!

oh that fucking asshole

sanji quickly opens up the app and clicks on the offending profile and there it is in all its glory, a picture of zoro holding up a fucking fish, holy shit how cliche can one get—

Roronoa Zoro

Online Now

0 feet away

Not looking for anything serious

of course that assholes not looking for anything serious, the guy’s one true love is swords for fucks sake

Grindr

Roronoa Zoro: i didnt know u were on here

sanjis fingers fly over the keyboard, ignoring the fact that zoro was literally at yelling distance

Sanji: fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou

Roronoa Zoro: lol

Roronoa Zoro: i mean if u want

Sanji: ALSNDNWKFKCNNSKW KYSKYSKYSKYSKYSKYS DIE

Roronoa Zoro: 😂

shenanigans ensue

(too lazy to write it all out rn but basically zoros been pining after sanji for so long but is sure that it wont be going anywhere cuz that is the straightest of the straight (which he will later learn isnt true) so he uses grindr to just release some pent up energy, the reason why his bio says hes not looking for anything serious is cuz hes in love with sanji like IN LOVE IN LOVE

sanji doesnt know that and so when he starts developing feelings…that really fucks him up, he thinks zoros just using him but sanjis terrible at communication and zoros kinda dumb so

they eventually figure it out tho and finally sort their shit out)

[mikakuna]

i would genuinely love a red hood show like the harley quinn show. a feel-good, comedy series that follows jason coming back from the dead and becoming red hood, getting his crew, becoming a crime lord, interacting with the bats and the rogues- it would be so fun, i'm convinced

jason's dark humour, stupid moments between him and bruce (less angsty and more bruce being an awkward dad), cute dad-son moments between him and harvey where harvey brags about jason and jason being so over it, the other rogues being so irritated by jason because he keeps foiling their plans, harley and him bonding over how shitty joker was (he's dead), and overall jason just being super fun to watch.

because let's be honest, jason is literally the kind of anti-hero character who would be so engaging to watch as a main character in a dark comedy.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Castiel comes to Sam for advice about his crush on Dean but he obfuscates who he's talking about successfully because Sam doesn't know just how much he and Dean hang out without him.

Dean, obliquely trying to come out to Sam during a conversation about settling down: besides who would even want to date me long term. Cas is the closest thing I've had to a girlfriend in years.

Sam, casual and oblivious: I think Cas has a boyfriend.

Dean:...What????

Sam: yeah he told me about him. He's like a drummer or something, travels cross country a lot. I thought you knew? It's pretty serious, they've been together like 8 years I think?

Dean, seething with jealousy and horror: What's he like? Have you met him? What the fuck??

Sam, delighted to have more info on Cas than Dean does for once: Cas really didn't tell you? Well I guess that makes sense. I've always thought he and I share a more profound bond.

Dean: Sam.

Sam: Okay, okay. I haven't met him but from what Cas says, he's like, a real dork. Won't let anyone touch his CD collection, always brings up movie references no one has ever heard of- although it is Cas, who knows what his scale of normal movies is. He's good with kids, apparently.

Dean: sounds annoying.

Sam: ha! That's funny. I said he sounded like you, and Cas gave me a death stare. Yeah just like that one.

Dean: what does Cas want with a normie guy like that? And why didn't he tell me? There's gotta be something going on with this dude. This whole thing stinks. And - wait. Hold the phone. Cas is gay????

Sam: dude, you've met Cas, right?

Dean: shut up!!!! Keep talking. Where can I find this sonofabitch and how can we find out his intentions

Sam: well according to Cas he intends to be [cas impression] 'adorable and infuriating at the same time and succeeds on both counts'. Cas seems pretty happy with the guy, I think we should just be happy for him.

Dean, heartbroken and hiding it gruffly: yeah. I'm fucking ecststic.

[mellowwillowy]

LISTEN YOU TWO IT IS ILLEGAL TO BE SO DEMURE AND SEXY. JADE AND HIS HAIR STRAIGHTENER, FLOYB AND HIS SHOULDER. SO SCANDALIS. SO SEXY. ON WHAT BASIS????

You and your stupid bandana or whatever. You and your stupid eel hairpin. You and your stupid bed hair. You and your stupid morning face. Stupid sleep wears stupid morays I'm gonna cook you two.

Yes you guys are stupid and I'm gonna double it RRRAHHHH I'm gonna be the one to bring you guys to bed because you guys are dumbbbbbbbb (melts)

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[willowser]

not to be so disgusting and gross about gojo on the dash but i think he's such a flirty, teasing idiot that, when you show him genuine and true affection, he goes all somber and quiet.

like you come up to him after dinner and stand on your tip-toes and hug him for no reason, give him a fat kiss on the cheek for no reason, and he just — lets you. doesn't say anything, just kind of hums and lightly places his hands on your hips, so gently you might not even know they're there. you tell him, "i love you, thank you for eating with me," and he presses his mouth to the top of your head, lips squished, and says it back, but there's no jokes, no teasing remarks. he just allows himself to be weak and to bask in it, for as long as he can.

[transvampireboyfriend]

i need more Steve being a nuisance in Eddie's life.

don't get me wrong, i love the reverse, but just picture: Eddie acting all tough and in your face and Steve turning the charm up to a thousand with him, always pressing and pressing until he breaks through, until he makes Eddie snarl or fume or god forbid blush.

Steve playing up their competition, Eddie refusing to take his ideas seriously just on principle and Steve getting all up in his space when they work, saying "I told you, Munson" or "see? I was right, and you were wrong" and Eddie bares his teeth to him all mean and scary, but it doesn't scare Steve, he's all bark and no bite. Unfortunately.

Steve being overly sweet and flirty just to get on Eddie's nerves, catching Eddie staring and saying "you like what you see, Eds?" and Eddie's almost convincing with his "There's blood on your side. You should patch that up, Harrington" spitting out his name like it's a dirty word. It almost works, if only Eddie wasn't blushing so hard.

Instead Steve only grabs his chin and says "no need to worry, baby, i got it", throwing in a wink for good measure. Eddie yanks his face away and storms out, cigarette pack already out.

[smilesrobotlover]

Talon has never been afraid of things that people were typically afraid of. He never understood the fear surrounding spiders—he only found them to be pests that needed to be put outside where they belonged, and he even found some of them cute. Talon never found water frightening, the dark was no issue to him, and he found tighter spaces more cozy than anything. He was scared of monsters, but that felt more like a valid fear since they could actually kill him. But everything else he never understood the fear others had. That is, until he was swept into a different world surrounded by men looking for their respective heroes of Hyrule. Talon discovered that he was terrified of heights. He’s never had to climb anything high up—back then he would have his wife reach high places for him. Now either Malon or Ingo took care of those problems for him since they were both taller than him. But being on this adventure, he had to face heights more times than he’d like, and every time he faced them, his legs would turn into mush and he’d struggle to stand on his own. He always tried to hide it since he already felt like a burden to the other men, but he couldn’t. It was all getting worse when the men found themselves in the mountains, inching closer to cliff-sides that made Talon dizzy. Rusl picked up on Talon’s nervousness and he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t like heights?”

Talon gave him a look and let out a shaky breath. “Y-you could say that.”

Rusl smiled. “It’ll be ok, we’ll take care of you. And besides, we have Kass here in case we fall!”

The blacksmith gestured to their feathered friend who was chatting with Benji, but it didn’t make Talon feel any better. He didn’t want to put any responsibility on Kass, and he definitely didn’t want to fall in the first place. As the men walked, Talon couldn’t help but notice the cliffside getting closer to them, and he felt himself pressing up against the rocky wall more and more the closer it got. The path turned rocky and rough, and the edge was inches away from his feet. Talon turned away from the cliff, hugging the wall as he shuffled forward. This slowed him down, and the others were far ahead of him, not seeming to care that one wrong step could send them to their death. But Talon didn’t care; he didn’t bother to call for them. He was just focused on his breathing and shuffling along the wall.

“Talon.”

The farmer flinched and looked to his side where Leon was standing, watching him worriedly. “S-sorry,” Talon apologized, and Leon waved it away.

“It’s alright, we just don’t want to accidentally leave you behind. Here,” Leon offered his arm for Talon to grab onto, “you can hang onto me, but the sooner we’re off this path the better.”

Talon let out a breath and complied, not caring that it was childish to do so. Leon walked slowly, yet with confidence as Talon stumbled along. It wasn’t like the first knight to slow down for him, but Talon was grateful for it. He peeked over Leon’s shoulder to spot the others already on the other side, with Rusl watching them anxiously.

“We’re almost there,” Leon assured, and Talon nodded.

“I’m so sorry about this—“ Talon started, but Leon stopped him.

“We all have fears, it’s normal. But that’s why we have each other. We don’t have to face them alone.”

Talon smiled at Leon and they pressed onward. He didn’t know how long they were going for, but it felt like forever. But Leon still held onto him as they walked, so he continued. Sudden shouting from the others made him and Leon pause.

“What’s going on?” He heard Leon yell, but he wasn’t able to hear a response before the sound of crumbling rocks was heard. Leon gasped and he spun around, covering Talon as small rocks and dirt fell on their head. Talon felt his stomach lurch as the mountain shook, and a loud crash was heard in front of them. Leon let go of him and he cursed under his breath. Talon opened his eyes only to see the path in front of them destroyed, and the others hidden by boulders.

“Oh goddesses,” he mumbled, and Leon cupped both hands around his mouth.

“RUSL! AMMON!” He shouted, and it was silent until the two heard a faint shout back. Talon let out a sigh of relief, but was returned to his own predicament. “Well, they’re alive,” Leon muttered, turning to him.

“W-what are we gonna do? The way forward is-is broken!” Talon cried, gesturing to the broken path. Leon hummed and walked towards the edge, then he gave Talon an apologetic look.

“It’s not a far jump…”

Talon’s eyes widened.

“No.”

Leon walked towards him, his hands up defensively. “Talon, that's the only way we can reunite with the others.”

Talon shook his head, but the mountain began shaking again, and another loud crash came behind them. To his horror, the other side was destroyed, and there was shouting from his friends again, this time with the clang of metal. They were being attacked.

Leon grabbed his arm and started to pull him towards the edge. Talon pulled back, stopping him in his tracks.

“Talon, we need to go. Now!”

“B-but—but we—“

“I know you’re scared, but we must get to the others or else we’ll be crushed by rocks!” Leon turned to the gap and ran towards it, jumping towards the other side. It didn’t seem to take much effort for him, but it didn’t make Talon feel much better. “Talon please!” Leon tried again, his hand extended. “It’s going to be ok, we’re close to the end!”

Talon swallowed hard, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He had to be brave—just this once.

The farmer started to slowly move towards the edge, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he shuffled. Parts of the cliffside began to give way, and it nearly made Talon fall to his knees, but with Leon pleading for him to hurry, he continued to move forward. He reached the cliff edge and he felt himself grow nauseous as he glanced over the edge. That was a mistake.

“Come on, Talon!” Leon pressed, his hand extended. Talon paused for a moment before letting out a breath.

“J-just give me a moment—“

“You don’t have a moment! Don’t think about the cliff, just jump!”

Talon swallowed again, his whole body shaking now. He shuffled closer and closer to the edge, feeling weaker each step he took. Leon was clearly growing impatient, but he gave Talon a confident look. He could do this. He had to.

“Run and jump, Talon,” Leon said, waving his arm towards him, and the farmer nodded. He just had to trust himself. Talon took a small step back and took a deep breath, then ran to the cliffside. But as his foot hit the edge, the ground beneath him crumbled, and he yelped as he began to slide over the edge. Talon’s hands were waving wildly, and he miraculously was able to grab onto something, stopping his fall.

“TALON!” The farmer looked up to see Leon reaching out for him, a more desperate look in his eyes. “Grab on!”

Talon was growing hysterical as the only thing stopping him from plunging to his death was his grip on the rocks embedded into the rocky wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, not trusting his strength to grab onto Leon.

“Talon please!”

The farmer looked up at Leon.

“It’s going to be ok,” the first knight assured, inching closer to him. “I won’t let go, just trust yourself, and trust me.”

Talon swallowed again, and he nodded. Using all the strength he had, he began to reach for Leon. Their hands were inches away from each other, and with one last effort, Talon swung himself, and their hands clasped together. Talon smiled relieved, as did Leon.

“It’s going to be ok,” he said again, starting to pull. But Talon heard something, an arrow shooting through the air, and Leon let out a pained yell as it was buried into his back. A sudden electric shock went through both of them, and Talon yelped as he lost all strength in his grip, and he let go of Leon’s limp hand. He could do nothing but watch as Leon and the path grew smaller and smaller as he plunged to the world below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talon awoke with a jolt. He instinctively started to feel himself, checking for injuries, but he found none. He let out a loud sigh of relief, rubbing his hand against his head as everything came back to him. Was it all a nightmare? He didn’t know what else it could’ve been—he fell. Not even a tough Hylian would’ve been able to survive a fall like that. Yet… it felt so real…

Talon rested his hand on his heart and attempted to slow down his breathing. Whatever it was, he was still worked up over it; beads of sweat were beginning to drip down his forehead, and his throat hurt as though he was about to cry. He glanced over to his left and found himself in a clearing surrounded by trees, but no one else was there. He frowned and turned his head to the other side and found a shallow spring with fairies gently floating around it. Yet no sign of anyone. He sat up and flinched at a sharp pain going through his ribs. He groaned and rubbed at the area, trying to breathe in a way to not make the pain worse. Why was he hurt? What happened? Where was everyone? Talon’s questioning thoughts were interrupted when he heard movement behind him, and he spun around only for his heart to stop at the sight.

A large man was watching him from the shadows of the trees. He had long white hair that sat on his shoulders, with strange markings decorating his cheeks and forehead. But what scared Talon the most were the bright, white eyes staring back at him. The man began to move towards Talon, and the farmer began to scramble away despite his aching side.

“N-no no no! Stay away! Please!” Talon begged as the man reached him in only a few strides, but he stopped in front him.

“Be at peace, Talon. I will not harm you,” the strange man said, his hand raised in a way to calm him. Talon’s mind went blank as he stared at the large man, his eyes feeling like they were popping out of his sockets.

“D-do I—do I know you?” He stammered, fearing to anger him. The man’s expression was blank as he stared back at him, but he shook his head.

“No. But I know you.”

That certainly didn’t tell Talon anything. He looked side to side again, hoping to find one of his friends, but he remained alone with the strange man who somehow knew him. He swallowed and sat up, once again cradling his side with a wince.

“Um… Who—who are you?” Talon tried again, and the man simply kneeled in front of him, his expression continuing to remain blank. He was silent for a moment, and Talon wondered if he even heard him, but he finally spoke up.

“I am called the Fierce Deity,” he answered.

“Oh.” Well that still didn’t answer anything for Talon. But he supposed it was better than nothing. “Well… Uh… nice to meet you then. Um… Can I just call you Fierce? Or… something?”

Fierce’s expression was making Talon grow uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. Was he even a Hylian?

“You may call me whatever you like,” he said after a long moment of silence. Talon nodded, and he began to lean back, his whole body beginning to shake. He fell backwards and let out a sigh, staring at the sky. With this… Fierce Deity here… It was becoming harder and harder to explain the previous events as a dream. Fierce suddenly came into his view, and Talon’s eyes widened.

“Wh-what?”

“Are you alright?”

Talon let out another sigh, rubbing his ribs. “I–I don’t know. My ribs kinda hurt. And I’m confused. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know how you know me or what you even are. I’m just—” Talon’s voice began to shake and he rested his hand on his eyes. “I’m so confused.”

Fierce’s eyes squinted slightly and he left Talon’s view. “I can explain everything to you Talon, but first—” A twinkling sound was heard, and Fierce entered his vision again, this time with a fairy. “Let’s heal your side.”

Talon frowned, but the fairy floated towards him before he could say anything. In a blink of an eye, the fairy swirled around him, and his side suddenly stopped aching. Talon sat up, staring at his side in surprise. He always knew about the fairies’ abilities to heal, but he never experienced such a thing himself. It was incredible. He looked around him but found that the fairy disappeared. He glanced up at Fierce confused, who picked up on his confusion.

“It’s alright, the fairy only needs to return to a great fairy to rejuvenate her power,” he explained.

Talon nodded and looked down at his side, still amazed by the missing injury. Goddesses, he almost wished he could do that as well.

“It is fortunate that you fell closeby to a fairy fountain,” Fierce continued to explain, and Talon froze. Fell. So Talon did fall, so he…?

“What happened?”

Fierce turned to him and once again kneeled down. “You died.”

Talon’s mind went blank. “What?”

“You died.” He repeated, hitting Talon harder the second time.

“I… died?” Talon repeated himself, feeling his stomach sink to the ground. He died. That fall killed him. How was he alive? Did the fairies save him? Did he die when he hit the ground? His friends…

Did they all think he was dead?

Talon began to grow nauseous, and he ran his hand through his hair. “I died…”

Fierce watched him silently as Talon continued to look down on himself. There was no evidence from the fall, save for his aching ribs, but the fairy healed that away.

“Is-is it true then?” Talon asked in a quiet tone, his voice shaking uncontrollably. Fierce tilted his head which was the first emotion he’s ever seen him express. “Is it true that fairies heal you, even after death?”

Fierce was silent for a moment. “Only immediately after you die. If you die long before you can get to a fairy, then you’ll need fairy’s blood.”

Talon felt the blood drain from his face. Fairy’s blood was extremely illegal in Hyrule. In order to use blood from a fairy, it would have to be killed. To kill a divine creature sent from the goddesses themselves was an act of blasphemy. Did Fierce… kill a fairy to save him?

“You… you didn’t…” Talon started, but he felt his stomach churn, and he covered his mouth, feeling like he was about to vomit. Fierce’s eyes squinted at him, once again showing his confusion. “You didn’t—you didn’t kill a fairy did you?” Talon was able to force out.

“No, you died as soon as I reached the fountain. The fairies wasted no time in helping you.”

Talon felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders and he let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank the goddesses. I couldn’t live with myself if I was responsible for a fairy’s death.”

The corner of Fierce’s mouth was curled up in a smile, but it went away so quickly Talon thought he imagined it. “I could never harm Hylia’s creatures.”

Talon frowned. Hylia? “Right, well… Thank you for saving my life,” Talon finally said, and Fierce nodded.

“Of course. It is my desire to help Link and those he cares about.”

Talon frowned again. “So you know Link… How—How do you know him? How do you know me?”

“You are Malon’s father.”

Talon nodded slightly. “How do you know my daughter?”

“She is Link’s wife.”

“Ok… And how do you know Link?”

Fierce’s empty eyes stared at him, and Talon swallowed, wishing he could read what he was thinking.

“Link saved me from an eternal fate in Termina,” he finally answered.

It was Talon’s turn to stare. Termina. He’s heard that name before…

“Before I ever saw Link, I always believed that mortals were all the same,” Fierce began, his eyes half-closed as if he were looking down. “They are selfish, greedy, and cruel. They’ll lie to you to benefit them, they’ll steal from you, they’ll hurt you. They use you and then give nothing in return. They imprison you when you have done nothing but help them.” Fierce’s voice had a hint of anger that sent a chill up Talon’s spine. “Link taught me otherwise. When Termina was threatened with destruction, he was the only one who set out and did something about it. I watched him help countless people when it didn’t benefit him; I watched him express compassion that was lacking from other mortals, and I watched him defeat evil, and save Termina.”

Realization hit Talon. Termina. He remembered Link telling him a story about a moon falling in a land and him going back in time over and over again. He always chalked it up as a child’s imagination, but now… was it all real? Did Talon brush his previous adventures away because he didn’t believe him? Guilt crept up on Talon. It was no wonder why he stopped telling Talon his stories. Fierce picked up on his guilt and tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing I just… I think I remember Link telling me about Termina… it’s… it’s real?”

Fierce nodded. “Link understands why you don’t believe him.”

Talon was taken aback. “Oh… well…”

“Do not feel guilty for not believing him.”

“… It probably felt like he had no one to talk to though…” Talon sighed. It was no wonder why Link was always so mature and jaded for a child. If everything he told him was true… poor Link.

“He has Malon.”

He supposed that was true, but regardless, he wasn’t there for Link like he should’ve been. He wondered if he would even want to see him again after this adventure…

“You have no idea how much you mean to him,” Fierce continued when Talon remained silent. “Everything you did for him, he cannot ignore it, nor can I.”

He didn’t feel like he deserved such talk. He didn’t even know why or how the deity knew about any of it. Fierce was large and stood out from the rest of the world like a sore thumb. How did he never notice him there, watching him and his family for the past fifteen years? The thought of it all was making him grow uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject. “So… Termina… what happened after Link saved it?”

Fierce’s eyes went half closed again. “I’m not sure how he did it, but he left Termina, and he took me with him. I was doomed to remain in Termina forever, away from my Hylia. But because of him, I was able to return to her land.”

“You keep mentioning Hylia, is that a person?”

Despite having a blank expression, Fierce gave Talon a look as if he was stupid. “Hylia, the one who created your kind and Hyrule.”

Talon slowly nodded despite not understanding. He’s never heard of a Hylia who created Hyrule. He always thought it was three golden goddesses. If this Hylia created the land he called home, why hasn’t he ever heard of her?

“I could’ve left Link as soon as I was in Hyrule, but I instantly felt an emptiness where Hylia used to be. Judging by your lack of knowledge of her, I take it she no longer resides here?”

“Uh, no I guess not…”

Fierce stared long and hard at him before turning away. “I see. I was always curious since meeting Link, if Hylia’s influence on the world changed mortal’s nature. But, I suppose it makes sense that they were never influenced by the goddess herself. When Link returned to Hyrule he grew ill and didn’t have the strength to carry on. The mortals simply passed him by, which went against what Hylia believed in.”

Familiarity sparked in Talon. He remembered finding Link again in the middle of Hyrule field, burning up with a terrible fever. So Fierce was watching him the whole time. Where was he?

“You proved me wrong again, Talon. Not all mortals are selfish and greedy. Some are… good, and pure…”

“Wait, what? I proved you wrong? How?”

Fierce gave him another look. “You helped Link, and expected nothing in return.”

Talon frowned. “Is this about when I found him with a fever then? Trust me, I ain’t special for doin’ that.”

“You saved him, Talon. That’s not a small thing.”

“Oh come on! He was a sick kid in the middle of the field! Anyone would’ve helped him!”

“No. No one did.”

Talon froze. “What do ya mean no one helped him?”

“Like I said. The mortals passed him by. Link asked around Kakariko and Castle town for help, but he had no money. No one helped him.” Fierce’s voice grew angry again until his face turned to Talon fully. “You were the only one who reached out to him. He had given up at that point.”

Talon stared at him, shocked. It put everything from that time into perspective for him. Knowing Link, an eleven-year-old boy, tried to get help, but no one did? That didn’t seem possible, no one was that heartless.

“That’s how I know you. I saw the way you and Malon treated him. You may think you’re not a good person because you don’t believe him, but that does not erase all the good you’ve done for him. You restored my faith in mortals, and you saved Link. For that, I thank you.” Fierce bowed slightly. Talon felt his face flush and he turned away. He was starting to hate this praise. It almost felt wrong, especially from a deity.

“It… it really was nothin’. But… um… really I should be the one thankin’ you… for… you know… savin’ my life?”

Fierce squinted his eyes again. “You already thanked me.”

“Oh, well… It certainly doesn’t hurt to thank you again, now does it?”

Fierce stared blankly once again. “Why?”

“Well, like you said, it ain’t a small thing.”

Fierce stared for a moment, then turned away. “You mortals confuse me.”

Talon chuckled. “Well if it makes ya feel any better, mortals confuse me too.”

“But you’re a mortal.”

“Exactly.”

Though it was subtle, Talon could almost pick up an annoyed expression on Fierce’s face, and he couldn’t tell if he should laugh at it or not. They both remained silent for a while, until one more question went through Talon’s brain.

“What… are you?” He asked. Fierce looked contemplative as he looked down at his hand, and he glanced up at Talon.

“I’m not sure. I suppose I am what they call a deity. But I have no divine power unlike the others. A demon is a more appropriate thing to call me.”

Fear pricked at Talon’s chest and he turned away. “So you’re a servant to evil?”

For the first time, Fierce’s expression grew dark, and Talon leaned back. Oh no.

“I will never serve Demise,” he growled. Talon nodded, yet continuing to not understand anything he was saying.

“R-right! Well then… you’re no demon!”

“That’s what we were called in Termina.”

“Well, lucky you, this ain’t Termina.”

Fierce’s expression softened and he didn’t press any further. Talon supposed no one knew what Fierce was, but he began to feel less of a threat to him the more he talked to him. Sort of.

“You should get some rest,” Fierce finally said, standing up. “Fairies don’t rejuvenate energy.”

“Oh,” Talon looked down at himself, admittedly still feeling exhausted from before. But… “My friends will be out lookin’ for me. A-and the puppeteer too… I reckon he’s the reason I fell down the mountain.”

“I will keep watch. But you must restore your strength if you are to continue on.”

Talon sighed. The others could be in danger—Leon could be in danger, and he’d be none the wiser. But his heavy eyelids fought against him and he simply laid back, staring sadly at the sky. His mind began to run rampant over everything that happened to him, and he was struggling to calm himself down so he could rest. He died, he was resurrected, Leon was shot with an arrow, and his friends were either dead, fighting, or captured. How was he going to reunite with them? Will Kass fly down to search for him? Will they try to move down the mountain to find him? Or will they continue on, with Talon completely separated from them? Anxiety pricked at Talon; he couldn’t travel alone, even with a deity at his side. He was a farmer, not a traveler. He wouldn’t survive on his own and he wouldn’t know what to do if something happened. His heart already ached for his home and for his daughter, he didn’t feel like he could handle anymore stress. Tears pricked at his eyes and he rubbed his face, feeling a sob threatening to escape his throat. He was spiraling; no matter how much he tried to not think about his current situation, he couldn’t help but only think about it. It was all too much—this whole adventure was too much. Just as he felt himself go into panic, a soft melody suddenly filled the air. It was a gentle, rising melody that put Talon’s mind at ease. He felt his body relax and his eyes grow heavy, and a thought went through his head.

You’re going to be ok.

Talon took in a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill, but the gentle melody continued playing, and he was finally able to fall asleep.