#you know I thought that's what it was but it's good to have it confirmed

[multipleoccupancy]

In some ways he knew it was strange that they didn't get to see or know each other's families or that they were supposed to be a complete mystery to their cell members outside of missions. It was inevitable that they would all get to know each other and he thought it might have been a stronger bond if the families knew each other. However it was not his place to say or change anything and with two young agents under his charge, he wasn't going to risk them either. They would just make do with what they had and it would have to be enough. "We're a very close and maybe a little dangerous family." He chuckled, "I certainly know that I feel more protected with you both than I did with other agents." O-Cell was closer, much more trusting!

He chuckled along with her as they watched the other two and nodded. "I think we are lucky. Hopefully he will remember this though," That he had not only let Violet handle a crossbow but now was apparently challenging her to shoot the cans. "I think we'll all be ok." In fact he was sure of it. He gave her a small squeeze in the hug before letting her go, thinking that they were about to see the crossbow show. Surreal watching them on stage while a trap just loomed, waiting.

A drawing? Theo tilted his head at her, almost comically like a cartoon character. He had not been expecting such a suggestion but he supposed that it was not a bad one at all, something he could easily do and give away. Tickled though, he chuckled and nodded for the suggestion. "Alright, you're on," he confirmed.

"A trap would be cool," he agreed and cast a look over the trap she had designed and made for them already. "If you win... what do you want me to draw for you?" He asked after a moment, thinking on what to do. "How about I draw you?" He suggested, "properly I promise, no stick figure." He thought his skills were good enough to manage it. Right? "You can have first shot though, we should try and hit five each?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha nodded -yes they could find a good codeword for it, and they had a little bit of time to pick one, too. So far, most of her boyfriends were not husband material, as Killian often and pointedly told her. Soon she had her own tears to fight, blinking them away as Sloane shared that he would be honored to be her children's godfather.

"I know you would protect everyone I love," she replied, her voice cracking just a little bit, "and I'm happy that you know I would do the same for you." She had never met his family, but it didn't change a thing. She was fiercely protective of him, and by extension, of the people he held dear. It was the same thing for Killian. "We are a family," she confirmed softly.

A teary chuckle left her lips. "They really are alike, aren't they? He might not be her father in this timeline, but I have no trouble imagining that a Killian is." Sloane was right, they were already so protective of her, even through timelines. "We're lucky, you know. Now we get to see his future daughter." Because he would adopt the Violet from their timeline, she was sure of it.

"Hmmm... How about we play for a drawing?" Violet suggested, well aware that if this Theo was like her father at this age, then he wouldn't have many things to trade. Empty soda cans were hardly a fun prize though. "If I win, you draw me something. And if you win, I'll draw you something. A trap that you can build and use if you want." And this trap would never fall in Davidson's disgusting hands.

Violet had been offered a drawing from her father as a teenager, which she had sadly lost to her travels. But maybe she could manage to keep this one if she won? Shove it in her pocket so it could travel back home with her.

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to ���cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[burrowdarling]

A Magical Surprise

Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!

Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader

Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement

Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.

In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 

You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.

Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 

After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 

You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.

“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.

“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 

After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.

“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.

“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.

You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 

You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 

Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.

“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 

“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.

“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.

As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 

When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 

“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 

Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.

“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 

“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.

“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.

“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.

“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.

“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Celebratory Dinner

Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Aemond wants to try something new for your one year anniversary.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, fluff, lovestruck Aemond, oral (f. & m. receiving), 69, spanking, manhandling, rimming (f. receiving)

A/N: This is straight up porn lmao. A request by anon from last December, enjoy! 🩵

Word Count: 1800

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“What time did you say we have reservations?”

Observing your reflection, an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pin your hair back for what feels like the 50th time.

Uncooperative, it seems like your locks stubbornly refuse to wield into the style you have in mind.

Fuck it.

You throw the pin into the sink and sigh loudly, hands coming up to harshly unravel your hard work.

Before you get the chance to do more damage, Aemond appears behind you and gently places his hands over yours,

“In 30 minutes”

He leans to the side and picks up the hair pin you’d thrown into the sink.

“Let me help you”, he says softly, inspecting your hair before sliding the pin between your strands to effortlessly accomplish what you’d spent a good 10 minutes fussing over.

You roll your eyes when the cocksure smirk you’ve come to expect appears in the mirror.

“You’re insufferable”, you mumble, inspecting your hair. He had a habit of being unexplainably talented whenever he tried something out, especially tasks that required him to work with his hands. It was equally enchanting and infuriating.

“You love me”, is all he retorts. He’s still standing behind you, watching you through the mirror with an intense glint in his eye, “You look beautiful”

He ducks his head down to press a kiss to your cheek while his hands grabbing your hips. You lean back against him, smiling as you regard the pair of you in the mirror.

One year today.

When you first met Aemond, he didn’t give the best impression with his stern demeanour and one-worded answers. But as you got to know him better, you soon learned that his stoic appearance merely worked as a façade for him to hide behind. He doesn’t hide from you anymore.

“What kind of place is it? Dornish?”, you ask as Aemond places kisses down the side of your neck.

He hums in reply, lips refusing to leave your skin.

“Did your mum recommend it?”, you tease, knowing that anytime you two ventured outside of the regular rotation of restaurant Aemond deemed worthy a visit, it was by the influence of his mother.

You feel him smile against your skin, and it’s all the confirmation you need. The hands on your hips begin to caress your sides slowly as his mouth moves down to your exposed shoulder.

“So, celebratory dinner. What about the rest of the evening?”, you ponder aloud as Aemond’s attention stays on exploring your softness with his lips.

“I have a few ideas”, he murmurs, mouth coming up to nibble at your ear, “But I prefer showing you over telling you”

You feel a bolt of excitement travel through your body at the thought. He’s ridiculously skilled at rendering you a wanting mess, and the brief attention he’d offered you now had already left the apex of your thighs delightfully sticky. Maybe there’s time for a quick pre-dinner treat?

You push your ass against him, slightly wiggling your hips in provocation, hoping he’ll take the bait.

He does. Aemond traps you in the embrace of his strong arms as he roughly pulls your body against his, the hard proof of his arousal pushing against your backside.

“You want me to show you right now?”, he lowly inquires against the shell of your ear, and the sudden husky tint to his voice sends you deeper into the trenches of desire.

You grind your ass against him in reply, head rolling back to rest against his shoulder. You tilt your head slightly to the side, careful not to ruin the styling Aemond had helped you achieve.

Impatient, a state you often find yourself in around your partner, you start pulling at the form-fitted evening dress you’re wearing, visions of him taking you against the vanity unit flashing before your eyes. Even after being together for a full year, the effect he has on you is potent, if not a little worrying.

Aemond’s hands find yours as he once again restricts their movement, grabbing your wrists in one hand as the other moves down to land a smack against your still covered ass.

“We’re not celebrating our anniversary with a quick fuck in the bathroom”, he chides, voice low and still calm, “Get on the bed”

You feel giddy with excitement as you rush out of the bathroom, moving to quickly sit on the cotton-clad duvet adoring the bed.

Aemond’s right behind you. His fingers move swiftly to undo the buckle of his belt while his gaze stays trained on you. The familiar clink of metal makes your core clench in anticipation as you look up at him, now standing right in front of you. You’re determined to get him as worked up as you are; to balance out the power.

Your hands come up to assist him, grabbing the belt buckle and pulling the leather band out of the belt loop. Your expression is innocent enough, voice overly sweet as you look up at him and ask, “Can I suck you off, baby?”

Your rousing proves successful. Aemond’s jaw tightens, one eyebrow rises as the corner of his mouth slightly twitches to fight off a smirk.

“Why should you have all the fun?”, he questions as he gestures for you to move further up the bed. You comply, allowing Aemond to manoeuvre your position so it is to his liking. He places you on your side, surprising you by lifting one of your legs and laying his head down on your thigh, facing your core.

He revels in your softness for a moment, nuzzling the smooth skin of your inner thigh before pressing trailing kisses up to your centre, teeth biting into the flimsy fabric of your lace thong, moving it to the side.

He wastes no time in devouring you, diving into the apex of your thighs without restrain. The tip of his pointed nose pushes pleasure from your swollen clit out through your entire being, causing you to moan his name and arch your back, pushing yourself further into his face.

He brings a large hand up to grab the flesh of your ass, encouraging your previous movement. His tongue comes out to swipe over your bundle of nerves in confident strokes, and when you let your hips absentmindedly rock against his face, he moans unabashedly into your heat.

Eye-level with his crotch, you watch as his length strains against his trousers in neglect.

Your fingers move skillfully to undo the buttons, releasing his cock with one swift motion before indulging as quickly as your lover had, tongue collecting the pearly proof of arousal from his red tip.

Aemond moans again as you take him into the warm wetness of your mouth, letting your tongue explore the veins of his cock. His hips begin to match yours; both of your bodies moving in a slow rhythm as you give and take pleasure.

His tongue finds your entrance, slightly stretching you out as it searches for that special spot inside you that makes you see stars. Aemond finds it in seconds, erupting a choked moan from you, causing you to vibrate around him, eliciting a moan from him.

Aemond, set on having you peak before him, continues to fuck you with his tongue as the sharp point of his chin bullies your clit. Though the build up is exquisite, it is nothing compared to the peak that he suddenly pulls from you, causing the muscles of your thighs to press against the sides of his head as your walls capture his tongue like a vice.

Any attempts at pleasuring him falter as you're consumed by electric satisfaction, senses fully consumed. You selfishly throw your head back in pleasure, neglecting his aching want as you cry out your own.

Aemond’s face moves away from you as well, looking down to observe your bliss-filled features. He’s breathing heavily, face flustered pink and wetness adoring almost every bit of skin visible.

“Turn over”, he commands breathlessly, manhandling you so that you lay on your stomach before you even have a chance to oblige on your own accord.

He impatiently moves his hands over your pliant body, grabbing your ass in an instruction for you to keep it in the air.

Pleasure is still ebbing inside of you, yet you try your best to yield to his silent command, weak legs folding underneath you so that he can access your backside.

He swipes two fingers through your folds, making your body jerk slightly in overstimulation as they grace your clit before sliding inside you, finding your sweet spot instantaneously yet again.

He’s really learned every single way to give you pleasure; either as an act of love or ownership.

His fingers move slowly, clearly on a mission to steal another peak from you, while you’re still basking in the bliss of the first one. He moves towards the exposed cheek of your ass, teasingly biting the smooth flesh, soothing it with a kiss as you yelp in surprise at the sting.

“You taste so good, baby”, he praises you, “so fucking perfect for me”

You close your eyes and push your flustered face into the duvet on the bed as you feel Aemond’s tongue swipe over your ass, moving closer to the cleft, leaving teeth marks and saliva in his wake.

Your hands fist the bedding next to you as his tongue moves closer to your puckered hole, gently caressing the sensitive skin surrounding it.

His fingers persistently bully the most responsive spot inside you and paired with the slow movements of his tongue, you’re consumed by another forceful orgasm.

You cry out, voice muffled against the bed. Your walls contract rhythmically against Aemonds finger as he works you through the high, moaning loudly behind you. You’re almost certain he’s climaxed too by the sounds of his ragged breath behind you. It shouldn’t surprise you, there’s nothing he loves more than having you at his mercy.

A giggle escapes you, muffled by the duvet your face is still pressed against. You don’t have to lift your head to know that Aemond’s crooking an eyebrow at your unexpected laugh, and before he has a chance to ask, you tell him,

“I think you’ll have to fix my hair again”

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[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FIVE ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: This one lowkey took me longer than usual because I tried to make sure I represented both of their situations accurately. You'll get some resolution in this but it's definitely not going to just be rainbows and sunshine forever. Please keep up the comments and reactions!! I love reading what you guys have to say.

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The air in Aaliyah’s suite was tense, a quiet hum of anticipation hanging over the room as the team started trickling in. A few of them had already claimed spots on the couch or floor and the TV was muted, some random game playing in the background, but nobody paid it any attention.

Ice and KK walked in together, loud as always, and Caroline entered not long after, her phone still in hand, followed by Amari who looked between them all with curious eyes. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the last person Nika didn’t waste time. She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning against and addressed everyone. 

“They slept together.”

A stunned silence followed. 

“Who?” KK broke the silence first, confused without any context. Ice who was sitting next to her just smacked her on the head as it was obvious with who was missing from the room. 

Nika, confirming anyway, just said “Paige and Azzi.” Her voice was steady, but her expression reflected how serious the situation was with the two of them not talking. “Paige told me like an hour ago.” 

A chorus of reactions broke out, some shocked and others not surprised at all.

“I knew it,” Q muttered under her breath, earning an incredulous side glance from Ice.

“So why did this cause World War Two?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that be good news? Thought you were supposed to be a bundle of joy after doing the do.”

A chuckle escaped Nika as she continued, “Paige said Azzi was gone when she woke up. Like, left without a word, turned her phone off. And now they haven’t really talked since and it’s messier than it needs to be honestly.”

“Wait—what?” Ice sat up straighter. “Why the hell would Azzi do that?”

“Chill out,” Caroline interjected, her tone calm but firm. “We don’t know the full story. Don’t start judging before you do.”

The room went quiet again, but Nika’s gaze zeroed in on Caroline. Something about her reaction struck a chord.

“You know something, don’t you?” Nika’s question wasn’t accusatory, but it was sharp enough to get everyone else’s attention. “If you do, you need to tell us. We can’t help them if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Caroline hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She glanced around the room, her lips pressing into a thin line as she debated whether to speak.

Aubrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch, leaned forward. “Come on, Car. We need to know. We barely scraped by last game and Geno was pissed, it’s only going to get harder from here. If we don’t fix whatever is going on between them, it’s going to fuck up the season.”

Caroline let out a heavy breath, her internal conflict evident. Azzi was one of her closest friends, and she knew how private Azzi was, especially about something as personal as this. But the situation was already affecting the team on and off the court and it had been almost a month. 

“Alright,” Caroline said slowly, her voice low. “Yes, Azzi left and asked me to take her to the airport, and trust me, I told her how stupid it was after she told me what happened. But she said she needed to, and I didn’t push her because she looked like she was about to fall apart.” She paused, shifting uncomfortably as all eyes were on her. “I don’t really know what happened while she was gone, just that when I picked her up from the airport when she got back she was... excited. I mean, I hadn’t seen her like that in a while. I honestly don’t really know what happened after that, but something must’ve gone wrong because she was in my room crying the next day. She wouldn’t tell me anything though.”

The room was silent for a beat as everyone absorbed Caroline’s words. Then Ice leaned forward, her face reflecting she was piecing things together. “Wait, when Azzi got back that Monday?”

“Yeah,” Caroline nodded. “Why?”

Ice leaned forward her expressions showing she was slowly starting to piece things together. “Because I was in the suite when Azzi got back.”

All eyes turned to Ice as she continued. “Azzi came back to our suite. I was on the couch playing the game when she walked in. She seemed... kinda nervous but a little giddy. Like she wanted to go see Paige but wasn’t sure if she should. She was about to just walk in her room but I told her to knock knowing Paige was in there with some girl. I didn’t know they slept together when this happened though.”

“Azzi saw her?” Nika asked, breaking the silence.

Ice nodded grimly. “Yeah. Azzi looked like she was about to throw up. And when Azzi didn’t say anything Paige just…slammed the door in her face.”

“Okay,” Nika began cautiously, “so Azzi left after they—” she hesitated, glancing around, “—you know. And when she came back, she saw Paige with someone else in her room?”

“Paige definitely made herself freak out because Azzi left,” Aubrey chimed in, her voice picking up speed as she worked through it, “but Azzi is upset because Paige started sleeping around again?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Caroline said slowly. “Azzi probably thought Paige didn’t care. I mean, she comes back all excited, and then... that’s what she walks into? Of course she’d feel like she was just another hookup.”

With Caroline’s words, the puzzle finally clicked into place for the team. The fragmented bits of the story now became slightly whole. 

Ice was the first to speak, her arms crossing as she leaned back on the couch. “We just need to make them talk.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Aaliyah said, her tone cautious. “They both still seem really emotional. Forcing a conversation might just make things worse.”

“They aren’t even upset anymore,” Ice shot back quickly, shaking her head. “They both just walk around the suite like sad puppies at this point. They’re miserable, and we’re all stuck watching it. They literally just need to speak to each other, and I’m sure all of this can be solved.”

Finally, Ice shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “You know what? I’ll handle it. I live with them. When they’re both back in the suite later, I’ll make sure they talk.”

“You think that’ll work?” Aubrey asked skeptically.

“It’s better than just sitting here and doing nothing,” Ice said. “I’ll lock them in the same room if I have to.”

There was a mix of amused chuckles and wary glances around the room, but no one disagreed. If anyone could nudge Paige and Azzi toward finally talking, it was their third roommate.

…

Later that day, Azzi was in her room, the faint sound of music playing softly behind the closed door as she was reading a book. Ice was laying on the couch in the common area, idly scrolling on her phone, when she heard the door to the suite open.

Paige walked in, her steps slow, her eyes still slightly puffy from the tears she’d cried earlier. She didn’t look up as she moved toward her room, clearly hoping to slip in without being addressed.

Ice sat up fast, her voice bursting with fake excitement. “P Boogers I miss you!”

Paige paused, startled, but a small fond smile tugged at her lips as she slightly rolled her eyes. She turned to Ice, trying to match her energy, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Hi, Isuneh. I miss you too.”

She made to continue toward her room, but Ice wasn’t having it. “Hey, hey, come here,” Ice called out, patting the couch beside her.

Paige frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Ice insisted with a grin that didn’t leave room for argument.

Still puzzled, Paige hesitated before sighing and walking over. She plopped down onto the couch, sitting at the edge as she glanced sideways at Ice.

“Good,” Ice said, clapping her hands together before standing up. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Before Paige could question her further, Ice headed to Azzi’s door. She knocked twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer.

“Yes?” Azzi’s voice was a bit flat, but Ice ignored the tone, walking in and grabbing her by the arm.

“Come on,” Ice said, tugging her toward the door.

Azzi frowned, resisting. “What are you doing?”

“Family meeting,” Ice said, her grip firm.

“Family meeting?” Azzi repeated, confused.

“Yes, and you’re coming,” Ice replied, dragging her out of the room despite her protests.

A moment later, Ice reappeared in the common area, Azzi in tow. She plopped Azzi down on the couch right next to Paige, who looked at her wide-eyed.

“Ice what are you doing?” Paige asked, her voice uneasy as her gaze darted between Ice and Azzi.

Ice grinned, crossing her arms and standing in front of them. “You two are gonna talk.”

Both Paige and Azzi started to protest at the same time, but Ice cut them off with a sharp look. “Nope. No excuses. You’re fixing this. Right here. Right now.”

Paige sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Ice, we’re not just going to magically fix this because you say so.”

Azzi looked equally unimpressed, her arms folding across her chest. “For once in a while I agree with her.”

Ice rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness already, planting her hands on her hips. “Y'all are so damn stubborn. I’m not asking for magic, just a conversation. You’re still capable of that right? ”

Neither of them responded, the silence thick with unease.

“Fine,” Ice pressed, her tone firm. “Don’t talk, but you’re not leaving this couch until you do.”

Paige shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Azzi, who stubbornly avoided her gaze. After a long pause, Azzi finally sighed and muttered, “Fine. I’ll talk. But I can’t do this with you here, Ice.”

Ice arched a skeptical brow. “Oh, sure. Because the second I leave, you’ll both magically become chatty besties?”

Azzi glared at her. “I’m serious. I’m not doing this with an audience.”

Paige chimed in softly, her tone more sincere. “Ice, it’s okay. We’ll talk. I promise.”

Ice’s gaze darted between them, her arms still crossed. “You better. Because if I come back and one of you is sulking in your room, I’m locking you both in the pantry.”

Azzi gave her an exasperated look, but Paige offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll talk,” she said again.

After a long moment of hesitation, Ice finally relented. “Fine,” she said, stepping back. “But don’t make me regret trusting you two, I’ll get hell if I don’t come back with results.”

She paused before leaving, “And don’t yell at each other. You both hate it and it leads to nothing.” 

Azzi muttered under her breath, “No promises,” earning a slight scoff from Paige, who crossed her arms but said nothing. 

With that, Ice retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. 

Once Ice left the silence hung between Paige and Azzi for a while, the suite so quiet they could hear the music coming from Azzi’s room. Paige was picking at her nails absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused as she tried to keep herself from spiraling being so close to Azzi. Beside her, Azzi sat quietly, her fingers subconsciously playing with her necklace, the motion almost automatic at this point.

After what felt like an eternity, Azzi finally broke the silence, her voice soft but cutting slightly. “You don’t have to sit here and pretend you want to talk to me P. It’s fine.”

Paige immediately looked up as if she was waiting for Azzi to speak first. Confused, she says, “Huh, what are you talking about?”

Azzi sighed, clearly already frustrated. She stared at the floor, avoiding Paige’s gaze. "Nothing, Paige. Nevermind.”

But the silence didn’t last long. Azzi’s tone changed, turning a little sharper, more pointed as she finally voiced the question that had been on her mind since she came back to Storrs. "Did you even get to clean the sheets before you had somebody else in your bed?"

Paige blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly, before her initial shock turned into something else—a mix of frustration and defensiveness. She didn’t want to engage in the hurtful back-and-forth, but the words spilled out before she could stop them. “I don’t know Azzi... maybe you would know if you cared to stick around to find out.”

The room fell quiet again, the jabs leaving an uncomfortable space between them that they clearly didn’t want. Neither of them moved, neither of them said anything at first, as though they were both waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, Azzi’s voice broke through again, softer but no less pointed.

“Did it not mean anything to you Paige?” Azzi’s words were steady, almost too steady, but there was an underlying vulnerability to them.

Paige’s chest tightened, and she leaned back on the couch, rubbing her face with her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t ready for this conversation—not yet, so she played the confused card. “Did what not mean anything?” Her voice was weary, a little guarded, as she avoided looking directly at Azzi.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her tone unwavering. “You immediately started sleeping around again. It was like you finally got me to sleep with you, and then I wasn’t a second thought anymore. Just like everybody else.” 

Paige’s jaw clenched, and she looked at Azzi, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but firm.

The silence stretched between them again before Paige let out a long, shaky sigh. She leaned forward, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze softening as she met Azzi’s eyes. “You left me,” she said quietly. 

Her chest tightened as she continued, the pain in her voice unmistakable. "The morning after Halloween, you were gone. No note, no message, nothing. You just disappeared like what happened didn’t matter at all to you!" Her voice was a little too loud. 

Azzi flinched, her eyes flickering with frustration as she said “Paige, stop yelling. We haven’t even started yet and you’re already yelling.”

Paige paused her tears threatening to spill again. She exhaled sharply, biting her lip, before letting out a deep sigh. The volume of her voice softened, but the hurt was still evident. “Do you know what that fucking felt like, Az?” Her voice was lower now, still raw but controlled. “To physically lay out your heart to someone... to try to be completely fucking vulnerable, and then wake up to nothing? To have someone vanish and act like it was all nothing? Like I didn’t mean anything to them?” 

Azzi opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat. “That’s not what happened, Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now, trying to calm the tension between them.

Paige shook her head, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “That’s exactly what happened,” she countered. “You left. No explanation. Nothing. And then you came back and acted like nothing changed. Knocking on my door with this look on your face like you didn’t even care how you made me feel while you were gone.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, her own frustration building. “No, Paige! You treated me like I was just some random UConn slut you could forget about—” Her voice was sharp, echoing in the room, until Paige gave her a look that made her pause. Azzi’s face softened, and she exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, glancing away. “I didn’t mean to yell.” She looked back at Paige, her eyes dark with emotion as she continued, her voice quieter. “You just... you made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

Paige’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing. “Azzi, what are you talking about? I basically worshiped you that night” she said, her voice softer now but still filled with hurt.

She tried to explain, her voice almost shaking with emotion. “After we... After we slept together, and things got a little unclear, you just went right back to doing the same thing you always do. You slept with any girl who came your way, and I was just left there to watch, to hear it. It felt like I was nothing to you. Like I was some one-night stand you got bored with.”

“You ignored me for days, Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracked slightly, the pain evident in each word. “What was I supposed to think? Your phone was off. You didn’t send a single message telling me where you were or what was going on. You just left me hanging, and now you’re acting like it’s all on me?” Her breath came in shallow gasps as she spoke, the frustration of everything unresolved coming to a head.

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige wasn’t done. The words were spilling out now, a flood of everything she had been holding in. “I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t think, honestly. I woke up the next morning, and you were just gone. And for three days, you didn’t give me a single word. Not one thing to hold onto, or look forward to. What was I supposed to think?”

The words cut through the silence between them, each one a strike against the walls they’d been building around themselves. Azzi’s gaze flickered away for a moment, her chest rising and falling in slow, shaky breaths. She looked down, her voice small but steady as she spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I just needed time,” she said, her words full of vulnerability. “I needed time to think, to figure everything out. I didn’t know how to process what happened. I didn’t want to do anything rash.”

“How the hell was I supposed to guess that, Az?” Paige’s voice rose, her emotions spilling over. “You just vanished and didn’t think to tell me anything—not one hint of where your head was at. Was I supposed to just sit there waiting for you to come back with some grand explanation? How was I supposed to trust that you’d even come back with something?”

“Stop yelling,” Azzi said simply, her tone firm but not angry.

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back on the couch, forcing herself to lower her voice. “I’m sorry…How was I supposed to know, Az? You left me to figure it out all on my own.”

Azzi’s eyes softened with regret as she let out a shaky breath. “I thought... I thought you’d trust me, P. I thought you’d understand that I needed space. I didn’t want to hurt you by saying the wrong thing, or worse, doing something I couldn’t take back.”

Paige’s tone softened, but the hurt was still evident in her words. “It’s hard to trust someone who walked out on you. How can I trust you when you just disappeared? You don’t do that to someone after they open up to you. You don’t vanish for days and leave them wondering if they ever meant anything to you.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, frustration mingling with sadness. “I was ready to talk when I got back home. I had it all figured out,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But when I came back, you had some random girl in our suite, probably ready to fuck her. You didn’t even try to talk to me. So no, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at you after I saw that.”

The silence that followed was deafening, both of them sitting with the weight of the words they’d thrown at each other.

Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what else to do, Azzi. I didn’t know if you were coming back, if you even cared enough to try.”

Paige’s breath hitched as she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at Azzi. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “It just felt like you didn’t care and that was the only thing I could come up with.”

Azzi finally glanced at Paige, the regret and longing in her eyes almost overwhelming. She hesitated before scooting closer, slowly reaching out to take Paige’s hand in hers, their fingers lacing together. The touch was hesitant but full of unspoken meaning.

“I cared,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible, a rawness to it that Paige had never heard before. “I cared so much that it scared me. Scared me not knowing where you stood, not knowing if I even meant anything to you. And for everything I did... I’m so sorry. For leaving you when you needed me. For making you cry, for making those beautiful blue eyes of yours look so sad. I hate that I did that to you.”

She paused, her voice trembling slightly as the words continued to spill out. “I’m sorry for all the snide remarks, the times I pushed you away when you were reaching out, for making you feel like you didn’t matter, when you meant everything to me. I’m sorry for every moment I made you feel small, when you’re anything but that. I promise you I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. I just... I was scared. And in all my fear, I made it so you were the problem, when it was never you.”

Azzi took a deep breath before speaking again, her voice laced with regret as she finally began telling Paige what happened. “I got up before you. I was planning on getting breakfast for us because I knew you were going to have a hangover.” She paused, looking down at their interlaced fingers, before continuing. “But when I was getting the food, I ran into one of your hookups. The one we ran into that night we were going to eat and you told her I was your girlfriend. So I guess to antagonize me she said something that... that reminded me of how much you’ve slept around. It... it scared me, Paige. It made me think about what happened between us, and I didn’t know what that night meant to you, what I meant to you. I didn’t know if I was going to be just another one night stand.”

Paige tried to speak but Azzi continued, “I guess she saw my initial reaction and decided to keep going. She asked if you were still as aggressive as you used to be and started rambling about all the things you did to her. I just..I felt so inadequate, Paige. I’ve never done any of that. I didn’t even know how to respond.”

Paige froze, her stomach sinking at the words. “She did what?” she breathed, shocked.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper now, and she looked away. “She said it casually, as if it was no big deal. But it made me think, made me question everything. It reminded me of how much you’ve been... you know, sleeping around, and how experienced you are, and it just… kinda hit me. That I’ve never done anything like that and I’m probably a lot more inexperienced than the other girls you’ve been with.” Azzi continues kind of rambling now, “I started to wonder if it was even good for you. If I did anything wrong. You didn’t even try anything like that with me. I don’t even know if you’re into that kind of thing with me and it was just too much, so I had to take some time to think and when I came back and saw someone in the suite it just made all those feelings resurface.”

Paige’s heart clenched painfully as the weight of Azzi’s words sank in. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s jaw gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I didn’t know she said that. I didn’t even know you were... Fuck I’m so so sorry Az, I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t pull away. “It hurt, Paige,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It really hurt. And I came back I had everything ready but you were–”

Azzi stopped, biting her lip as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Instead, she took a deep breath and stood up. “Wait here,” she said softly before disappearing into her room.

Paige blinked, confused and concerned at the abruptness, her heart racing as she sat there waiting. When Azzi returned a few moments later, she was holding a crumpled up airport paper, covered in messy scribbles and arrows. 

Azzi handed it to Paige without a word, sitting back down as Paige unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she scanned the chaotic notes. “What...is this?”

“It’s a list,” Azzi said quietly. “I made it after… you know, that night. I was trying to calm myself down and prove that it wasn’t just some hookup for you, that it meant something more.”

Paige’s eyes darted over the napkin, trying to decipher the messy scrawl. Words and phrases jumped out at her. She kissed me, with an arrow towards for the second time in the corner of the napkin. Jealous at Ted’s but that one had a lot of question marks followed by she would’ve just told me which was crossed out with the words no she wouldn’t next to it. Other words Paige could clearly make out Teammates…felt too inanimate…the way she looked at me, which was underlined a few multiple times with the words think i’m delusional next to it. 

As Paige continues trying to decipher the napkin, realization dawns on her face. Her fingers slightly tighten around the paper as her chest tightens with emotion. The arrows connecting some points and scribbled-out words showed how much thought Azzi had put into it, even in her uncertainty.

“I had everything figured out,” Azzi said, her voice trembling. “I was ready to show you, to make you understand even if you weren’t ready, that it couldn’t have been just casual for you. It had to be something deeper. But then I saw her in your bed, and it all fell apart. God, Paige, I felt so stupid. Like I’d made everything up in my head.”

Paige stared at the napkin, guilt and heartbreak washing over her in waves. “Azzi…”

Azzi shook her head, looking away. “I cared so much about sleeping with you it scared me, Paige. And when I saw her, I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Paige’s eyes filled with tears as she placed the napkin on the table and cupped Azzi’s face gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said her, her voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t even know she said that. I didn’t even know you were…I wasn’t that way with you because you’re so much more than that to me Az. I never wanted you to feel like you were just another hookup. I knew it was your first time with a girl, and I just wanted to take everything slow. I wanted you to feel safe, to feel like it was okay to just feel everything and just…just be. I was trying to show you how much I cared that night, and I thought maybe... maybe that was the way to make you understand. But it wasn’t. I see that now.”

Azzi’s face softened as she absorbed Paige’s words. The tension between them seemed to ease just a little, but there was still a quiet sorrow in her eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before speaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to make you feel alone, I know how hard that is for you. I was just so caught up in my own feelings, my own fear. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I couldn’t care about how anyone else felt.”

Paige reached out, cupping Azzi’s face gently in her hands again. She felt the weight of Azzi’s pain, the vulnerability in her touch, and it broke something inside her. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I do. But you mean the world to me, Azzi. I never wanted to make you feel less than. I just wanted you to know how much I care, how much I need you.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, locking with Paige’s, and she leaned into the touch, a tear slipping down her cheek. She didn’t say anything right away, just let the silence hang between them, the weight of everything they had just shared in the air. At that moment, words didn’t seem to matter as much as the quiet connection between them.

Paige pulled Azzi into a tight, much-needed hug. She buried her face in Azzi’s hair and whispered, “I’m so sorry Azzi.” Azzi squeezed her back, the tension in her body easing with every second. “I’m sorry too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. The two of them sat in their embrace for a while, both of them making up for what they felt like was lost time. 

Ice’s door creaked open hesitantly. She hadn’t heard voices for some time, so she peeked out to check on the situation. Her eyes landed on Paige and Azzi wrapped in each other’s arms, their tears visible even from where she stood. A grin tugged at her lips as she then leaned against the wall.

“Okay thank god you figured it out,” Ice teased, crossing her arms. “I was starting to think I’d have to find a lock for the pantry. It was hard being a child of a divorced home.”

Azzi laughed through her tears, her face still pressed to Paige’s shoulder. “Shut up, Ice,” she said, her voice thick but light with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, finally pulling back just enough to wipe at Azzi’s damp cheeks. The warmth in her gaze made Azzi’s heartache in the best way.

Ice smirked, watching them for a moment longer before retreating back into her room, muttering something about how they better keep it down if there’s any more funny business around this house. Paige and Azzi exchanged a watery laugh, the tension between them finally broken.

…

Later that night, after showering and getting into her pajamas, Paige sat on her bed, the controller in her hands as she settled into her game for the first time in a while. She hadn’t felt in the mood to play in weeks, but tonight was obviously different.

Azzi walked into the room quietly, dressed in her pajamas and a bonnet. She stood by the door for a moment, hesitant, taking in the space that felt unfamiliar in this new version of them, something a little more than a friendship but not a relationship. She hadn’t been in Paige’s room like this—so casually, so unburdened—since October…since they slept together. It felt like the distance between them had changed everything, and for a second, she wasn’t sure how to exist in here.

But then she heard Paige mutter something incoherent at the game, followed by an exaggerated shout of frustration when she was killed. Azzi’s lips curled into a smile at the familiar sound. That was more like the Paige she knew. It made Azzi relax a little.

Azzi made her way over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Paige, her body a little stiff at first. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, what was ok to do and what wasn’t. But then, as she watched Paige continue to play, she cracked a joke, letting it slip out without thinking.

“Have you always been this bad, or is tonight just special?” Azzi teased, her voice light with amusement.

Paige paused the game immediately, her brow furrowing as she turned to face Azzi, an exaggerated look of disbelief on her face. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still on her phone, scrolling absentmindedly. “Eh, just stating the obvious.”

Paige crossed her arms, trying to hold back a grin. “I’m being disrespected in my own room, this is crazy.” She said, her voice a little dramatic, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, and for a moment, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to slip away. The easy banter between them returned, small but meaningful, like they hadn’t spent any time apart. Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her chest, the kind that came with knowing things were moving in the right direction.

Paige tilted her head, looking at Azzi. “You wanna play?”

Azzi looked up from her phone, her brow raising as if Paige had just asked her to solve all the world’s problems. “Me? Play? Are you crazy?” She shook her head. “I’ve never played before. And I’ve heard you, KK, and Ice yelling a little too much to know better.”

Paige shrugged, unfazed. “No big deal. You’ll like it.” She said as she tried to hand Azzi the controller.

Azzi hesitated, giving the controller a wary glance before reluctantly taking it. The second she started playing, Paige immediately realized how bad things were going to be. Within seconds, Azzi’s character on the screen was walking off of the building Paige had built, spinning in circles, and doing everything but what she was supposed to be doing.

“Azzi what the hell!” Paige burst out laughing as she watched the chaos unfold. “What are you even doing?!”

“I don’t know!” Azzi cried out, frantically mashing random buttons as her character continued to flail in every direction, shooting randomly here and there. She pushed Paige’s shoulder with a playful shove. “Shut up and help me!”

Paige tried to compose herself, still grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Okay, okay, see this button? That’s to move. And that one? That’s to aim. You’re just—” She dissolved into laughter again as Azzi’s character jumped straight towards someone shooting at her and immediately died.

Azzi groaned, pouting as she turned to Paige with a frown. “This isn’t funny! You’re supposed to be helping, not laughing at me.”

“I am helping!” Paige insisted through her giggles, her cheeks aching from how hard she was laughing. She reached over, guiding Azzi’s hands on the controller. “Look, just press this one and— no not that one!”

Azzi let out an exaggerated huff, dropping the controller onto her lap. “This is impossible. You’re a terrible teacher.”

“You’re just a terrible student,” Paige shot back, her grin widening.

At this, Azzi pouted harder, her lips pushing out in exaggerated frustration. Paige couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, come here,” she said, scooting back on the bed to make room.

Azzi gave her a skeptical look but didn’t argue, sliding into the spot Paige had just been sitting in, directly in front of the TV. Paige scooted up behind her, settling comfortably as she wrapped her arms around Azzi to guide her hands on the controller.

Azzi stiffened at first, her body going rigid against Paige’s. Paige noticed immediately, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Relax, Az,” she said, her voice gentle, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “I’m not gonna bite, Just teaching you how to play the game I swear.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh, the tension easing out of her shoulders as she leaned back into Paige. “You better not,” she murmured, her tone lighter.

As Azzi settled into Paige’s hold, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s face, which was now resting on her shoulder. Paige smirked, not even looking away from the TV. “Stop staring and focus on the game, Azzi.”

“I’m not staring,” Azzi muttered, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks warmed slightly.

“Sure you’re not,” Paige teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “This is why you’re so bad at the game—you’re too distracted by me so you aren’t listening to instructions”

Azzi scoffed. “Please, I’d be amazing if you weren’t breathing down my neck every two seconds.”

Paige chuckled, her voice low and playful. “You like it, don’t lie.”

Azzi tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips twitched as she turned her attention back to the screen. “Whatever. Just show me which button I’m supposed to press.”

“Alright, I got this,” Paige said, her fingers wrapping around Azzi’s to guide her movements. As they moved, Paige’s fingers brushed over Azzi’s, each shift in position almost feeling intentional, like she was trying to distract her more than help with the game. “See? You press this one to jump. No, not that one—this one,” Paige corrected, her hand pressing lightly on Azzi’s, guiding her thumb to the correct button.

Azzi shot Paige a playful glare, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. “Are you just playing for me now?”

Paige didn’t even try to hide her grin. “You’re a terrible student, Azzi. What do you expect?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth beneath it, the closeness between them now undeniable. She adjusted her grip on Azzi’s hands, their fingers interlacing as she continued to control the game for both of them.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly Paige took over. “You’re not even letting me play at this point. What’s the point of me being here?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around Azzi’s making sure she didn’t go anywhere, guiding them both. “You’re here to keep me entertained,” she teased. 

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to focus on the screen, but her attention kept drifting to the feel of Paige’s hand in hers, the pressure of her touch. “I think you just like controlling things,” Azzi said, her voice softer now, with a hint of something more teasing underneath.

Paige smirked, her grip remaining firm as she helped Azzi push through the game. “You know I love being in control.” 

Azzi shifted, feeling the warmth of Paige’s chest against her back as she continued to play. “You’re really trying to get me flustered, huh?” Azzi teased, though the playful tone didn’t quite match the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

Paige’s chuckle was low and soft, her lips brushing against the side of Azzi’s neck as she continued guiding her hands. “If you’re flustered, then I’m doing something right.” She let out a light laugh when Azzi flinched slightly at the touch. “But you need to focus, Az. We’re trying to win here.”

Azzi, still caught in the tangle of their touch and the warmth of Paige’s breath, let out a small, involuntary laugh. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when you’re distracting me like this.”

Paige leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Then I guess you’ll just have to try harder, huh?”

As Azzi’s thumb pressed the button under Paige’s guidance, she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse quickened under Paige’s touch. “You’re insane,” Azzi muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

Paige’s smile deepened, the playful glint in her eyes never fading as she held Azzi’s hands in hers. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi smirked, her voice light and teasing as she turned her head just enough for their faces to be dangerously close. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of challenge. Her eyes locked with Paige’s, a subtle heat building between them. “But you’re starting a game that I was always better than you at,” she added, her words dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just a little closer, her breath brushing against Paige’s skin.

Azzi’s smirk only deepened as she leaned back slightly, tilting her head just enough to make their lips almost touch. The tension in the air shifted, both of them clearly forgetting the game in favor of something else. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, sending a shiver down Paige’s spine. “I miss you, P. I’ve been replaying it in my head for weeks,” Azzi murmured, her fingers gently tracing over Paige’s fingers, the motion intentional and carrying an unmistakable double meaning.

Paige swallowed hard, her breath catching as Azzi’s words lingered in the space between them. Her heart raced, but she quickly detached herself from Azzi, leaning back and breaking the moment with a forced, lighthearted laugh. “Alright, I need to get away from Casanova here before I forget how to function,” Paige joked, trying to ease the tension as she put some space between them, though her smile betrayed her, a mix of amusement and something deeper still lingering in her eyes.

Azzi let out a soft sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly amused by Paige’s attempt to lighten the mood. Without saying another word, she grabbed her book from the bedside table and settled comfortably into Paige’s bed, leaning back against the pillows as she opened it to the page she had left off on.

Paige glanced over at her, a smile tugging at her lips as she started the game again, the sound of the controller clicking in the quiet room. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of Azzi’s relaxed posture, her head slightly tilted down as she read, and the small sense of comfort that filled the space between them was nice to have again. 

After a while, because Paige really was rusty, she finally won a round of Fortnite, she threw the controller onto the bed with a triumphant “Victory!” She turned around, expecting to see Azzi’s usual playful smirk, but instead, Azzi was fast asleep, her body sprawled across the bed. The sight of her like this—calm, peaceful, unguarded—struck something in Paige. She hadn’t seen Azzi like this in a while, and it warmed her more than she expected.

Paige smiled softly to herself, a little bittersweet. After turning everything off she carefully climbed into bed, trying not to wake Azzi, but the moment she settled in, Azzi instinctively shifted closer, snuggling into her side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige smiled again, a real, gentle smile, her heart fluttering at the simple act of them being close again.

The room was quiet for a while, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of Azzi’s breathing. Paige felt herself drifting to sleep for the first time in a while, feeling the weight of everything they’d been through slowly melting away, replaced by the comfortable warmth of having Azzi beside her again. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Azzi’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Thank you for the necklace,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. Paige’s chest tightened at the sincerity behind the words.

Paige smiled, her eyes still closed, and whispered back, her voice soft with affection. “You’re welcome.”

A small moment of silence passed between them as they both settled into the shared space of the bed. They weren’t together—not yet—but there was a quiet understanding between them. They weren’t rushing anything. They would work on it slowly but surely until they were ready. It felt like progress, even without words.

Just as they settled into a peaceful sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Ice, who had been passing by, peeked in and caught a glimpse of the two of them. She paused for a moment, watching as Paige and Azzi snuggled so naturally together. She smiled to herself, happy for them, before snapping a quick picture, closing the door and walking down the hallway to send the picture in the groupchat.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dr. Studmuffin

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: new years kiss with a stranger

Warnings: Drugs used in a medical setting, Emergency room setting, Ex-boyfriend angst, Physical injuries. Please let me know if I missed any.

You're in tears, and not just from the pain. This was supposed to be your comeback. Your personal revolution. New Year's was a time for renewal and remaking yourself. You were going to prove to everyone, especially Bryce, that you didn't need him. That you could stand proud on your own two feet.

You'd splurged on the clothes, finding ones that not only fit you like a second skin, but that made all your best features pop. You got your hair done by a professional, even adding some highlights that would match the dress and your makeup choices. Every time you looked in the mirror you knew you were killing it! This was going to be your night. Your year!

And then you tripped on your too-high heels and likely broke your ankle.

It took everyone at the party several minutes to stop laughing. You're certain Bryce is still laughing about it. No one wanted to give you a lift to the emergency room so you had to call yourself an ambulance. Thankfully the paramedics were nice enough. Especially after the pain meds kicked in and you went from uncontrollably sad to uncontrollably sad and loopy.

You hated being loopy. You just couldn't stop talking and you inevitably said too much. Doesn't matter you primarily apologized for things that weren't your fault and made it rain compliments, you still talked nonstop and would eventually be called annoying. Thankfully the redheaded nurse taking care of you didn't seem to mind every time you repeated how pretty you thought she was. She actually was pretty good at assuaging the worst of your fears.

And then he showed up.

The first time you laid eyes on the ER doctor you blurted out, "well hello, Dr. Studmuffin!" You slapped your hands over your mouth, face burning with embarrassment. Apparently he felt it too with how pink his cheeks got.

"I see Natasha wasn't exaggerating," he chuckles as he rubs on some hand sanitizer.

"I am so sorry, doctor! I know that was very disrespectful. I mean, it's not disrespectful to call you handsome, because you really are. But it's wrong time, wrong place, right? Plus, you're a doctor! You've gotta be super smart for that! So reducing you to Dr. Studmuffin just feels so inadequate. I'm---"

He raises a hand to stop you from talking. His cheeks are still blushing but his smile is, thankfully, gentle instead of condescending or egotistical. He puts on some gloves and walks to your heavily bruised ankle. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I tripped on my shoes," you explain. Tears start to form as the embarrassing memory comes back. "I tripped in front of everyone and they just laughed and didn't try to help me and I was just trying to be better! Trying to improve myself and stand on my own without my ex and then I tripped and fell, right in front of him!"

The doctor grabs some of the tissues from the table nearby and gently wipes the tears from your face.

"The notes from the paramedics say that you had to call them yourself? No one tried to help?"

You nod, a fresh flow of tears starting. "It was supposed to be my night to remake myself. My night to be...to be not me. To be bold, daring, and kiss a stranger at midnight. But instead, here I am with...Can you please tell me your name so I might stop calling you Dr. Studmuffin?"

"I'm Dr. Rogers, but you can call me Steve."

"Thank you, Steve."

"I'm gonna examine your ankle now. I need you to tell me if, when something hurts, okay?" You nod your understanding.

After several squeaks and hisses in pain with explanations as to the type of pain he tells you it's likely a minor fracture but he's going to have to get some x-rays to confirm that.

You sigh, "I was supposed to be drinking champagne and, instead, I'll greet the new year with a dose of radiation." The tears start forming again. "Maybe they were right about how much of a loser I am."

Steve's jaw clenches and he gently lifts your chin, wiping away the tears with another tissue. "Don't do that. Don't let the bullies win. If you do that, they just get worse." He sees the confusion on your face and continues, "I don't like bullies. I got bullied pretty much my whole life."

"Who'd bully a Studmuffin like you?" you blurt.

He chuckles. "I wasn't always built like this. Used to be super scrawny."

"Aww! I bet you were so cute!"

That alone would make his cheeks burn but then Natasha walks in, "Dr. Studmuffin, you're needed in room 32." He gives her a glare but she just smiles back. He sighs, knowing he's never going to hear the end of it.

"Okay, she needs some x-rays and can you make sure Mace is her Radiologist? He'll probably have the most patience for her loopy state."

"Oh, yes, please let me have someone patient!" you exclaim. "I cannot be trusted not to annoy someone right now!"

Natasha smiles at you, "don't worry. I'll make sure you're in good hands."

After Steve catches a few moments to breathe, he looks around to see if you're back from getting your ankle x-ray. He's disappointed to see you're not back yet.

"Don't worry, Dr. Studmuffin," Nat teases. "She'll be back soon enough."

Steve's face goes pink. "I just wanted to do a follow up is all."

"You know you can't lie to me," she smiles. "She's someone who was trying to pull herself together, indicating personal strength. She cooed when you told her you were a scrawny kid, indicating a lack of shallowness on her part. And, I know you saw her chart. She's a chemist, so she's likely highly intelligent. She's exactly your kind of girl."

"She doesn't actually find me attractive," Steve counters. "It's just a bit of Nightingale Syndrome."

Nat laughs uncontrollably for a minute. "Steve, that's when the medical caretaker has a thing for the patient. Not the other way around."

Steve's face goes completely red as he realizes his slip up.

"I'll make sure you're on break around midnight so you can give the lovely lady that kiss with a stranger she was looking for," Nat winks before heading off to another patient.

Your back in your room, wallowing in misery as you look at the time. So close to midnight. You know your "friends" are having a blast. Likely still laughing about you. And here you are, alone and miserable.

Dr. Studmuffin, Steve, you internally correct yourself, comes in.

As he rubs his hands with sanitizer he says, "good news. While it is a partial fracture in the bone, your tendons and ligaments are unharmed. That'll make the healing process a lot easier on you." You nod glumly and he checks his watch. "I'm actually going on break here in a little bit, just in time for midnight. I...I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to greet the New Year with me?"

Your eyes widen in shock. "You...you want me...you want to kiss me for New Year's?"

"Only if you'd like that," he's quick to assure. "Stick it to those bullies, get a kiss with a stranger, and all that?"

"Yes, please!"

He checks his watch again, "and with that, I'm on my break." He turns on the TV. It's muted but you can still see the countdown.

When the clock hits zero, he leans in for a kiss. Still loopy from the pain meds you wrap your arms around his head and pull him in for a deep kiss, catching him off guard, but making him smile.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad year for either of you.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Chapter 15 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2300

“Where are we sleeping tonight?” You asked Joel, though immediately you regretted asking. It wasn't his responsibility to figure things out for the two of you.

“Next door to each other?” He toyed with your hair as you hovered a few inches above him in the back of the truck, but you shook your head.

“No.”

Joel laughed. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“I don't know,” you admitted. “But I can't be apart from you right now.”

“Oh you can't huh?” He grinned up at you.

“No.” You smiled back and leaned down and touched your lips to his.

“My brother has a two family house. He knows my situation is fucked up. Maybe we could spend the night there.”

“Does he know about us?”

Joel shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Would it be okay with him if I was with you?”

“I don't see why not.” Joel continued to run his fingers through your hair and you closed your eyes. “Worst case scenario..” He pulled you toward him to kiss along your collarbone, “We can go camping.”

You giggled against him and bit down on your bottom lip when he kissed down your breasts and latched on to your nipple.

“I'll go anywhere with you,” you whispered, cupping the back of his head and gently grabbing a fistful of hair.

You were completely immersed in one another again. After all was said and done you almost suggested just sleeping in the truck; though Joel finally talked you into putting your clothes on and getting back in the truck.

“I'm going to call Tommy,” he explained, finally starting up the engine. “My brother.”

You nodded and began typing your message to your mom that you were out for the night. It pained you to hit send because you knew for the first time in your life, you and her were not on the same page. That was the one part of the whole ordeal that didn't feel right. Still, you knew your decisions were yours, alone. Leaving Joel wasn't an option.

“Hey,” Joel had the phone to his ear and you could hear the faint voice of Tommy on the other end. “You still have that space available on the upper floor?” He paused and nodded. “Alright.” Another paused, “Great, thank you.” Joel huffed a laugh, “I'll pick you up a thirty pack of Bud Lite.” Pause, “I'll leave it on the front step for when you get back. Thanks man. I owe ya.”

You smiled to yourself, noting it must have worked out. When Joel turned, you smiled. “We all booked?”

“We’re booked,” he confirmed, “As long as you don't mind a swing by the package store.”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

Joel grabbed your hand and kissed along your knuckles. “Good.”

Things felt right at home when you were beside Joel. Nothing mattered. You were light as air. When the two of you strolled into the liquor store to get Tommy his beer, Joel picked up a bottle of champagne and winked as the two of you checked out.

“Champagne huh?” You asked as you were securely back in the cab of his truck.

Joel nodded and linked his hand with yours. “I figured I'd get us a little something.”

Your heart was full. In fact it felt like it grew three sizes. You were so completely in love that you knew if this ever were to end it would be difficult to bounce back from. Still, you pushed the negative thoughts away. Things were good. You and Joel were on the same page in the same book.

When his truck cruised into Tommy’s driveway, Joel parked in the back behind the house near a detached garage. The house was in a suburban neighborhood, though trees surrounded the property, making it at least semi-private. In the back of the house was an outdoor staircase that led up to the second floor. That was where Joel led the two of you after leaving Tommy’s beer on the front porch.

“I have a key,” he explained, and you noted that he and his brother must have been close. Joel propped open the back door that gave way to an upper deck and the two of you made your way inside.

You glanced around the interior. The first step inside was a quaint, little kitchen that gave way to the living room. Down the short hallway, you soon discovered, were two bedrooms and a bathroom. Almost right away, Joel spoke the words you were thinking.

“I wonder if he'd let us stay here until we figured shit out.”

Yes. Yes. Yes! From the second you walked in the door you wanted that.

“Us?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Joel turned and read your face, “Us.”

You smiled wide. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“This is crazy, isn't it?”

You shook your head and leaned in, pleased when Joel met you with a needy kiss. “This doesn't feel crazy.”

“What's it feel like then?”

“Just right.” The words naturally rolled off your tongue and the two of you began to make out in the hallway. “Maybe a little crazy.”

Joel snickered against your lips. “Come on. Let's get settled in.”

You did just that, selecting the bigger of the two bedrooms to reside in before dropping off your bag of clothes. Joel found a mason jar in a cabinet, rinsed it out and put your toothbrushes in it before finally you both settled down on the couch and put a movie on.

Joel retrieved a pair of glasses and the bottle of champagne, making you wince with a giggle just before the cork popped.

“I'm not going to lie,” you admitted, “I had a feeling that was going to spray everywhere.”

Joel laughed lightly and shook his head. “I'm an expert.” He poured you each a glass and set the bottle down on the table in front of the couch.

As you held your glass out you asked, “What should we toast to?”

“To new beginnings,” he suggested.

“The beginning of..” your voice began to trail off. You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence.

“The beginning of..?” Joel held your stare and you couldn't look away from his eyes.

“Nothing,” you laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear.”

“No, say it.”

You shook your head.

“Come on.” His smile convinced you. In that moment you knew he could probably convince you to do anything.

“Ughh..” you cringed but finally manned up the courage, “To the beginning of forever.. possibly.” There we're your insecurities taking the reigns.

“Possibly?” Joel continued to own your gaze. Raised his eyebrows. “Drop that word, baby.”

You spoke with more confidence. “To the beginning of forever.”

Joel still didn't look away and tapped his glass to yours. “Cheers to that.”

Fuck. There went the next size up of your heart. You were all in - not that you weren't before. But this man, you knew for certain, had your beating heart in the palms of his hands. Maybe you held the same power. Still, it was scary, exciting and made you feel more alive than ever all at once.

You each took a sip. Your eyes stayed locked on Joel’s. His eyes remained on yours. You drank about half the small glass and then placed it down next to the bottle. When Joel was done taking his sip, you removed the glass from his hand and set it down before straddling him on the couch.

His hands dropped to your hips and your lips eagerly found his again as you snaked your arms around the back of his neck.

“I'm not kidding,” you whispered against him.

“I'm not either.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

The eye contact was pulling you in as much as his kisses and touches. Joel was intense and he pulled you in so easily.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and then added. “Please.”

Joel's plea made your body feel hot. You kissed him sensually at first. And then it became more desperate. You kissed one another every time like it would be the last time. It was hot and addicting.

Your clothes were on the floor within minutes and you took control of the moment, reaching for Joel’s hard cock as he dropped his pants to his ankles. His arms outstretched the length of the couch when you positioned him at your entrance and then lowered yourself down onto him.

Joel's head dropped back onto the top of the couch when he felt you tighten around him, but you pressed your lips to his forcing his head back up.

“Kiss me,” you echoed his words from a few minutes before. “Please.” When you rolled your hips he groaned into your mouth.

Joel's arms wrapped around you and he aided in helping you move on top of him. He growled your name in a whisper, letting his teeth graze your lower lip. It made you moan.

“Let it out,” Joel begged.

“What if he hears us-”

“Tommy’s not home.” Joel thrusted up into you and you cried out and whimpered, holding him harder. “I never want you to hold back with me.” His fingertips dug into your back and nibbled down your neck until his tongue swirled around left nipple.

“Joel..” you whined his name. When he trusted up into you harder again you whined again. And then moaned louder when he impaled you again and again.

Your legs trembled and thighs tightened around the outsides of his. You felt tears in the corners of your eyes and as you continued to ride him they fell. You whimpered again and Joel’s thumb grazed your cheek, wiping away the stray tears.

“(Y/N)..” His voice was concerned now but you kept moving on top of him.

“Don't stop,” you begged. Emotion flooded every part of you. So did a wave of pleasure. The build up was making your head spin. “I'm about to c-” The burst of pleasure halted your sentence and you cursed as your body stiffened. “Fuck.. Joel.” You grabbed him as hd steadied your hips with his hands, rocking your hips through your orgasm as you did as he asked you do. You let it out. You let it all out.

You moaned, you whimpered, you choked out his name as stars erupted behind your tightly pressed eyes you felt the flow of more tears stream down your face.

“Fuck..” you cried out, feeling a thudding pulse between your legs. At the same time a warmth filled you and knew Joel came just a few seconds after. He groaned into your neck and held your hips harder, leaving panting breaths against your neck.

You felt like you were on another planet for a moment, until Joel finally snapped you out of the daze.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Hey.. (Y/N)..”

Your eyes opened and your felt a dampness on your eyelashes. Joel looked back at you from an inch away and you laughed as you continued to sob quietly.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

You were crying. Out of the blue. In the middle of your orgasm.

“Hey..” Joel repeated, touching your cheek with one hand.

You sniffed in and took in a few deep breaths in a row. Tears fell from your eyes when they closed and you reopened them.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You nodded. “I don't know why..” you shook your head. “I'm just..” you had nothing. You didn't know what you were saying or why this sudden eruption of emotion was coming out this way. “I love you.” You laughed again and felt completely crazy as you fell apart in his lap.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you said right away with a smile. “No. I don't.. I don't know why I'm crying.” You laughed and cried. Laughed and cried.

Joel’s arms secured around your body again and he held you against him, kissing your forehead, your cheek and then the area beneath your eyes.

You let out a deep breath and dried your eyes. “I'm sorry. I just.. I'm not used to feeling like this. I'm.. I don't know.”

When Joel brushed your hair away from your face and your eyes met again you swallowed hard.

“I promise I won't hurt you,” he said.

You gave a half-smirk. “I know.”

“I love you. And I'm sorry if this is putting a strain on your relationship with your mom.”

You swallowed hard. “I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“I mean it,” you went on. “When I'm not with you I'm looking at my phone wondering when you'll call or text me me next. I think about you. I always think about you.”

“Then let's move in here,” Joel said. “Together. You and me.”

This was all so new and felt impulsive. But it also felt right. Joel wasn't even officially divorced yet. Your relationship was new. It didn't matter. You only had one word to say back.

“Yes.”

Joel could read you were certain in your response. He dried your eyes again and kissed you once chastely on the lips. “I'm feeling what you're feeling.”

“I know.”

“I'm going to be with you so much you're going to get sick of me.” He tipped up the corner of his lips in a half-grin and you smiled back. When another tear fell he wiped it away.

“I'd like to test that,” you told him. “And prove you wrong.”

“So, pending Tommy's approval,” Joel went on, “Yours going to move in with me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

Joel smiled. “Let it out.”

You laughed and said it louder. “Yes!”

“Yes?”

You shouted now. “Yes!”

@mellymbee @pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @vickie5446 @writlingerz @drewharrisonwriter @churchofjoemiller

[the-raindeer-king]

Part 1

Part 2 to teen! Ghost (reader is mentioned to being smaller than the others, but is otherwise gender neutral. minor mention of child abuse.)

This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe Ghost has a kid, and didn't know how to tell you. Maybe it's some elaborate prank, and Ghost is in his room, decompressing.

But... Price wouldn't joke around about something like this, especially not when it comes to Ghost. The looks on Soap and Gaz's face only further confirm the truth, and the pit in your stomach only widens.

It's the way this kid - Ghost, Simon, - stares at you that makes you want to throw up. You knew Ghost didn't have a good childhood, that there's no family for him to go home to anymore. But to see the haunted look of fresh trauma in this poor kid's eyes, it makes you hate the world. He's just a kid.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you give him a small smile. "Hey, kiddo. You're not in any trouble," you say, voice soft and gentle as you approach. You crouch down by the chair Simon's sitting in, making yourself smaller in an attempt to make him feel better.

It's weird, seeing just how small Ghost used to be. You've only ever know him as the brick powerhouse Lieutenant, tall and wide, the biggest man in the room. It's feels wrong, seeing him as nothing more than a scared child, barely taller than you are.

"Are you going to call my dad?" he asks, and the undertone of terror in his voice makes you want to cry. It makes you want to find whatever shithole Mr. Riley has called home and kill the old bastard with your bare hands.

Instead, you shake your head, answering softly, "No, Simon. We're not going to call your father."

He relaxes at that, shoulders sagging in relief. You could honestly cry, heart aching for this poor kid who's been dealt such a shitty hand. Somehow you don't.

"I need to ask you a couple of questions, sweetheart. I just need you to be honest with your answers, okay?" you tell him.

"O-okay," Simon agrees, glancing towards the door, where Soap and Gaz are standing. Gaz has a look on concern on his face, eyebrows pinched together and mouth downturned. Soap, on the other hand, is staring so intensely at Simon you'd think he was trying to kill him with his eyes.

While you know that's not the case, if anything he's probably trying to figure out how to help, you can see why Simon looks so nervous. Trapped in a room with four adults, three of whom are burly men, it's a miracle he hasn't had a panic attack.

"MacTavish," you call, and Soap's eyes fly to you. "Run to the mess. Bring back a water and a pudding cup, yeah? Vanilla preferably, butterscotch if they're out."

With Soap gone, Simon seems to relax a little more, his gaze returning to you. You give him another smile, and the ache in your heart eases a little when you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in response.

"Am I right to assume that you don't recognize anyone in the room?" you ask.

Simon nods his head in confirmation.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Simon's quiet for a moment, hands fidgeting together. You've never seen Ghost do that before, and you're not sure if it's a good or bad sign, but you don't call him out on it.

"Tommy and I went to bed, and... and I woke in that building, with the men with guns," Simon explains. He pauses, gesturing over to Gaz, "And then he came in and rescued me, and... then we rode in a helicopter back here."

You glance towards Gaz, who nods his head in confirmation. But that doesn't explain how Ghost suddenly became a teenager again. And if teen Simon is here, where's Ghost? All the variables make your head spin, and you need to be focused on what you can control right now.

It's Simon that brings you out of your spiraling thoughts. "Can I call my mom?" he asks meekly.

"No," Price answers, gruff and authoritative.

The sharpness in Price's tone makes Simon flinch, and you reach out to gently take Simon's hands in yours.

"You're going to have to sit tight, buddy, while we figure out how you got there. But I'll call your mom and let her know you're okay," you lie. The guilt hits immediately, but you can't bring yourself to deny him this small comfort, even if it's a lie.

"I can't talk to her?"

Simon's hands tighten around yours, when Price beats you to answer. "No. Enough questions."

[gardenwalrus]

Paul McCartney at Wings' Christmas photo shoot, 1979(?)

PaulMcCartney.com Q&A (19 December 2022):

Q: When you first released ‘Wonderful Christmastime’, did you think it was going to be a Christmas hit that would come back every year? Or does it surprise you that it’s still so popular now? Paul: I like the idea of Christmas songs purely because they only come around at Christmas! They remind us of the fun atmosphere of the whole season, and when I was writing ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ I was trying to capture that party aspect. I did hope it would keep coming back – which it has. Sometimes people will go into a shop and hear it a little too much, but I don’t care! I’m happy!

Q: We really wanted to ask you about this ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ fan theory that has gone viral on social media. The theory suggests the song is about people practising witchcraft, chanting ‘the moon is right, the spirit’s up’, and when someone walks in, they must play it cool and pretend they are ‘simply having a wonderful Christmastime!’. Is this theory true? Paul: Oh yeah. Well, thank goodness they found me out. This is completely true and in actual fact I am the head wizard of a Liverpool coven. (Paul laughs) Either that… or it’s complete nonsense. And you know it’s the latter! Q: This theory may have come from people mishearing the lyrics. Could you confirm if the lyric is ‘the moon is right’ or ‘the mood is right’? Paul: It’s ‘the mood’! This is the mood; I’ve gathered together the witches and wizards… I’ve got ‘the mood’, which is what we in wizardry call it (laughs). The thing is about this stuff, it’s so easy to convince half the people in the world. You do have to be a little bit careful! No, it’s ‘the mood’. And you know what, I’m thinking about Liverpool Christmas parties, that’s really all I’m doing with that song. “The mood is right, let’s raise a glass, the spirit’s up” – you know, all the stuff you do at Christmas. Particularly with my old Liverpool family parties. Q: You’ve spoken before about singing around the piano at parties in Liverpool, and in ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ the choir ‘sing their song’ - but do you have any memories of going carolling at Christmas? Paul: I can’t remember ever having done it, so I probably didn’t. The fun thing about Christmas carolling, that probably would have influenced my decision NOT to do it, was that my dad always used to make fun of them. He'd say, ‘Here’s a shilling to go sing in the next street’. He was not a big fan of Christmas carols. I quite like them! Q: Are there any Christmas traditions from your childhood which you have continued into adulthood, and shared with your own children and grandchildren? Paul: I have actually started some new traditions. When the kids were little, I suddenly thought there wasn’t the ideal Christmas record, in my opinion. There’s some great Christmas records like the Phil Spector one, and Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby on the old standards, but I just wanted an instrumental of all the tunes. So, I ended up recording one for the family in my studio. And Eddie Klein, my engineer at the time, helped me. I now have this album I pull out every year, and it’s a bit of fun for the kids when we’re carving the veggie roast. I’ll stick it on and it means Christmas is here. It’s quite a cute little record actually! But it’s just for the family. Q: Some fans already know this exists, it’s part of the Paul McCartney folklore! I think they’re hoping to hear it one day. Paul: I’ve often thought it’s good enough if people would like it released, and I’ve thought I could do it for charity or something, but never really felt strongly enough to make a decision. It’s just a family record, and I’ll pull it out again this Christmas. My main job is to carve the roast. That was one of the things I liked when we became veggie years ago. I said it would be nice for me to able to do what I thought of as the traditional ‘dad’ job, so that’s the carving of the turkey in the old days, and now it’s the carving of the veggie roast. I normally do that – unless someone gets in there first, and I get miffed! Steady on! So yeah, I put on the Christmas record, carve the roast, and then we do all the normal Christmas things. Christmas crackers and reading out all the terrible jokes and trying to really be happy with the little gift that comes inside, which is something you’re never going to use or keep. This is the spirit of Christmas! We mainly do all the stuff that everyone else does at Christmas time.

[mythalism]

the timing of someone apparently shitting on me for being a veilguard hater on some remote corner of tumblr is so funny because i was actually just in the shower like an hour before listening to the atonement ending suite and thinking about the things that i love about veilguard after almost 2 months of marinating on it, so apologies for destroying my reputation as a certified HATER!!!!!!! but i actually wanted to share these earlier so im still going to. i think its interesting especially because ive seen a lot of people that hate these same things about the game, but my opinion has stayed the same. its also interesting because OVERALL the more i think about veilguard the more i dislike it, but for these certain aspects, the more i think about them the more i love them.

THAT FUCKING SONG!!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!! even two months later i get choked up listening to it. and guys....... i dont listen to lost elf anymore. like i just dont even think of it. thats not to say trevor morris isnt the greatest of all time, and the atonement ending song relies heavily on lost elf. i know. but my favorite parts of the atonement song are not even lost elf!!! overall i missed trevor deeply, i did not like the veilguard soundtrack. i even turned the music volume to 0 at some points because it felt like nails on a chalkboard to me (ghilannain fight music made me want to d*e). HOWEVER. this is supposed to be positive. and if you ask me to choose lost elf vs atonement theme... im choosing atonement theme. every time. the way it adds to lost elf is wonderful. it gives me chills. it is so haunting. i will never tire of it. I LOVE THIS FUCKING SOOOOOONG. i also love the dread wolf song. so honorable mention to that one.

i love the solavellan ending. i know people hate it but nothing i have seen has convinced me to abandon my love for it. it is the best ending we could have possibly gotten in a game where the veil stayed up. and yes obviously i think the veil should have come down. but my IDEAL ending would have been veil down, rook takes over the mantle of dread wolf, solas and lavellan give up their mortal bodies and become spirits together and ascend to the fade. and honestly thats pretty much what happens, just without the veil. i love the mythological fairy tale vibe. i love the bittersweetness. i love that it is both tragic and hopeful. i love that it is vague enough to leave the future open. i love that the devs refuse to confirm where exactly in the fade they are. i love the sigyn loki eros psyche parallels. i love the maker and andraste parallels. could it have been built up to better? absolutely. but thats an issue with the build up, not the ending. i thought solas was going to die and we were going to watch the light go out of his eyes as lavellan held him and sobbed. it is so much more hopeful than i expected. i love that we get to redeem him through the power of love. i love that lavellan forgives him. i love that they survive. I LOVE IT!!!! and i love it the more i think about it. ive tried to hate it because i understand the perspective of people who didnt like it, but i literally cannot make myself dislike it.

i love the solavellan ending scene itself. i love how inky creeps in through the door. dont ask how she got up there its fine. i love how she sneaks up on him. i love that she comes up those stairs and it parallels the prologue scene with varric. i love that she has a zinger ready for him. "even if those you have wronged asked you to stop?" oh its so fucking good. i love his pathetic defeated "vhenan". i love that he rejects her again. i love that he apologizes but stays true to his goals. i love that it takes something beyond lavellan and the modern world to finally crack him. i love the way he looks at mythal like a kicked puppy. i love the way he cannot meet her eyes. i love the way he crumples and sobs and we see a completely different side of him that I NEVER FUCKING EXPECTED TO SEE IN A MILLION YEARS???? i love mythal's coldness and frankness as she releases him. i love that she doesn't apologize. i love how fucked up and messy it is. i love how it speaks to their entire relationship being fucked up and messy. i love that it has given me so much to chew on about what the fuck was going on with them. i love the way lavellan kneels so she can see his face. i love that she speaks in elvhen (even if the translation leaves something to be desired). i love that its all in the hallelujah cadence. i love that he assumes she wont come with him. i love that she has to chase after him one more time. i love his fucking tear mesh. i love his face when he looks at her. i love that their scene is wedding coded. i dont love the kiss but im trying to be positive and its tiny in the grand scheme. i love her hand on his shoulder as they step into the fade. i have a few complaints about the scene but none of them are enough to cheapen my enjoyment of it.

i fucking love fragment mythal. obviously. but seriously. i love the scene where you get her approval its one of my favorites in the entire game. i love that its hard to get her approval. i love that she fucking kills you if you piss her off. i love her lines. "after he killed the swamp witch. AND WEPT." BITCH!!!! and "you are a thousand years from knowing the correct words" or whatever. I LOVE HER. i love how fucking nasty she is. i love how she has clearly been stewing in resentment for thousands of years. i love that she is rude and proud and haughty. i love that she'd be looking down her nose at you if she wasn't like 5 ft tall. i love the way she falls backwards off the ledge with her arms out and closes her eyes to transform into a fucking dragon. i love her condescension. i love the decapitated wolf statues in the background. i love the note from felassan that reveals solas made her an entire island for herself. i love that she reveals that he put her there. i love that he could not bring himself to visit her even once. ohhhhh my god it makes me dizzy. talking to her was a moment where the game felt like dragon age to me.

i love my lavellan in this game. did i want WAY more of her? yeah. and i expected more. but every moment we got i loved. the first scene with her is mostly whatever its appropriately formal for her meeting a stranger. but the way she stutters when talking about solas? when asking rook to give him a chance by using the wolf statue to learn more about him? the way she looks down and to the side as she says it? banger. masterpiece. the act 3 conversation makes me have to lay down. i can barely even talk about it without foaming at the mouth. i love her characterization. i love that she orders rook to tell her something like she has gotten used to the power of her title as inquisitor. i love her subtle desperation to have her hope for him validated cloaked under her inquisitor mask. i love how it begins to crack as the conversation goes on and she gets lost in the memories of him. i love her sincerity. i love the way she speaks bluntly and unapologetically of her love. i love her facial expressions and her furrowed brow. i love how confident and self assured she is. "or maybe im the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so that i do not have to face my folly; that i loved someone who made such terrible mistakes. that i might love him still" IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THE ENTIRE GAME. perhaps. PERHAPS. in all of dragon age. yes im serious. its that insane to me. it feels like shakespeare wrote it. im only half kidding. i was rolling on the floor of my bedroom when i heard it. it still gives me chills. i love that her lines are in the hallelujah cadence. i love the way she talks about their relationship. i love how she is angry and indignant about his lies to her but that does not infringe upon her love. i love when she says "how could i have fallen in love with a god and not known? why didnt he tell me?' i love how sure she is that she knows the true solas. i love every word out of her mouth. i love all of it. that is my favorite scene in the game. i love when she shows up with dorian in the end. i love "is there any chance, any chance at all that he'd listen to reason?" i love her face when she says it. i love "speaking from the heart, inquisitor?" i love when dorian asks if shes heading out afterwards and she says "something like that" BE SOOOO FRRRR. SHE WAS FUCKING SCHEMING. there was not a moment that she was on screen that i did not love.

overall, i am happy with solas in this game. this one is last because its the weakest because i do criticisms but overall, i think it was fine LOL. my biggest worry was that they were going to completely woobify him and make him above reproach and erase the negative sides of him in favor of making him MORE sympathetic to new players. the fact that we got the opposite is crazy, but i vastly prefer it. id rather have him be too villainous than robbed of his complexity to be more palatable. that would have fully ruined the game for me. so the fact that we got to see him being an absolute prick little shit who betrayed us TWICE was wonderful. i loved being betrayed. i love the scene where he puts rook in the regret prison. i LOVE how he appears behind rooks shoulder in flashes and the player can see him but rook cant. i love how he circles rook like prey. i love how he does that cunty little thing with his hand over the dagger. i love that he taunts rook. i love that he doesnt actually take the dagger from them and instead waits for it to fall into his hand. its so immortal trickster god. i love that fucking scene. i love the "by my hand" line and how he looks you in the face as he manipulates his words so expertly. i love his banters with the companions. i looooooooved listening to him beef with elgar'nan. it felt so HIM. i was like YES!!!! THIS IS THE DREAD WOLF I WANTED TO MEET!!!! i was screaming during that quest. anyway. i wanted more of him. yeah. i dont really care that much that the companions and general story is weirdly unsympathetic to him. because it obviously didnt work!!! LMFAOOO 72% people still decided to redeem him so whatever! hes still pookie. im just so glad they didnt make him boring and lame. all my issues along this vein revolve more around the veil than solas, so i consider it a separate issue. i loved seeing mean nasty cunty trickster god.

ok in retrospect this list isnt that long KJHREGKJERG. however all of these things are very important to me so the fact that i love them is essential. like i truly got what i needed out of this game. i criticize it a lot but i would have done that even if the game was a 9/10 for me. i do it to literally everything i love. except fmab because its above reproach. but literally everything else. i was writing essays criticizing the percy jackson books on tumblr when i was 15. i have been criticizing dragon age online for 5+ years. veilguard aint special in catching my heat. critical analysis is in my soul. anyway i wanted banger solavellan ending that i could chew on for years and i got it. thats all i needed! ok now going to go listen to atonement ending suite again and transcend into the astral plane

[shiny-jr]

Dear author, I’m so sorry that someone plagiarised your work especially since you work so hard on your stories 💔😞

We want to help the plagiarised book get taken down so can you please share the link?

If enough people report, the fanfiction site admins will finally listen and take down the plagiarised book, instead of the plagiarism claim being buried.

I hope this issue gets resolved quickly and I hope you have a better day.

UPDATE! Based on this and that and also this.

Thank you, anon. I appreciate your words, but as I stated in one of my previous posts, Wattpad reports are finicky. I believe at this point, we're at day thirteen of dealing with this plagiarizer and day four of it being public and yet despite it all, the plagiarizer has still yet to budge.

So, I thought I'd give another update and give the information we discovered in our findings. As to what we know is copied and from who. Keep in mind, one of these four copies stories has already been taken down and done with. I'll specify which in a moment.

Before I proceed, if you happen to be one of the original writers mentioned in this post and you want your portion removed from this post for whatever reason, let me know. I do not want to upset anyone, except the plagiarizer. At this point in time, I care little for their feelings on the matter when they've had plenty of time to make things right.

The plagiarizer: Kristynaka1

FIRST.

Obviously, the first story that was discovered was mine, with all the information linked in the posts at the very top. I was made aware of this by the inbox from a kind reader. Ever since then, I've been dealing with this plagiarizer.

My mutuals and I found it weird that somehow, the plagiarizer had relatively good grammar with few mistakes in the story. Yet every little note or message they sent, had many spelling mistakes and was sometimes difficult to read. It was inconsistent and strange, and we couldn't make sense of it until we had a theory which some readers in the comments here have already suggested. We theorize that the plagiarizer began to use AI.

Of course, we can't prove this but how else would a user who can't format and type proper messages be able to write whole paragraphs that are actually legible and understandable?

ChatGPT was available to the public sometime in 2022. Before 2022, many of their "stories" were copy and pastes from Tumblr. After 2022, there were differences in the copied stories that made it harder to find the original story and connect it to the original writer. Differences in writing that I doubt the plagiarizer wrote themselves if we go by their messages like:

So yeah. Onto the evidence.

SECOND.

After a few days, one of my mutuals began to suggest searching for the origins of other stories as they doubted any of the posts belonged to the plagiarizer. Low and behold, we found three others. The first of which belonged to @monst and their post. Just by comparing the first paragraph was enough to confirm that.

I won't go into too much detail as the links pretty much say all you need when you actually look at the evidence.

THIRD.

Not even an hour later, we found the second copied story from that oneshot book. Thankfully, there were only two stories there, so there aren't any more copied parts from that series they claim is theirs. The original is @ppsycho and their post. This one again looks like a direct copy, even the image is the same.

FOURTH.

This is the one that was already deleted, thankfully. So there is not many good screenshots I can present, except one before it was gone. So the original writer is @mint-yooxgi and their post.

Here is the only screenshot I have of the wattpad version, just to showcase that it did in fact exist, and it was copied.

So yeah, that's everything for now. If you check out the plagiarizer's profile and recognize the other stories I did not name, please let me know. We thought we found one of them on Quotev, but it wasn't.

Please continue commenting discouragements and reporting the account!

I think I'll leave this off with something I typed last night in a chat:

In whatever way this ends, know that it will end badly for the plagiarizer. They can choose to ignore, but that won't make everything go away. People will remember, I will remember. If they go radio silent and try to forget everything but keep the stories up, comments will still be there. If they try to delete the comments, new comments will just be made. The comments will serve as warnings to others that might stumble across their account, and it will immediately make them click off the account or story because no one wants to read a plagiarized story. The account we see now will just be empty of real readers, so it will remain a miserable little place where each comment will serve as a reminder as to why plagiarism is bad.

Even if they do decide to delete and make another account yet again, whether they decide to copy the same stories they did before or pick entirely new writers to prey upon, it doesn't matter. Readers will either recognize them from before or new readers will notice the plagiarism taking place. It doesn't matter what they do. They will be found and dealt with in some way, shape, or form.

I hope those two or so years of small internet fame were worth it while they lasted.

[zyhkoo]

🦢 daddy issues

hurt/comfort, gn!reader, father issues

( jason wanted to protect you from your father. )

Jason was not good at comfort, it’s not something he’s used to doing. What else can he say? He can’t reassure the person it’d be just fine, he can’t fix the problem, he doesn’t know if what he's saying was right so what was he supposed to do? The best he’d do is to try and humor the situation a bit, or just educate the person he’s trying to comfort.

But there was one person he’d tolerate comforting, it was you.

You had issues with your father, he used to have some with his too, maybe a little bit now. He could empathize with your pain a bit, knowing that he experienced the same thing. It was another night, and another end of a patrol. Jason was hopping through rooftops till he saw your figure in a random fire escape. Jason raised a brow under his helmet, didn’t your patrol ended an hour ago?

You sat silently, staring into the night below you, a sigh escaping from your lips. A quiet and somber look on your face. You seemed to be lost in thought, not even realizing that Jason was there. He could tell something was wrong, he debated if he should call out your name to get your attention, or just keep quiet and stand on silent lookout.

“Hey,” he called out, his deep voice cutting through the silence of the night. "Shouldn't you be home by now," he asked, tilting his head at you. You looked behind you as you only tiredly smiled, “Well, yeah.” you confirmed as you looked back in the horizon. “I just don’t feel like going home right now.” you tell him.

Jason studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his mask. “You don’t wanna go home?” Jason repeated, a hint of skepticism in his tone, “Why, did somethin’ happen?“

He leaned against the railing next to you, looking at you with concern. You looked down at your hands as you fiddled with them, “I forgot that there was a family gathering earlier, dad couldn’t find me in my room cause I was well.. patrolling so he said I can’t come home tonight.” you explained to him.

You sighed as you rubbed your face, “I can’t just tell him I’m a masked vigilante. I can’t just ignore my duty either.” Jason could see the exhaustion on your face, you looked tired, both physically and mentally. .

He shook his head slightly as he looked off into the distance. “This is the life you chose,” he reminded you, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “You can’t expect to have both. You either dedicate yourself to this, or you stick with your family.”

He paused for a moment, then spoke again, his tone a little gentler, “You gotta decide what’s more important.”

“You shouldn’t stay out here all night,” Jason stated gruffly, “You’ll freeze to death. You shook your head, “No, no, it’s okay I’ll just go to the manor.” you protested.

Jason let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Stop being stubborn and just come with me,” he said, his tone gruff. He grabbed your arm and started to drag you down the stairs, “Wayne Manor is too far. You’re coming with me tonight, no complaints.”

Jason led you in another apartment, he cracked open the window and gestured for you to come in first. You sighed in resignation and climbed through the window. Jason followed you, hopping through the window almost effortlessly.

You found yourself standing in what appeared to be a small, modest apartment. There was a small living area with a couch and TV, a little kitchen, and a small hallway that led to a bedroom and a bathroom. It was sparsely furnished, looking like it only had the essentials for someone to survive.

You gazed over to the display case. You couldn't help but stare at the assortment of weapons, knives, and guns that were displayed behind glass. They were all in perfect condition, each one looked like it had been cared for, like a collection of works of art.

"Impressive, right?" Jason remarked, leaning against the wall as he followed your gaze, “They are.” you answered him.

“Right, you want a drink? Let me get you juice or somethin’ while you remove your armor.” Jason gestured to the couch before making his way to the kitchen. He looked into the refrigerator, trying to find something he thought you'd like. He found a bottle of strawberry milk juice, grabbed two glasses before pouring some for you and himself. He returned to the living room, handing you a glass.

You chuckled to yourself, “You drink this?” Jason looked at you, a slight scowl on his face. "Shut up," he grumbled, taking a sip of his juice. "Steph left it.”

"Can’t let it go to waste though," he grumbled, "Besides, I needed something sweet tonight." He watched your figure as you drank your drink. Your feet were curled up on the couch and your armor was placed on his table. He could tell by your eyes that your mind was clouding from thoughts. “You still thinkin’ about your dad?” he asked, breaking the silence in the room.

Your thoughts snapped as you looked at him, “A bit.”Jason leaned back against the couch, studying you for a moment before speaking up again. "Don't let it get to you," he said, "Family problems… they're a pain in the ass to deal with." You buried your head in your knees, “I just feel like I’m never good enough for my dad. He’s always dissatisfied with me.”

He knew that feeling all too well.

"I can tell you from experience, you’ll never be good enough for some people, no matter how much you try." he said, his voice low and gruff, "And for some, nothing is gonna change their mind." He reached out and gently placed a hand on your back, rubbing it comfortingly. "But you know what? You shouldn't let that get to you," he continued, his grip tight on your shoulder, "You're your own person; you don't gotta prove anything to anyone.”

“Why?” you murmured. "I don’t know, ‘cause life’s short," he said, removing his hand from your back and running his fingers through his hair. "You don’t want to spend it trying to be someone else instead of being yourself."

You sighed, “I can’t just.. deny something my father wants me to do the most.” you said “He gave me a roof, food, things— why would I repay him back by disappointing him?”

"You don't owe him anything," he responded, his voice firm, "Just because he gave those things to you doesn't mean you owe him everything in return. He's your father; he's *supposed* to take care of you." Your eyes darted to his, “Isn’t that what children are supposed to do? Repay their parent’s sacrifices?”

Jason scoffed at your question, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No," he said firmly, "Parents are supposed to sacrifice for their kids. It’s their job. Children aren't obligated to return the favors their parents did for them. Parents don't sacrifice so their children will be indebted to them forever.” You lifted your head up at him, processing what he said. Jason looked at you and caught your gaze.

He studied your face, seeing the pain and confusion etched into your features. He knew the feeling, he knew the guilt and the burden that came with trying to live up to someone else’s expectations and sacrifices. You looked away, “Sorry, it was just a mindset I had for a long time.” you said. He reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don’t apologize," he said, his voice low and steady. "I get it. I’ve been there before, and I know how it feels." He felt a strange, unfamiliar instinct to protect you, to comfort you… to make sure you were alright. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. He took your half empty drink and placed in on the table. He set the empty glass aside and turned his attention back to you.

Jason could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the subtle slump in your shoulders. He knew you were tired, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. You tiredly smiled, “Is it obvious? He nodded and let out a little chuckle, "Yeah, it’s pretty obvious," he said, "You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Jason stands up, “Come on, you can sleep in my bed. I got a spare shirt you can wear.” he said as he walked ahead.

Your eyes widen at his offer, you never thought he was the type to be that considerate.

"Are you sure?" you asked, following him as he led you towards the bedroom. He nodded in response, opening the door to his bedroom. The room was relatively clean, with a large bed in the center. He walked to the closet and started to search through it. After a moment, he found what he was looking for and pulled out a clean shirt. He handed it to you.

"You can change in the bathroom if you want," he said, gesturing to the small bathroom attached to his bedroom. You took the shirt from him and headed to the bathroom, changing out of your spandex. When you emerged, you found Jason sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you.

He looked up as you came out, his gaze sweeping over your figure in his shirt. It hung loose on you, the fabric soft and comfortable against your skin. He gestured for you to come closer. "Come here," he said, patting the space on the bed next to him. Jason reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"Don’t let your dad’s bullshit get to you, alright?" he said, his voice soft and low. You sighed, leaning on his shoulder “Thanks Jay.” Jason could feel the exhaustion seeping out of you as you leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. The feeling of protectiveness that he had felt earlier returned, stronger this time.

"Don’t mention it," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just get some rest, you’ll feel better in the morning." You lay down on the bed, the fabric of the sheets feeling cool and comforting against your exhausted body. Jason moved to pull the covers over you, making sure you were tucked in comfortably. He took a moment to study your face, seeing how weary and tired you looked.

Without thinking, Jason leaned in and pressed a soft, almost imperceptible kiss to your forehead.

As he pulled back, he cleared his throat and looked away. He hoped you didn’t notice the blush rising to his cheeks. He quickly stood up, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "You should get some rest," he mumbled, looking at you with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty.

You frowned, “Not gonna stay?” He was taken aback by your question, he wasn’t expecting you to ask him to stay. He was hoping you would’ve just fallen asleep. He scratched the back of his neck, looking away from your gaze.

"I don’t know... do you want me to stay?" he asked, his voice gruff. You softly huffed with a smile, “You already gave me a goodnight kiss. Why not?” He looked at you, meeting your gaze for a moment before answering. “Don’t get used to it,” he grumbled as he removed his jacket, revealing the skin tight black shirt underneath.

He slid into bed, lying down next to you. He kept his distance at first, but as you shifted closer to him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his side. He felt your warm body pressed against his, your head resting on his chest, your breathing steady and slow.

He couldn’t deny that this felt...good. Comforting, in a way he wasn’t used to. But as he lay there, holding you, his thoughts wandered to the implications of this situation. He knew you were friends, but there was something more to this, something he couldn’t ignore.

He cared for you, more than just a friend. And as he lay there in the darkness, with you in his arms, he couldn’t deny that he wanted more. Still, he knew better than to say anything. You were in a vulnerable state; he didn’t want to take advantage of that. He watched your face for a moment, the steady rise and fall of your breath indicating that you finally fell asleep.

The faint moonlight filtering through the window cast a soft glow over your face, illuminating your features in an ethereal way. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. He gently squeezed your body against his, holding you closer. The feeling of protecting you, of having you in his arms...

He knew he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.

🐇 hello everyone! i made a discord server! please make sure to reblog, let me know if you guys are interested in a part two.

[ninjatrashpanda]

Jingle All The Way (To The Damn ER)

Written for @bucktommywinterfest

Prompt: Holiday themed calls; Mistletoe Kiss

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, fluff, holiday shenanigans

Read on AO3 here.

“Well, that’s…” Eddie said the moment the team had arrived and climbed out of the engine.

“Unfortunate,” Hen finished, her eyes fixed on the roof of the house they’d just pulled up to. Buck couldn’t exactly blame her. Up there, surrounded by absurd amounts of fake snow (and some of the most garish Christmas decorations Buck had ever seen), was a rather burly man in a Santa costume, his lower half stuck in a chimney, screaming and shouting out curse after curse. (Some seemingly not even in English, Buck noted. They sounded vaguely German to him, and for a moment he wondered if that made him racist.)

“That’s gotta be a new one,” Chim muttered, squinting up at the struggling Santa. “I mean, we’ve seen plenty of Santas in sticky situations, but this? This takes the fruitcake.”

How did things like these even happen? How did someone look at a chimney and say ‘Oh, yes, I’ll slide down there, no biggie!’ It was absolutely asinine, so completely unhinged and idiotic that Buck’s brain hardly was able to comprehend the thought process it must’ve taken this guy to end up where he did.

Then again, Buck probably really shouldn’t judge people for making harebrained decisions.

“Do you think he realizes that he probably would’ve busted his ankles if he’d actually slid down there?” Eddie asked, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. The team’s radios crackled with a faint background hum, the absurdity of the scene almost enough to make them forget they were here on an actual call.

Buck tilted his head, stepping forward, his eyes narrowed. The more he looked at the scene, the more unreal it seemed. He decided to reconsider his earlier thought. He was allowed to judge, cause even he wasn’t lacking foresight this hard. “Is it just me, or does that chimney look way too small for him to have even considered crawling through it in the first place?”

“It’s not just you,” Bobby, who now rounded the engine to join the team, said, reaching for his radio. “Dispatch, Engine 118 is on scene. We have one victim, male, age seems to be mid to late forties. Victim appears to be stuck. And dressed as Santa.”

There was a pause before Dispatch answered, the crackle of static barely covering what Buck could’ve sworn was a snort of laughter. “Copy that, 118,” came Josh’s slightly strained response. Buck noticed Bobby side-eyeing his radio, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame Josh. He’d be laughing too if he wasn’t on this call professionally. “Please confirm: is the scene secure, and do you need additional resources?”

“I don’t know, maybe a team of reindeer to pull him out?” Chim called up toward the house, earning him a glare from Hen, who was probably already assessing what kind of injuries this guy could’ve suffered from…well, this.

“Scene’s secure,” Bobby said, ignoring Chim’s antics, and exchanging another couple of words with Josh. Then, he turned to the crew. “Buck, Eddie, grab the ladder and all the lube we have. Hen, Chim, get ready to check this guy out as soon as they get him down here.”

Buck shook his head as he jogged over to the rig to get the lube, their victim’s voice calling out every swear under the sun. “You know, for a guy playing Santa, he’s not exactly spreading holiday cheer up there.”

From the roof, Santa’s voice rang out, muffled but clearly annoyed. “I can hear you, you know!”

“Good!” Chim called back, a slightly catty edge to his voice. “Then you’ll be delighted to know we’re here to rescue your jolly behind!”

Eddie followed Buck to grab the ladder while Hen remained firmly planted, hands on her hips, staring up at Santa like he was her children’s math homework she was trying to help them with. “How did you not realize this is a terrible idea before you got halfway in?”

“I bet you he lost a dare,” Chim said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “There’s no way this guy just looked at that chimney and thought, ‘Yeah, I can make it.’”

Raising an eyebrow, Hen turned toward Chim and let out a small huff, “I’m sorry, but should you of all people make fun of that? Should I remind you of why we call you ‘Chimney?’”

Chim’s grin faltered for just a second, and Hen’s smirk grew triumphant. “Low blow, Hen,” he retorted, though his tone was light. “But, for the record, I didn’t willingly wedge myself in anything. I was an innocent victim of faulty construction.”

“Sure, Chim,” Hen said, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe him. She turned her attention back to the roof, where Santa continued to struggle, his efforts achieving nothing but a faint creaking noise from the chimney that made everyone on the ground cringe.

“Why am I not surprised?” Buck muttered, setting up the ladder and turning to Eddie. “Come on. Let’s get Santa out of there before he Tim Allens himself.”

Eddie planted his hands on the ladder to keep it steady as Buck began to climb. “Think he’ll go on the naughty list for this?”

“Not if we save him before Hen smacks some sense into him,” Buck called down, his voice lighthearted as he worked his way up toward the roof.

From below, Hen sighed and shook her head, her exasperation at Santa finally getting to her. “One of these days, I’m going to get through a shift without an incident that makes me question humanity.”

“Today is not that day,” Eddie replied, barely stifling his grin.

“Yeah, well,” Hen said, watching Buck hoist himself onto the roof, “let’s just hope Santa’s dignity is the only thing that got bruised tonight.”

As Buck reached the chimney, he peered down at the man’s awkwardly wedged body. This was worse than he had expected. Like he’d thought, the man’s stomach was plugging up the chimney entirely, but he hadn’t predicted the small cracks that were forming all around the top of the shaft, some of which already ran up to halfway down the sides. “Okay, big guy, hang tight. We’re gonna get you out of here, but try not to move too much.”

“Believe me,” Santa grumbled, a deadpan expression on his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” Buck said under his breath, before reaching for his radio. “Uh, Cap? Send Eddie up here with the tools. This is a two-man job at least and the lube’s not gonna cut it.”

Chim’s voice chimed in immediately. “Santa’s had one too many cookies, huh?”

“Not helping, Chim,” Buck shot back, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

This was going to be a long shift.

🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄

“So this is not what we usually get called in for.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the, frankly, ridiculous scene in front of him. Somehow, a guy on skis had managed to not only crash into the giant Christmas tree that had been set up right by the main lodge, the guy had somehow managed to get himself completely tangled up in the lights, which still blinked in all colors of the rainbow.

In all his life as a soldier, a firefighter and now a rescue pilot, Tommy had never seen something this idiotic before.

“How did this even happen?” he asked the manager of the resort, a woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, who wore a sharp, dark grey pantsuit. To her credit, she seemed just as exasperated as he felt.

“I wish I knew,” the manager replied, pressing two fingers to her temple as if she were fighting off a migraine. “All I got was a frantic call from one of the lodge staff saying there was ’a skier emergency’ and that I should ‘bring someone who knows how to untangle knots.’” She gestured toward the blinking, flailing mess of a man. “I didn’t expect this.”

Tommy let out a long sigh and turned back to the scene. The skier, who was now groaning softly, looked like a particularly unfortunate ornament hung by an overzealous child. The man’s goggles were askew, his skis were pointing in entirely different directions, and his jacket, a garish neon green, made him look like an elf who’d lost a fight with Santa’s workshop.

“Is he…conscious?” Tommy asked, squinting.

“Yep, sure is,” García, one of the paramedics of the 217 he’d flown up here said. She straightened up and pulled her gloves on tighter. “Hey, Kinard, can you get me a backboard? I feel like we’re gonna need to tie this guy down even if he somehow managed not to break his spine.”

“On it,” Tommy replied with a sigh, and headed back to his chopper. He still wasn’t sure just how this could’ve possibly happened. He had a sinking suspicion that alcohol had played a part, but he kept that to himself, instead silently grabbing the backboard from the back of the helicopter.

He trudged back through the snow, (If the way the artificial stuff felt under his boots was anything to go on, he would absolutely despise real snow.) a soft hum under his breath. The resort’s cheery Christmas music (now an unfortunate backdrop to this circus) had invaded his brain and wouldn’t leave it for probably the rest of his shift (or a week later. Or a month. Or a goddamn year).

As Tommy handed the backboard over to García, he crouched down to get a better look at the skier. “Alright, buddy, you with us?” he asked, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The man groaned again and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “The tree came out of nowhere.”

Tommy blinked. “The tree came out of nowhere?” He exchanged a look with García, who rolled her eyes and smirked, biting her lip.

“I swear it did,” the skier slurred, his head lolling slightly to the side. “One minute, skiing. Next minute, tree.”

Tommy sighed, a sound that felt like it came straight from his soul. “Yeah, I’m sure the tree leapt right out to grab you. Happens all the time.” He shot a glance at the manager, who snorted softly but quickly disguised it as a cough. She was clearly trying to keep her professional veneer intact, but her expression betrayed her amusement.

García got to work, carefully cutting away a few strands of the blinking lights that had wound tightly around the man’s torso. “This guy’s tangled worse than my Abuela’s Christmas lights,” she muttered.

“Don’t disrespect your Abuela,” Tommy quipped. “At least she didn’t knock over the tree.”

The skier let out a low groan. “I’m never drinking eggnog again…”

Ah, there it was. Tommy resisted the urge to say, called it, and focused on the task at hand. “Look, pal, we’re gonna get you out of here, but I need you to stay still. Can you do that?”

The skier didn’t respond directly, but he gave a lazy thumbs-up that didn’t inspire much confidence.

“Great,” García muttered. “Kinard, help me stabilize him before we move him.”

Tommy stepped in to assist, holding the backboard steady as García and the other paramedic carefully maneuvered the man’s limbs. The lights resisted, clinging stubbornly to the skier as if they were part of some cosmic punishment for his sins against Christmas decor. It took some creative maneuvering and a few choice curses from García before the last of the lights finally snapped free.

Once the skier was secured to the backboard, Tommy stood up and dusted the snow off his pants. “Alright, let’s load him up. We’ll fly him down to the hospital for a once-over.”

The manager stepped closer, looking at the still-blinking lights strewn across the snow like abandoned tinsel. “What about…all this?” She gestured vaguely at the scene of destruction.

Tommy shrugged. “I’d say leave it. It’ll make for a great story. ‘The Tree Incident of 2024.’ You could make it an annual thing, build some buzz.”

The manager shot him a flat look. “I think we’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned back toward the helicopter, falling in line behind the paramedics carrying the backboard. “Let’s get Bode Miller here some help before he decides to start singing carols.”

As they walked, the skier managed to lift his head just enough to croak out one final, utterly sincere question: “But…did I win?”

Tommy couldn’t stop himself. He grinned. “Oh, buddy. You definitely won.”

🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄

“Dispatch, this is engine 118,” Bobby spoke into his radio, snapping the rest of the crew into Business Mode. “We’re pulling up on scene.”

The truck came to a halt outside a large community center, which seemed almost normal and boring. Except for the plumes of smoke coming out of one of the windows. Buck groaned and rolled his eyes. He hoped this wasn’t an actual fire, or at least that the window had already been opened by the time it started, because he didn’t know how he’d react if he found out someone in there had opened a window on a fire.

“Copy that, 118,” the dispatcher’s voice (Maddie this time) came through their radios as they all rushed to grab their gear. “Community Christmas Baking Event, one of the ovens caught fire. The 217 is on scene, Captain Chen is IC, he’ll give you more details.”

Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the 217, but he quickly shrugged it off. Sure, running into his boyfriend on the job would be nice, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Besides, Tommy was on helicopter duty today anyway. He was way up in the sky, riding his bird through the clouds and saving lives by bringing victims to the hospital far faster than an ambo ever could.

It brought a sigh to Buck’s lips as he jogged after Eddie and into the building at Captain Chen’s command, the same love struck one he always seemed to sigh when he thought about Tommy and his effortless coolness, and big heart, and dashing good looks. (And especially the cleft. God, did he love that cleft!) Less than a year ago, he hadn’t even known he was into men, and now here he was, happily, knowingly in love with the very same one who had blasted his closet door open with all the force of the hurricane they’d flown into when they had met.

The smell of burnt sugar and smoke hit Buck like a fist to the face as soon as he and Eddie entered the community center, every thought of Tommy instantly pushed to the back of his mind as he went into rescue mode. Eddie was already barking orders to one of the event organizers, a frazzled woman in a holiday sweater that had seen better days, while Buck took in the scene.

The lobby was a chaos of flour-dusted people, from crying children to panicked adults to people from the 217 trying to evacuate everyone, and a steady stream of smoke curling out of the kitchen at the far end of the hall. Buck followed Eddie through the hall, their boots clomping against the polished floor as they approached the kitchen door, quickly checking every frazzled bystander for injuries before urging them to leave the building already.

“Cap, this is Diaz, we’ve got thick smoke but no visible flames yet,” Eddie reported over his shoulder. “Kitchen is at the end of the main hallway. Looks like the sprinkler system hasn’t gone off.”

“At least the fire’s contained, then,” Bobby’s voice crackled through the radio. “Chen said two of his men are already in the kitchen, Hayes and Kinard. Assist them however they need.”

Buck’s brain came to a screeching halt. Kinard? Did Bobby just say Kinard?! His heart thudded in his chest, and he nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself just before Eddie noticed his sudden shift in demeanor. Kinard. Bobby had said Kinard. Tommy’s here. The realization brought a wide grin to Buck’s face at the thought of seeing his boyfriend in action, all big, and tough, and competent. He didn’t have time to process it, though, as he and Eddie reached the kitchen door, where the thick haze of smoke was quickly becoming stifling.

Eddie pushed it open, and they were greeted by chaos. Two firefighters from the 217 were already inside, one, Hayes according to his turnout jacket, directing a fire extinguisher toward an oven that was the apparent source of the problem, while the other worked to move large trays of baked goods away from the immediate area. The oven in question was blackened, with flames licking at its edges, a few stray flames dotted around the floor.

“Buckley! Diaz!” Hayes called out, practically bombarding the oven with foam. “We could use another set of hands on this.”

“On it,” Eddie shouted briskly, moving toward him. Buck’s eyes, however, had already met the other firefighters, and for a moment, it was as if everything around them didn’t even exist.

There he was, helmet on, jacket slightly singed, cleft chin invisible under the oxygen mask, but just knowing it was there and waiting for him to come kiss it made Buck weak in the knees. Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly. “Evan,” he called, and Buck couldn’t put his finger on why, but his voice sounded…hot. Hotter. Or something. He wasn’t sure what it was, just that he really wanted to tear the turnouts off of Tommy, fire and smoke be damned. “What are the odds?”

Buck managed a lopsided grin (that he knew Tommy would’ve loved if he only could have seen it!), his heart pounding a mile a minute. Tommy, all professional, and sooty and goddammit, Buck could almost smell the musk radiating off of him from over here. “Right?” he somehow brought out with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “It seems so unlikely!”

Tommy gave a quick shake of his head, exasperation evident in the way his eyes crinkled even under the helmet, but there was an unmistakable fondness too. “Focus up, Buckley,” he said, and if Buck wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the edges of his voice. “There’s still an oven fire to handle, and I’m pretty sure Captain Nash won’t appreciate me distracting his star firefighter.”

“Oh, I’m the star now?” Buck shot back, already moving to sort out the flames on the ground while Eddie and Hayes double-timed the burning oven. He could feel the warmth of Tommy’s presence nearby, but there was a job to do here, so he couldn’t even bask in it.

“Always have been,” Tommy replied, the words so casual Buck nearly choked on the laugh that bubbled out of him, all while Tommy had already turned his attention back to the task at hand with all the casualness the situation allowed. It was like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Buck’s overactive heart, and that only made him more feral inside.

“Hey!” Eddie barked, snapping Buck back into focus. “Quit flirting and help us!”

Right. Fire. Job. Professionalism.

Finished with the smaller fires, Buck moved to assist Hayes and Eddie with the oven, which turned out to be a much bigger problem than they had anticipated. Together, they aimed for the stubborn flames that were trying to escape the oven, working in tandem to snuff them out. The smoke was thick and cloying, stinging Buck’s eyes even through his mask, but the blaze was already starting to die down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tommy check the rest of the appliances for damage and ensure no other hotspots could reignite, causing another swell of pure affection and, frankly, borderline horniness to rush through Buck’s body.

The team worked efficiently, their movements seamless and practiced. Within minutes, the immediate danger was contained, the oven reduced to a smoldering mess. Eddie called it in to Bobby while Hayes and Tommy began assessing the kitchen’s ventilation system to clear the remaining smoke.

Buck busied himself by checking out (and mourning) the remaining trays of half-burnt cookies and pies, but his mind kept wandering to Tommy. It was surreal seeing him here, grounded instead of flying high above the chaos. Buck had always admired the cool confidence Tommy exuded in the air, but now he was seeing it up close, in action on the ground.

Once the kitchen was declared safe, the teams began packing up their gear. The smoke was thinning, though the acrid smell of burnt sugar lingered in the air. Buck caught Tommy leaning against the wall, his helmet tucked under one arm, looking as composed as ever despite the soot smudged across his cheek.

“So,” Buck said, sidling up to him, “what’s it like working with your feet on the ground for a change?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, that smirk reappearing. “Not bad. Less turbulence, more smoke. And I get to run into you.”

Buck chuckled, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks despite himself. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Yeah, I had to fill in for Callahan. Broke his arm on a call this morning,” Tommy said casually. “Guess I was meant to be here.” He tilted his head, his gaze softening. “You okay? You look a little... out of it.”

“I’m fine,” Buck said quickly, though his heart still hadn’t entirely settled. “It’s just that you don’t meet an absolutely irresistible beast while out on a call.”

Tommy’s smirk grew. “Ah, so I made you look like a lovesick puppy. Figures. I have that effect on people.”

Eddie’s voice cut through their moment. “Buck! We’re wrapping up. Let’s go.”

Buck flinched at the sudden intrusion of his and Tommy’s bubble, and he quickly shot his partner a venomous look, (not that Eddie seemed to care much, judging by the exasperated expression) before turning back to Tommy.

“Duty calls,” he said with a shrug, but he hesitated before stepping away. “I’ll see you later?”

Tommy gave him a small, private smile, the kind that made Buck’s heart flutter in a way that still felt new and thrilling. And then, without a warning, he placed his fingers under Buck’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his chin, before pulling him in.

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, one that sent a shockwave of warmth through Buck’s body. Almost instinctively, Buck grabbed Tommy’s hips to pull him closer, any space being between them making him feel like he was suffocating. He craved the heat of Tommy’s body, the firmness of his chest, even the smell of smoke and burned gingerbread in his hair.

Despite Buck’s excruciating hunger, he didn’t try to deepen the kiss beyond the chaste, soft peck it was. He wanted to, of course, the craving to rip Tommy’s turnouts off never having gone away, but he knew none of that was something they could do right now. Even just this was highly unprofessional and probably shouldn’t ever have happened, though Buck couldn’t possibly care less about it. His hot boyfriend was hot, and he had initiated smooch time, and Buck was only a man.

Tommy pulled back after a moment, his smirk softening into something tender, and Buck’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes found Tommy’s watching him with that familiar sparkle of pure, unadulterated love.

“Uh, what was that?” Buck chuckled. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help the smile that started to creep onto his face. “That wasn’t very…I don’t think Captain Chen and Captain Nash would approve of…”

“I think they would,” Tommy cut him off with a shrug. “You know, just this once. We were legally obligated to, after all.”

At Buck’s quizzical look, he simply pointed upward. Buck followed the gesture, tilting his head back to look up. And his heart nearly stopped. Hanging above them, just barely visible amidst the smoke and the still-swirling chaos of the kitchen, was a small sprig of mistletoe. It was a little toasty, but most of it, including the shiny, bright red bow tied around it, had miraculously survived.

He blinked at it, then back at Tommy, who was now grinning fully, his teeth flashing white despite the soot smudged on his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Buck muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. “Mistletoe? In the middle of a kitchen?”

Tommy shrugged, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant. “Rules are rules, babe.”

Buck let out a half-laugh, half-scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” Tommy repliplied, wiggling his eyebrow. And really, Buck couldn’t argue with that logic, but before he could respond, Eddie’s voice echoed sharply through the kitchen doorway.

“Buck! Seriously, let’s go!”

Buck groaned, giving Tommy one last lingering look. “Duty calls. Again. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course,” Tommy said, his voice warm, his smirk softening into something gentler. “Go save the world, babe.”

Buck pulled Tommy into one more short hug and planted a quick peck to his lips before turning around and jogging over to the door, always aware of the fond expression Tommy watched him with. As he followed Eddie back out the building and to the truck, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, even as Eddie shot him a knowing look.

“Don’t,” Buck said preemptively, waving his hand around. “Not. A. Word.”

Eddie smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

But he didn’t need to. Buck knew what his own face looked like right now, the power Tommy had over him no secret to him. It wasn’t like he cared much, either. He’d been the happiest he had ever been this past year, and if this continued, well.

He wasn’t going to complain.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓋𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 ౨ৎ

suo hayato x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ hurt comfort ﾉ mentions of alcohol ﾉ mentions of cheating (neither suo nor reader)

it’s not often that suo finds him out this late, especially on a night when snow is falling from the sky like someone sifting powdered sugar. though, he was unable to make a worthy excuse to get out of a gathering with his former classmates—forced to drink and converse until everyone decided to take their leave. compared to his companions, suo only nursed a couple of drinks throughout the duration of their get-together, however, the effects of what little alcohol he had linger—an almost pleasant lightness in his head and a rosy flush to his cheeks.

he’s sure that last part could also be attributed to the cold—all the more reason to get home quickly. snowflakes have already started to land on top of his head, melting away in the chocolatey strands, but the walk to his place is enough to warrant pulling out his umbrella. suo does just that and begins on his trek. 

the streets aren’t entirely empty—much less bustling than during the day but those who partake in the city’s nightlife keep them somewhat lively. the crowds thin out as he makes his way further from the bars. there’s a certain serenity that comes with the near-solitude but the peaceful moment is short-lived when suo takes notice of the lone figure crouched on the sidewalk.

the cold is beginning to bite at your skin and the snow slowly piling up around you is only making it worse. you almost regret choosing here of all places to stop and have your breakdown but something told you that people wouldn’t take a sobbing stranger wandering the streets too well—not that your current position is much better. the truth of the matter is, you were never going to make it home before the dam of tears broke.

unfortunately, crying in public tends to draw attention, no matter how hard you try to curl yourself into an invisible ball. footsteps padded by freshly powdered snow alert you of someone’s presence. a pair of feet step to stand in front of you and with their appearance, the snow that was falling atop your head and over your shoulders ceases. you fight back the urge to scoff—does this guy really have the audacity to try and be kind after what he pulled back there?

you lift your head, just enough so that your mouth isn’t tucked in your crossed arms. “leave me alone, asshole.”

“forgive me, i’m a bit tipsy.” the voice above you makes you stiffen. it’s not the one you were expecting to hear. “am i the asshole you’re referring to?”

despite the embarrassment looming over you—both at having been caught crying and at your uncalled-for vulgar language—you press yourself to look up. the sight you’re met with is confirmation that you lashed out at the wrong person.

it’s funny—even though you just called him a name (a very unkind one, at that), the man is smiling.

“no, i’m sorry.” you bow your head in apology before meeting his eye once more. “i thought you were someone else.”

“that’s a relief.” he laughs lightly, a cloud of cold air pushing past his lips with the pleasant sound. you don’t know the man, you’ve barely had a conversation with him, but his laugh ever-so-slightly lightens the heart weighing heavily in your chest.

under the shade of his umbrella that blocks the light emanating from the street lamps, it’s difficult for suo to get a good look at you. though, even with the dimness, all it takes is the squint of his eye for the man to tell you’ve been crying. the dried streaks of tears, the glistening of your eyes, the subtle wobble of your lip—signs that, even in his tipsy state, don’t go unnoticed by him. “is something the matter?”

“nothing that’s worth talking about…” not with a stranger, at least. or maybe that’s all the more reason to spill your guts about your no-good, cheating soon-to-be ex. the thought is tempting but you shake your head. you’re sure that if you started recounting the events that led up to this moment, you’d start bawling again. and as far as you’re concerned, you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.

suo hums, choosing not to push you to talk when you would rather not. however, he can’t bring himself to walk away and leave you by yourself. it’s dark and cold and there are people a lot drunker than him who may run into you who don’t have the restraint to back off. “you should probably head home.”

suo spares a quick glance at his watch. it’s late, but not so late that you don’t have a way home. “the buses should still be running. i can walk you to the stop if you’d like.”

he’s right—it likely wasn’t the wisest idea to stop here, especially when you’re feeling so vulnerable. and if you want to make it back to your apartment without walking miles through the snow, it would be best to pack up your pity party now. “okay. thanks.”

suo offers you a hand to help you up. he’s stronger than he looks, you think as he pulls you to a standing position. the shoes you put so much care into picking out earlier in the evening are practically soaked through with moisture but suo is careful to make sure the snow doesn’t dampen you any further. 

“do you want those?” the man asks, his finger pointing to the long-forgotten bouquet of flowers that was sitting beside you.

a fresh wave of sadness washes over you at the sight, an unwelcome reminder of how your thoughtfulness was trampled on. in all honesty, you’d much rather leave the flowers behind like the rest of this awful night but that would be littering. reluctantly, you bend down to scoop up the bouquet.

the two of you begin to walk toward the bus station and a silence blankets you, much like the fluffy snow that sprinkles from the sky. oddly enough, the quiet isn’t uncomfortable—not like how you expect it might be with someone you met only a few minutes ago. you steal a glance at the man beside you. his gaze is glued on the path ahead of him and there’s a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

a thought comes to mind and you find yourself voicing it immediately. “i never got your name.”

“i suppose we did skip that part.” he chuckles and, just like before, the sound makes your heart flutter. he turns to face you, the small smile widening as he does. “it’s suo.”

“suo…” his name rolls off your tongue smoothly. “nice to meet you.”

“the pleasure is mine.”

you grin at that because you’re sure he’s just being nice. you don’t know what part of encountering a crying stranger who calls you an asshole can be considered a pleasure, but you’re grateful for the accidental meeting. there’s no way suo can know this, but his mere presence saved you from being completely swallowed by sadness.

the lights from the bus stop come into view after a few more minutes of walking. your steps slow to a stop and suo’s do the same. 

“thanks for walking me,” you tell him as you duck under the awning. you’ve hogged space under his umbrella for long enough. “i appreciate it.”

“of course.” he waves his free hand like helping you out was the furthest thing from a chore. “please make it home safely.”

you remember him mentioning that he’d been drinking. “you too.” 

suo waves again, this time in a gesture of farewell, and turns on his heel to start on his way home. you watch his figure retreat beyond the snow and into the distance until you can’t see him anymore.

a sigh you didn’t know you were holding pushes past your lips. the weight of the flower bouquet in your hand draws your gaze toward it. with a derisive laugh, you drop them into the garbage can.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :3

[lvnleah]

— christmas list | our little love series 🎄

find the twelve days of Christmas masterlist here!

The kitchen smelled of fresh cookies, the scent lingering from the batch you had baked earlier with Beth and Viv. You sat at the kitchen island, swinging your legs back and forth, a piece of paper spread out in front of you. Your pink crayon was poised in your tiny hand, your tongue poking out in concentration as you focused on writing your name at the top of the page.

“R… O… R… What’s next, Mamma?” you asked, glancing at Viv with wide eyes.

“The letter Y, mijn meisje,” Viv said from her spot across the island, sipping her tea. She leaned forward slightly to watch you, her soft smile filled with pride. “You’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Mamma!” you grinned, carefully adding the Y and then squinting at the paper. “I think it’s done.”

Beth came up behind you, peering over your shoulder. “Let’s see, then. Rory… and what’s this?” she teased, pointing to the backwards Y you’d scrawled at the end. “A new type of letter, is it, monster?”

You gasped, twisting to face her, holding the crayon tightly in your hand. “It’s not wrong, Mummy! It’s just special!”

Beth laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Of course it is, munchkin. My mistake. What are we writing next?”

“My Christmas list!” you exclaimed, bouncing in your chair, your pigtails bobbing with the movement. You turned back to the paper, your excitement bubbling over as you looked at Viv for confirmation. “Right, Mamma?”

Viv nodded. “That’s right, Roo. But remember, it’s not just about asking for things. You have to be very polite to Santa, too.”

You nodded, “Okay, I’ll be polite. I promise.”

Beth smirked. “Shall we start with ‘Dear Santa,’ then? Or are we going straight to ‘Gimme all the toys’?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, Mummy! That’s not polite!” You picked up your red crayon again and began carefully writing out “Dear Santa” in big, uneven letters. Viv reached over and gently steadied the paper for you, her other hand brushing against your back.

“Perfect,” Viv said as you finished. “And what’s next? Want to tell him you’ve been good this year?”

You paused, tilting your head. “I think so… but maybe you should write that bit for me, Mamma, so he knows I really mean it.”

Beth snorted, hiding her laugh behind her hand. “Cheeky monkey. I think Santa knows you’re good… most of the time.”

“I am good!” you insisted, crossing your arms with a pout. “I help with the dogs and clean my room! Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Viv echoed with a teasing smile. “Go on, mijn meisje. Tell Santa what you’d like.”

You uncrossed your arms and picked up a green crayon this time, switching colours because, as you explained, “It has to look pretty for Santa.” Then, in your best wobbly handwriting, you began to list out your wishes, saying them aloud as you wrote:

“Colouring book,” you said first, your tongue sticking out in concentration as you struggled to form the letters. “With lots of crayons!” You underlined it twice for emphasis.

“Good choice,” Beth said, leaning on the counter. “What’s next? World domination? A pony?”

You giggled again, shaking your head. “Nooo, Mummy. Mamma says no pony, it’s smelly!”

Beth gasped, “But I thought you wanted your very own pony to ride to school?!”

“Nooo! Silly, Mummy,” you giggled, “Twix needs more friends! Like a bunny family!”

“Friends for Twix, got it,” Viv said, her lips twitching into a smile as she wrote that one down for you. “What else, mijn meisje?”

“Ummm… princess dresses!” You clapped your hands, your excitement bubbling over. “And… Barbie! A fairy one! And—oh, and something for Myle and Rona! Like a new ball or treats!”

Beth grinned. “Well, Santa’s got his work cut out for him this year.”

You paused, “Maybe some sweets, too?” you added. “For me…oh and some uhhh sweets for you and Mamma!”

Beth gave Viv a look. “What a generous little monster we’ve got, Vivi.”

Viv nodded in agreement, ruffling your curls gently. “Even if she’s already had enough sweets today.”

“Not enough!” you argued, turning to flash her a cheeky grin. “Never enough!”

Viv shook her head. “Back to work, mijn meisje. Make sure it’s pretty for Santa.”

You nodded seriously, returning your focus to your letter. After writing out a few more items with Viv’s help, you grabbed your box of crayons and began drawing little pictures around the edges—a Christmas tree in one corner, a stick-figure Santa in another, and, of course, a lopsided drawing of Twix.

Beth leaned down to look. “Is that me?” she asked, pointing to a stick figure with wild hair next to the tree.

“No,” you said, giggling. “That’s Santa. You don’t have a beard, Mummy.”

Beth laughed. “Fair enough. What about this one?” She pointed to another stick figure with longer hair holding a bunny.

“That’s me and Twix!” you declared proudly. “And that’s you, Mamma and Myle over there.”

Viv smiled softly, watching you colour. “Santa will love it, Roo!”

When you were finally finished, you held the paper up for both of them to see. It was full of scribbled words, mismatched colours, and wobbly drawings, but your face shone with pride. “Oh! Wait, it needs glitter!”

Viv raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “Glitter? Oh no, not the glitter.”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! Glitter makes everything prettier!” Without waiting for a response, you grabbed the glitter shaker from the side, the colourful sparkles catching the light.

“Roo, wait, we need to—” Viv began, but it was too late. You shook the glitter shaker with all your might, and in an instant, the kitchen counter was covered in a shimmering rainbow of glitter. Some of it landed on your paper, but most of it flew into the air, settling on the counter, your clothes, and even the dogs, who were now sniffing curiously at the glitter on the floor.

“Mamma, look!” you giggled, holding up your glitter-covered hands, “It’s so sparkly!”

Beth couldn’t help but laugh, “I think Santa might get a little extra sparkle with this letter.” She gave Viv a playful look. “What do you think, Vivi? Will Santa be able to read it with all the glitter?”

Viv sighed but smiled fondly. “He’ll get the message, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate the effort, Roo. But we might need to clean up some of this glitter before we track it everywhere.”

You giggled, “But Mamma, it’s just a little sparkle!”

Beth shook her head, grabbing a cloth. “A lot of sparkle, you mean. Come on, let’s try to keep it under control while we finish.”

You, however, were already back to shaking more glitter onto the page, and before either of them could stop you, the letter was a glittery masterpiece of chaotic sparkle, just as you had imagined it.

“Mamma! Mummy!” you exclaimed, holding up the letter triumphantly. “Santa’s going to love it! I made it special!”

Beth and Viv exchanged a look, both fighting off laughs “It’s perfect, Roo,” Beth said. “Santa’s going to think you’re very creative.”

“Creative and very…sparkly,” Viv added, brushing more glitter off her own lap.

You beamed at them, already planning the next step. “Now, we just need to send it!”

Viv and Beth exchanged another amused look as you carefully folded the glitter-covered letter in half, holding it up to them with a proud grin. 

“Alright, Roo,” Viv said, “but you’re not sending it like that, are you? We need to put it in an envelope.”

You scrunched your nose. “But… the glitter is the best part!” you protested, looking at the sparkling chaos in your hands. “Santa will love it!”

Beth chuckled. “I think Santa’s got a sparkle overload now. But don’t worry, we’ll figure out a way to make it look nice and send it off. Maybe a little less glitter next time?”

“Never!” you declared, shaking your head. “Glitter makes everything better!”

Viv sighed dramatically, but her eyes twinkled with affection. “If you say so, mijn meisje. Let’s just get the envelope, so Santa can see all your hard work.”

“Looks like we’re going to be vacuuming glitter until Christmas,” Beth muttered with a grin as you slipped the letter into the envelope. 

[claws-and-all]

Unpopular opinions

Today’s been one of those days where all my least favorite theories regarding Tamlin have been popping up, so I thought I’d share some of my unpopular opinions in case anyone else feels the same.

1. Tamlin should not get his own book

From all the male povs we've seen thus far, it's evident that sjm struggles to write male characters with complex feelings. They tend to lack depth, have the libido of a teenager, and the romance aspect is nonexistent. This coupled with the way she handled Nesta's "healing" journey (a character she supposedly loves) - suffice to say, she will not do justice to Tamlin's journey nor his inner monolog.

On top of that, we don't need a Chaol 2.0 book. The only people I've seen enjoy Chaol's book are the haters who became slightly lenient towards him. I feel like that book was not meant for the fans who actually loved Chaol from the get-go (like me). It was yet another "healing" journey that did not heal him 😒 (it's been 7 years since it's release and I'm still mad at it 🙈).

Also, just like Tam, Chaol is another character that is hated by 90% of the fandom. His book had the worst timing. In-between a high stakes book where you NEEDED to know what happened next and instead, you're forced to read a book that took you completely out of the action. It garnered more negativity towards a character that was already so heavily hated upon. It was such an unfair thing that occurred, and his fans were the ones that had to deal with the backlash of our favorite character being torn apart by the fandom. I truly hope history does not repeat itself with Tamlin. The fandom is waiting for the elriel/elucien confirmation, and I can just see the hate pouring in if it's a book about Tamlin instead. He deserves infinitely better!

2. Tamlin and Lucien should never be friends again

I'm sorry, I know a lot of you love Lucien, I'm rather 50/50 on him. If elucien happens, it will mean Lucien is now a part of the NC family, bil to Rhys, friendly with the ic, uncle to Nyx, already friends with Nesta and Feyre. That's not the kind of energy Tamlin needs in his life nor the constant reminder of everything that he lost (Rhys is doing a fabulous job of that already).

I liked Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in book 1, but I was not a fan of how he kind of abandoned Tamlin for Feyre. It's like he became more her friend than Tams as the series progressed. I think Tamlin deserves a better friend - someone who will have his back and not his partners back. And someone not so heavily intertwined with a court that has caused so much pain to him. I can almost see Lucien slowly trying to convince Tam that the nc guys are actually "the good guys". Who knows, maybe he'll also pull a Feyre and compare Springs food to ash since nothing can come close to precious NC food, you know.

That being said, I have no idea where such friends will come from because every character we've met thus far automatically dislikes Tamlin and are fans of nc guys (still waiting for the explanation as to why Jurian, Vassa, Eris, and even Nuan are Tam haters?? Make it make sense, Sarah!).

Alternatively, I do love angst. I would love a storyline of Tamlin moving on with his life without Lucien. As in his future wife/mate/partner doesn't even know who Lucien is. Whilst Elucien is also thriving in the human lands/NC/DC/AC. Yet the entire time, they both feel like there's a missing piece in their life. They would see each other at HL meetings or balls. Yet they're too stubborn to speak to each other. Until decades later when one of them finally breaks the ice. The yearning and the hurt, love that shit lol

3. Tamlin x Briar?

Let’s keep that in the dark where it belongs. - nuff said!

4. Elain should not even look in the direction of Spring

Just because she likes gardening doesn't mean she should be spring queen 😑 I'm sure she can follow in the footsteps of her sister and brother in law and trespass into Spring if she needs to see flowers in abundance. It is afterall, nc tradition to lecture Tamlin in his own court and kick him in the shins. I really don't want to see her becoming friends with Tamlin, helping him rebuild Spring, making it her second home, etc etc etc. Like the point above, she and Lucien have enough homes to go back to. They don't need an extra one in Spring. And Tamlin doesn't need any more nc "friends".