#I think there's maybe 1 exception to this?

[dakusan]

S K Z R e a c t i n g t o a P o s i t i v e P r e g n a n c y T e s t

stray kids ot8 x reader | two pink lines, eight breakdowns, one very lucky uterus.

🍼 synopsis: You didn’t plan this. Not the moment, not the timing, not the trembling plastic test that changed your life in a heartbeat. But one by one, you tell them. One by one, you hold out that tiny white stick with two pink lines. And one by one—each of them breaks open. Sometimes, two lines is all it takes to rewrite everything. And sometimes, everything sounds a lot like: “You’re having my baby?”

💌 a/n: To the anon who sent this prompt: I HOPE YOUR PILLOWS ARE COLD AND YOUR WIFI NEVER LAGS. You gave me eight men and said “make them react to a pregnancy test 🥺👉👈” and I said BET. AND THEN THEY DID. THEY REACTED. THEY BROKE DOWN. THEY GOT ON THEIR KNEES. THEY CRIED ON BATHROOM FLOORS. THEY STARTED PRENATAL POWER SNACK PREP. this was so cute you now owe me therapy. p.s. reblog for clear skin and an emotionally available babydaddy. p.p.s. if Chan on his knees didn’t ruin you emotionally, you’re lying. p.p.p.s. somebody please make fanart of Dori in a bib that says “Hyung.”

📍credits: @cafekitsune , @thecutestgrotto for the dividers

🎧 » Hug Me — I.N « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:00 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Bang Chan

You didn’t plan to tell him like this.

You had wanted to wait. Set up something quiet and sweet. A note, maybe. Or a mug with #1 Appa written on it. Something he could hold in his hands while you stood across the room, heart pounding.

But life has never followed your plans when it comes to Bang Chan. It has always moved faster, deeper, louder.

Like tonight. When you called his name from the bathroom with something trembling in your fingers. A white stick. A faint second line. And all the blood draining from your face.

Chan enters the room in sleep pants and a hoodie, half-damp hair from the shower. He blinks at you—then the test in your hand—and in a moment, all air disappears from his lungs.

“What…?”

You pass it to him wordlessly, heart in your throat.

His fingers shake as he takes it. Looks down.

Silence.

You try to prepare for anything. Shock. Denial. Fear.

But what you get is breathless awe.

“…It’s real?”

You nod. You think.

“I mean—I took another one. And I’ll take more. I don’t know how accurate they are this early—”

But Chan’s already across the space between you, wrapping his arms around you so tight, so careful, so anchored you forget how to speak.

“You’re really having my baby,” he breathes into your hair. “You’re really—” He laughs, and the sound cracks. Then again, softer. Wet. “I love you. I love you so much. I swear I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna take such good care of both of you.”

He drops to his knees. Presses his cheek to your stomach even though there’s nothing to see yet.

Just skin. Just potential. Just a future that’s suddenly real.

“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “It’s Appa. We haven’t met yet, but you’re gonna be so loved, okay? We’ve got you.”

You run your fingers through his curls and feel him kiss you gently—reverently—through the fabric of your shirt. Everything around you fades, every fear fades, except him.

Because this man? He was born to love like this.

Lee Minho

It’s 8:17 PM on a Sunday.

Minho is sprawled on the couch in sweatpants and a wrinkled shirt he’s been wearing since last night, a half-finished plate of tteokbokki on the coffee table, and three cats currently fighting for ownership of his chest. Soonie’s curled up against his ribs. Doongie’s nestled by his knee. Dori is actively trying to sit on his face.

It’s domestic bliss in its purest form—until you walk in holding a tiny plastic stick with two pink lines.

“Babe?” you say softly.

He looks up, squinting. Dori meows, offended at being jostled.

Minho blinks once. Then again. “What’s that?”

You bite your lip and hold it out. “I think… we’re gonna need more than three bowls soon.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Soonie sneezes. Doongie flops over dramatically. Minho doesn’t move.

Then—

“…No way.”

His voice is low. Disbelieving. He slowly sits up, cats scattering. He takes the test like it might dissolve in his hands.

“Wait, wait—two lines means…”

You nod. He stares.

“You’re pregnant.”

Another nod. You’re suddenly very aware of your own heartbeat.

Minho exhales. Long. Sharp. Then he turns and stares at the cats. “You three are about to be older siblings,” he tells them. Dori blinks. Then he looks at you again. His eyes are wide, but soft. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Like really serious.”

“Yes, Minho.”

He crosses the room and pulls you into his arms without another word. Just wraps you up, tight and warm, chin tucked over your shoulder. You can feel how fast his heart is beating.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles.

“You’ll be amazing,” you whisper back. “You take care of all of us already.”

He pulls back just enough to look at your stomach. “You’ve been feeding me double portions all week. You were preparing.”

You laugh through the tears. “You think I planned this?”

“No,” he says, grinning now. “But I’m glad it’s you. And me. And—”

His hand brushes gently over your lower belly. ��And whoever you are in there.”

Behind you, there’s a crash. You both turn to find Doongie knocking over the tteokbokki, Soonie sniffing it, and Dori sitting proudly in the bowl.

Minho sighs. “We need to teach them boundaries before the baby gets here.”

You’re still laughing when he kisses your temple.

Seo Changbin

You don’t plan some Pinterest-worthy reveal. No onesies in gift boxes. No custom cookies that say ‘bun in the oven.’

You just... panic-laugh and blurt it out at the worst possible moment. Which, in this case, is: right as Changbin is taking the world’s biggest bite of a protein bar post-leg day.

“I’m pregnant,” you say.

He chokes. Literally. Gags, coughs, eyes watering as he grabs a water bottle and downs half of it in three seconds. You reach out to thump his back, but he waves you off—one hand in the air like he needs to process the universe first.

“Wait,” he rasps. “Wait. What?”

You just hold up the test.

His jaw drops. Like, drops.

“THAT’S A PREGNANCY TEST.”

You nod.

“AND IT’S—TWO LINES—TWO—” He counts them out on his fingers just to be sure. “That means positive, right? POSITIVE like YES, not positive like ‘good vibes’ positive?”

You nod again, nearly in tears now from how panicked and adorable he looks.

Then there’s a beat. A shift. His entire face changes.

“…You’re really having my baby?” Soft. Quiet. Disbelieving. He steps forward slowly, like you might vanish.

You nod again, biting your lip. “Yeah. I am.”

And then he just—melts.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” he says, dazed. “I’m gonna be a DAD. Like—little shoes. Little clothes. Little you. With like—tiny arms. And maybe your nose. Oh my god.”

You blink, and he’s hugging you like he’s trying to shield you from the whole world. Then pulling back, both hands cupping your cheeks.

“I’m so fucking happy,” he breathes. “Like, terrified—but also really happy. Are you okay? Do you need water? Snacks? Protein? Oh my god, you need protein. You’re literally building a person.”

You laugh. “I don’t think the baby needs whey powder, Binnie.”

“You never know!” he yells toward the kitchen. “Fetus needs gains!”

Then he runs off to make a “power snack” for you and your microscopic baby, while mumbling, “I need to call my mom—no, wait, I need to learn how to swaddle—what the hell is swaddling—”

You lean against the wall, stomach fluttering, and smile so wide your cheeks ache. You’re about to have a baby. And that baby’s father? Is Seo Changbin.

Loud, loyal, chaotic, golden-hearted Seo Changbin. And that means everything’s going to be okay.

Hwang Hyunjin

It happens on a quiet morning.

The sun is creeping in through the curtains, golden and warm. You’re in one of his oversized shirts, curled on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest. The test sits on the coffee table, face-up. Positive. Blunt and unreal.

Hyunjin is in the kitchen humming something, probably working on a smoothie with way too much honey.

You don't say anything. You just… Wait. And when he wanders in with the drink, barefaced and sleepy-eyed, he sees you staring at the test. Then follows your gaze.

Then—stops breathing. “What… is that?”

You blink up at him. “Baby,” you say. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The smoothie hits the floor. He doesn't even flinch. Just stares at the test like it's glowing. “No way,” he whispers. Then again, like he’s in a dream: “No way.”

You nod. Careful. Soft.

He drops to his knees in front of you. Grabs both your hands. “You’re not kidding?” he asks. “You’re not—like, this isn’t a dream or some surreal performance art you’ve constructed to test my emotional range?”

You giggle through the nerves. “It’s real, Jinnie.”

And then—oh, the eyes. Big and glassy and full of awe. He gently presses his hands to your stomach, even though there’s nothing visible yet.

“You’re carrying something made of us?” he says, like he’s tasting every word.

You nod. And he starts to cry. Not loud or messy. Just that beautiful, quiet unravelling he does when his heart gets too full. His forehead presses to your belly. His voice breaks. “I already love them so much,” he whispers. “And you. You—God, you’re going to be the most beautiful mother. I’m going to paint you. Every day. You’ll hate it, but I’ll do it anyway.”

You laugh and pull him close. “I’m scared,” you admit softly.

“I know,” he says, cupping your face, brushing his thumb under your eye. “Me too. But we’ll make something beautiful. We already are.”

Behind him, the smoothie seeps into the floorboards. He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy falling in love all over again.

Han JIsung

You make the mistake of showing him the pregnancy test in the middle of a Mario Kart match.

You were trying to wait until the end. But you couldn’t. The plastic stick in your hoodie pocket felt like it was burning a hole through your skin. So you pause the game. Turn to him on the couch. And say: “Ji… I’m pregnant.”

His character flies off Rainbow Road. He doesn’t even flinch.

You hold out the test. He squints at it like you’ve handed him alien technology. Then looks at you. Then back at the test. “…Wait,” he says. “Waitwaitwaitwait. WAIT. Like—pregnant pregnant?? Like—not the fake TikTok prank kind? Not the 'ha-ha, gotcha,’ kind???”

“Pregnant pregnant,” you say gently. “No ha-ha.”

Silence.

Then: Han Jisung.exe has stopped working. He sits completely still. Eyes wide. Hands frozen in place.

You can see the thoughts ping-ponging through his brain at lightning speed. Baby? Dad? Bottles? Diapers? Are we ready? Oh my god—tiny socks—oh my god—do babies even like me—Then—

“I NEED TO CALL MY MOM.”

You grab his arm. “Ji—”

“No no no wait, I need to call your mom too. I need to call the hospital. Do we need to buy a crib? I need a book. I need—”

“Ji—breathe.”

He finally looks at you. Really looks. And you watch the panic melt into something quieter. More real. “You’re serious?” he whispers.

You nod. “Yeah. I took three tests. All the same.”

He just… folds. Lets out the softest, shakiest breath. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he says, almost reverently. “I’m gonna have a little person who’s half you. Who might have your nose. Or your laugh. Or your attitude—God help me—”

You snort, already teary-eyed. “We’re doomed.”

But then he’s holding you. Pulling you close. Rocking gently on the couch with his face buried in your neck. “I’m so happy,” he mumbles. “So fucking happy. I just—I don’t know if I’ll be good at it, but I’m gonna try so hard. Like, Olympic-level try. Like, gold medal in dad-ing.”

You smile into his hair. “You’ll be the best,” you whisper. “Because it’s you.”

And while the softness surrounds both of you, his poor Mario Kart character is still falling off Rainbow Road.

Lee Felix

He’s lying in bed next to you, all warm freckles and sleepy smiles, arms slung lazily over your waist while some random YouTube video plays in the background.

You’ve been quiet for the last ten minutes. Too quiet.

He shifts. “You okay, angel?”

You glance down at the white stick hidden in the blanket fold between you. Your fingers tremble. Then you blurt it out. “Lix. I think I’m pregnant.”

He blinks. Then blinks again.

“Like… right now?”

You nod.

“Right now now?”

You nod again and hold out the test.

He stares.

“…That’s the kind with the lines, right? Like the ones in movies?”

You laugh. It sounds watery.

“Two lines means yes,” you whisper. “It means we’re—”

Before you can finish the sentence, he’s already sitting up. Fully. Completely. Alert like someone just hit a giant red “you’re about to be a father” button in his brain. “There’s a baby… in there?” He looks down at your belly with eyes so wide they practically sparkle. “Right now? Like—ours?”

You nod again, tearful now.

And he immediately buries his face against your stomach and starts whispering in that low, raspy voice of his. “Hi, little bean. It’s Appa. Or Daddy. We haven’t figured that out yet. But I love you. So much. I haven’t even seen you, and I love you more than anything.”

You start crying for real then. Because of course you do.

Felix pulls himself up to kiss you—everywhere. Forehead, cheeks, lips, nose. All of it soft and gentle, like you’re made of something sacred now. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs. “You’re magic. You’re literally building a person, babe. Like, with your body. That’s the most powerful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You laugh, wiping at your eyes. “What if I get weird cravings turn into a hormonal mess?”

“I will feed you whatever you want,” he promises. “Even if it’s pickles dipped in chocolate and shame. I will oil your belly every night. I will write bedtime songs for the baby starting tonight.”

And then, softer, reverent: “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

You melt into him, into this freckled sunshine that keeps holding your belly like something sacred. And at the same time, all you can think about is that this baby will grow up wrapped in sunshine.

Kim Seungmin

You find him in the kitchen making coffee.

He’s in his weekend hoodie, hair messy, muttering under his breath about how someone (you) finished the oat milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge. Classic Seungmin domesticity.

You hesitate in the doorway. Then: “Hey. I need to tell you something.”

He turns, brow raised. “If it’s about the milk—”

You pull the test out of your pocket and hold it up.

He goes quiet. Completely still. “…What’s that?”

You bite your lip. “It’s… a pregnancy test. It’s positive.”

Seungmin blinks. Twice. His eyes flick from your face to the stick and back again. Then: “Okay,” he says.

Just that. No gasp. No dropped mug. No dramatic reaction.

You stare at him. “Okay?”

He crosses the room. Slowly. Carefully and takes the test from your hand, studies it in total silence. You expect a thousand things. A lecture. A long pause. Maybe even dry sarcasm to ease the tension.

But what you don’t expect… Is the way his voice breaks.

“Is this real?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

You nod, tearfully. “Yeah. It’s real.”

He just stands there, the weight of it sinking in. Then he looks up at you with glassy eyes, and your heart cracks wide open. “I didn’t know I could love anything more than I love you,” he says, voice shaking. “But I think I already do.” That’s when he pulls you into him. Not tight—careful. Like you’re suddenly made of something priceless. One hand ghosts over your stomach. The other wraps around your back.

“I’m gonna be so annoying,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m gonna track every symptom. I’m gonna argue with every doctor. I’m gonna ask a thousand questions until I know exactly how to keep you safe.”

You laugh through your tears. “That sounds about right.”

“I’m not even sorry,” he mutters. “You’re mine. So is the baby. I don’t take chances with the things I love.”

And then he says it. For the first time, out loud. With a quiet breath of wonder: “We’re going to be parents.”

Yang Jeongin

You don’t even mean to tell him today.

You were going to wait. Let it sink in first. Get a doctor’s confirmation. Maybe wrap a tiny baby onesie in a box and watch him open it on camera so you could save the reaction forever.

But he comes home early.

And finds you on the bathroom floor, holding the test in your hand, eyes puffy like you’ve already cried yourself through six different emotional stages.

“Babe?”

You jump. Try to shove the test behind your back like a kid caught stealing cookies.

Too late.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping in, voice instantly soft. Concerned. “Are you sick? Did something happen—?”

You don’t answer. Just… hand him the stick with shaking fingers. He takes it. Looks at it. And then freezes. Like actually freezes. Like, cartoon buffering wheel spinning behind his eyes.

“…This is… is this what I think it is?” he asks.

You nod.

He blinks. “…Are you—?”

You nod again. “Yeah.”

Silence.

“…Like, really really?”

You sniffle. “Yeah, Innie. Really really.”

There’s a pause. A long one.

Then—

He sits down on the floor beside you. Cross-legged. Like you’re on a picnic instead of in a panic.

And he lets out a breath that sounds like everything.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I have no idea what I’m doing. Like, actually zero. I’ve never held a baby. I don’t know how to burp them. I’ve never even changed a diaper. I’m scared out of my mind.”

You nod, already crying again.

“But,” he continues, looking at you now—eyes wide and watery and so full of love—“I want this. I want to learn. I want to do it with you. I want to hold their hand the first time they walk. And cry like a loser when they call me Appa. And panic over every little fever and then call my hyungs crying in the group chat. I want to do it all—with you.”

He cups your face in both hands, gentle and grounding.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom,” he says. “And I’m gonna be annoying and awkward and scared but I’m gonna love you both so much you’ll get sick of me.”

You laugh, hiccuping. “Never.”

“I’ll try anyway.”

Then he kisses you. Sweet, gentle, shaky. His hands tremble a little against your cheeks. When you finally pull apart, he grins, eyes still wet.

“Guess I'm not the maknae anymore,” he says softly, resting his hand on your stomach. “Someone’s coming for my crown.”

[anonity]

paige bueckers' girlfriend

wc: 2600 summary: the phone case launch.. but written a/n: took longer to finish than i meant 😩 i forgot i was going home tomorrow and had to pack. tried to fit as many requests in as i could! (i found the phone case for this fic just in case anyone was curious)

the fudd household is warm even as flakes of snow fall outside, a product of both the woodburning stove and the warm body sprawled across azzi’s legs.

it’s hard to imagine paige anywhere else during the holidays – azzi’s memories of christmas without a blonde in her lap are faint. it’s one of the many, many perks of dating your best friend – they’ve never really had to experience life without the other. 

unfortunately, when your best friend is paige bueckers, there is one downside. fangirls.

azzi is scrolling through redbubble when she sees it – a phone case, white except for loopy pink lettering that reads “paige bueckers’ girlfriend.” 

azzi is completely scandalized. because as far as she’s aware, there is only one position available in that department, and it has been filled since freshman year. really, it’s been filled since they met. 

paige has one girlfriend. and it is azzi fudd. 

this can’t slide.

she huffs once, loud and dramatic enough for paige to hear, but her head doesn’t move from azzis lap. she’s watching a hockey game on her ipad, and there are very few things that will tear paige away from said ipad when there is a game on.

so azzi huffs again, as attention-seekingly as she can muster, and paige finally glances up. “wassup, mama?”

paige is good at using pet names to delay consequences – they’re like little distractions, sprinkled into conversation so that azzi forgets about little things like paige ignoring her for a hockey game.

when azzi doesn’t respond, paige nearly asks again. her mouth opens in confusion, maybe even worried she’d missed something actually important, but then her ipad buzzes. They both glance down, scanning the airdrop notification: Azzi’s Phone wants to share 1 photo.

paiges head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips as if this might be something dirty, and she looks up at azzi with her eyebrows raised. azzi rolls her eyes in response – leave it to paige to never be turned off. “just accept it,” she groans.

the second paige does, a screenshot of the phone case in all of its glory takes over her hockey game. paige barks a laugh, loud and surprised at the intrusion. “az, what the hell is this?”

azzi rolls her eyes, gesturing to the ipad like they aren’t both already looking at it. “your lil fangirls are confused about how many girlfriends you have.”

azzi’s joking now, but one wrong sentence and paige is in the dog house. she must tread carefully. 

“they’re definitely overestimating,” paige agrees.

satisfied with that response, azzi leans back into the sofa with mock-irritation. “i think they’re underestimating how much i can bench,” she complains. “i’m gonna have to whoop somebody's ass.”

“nobody underestimates how much you bench, baby,” paige responds. she stretches back for extra emphasis, wrapping three fingers around azzis bicep and squeezing. “swear, look at that. god damn–”

azzi snorts, ducking her head in embarrassment.. “paige,” she chastises, even though her laughter overshadows any actual irritation.  it’s stupid how pleased she is whenever paige reassures her, especially over something unimportant. “its not funny.”

the room quiets for a second, the way it always does before paige says something particularly annoying. and then, unsurprisingly, her mouth opens. “imma buy it for you.”

“don’t, paige,” azzi giggles, even though it’s really not funny. paige is a PR nightmare. “CD would die.”

“CD will love it,” paige assures, already copying the users handle. “we’re supporting small businesses.”

azzi watches her, helplessly fond even as paige clicks add to cart. it’s not like she’s going to use it.

azzi had not planned on using the phone case. in fact, said phone case has sat unused on her bedside table since her and paige had returned from christmas break. 

a lot has changed since christmas – they’re national champions now, and paige is in dallas, just to name a few. but one thing has stayed the same: the phone case? untouched. nothing more than tangled legs and quiet laughter. 

that is, until azzi gets as close as she possibly can to hard launching their relationship, and there are still tweets stuttering out the words former teammates. 

it’s honestly diabolical. and while over christmas break their college careers were kind of a concern, there are no rules in the UCONN Husky handbook about dating former teammates. something paige has recently become. 

so, for shits and giggles on a friday night, azzi fudd switches her phone case out for one that reads paige bueckers’ girlfriend. 

her intention is only to ruffle some feathers. to quietly but clearly stake her claim. take a few photos with a strategically placed iphone in hand, let it appear in the background of some videos – really just remind everyone that paige bueckers only has one actual girlfriend.

now, the uconn team is heading down the halls of mohegan sun, chattering quietly and discussing dinner plans. 

KK notices before the national media does – whether the media or KK is worse is still up for debate. her eye catches on the phone dangling from azzis hand and she grins, delighted. “girl, boo. are you even allowed to have that?”

azzi’s confused for all of two seconds, and then her gaze follows KK’s. “we’re former teammates,” she states matter-of-factly. they both know its bullshit — azzi had arrived 45 minutes late and two travel bags lighter that morning.

(she’d argued it wasn’t a walk of shame if she left in different clothes, even though the “different clothes” were paiges jersey and cargos.)

“you guys are super subtle,” KK deadpans.

for the rest of the night, azzi is super subtle about it. she walks down the seats of the stadium without fuss (although she does make sure that her hand is low enough for the lettering to be read). she sits casually, nonchalantly, phone sitting case-up in her lap. 

unfortunately, the night passes without drama. it appears no one actually sees the phone case – unless you count two girls across their row, one of which had blatantly squinted and then elbowed her friend. 

regardless of the sightings, there are no images (that azzi is aware of) to spread the news. with all of the huskies in the stands, security had tightened considerably, and there’d been exactly zero fans able to approach for a photo.

(although azzi did have one fan pass a phone case down for her to sign. KK had suggested she trade them, but they’d quickly decided that would be a tad overkill.)

the post-game plan is even more nonchalant. they’re going to run down, grab a few team pictures, be totally besties, and then head back to storrs. 

although, as they make their way down to the gym floor and paige catches her eye, azzi feels that nervous buzzing in her stomach. 

every time her and paige are around each other in public, that awkward, crushing teenager feeling returns. she imagines paige feels the same — it’s kind of difficult to turn off the whole touchy-girlfriends thing in public, and the tense awareness of hundreds of eyes only makes them overthink each interaction more. am i being chill enough? too chill? 

azzi stands off to the side as paige greets the rest of the team, trying not to fiddle or look like she’s been walking around with undiagnosed ADHD. 

when the arena is finally mostly empty, paige approaches, a lazy smile taking over her face. the second she’s in touching distance, azzi wraps her hands around paiges waist and buries her head in her neck. she breathes in the scent of her #1 pick and paige lets her, head coming to lay on azzi’s shoulder and tug her just a little closer. perhaps they can meld together, and azzi won’t have to leave for storrs.

physics does not decide to give them an exception. they pull away when KK makes a loud gagging noise behind them, and paige rolls her eyes affectionately. “you’re just mad your girlfriends not in your jersey,” paige says, tugging on the material. 

KK grins. “oh, she’s got more than just your jersey, P.”

paige squints. azzi’s forehead creases – she’s been so wrapped up in seeing paige again she’s completely forgotten the phone case, and it isn’t until this moment that paige sees it.

“what the hell is that?” she laughs, eyes wide with both horror and giddiness. “i can’t even believe you kept that thing!”

azzi giggles back, delighted, and holds her phone case up with a dimpled grin. “isn’t it great?”

“i can’t believe they even let you bring that.”

“i don’t think anyone saw it,” azzi replies. “security wouldn’t even let people come up to us.”

paige raises an eyebrow. “that’s their job, az.”

“i know,” azzi sighs, as if she’s deeply troubled by the whole ordeal. “they’re just really interrupting my soft launch plans.”

paige laughs, throwing an arm around her shoulder like the two minutes they haven’t been touching is too long. “my phones pretty quiet,” she says, “so, prob��ly no one saw it. crisis averted.”

azzi hums, briefly considering the idea that there would be a crisis if someone had seen the phone case. she then responds quietly, “unfortunately.”

paige raises an eyebrow, smile ever-present in the orbit of her girlfriend. “what do you mean, unfortunately?”

“i mean, unfortunately i’m going to have to take this into my own hands.”

azzi fudd’s hobbies include basketball, reading, calling paige, and soft launching their relationship on random saturdays.

to her credit, she waits an entire day before she actually takes matters into her own hands – but when the internet is disappointingly quiet about her phone case, she has no other choice.

hayley is fixing her hair when the idea hits her. they’re chattering about life — basketball, her next sponsor, the upcoming mystics game. hayley hums and runs a comb through the ends of azzis hair, resting one hand on her shoulder to look in the mirror. “soo.. after tonight, you doing anything fun?”

azzi catches her eye in the reflection and grins. “depends on how many people are texting me.”

“why would people be texting you?”

it’s then that azzi flips her phone around, screen facing the mirror, and showcases her perfectly legible paige bueckers’ girlfriend phone in all of it’s redbubble-custom glory. “oh my God,” hayley suddenly laughs, leaning forward like the text might morph into something else. it’s honestly nearly impossible to miss, bold lettering on white background. “that cannot be real. where did you even get that?”

azzi smiles, self-satisifed. “paige bought it for me.”

hayley gasps. “stop it.” 

azzi nods her head vigorously, biting down on her bottom lip to stop the delighted grin already overtaking her face again. “she told me not to use it.”

“and you already did,” hayley says, pointing an accusatory comb in the mirror. 

“duh,” azzi replies. “nobody even got to see it, though,” she adds, sighing wistfully. “i don’t even think twitter saw it.”

“seriously?”

azzi nods vehemently. the chances of twitter missing anything are seriously low. but alas, here azzi is, with a dreadfully quiet phone.

and then she thinks – a dangerous action for azzi fudd.

“we should take a picture.”

“with the phone case?”

“in the mirror.”

“ooooohhhh,” hayley nods, smile widening. “i get it.”

azzi crosses her legs, uncrosses them, and then crosses them again, inspecting herself in the mirror. “i’ll tag you,” she offers, offhandedly. 

“i don’t want tagged in your relationship drama,” hayley grins. “i’m going to get one of paiges managers in my DMs.”

“you wooooont” azzi groans. “you’re gonna be my excuse.”

“you’re conniving.”

“i’m being smart,” azzi defends. “i’m gonna tag you for doing my hair and if people happen to notice—“

“it’s neon pink, az.”

“happen to notice,” azzi emphasizes. they both break off into giggles, and then azzi straightens in her seat. “okay, lets do this.”

azzi shifts again, looking for a good angle. changes the way her phone is pointing, tries to decide if she wants it to be easy to read or leave part of the text to the imagination. 

she sees hayley raise an eyebrow in the mirror. “you good?”

azzi shuffles. “i’m nervous,” she admits. it sounds silly, girlish coming out of her mouth, but she’s being real. “this shits gonna go viral.”

hayley nods slowly like she’s pondering, and then she looks away from the mirror to see azzi eye-to-eye. “except everybody already knows you’re dating.”

azzi sputters. “that is not true—“

“that dinner tiktok had like a million likes.”

“okay but—“

“az. for real.” hayley huffs, going back to absentmindedly dragging through azzis curls. “if you wanna do it, do it.”

azzi hums. considers. and then decides. “okay, you’re right. lets do it.”

the picture, when posted, is casual. her legs are crossed and hayley smiles behind her like she’s in on a joke. which, she kind of is.  

azzi decided to completely forgo being subtle — a blind animal should be able to read the paige bueckers’ girlfriend on her phone case. 

a minute passes.

azzi had put her phone on do not disturb the second she’d posted — it’s her adult version of throwing her phone across the room. but one person can get through her DND, and her phone buzzes now. 

paige 💗is calling…

azzi looks back at hayley, guiltily, who returns the stare with tight, barely concealed laughter.  

then paifes voice cuts in. “azzi.”

“hi, baby,” azzi says sweetly. her phone buzzes again, paige requesting to facetime, and azzi reluctantly accepts it. when she does, paige is (thankfully) smiling. her azzi-fudd reserved smile. azzis shoulders slump. not in trouble. 

paige raises both eyebrows, eyes wide as she stares at azzi. “you tryna start some rumors?”

“they were already started,” azzi grins back. 

“riiiight..” paige drawls. “i think people are freaking out.”

“what makes you think that?”

“i got a text about your post before i saw your post,” paige deadpans. “and i literally have your notifications on.”

azzi giggles, feeling quite self-satisfied. “i told you i had to do something about it.”

“i thought you’d like — like a tiktok edit or something,” paige jokes. “we’re gonna be on overtime.”

“you’re always on overtime,” azzi points out, helpfully. 

paige just stares back, looking fond and in love. “you looked pretty.”

“you’re just saying that because i have your name on my phone,” azzi laughs. 

“well, i’m not saying it didn’t help,” paige responds, head tilted. from anyone else's point of view, it would be an absolutely disgusting display of affection. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” azzi says. 

hayley finally announces her presence, interrupting their discussion with an, “i hate you guys.”

paige groans from the phone. “you didn’t tell me anyone was thereee,” she complains. “now i look like a softie.”

“that was never in question for me, paige,” hayley laughs, peeking over azzi’s shoulder to look at her. “i had to listen to you all draft night.”

paige rolls her eyes, even as azzi laughs. “aight, you’re fired bruh.” then she looks back over to azzi, her eyes crinkled in the way that they do when she’s trying not to look too smitten. she fails. 

“alright,” she sighs. “i’m gonna hang up so you can make my girlfriend look really good.” and then, after a pause, adds, “call me after?”

“always,” azzi nods, so quietly that hayley pretends not to hear it. 

the call ends. 

hayley lets them sit in the quiet for all of five seconds. then she inhales deeply and reaches for a new section of hair. “alright,” she says, effectively dragging azzi back to reality. “lets fix your hair so you can go stress your agents out.”

and as azzi finally swipes her notification bar open, eyes scanning over all of her group chats and dm’s — she just smiles. 

[raevpng]

only you (pt. 2)

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

pt. 1

summary: everyone tunes in when they share a court — paige bueckers and azzi fudd, former team mates, once golden duo, turned wnba rivals. they were the perfect match on court, and no one could deny it. but no one knows what goes on under the surface of competition and rivalry, not even them.

a/n: hey lovelies! in honour of dallas’ win today here’s the second chapter :) idk if i like this but ill edit it when im awake 😭 as always lmk what u think and enjoy <3

there’s a different kind of buzz that you get only after a game is won.

there’s a lazy satisfaction that thrums under your skin, a kind of heavy warmth that settles in your chest and refuses to leave. it’s the payoff. the reward. every late-night gym session, every clean meal, every quiet hour of mental prep finally cashing out into a win. you feel it in your pulse. you feel it in your bones.

and yeah, a little ego boost too.

cause she fucking did it.

azzi fudd beat paige bueckers.

and sure, it wasn’t the first time. definitely wouldn’t be the last. but still. a win’s a win.

and this one? buzzer beater, all eyes watching, three-pointer in her face?

that one deserves a celebration.

and if there’s anything she does well, it’s celebrate.

–

the club was full of bodies, almost as if the world wanted to celebrate with them. the atmosphere was electric, thick with heat and light and bass. bodies press against one another under neon strobes, laughter spilling out over pounding music. drinks are flowing, her teammates were going wild, limbs flailing, voices hoarse from the win and whatever was poured in their shots.

pure chaos, but god she loves it.

she giggled as her teammates reenacted her winning shot, heart warming at how silly her friends were and at the compliments and praises thrown her way.

azzi sat on the high stool near the bar, some fruity vodka in hand, ice clinking softly against the glass as she giggled at some stupid drunken story. her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol or from laughter maybe, braids loosely flowing down her shoulders, cropped top clinging from the warmth of the crowd. she’s loose in a way she rarely allows herself, spine relaxed, shoulders dropped, that tiny smile pulling at her mouth that no one but her closest people ever really gets to see.

aaliyah was perched next to her, long legs crossed as she kept an eye on her best friend while simultaneously getting shit-faced. "this how we party after a win?" she shouts over the music, grinning.

azzi just lifts her glass with a smirk, tilting her head. "damn right."

but then it happens.

just slightly. like a cold breeze slipping in through a cracked door.

somewhere between a sip and a laugh, the energy in the room shifts. subtle – not something you’d notice if you weren’t paying attention.

aaliyah catches it first. her eyes scan the entrance and sure enough, there she is.

standing there, black tee, necklace glinting, arms crossed with a scowl already carved into her face – paige bueckers.

paige and her best friends.

"fucking hell," aaliyah mutters.

azzi doesn’t see her yet. too tipsy, too wrapped up in the buzz of her own victory.

“uh az, wanna get another drink?” aaliyah elbowed her best friend, sensing that whatever the fuck happened on that court was definitely gonna start something if she didn’t do some sort of damage control.

azzi, bless her soul didn’t seem to notice the commotion that they brought in just by appearing.

“hell yeah!” azzi exclaimed, visibly tipsy in the dazed look in her eyes and the heaviness present in her movements.

on the other side of the club, kayla and nika had hurriedly gone to order their first round of drinks, leaving paige to settle in on a booth.

paige doesn't sit so much as she drops. her body is stiff, her jaw tight. she doesn't join in on the laughter. she doesn't look anywhere except across the room.

"oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me," paige mutters, her voice dry, more to herself than anyone else. her friends are laughing and talking around her, but she’s still as stone, eyes locked on the girl at the bar.

because of course she’s here.

because of course she looks like that.

azzi feels it before she sees it.

sees her.

azzi’s head turns. her eyes land on the paige’s.

and whatever it is, maybe the alcohol in pulsing through her veins, or maybe just pure hatred and pettiness. she scoffed before breaking the eye contact.

you wanna look?

go ahead, look.

she let her fingers run through her hair, collecting them on one side to show the expanse of her neck. she moves slowly, as if she knows she has an audience, and leans forward to start a conversation with the guy next to her, laughing softly at his jokes.

it’s calculated. measured. sharp-edged.

paige doesn’t move from her spot, arms still folded tight over her chest, jaw clenched. she watches azzi lean back, lets her head tip, exposes her throat to the crowd and the lights and the man beside her.

it makes something in paige’s chest clench.

because paige? she knows the difference between real and fake. and this? this is azzi performing. dancing. flaunting. and she hates how easily she falls into that rhythm. how effortlessly she makes herself look untouchable.

she knows that she’s moving different now.

more exaggerated. more fluid. hips swinging just a little wider. hands brushing against shoulders, fingers playing with straws in drinks.

she’s performing.

and as some guy with a smirk too deep and hands too brave neared, azzi embraced it. she let him get close, let herself smile in the way she knew reeled others, let her arm rest on his shoulder as his putrid cologne filled her nose.

she was performing, for who – she didn’t know. didn’t want to.

but this feeling? the feeling of paige’s eyes burning on her back and the guy in front of her looking at her almost in a breathless kind of worship?

she hated how much she adored it.

aaliyah watches the whole thing with narrowed eyes, taking another sip of her drink.

she and azzi had been close during their time at uconn. they remained close when she got drafted to mystics first but ultimately got the closest when azzi got drafted to the same team. and yeah, she saw what everyone else saw – that paige and azzi had been so close to mysteriously never speak again.

but she was observant, always was and always will be. and she recognised the pattern of azzi’s excuses and sudden need to leave everytime paige’s name was even mentioned. yeah, it was probably best to stay clear. she had chalked it up to best friend’s drifting, maybe even a fight.

but now? as she sat there watching azzi move her hips against a guy while paige drilled holes at the back of her head?

she wasn’t too sure.

still, azzi was her best friend. and the guy was very quickly becoming bold and handsy.

she walks over to the younger, voice low in azzi’s ear. “you good?”

“i’m great,” azzi says, a little too fast.

aaliyah lifts a brow. “uh huh.”

but azzi is already back to it, swaying into the beat, laughing at something the guy next to her says, fingers tugging playfully at his collar.

and paige?

she hasn’t moved. she still sat stiffly across the room as her friends drank up and flirted with their own guys perched next to them.

and aaliyah didn’t know whether to laugh or be scared at the lack of emotion in her former teammate’s eyes.

the bass gets heavier. the drinks flow faster. the night starts to blur around the edges. and azzi is buzzing.

her head tips back, mouth open in a laugh, that guy’s hand on her waist now. and she lets him. not because she wants to, but because someone’s watching. she can feel the stare on her like a second skin.

but then the guy shifts.

his hand moves a little lower. he leans in too close, breath hot and heavy against her neck. he says something she doesn’t catch, something that makes her face shift in a flash.

aaliyah sees it.

stands up to protest.

and then suddenly.

“yo.”

paige’s voice cuts through the music like a blade. the music doesn’t stop, but it feels like it does. feels like everyone halted. feels like all the air in the room got sucked out.

azzi’s eyes snap up just as paige steps between them, arm sliding out in one clean, practiced motion, pushing the guy’s chest back.

“back off.”

the guy blinks, surprised. then scoffs. “you serious?”

“i said back off,” paige repeats, firmer. she doesn’t even look at him. her eyes are on azzi.

azzi’s breath stutters.

the guy backs up, muttering something under his breath and disappearing into the crowd. paige doesn’t move. doesn’t drop her arm.

“you good?” she asks, voice tight. like she hates even having to say it.

azzi stares at her.

then her expression changes.

eyes harden. lips part. a slow scoff leaves her chest as she takes a step forward — not toward her, but past her — shoulder brushing paige’s arm in a hard, deliberate shove.

“don’t fucking touch me,” she mutters.

paige flinches like she’s been slapped.

azzi keeps walking. doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back. disappears into the crowd, body tense, spine stiff, like the only thing keeping her upright is her rage.

aaliyah stands frozen a few feet away, mouth parted, drink forgotten in her hand.

because damn.

that wasn’t nothing.

that was history unfolding.

–

“paige, you good? what was that?”

paige doesn’t move.

not even when the music swells again, not when the guy disappears into the dark, not even when azzi walks away without looking back.

she just stands there.

chest rising, fists clenched, heart still hammering from whatever the hell just happened.

“paige.”

finally, kayla grabs her shoulder, snapping her out of it.

“what the hell was that about?” her voice is sharp, confused but not surprised. “you looked damn ready to fight that guy.”

“nothing.” paige mutters, eyes now fixed on some random spot on the wall, anywhere but where azzi had just been. “he was being a dick,”

“sure,” kayla says, narrowing her eyes. “but you don’t know him. hell, i thought you didn’t know her that well?”

“don’t need to.”

“be serious. you don’t get in guys’ faces like that for strangers.”

that gets paige’s attention.

her head jerks toward kayla. “she isn’t-” she stops. “it wasn’t a big deal.”

kayla’s brows lift. “uh-huh.”

the rest of the crew starts to gather near the exit, talking about calling it a night. a few throw glances paige’s way — some confused, some amused — but no one says anything out loud. not yet.

someone makes a joke about how paige’s ‘hero complex’ is back.

“you get one buzzer-beater hit on you and you’re back to being in your feelings,” someone teases with a laugh.

paige doesn’t laugh.

she grabs her jacket off the back of the booth and shrugs it on with a grunt, brushing past them toward the door.

“fuck her,” she mumbles under her breath. “bitch acts like she didn’t- whatever.”

“what’d you say?” kayla asks from behind, trying to catch up.

“nothing,” paige mutters again, brushing her fingers through her ponytail as they step out into the cold night air.

the temperature hits instantly — sharp, biting. the kind of cold that finds its way past clothes and into bone. it’s late. the street is mostly empty, cars rolling past slow, bass from the club muffled behind the door now swinging shut.

her friends start peeling off. one calling an uber, two others heading toward their parked car down the block.

paige walks toward hers, head low, keys already in her hand.

until she sees her.

azzi.

standing alone near the curb, phone in hand, thumb swiping across the screen, teeth biting into her bottom lip like she’s too tired to be pissed but too pissed to let it show.

and paige pretends she doesn’t stare at the action for a second too long.

she’s wearing a tiny leather jacket that’s clearly not built for this weather, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders tense. her breath clouds the air in front of her. she looks miserable.

walk away paige. you’ve done enough bullshit for one night

“you waiting for a ride or hoping the cold finishes you off first?” paige calls out.

damn it.

azzi doesn’t even look up. she knows that voice. “oh, fuck off.”

“you’re welcome,” paige mutters, already stepping closer.

azzi sighs and finally lifts her head. “you stupid? i said, fuck off.”

“yeah, you did,” paige says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, eyes flicking to the street. “and yet, still no ride.”

“my uber’s coming.”

“your phone’s dead.”

“lili’s picking me up”

azzi glares. paige stays.

she mutters something under her breath that paige can’t catch.

paige steps closer, standing just a little too near to be comfortable. azzi physically flinches.

“don’t be stubborn. get in. i’ll drive you.”

azzi scoffs full on, like it physically disgusted her. “i’d genuinely rather die in this cold than get in the car with you.”

“great,” paige says dryly, stepping around her and opening the passenger door anyway. “you can freeze your ass off and die dramatically. or you can take a ten-minute drive in silence.”

azzi doesn’t move.

“azzi fudd, age twenty-seven, dies outside bar because she’s fucking stupid.”

“kill yourself.” azzi rolled her eyes, standing up to walk away.

paige grabs her arm, halting her actions.

“fine, sorry. i’ll shut up. i’ll drive, won’t even look at you.”

“paige bueckers apologizing? that’s new.” azzi scoffed, the words bringing a sharp pain to the blonde’s chest.

“az.”

the nickname slips out before she can stop it.

azzi’s eyes flash.

yet she doesn’t yell, doesn’t roll her eyes.

instead, she exhales.

long. slow. tired.

“don’t call me that.”

but she climbs into the passenger seat without another word, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

paige rolls her eyes, walks around, starts the car.

the heater kicks in with a low hum, and they sit in silence, headlights cutting through the empty road ahead.

no questions on where to go, what street to pull into.

for a moment, the only sound is the gentle drum of azzi’s fingers on her knee.

paige sneaks a glance.

azzi’s staring out the window. her lashes are heavy. her expression unreadable.

paige’s knuckles tighten on the wheel.

“seatbelt,” she mutters.

azzi clicks it in without a word.

and they drive.

not a sound exchanged. not a glance shared. just the two of them and the hum of the engine.

because that’s what they are now.

and when they pull up in front of azzi’s apartment, she unbuckles the seatbelt and leaves with a slam of the door.

paige just drives.

pretends like it didn’t bother her.

–

the door clicks shut behind her with a sound too loud for her apartment.

the silence that greets her is deafening — a stark contrast to the pounding music and heat of the club. here, everything is still. too still. her boots echo across the hardwood as she walks further in.

azzi sighs, ignoring the echo in the quiet space around her as she tries to ground herself. the thoughts were too loud, the mess in her head were too messy, her heartbeat in her ears doing nothing to ground her.

warm yellow light spills across the room, as she turned on a lamp. soft and muted, catching on framed photos and trophies and jerseys. reminders. shadows of all the versions of her that used to exist.

god, she wishes life was still that simple.

she walks past a framed photo of the uconn team — paige’s senior year, azzi under her arm as she looked at her like she hung the stars.

back when she still cared.

she slams it face down as she walks by, fishing out her phone as she plops shakily down her couch. jacket thrown hastily over the other side, boots dropped on the floor beside her. she ignored the nagging in her head to clean. couldn’t care enough to actually get up.

her shoulders drop as she sits on the edge of the couch, eyes fixed on nothing, hands idle in her lap.

everything catches up to her all at once.

the win. the shots. the heat. the moment she turned her head and saw her.

her chest feels too tight.

and fuck, she hates that. hates her.

because it should’ve been over. it was over. they made sure of that.

she leans forward, elbows to knees, hands covering her face.

fuck, azzi. get it together.

she groans, dropping her head lower into her hands, letting her fingers push against her scalp like she can physically shove the memories out.

and without thinking, without really deciding, she grabs her phone from her purse, screen lighting up her tired face, and taps the contact already burned into muscle memory.

it barely rings three times before she picks up, grogginess evident in her voice.

“azzi? you okay?”

azzi swallows. her voice is small. “caroline, can you talk?”

there was only the sound of sheets rustling for a beat, caroline sitting up azzi assumes.

“yeah always, what’s wrong?”

azzi presses her lips together, doesn’t know where to start. doesn’t even really want to talk about it. but something in her chest is too full, and she knows if she doesn’t let a little bit of it out, it’ll tear her open.

“i saw her tonight,” she says finally.

caroline doesn’t ask who. doesn’t need to.

“at the club,” azzi adds, eyes glued to the floor. “she was there. with her friends. and i was just- i don’t even know, i was fine, i was celebrating and then suddenly she’s-” her voice cracks. “she was right beside me pushing off some guy.”

silence.

“and i don’t know what’s wrong with me because i shouldn’t care, right?” azzi continues, “this is some stupid shit that happened – what? five years ago?”

caroline only hums, silent but clearly listening.

“and she means nothing to me now. she does.”

“az…”

“no really. i don’t give a shift about her, or what she does, or who she thinks she is.”

“okay.” caroline says softly, almost like a parent gently parenting a child.

azzi leans back on the couch, lets her head fall against the cushion. she blinks hard at the ceiling, like if she stares long enough, the confusion might evaporate.

“azzi, i need you to be honest. do you think she misses you?”

the second the words left her mouth, azzi couldn’t stop the bark of laughter from escaping her lips.

“hell no.”

“azzi.”

“no, caroline. she hates me. probably just wanted to get back at me for beating her tonight.”

caroline doesn’t say anything.

“whatever,” azzi mutters, suddenly tired of the whole conversation. “i don’t care what she feels.”

“you sure?”

azzi only hums, drawing a sigh from her friend.

“well, you know i’m always here for whatever you need, right?”

azzi softens at the words, feeling like she can finally breathe for the first time for the night. “yeah, thanks caroline. for everything.”

“always.”

and then she ends the call.

the screen goes black again. her reflection stares back — eyes glassy, jaw tight.

she sinks further into the couch cushions, lets the silence take her again.

you’re better than this, she thought to herself.

“i’m not doing this shit again.” she said out loud, standing up to walk to her bedroom almost with a new burst of energy.

cause azzi was better than paige. she has to be.

and as she changes to her favourite tee and boxers, shuts the light and lets herself drift. lets herself forget, lets herself rest.

and as she drifts to sleep, thoughts finally quieting, she doesn’t notice the new notification lighting up her phone.

paige bueckers has started to follow you.

[spaceyaemonds]

oh GOD stop I love it! Your mind!!!!

"she still gets extremely frustrated with him (like when he goes a day or two without calling, missing t-ball games, etc.). but i completely agree that they (especially him!) are so SO flirty with one another!"

plsssss I love this dynamic, there's so much to explore!! Her being pissed Robby hasn't called because their kid likes to tell him goodnight and recap their day, or how he kinda stumbles being a dad, like maybe he volunteered to bring something to the t-ball game and forgot the t-ball game entirely (picked up a shift). And his volunteering kinda came out of a clumsy way to really integrate himself and prove to her he's trying to do better which makes it more of a yikes.

And Dylan!!! Yes, like she has so much love and affection for this man but let's be foreallll she and Robby went at it like animals which is why they ended up with their bundle of joy meanwhile Dylan gets kisses on the cheeks for the first week/let's keep our own space for now engagement...lolllll.

Like I can just imagine Dana, not amused with either party, like she probably hears all of Robby's bitching about Dylan, thinks this guy is the worst and then when she comes to meet him (they meet due to a freak incident, the kid breaks his arm while at the park and Dylan was a bit distracted because he saw a prized bird and he just had to take a photo and upload it to his bird-er groupchat so they're at PTMC) and just laughs because he is like anti-Robby. He fumbles, super clumsy but very endearing kinda like Whittaker but no cool moments-which makes it double hilarious because in normal circumstances he might actually like Dylan. And all the staff is just watching the trainwreck of Robby trying to play cool, Dylan fumbling apologizing and Reader trying to be calm for her kid. Some of the staff who like don't know her probably only call her Robby's wife, or the ex so its just super awkward.

But Dana is like an all seeing eye and also calls out reader for leading poor Dylan on, like the funny red flag of being engaged while living apart (still hilarious lol) and how she and Robby are still like deeply attracted to each and everyone can see except maybe Dylan. Dana is like "Dylan is really nice but it'd be like having two kids"

also just picturing a rom-com (more comedy) moment where Robby is feeling hella jealous because his kid and dylan are really bonding and playing (they both have the same interests) and Robby kinda tries to play too, or kinda tries to assert his bond with his kid but ends up pinching a nerve in his back and goes down, cut to him with a bruised ego and his kid trying to massage his back better as he lies face down on the couch (mom to the rescue with a heat pad)

also would love to see the lore of how they get together, i'd like to think a lot of their relationship at least intially was their crazy chemistry, like crazy carnal appetite for eachother, and it just being easy being with one another...until it isn't

hi friend!!!!!

i am so glad you liked it!!! ahhh!!! let me answer this in parts!!!

there really is SO much to explore with them!!!

referenced post

1) i think robby really means well, it’s not like he doesn’t call on purpose, he’s just so physically exhausted when he gets home from work, and more often than not he’s also mentally exhausted. unfortunately, he just forgets sometimes :(. and she always remembers to let him have it, not to make him feel shitty, necessarily, but just enough so he feels guilty if that makes sense?? like she knows he loves their son (ryan), she just wants him to show it.

i think he volunteers for t-ball stuff maybe because ryan offhandedly mentions that dylan helps with the team snacks. like robby just says “well i could help coach” or something. when they mention it to reader, she says they should start small, with actually coming to games and being consistent with that first. not in a passive aggressive way either, just because she knows robby is so busy, and that would take more effort than she honestly thinks he has to give. which, again, she unfortunately is right. he makes probably 5/9 games, which is great, and ryan is so excited, but he misses two that he promised to be at because the ED was short staffed. but she can tell he’s trying, and it really hurts him not to be there.

2) OMG DO NOT GET ME STARTED!!! i think they (reader and robby) met at a coffee shop, and it was just pure passion from the moment they met. they were CONSTANTLY fucking (for lack of better words LOL). it’s more surprising that they only had the one kid during their relationship than anything!! i think dylan was a co-worker (who took a promotion to a different department so they could date) who always really liked her, but never made a move until well after she and robby broke up. he knows that there’s a lot, a lot of damage and (again for lack of better words) issues from that relationship, so he knows things are going to be slow and a little non traditional. but at the same time, it all still stings a little. like he’s there, he’s present, and she’s got his ring on her finger (something michael never did). why won’t she fully give herself to him and trust him?

3) DANA!! she gets really annoyed with robby, like she definitely thinks he’s just talking shit, but also, like you said, thinks dylan just has to be the absolute worst (to an extent, she knows reader pretty well). then he comes in with ryan, awkward and fumbling while wearing khaki shorts with binoculars around his neck as he awkwardly asks for robby, and she genuinely has to hold herself together once she realizes exactly who this man is. robby’s that jealous of this guy?

i imagine whitaker and king are the ones in the room helping out. so they awkwardly look between reader who is biting her nails as she sits on the bed, robby who looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel, and dylan who looks one second away from throwing up. he also keeps apologizing, which they can tell pisses robby off more than anything. he’s fighting back shitty comments about why he wasn’t watching him in the first place, but keeps them to himself when he sees how distressed reader is. it gets extremely awkward when king takes ryan for x-rays, and whitaker is awkwardly stuck in there with the three of them. he called her mrs. robinavitch like four times, and it just makes it worse.

4)dana does definitely call her out!! she can see the way she clings a little closer to robby, and at first she thinks it may be the nerves, but one too many times she sees the look in her eyes when she looks at robby. they have quick chat, and it does get reader thinking about a lot of things, because i think she’s the first person to call her out on it.

5) AHHH OHMYGOSH!!! i can’t think of a scenario for this so we’ll just look at the aftermath LOL. robby, laying facedown on the couch, wounded pride but also actually a little down and genuinely wanting to just leave. he knew the kid liked dylan, but didn’t really realize how much, ya know. ryan, poor boy, cries because his dad is hurt, and that makes it so much worse, the poor boy just sobbing lightly while rubbing his dads back softly. reader comes in just in time, with a heating pad and icyhot, telling the boy to go find some water while she takes over, rubbing the icyhot into his back. it shouldn’t make him feel like it does, but neither of them say anything to acknowledge it.

6) i can (and plan on) really diving into this)!!! there’s definitely a lot of lore for them, between their relationship, having a baby, the break up, robby and heather, reader and dylan. there is SO much we can get into with this!!!

[twilightofthesandwiches]

I wonder if it'll be revealed in a future chapter how the castle town fountain came to be. Assuming a lightner made it while in the light world, like all the other fountains, it'd be expected that there'd be darkners from the school supplies or even just dust bunnies, but instead it was almost completely empty, so what if it was opened from the other side, where the darkness comes from? The area in the beginning of chapter 3 reminded me of the ???? area in chapter 1, except it lacked the oozing darkness found in ????

I assume we're gonna find out what's up with it eventually, because it just raises... so many questions. Like you said, it definitely does not operate like a normal Dark Fountain. In Chapter 2, Ralsei describes it as a Fountain of "Pure Darkness" and explains that this why any Darkner can stay there without turning to Stone. Presumably that's also why it's not themed after a School Supply Closet, and why Ralsei himself is immune to petrification. It's what a Dark World would be if it was created without any further influence from the Light World........

But that still raises, well, the question you asked, how is a 'Pure' Grand Fountain created? And how long has this Alternative Universe of Pure Darkness been hiding in the school? How has no one noticed it before Susie and Kris came along?

Assuming it's a Dark World created from inside another Dark World might be a decent guess as to why it's Darkness is more 'pure'.... but we've actually seen a Dark Fountain been created inside an existing Dark World in Chapter 4, and that didn't seem to make another Castle Town... instead, it created a Titan.

I've considered the possibility that the Grand Fountain of Castle Town is a Fountain of 'Pure Darkness' because it wasn't opened by a Lightner, or by anyone at all. It's some sort of naturally-formed spontaneous Fountain, created through a manipulation of chance by the will of the Prophecy itself, for the sake of pulling the Chosen Heroes into the Dark World.

That might at least answer why this Alternative Imagination of Pure Darkness and Dream Magic wasn't discovered earlier. And it might also explain why Ralsei, a Darkner created from that same Fountain, was born with Perfect Knowledge of the Prophecy, and why Castle Town is much heavier on the Delta Rune symbol-spam than any other Dark World we've seen.... including the Literal Church.

But since the concept of a Dark Fountain naturally-occurring or created by any process except a Lightner Stabbing the Magic Out of the Ground has not yet been established by the narrative… this is still a VERY speculative idea…

And yeah, I also noticed how much the parts of TV World that exist 'outside the studio' are very similar to ?????.

But also, like you said, there are some distinctive differences between the two. Stuff like the oozing darkness and the strange eye symbols…

...Which are also features of the Titans.

So I think maybe this 'Dark Fountain inside a Dark World' idea does have some merit...

But that still doesn't really explain the connection to TV World... My first thought upon starting Chapter 3 is that this might be a general Dark World representation of the concept of dust or neglect or emptiness... According to NPC dialogue, that part of TV World is known as the 'Couch Cliffs'

So they seem to represent Tenna's total lack of an audience, maybe?

But also other NPC dialogue in TV World mentions how there used to be a 'Great Wilderness' in this Dark World that seems to correspond to other features of the Dreemurrs' house.

The purple cliffs are the aforementioned 'Couch Cliffs', the frozen waste would be the fridge, the watery basin is the sink and the metal desert is the oven.

(They also correspond to, and are put in the order of, the four main Zones in Undertale; the Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall and Hotland. Made even more obvious by Shuttah's use of the phrase 'once upon a time'. For the sake of not diving into a SECOND huge-ass rabbit-hole of speculation I am going to just assume this is just a cute reference)

So this seems to be the explanation to why TV World is even a world of TV in the first place, rather than a landscape based on all the different elements in the house. It used to be a much more diverse and wild world based on the Dreemurr's living room and kitchen in general... but Tenna's studio syphoned away all the Darkners and all life of that world, leaving behind just his artificial paradise and the strange wasteland beyond.

So... what would that say about the wilderness outside of Castle Town? Did that used to be an actual Supply Closed Dark World until Castle Town was built 'atop it' in a similar manner? And if so... what DID Castle Town take from the original Dark World considering it's all but empty when we first see it?

And that's not even getting into the fact that Shuttah's last piece of exposition about the Couch Cliffs and TV World's past ends like this.

Which... my first thought when reading it was that this is another Divorce Thing. The Darkners who left because they refused to sign Tenna's contracts are actually Asgore's things that left the house when he did, the Flower King shop is 'the Far Land' and this will probably get a follow-up in Chapter 5.

But... with Shuttah's grammar suddenly breaking down at the end there... and the fact that they're found just next to one of the rooms needed to complete the Egg Quest of this Chapter...

...It's actually quite possible that whatever is up with both ???? and the Castle Cliffs is related to the Man.

We've got a lot of questions, a lot of potentially interesting threads, And yet nothing to truly explain it in a satisfying manner. But considering how important Castle Town is to the Main Plot, and considering the whole deal with the Grand Fountain also inherently involves Ralsei.... I feel pretty confident that we'll get some answers eventually.

[little-one-eyed-monsters]

The Finale of Top Form goes TOO Meta: Jin and Akin are rivals once again

Other Parts [1] [2] [3]

Retrospective on what I think should've been done to save the ship: [4]

Before I conclude my take on this shooting star of a ship, let me go on a little tangent first.

When GMMTV launched KristSingto, as a branded pair in 2016--the first ever official same-sex ship (or koo-jin) in Thailand-- media critics and industry experts called them insane.

Now, even at that period branded pairs were not a new concept in the country, and by the time Channel 9 produced the first ever officially-labelled Thai Boys' Love series Love Sick in 2014, queer media has had a strong cinematic presence in Thailand for over two decades. Krist Perawat and Singto Prachaya were in fact NOT GMMTV's first foray into queer content-- Tay Tawan and New Thitipoom first appeared as a same-sex couple in the het-mix series Kiss (Jan 2016), followed by Off Jumpol and Gun Attaphan in het-mix series Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (March 2016). But Sotus (August 2016) would be GMMTV's first full BL-- a series focused on the love story of two men that isn't an addendum to a straight couple's love story. When GMMTV publicly declared their desire to do more projects with KristSingto as a koo-jin, followed by formally launching TayNew and OffGun as official ships with their own BLs, critics feared that GMMTV would run into a pretty major managament and marketing concern.

Because what happens when a same-sex ship falls apart?

The actors become each other's BIGGEST competition:

This would be a nightmare for GMMTV's management, because as these actors are retained in their agency, they now have to ensure that both actors in the (former) ship would get an equal amount of opportunities and representation, without upstaging each other or splitting the original fandom they had built. This is not a problem for het ships, because actors and actresses do not compete for the same roles, so couple fans can support them individually without being traitors to their bias and their fellow fans.

This is why prior to KristSingto, companies who produce BLs don't formally launch branded pairs, and the actors who play in these shows are managed by different companies who view BL series collaborations as a one-and-done deal (similar to other producers in Korea, Taiwan and Japan). GMMTV has managed to circumvent all management concerns by NOT separating the ships at all-- regardless of their solo projects, actors in the koo-jin always remain within their brand. They can do projects with different partners, but only once and never for long. All fan events and promotions shall remain within the koo-jin and even when apart, all actors in the pair must constantly remind fans that they are a strong unit. In recent years however, GMMTV has run into the problem of the actual ACTORS not wanting to be in the koo-jin anymore but retaining their contracts with the company; thus being in-agency rivals of each other. In hidsight, maybe there was some merit to the early warnings of their critics.

Irregardless, because of GMMTV's success and their brands' career longevities, other companies have adapted this pair branding practice to the point that it's become the norm of the industry. Actors in the ship must come from the same agency. Because even if they are pair branded, if they don't come from the same agency, chances are they're competing heavily against each other because their COMPANIES are fighting for media space. This is why branded pairs managed by different companies typically don't make it more than a year on average (but there are some exceptions).

Yes, the "KristSingto concept" paid off, and continues to bring in money for GMMTV, but that doesn't mean it'll work for everybody. Media, like any other aspect of society, is inherently political, and competition is rife. Some stars shine, some dim, and some...

Some implode.

Smart Chisanupong and Boom Raveewit now hold the singular notoriety of being BL's shortest-lived branded pair, at three weeks since the launch of their offical fandom.

In 2025, we count branded pair longevity on the day they launch their ACTUAL brand, in this case, the Auralis. WeTV officially closed that chapter yesterday, with a (what I assume) FINAL statement on the co-management issue of Smart, posted at around 11 pm Thai time (and edited to remove the header on the same day):

Though there isn't a mention of them shelving the Top Form project altogether, it can be presumed that production plans have been put on hold, as in the third paragraph they apologized for disappointing the series' fans and asked for understanding.

Also, see that last line, the "[...] call on ALL PARTIES ACROSS THE INDUSTRY to uphold a sense of contractual responsibility [...]"? That's a simple and straightforward call from WeTV to blacklist Grand Ivory Records and by extension, Smart.

Blacklisting in media is the practice of excluding individuals or entities, from opportunities or employment within the media industry. The calls to boycott artists in media are usually done in very hush-hush methods, but instances of direct blacklist calls are regularly done especially in Asian media. Here is an interesting article on the history of blacklisting in media, and how companies announce it:

And for a more recent example and (closer wording to how WeTV's issued their blacklist), Below is an English translation of China Association of Performing Arts (CAPA)'s call to boycott actor Zhang Zhehan, after he allegedly expressed his support for Japanese imperialism against China during WW2 (this was proven to be unfounded, and ZZH is slowly rising above the blacklist in recent years).

Zhang Zhehan starred in the hit Chinese bromance Word of Honor alongside BL veteran Gong Jun (who had one BL series prior to WoH that predates the tightening of censorship restrictions in China) Though not formally pair branded, the two were in talks to pursue a second joint project under WoH producer Youku. They were actively doing JOINT fanmeets and JOINT sponsorships for big name brands, appearing together in tv spots, and publicly mentioning and acknowledging the fandom name chosen by their cp fans (so essentially doing everything a branded pair does). This lasted for three months (May to July, 2021), before the PRC censorship boards targeted Zhang Zhehan. JunZhe was considered the shortest-lived fandom in queer-adjacent media before SmartBoom did their swan dive for Auralis.

WeTV's announcement is veiled, careful and apologetic, but the statement from TaiLai (WeTV's Thai production house and head of the Top Form project) was ANGRY and... poetic?

Man, someone really needs to get TaiLai a social media manager who speaks native English 😅 What in the dollar-tree Shakespearean knockoff is this?!

Anyway, mentions of Damoclean swords aside, TaiLai specifically mentioned in their post that they intend fo fully pursue accountability for contract breaches, meaning a lawsuit is well on its way here.

These statements were made almost a week after Grand Ivory Records' and TaiLai's last heated (and childish) exchange on X, and three days after GIR claimed to still be in negotiations with Headliner and TaiLai over Smart's co-management.

The morning before WeTV, the actual media owner of Headliner and TaiLai, issued this statement to end all further discourse, GIR ONCE AGAIN *smh* announced another upcoming solo fanmeet for Smart in China:

Proof once again that GIR is all kinds of MORONIC and OBTUSE, because WHY THE HELL would you provoke WeTV AGAIN, when you're in the midde of legal renegotiations, while knowing that doing so put you in scalding hot water that first time? How do you, a company with two talents, go against the 17th richest company in the WORLD by employing the most legally questionable management decisions on this co-partnership? What hubris has blinded you so thoroughly?

Just because they trashed you in that documentary? Don't flatter yourselves, GIR; WeTV ALSO blamed Boom AND THE ACTUAL FANDOM for the failure of Top Form's continuation in the second part of the docu. WeTV is a monster that's darker and more sinister than you will ever be.

So what all this means is 1) GIR and Smart are probably going to be slapped by lawsuits left and right from all three companies under the Tencent conglomerate, if they haven't already, 2) WeTV, a major shareholder in Asia and part of China's top three media brands, has called for the industry blacklist of GIR and Smart, and 3) the SmartBoom ship is officially dead.

And as you'll see from the two posters at the top of this post, GIR and TaiLai aren't done measuring their dicks, because they both announced SOLO fanmeets for Smart and Boom in China on the same day, 721 km away from each other:

It's WeTV using Boom to further prove to GIR their superiority and utter strength, in the territory they have a chokehold over. Monsters, all of them.

Anyway, initially I didn't want to post this retrospective at all.

I meant it when I said @finally-im-home's statement on the whole fiasco is the final message I want everyone to see about SmartBoom. Go read that HERE first if you haven't-- it's insightful and very hopeful, unlike my own doom and gloom posts.

I changed my mind and decided to post anyway when I saw Auralis fans clamoring for the actual FANDOM to sue the companies who manage Smart and Boom. I can tell you now, the chance of us winning THAT lawsuit is a long shot the distance of Earth to Pluto, because as far as I know from an industry professional's perspective, we as mere spectators have no legal capacity to raise that lawsuit. Lawsuits of this nature have never been done before, and even if we did file it... would our co-petitioners (Smart and Boom) even cooperate? Do they even WANT to sue their own companies?

Smart seemingly doesn't. In his message on IG, though he insists that he personally never wanted to break the ship up and was happy to be in it, he accepted the decision of all parties and placed blame on himself, regardless if GIR decided for him.

And Boom is making a new song under WeTV, and has already secured a solo photoshoot and fanmeet, similar to Smart and GIR.

Are they still in contact? Are they still friends? Who knows 🤷‍♀️ Are they still required to interact, or prove to the fandom that they're still friends after this fiasco? No. Will we ever know if their friendship survived all this? Hopefully, yeah, but maybe not immediately. Even GMMTV's Bright and Win had to bide their time after the dissolution of the ship, to show the public that they're still good friends.

This media circus has done enough damage to Smart and Boom's career, and their mental health. I said in my last post that Boom is the greatest casualty of this mess and I stand by that, but with a blacklist and an impending, possibly million-baht lawsuit, Smart isn't doing any better either. At this point, if they want to change the trajectory of their careers away from these moronic companies, IT HAS TO COME FROM THEM. Even if it's too much responsibility placed on a young man's shoulders, Smart needs to come forward and take measures to extract HIMSELF from GIR, as a personal choice. Otherwise, he intends to join them in this ordeal to fruition.

And if we are any kind of fan, we have to respect that.

I'm anticipating that this will be my last post on Smart and Boom, and probably for Top Form and Auralis as well.

I find it ironically fitting that their fandom name is derived from the North Star and Aurora Borealis-- two things that are not constantly visible to the naked eye, and something you need to actively search for in order to see. Starlight takes lightyears to reach Earth, and most of the glimmers we see in the night sky are just fading remnants of dead stars that burned so bright it released light bright enough to reach the farthest corners of the cosmos.

Maybe, by naming their fandom from starlight, Smart and Boom knew then that their collective shine wasn't built to last. Not because they wanted to lose the light, but because they knew the space they wanted to shine it on is too dark and all-consuming to sustain their spark.

(Hey, I can be poetic too, TaiLai, screw you)

I wish Smart and Boom all the best in their careers, now as individual artists. I wish for Smart to become the idol he wants to be because he truly deserves it, and for Boom to finally get the acting acclaim befitting of his talent, and to join the likes of Billkin, Gun, and Apo in industry recognition.

And I hope, maybe weeks, months, or years down the line, I'll scroll through social media and see a normal photo they posted themselves, of Smart and Boom on a weekday off work just casually grabbing a bite to eat at a random restaurant, maybe with friends, maybe with their significant others, maybe by themselves. Free from the cloying expectations of fandom culture and the harsh rat race of money-hungry conglomerates-- just two friends who are content to support each other from the sidelines.

P.S. WeTV and TaiLai, since you all fucked us over, the least you could do is sue GIR to the ground. Not Smart-- GIR. Burn them to the ground so Smart can finally be free from that bogus contract. Make sure you get so much money from GIR that the CEO never has the power to open any business ever again. Only then will I forgive you.

[psychocitywrites]

Hard Truths - V

Summary: Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The sun was already setting, with orange and pink hues diffusing the once blue sky. Soon, the city would only light up with fluorescent streetlamps and buildings illuminating with people staying late to finish their work.

Rafe would be one of those people. He had been in the office for hours now, making up for coming in later than he usually would. He even skipped out on his lunch just so he could finish by tonight.

His mind was replaying the encounter he had with his father when he finally showed up, Ward had been pissed when he saw Rafe but held it in long enough until they were behind closed doors.

Apparently, Ward had brought in an investor to the company without letting him know, and he was surprised to find that Rafe hadn’t shown up yet. Rafe tried to defend himself, saying that he was helping out a friend.

A friend. Even now, it felt weird to say that since he still wasn’t sure what you were to him.

However, to Ward, it was just another excuse for Rafe to skip out on his responsibilities. Apparently, he had missed an important investor’s meeting and got chewed out by his father.

It was ironic to Rafe. Ward had left the company for him to lead, yet his father would come in from time to time to berate him in front of everybody in the office like he was some loser who only got the position due to his last name.

“When I made you a part of this company, I expected to leave it to someone I could trust. Someone who can carry on the Cameron legacy. If Sarah were here, she’d never make me look this bad in front of everybody.”

The golden child and the apple of Ward’s eye had gotten pregnant and married young, leaving Rafe to deal with leading the company, but Ward still held her in high regard. “If only you turned out more like her.” Ward muttered under his breath. Even if Rafe had become the top businessman of the century, Ward would still somehow compare him to Sarah.

Rafe clenched his jaw, tired to hearing the same old bullshit spew from Ward again. “Are you done? If so, I’m getting back to work.” He was already getting up, not really bothering to stay for much longer.

“Rose is cleaning up the place. Come get your stuff. We’ve put your things in a box. If you don’t want them, I’ll toss it out by the end of the month”

It was a threat, and Rafe knew his father would do it. Rose had been wanting to get rid of Rafe’s things after he had moved out years ago, but he’d come by to visit Wheezie from time to time and kept some of his items in his old room until she went to college out of state.

Ward didn’t stay too long after that and left, leaving Rafe in a state of restlessness.

Knock, knock, knock. Topper sheepishly stuck his head through the doorway. “Hey man, you good? The whole office kinda heard what happened today.”

“I’m peachy, what do you think?” Rafe said sarcastically. “What do you want?”

“You still hittin’ it up with Heather? I’m serious about Ruthie wanting a double date. She’s bustin’ my ass to get you to agree to it too.”

Heather. Shit.

He has put his phone on DND after Ward had left. He forgot about her completely after leaving you alone. He checked his phone and he saw that he had a couple new messages from Heather.

Heather: Rafe! The flowers are beautiful and the chocolates were wonderful Heather: You've made my day with them Heather: I'm sorry I wasn't there to get them irl, so maybe we should meet up?

Perfect. He responded, typing quickly.

Rafe: Sounds good;) Lemme know when and where

Five minutes after he sent that, Heather responded.

Heather: Surprise me :)

“Yeah it’s still on with Heather, and no. Me and Ruthie in a room together ain’t happening. I can't stand her yapping.”

Topper groaned. “Ugh, you’re givin’ me blue balls man.” Rafe narrowed his eyes and Topper took the hint. “Okay, looks like you got everything here in order. Imma take my leave now chief.” He saluted on his way out.     

Once Rafe was alone in his office, he sat down on his chair rubbing both of his eyes. Heather's request gave him an excuse to contact you again.

He thought about what had happened earlier and he felt a fuzzy feeling grow in his chest. It must be worry, he thought, but then his stomach grumbled. He’d remembered his missed lunch and glanced at his watch. It read 8:15. He sighed, already feeling the day wear him down.

He was going to send a text to check up on you, but had beat him to the punch. His phone vibrated with message from you.

y/n: Thank you for today. I’m really glad you helped me today. Let me know if you need anything, i'll try and help

The same fuzzy feeling came back but more intensified, and it made Rafe feel a little uncomfortable.

You’d probably had gotten off work now and texted. He debated on if it was appropriate to ask, but he sent a text anyway.

Rafe: Are you feeling ok? Want me to come over?

Three dots immediately showed up on his phone, then disappeared, then reappeared.

y/n: I'm okay now, you don't have to worry about me

For some reason, he still felt worried. He saw you have to deal with an ass like Kyle, and also saw how you'd been pretty shaken when he last saw you, so before he even knew it, his feet led him out the door and staight to his car. He first made a stop to a Mexican restaurant and ordered enough for two people to go.

He'd memorized you address from the day before and just drove his way there. He knew he should have sent a another text to make sure you were actually at home, but when he parked his car in your drive way and knocked at your door, you had answered, looking wildly confused as to why he was at your door step.

He held up the two bags and a cup holder with drinks. "Is it too late for dinner?"

---

You'd been surprised to see Rafe twice on the same day, and even more so when it was at your house.

You'd been trying to keep your distance with Rafe, knowing that developing unrequited feelings for him would spell out disaster for you, but when he offered you takeout that smelled absolutely amazing, you reluctantly invited him in.

"Is this because you felt bad for me this morning?"

"Nah, I was just in the area."

A complete lie. You knew that wasn’t true. You were pretty sure he lived in the city, but didn’t push it.

You weren't prepared to have any guests over. You had worn a casual outfit, just a t-shirt and sweats, and your hair was still damp from taking a shower. Rafe had also smelled the faint scent of your shampoo when you welcomed him.

When he stepped in, he saw various frames of photos littering the wall. Some had you with what he assumed was your siblings since they shared similar features to you. Some with your parents and others of a black cat that actually appeared right on the table as he set down the food.

It seemed curious as to what Rafe had bought and was carefully sniffing around the bags as if it was inspecting the food itself.

“Shadow! No.” You said sternly. “Paws off the table.” You shoo’d him away. “He knows better than to be in the table. He just doesn’t care for the most part.”

Shadow then appeared by Rafe's feet, sniffing him, trying to gage if he like Rafe or not. He decided that Rafe was worthy of his attention, so he plopped himself down in front of Rafe, wanting Rafe to pet him.

Rafe smiled that its antics. “Cute cat.”

You carefully picked Shadow up and meowed in protest. You didn;t want him to accidentally eat any food off the table, so you put him in your room just to be safe.

When you came back to the dinning room, Rafe had already cleaned and set everything up for the the two of you.

"So what's inside?" You asked.

"Tacos." You raised an eyebrow and he raised both his hands as if to defend himself. "Hey, I'm not all steak and potatoes, I know some pretty good eats here and there. Plus, I could tell you didn't love the last restaurant we went to, so I'm here to redeem myself."

"I didn't hate the place." You mumbled.

"Just the price tag." Rafe countered.

You didn't argue, instead you took a bite of the taco and immediately moaned. Rafe had been watching intently and he loosened up when he saw your reaction, and then began to eat his after you.

"I was actually starved. This was perfect." You said as you finished the last bite. You were now just sipping the drink Rafe had bought.

"Same. I actually haven't eaten anything all day."

"Rafe!" You stared at him wide-eyed, your caring instincts kicking in. "What happened?"

"It's nothing. Just had a lot to finish at work. That's all." He didn't want to bring up Ward.

"Was it because of me?" You casted your eyes down, and Rafe instanly felt like a weight had been buried in his chest.

"No! Absolutely not. Kyle Richardson is an asshole, and he needed to be brought down to reality. I wouldn't have done anything different. He would have been dealt with sooner or later."

Rafe sighed. "It's just hard sometimes with the expectations I get from others." You didn't push but grabbed his hand, just like he did earlier in the day. Rafe found himself really liking the warmth emanating off your hands.

"I actually have to thank you for today." You looked up at him. “Your suggestions about what to get Heather. It worked, and now she wants me to surprise her for a date," He made air quotes with his hands. You had let go of him by then. "I have no clue if she wants to go somewhere lowkey or something more high end."

You stared at his face and then cleared your throat. "That's...great." You tried to sound happy for him. "Um, Miss Hayworth likes to dine at exclusive places. The place you payed for last time would be perfect."

Rafe made a mental note of that. "Yeah, got it. Thanks."

An awkward silence engulfed the two of you, until you couldn;t hold in a yawn. "Um, I think I'm gonna get ready for bed soon. I know I've already said this, but thank you for today." You gave him a small smile.

"I think I've overstayed my welcome. I'll take my leave now." He shuffled up from the dining seat table. He grabbed the wrappers and napkins, cleaning up the tiny mess you and him made during his short visit. "I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Yeah. Take care Rafe. Drive back safely." You walked him to your entrance and watched him enter his car before closing the door completely.

You'd felt like you were in a movie, and instead of being the main character, you were just an individual watching two leads slowly fall in love with each other. A bystander. You sighed and walked to your bedroom and let Shadow strut out and rub himself on you.

You then watched as he placed himself down in front of you and tilt his head, as if he was asking what had happened while he in the other room.

"Oh, Shadow. You're still the number one guy in my heart." You said jokingly, but he seemed to like that answer as he launched himself right into your arms. Your day had been a bit of a rollercoaster, so you were going to let yourself sleep it off before resetting for the next day.

However, as you laid in bed, you tried not to think of Rafe, but that was harder said than done. The way he handled Kyle stayed behind to care for you had set the butterflies in motion inside your stomach. Then the recent visit to bring dinner had made him wedge into your mind subconsciously.

Rafe was making it difficult for you to move on from your unrequited feelings, even if he was doing it unknowingly.

You sighed and tried to keep your eyes shut. You began using your back up plan of counting sheep to make yourself sleepy and slowly but surely, you had fallen into a deep slumber, dreaming of the person your were trying to forget.

Taglist: @lolabunnyworldss @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @toomanywhitelies @wuluhwuhmaster @maybankslover @ivy-34

[stargatesg1atlantisuniverse]

I feel like if anything you feel it more after. There was a marked shift between Before and After reestablishing contact, definitely. The main one was new faces like Ronon and Lorne joining. It's actually really cool to focus on Lorne because it's like a window into all the rest of the Earth people joining later because you can see them slowly shift from "it's just a job" to "these are the people I've chosen to maybe die alongside and I'm proud to stand between them and near certain death" kinda mentality. And with Ronon, it adds another 'alien' to the main team which makes it seem even less militaristic than before, actually.

SG-1 definitely goes above and beyond to save Earth and each other, but they're just one team. All the other characters on the base rarely if ever are included in the dangerous parts- except Siler, poor guy- so there's a lack of 'we're all in this together' it's more, 'hope SG-1 saves the day, guess I'll go back to paperwork in the meantime.' In Atlantis, it's more ensemble cast where the smaller characters still get plenty of screen time and lines. You can see how they changed that in SG-1 later as well, giving Walter more lines, adding Bill and the 303 captains, etc. But early seasons Stargate it was SG-1 against the galaxy, whereas SGA has always been Atlantis against the galaxy.

In Atlantis, it's all about the base. The base is their city, is their home, is their community. It's where a lot of the show is set. Sure, they go offworld just like SG-1, but when they get back, there's that sense of "we're home" which just isn't felt as much in the concrete-everything-grey underground base on Earth.

Coming back to your question (oops, I rambled), I think there's not really a big change when they get back in touch with Earth except for the added politics and occasional Earth based episode. They still maintain the same vibe and actually I think it relaxes more after when they know they have a safety net. They know they could go home whenever they want to now, but why would they want to? This is their home now. Going to Earth is like going back to your hometown to visit, it's nice to see family, but that's not where you belong anymore. Atlantis is their home

(It's got me thinking about the ship crews now actually bc for a while there Prometheus was going back and forth staying weeks at a time at either Earth or Atlantis with a month travel time inbetween, which is crazy to think about for like shore leave and such)

So I'm currently in Season 3 of Sg1 and I have been hit with another difference between Sg1 and Atlantis.

The SGC is a job. Atlantis is home.

Don't get me wrong, the sg1 team is pack bonded and absolutely feral about each other. They are family. They are friends. They are also coworkers. They commute to the sgc. They have houses and apartments and lives outside of the stargate program. (Well, some of them do.) They get paid, go on vacations, and get benefits. In the end, this is a job. A job you love, with people you would die for, at a place that could be a second home, but a job.

Atlantis is a home first and a job second. They live there. They fall asleep to the sound of waves lapping against the piers of Atlantis. They go for runs in the catwalks. There's a chess club, a mensa chapter, an outdoors club, they go fishing and play volleyball together. They go for dates in the cafeteria, have Atlantis movie nights, and meet up for breakfast. They're a tight knit community.

The SGC is also a military base and it shows, it's barren and impersonal, there are a few exceptions to this, like Daniel having a picture of Sha're on his desk, but for the most part there's little to no personalization. Even the lighting is often very sterile and military. Again, there's exceptions, like the often warm and yellow lighting used in Daniel's office, but the hallways are all extremely sterile. (There's something to be said for the way that Daniel is most often the one breaking up the uniform and military vibes of the base, but that's another post)

Atlantis, on the other hand, is heavily personalized. They hang posters on their walls, they have golf clubs, art supplies, and remote control cars. There's dirty clothes on the floor of their quarters, a mini fridge tucked into the corner, and books left open on their beds. There's something so familiar and comfortable about Atlantis. A sense of belonging that doesn't come across as much as in Sg1.

Honestly, I think it comes back to how militarized the SGC is and how civilian Atlantis is. The vibe is less found family military heroes and more Atlantis is a home to the lost and the broken.

[strawberriesandroses52]

Miscalibrated

pt 1/?

---

JAZZ stares up at the blistering sun. It’s so hot out that he half expects some lone vulture to shriek. Or maybe someone to strum a guitar, like they do in movies and TV shows. To really top it off, perhaps a rattle snake hiding in a singular cow skull. Then it would really be like it was a movie. 

If only it was a movie. If it was a movie, then he would have some doohickey or secret plan to get out of this mess. Then he wouldn’t be stranded on some alien planet who knows how many lightyears away from earth, slowly overheating in his mecha. Bebop was a wonderful machine, but without power, she was just metal. Cool looking metal, but just metal. 

Jazz has long since stripped out of his assistance suit, down to his boxers, having sweat through it an hour and a half into being stranded. He was slowly sipping his water, trying to ration it while thinking of a solution. 

No power, no communication. No power, no way to tell if this atmosphere was breathable or not. Or if there would be any kaiju lurking about. No way to tell if the ground wasn’t made of acid or something like that. 

It was a circular train of thought. He can’t stay and die of heatstroke, but he can’t leave either. His only hope would be to wait it out, hoping that Bebop’s systems got the distress call out before powering down. He hopes someone gets his signal before a kaiju does. 

Jazz had been a pilot for seven years, and while that’s nowhere close to the record, it’s nothing to scoff at either. Bebop hadn’t been his mecha the entire time, but she’s been his for the last four years, and he’s gotten a little attached. There’s some stickers on her pilot seat, old and peeling off now. His boot scuff marks on her deck. His greasy fingerprints are on the array of buttons in front of him. They’re comrades, partners. 

But right now she’s killing him as much as she’s saving him. If he was baking in here, then it must truly be scorching outside her hull. 

“I guess there really is no way out, old girl.” He mutters to her, head thunking down on her console. He likes to think that if she could talk, she’d say something to cheer him up. 

But the metal around him doesn’t respond. 

Pilots are often told that being separated from their mecha means the death of the pilot. It usually means a kaiju has figured out where your pod was located and is about to rip you out of your mecha’s chest and kill you. But what about when the cause of death is the mecha itself? He doesn’t remember any talking about that at all. 

(except maybe the myth about a haunted mecha, which Jazz was disinclined to believe in.) 

Surely, it must happen from time to time? A failed weapons check, a miscalculation, a malfunction, a miscalibration of some kind.

Jazz takes another sip of water. It brings no relief to the heat, and is tainted with the taste of salt as well. He wrinkles his nose a bit at the taste. 

No power.

No way out.

He takes another drink, wishing perhaps that it was something a bit stronger. 

Bebop’s frame shudders around him.

Jazz sits up, looking around at the metal. Was Bebop caving in on him? Or some kaiju coming to pry her open, hoping to eliminate the pilot inside?

Instead, Bebop begins to move like someone or something is carrying her, and the swaying almost knocks Jazz out of the pilot’s chair. Whatever is going on outside of Bebop’s protective embrace, they–it? Is dragging Bebop somewhere. 

To help? To death? Jazz doesn’t know and doesn’t have any way to know.

Of all the pilots, of all the people that this could happen to– of course it’s him. Of course it’s Jazz. Lucky-unlucky Jazz. Jazz who can flirt with death and live to see another day only because it loves toying with him. Fate’s own personal chew toy. Being dragged off to an unknown location by an equally unknown thing to an even more unknown fate.

He kind of wants to scream, but that wouldn’t help his situation. 

So he sits. Listening, trying to see what the heck is going on outside of the pod. It doesn’t provide him with much information, a scuff here, and a dragging noise there.  

The unease of not knowing getting him, he slips his assistance suit back on, putting his helmet back on. The suit stirs to life, barely functioning without the connection to Bebop’s systems. It’s uncomfortably sticky, but he bares it with a grimace. Already, the helmet is making his scalp sweat. But sweating is a good sign. From what he remembers of the survival crash courses he’s taken, it’s when you’re not sweating is when you need to worry. 

The pilot’s chair is as comfortable as ever, it had to be, since pilots spend 270 out of 365 in it. The old guard likes to call the new generation soft, with all their fail safes and safety checks and comfortable pilot seats. Jazz thinks he’d rather die with the comfortable seat.

There’s a pause to the dragging. Muffled sounds float into the pod, and Jazz can’t even begin to decipher what is on the outside. 

The hairs on his arm stand up, followed by the ones on his neck. A sour, metallic taste fills his mouth. 

He barely has time to think what the fuck before every nerve in his body is alight with fire. His body seizes up as jolts run up his legs and up his back and across his arms. His mouth is open and making a sound, it feels like a scream but he can’t hear anything. His fingers and toes tingle and sting as he gasps for air. 

Again, his body seizes, less violently this time, but still aching with fire. He flops down onto the console in front of him, panting and heaving. His muscles dance of their own accord, twitching and spasming. There’s the distinct smell of burnt hair somewhere near his nose. His tongue feels numb. 

But, Bebop’s arrays flicker to life. Stutteringly, the HUD comes back on, washing the pod with blue light. Several alerts pop up, proximity, damage and radar most notably. 

Jazz takes in a large, staggering breath. His heart is banging a gong inside his chest and his head, and his arms tingling with pins and needles barely respond to his commands as he moves to turn on all of Bebop’s sensors. He misses a couple times, reaching too far or not far enough before he can hit the right button.

Bebop comes to life. His helmet’s full visual display pops on, and Jazz is no longer human. 

Jazz is a twenty two and a half foot tall mecha strapped with knives, guns, and lethal precision. 

Being a pilot for seven years gives you wonderful reflexes. Jazz prides himself on having a particularly good reaction time, even among other pilots. Instinctively, before his sluggish brain registers that the shape above him is vaguely human-mecha shaped, he swipes wildly with Bebop’s built in knife. 

There’s the distinct shriek of metal on metal and a pained yelp that sounds too human for comfort. Jazz doesn’t spend long considering it, he just rolls away from the direction of the noise. Bebop’s systems are still booting online from the surge of power, meaning Jazz wouldn’t have access to her sonar navigation, his guns, or life support levels yet. 

When he springs out of the roll, he doesn’t look back as he sprints across the desert landscape. Bebop’s digitigrade legs barely touch the ground before launching him ever forward. As weird as this day has been, he has to admit he’s in a better situation than he was in earlier today.

There’s a thunder of footsteps behind him, echoing the same metal-on-hard-rock sound that Jazz’s own feet make. His jaw tenses as his eyebrows furrow in deep, quick thought. What to do? Something clearly wanted something to do with him. He had very little information to go off of. 

In a split second decision, Jazz launched himself forward with a mighty leap, landing crouched on the tips of Bebop’s metallic toes. He pivots, staying low to the ground as he faces whatever thing had just tazed and chased him.

It’s a mecha. 

Pearly white, black, a bright red. It’s a bit taller than Bebop is, and has very, very human-like proportions. And an even more human face, judging by the shocked expression. Whatever country or corporation that built this mecha must’ve been absolutely loaded to create such a human like mech. 

It opens its mouth and what the hell are those TEETH? Jazz takes a second look and, yes, yes those are teeth. What kind of mecha has teeth? One that bites kaiju? 

The mecha makes several sounds like dial-up internet, the error code of a printer, static, and various beep boop noises. Are their speakers damaged? Is Bebop’s audio receptors damaged? Or are they speaking some binary computer language? 

Bebop’s fins, functioning as both sonars and emotive display, flicker up and down. The strange mech pauses its sentence to watch as the fins move. Besides the electric shock earlier, the mecha has yet to attack. Based on its body language, it doesn’t necessarily intend to at the moment. It seems just as confused as Jazz.

Warily, Jazz stands up to Bebop’s full height, fins held at neutral. The mecha stands up a bit straighter as well, staring at Jazz consideringly. 

He takes two short steps forward as Bebop’s systems get a full visual scan. The mecha doesn’t move, but doesn’t back away either. Jazz flicks on his intercom. 

“Hi.” He says.

The mecha’s face morphs into confusion. “Hai?” It repeats with a strange accent.

Ah. So, a pilot that definitely did not speak english. That was odd. Most pilot programs, government or otherwise, required knowledge of English and one other common business language. Pilots weren’t just skilled monster hunters, they were engineers, scientists, inventors, military personnel, the best even among the best. 

“Konichiwa?” He tries, earning the same look again. 

English and Japanese were the only two languages he knew at the moment. But the pilot should’ve recognized at least one of them. Two of the most basic words from two of the most recognizable languages should’ve garnered some spark of recognition.

Is this even a pilot from Earth? 

[devbox]

Hi!

So i might have wrote ABO AU stobotnik fic as i was sick this week. Like it just poured out of me.. its not finished quite yet. And its not edited just drafts with typos all over. But i wrote a hella lot to now. Like 81 pages with it...

Im no writer but i tought maybe i could try to release some here to see if people like it?

If you dont know what ABO is this wont make sence im sorry.

Chapter 1: Gotta do what i gotta do

"Remember to take them Ivo..."The doctor stared up at him hard not letting the packet go from his seat.

"Jezes! Quit nagging me! It happened one time!"Robotnik sneered back. Trying to snap the packet from his grasp and get the hell out of here already. 

"Thats a lie and you know it.." The doctor said with a glare. 

"So i forget sometimes! Its not like its a problem fore anyone.. Im locked in my lab most of the time, no one gets a scent.."

"Ivo your health.." The doctor sighs and closes his eyes, before opening them again filled with concern. "Going through heat alone...You know i have advised you to get a mate.. And didnt you confide in me that you suspect there are some who might know. Your superior Benson who tried to overpower you at his office?".

"Hah! Like i would be outsmarted by that ape! Alpha scum... I scared him so good he doesnt dare to look at me in the eye any longer.. he wont try anything again..".

"You were not in heat then Ivo! What if-"

"I think i had enough really..". Robotnik said low and menacing. "You calling me by my first name is making me.. want to do bad things..". He took the packet and tisked at the pitiful gaping bouffon before he turned and left. Then made a mental note get his own inhibitors from  now own. Nothing a little dabble on the government web wouldnt fix..

__________________________________________________

Back in the lab he tossed the packet in his *locked fore idiots and the like* drawer. Not like many people came by, but better safe then sorry..  And you never know. Maybe that snooping beta would dare to try steal from him. Agent Stone never gave him caution fore distrust, but Robotnik knew better.  Opportunity makes a rat. 

Speak of the devil... Here comes the patter of the opportunist.

"Doctor! Your back!" The agent smiled one of those weird grins at him. Like he was happy to see him. Liar...

"Yes, All is tip top! Never better or whatever.." He grumbled as he turned to his console. 

"Wonderful sir!"

"Lets get back to work... Go make me latte before you postpone the next meeting with those pentagoons as far as possible. I got the email last night..."

"New meeting? But the launch is imminent, what is this abo-"

"Ugh! something about safety, precautions, bla bla bla.." Robotnik waved his hand, hoping the dramatics would stop Stones yapping. 

"Right away sir". The agent replied dutifully. Leaving Robotnik to his precious toughts. He studied the blueprints fore default while he processed the last hour. 

Stupid doctor Williams.. Get a mate.. Who does he think i am? My work is my life...And i feel fine! Top on my game! Unstoppable! So what if i forget sometimes.. I get immersed! Caught up in my own genius! I can handle it anyway... Just lock myself up fore some days and sweat it out.

Get a mate.... Like anyone would- 

Robotnik knows what he looks like. Not your typical omega. To tall.. To masculine.. A oddity in the looks department too.  And the farthest from a meek and docile personality alphas love..

Maybe someone would try take him down a peg. Wipe the smirk of his face.. But thats it.. never more. Painful experience taught him that.. 

But he overcame! Hard work and a brain like no other got him unlimited funding where he could plan his world domanation in peace. 

Except a beta bodyguard/assistent who tried to buddy up to him everyday...  How long has it been? 2 years? No 4.. huh..Has he really been here that long?

"Here is your latte doctor. With steamed austrian goatsmilk".

Robotnik took it but turned back to his blueprints with only a nod. 

Stone still stood there tough.. Instead of retreating like he used to do. AH! What does he want now..

"Stone?" He said clipped. Looking up at him barely.

"I just- i dont understand what Benson and Walters want? Didnt you go by every number last time?"

"Dont remind me... They say they found a possible problem with operations in the field. They didnt specify.. Im trying to predict it myself now.."

"Hmm.. you went over everything unoumerable times sir. Seems unlikely.."

"Probably just a try to cut cost..." Robotnik mused while scanning. "Did you postpone? "

"Yes... I only managed 1 day im afraid. Urgent was the message. They will meet you at the conference in Texas"

"Conference!? What-"

"Tied up they said... "

"Those mouth breathing imbeciles! Im perfecting my babies here! I dont have time fore tea, cake and chit chat! I have half the mind to-" Robotnik stops himself before he says something incriminating.. Stone is still a agent on the payroll.. He sighs and calms before he  faces his agent. "Gotta to do what i gotta do...Better pack fore a trip Stone.."

__________________________________________________________________

"Why do i need to stay there one night? Thats ridiculous?!"

"They insisted sir. Something about wanting you attending to a speach at the conference the next day. They promised a small group..."

"They know i hate doing that...Its like they lured me just to get more clout at officials. the launch is on the way, why grovel anymore? Is there a problem with funding?"

"Nothing i have heard whispers of doctor". Stone said looking away in contemplation

"No matter.. let them know il do it. They know i cant say no so near to the launch..." Robotnik said with defeat. Pack accordingly and lets get going. I want this over.."

"The flight is scheduled and preparation in order already sir. Your ride is waiting outside when your ready".

"Dilligent as always Stone.." Robotnik praised with a smudge of venom. His bad mood was souring everything..

"Thank you Sir!" Stone beamed all the same. Always so eager to please Robotnik at every angle. Soaking up rare praise like a starving man. Kinda sickening if you thought about it. And Robotnik certainly didnt..

"And your shure, i mean, that you will be ok to take this trip? With your visit with the medical doctor-"

Robotnik got up swiftly. Looming over the smaller man. 

"What did you just say?" He got closer with purpose of intimidation. 

"Its just, i only-" Stone stuttered apprahensive. 

"You only what?" Robotnik sneered while staring him down.

"I noticed you havent been eating- more reclused than normal, a bit pale-" Stone managed like it pained him.

"You are my assistent Stone... Not my non existing mother! I can take care of myself!"

At that Stone fixed him with a stare that beg to differ. 

"There is nothing wrong with me..." He bit out. "Get it through your dumb scull already.. i am no liability, even though i know everybody wants me to be. Just waiting fore me to slip up... Including you i see .."

"What? Doctor no-" All determination slipped from Stone face. Replaced by confusion and hurt? A good actor to, Robotnik added to his skills. 

"I would never- my loyalty is with you sir!"

Robotnik scoffed disbeliving. No one had ever sided with him.. The rare times he got caught hoping, betrayal always followed. Never again he had vowed.. And even though Stone had slipped through the cracks and Robotnik deemed him tolarable as his assistant unlike many others before him, he held him at arms length. He had to.. He was a sheep hiding in the wolfs den after all.. 

"Whatever.. Lets just go, better to get it over with so i can get back to my real work. He let out a frustrated breath, tired of the human sherade that interuppts to frequently in his opinion. 

He was jolted back from his toughts when Stone landed a careful hand on his chest. 

"Doctor. Its true". Stone said in almost whisper. Eyes defiant and fond? 

A warm feeling spread through Robotnik at the touch and he felt his face heat up. That conniving litle-!

He took the hand in a crushing grip. "Dont ever.. Ever! Touch me again! you got that!?"

Stone eyes widened with horror. "Oh god! Im sorry sir-"

Robotnik let go and stepped back almost panting in rage. He could almost smell  his own sickening smell leaking out from other disgusting feelings flaring up. 

Calm... Or even a beta like him will notice..

"I only wanted to let you know im on your side- but i shouldnt-"

"My side.." Robotnik laughed mockingly trying to stabilise. 

"You think your different dont you? Well your not! Not to me... Just another ant in my way.. I believe you confuse my patience with attachment..  Dont make that mistake again.."

Stone looked gutted at the words. Like Robotnik had hit him out of nowhere and now he was lost. Robotnik could feel the pain seeping trough himself. He doubled down...

"I dont miss you when your gone..Human beings are unreliable and stupid and i care very little about them. My machines are dilligent. Relentless. They are everything to me. No one else matters... You got that?"

Stone closed his mouth and there was tension in his jaw. He looked to the side composing himself. 

"Yes sir... Im sorry fore my transgression. Il be waiting in the car".  He said and left.

Robotnik took a calming breath as the door closed. Why was he sweating? He closed a hand over his mouth trying to quiet his racing heart. The sycophant drove him to it.. But why did he look so sad about it? It seemed genuine-

Focus! Your goal is within reach. Decades of work! Dont let anyone or anything distract you now...

He took another breath before dragging his feet forward . Not noticing his lack of strength in them. And forgetting the important pills in the drawer...

[lexsluvswriting]

𓆙Even Gods need a little TLC.

"Dumb conversations, we lose track of time. Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine?"

- Nothing; Bruno Major.

-> Pairing: Avenger!Loki x gender neutral!reader

-> CW: Loki is in the Avengers in this one!! Slightly different timeline: if Loki decided to stay on Earth w/Thor after the Battle of New York & become an Avenger (look… just go w it.) x gender neutral (they/them/yours/) reader!

-> TW: none!! Just tooth-rotting fluff, as reader chills out to cuddle w/ everyone's favourite God of Mischief. lots of unconditional love for one (1) Loki Laufeyson <3

W/C: 1424

╰┈➤ Lex's note: DEAR JAYNIEBLOSSOM, MY SWEET, SWEET READER... i am so sincerely sorry that you had to wait two months for this!! i'm so ashamed for making everyone wait/gen. written from this req by @jaynieblossom-or-rosieposie !! i hope i did him justice for you!! i hope we all enjoy some fluffy cuddles w/ our dearest Loki. as always, thanks for requesting & reading!! <3

“On your left!”

Like a knee-jerk reaction, Loki’s dagger was hurled, and Sam swore into the comm that crackled in the God’s ear as his metal wings made a screeching noise, grinding against the blade. 

“Nice one, reindeer games. Forget what side you’re on?”

Stark’s grating, arrogant drawl made his dark eyebrows pinch together, his glacier eyes narrowing beneath his helmet as he grit out an apology. Be kind, he thought, they’re your team now.

Regrettably.

The others filled the comms with their voices as they gave Stark and Rogers their intel and their positions, and the dynamic team of Avengers managed to make the mission a no-casualties success, except for maybe Loki’s mood. Loki panted, sweat drenching his lower back, making his tunic cling to his abdomen more than usual. He thought about what you’d say if you saw the view, and he tried to let a kindling warmth stir in his core, only for it to feel like he had been doused with freezing cold water. The swirling voices of Stark’s childish arrogance, Sam’s disapproving looks, even Maximoff’s sympathetic smile as she tried to offer consolidation- ”You weren’t that bad! When I first started with the Avengers, I was clumsy and disoriented too. Just think of yourself like a baby deer learning to stand!”

It made him grit his teeth.

Stand? Why, he could do more than that. He was a Prince of Asgard, a King of Chaos, the God of Mischief for crying out loud.

Curtly, he dismissed the Scarlet Witch’s kind attempt to make him feel better, and Sam rolled his eyes while Tony assessed his wing, “Don’t get too pouty, prince. I’m sure big brother can help you learn the difference between teammate and target.” His mocking smirk made Loki want to ruin the pearly whites he mocked him with, when there was a warm caress around his wrist. A little thread bracelet of gold, black and green you had made him, with one in your own favourite colours to match. He had enchanted them, so a simple touch would be felt for the other bracelet wearer, and Loki immediately craved home.

You were cosy on the couch, in a hoodie that smelt like him, though he had made it clear he wouldn’t stoop so low to wear such mortal rags in public, but you were content with this. You had scrolled on your phone, watching cute compilation videos of little animals, and success stories, and family reunions. It had gotten you warm and teary eyed, but you had put your phone down as soon as the door to your room swung open, “Hey you… I was just thinking about- oh!”

His face was buried in your chest before you could properly process his non-verbal behaviours, and immediately you began to scratch his scalp tenderly, playing with his soft raven hair, “Mission didn’t go well?” A muffled grumble was your answer, before he shook his head against your chest. He wasn’t needy, looking at you with a wolfish smirk and hungry eyes, like he usually would, and your lips tilted down into a frown, “Why, my love?”

There was considerable silence, before you quirk your lips to the side in thought. You were ready to make silly guesses, but something in the air shifted, and you could tell this was serious.

“I don’t think I’m a good fit for the Avengers as a whole.” He started, sitting up suddenly, staring at the ground with his elbows on his knees. His hands were clasped together, slender fingers twisting at the jewellery to adorn his hands, “I don’t have any purpose. I go on these foolish, wasteful mundane missions and do nothing useful- my powers are fizzling out, all because I’m some washed up God now, though I still don’t do right on missions-”

“Hey!” You finally made a successful interjection, sitting up and pulling him into a hug, “Where did this come from, Loki? How could you say these things about yourself?” Your voice was soft, not to baby him or condescend, but to provide a safe place for him to be… vulnerable. As if he had caught on, he tried to look away with a mean scowl, though it was not directed at you as he answered, “It’s not easy to stick to the path of redemption with a creature like Tony Stark reminding you each moment of what atrocities you need to repent, and how much of a monster you are.”

Your face softened into a sad frown, and you hugged him tight again, kissing his temple, “You don’t really believe all that crap, right?”

“How couldn’t I? He makes such convincing points.” His sarcasm was unnecessary, but you knew better than to comment on it while he was like this. Instead, you gently coaxed him to lie with his head on your chest, the two of you sprawled comfortably on the couch with legs intertwined. You grabbed your phone to open it up to something, but before you did, you kissed his head again.

“You know you’re doing so good, right?” Your voice was the warm ray of sun he needed to defrost his sweeter mood, and he felt the foundations of his scowl begin to crack and melt already.

“Lies.” He grumbled, but your refusal was adamant,

“You are. I am so incredibly proud of you, Loki. And truly, if I thought there was… something wrong, if I thought you didn’t care at all about making up for what you’ve done, if I truly thought you were some low-life, irredeemable monster-”

“Okay, I think I get it-”

“Then I wouldn’t be with you! But I am, because I see how much this change of heart means to you. Every day, you do so well, even when you think the opposite, and it makes me feel so proud, so fulfilled to see you give yourself a chance.” You had cupped his face at this point, kissing his head, then the tip of his nose, then his lips in an affectionate peck. He returned for a sweeter kiss, before you pulled up a thread of something you had saved for your own bad days, and immediately he was intrigued.

“Animals?”

“Baby animals! Look! A little baby bunny, and a puppy, and ducks!” You cooed, your eyes pooling with adoration as you absorbed the contents of the tiny screen. Loki still thought you were one of the strangest mortals he had ever met, but that only reinforced his love for you as he watched you swipe and scroll through, before he scowled at the baby deer and extended a finger to personally remove it from his screen. You didn’t question it, letting him look around on your phone, until he saw little snakes with flower hates, wearing tiny scarves or jumpers, curled up in funny little spots. 

“See? It’s you! My handsome little snake prince.” You hummed, kissing his head while his eyes were fixated on the screen, scrolling at his own pace. 

“You know, I’d love you if you got turned into an animal by an evil witch.” You curled your lips in a thoughtful pout, which he met with his own in a gentle peck, before raising his eyebrows at you. “Oh?” He hummed half-distractedly, eyes drooping as your nails scraped against his scalp in the way he liked, right at the nape of his neck. You felt him sag more into your body, half-blanketing you, half-trapping you in the couch.

“MMhm! Whether it’s a snake, a puppy, even a worm- I’d love you no matter what form you entered my life in.”

“Thank you, darling… That is kind… Very kind.” His voice trailed off slowly as he cuddled into you, and you kept kissing his head whilst you told him sweet things. At one point, you had fallen asleep too, to which he poked an eye open lazily and murmured, “I’d love you if you were a worm too.”

He lay in your arms, his mind quiet despite the emotionally charged day, despite what he was thinking before he saw you. As he lay here, with your arms wrapped securely around him, hands tangled comfortably in his hair, he couldn’t help a small smile as he looked up at you with pure, wholesome adoration. As long as he had you, he was sure that he was doing good in the world.

Especially when he got to see you smile, or laugh, or do any other simple motion that could fuel his lifespan and fill him with strength.

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: hopefully i return to a semi-consistent posting schedule!!

[raylina]

I'm going to talk about this post and hotd Helaegon only. I've seen good analysis of Aegon/Helaena and Aemond/Aegon relationships before, but still, I have something to say to the fandom that likes to demonize Aegon while Daemon, Aemond, Viserys and other characters exist.

1. Helaena was married at the age of 14.

Yes, and Aegon was 16. This is not the first early marriage in this world or books, and Helaena was lucky to marry someone her age and not some old dude. Girls were married as young as 11 years old in GRRM world.

2. Consummation is a mandatory process for marriage. Yes, there have been characters in history who waited and refused, but they were usually under pressure to consummate. In this case, the greens are on the brink of war, and they can't delay the matter of heirs (no matter how wrong it may be). But it's not the children's fault, it's their parents. Example: Aemma Arryn.

3. "Helaena puts duty before everything." So did Aegon, who didn't want to marry her, didn't want children. And the throne. And the war.

4. "Alicent hugs Helaena because she understands that Aegon did the same to her," a the author adds a piece of the script where nothing is said about it. Alicent is outraged by Aegon's behavior: that he is cheating on his wife, that he raped a maid, and feels sorry for her daughter for having such a husband. Not because he's an abuser of Helaena. Do you think she would have left it like that and did nothing? Even in the script they are not sure why she hugs her.

5. "Aegon ignores her as a wife until he needs sex (sometimes, she doesn't give consent)" and next to it is a text where Helaena directly says "except sometimes when he's drunk." Everyone understand it as: Aegon can't bed her unless he's drunk. However, it's also possible that he simply doesn't pay attention to her until he's drunk. Alcohol often makes people more gentle and receptive, and it's possible that he speaks to her when he's in that state.

It's not mentioned anywhere that Aegon is raping her; instead, Helaena is laughing at the toast, mocking him as a husband. She says "it isn't so bad". And Aegon looks disgraced. Victim of abuse would not say it in front of everyone while her grandad clapped at the said toast. Autistic or not you won't behave so brazenly with a person who abuses you (I know autistic people (family member) before you come after me).

6. Aegon made fun of Jace, made him lose his temper, and in response, Jace made Aegon angry by dancing with his wife. Where is "sexual harassment" in jokes or what is the author of the article trying to convey? To Baela – yeah, you can maybe say that. Also, let's not apply 21th century on the medieval characters.

7. "Helaena feels lonely, which is common among victims of abuse." I don't even want to comment on that. People can feel lonely, especially with a family like that. And because she's different. No one understands her, so they rarely talk to her, of course, she's lonely.

8. Oh my God!!!! A teenage boy is joking about sex and mastrubing!!! Never happened before (let's me remind you of the show called GoT). After all he "gets pleasure from exercising sexual power over others who disagree." Uh, voyeurism is a kink, I'm sure teenage boys do worse when the puberty hits. Did he hurt someone while jerking off? And Aegon clearly has sexual deviations, which can be discussed separately.

9. Helaena is his sister, siblings often call each other names, consider each other stupid, etc. It doesn't mean that he hates her or doesn't love her. Same comes to Aemond.

10. For some reason, the phrase at the Driftmark lead the author to believe that consummation "wasn't consensual and only on his terms." Where does this conclusion come from? There is no explanation. Because you think he would do it. Because you think he abuses her. It's not proven anywhere, once again.

11. The author also refers to Phia, and I remember very well an interview where the actress said that "Aegon was the lesser of two evils": he was her family, and she's going to stay close to her family, she's safe, also she can do whatever she wants. If she would be married off, most likely, she wouldn't have been allowed to do that, and she would have been forced to conform to societal norms, with her husband taking advantage of her (most of times marriage worked like that).

12. I don't understand why Aegon is always the root of their problems when they were married by adults who could have waited longer and asked for a non-consummation. Do we know how their wedding night went – no, no one knows.

13. "Daemon didn't consummate the marriage, so it's not necessary." And let's play the show to see how only a lazy person doesn't poke his nose. They tell him: "you should be with your wife, you should consummate marriage, you should make an heir", as even Rhea herself says. Their marriage is not considered legitimate. The fact that Daemon only can have sex with white-haired women is another question.

14. "Aegon visits brothels and rapes maids while Helaena takes care of the children and household duties."

The series makes it clear that he visits brothels (like most men in grrm world), and there was the maid. Maybe more: the show implies it, but doesn't says directly.

What does Helaena do? They are a prince and a princess, and they have much fewer responsibilities. Servants do everything: they feed, dress, and educate the children. This is not the 21st century, where mothers raise their children themselves. Judging by her room, she has a lot of free time to spent on her hobbies.

Both Phia and Tom agrees: it's not a happy marriage, but also, not the worst. They don't understand each other, he's cheating on her, but non of them (or the writers) ever stated he's abusing her. Do you remember how Alicent reacted to Aemond dragging her daughter? Do you really believe she would stay silent? Have you ever seen in the show that Aegon was cruel to her or did something to her?

Helaena says "I was happier before I became the queen". She confronts Aemond on her brother's behalf. When she's scared – she tells him her thoughts. When their son dies – she wants his presence.

In conclusion, I do not understand the fandom's desire to demonize Aegon, as half of the points in the article have no evidence. As the desire to make Helaena more miserable, because someone transfers his experience to the character, creating an OC for himself. As I see a lot of people do in the fandom.

Also, do you really believe the writers are that smart: hiding clues in the script? Yeah, the same writers who couldn't even come up with a solid reason for Aemond to burn Aegon. And the same ones who forget their own characters every episode.

‼️ TRIGGER WARNING: CSA ‼️

My thoughts on Phia's interviews talking about Helaena's marriage as an autistic survivor and lover of Helaena:

Helaena was married aged fourteen (a child) to someone shown as sexually predacious (even described as evil by Phia), and then was pregnant not soon after.

These are all glaring signs of CSA.

All Helaena's relationships interest me and I want to explore the reality of their marriage at this time when she was a little girl. This was the first big trauma of her endlessly tragic life. Phia has discussed how Helaena puts duty before everything, and this is the root.

Helaena and Aegon are shown and described to have a distant and strained relationship, not one of mutual respect or healthy partnership. Let's explore this in the context of abuse.

Below is a script exerpt of Helaena looking at Aegon with “flat detachment” (disassociation) when faced with the aftermath of him raping Dyana. Furthermore, how Alicent hugs her as she realises that Helaena has endured a similar fate to herself.

Credit: Darksvster

Now, at the dinner we see them again. But this time, Helaena makes a toast: “Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk,” as Aegon rolls his eyes at her, implying that he neglects her as a wife except for when he needs sex (something she doesn't get a say in). He can also be seen sexually harassing Baela and Jace as Helaena sits next to him, trying to focus on other things.

From the script we get more about their dynamic in descriptions of how “lonely she has been”. She's so happily surprised that someone would pay her attention as Jace did. Loneliness and low self esteem are extremely common in survivors, just like with Helaena.

Credit: Darksvster

At Laena’s funeral, referring to their betrothal, Aegon outright calls her an idiot and (in my opinion) makes a sexual ‘joke’ involving her. This younger Aegon also masturbates out of windows, showing the pleasure he reaps from exerting sexual power over non-consenting others.

That isn't a sign that she was respected. Alongside Aegon's persistent characterisation as a sexual assaulter, implies that any consummation wasn't going to be consensual, but on his terms only.

She was a child forced to marry her raping brother and led a very lonely life.

Exploring this dynamic is incredibly important, and how it develops, but I don’t see the point if we don’t acknowledge the reality of this from Helaena’s point of view.

This life was forced upon her by the system, Aegon included.

Apologies for lack of a better example, but Daemon didn't consummate his marriage. It's not essential. If he respected her he wouldn't have had sex with her. He did because he wanted to and could without repercussions. It’s not nice to think about, but in this deeply patriarchal society, he has an immense power over her that she does not also have over him. He was abused, just as Helaena, but he also abuses her. It is not as simple as them both being equal, because they are not. In daily routine, he can frequent brothels and assault the help, she has to take care of the children and do whatever is asked of her.

It hurts and troubles me to see people act like Helaena isn’t a victim, especially with what we're shown.

At 14 she was forced to marry her rapist brother and used by him for sex. No child could consent to that.

I'm not saying that this is everything their dynamic was or will be, or that she hates him in any way, but just that this is at their core. It purposefully parallels Alicent's child marriage to Viserys.

Please be kind. I'm not attacking but trying to shed light on this. I'm trying to open up this discussion to what Helaena's perspective was and to do some honest scene, relationship and character analysis. 

[in-the-drowning-deep]

Why My OC Sucks

This is delightful, thanks @rooks-dagger for the tag! Gently tagging @maagisterpavus, @gatesofminrathous, and @litchigaming, if any of you would like to join in!

Esha Mercar

1. Stubborn

Esha has a very distinct moral compass. She will not budge on it - not a step. She's inherited every inch of her Legatus father's backbone, and she hasn't yet found a hill she's not willing to die on. She's faced down gods, and earned the Thedosian equivalent of a PhD mostly out of spite for the people in the Minrathous Circle who thought she couldn't, so it definitely comes in handy!

It's just... not so great for making friends and building people up in peacetime, or for knowing when to give up on a fight.

2. Impulsive

For a woman with her level of education, Esha tends to treat thinking as surprisingly overrated. (Maybe because she doesn't want to spend too much time in her own head. Who knows what she might find there?)

Anyway, if she gets an idea, she'll generally do it. Whether that's a wildly ill-advised situationship with the woman who killed her original PhD supervisor pre-Veilguard, bringing down a building on slavers in Nessus, or a Hail Andraste-type plan she comes up with while leading the Veilguard. As @rooks-dagger once described her - she will always swing for the fences. She doesn't know how to do anything different.

Except that those plans miss, sometimes. And when they do, they get her (less important) and the people around her (very important) hurt.

3. Confrontational

If you're doing something Esha doesn't approve of? She'll tell you so, and she won't mince words. She never had that many friends in Minrathous, in no small part because of that tendency, and she took a long while to warm up to Emmrich (the Mourn Watch's casual use of undead slaves freaked her the fuck out, what do you mean slavery might not end with death?)

Harding's a useful counterweight here, though. By endgame, while Esha will still pick fights where they're needed, she's learned that sometimes gentler words can win out, too. Which is partly also down to the influence of...

Lucien Trevelyan

1. Stubborn

I mean, he's a Trevelyan - there's a reason their family imagery tends to feature draft horses and goats. If he sets his mind to do something, he will do everything in his power to get it done - even if he burns himself out in the process, or ends up losing far more than he gains.

2. Trusting

Or... not trusting, per se, but he looks for the best in people, always. It's one of his greatest strengths and flaws, because sometimes he'll keep on holding out that peace offering far past the point where he should. He's learned to be a little more circumspect when other people's lives are on the line, but he's still not great when it's 'just' his own.

3. Proud

I touched on this in the OC as Demon meme, but while Lucien thinks of himself - and comes across to most people - as quite humble for someone of his status, that's not entirely the case. Outwardly, he doesn't think he's fit to hold high office, and sees himself as doing it entirely out of duty.

But he fundamentally does see himself as Andraste's Chosen Herald, even if he believes the purpose of that role is to serve others. He believes he is uniquely positioned for the task in front of him, and that tendency means he's reluctant to seek help or admit when he's feeling overwhelmed. Bull helps a lot with that, but it remains a core part of his personality nonetheless.

[okavara]

For the past few days now, I’ve had a burning question about a scenario involving Cryptid Kel; what would he do/how would he react if ASO decides to consider him part of the anomalous zone and its denizens, and thus ASO sends another poor soul out there to not only to do the regular tasks as well, but also to study him in a way regular surveillance can’t? Assuming this new guy has about as much of a clue of what is going on as Kel did when he first arrived? I guess ASO’s equivalent of throwing a D-class in with an SCP and seeing what happens.

I can just imagine the heart-stopping panic cryptid dr.Kel will feel as an E-mail notifying him about a new colleague comes in, (and also the frustration of thinking that ASO was listening to his earlier cries for help, and it took them a whole quarter year to hire someone to help)

This is EXACTLY the kind of noodle cooking I wanna see when rotating CotV in the brain OOH OOH OOH okay okay. I've answered stuff like this before but now I can finally talk about POTENTIAL REASONS they might even send a new guy Chapter 6 spoilers under the cut for CotV for those who haven't read that far yet etc etc

We know now from (???) and Bao's conversation that the greys got bored of Kel. So, a possible new reason to send another Canary could be a proposition from (???). The greys have kind of stopped bullying Kel because 1: He's not as terrified of their shit as he should be, he just kills and eats what they send, and 2: it's too much of a resource sink when the arirals keep blowing their shit up

Realistically I think they'd wait until the arirals left (which they won't really do, at least as long as they can afford to) but. Yeah. Maybe as a test instead of killing Kelryptid (he still does his job, whatever.) usually they kill their canaries when their contract ends, but Kelryptid is an exception just because he's. Weird. What's going on with him. Bao wanted to let the experiment run a little longer than usual because of the strange circumstance.

Not sure why they don't double up canaries, so I couldn't say if this would actually happen, but I think it's reasonable that eventually (???) goes "Hey let's just throw a new guy into the ring. Why not. While we're at it, assign him/her/them to send us some notes and intel about wtf is happening to him"

Kelryptid's reaction to this would be... Bad. It would also be bad for him. It absolutely would be a heart-stopping moment, once he realized another human was there. Either through an E-mail (which I actually find likely) or, as a complete surprise, showing up as a second yellow blip on the radar.

The confusion. The bargaining. It couldn't be real, that there could be another person. He'd become so anxious and scared that he could nearly throw up from it, but- it's a different kind of fear than he regularly experiences in Dunkeltaler.

The fear of rejection.

He'd be terrified what a new person meant. Would they hurt him? If ASO sent another, then... His heart would sink at the implications.

No... No!

They sent another. They sent someone to keep doing his job. Was he not sending enough drives? Were his hashcodes incomplete, despite his perfect score?

Maybe there's something else about this position.

Either way, he has to get himself the fuck away and hidden for a bit while he figures out how to face the first human he'll have seen while looking like how he does now.

He'd try to leave notes out, and maybe lock up the base first just to buy himself a little extra time, before hiding out on the roof with a notepad, or eventually fleeing to the ariral camp. "You're not alone, this is my house now, don't be scared when you see me okay? I don't look human anymore."

He'd do his best to help the new guy, explaining everything he'd encountered so far, how things work in Dunkeltaler, and show him his field guide to Dunkeltaler that he wrote himself in the case of his own death and someone new being hired to replace him. It's clear to Kel that's what happened with the last guy- I think Kel is smart enough to have figured that out by day 120+ or whenever they end up sending a new guy.

Well... Until things start to go bad.

Be careful, new Canary.

There are struggles he's about to go through in some future chapters. VAGUE SPOILERS BELOW

Deep within him is an urge of violence brought out by his new form (Something Furfur gets a good hoot about watching him feel conflicted over), a literal bloodthirst. The taboo nature of human meat is what attracts him, but other meats can work just as well.

It would be a very slow onset- well. I should probably just write the future chapters huh? hehe. I will say, it's complicated for him, he could never hurt another soul, and he wouldn't unless if the situation was very dire and there were many, many compounding factors that forced his hand, so the new guy should be relatively safe.

There will be times when Kelryptid does have to leave the base though, to make sure the other guy is safe from him.

[chaeuvy]

⸝⸝ ＃┆ 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑! ⎯ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 pt 2.

summary: Caught in sudden danger, you’re backed against a wall—until he steps in. Without thinking, he shields you with his own body, taking the hits meant for you. He doesn’t fight back—not while you’re behind him, too close to risk. Pain means nothing if it keeps you safe.Only when his crew arrives does he finally turn to you—his voice low, his eyes unreadable. He won’t say it, but it’s clear: He took the damage because it was you. And he’d do it again.

ft. mitsuki kiryu, hayato suo, akihiko nirei.

warnings: violence, injury, swearing, language, physical contact, wbk boys are in loveee,

wc: 1.7k

PT. 1 here with ren kaji, sakura haruki, hajime umemiya.

˗ˏˋ ꩜ MITSUKI KIRYU ˚｡ ꒱

YOU.. barely had time to realize something was wrong.

The voices got sharper. The air shifted — like the moment before lightning strikes.

And then suddenly — he was in front of you.

Mitsuki.

No raised voice. No panic. Just movement. Sharp. Fluid. Decisive.

You didn’t even have time to question it before your back hit the wall — his body shielding yours, his arm snapping out instinctively, bracing against the wall near your head.

He was close. So close, it pulled the air from your lungs.

“Don’t move,” he said — soft, like a warning, like a promise.

Eyes forward. Shoulders squared. Controlled. Still.

Then the first blow came.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t react.

The hit landed square against his ribs — brutal.

Another one followed, higher — his shoulder, You saw the tension go through him, but he didn’t do so much as blink.

His arms stayed down. Hands loose. Not from weakness — from choice.

Because you were behind him.

Too close.

Too close to risk a counterattack. Too close to do anything except take it.

He could have ended this in seconds. You’d seen what he was capable of.

But that would mean moving. Shifting. Letting you go — even for a second.

So he stayed still. Let the pain come. Let it settle in his bones, rather than risk one miscalculation that might let it touch you.

You whispered his name. “Mitsuki…”

You didn’t expect him to react — but he did.

Just slightly.

A pause in his breathing. A subtle twitch in the corner of his mouth.

He heard it. And he felt it. And for a heartbeat, it shook something he didn’t have time to process.

You. This close. Your voice. Your trust.

But he didn’t turn.

Didn’t speak.

He held. And then—

“KIRYU!!”

His crew. Voices, chaos, impact. The rhythm of fists, the crash of anger.

His people moved like lightning — fast, coordinated, clean.

Kiryu didn’t join in. He stayed.

One second longer. Back still shielding you. Breathing controlled, chest rising and falling like nothing had touched him — even though it had.

Then slowly — deliberately — he turned.

His eyes met yours.

“You’re not hurt,” he said, not as a question, but as a fact he needed confirmed.

You shook your head. Quiet.

But you could barely breathe.

Because he was still so close.

Because in that look — calm and unreadable — something flickered beneath the surface.

Something he didn’t let you see for long.

He stepped back. Just enough to give you space.

“I told you not to move,” he added, voice lower, almost… softer.

Then he turned away. Like it didn’t shake him. Like protecting you was just another part of the plan.

But it wasn’t.

He didn’t plan this. He didn’t think. He just moved.

Because it was you.

And he couldn’t let you get hurt — even if it meant standing there and bleeding without ever lifting a hand.

He wouldn’t say it. Not now. Maybe never.

But you knew.

˗ˏˋ ꩜ HAYATO SUO ˚｡ ꒱

You didn’t see it coming.

But he did.

Hayato moved the second things felt wrong. The sound of footsteps turned too fast, too sharp. It wasn’t thinking. It was pure instinct.

You.

He reached you in one breathless moment—grabbed your wrist, yanked you back—and then suddenly—

Your back slammed into the wall.

And he was in front of you, chest rising fast, body tense like a wire pulled too tight.

“Stay behind me,” he muttered. Low. Quick. Urgent. Like he didn’t have time to say it again.

And then the first hit came. He didn’t move.

It landed in his side—solid. You felt his body jerk, but he didn’t stumble.

Another hit, straight into his shoulder. Hard enough to make you flinch.

But Hayato didn’t block. Didn’t swing.

He didn’t even raise his voice.

Because you were there.

Pressed so close he could feel your breath on the back of his neck.

Too close to fight like he usually did.

Too close to risk hurting you by accident.

So he just stood there. Taking it.

His fists were clenched. You could see the tension in his arms, the restraint—it was killing him not to strike back.

But every time he shifted, he felt you behind him. And that was enough to make him lock down.

“What a pain,” he hissed under his breath, more at himself than anyone else.

Because he hated this.

Being still. Not protecting the way he wanted to. Not fighting.

But if it meant you didn’t get touched?

He’d take every hit.

You whispered his name. “Hayato—”

He froze for a split second.

Just hearing you say it almost broke his focus. Like something inside him cracked and wanted to turn around. Just to check you. Just to see you.

But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not until—

“SUO!!”

The crash came fast. His Friends—his people. Like lightning hitting pavement.

Someone flew into the attacker, fists swinging. Voices yelling.

It was chaos. Beautiful, needed chaos.

But Hayato didn’t move.

He still had you against the wall.

Still had his arms up, shoulders tight, body guarding yours like his life meant nothing if it kept you safe.

Then, finally, as the noise faded and the threat was gone—he turned.

His face was flushed, eye sharp but worried.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff. Softer than he wanted it to be.

You nodded. Slowly. He was so close—closer than you’d ever been. And something about his expression didn’t quite match the cocky attitude he usually wore like armor.

He didn’t look away. Not right away.

For just one second, the way he looked at you said everything he refused to admit out loud.

He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just moved.

Because it was you.

And that was enough.

Then, of course, he ruined it. Just a little.

“You better owe me for this, you know,” he muttered, stepping back—but slower than he should’ve.

Still watching you. Still pretending it was no big deal.

Even though it was.

To him, it was everything.

˗ˏˋ ꩜ HAYATO SUO ˚｡ ꒱

You didn’t know what was happening at first.

The tension in the air shifted — fast, heavy — and suddenly, it wasn’t safe anymore. You turned your head just as voices sharpened and heavy footsteps approached.

And then—

“Get behind me!”

Akihiko.

He was shaking. You could see it — in his hands, in the way his voice cracked. But even so, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you behind him in a clumsy, frantic motion.

You hit the wall — not hard — but enough to feel it. And suddenly, he was in front of you. Arms spread, breathing fast. Not like a fighter. Not like someone who had control.

Like someone terrified — but standing there anyway.

His voice wavered:

“D-Don’t come any closer!”

But they did.

The first punch hit him square in the side. You heard the sound — the thud — and saw his whole body flinch. He didn’t block it. Didn’t move fast enough.

Another blow hit his shoulder, and he cried out — not loudly, but enough for your chest to tighten.

“Stop it! I-I’m serious!”

He wasn’t. And everyone knew it.

But he still didn’t move.

Didn’t run.

Didn’t step aside.

Because you were behind him.

And no matter how scared he was — no matter how much his legs wanted to run — he couldn’t let them near you.

You whispered his name. “Akihiko…”

He looked over his shoulder just a little, wide-eyed, tears in them, terrified — and yet, his voice came softer.

“I’ve got you… okay?”

And just when it looked like he might collapse under the next hit—

“NIREI!!”

The voices came crashing in. Familiar ones. Loud. Fierce.

His friends.

In an instant, the attackers were off of him — thrown back, knocked down, dealt with.

The chaos passed like a storm, fast and loud.

But Akihiko just stood there.

Breathing hard. Shoulders trembling. Still between you and what just happened.

Then slowly, carefully, he turned to face you.

His eyes were glossy. His lower lip was bleeding. He looked like he might cry — from fear, from relief, from the fact that he actually did it.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t get hit?”

You shook your head. Speechless.

And then he smiled — this tiny, broken little smile — proud and scared all at once.

“I was really scared,” he admitted. “But… I couldn’t let them touch you.”

And in that moment, you realized:

He wasn’t strong. He didn’t know how to fight.

But he still threw himself in front of you.

And that kind of bravery? Was the real kind.

← WBK ┆ NAVI →

a/n : thanks for reading.. pt 1 with ren kaji, sakura haruki, hajime umemiya.

© 2025 chaeuvy ; ━━ do not copy or translate my work !

[mariako-750]

I'm making multiple posts in which I talk about Ragatha because I see myself in her pt.2 (except this time I don't)

TW: Mentions of domestic/child abuse

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Picking up where we left off, I talked about Ragatha's low self-worth and repressed feelings caused by the household she lived in. Let's talk about that more, shall we?

I'd first like to direct your attention to something someone else noticed( @actuallyjustabiscuit and here's their post): When Ragatha begins to talk about her mother, she freezes up and subconsciously fixes her loose dress strap.

Knowing she come from wealth, she most definitely had to keep up a reputation for herself and her family. Sort of combine Isabella and Mirabel Madrigal from Encanto, in the sense that she may have been forced to be perfect and was overlooked by her family and possibly others because she couldn't meet those standards.

Now, her mother? Well in Ragatha's own words: "my mother was... a lot."

That is honestly the most heartbreaking part to me. Because even though there's tons of parents who pressure their kids the same way and do all the stuff her mother did, at least they still hold some love for their kids.

Her mom? No. Ragatha's mom, at least from her own perspective, didn't see her as a person. She probably didn't even see her as her own child. She saw Ragatha as a thing to praise herself with when she met those expectations. A trophy. In the sense that she only ever admitted to being her mother like "Oh, that girl with gold medal? The top of her class? Yeah, I'm her mother, she gets all that from me." And when Ragatha didn't meet those expectations "She's not mine."

And don't you dare look me in the eyes and say that that isn't at least a bit possible or even believable, because no matter what, her mom definitely saw her as a trophy more than a human being.

You bet your ass that that guilt-tripping involved some version of "I went through all this pain to bring you into this world and this is how you repay me? Being a disappointment?"

(I am REAAAALLY reaching in this next part ughhhh)

Now, I may be reading too much into this and the avatars they possess might just be existing characters that they chose or customized before entering the game, but just let me get real for a moment.

What if the abuse was more than just emotional? What if Ragatha being a ragdoll symbolize something more physical about her abuse? Am I saying that her mother would get physical with her during arguments? Yes, I am actually.

I know the hand is just supposed to be a nervous/shy gesture(and if you are an abuse victim please do correct me!!), but I can't help but see that along with her ragdoll avatar and think it may hint to an even darker past. Maybe that's also something the dress strap represented, her subconsciously hiding her abuse.

I wanted to use this image for another part of this "analysis"(*cough cough* rambling *cough cough*), but I can't let go of the fact that she chooses to laugh at her own pain to get Pomni on her side again.

Yes it was a "um awkwaaaard" sort of joke, but she only found out that Pomni finds Jax's violence funny at the end of the episode. Why did she think that Pomni would find that memory funny?

Is it because she thinks Pomni somewhat dislikes her so her pain must be funny?

Or is it because at some point when she was alive, she would make fun of her pain to entertain others? What if she had siblings and she was the golden child? What if they resented her for being the trophy? What if she tried making them laugh at her pain, her abuse in an attempt to make them hate her less? What if it worked?

Okay, that last part is just rambling and assuming and headcanon, so I'll do like Raggy and quickly down this angst.

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Part 1, part 3 soon?