#and we never so back (we never left actually)

[tracksidebaby]

Sleepy Guy

Summary: Lando Norris cannot be left alone for longer than thirty seconds before he is fast asleep.

Requested / No

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55, mclaren and 992,901 others

yn.ln: he's just a sleepy guy

username: hes so cute i love him

lando: oi you muppet who said you could post that

| yn.ln: ignore him guys hes just grumpy because he needs another nap

| lando: it was one time, i dont even nap that much

| maxfewtrell: mate you were in my house for less than five minutes last week before you fell asleep on my couch

| yn.ln: @/maxfewtrell please start sending pictures to me, thank you

| lando: dont you dare max

username: i love these two together

username: creep

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, mclaren, charles_leclerc and 822,901 others

yn.ln: "it was one time" he said, "i dont even nap that much" he said. anyway heres lando napping at 1pm

username: this is the content we want

lando: stop posting pictures of me sleeping!!!

| yn.ln: no

username: dont let him stop you queen

username: iconic

Twitter /

Replies:

username: she is so funny😭

username: not her getting the grid involved

username: bestie why do you want pictures of him sleeping😭

| yn.ln: me and @/maxfewtrell are testing a theory

carlossainz55: texting you rn

| lando: you're dead to me

| carlossainz55: you are my best friend but she said i am legally obligated

lando: do NOT send my absolute numpty of a girlfriend pictures of me asleep

YN's Instagram Story /

Story replies:

maxfewtrell: where's the option of he was asleep before you hit post?

maxfewtrell: i give him less than 30 seconds

yn.ln: he was gone in 23

Story replies:

lando: i hate you

username: im in love with both of you

username: my parents omg

Instagram /

liked by: lando, carlossainz55, mclaren and 982,901 others

yn.ln: look who stayed awake long enough to take me out

lando: i love you 🧡

| lando: wait i take that back i just read the caption

| yn.ln: no take backs🥰

maxfewtrell: proud of you lando 💪🏻

username: lando is never living down the sleepy boy allegations

username: idk who im more jealous of

username: mom and dad are so hot

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 992,901 others

yn.ln: this is @/lando. his hobbies include racing and being unconscious

maxfewtrell: perfectly summed him up

| yn.ln: right like there's literally nothing else to know about him

| lando: nothing except for the fact that im in love with the biggest idiot in the world

| lando: introducing you two was the worst mistake of my life

username: hes so dramatic

mclaren: as long as he stays awake to race he can nap away

username: i would LOVE to see her camera roll

Instagram:

liked by: lando, mclaren, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri and 1,092,901 others

yn.ln: caught in the act 📸

lando: hiding your phone from you

| yn.ln: im just giving the people what they want

username: no but look how he looks at her

username: hes in love

username: i love how annoyed he acts in her comments but you cant deny that smile

YN's Instagram Story /

Story replies:

lando: he is dead to me

charles_leclerc: wow I thought I was your favourite

| yn.ln: send me pictures of the cute boy asleep and you will be

mclaren: WE WANT TO BE YOUR FAVOURITE

| yn.ln: admin, you know what to do

maxfewtrell: how are you actually getting them involved

| yn.ln: hey ive been around as long as lando, im a grid favourite!!

Instagram /

liked by: yn.ln, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 2,792,901 others

lando: rip to carlando 💔

username: wait what happened?!?

username: they fell out?? omg

| username: no no they didnt carlos just sent a pic of lando sleeping to landos gf

| username: wait what??

| username: fr im so confused

| username: omg no you have to go to @/yn.ln's page rn its sooo good

| username: its basically a page dedicated to lando sleeping and a few pics of her when she remembers

carlossainz55: I love you lando please forgive me

| lando: you picked your side, suffer

Instagram /

liked by: mclaren, maxfewtrell, yn.ln, oscarpiastri and 2,792,901 others

lando: since my gf never posts nice pictures of me anymore, here's some from this month 🙄

username: LMAO HE HATES THIS

mclaren: our favourite couple

username: he rlly said i love her but shes annoying

yn.ln: god we're so hot, i love us

yn.ln: i love you

| lando: i love you too, even if you are annoying

Instagram /

liked by: mclaren, lando, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri and 1,792,901 others

yn.ln: why yes this is a man sleeping on the floor of the paddock.

lando: you're not even here ?????

lando: tell me which one of them sent it

| oscarpiastri: 🤐🤐

| lando: YOU!?!? MY OWN TEAM MATE 😭

| lando: first carlando dies and now landoscar

| lando: the betrayals just keep coming

| yn.ln: it was a pleasure working with you, @/oscarpiastri

username: damn yn is just making friendships with everyone on the grid

| username: shes been around these guys ever since lando joined f1 they love her

Instagram /

liked by: lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxfewtrell and 1,792,901 others

yn.ln: i mean...at least take the uniform off

username: hes so sleepy

lando: WHO WAS IN MY DRIVERS ROOM

| yn.ln: your mum sent me that one

| lando: YOU TURNED MY MUM AGAINST ME!??

| yn.ln: please we both know im her favourite

username: I feel like im reading their private texts

Instagram /

liked by: lando, mclaren, maxfewtrell, and 1,792,901 others

yn.ln: we have a date in thirty minutes, @/lando

username: ooo someones in trouble

username:  did he wake up tho

username: the others have all been good fun but this one feels like a fight if he doesnt wake up

username: obsessed with the fact she looks that good and yet the first two slides are him asleep

| username: on brand really

maxfewtrell: I'll pick you up in half an hour, no need to waste the night

| lando: stay away

Story replies:

yn.ln: love you🧡

maxfewtrell: lucky mate you'd have been on the couch

| lando: tell me about it

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 1,792,901 others

yn.ln: i mean, it's a step up from sleeping in fireproofs but come on

username: bro was too tired

username:  idk he looks comfy

username: still not the worst place hes slept

| yn.ln: fr sleeping with the luggage?? nothing to lando

lando: this is bullying

Instagram /

liked by: lando, mclaren, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, skysportsf1 and 2,792,901 others

yn.ln: how?? just?? how??

lando: who sent this one

| yn.ln this one was live on @/skysportsf1 baby

| skysportsf1: anything for you yn 🫡

| username: she even has sky sports on it omg

username: i fear for his safety in this one

lando: I wasn't even asleep here, I was just resting my eyes

| yn.ln: of course you were baby, that's why you stayed like that for twenty minutes until will woke you up

| blondie_wdj: shes right mate, you were snoring

Instagram /

liked by: lando, mclaren, maxfewtrell and 1,792,901 others

yn.ln: imagine looking this good after waking up from a nap 🥵 like what do you mean hes mine???

username: girlie is down bad today

username: she remembered he was hot

lando: still not great but ill take it because at least im awake

| yn.ln: still not great he says like he doesn't look like a fucking god

| username: oh we're being unhinged today i love it

lando: what do you mean "hes mine" like im not the lucky one but ok

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, mclaren, maxverstappen1 and 2,392,901 others

yn.ln: why yes this is a man sleeping on the floor of the paddock. (part two)

lando: alright. who sent it?

maxverstappen1: sorry mate

lando: I expected better from you

username: i cant defend him anymore

username:  i mean...he looks comfy but ??

yn.ln: i love this one

| lando: creep

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 2,992,901 others

yn.ln: I swear I left for less than thirty seconds

username: hes so cute

username: lando come on man

username: my favourite thing about these are that the posts arent even spread that far apart

| username: real like shes not having to wait days or weeks, its just a daily occurrence

lando: ok in my defence im jet lagged

| yn.ln: and all the other times?

| lando: i....have nothing

Instagram /

liked by: mclaren, maxfewtell, lando, and 1,92,901 others

yn.ln: lando has never met a flat surface he can't sleep on

lando: im not even asking who sent them. the whole grid is dead to me

| yn.ln: he doesn't mean it guys, he just needs a nap 🧡

username: lmaooooo lando beefing with everyone

username: hes just sleepy

username: hes just jealous yn is everyones favourite

Instagram /

liked by: lando, maxfewtrell, mclaren, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 3,982,901 others

yn.ln: my sleepy boy 🧡 happy birthday, my love. I was there when the first picture was taken years ago and I’m still here to take new pictures today, to create new memories with you, to experience life with you 🥰 I am so so in love with you and so proud of everything you have done since you were that little boy I met and knew I had to be friends with because he was going to be incredible! Even if you are the sleepiest person I know, I could think of nobody better to come home to every night, to laugh with as we scroll through my photo gallery, to argue with, to love more than I have ever loved. I cannot wait to keep growing with you, to watch as you succeed, to watch you thrive. I love you baby 🥰 

lando: baby!!! I love you so much, more than words could ever say! I am so grateful that you want to be mine everyday, even if I fall asleep when you're mid rant. I love you baby, can't wait to celebrate with you for the rest of our lives

username: im far too single for this

username: the birthday post had to be of him asleep

username: they're so in love omg

Instagram /

liked by: mclaren, maxfewtell, yn.ln, and 4,92,901 others

lando: got you, you muppet

yn.ln: this is....honestly fair

username: a long time coming

username: theyre so cute omg

mclaren: our favourite sleepy couple

[yuurei20]

June 22 Seiyuu Talk Show Summary

(Disclaimer: not exact translations, paraphrasing and summarizing)

It opened by showing the seven music videos, hosted by VAs for Cater🔸, Jamil🐍, Vil👑 and Rook🏹 !

🏹 says that while changing back stage, he and 👑 were singing Pomefiore’s song together 🎶

First topic: Twst MV Corner

Heartslabyul's song 🔸: I didn't think that we would ever be singing. It's been 5 years. When I heard it I thought, "Finally, the day that Cater will sing has come!" I always thought it would be neat if he could sing one day, as he is a member of the pop music club.

Scarabia's song 🐍： I thought it was a really cool song when I first got it, that rhythm. I recorded first. When 🦦 recorded he messaged me and said "I listened to your part and recorded to match you. It is really cool."

🏹 imitates Ortho in Ignihyde's song, it is amazing

Diasomnia's song (Talking about how they couldn't read the kanji of the lyrics.) 🔸：Could you all read any of that? 👑：I had to look words up. 🏹：They used the "you" kanji (耀) from my name. I'd never seen it used anywhere before.

Second Topic: 5th Anniversary Reflection Talk

Memories from Twst 🐍：Book 4 overblot's recording. Was very nervous, it left such a big impression on me.

🔸：In the very beginning we all recorded together. The feeling of "Twst is really beginning here," the senpai VA, how I was going to portray Cater Diamond--I was so nervous. That very starting moment left a big impression on me.

👑：Vil-sama had a lot of dialogue in Book 5. There was a lot of going deep into the character. Memories of recording the songs together…

🏹：Vil-sama had a lot of dialogue in Book 6, too. 👑：I had a feeling that there was a lot of time spent particularly on Vil-sama's recordings. I do not know how it was for everyone else, but…when there was something I came up with on my own there was always additional direction. I came to know Vil-sama very well.

Main Story Book 7: Reflection Talk (Showing sprites from Book 7 dreams)

🐍：I am actually a pop-nii-san. So I got to be a little like that in the dream. I really enjoyed it.

👑：Muscley Epel. I had no idea they would go as far as that.

⚠️Book 7 Spoiler Start

🔸：The thing that surprised me the most was the great things that Cater said when waking Ace up. "Cater Diamond, this is the man that you are!" I started to cry. I recorded together with ❤️ and almost cried there, too.

🏹：When debating who to wake up first, Ace or Trey, Cater recommends Ace first because Deuce was lonely. It would obviously have been better to wake Trey up first but Cater was like a big brother and offered to wake Ace up first for Deuce, instead.

⚠️Book 7 Spoiler End

Overblot group solo songs are coming!

Riddle: Red Heart Rage Leona: Still Infallible, Until Tangible Azul: ABYSS Jamil: Snake and Blink Vil: Crépuscule Idia: GGWP Malleus: 祝福 (shukufuku / blessing, name of Malleus’ unique magic)

👑：This is our first time hearing these, too. I really want to hear the full songs too. 🐍：I was so nervous just now. I was peeking out into the audience from backstage to watch audience reactions.

Full songs are to be released on Aniplex YouTube from July!

Then came discussion of the goods available for the Blazing Jewel Live. There are special lights that change color not only according to dorm, but each character has a unique color!

🐍: Can I try on the jacket 👑: You’re never going to fit 🐍: It fits! 👑: Wait that’s so cool

🔶 peeling the jacket off of 🐍 they are so funny

Announcement: oveblot animation by Cloverworks to be added!

MAIN STORY BOOK 7.5 ANNOUNCED!

Overblot Idia is coming 6.27!

New event: Chip and Dale!

[jenjensd]

This just perfectly encapsulates the cognitive dissonance of the boomers. One of the most catered to and therefore entitled generations. And now not everything caters specifically to them anymore so they view it as a hardship. All while claiming they grew up in the hardest times.

They can’t comprehend a world like their parents existed in. Because if they could, they’d see just how privileged they really were. Living in excess, limited moral scrutiny, no real understanding of the hardships being faced in other countries (as a result of US meddling), limited exposure to bigotry in their own country (it doesn’t affect me so why should I care attitude) and no awareness of the actual consequences of their lavish lifestyle.

Obviously this doesn’t refer to all the boomers, those who were black or queer or poor were definitely in the negatively affected groups. And some of the cis white people were actually out fighting for the rights of others as well as their own. But because the only news sources were bought and paid for by rich people and the government, they could just not tell you about it.

Something like the scale of the No Kings protest would be inconceivable back then because organising with a wider community was a lot harder. People were distant enough they couldn’t easily get the word out about large scale protests, and they’d have to advertise in places like community centres. The protests of the past were more difficult to arrange and spread the word on, but they still happened. And most boomers never heard about it. News sources often ignored, downplayed, or vilified them. They were seen as violent agitators and outsiders.

So that’s how boomers see protests today. I’m sure a good reason why a lot of boomers have spoken ill of the protests recently. They have been raised to see them as bad people and being in the wrong. Modern news isn’t any more favourable I don’t think, especially depending on the source itself, but they can’t hide things anymore like they used to. We live in such an interconnected world that over 5 million people on one day in over 2000 cities nationwide stood up for what they believe in. This is history. And boomers can’t handle being left in the past.

I mean, we knew, but it's nice to hear so succinctly

[crazziforazzi]

Red Jersey

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

One shot

Warning: MDNI, Possessive!P, Mild dom/sub dynamics

A/N: This started out as a cute little post-game one-shot I drafted after the match… then I went to work, came back, and rewrote it into whatever this is now. I will now be closing my laptop and pretending this never happened, okay? We don’t talk about it.

But in my defense, I did promise to deliver something if P dropped 20. Next time I’m betting on 25+

Word Count: 4k words

Azzi Fudd was in big fucking trouble.

Not the catastrophic, relationship-on-the-line kind of trouble. More the you knew what you were doing and now you’re dealing with the consequences kind. The kind of trouble where your girlfriend doesn’t raise her voice, doesn’t throw a fit, she just misses three open layups in the first half of a game she should be dominating and avoids eye contact the whole time.

That kind of trouble stung, because it meant Paige was actually upset. And Azzi couldn’t even say she hadn’t earned it.

It had started with the post. Their hard launch, yesterday. Paige had known it was coming, they’d even laughed about the case together when it arrived in the mail. She’d said Azzi could post it whenever she felt ready. Azzi had felt ready. Paige, apparently, had felt… too busy to react.

Sure, they had agreed Azzi would be the one to go public first, to slowly place the signs for their fans. But she hadn’t expected complete silence from her girlfriend. No like, no repost, not even their pink heart emoji. Just…nothing.

And that silence? It annoyed the hell out of her.

And she knew it was stupid. She knew Paige was barely online these days. She knew that one like didn’t matter when her girlfriend made sure she woke up to a good morning text every single day, and treated her like a princess whenever they were together. But still, Azzi liked to be claimed. In every way possible.

So yeah, maybe Azzi was feeling a little petty when she showed up to the Wings-Mystics game today. 

Her hair was still perfect from the event she’d been at the day before. Her natural makeup hit just right. She even pulled on the jeans Paige loved and decided on a cropped white UConn shirt that left just enough abs and her piercing peeking out. She looked good. Hot, even. First official WAG game and she was showing up for it.

But when she was greeted by Georgia Amoore instead of her own girlfriend first, with a cheeky grin and a "You want this?" Azzi caught the jersey, smiled, and pulled it on right over her tank top without missing a beat.

Okay, maybe she paused for a second. But only because she knew Paige would be annoyed. Her girlfriend was way too possessive for this kind of shit.

Which made her do it anyway.

She’d barely been sitting for a few minutes, casually chatting with the girl next to her, when she saw them. Or more accurately, felt it first. The stare.

When she looked up, Paige and Arike were jogging toward the sideline for warmups. Paige wasn’t even trying to hide the glare. Azzi met her eyes across the court and raised her brows, all faux innocence, like what? Someone else gave it to me.

She didn’t expect Paige to actually come over to her side of the court. But she did.

With Arike flanking her, both of them bouncing the balls casually as they strolled toward Azzi’s section like they had no other place to be. Paige didn’t say anything right away. She just gave her that look. The one that said 

You think you are funny, huh?

"Interesting jersey choice," Arike said with a sly grin, clearly enjoying the drama way too much.

"Georgia said she didn’t want it getting wrinkled on the bench," Azzi shot back smoothly. "I’m just doing her a favor."

"Mhm," Paige murmured, eyes flicking up and down slowly. "Bet she appreciated that."

Azzi tilted her head, playful. "Bet you noticed."

That earned her a look. Paige didn’t respond though,—just turned back to warm up again with Arike, glancing over at Azzi every once in a while before shaking her head. Each time, Azzi just smiled back sweetly, all charm and no remorse.

Now it was halftime, and Azzi sat very still in her seat, Georgia’s red jersey still on, and maybe regretting everything, just a little.

Paige had gone 1-for-6 in the second quarter alone. She’d gotten beat on defense twice, once by Citron, and passed up an open three just to dish to Smith, who wasn’t even ready for it. It was a turnover.

It was bad, like noticeably bad. The kind of bad that made sports Twitter start asking if something was wrong.

Azzi chewed the inside of her cheek, eyes fixed on the Wings bench. Paige was pacing in front of the seats, towel draped over her shoulders, head down. She wasn’t even pretending to be composed anymore. Nalyssa tried to say something to her. Paige just nodded and looked up, directly at Azzi. And Azzi… flinched.

Shit.

This wasn’t what she meant to do. This was supposed to be fun. 

Azzi thought she’d fire Paige up. That it’d get her locked in. She thought Paige would come out swinging, torch the Mystics for daring to even flirt with the idea of taking what was hers. She thought Paige would have the kind of game where she dropped 25 just to spite the Mystics, the kind of night that ended with her backing Azzi against the door as soon as they got to the hotel room and saying mine in every possible way.

That was what Azzi had expected. A little fuel. A little bite. 

Not throwing off her game. Not making her doubt everything.

Azzi tugged at the collar of the jersey, suddenly very aware of how obvious it was. Bright red. Amoore #8. 

Cute… if you weren’t Paige Bueckers watching your girlfriend flaunt someone else’s name across her chest less than 24 hours after hard launching your relationship.

She chewed her lip as the players made their way into the tunnel. Paige didn’t look up once. Not toward the bench. Not toward the crowd. Certainly not toward Azzi.

Azzi had wanted a reaction. Just… not this one.

This wasn’t the fun kind of jealousy. This wasn’t Paige rising to the moment and proving a point. This was Paige shutting down, overthinking, spiraling, playing like she was stuck in her own head.

And Azzi, still stubborn, still too proud to admit it out loud, was starting to realize that maybe she’d misjudged the line between teasing and testing.

She slouched lower in her seat, elbow on the armrest, chin buried in her palm. 

She decided to open the group chat. UConn Huskies 💙💍. 

It had been buzzing with activity all game, mostly with playful jabs and updates. A few GIFs. Some exaggerated "OOPS" messages after Paige’s third turnover. Classic KK.

Azzi didn’t even want to scroll down to see the vote percentages. She knew what option was winning. Judging by Jana’s flame emojis and Sarah’s unhelpful "👀👀👀," her teammates were thriving off this chaos.

And then there it was:

KK: "New poll: What should Azzi do to fix being a dick and wearing the enemy’s jersey?"

Option 1: Beg for forgiveness after the game.

Option 2: Buy new shoes for lil Paigey.

Option 3: Put on that lingerie she packed and wait in the hotel room for Big Daddy Bueckers.

She exhaled, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Do I defend myself? 

The silence lasted maybe thirty seconds. Then the floodgates opened.

Finally, she typed:

Azzi: Okay but… do you guys actually think she’s mad at me?

The words hit her like a slap. And suddenly, all the teasing and jersey-stunting didn’t feel worth it. Not if Paige was hurt. Not if she was second-guessing herself. Not if Azzi did that.

Sarh: Girl.

Morgan: She is mad.

KK: I’d be mad. I am mad. You look like you are repping Georgia like y’all go way back 😭

Caroline: Azzi, you literally hard launched yesterday and then pulled the most passive aggressive side chick stunt of all time 💀

Sarah: Also. She missed a layup which she almost never does. What do you think?"

She stared at her phone, jaw tight. No more playing it cool. She had to fix this.

She opened Paige’s contact, stared at the empty message window, hen finally typed:

Babe, are you ok?

Read, almost Immediately. 

But nothing else. No bubble. Just that quiet little confirmation that Paige saw it, and still wasn’t ready to say anything back.

Azzi’s chest tightened. She glanced to make sure her dad wasn’t watching, took a breath, and typed the kind of message that might break through. The kind that usually worked when normal words weren’t enough. The kind that brought Possessive Paige out of hiding.

It was her asking for a second chance in Paige’s language.

Can you please come out and show them why, even if I wear someone else’s name on my back right now, I only ever moan yours when we get home?

Remind me who I belong to. I’ll be good for you when you do. Promise.

She hit send and was ready to see the effect.

Azzi sat on edge the entire second half—barely blinking, barely breathing—silently praying Paige would settle in. The arena was loud, tense, alive with every possession, but all Azzi could hear was her pulse hammering in her ears. Her hands were clenched in her lap, fingers curled tight in the hem of Georgia’s jersey. She hadn’t sent another message after that last one—but she didn’t need to.

Because Paige had read it. And now Paige was responding.

It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t pretty. She was getting double-teamed off the inbound, blitzed every time she touched the ball, and still not getting much help. But she was fighting. Hard. Every floater came with a shoulder dipped through contact. Every pass was threaded like a dare. Every drive ended with her hitting the floor and popping back up like it just fueled her.

Azzi didn’t move. She just watched.

By the final stretch, Paige had clawed her way to 13 points. And then, with just seconds left in regulation, she pulled off a screen and hit a cold-blooded three to tie the game and send it to overtime.

Azzi shot up before the ball even dropped through the net, hands in the air, mouth wide, screaming without thinking. Pride surged through her like a flood. She was full of relief and awe and love. This was her girl.

And then Paige turned. She didn’t look at her teammates. She didn’t even glance at the bench. She looked straight at Azzi.

Their eyes locked across the chaos, and Azzi’s whole body went still. Paige didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. She just stared, held her there, then lifted her hand and pointed. One deliberate motion, right at her chest. Right at the red jersey.

You are mine.

Azzi’s heart stuttered so violently it nearly made her dizzy. Paige’s eyes burned into her with a promise so sharp it almost hurt. It said, You wanted a reaction? You got it. Now get ready for what’s coming.

Azzi looked down and suddenly couldn’t stand the feel of the jersey she was wearing. The red. The number 8. The smug little game she thought she’d been playing. It felt like wearing someone else’s skin. 

Her fingers flew to the hem and yanked it over her head, not caring who saw, not thinking about the cameras or Georgia or anyone else. She folded it once, maybe out of guilt, maybe just habit, and set it down behind her on the seat like it was something she no longer had permission to wear.

Azzi froze in place, heart stuttering. She didn’t even realize she was still wearing the red jersey until she looked down and suddenly hated it all over again. Her fingers yanked at the hem and she pulled it over her head like it was on fire, not caring if the arena cameras caught it or if Georgia saw. She couldn’t keep it on anymore.

When she looked up again, Paige was mid-huddle, sweat slick on her skin, hair damp, jaw tight but her eyes were still on Azzi. She’d seen the jersey come off. Of course she had. She was waiting for it.

And now she looked at Azzi like she was taking inventory. Her eyes dragged over Azzi’s now-bare shoulders, her fitted white UConn crop top, the deep rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath. And then, so subtle it almost didn’t register, Paige nodded.

It wasn’t a "thank-you" or a "you’re off the hook" nod.

No.

It was more of a a good girl nod. A that’s more like it nod. A you’re-in-so-much-trouble-later-and-I-hope-you-know-it nod.

Azzi sank back into her seat, suddenly hyper aware of every part of her body. Her pulse raced, her throat dry, her skin flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the arena lights. It was anticipation, pure want. The dizzy, sweet ache of having poked the wrong version of the bear and realizing, too late, that the bear liked being poked.

She tried to steady her breathing, tried to look composed, but she already knew.

She was in trouble. The kind of trouble that would show up in slow drips of sweat down the back of her thighs later, with Paige hovering over her until Azzi was begging for release.

And god, she deserved every second of it.

Overtime didn’t go how Azzi had hoped.

It started well enough. Paige hit a tough two right off the jump, then James came up with a steal and fed her for another clean finish at the rim. The Wings had momentum, briefly. But as always, without structure, without support, it crumbled fast. Missed switches, bad spacing, no real plan. And even Paige, locked in and pushing through, couldn’t hold the whole team together on her own.

Still, she fought. She always did. And she still finished with 20 points. Came damn close to a triple-double  through sheer willpower alone. She didn’t quit. She just ran out of hands.

The crowd emptied quickly after the final buzzer. People were already halfway to the parking lot by the time Azzi stood from her seat. Paige stayed behind, as always. She signed every poster, took every selfie with the kids pressed against the railing, even as her body sagged a little under the weight of the loss. Her smile was tired, but it was still there. Her shoulders tense, but still straight. That was Paige. Win or lose, she showed up.

Azzi watched all of it from courtside, the red jersey balled up in her hand now. It didn’t feel like a statement anymore, just a mistake she was ready to be rid of.

She made her way across the court toward Georgia, who was still near the bench, smirking like she’d just watched a live drama unfold and maybe enjoyed it a little too much.

"Thanks for the loan," Azzi said lightly, holding it out.

Georgia accepted it with a grin and a quick once-over that lingered a beat too long. "Anytime," she said, flicking her gaze over Azzi’s shoulder, straight toward Paige, who was still watching. Still tracking. "Though I gotta say... it looked better on you than it ever did on me."

Azzi didn’t dignify that with anything more than a tight smile, already turning away.

She lingered by the baseline with Lili and Amari, pretending to laugh, letting the noise of the court fade around her. She didn’t check her phone. She didn’t need to. She knew Paige would come to her.

And she did.

Azzi felt it before she saw it and then an arm wrapped around her from behind, firm and familiar, dragging her a step off balance.

Azzi didn’t resist. Her body fell into Paige’s without hesitation, like it had been waiting for permission. Her shoulder pressed under Paige’s jaw, her back tucked tight against her chest, and for a second, she just stood there. Breathing, absorbing. 

Paige smelled like heat and sweat and the same damn perfume Azzi had been sleeping in when she missed her too much. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this, Paige’s weight on her, the sense of being held intentionally, not just lovingly but fully possessed.

And Paige? She didn’t say hello. She didn’t ask. She just held her there, one hand gripping her waist, the other resting low on her hip, fingers splayed like a warning sign to anyone watching.

Mine.

Then Paige looked down at her with that maddeningly smug smile. "You really think you can wear someone else’s name on your back and not answer for it?"

Azzi blinked up at her, breath stuttering. "I thought it would get you fired up," she admitted. "That you’d…y’know, prove a point. On the court."

"Oh, I did," Paige murmured, eyes unblinking. "And now I’m going to prove the rest of it. Not here. Not in front of all these people. But you are going to pay for it."

Azzi swallowed. Her entire body responded to that tone, it was low and clipped. The kind of tone that promised she’d be lucky to walk straight tomorrow.

"I mean," she tried to deflect, voice lighter, "you’ve definitely made your point already…"

Paige didn’t even blink. "No. That was the warm-up."

Before Azzi could say another word, a voice behind them groaned dramatically.

"Oh my god. You two still lookl disgustingly obsessed with each other. Nothing’s changed."

Paige didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look away.

"Disgusting and exclusive," she said coolly, her voice dropping to a murmur as she leaned down, close enough that only Azzi could hear the rest. "And territorial as hell. Keep that in mind when I have you face-down tonight."

Azzi’s breath caught. Her heart forgot how to beat. Paige straightened like nothing had happened, throwing a casual wave toward a passing staffer.

Azzi just stood there, blinking like she'd been hit by a truck. One that smelled like sweat and victory and consequences.

She’d pushed. Paige had pulled.

And now she was in so much trouble. And she loved every second of it.

By the time they finally started heading out, the arena was almost entirely empty besides the staff cleaning up. Azzi had Paige’s gym bag slung over one shoulder, ignoring the way Paige kept glancing down at it with an expression that practically screamed give it to me. But Azzi just shook her head.

"No," Azzi said firmly, swatting her hand away. "Absolutely not. You carried the team tonight. You played forty minutes and got a bruised knee. The least I can do is carry your bag."

Paige narrowed her eyes. "Azzi—"

"Babe," Azzi cut in sweetly. "Let me be a good girlfriend and carry your stuff for once. You always carry mine."

Still, she muttered under her breath the entire walk to the parking lot, and Azzi caught enough of it to know that "good girlfriend" was going to be revisited. Thoroughly. Later.

When they reached the car, Azzi popped the trunk and turned to grab the keys from her back pocket, but Paige was already standing there, palm extended. Silent and Expectant. 

Azzi met her eyes and couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her lips. She dropped the keys into Paige’s hand like she was surrendering something more than just a fob.

"I may carry your stuff," she said, saccharine sweet, "but I’m not giving up passenger princess treatment."

Paige cocked her head, that sharp smile slowly spreading. "You are really pushing your luck and my limits tonight, princess."

"Pushing," Azzi echoed, already sliding into the passenger seat. "Not over it."

"Yet," Paige murmured.

They shut the doors almost in sync, the cabin falling into soft darkness. The air shifted, quiet and charged. No noise, no lights, no crowd. Just them. Paige’s hands on the wheel. Azzi practically vibrating beside her.

And Possessive Paige finally alone with her girl.

Paige turned toward her without a word, eyes sharp in the shadows, and reached out slowly, like she’d been holding back for too long and was finally ready to take. Her fingers found Azzi’s jaw, curling under it, her thumb brushing up the line of her cheekbone, firm and unhurried. She guided her in like gravity, lips brushing once, soft and purposeful, then again, deeper, hungrier, heat blooming between them.

"I missed you, baby," Paige murmured against her mouth, voice low and possessive, the baby nearly swallowed by how close they were.

Azzi let out a whimper, high and helpless, her fingers already clawing at the back of Paige’s neck, tangling into the damp curls stuck to her nape. She pulled her in again, harder this time—mouths crashing, breath catching, her legs shifting to pull Paige closer over the console. Their kisses turned messy fast. All tongue, teeth, gasps. Azzi made a small, broken sound every time Paige tugged at her bottom lip. 

It had only been two days, but with the month before that hollowed out by travel and tension and late-night missed calls, it felt like she was kissing life back into her lungs.

Paige leaned in harder, pinning Azzi into the seat. Azzi folded under her without resistance, knees parting, one thigh pressing up against the console. Paige's hand slid from her jaw down to her throat, thumb pressing right beneath her jawline. Azzi’s breath stuttered, eyes fluttering shut. Her whole body pulsed under Paige’s touch.

She was already shaking.

Paige didn’t stop kissing her until she felt it, felt how gone Azzi was. Then she pulled back just slightly, hovering above her, lips swollen, eyes black with promise. Her hand never left Azzi’s throat. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t have to. The weight of it was enough.

Her smirk was slow, calculated, absolutely devastating.

"I haven’t forgotten about your little stunt," she said, voice low and deliciously cruel. "You think just because you handed the jersey back, you’re off the hook that you are a good girl again?"

Azzi’s pupils blew wide. Her breath hitched so sharp it was almost a gasp. She swallowed, her whole body taut with anticipation, thighs squeezing together without permission.

Paige leaned in closer, lips grazing her jawline, her voice dropping into something even darker. She was all breath and threat, velvet and warning.

"You’re not getting off easy tonight. You want to play games in public? You want to wear someone else’s name on your back and act like you don’t know who you belong to?"

Azzi whimpered, hips twitching upward like she could grind against the air. She was panting now, eyes dazed, hands tightening into Paige’s hoodie like an anchor.

"You’re mine," Paige growled against her ear. "And you’re gonna remember that for days."

Azzi couldn’t speak. She just nodded, desperate and shaking.

Paige kissed her once more, harsh and claiming, then pulled back, just far enough to look her in the eye.

"First I’m going to hold you down and make you scream my name over and over again until it’s the only one left in your head. And then I’m going to make sure your thighs are too sore to pull another stunt like that for a long time."

Azzi made a sound that was half-moan, half-plea. Her head fell back against the headrest, lips parted, eyes dazed.

"I’m serious," Paige said, softer now, but no less threatening. "I’m not going to rush it. You’re going to feel every second of it. And you’re going to thank me when it’s over."

Azzi’s voice finally broke through, wrecked and trembling. "Yes. Please."

Paige smiled, dark, satisfied, cruel in the way only someone who loved you could be before pulling away and starting the car.

Azzi Fudd was in big fucking trouble. She was about to pay for every second she spent in that red jersey. And god, she couldn’t wait.

[novaimperia]

★ student council secretary!reader and her unconventional quid-pro-quo partnership with enforcer for hire!Toji

“if i’m gonna bust my ass teaching those frat guys a lesson, i’ll need a little more than some over-the-pants petting this time, doll.”

"well, y-you can't grope my breasts again; you're too aggressive and it hurts."

he grunts. "ya gotta shake off y'r habit of mistaking pleasure for pain. and in any case, those assholes give me a rash so, as nice as y'r tits are, it's still not gonna cut it."

you fidget with a loose thread on your skirt. truthfully, you didn’t want to go back to him – toji’s brash, crass, and intimidating. sitting on a contraption to work the quadriceps muscles of the leg, you assume, you’re left awkwardly standing to the side, in the gym, watching as his thighs flex and thicken with the strain.

they’re really impressive things, actually. 

“you eye fucking my thighs?” the scar on his lips stretch ever so slightly with the smirk stealing your attention. “if i had known the pretty secretary had a thing for thighs, we woulda been having much more fun.”

scoffing, you retort, perhaps a little more defensively than you would have liked, “i don’t. ugh, j-just think about it, okay? phi kappa psi has been lax with their charity quota and it’s embarrassing for everyone involved. so, just do what you usually do: make them see things our way.”

he huffs in dry amusement.. “i’ve made my point clear so let me know what ya decide, kiddo.”

‘kiddo’ is worse than ‘doll,’ but you don’t say anything. unsure, you don’t leave just yet. no amount of reminders, of chasing their president and begging the faculty to get involved has convinced the fraternity to make good on their quota. it’s proven to be a huge bother for the student council. 

and, though you’ve already gone above and beyond for your job – rubbing his length, impressive and hot as it is, over his gym shorts or jeans in the janitor's closet or locker room has always left you a stuttering, fumbling mess – there has to be some limits. right?

the worst part, you think, is that it was never to bring him to an orgasm; he just wanted some entertainment. you don't like calling people names but he can be a real jerk.

crazily unethical as it is, you needed to indulge him otherwise the dean would never write a good enough recommendation letter for the top masters program for your interest. if you failed or disappointed him, it’ll be a stain on your perfect record. that just can’t happen. and it won’t. at this point, you’ll do anything to make sure of that. 

“fine.” at the decisive sound of your voice, he stops stretching those powerful legs of his, grunting to show he's listening. “um, what do you have in mind?”

his obnoxious bark of laughter sends heat to your cheeks. people’s heads turn but when they realise it’s fushiguro, they turn away hastily. with grace unbefitting of a man of his stature, he climbs off the machine and stands to his full height before you. sweat makes his skin shine under the lights. a dizzying musk, masculine and oddly sweet, reaches your nose. you step back. 

running a large paw through his slicked hair and showing off the veins bulging in those monstrous biceps you try not to look at so much, he drawls, “well, my thighs do feel a little sore. be a doll and help a guy out, yeah?”

when he wraps a sweaty arm around you and pecks your head, you realise it's already too late to have regrets.

[paxaz535]

SLOW SIMMER - FOUR

dallas!paige x privatechef!azzi

note : sorry it took so long , i needed to do a lot of thinking so i can keep this story interesting lol

—————————————

“so… how’d you feel about everyone?” paige asked as she and azzi cleaned up the kitchen.

it was around 11:20 when everyone left the bueckers household. the girls had stayed late, running extra games, and azzi ended up bonding with dijonai and maddy over leftovers and side conversations.

azzi smiled to herself, thinking about what they talked about. “i already love them. they’re funny—especially dijonai. she has no filter,” she laughed, the memory still fresh.

paige chuckled, rinsing out a bowl before putting it in the cabinet. “that’s good to hear,” she said, leaning on the counter. “i thought you were gonna hate them.”

azzi finished cleaning a cup, then mirrored paige’s stance, their eyes locking across the kitchen. “hate is a strong word. i don’t think i could ever hate anything.”

paige gave her a look. “trust me, you hate something.”

azzi played along, leaning in slightly, a small grin on her lips. “and you know this how?”

paige leaned in just an inch closer, her voice dropping. “i know a lot of things. don’t tempt me.”

azzi’s heart fluttered. paige’s tone was soft, low, but teasing. her eyes flickered to the blonde’s lips before returning to her eyes. “yeah?”

paige didn’t budge. “yeah.”

just as azzi opened her mouth to say something, paige’s phone dinged. the sharp sound broke whatever was building between them. both girls flinched back a little as paige sighed and checked her phone, her expression instantly shifting.

“what happened?” azzi asked with a soft chuckle, noticing the way paige’s whole vibe changed.

paige didn’t answer right away. she looked at azzi, then back at her screen. “it’s just… someone i used to talk to. she can’t take a hint that we don’t talk anymore.”

azzi hummed, her smile fading slightly. she didn’t know what that meant, didn’t know if she wanted to. still, it didn’t hurt.

not really.

not yet.

but it felt weird.

‘i don’t blame her,’ she thought, then immediately shook the thought away.

the phone rang again, and paige rolled her eyes before answering with a sharp, dry, “what’s up, bro?”

azzi nearly burst out laughing—she’d never heard paige sound so unbothered.

on the other end, a girl scoffed. “don’t answer the phone like that, i can’t call you no more?”

paige’s tone flattened. “no, you cannot, actually. what do you want?”

then came the bomb.

“girl, you know you miss this pussy. stop playing with me, paige.”

azzi’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth. she hadn’t expected that. not out loud. not now.

paige froze, clearly just as stunned. azzi made eye contact with her, silently mouthing, i’m gonna go. goodnight.

paige gave a tight nod, sighing heavily as she turned away to keep talking. “watch ya mouth, ‘cause you don’t even know what you talkin’ ‘bout.”

azzi slipped down the hall, quietly shutting her bedroom door behind her.

she didn’t know why hearing that girl bothered her so much.

but it did.

it left a weird twist in her stomach, a tightness in her chest.

because something about that call made her feel like…

whatever her and paige were building—

wasn’t just theirs.

not yet.

and azzi didn’t want to admit how much that bothered her.

she just got some clothes out to shower with, today was long.

she was about to go to the bathroom but when she opened the bedroom door, paige was standing there.

the blonde froze, clearly not expecting azzi to come out at the exact moment she planned on coming in.

azzi froze too, one hand still on the doorknob. “oh,” she mumbled, eyes locking with paige’s.

“hey,” paige said quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. her expression was softer now, different than it was a few minutes ago when she answered that call.

“hi,” azzi replied, stepping back slightly to let her pass. “did you need something?”

paige didn’t move right away. she looked at azzi, then glanced toward the floor before finally meeting her eyes again. “i wanted to say sorry… about earlier.”

“you don’t have to,” azzi said quickly. “it’s not my business.”

“maybe not,” paige nodded. “but it still felt… weird. and you didn’t deserve to hear that.”

azzi looked at her, unsure what to say. the hallway was quiet, a thick silence hanging between them.

“it’s not like i’m mad,” azzi finally said. “i just… wasn’t expecting it.”

paige stepped a little closer, her voice dropping again. “i’m not talking to her anymore. i haven’t for a while. that call? it wasn’t anything.”

azzi nodded, her voice softer. “okay.”

paige noticed the way azzi’s fingers curled slightly around the doorknob, like she didn’t know whether to stay or go.

“i didn’t mean for it to mess up the night,” paige added.

“you didn’t,” azzi said. “it was a good night.”

they stood there for a second longer, quiet again. then paige tilted her head slightly, her eyes gentle. “you were heading to the bathroom?”

azzi nodded.

paige stepped aside. “go ahead. i’ll be out here.”

azzi gave her a small smile, walking past her.

but even as she entered the bathroom, paige’s voice echoed in her mind.

that call wasn’t anything.

so why did it still feel like something?

-

next day, azzi woke up with the whole scene from last night still replaying in her mind.

the phone call.

the hallway conversation.

the way paige looked at her.

the way she felt.

it was fucking with her brain.

but she had to pull herself together.

this wasn’t supposed to be complicated.

she was here to cook. not to catch feelings.

so she got up, showered, and got dressed—something simple, something comfortable. her apron hung over her arm as she made her way out of the room, trying to clear her head.

what she didn’t expect to see was emma, paige, dijonai, lyss, and arike sitting in the front room. their faces were serious, low voices murmuring back and forth like they were mid-discussion about something important.

emma was the first to notice her. she looked azzi up and down with a soft smile, lifting a brow. “well if it isn’t the chef herself.”

all heads turned.

azzi suddenly felt warm under the pressure of so many eyes.

especially the blue ones.

she stood there for a beat, then forced a small smile. “hey, everyone.”

paige didn’t say anything right away, just looked at her. her gaze wasn’t cold—but it wasn’t easy to read either.

“hey, azzi,” dijonai greeted, patting the empty seat beside her. “come sit. we’re talking about something important.”

emma chuckled, shaking her head. “we’re not dragging her into it just yet. she just woke up.”

azzi glanced at paige again, her chest tightening a little.

“you okay?” lyss asked, catching the slight hesitation in her posture.

“yeah,” azzi nodded quickly. “just a little tired.”

emma stood up, brushing off her jeans. “i was just checking in before heading out. needed to talk to paige about a few things.”

azzi nodded, her hands tightening slightly around the fabric of her apron.

“you cooking this morning?” arike asked, eyes hopeful.

“i was planning to,” azzi answered, a little more gently. “what are we feeling?”

paige finally spoke then, voice soft. “surprise us.”

and for some reason, those two words carried more weight than they should have.

“paige, you love surprises don’t you?” lyss joked, her tone teasing as she threw an arm around dijonai’s shoulders.

paige glanced over at her, unimpressed. “don’t start.”

dijonai smirked, nudging lyss. “nah, she definitely do. remember that time at the team dinner—”

“nope,” paige cut in quickly, holding up a hand. “we are not doing story time right now.”

emma laughed as she grabbed her bag. “i’ll let y’all get back to embarrassing each other. azzi, i’ll text you later, alright?”

“okay,” azzi said softly, offering her a wave as emma made her way out the door.

as soon as it closed behind her, the room shifted a bit. still light, but quieter. azzi moved to the kitchen, her hands already reaching for the pan on instinct.

behind her, paige was watching—she always seemed to be watching lately. the girl who was once just her private chef had somehow started taking up more space.

not in a bad way.

just… noticeable.

“so what kinda surprise are we getting?” arike called from the couch, breaking the silence.

azzi smiled faintly as she opened the fridge. “a good one, hopefully.”

and somehow, she wasn’t just talking about the food.

she heard footsteps behind her and glanced to the side—paige had walked into the kitchen, leaning on the counter like she always did when she was trying to act casual.

“you sleep okay?” the blonde asked, her voice softer now that it was just the two of them.

“yeah,” azzi said, pulling out eggs and some fresh spinach. “woke up kind of in my head, but… i’m good.”

paige nodded slowly, then let a beat pass. “about last night…”

azzi kept her eyes on the cutting board as she cracked an egg, careful and calm. “you don’t have to explain again. it’s fine.”

“i know i don’t have to,” paige said, watching the way azzi moved, “but i want to.”

azzi finally glanced up at her. “okay. then talk.”

paige hesitated, like she was trying to find the right words. “i haven’t talked to that girl in months. it was just one of those people who pops back up for attention, you know? i shut it down as soon as i could. i didn’t want it to mess anything up.”

azzi’s eyes lingered on hers for a second. “why would it mess anything up?”

paige looked at her—really looked. “because… i don’t want you thinking you’re just another person in my space.”

azzi blinked, surprised by the honesty. her heart did that weird flutter again, the one she swore she wasn’t supposed to feel.

“…well,” she said after a moment, turning back to the stove, “if you keep talking like that, i’m gonna burn these eggs.”

paige laughed quietly. “can’t have that.”

azzi smirked, focused on the skillet. “exactly. i’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

the moment settled into something easier—something warm. and while the rest of the girls in the living room teased each other and scrolled their phones, in the kitchen, something quiet but real was beginning to take shape.

“hey— where’s maddy?” azzi asked, glancing toward the living room as she flipped the eggs.

paige turned her head to look too, only just realizing the absence. “yeah, where is maddy?” she called out to the three girls on the couch.

“oh, she’s with her boyfriend,” arike replied casually, not looking up from her phone.

“fiancé,” lyss corrected, grinning. “get it right, boo.”

“same difference,” arike mumbled, rolling her eyes as she leaned back deeper into the couch cushions.

lyss laughed, stealing the throw pillow beside her. “she said she’ll be here for dinner, though. told us not to eat without her.”

azzi raised an eyebrow from the stove. “dinner? we making plans already?”

paige shrugged, leaning her elbow on the counter, chin in hand. “only if you’re cooking.”

“of course i’m cooking.” azzi smirked, “what else am i here for?”

“your sparkling personality,” dijonai teased, sending her a playful wink.

azzi just laughed, shaking her head. “y’all are a mess.”

“and yet you love us,” dijonai grinned.

paige smiled to herself quietly, her gaze lingering on azzi longer than it should’ve.

yeah.

she really did.

“i’m a loveable person. i love everyone.” azzi said with a small shrug, turning back to the stove like it was just a casual statement.

“mmhm,” dijonai drawled from the couch, “but do you love paige?”

paige nearly choked on her water.

azzi froze for a split second—hands still, jaw tightening just slightly—before laughing it off. “i said everyone, didn’t i?”

arike hollered. “that’s a safe ass answer, chef. i see you.”

lyss grinned, nudging dijonai. “you tryna stir the pot before breakfast’s even done?”

“girl, i stir everything,” dijonai said proudly. “food, drama, tension. i’m well-rounded.”

azzi just shook her head, flipping the eggs with a smirk. “y’all are too much this early.”

“you love it,” paige said quietly, still smiling as she watched azzi from the side.

azzi didn’t look at her, but she heard it.

and she felt it.

“maybe,” she muttered under her breath, the tiniest grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

paige heard that maybe—soft, almost too low to catch—but it echoed loud in her chest.

she leaned a little closer across the counter, chin propped in her palm, blue eyes steady on the girl standing at her stove like she owned the whole damn place.

“what was that?” paige asked, teasing, even though she heard her just fine.

azzi didn’t turn around, just kept flipping the eggs and plating the rest of breakfast. “nothing,” she said casually, but her ears were a little pink.

“nah,” lyss called out. “that wasn’t ‘nothing,’ fudd. what you say?”

“yeah, come on now,” dijonai added, grinning. “we all heard something that wasn’t ‘i love everyone’ just now.”

azzi finally turned, setting a plate in front of paige and grabbing another for arike. “i said maybe,” she admitted, locking eyes with the blonde for a half-second. “now eat.”

“mmm. mysterious,” arike grinned as she took her food. “i like her.”

“i been said that,” dijonai muttered, already halfway through a bite.

paige, though, didn’t say anything.

she just stared at her plate for a moment—then up at azzi again.

“thanks,” she said softly.

azzi nodded once. “you’re welcome.”

but as she turned back to the kitchen, that grin wouldn’t leave her face.

and paige?

she was already thinking about dinner.

paige kept eating, but her mind wasn’t fully on the food anymore—even if it was damn near perfect. she was chewing slower, eyes following azzi as the chef moved around the kitchen like it was second nature now.

it wasn’t just the way azzi cooked.

it was the way she made the space feel… soft. warm.

like a home paige didn’t realize she’d been missing.

“yo.” arike’s voice broke through her thoughts. “you good?”

paige blinked. “huh?”

arike raised a brow, a fork mid-air. “you zoned out hella hard just now. you was over there chewing like it was a love song playing in your head.”

lyss and dijonai burst out laughing.

“she’s in deep thought,” lyss said dramatically. “probably imagining her last name on wedding invites.”

“shut up,” paige muttered, but her grin gave her away.

azzi glanced back, eyes flickering between the group and paige. “what’s going on over there?”

“nothing,” paige replied quickly. too quickly.

“mhm,” dijonai smirked. “nothing except our girl here making heart eyes at the chef.”

azzi blushed immediately, turning back to the sink. “y’all are exhausting.”

“you love it,” paige echoed softly.

azzi’s hand paused over a dish for half a second before she kept going.

the room filled with laughter and clinking forks, the smell of breakfast still hanging in the air.

but under it all, something new was brewing—

and it wasn’t just what was on the stove.

“so, azzi.” dijonai spoke, resting her elbow on the counter like she was about to start trouble.

azzi looked up, her brows raised. “yes?”

“you got any plans today?”

azzi thought for a second, sipping on her water. “not that i know of. why, what happened?”

paige’s head turned slightly, eyes narrowing in suspicion as she chewed slowly. she knew that tone in dijonai’s voice. it always meant something.

“good,” dijonai grinned. “because we’re taking you with us.”

azzi laughed softly, intrigued. “where are you taking me?”

“yeah,” paige chimed in, tilting her head, “where are you taking her, nai?”

“chill, p.” dijonai smirked. “you can come too. it’s nothing crazy. we’re just gonna hit the little vintage market downtown and maybe stop by that smoothie place arike’s obsessed with.”

“you didn’t even like that smoothie place last time,” arike said with her mouth full.

“shhh,” dijonai waved her off. “azzi hasn’t been yet. it’s a bonding trip now.”

azzi smiled, her interest piqued. “alright… i’m down. sounds fun.”

“great,” dijonai clapped her hands once. “we’ll leave in like an hour. wear something cute.”

paige leaned over, nudging azzi lightly with her shoulder. “you always wear something cute.”

azzi looked at her, surprised, lips parting to say something—but dijonai cut in.

“aht aht—none of that flirty stuff yet. we on a group trip.”

paige rolled her eyes while azzi just blushed and turned back to her water, smiling into the glass.

this was gonna be a long day.

but probably a good one.

-

azzi kept it simple—she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard, but she still wanted to look good.

she pulled on a pair of green cargo jeans that sat just right on her hips, pairing it with a black tube top that hugged her figure in all the best ways. her goddess braids were pulled up into a bun, but a few curls had fallen out, framing her face in a way that felt effortless.

a soft makeup look—light blush, glossed lips, lashes just enough to bat—

and gold hoops to finish it off.

when she stepped out of her room, the conversation in the living room quieted a little too fast.

paige, who had been mid-scroll on her phone, looked up—then kept looking.

“okayyy,” lyss said, dragging the word out with a grin. “chef said outside today.”

“you look good, fudd,” dijonai added. “like, you trying to get chose good.”

azzi blushed, brushing them off with a laugh as she reached for her bag. “it’s just cargo pants.”

“mhm,” arike said, standing and grabbing her keys. “and i’m just 5’9”. let’s roll.”

as everyone headed to the door, paige lingered, walking beside azzi with a smile that felt soft—genuine.

“you really do look good,” she said under her breath.

azzi looked over, smiling back. “thanks. so do you.”

neither of them said anything else.

but they didn’t really need to.

they all piled into dijonai’s car, the group loud and already full of chaotic energy. dijonai slid into the driver’s seat, tossing her phone into the cupholder as she called out, “azzi, shotgun.”

azzi was about to politely decline, but before she could even say anything, she heard lyss behind her.

“wha—baby, i always sit in the front,” lyss said, dramatic as ever, watching azzi reach for the passenger door handle like her title was being stolen.

dijonai turned around with a deadpan expression. “it’s not gonna kill you to sit in the back for a day. calm down.”

lyss folded her arms as she pouted, mumbling under her breath, “this car ain’t even got real legroom in the back.”

“your legs short anyway,” arike teased, already buckled in behind dijonai.

“let azzi have her moment.” paige chimed in.

lyss gasped. “wow. okay. betrayal from all sides.”

azzi, laughing softly, finally got in and shut the door. “y’all are funny.”

dijonai looked over at her once they were settled in. “they do this every time. don’t take it personal.”

“oh i’m not,” azzi replied, smiling. “this is fun.”

dijonai grinned as she started the car. “good. you better get used to us.”

and just like that, they were off—windows down, music blasting, voices overlapping—azzi’s first real day out with the crew.

and so far, it felt right.

“so what’s up with this smoothie place? i love smoothies,” azzi asked, glancing over at dijonai as the car rolled through a yellow light.

the older girl had on black sunglasses, her jaw set like she was driving in a Fast & Furious sequel.

“first of all,” dijonai started, eyes not leaving the road, “this spot is it. fresh fruit, they don’t use that fake-ass syrup. and they put this granola crumble on top of the smoothies-in-a-bowl that’ll make you rethink your whole life.”

“they do be hittin’,” arike added from the back, chewing gum loudly. “i ain’t even like smoothies like that ‘til i came here.”

“same,” paige chimed in, turning to look at azzi. “i get the dragonfruit one. fire.”

lyss leaned forward from the backseat, her arm hanging between the front seats. “azzi, don’t listen to them—get the pineapple mango one with the extra honey. that’s the best.”

“see? already starting,” dijonai muttered, smirking. “you’re gonna have to make your own decision, fudd.”

azzi laughed, her gold hoops catching the sunlight as she shook her head. “this sounds like serious business.”

“it is,” paige said, tapping her phone like she was preparing a whole review. “smoothie politics in this car are intense.”

“y’all lucky i like y’all,” azzi teased, looking out the window as they turned into the lot. the spot was small but cute—plants in the windows, people sitting outside with bright bowls and even brighter drinks.

“welcome to the jungle,” dijonai grinned as she parked.

“don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

they all piled out of the car, the sun warm against their skin as they headed toward the shop. the smell of fresh fruit, honey, and something faintly tropical hit azzi immediately.

“this place smells good already,” she muttered, taking it in.

“just wait,” arike said, holding the door open with a little bow. “ladies first.”

azzi chuckled, stepping inside with the others. it was cozy but vibrant—plants hanging from the ceiling, a chalkboard menu with colorful writing, and a few shelves of granola and pressed juices off to the side. the energy felt local, personal… kind of like the food azzi liked to make.

“i’m telling you,” lyss whispered as they walked up to the counter, “one bite and you’re gonna understand why i almost fought arike last time over the last açai bowl.”

“she’s not lying,” arike added, arms folded. “i didn’t get the last one. and that still hurt.”

paige stood beside azzi, glancing up at the menu. “you want me to help you pick?”

azzi looked over at her, their shoulders nearly touching. “nah, i think i wanna try that pineapple mango one lyss was raving about.”

lyss pointed at her from the back of the line, “you will not regret that.”

they all placed their orders, laughing through it as arike fumbled her card and dijonai made a big deal out of getting two bowls “just in case one doesn’t hit.” while they waited, they found a spot outside at a corner table under a shaded umbrella.

azzi sat between paige and lyss, and for a moment, it felt like she’d been part of the group forever.

“so,” lyss started, poking at her straw, “now that we’ve all officially adopted you, what are your weekend plans lookin’ like?”

azzi looked around the table, everyone waiting, playful curiosity in their eyes. she smiled softly, realizing she didn’t mind being asked.

“honestly?” she said, pulling her hair back into place. “no plans yet.”

“good,” dijonai nodded. “you do now.”

“good,” dijonai nodded, popping the top off her smoothie bowl. “you do now.”

“oh, word?” azzi laughed, raising a brow. “y’all just assign plans to me now?”

“absolutely,” lyss said, already halfway through her drink. “you’re one of us now. no escape.”

arike leaned across the table, spoon in hand. “we’re thinking a beach day. well… more like a lake day, technically. there’s this spot about 30 minutes out. not too many people, chill vibes, good scenery.”

“and snacks,” dijonai added, pointing her spoon at azzi. “which is where you come in.”

“i had a feeling this was food-related,” azzi muttered, shaking her head with a smile.

“i mean,” paige said, leaning back in her chair and turning her cup in her hand, “if we’re all gonna be outside for hours, wouldn’t it make sense to have, like… gourmet sandwiches?”

“gourmet sandwiches?” arike snorted. “you bougie now?”

paige gave her a dry look. “have you had azzi’s sandwiches?”

arike raised her hands in surrender. “point taken.”

azzi laughed, covering her mouth. “fine. i’ll make something. but y’all better bring the drinks and entertainment.”

“done,” dijonai nodded. “you focus on the food, we got the rest.”

they all clinked their cups together like it was some kind of unspoken contract. and just like that, azzi had weekend plans. not because she asked for them—but because this group had a way of pulling you in.

paige leaned close again, voice low just for her.

“sorry in advance if they get too loud or competitive.”

azzi turned her head slightly, their faces just a little too close.

“i think i’ll be okay,” she whispered back.

“they feel kinda like family already.”

paige’s lips curved into something soft—real—not the camera-ready kind of smile azzi had seen on tv or in press photos. this one was for her.

“that’s good,” paige said, still holding her gaze. “they can be a lot, but… they’re solid people.”

azzi nodded, her eyes flicking down to her smoothie for a second, then back up. “i can tell.”

their moment was broken when lyss let out a dramatic groan from across the table.

“can y’all stop whispering and start planning the vibes? like… what kind of music are we bringing? cause if y’all think i’m listening to country the whole ride—”

“girl, no one listens to country,” dijonai deadpanned.

“you’d be surprised,” arike chimed in.

“uh huh, and you be the main one knowing the lyrics when it come on,” lyss shot back, pointing at her with a plastic spoon.

“okay but let’s not act like azzi don’t give off r&b picnic playlist energy,” maddy added as she rejoined the group with her drink in hand, having finally arrived.

“mads! i thought you weren’t coming back until later on?” dijonai asks as she sipped her drink.

maddy shook her head, “something told me to check arike’s location so i came here.”

azzi laughed, leaning back in her seat. “wait- r&b picnic?what does that even mean?”

“it means you got the vibe,” maddy said, sliding into the last empty chair. “like, the soft vocals, sunset lighting, wine-in-a-jar aesthetic. that’s you.”

paige, now clearly enjoying this, raised a brow. “wine-in-a-jar?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about,” maddy smirked.

azzi shook her head with a grin, letting their banter wash over her. she wasn’t used to being so naturally folded into a friend group—let alone one that felt this easy. this seamless.

it was like they’d known her longer than just a few days.

paige must’ve sensed something in her silence because she bumped her knee against azzi’s gently under the table.

“you good?”

azzi glanced at her, then nodded. “yeah. i’m really good.”

and for the first time in a while, she actually meant it.

they stayed out there for a while—long after the smoothies were finished and the bowls were scraped clean. the conversation drifted from music and weekend plans to random “would you rather” questions, embarrassing college stories, and heated debates over which disney channel original movie was the best.

azzi didn’t speak all the time, but when she did, the girls listened. laughed. pulled her in even tighter.

it wasn’t just paige making her feel welcome—it was all of them.

eventually, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a soft golden light over the patio. arike stretched her arms dramatically. “alright, i need to get back before i pass out.”

“same,” lyss yawned, tossing her empty cup in the trash. “we still on for the lake?”

“yes,” dijonai confirmed. “saturday morning. we meet at mine.”

“i’ll bring the speaker,” maddy added, already typing something into her phone.

“i’ll bring towels and extra sunscreen,” lyss said.

“i’ll… bring myself,” arike shrugged, earning a few laughs.

paige turned to azzi as everyone stood and started filing toward the car. “you need anything for it? i can pick up ice or coolers if you don’t have enough.”

azzi smiled, pulling her braids back into place. “nah, i think i got it covered. i’ve done a few beach picnics before.”

“of course you have,” paige smirked, nudging her playfully.

“chef life,” azzi shrugged, then paused. “but… thanks. really. this was fun.”

“you don’t gotta thank me,” paige said, holding the car door open for her this time. “you’re stuck with us now.”

as they drove back, azzi looked out the window, her face lit by the warm pinkish light of the sunset.

she couldn’t explain it, but something about today shifted things inside her.

she didn’t know what it meant yet. but it felt… right.

like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

[mercurymusing]

The big long essay is good, but it misses one obvious argument against "owning a nice mug is materialist" moralizing.

Those cheap ass instant coffee granules you're spooning into your mouth on the floor of a public restroom are not really any better for the world than nice beans in a nice espresso machine in your home.

Whatever portion of that Nestlé dissolvable styrofoam is actually coffee from a plant is definitely not coming from a source concerned about the environment or labor conditions. The plastic jars you scooped your caffeine out of over the year are probably not getting meaningfully recycled, whatever corporate blameshifting says.

A nice espresso machine can be refurbished for generations. A french press or a moka pot will last as long with less work, and can also be fairly cheap.

Did you know that there are credible claims Ikea uses 1% of all lumber globally? They also keep getting caught clearcutting protected forests:

The couch you got off the curb five years ago isn't directly contributing, of course. But in 15 years, when you've gone through four sets of particle board shelves, and you've had to dump two couches that completely fell apart? What if you just bought that nice $200 desk from the antique place? It's already lasted 60 years. You can sand it down and restain it, fix the wonky drawer with $20 of hardware and an afternoon, and it'll probably outlive you.

This is Tumblr, we all know the Vime's boot theory. Buy those fancy boots because they'll survive the Camino, sure. Buy them because $200 for one pair of boots will cost less than $300 for six pairs of boots.

But also buy them because one pair of nice boots will live in your closet until you die, even if you walk through them. Because nice boots can be resoled and repaired and still be nice boots. But cheap boots will fall apart into shreds of plastic and rubber and foam until there's nothing you can do except pile them on top of all the other intractable trash a modern life produces.

You don't need new forks, sure. The stainless steel guys you swiped from the cafeteria in your twenties could last forever. But so could a slightly nicer set that brings you joy, and scrap steel is one of those things that is actually meaningfully recycled. Or you could pass them on to some other broke kid. They don't need new forks. Hell, you don't need new forks. Amazing what you can find at estate sales.

In the other direction, and to bring it back around to couches: anything you could scrounge or afford at 20 probably had an original 10 year lifespan at best. It's easier than you'd think to reupholster a couch, but only if it's a nice couch. A cheap couch is a disposable piece. The cover will wear, the foam will be destroyed, and the frame will break down. Not only are you at a point in your life where you're ready for nicer things, but anything you've held onto is probably noticeably worse than when you got it. You're tired of living with shitty things, but you're also living with shittier things than when you were grateful just to have shit.

You're sitting on a couch that you would have left on the curb, dreaming of furniture that's never been abandoned on the side of the road. It's okay to go get that furniture!

And if in 10 years time you want something even nicer? Well. Your actually nice couch is now a solidly okay beat-up couch. There are starving 20 somethings who can toss a throw blanket over the stain on the back and be thrilled to sit on that couch for another decade. You can go find the couch you'll be sitting on at 70.

I'm turning 30 this month, and for some reason have become suddenly interested in material possessions. like what if,,,,,,,,my couch was nice. what if my sheets were nice. is this what happens to you??

[pitchsidestories]

All this time II Aggie Beever-Jones x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1761

summary: They had always played side by side from their academy days right through to the Champions League semi-final, where their relationship is finally revealed. requested

author's note: Thank you for sending in the request, anon. We really hope you and all our lovely readers enjoy the fanfic. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

You’d always remember that October, two years ago.

It wasn’t just your and Aggie’s debut for Chelsea’s first team, though that alone was unforgettable. For both of you, it meant more than that. It was the start of something you’d only dared to dream about when you were kids kicking a ball around after school.

As you stood waiting for the first leg against Barcelona in the Women’s Champions League, your mind drifted back to that moment. The memory steadied you, soothed your nerves like a hand on your shoulder.

“Ready.”, Aggie whispered into your ear, voice low, eyes bright, clearly just as thrilled as you were.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You’d both come off the bench that day, your coach had told you as much and now it was nearly time for the changes again.

You bit your lip, heart pounding, and nodded: “Ready, if you are.”

“Never been more ready.”, she replied earnestly.

Her arms wrapped around you in a quick, fierce hug before she jogged onto the pitch, subbing in for Sam Kerr. A few minutes later, you followed, slipping into the back line to gain experience, to hold your ground.

Brighton didn’t give you much to work with frustrating, in truth, but from a distance, you raised your hands in celebration the moment you saw her score. Your best friend. Your teammate. Your childhood shadow now lighting up the stadium for the club that had always meant everything to her.

Grinning, you sprinted toward her. She leapt into your arms, laughter in her breath, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Aggie, your goal was amazing.”, you told her, pride colouring your voice.

“Thanks.”, she beamed, face flushed as she hid it in the crook of your neck. The moment wrapped around the two of you like a secret. No lens could catch it. No replay could capture what it truly meant.

This was big. Bigger than a debut, bigger than a match. A shared dream, come to life.

You knew how rare that was. Most never got this far.

But you had, together.                               

After the game, you were both buzzing as you made your way home.

“What a day, huh?”, you said, a smile tugging at your lips.

Aggie shook her head in disbelief: “I still can’t believe it worked out like that.”

You laughed softly, feeling a lump in your throat: “Remember when we were just kids starting at the academy? Feels like a lifetime ago.”

She slipped her arm around your waist, grinning: “It does. And honestly, it only feels right that we made our debut together.”

“Yeah.”, you agreed, your voice quiet with emotion.

Her bright blue eyes met yours, full of pride: “I’m proud of you.”

You were never good at taking compliments so you just shrugged and grinned at her: “I only defended while you actually scored today.”

Aggie gave you a mock-disapproving look, even rolling her eyes playfully: “Oh come on. It’s literally my job.”

“I know.”, you said.

There was nothing more to say. She scored goals, you defended them. There was nothing but silence left, not awkward but comfortable as you both took in this milestone in your careers.

Then, out of nowhere, Aggie spoke up: “Be my girlfriend.”

It came out so quickly, you blinked at her for a few seconds before words even fully registered.

“Wait, what?”, you asked, almost laughing. This had to be a joke.

But her face was serious, waiting for an answer: “Come on, say yes.”

“You’re serious?”, you asked a bit breathless.

She gave one firm nod: “I am.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile: “It’s a yes from me.”

“Really?”

“Really.“, you nodded excitedly, wrapping your arms around her waist. You had imagined this moment too many times, but you would have never been courageous enough to ask her. Not if it put your friendship at risk. So, in this moment you couldn’t quite believe your luck.

Actually, your whole life had started to feel incredibly surreal to you. Everything went so quickly from your debut to this relationship and suddenly you found yourself in Barcelona, moments before you would play in the semi-final of the Women’s Champions League.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you slipped into your shirt. You glanced at Aggie watching you and winked: “Ready?”

Your girlfriend nodded back: “Yeah, you?”

“We can do it, girls.”, Niamh chimed in, looking determined and optimistic.

Millie grinned as she tugged at her captains Armband: “Yes, it’s only Barcelona.”

“And we have beaten them before.”, Erin added.

“Yeah, you got me on your team now.”, Lucy smirked at the two of you.

Grinning, you raised an eyebrow at the older defender, teasing her back: “Don’t get too distracted by your girlfriend, Bronzey.”

Lucy feigned offense: “Who do you take me for? I will beat her and then I will cheer her up.”

“Always the professional.”, Wieke said with a smile.

“You know me.”, Lucy replied.

The dressing room banter really helped to calm your nerves. It reminded you that you were all one big family and you immediately felt safe. The game, however, was something you wanted to forget as quickly as possible.

You were 4:1 down at the final whistle. You dropped to the ground, overwhelmed by frustration and disappointment and the question of what went wrong. Wishing that the pitch would just open up and swallow you whole, you just laid there, staring at the bright blue sky. Until a familiar face popped into view.

“Hey… good game.”, Aggie said, stretching out her hands to help you up.

She lifted you up, but you refused to look at her, hiding your face in her neck. There, the cameras couldn’t capture your emotional state, something that was usually written all over your face.

“You must be joking. We conceded four goals.”, you mumbled bitterly, your voice almost lost in her jersey.

It hurt the blonde to see you like this. Helplessly, she lifted your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet her pretty, sky-blue eyes.

“What do you want me to say?”, Aggie asked, her tone serious.

Quietly, you replied: “The truth.”

“We just weren’t good enough today.”, your girlfriend admitted. Frustration clouded her features. You both were ambitious in your positions, it was what had made you so good at such a young age. But it also made days like this nearly unbearable.

You nodded slowly: “Yeah. Right.”

“Come on, we’ve got another chance next week.”, she said, trying to lift your spirits.

A sad smile tugged at your lips: “We do.”

“It’ll be hard,” the forward added, her voice steadier than you expected, “but we can fix this.”

Her optimism was infectious.

“Back at home, we might have a chance.”

“With the fans? Definitely.”, Aggie hummed.

Hand in hand, the two of you walked towards the players’ tunnel. The light around you had turned golden with the late afternoon sun.

“Time to build ourselves back up.”, she murmured.

A warm clap landed on your backs.

“Come on.”, Millie said, falling in beside you.

“We’re coming.”, Aggie responded quickly, her fingers still wrapped around yours.

“Can’t wait to be home.”, you confessed to her. The beauty of the evening, the soft light, the quiet sky, only made the weight of your emotions feel heavier. A little distance from it all would do you, and the team, some good.

Even though home was the person walking beside you, the one who now gently squeezed your hand.

“Don’t worry.”, she said. “I’ll sit next to you the whole time until we’re back.”

That made the ache just a little more bearable.

You exhaled. “We could listen to music,” you suggested. Songs, not quite a cure, but a comfort. For heartbreaks, both romantic and football related.

“I like that.”, Aggie whispered. And while none of your teammates were looking, she pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

A day to forget and yet, in this quiet moment, you were incredibly grateful to call her your girlfriend.

Exactly one week later, you found yourself in the same position again. All the positive self-talk, all the planning and working on what could be improved was useless. You lost again. At home too.

This time, it was your captain who came over after the final whistle: “Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“You did good.”, she said gently, her hand resting on your left shoulder.

You stared at her, deadpan: “Mills, we lost 8:2 on aggregate.”

“Who cares about that now? We’re out anyway. But you didn’t have a bad game.”, she insisted.

You shook your head. Not bad was not enough, especially not against Barcelona.

“Where’s Aggie?”, you changed the subject, scanning the pitch for her familiar blond head.

Millie nodded toward the benches: “Over there with Lucy.”

You turned to look. Your girlfriend stood with Lucy, who was trying to comfort her. She gave her reassuring clap on the back.

“Aggie, come here. You gave it your all.”, Lucy said.

Aggie pulled away, frustrated: “No, it wasn’t enough. Y/n wanted to win.”

“Trust me, we all did. Next season we’ll go again. And we have another final to win.”, Lucy reminded her patiently.

“You’re right… but still.”

By the time you reached them, Aggie had calmed down a bit.

“Love.”, you said softly, placing your hand on her arm.

You only realised what you’d called her when Millie, Lucy and Naomi turned around in unison. “Love?!”, they echoed.

Aggie eyes widened: “Oh no…”

“Shit.”, you cursed under your breath.

Millie raised her eyebrows, a small smirk on her lips: “We want the full story now.”

“Yes, please!”, Sandy chimed in, clearly grateful for the distraction.

“It’s a long story.”, Aggie said.

Niamh narrowed her eyes: “Does that mean you have been a thing the whole time?”

“Well, since we started playing for the Chelsea senior team.”, Aggie admitted.

“And we were friends before that.”, you added.

Aggie nodded: “Exactly.”

You were tired of having this conversation right now so you turned to Aggie and said: “Long story short…”

Then you kissed her, right in front of everyone. If it was going to be public, you might as well do it right.

Lucy grimaced: “Ugh, disgusting!”

“Shut up, Lucy!”, you and Aggie shot back simultaneously, then burst out laughing.

Yes, maybe these have been the worst games of your career so far.

But there was no one else that you would rather share them with.

You'd been through ups and downs before but you always had each other. There were better games still to come.

[darkmatilda]

𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer’s curiosity leads to the exposure of your shared secret

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, reference to spencer and reader getting married in vegas, the secret marriage not so secret anymore, penelope and reid being my favorite sibling duo, reader is trying to murder reid and im saying that with the straightest face imaginable, MASSIVE diva reader lore drop, oh and lowkey angsty ending

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: request

“I’ve got him! I think I’ve got him…” Penelope spun halfway around in her chair, landing at her second monitor and typing rapidly, her fingers flying across the keyboard with focus. Spencer was standing right next to her, one hand resting on the desk, leaning over so he could see the results of her search. If their reasoning was correct, they had just managed to identify the unsub. But it was still too early to celebrate. “It has to be him! Thomas Murphy, 47 years old. Between 1994 and 2005 he worked as a plumber in Seattle before moving in with his now ex-wife… I’m sending you his address.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch replied.

Then the call ended — and that was it from their end. From Garcia’s office, there was nothing else they could do except stay by the phone in case they were needed again. Spencer finally straightened up and then, a bit aimlessly, dropped into the smaller chair beside his friend. Penelope was taking a deep breath and sliding her glasses off her nose to polish them with a yellow cloth patterned with flowers. He stretched out his legs and laced his fingers together over his stomach, trying to push away a certain stupid thought that had just appeared in his head.

“So…” Reid began, trying to convince himself it wasn’t too late to bite his stupid tongue. “We don’t have anything left to do. And I was thinking…”

“That you finally want me to teach you how to play video games?” Penelope offered smoothly, slipping her glasses back on.

Thrown off, Spencer furrowed his brows and wrinkled his nose. “What? N-no, that’s totally not what I meant, I was thinking more like…okay, never mind. It’s stupid.”

For the first time, his friend turned fully to face him, squinting at him suspiciously.

“I forbid you to back out now. I’m far too intrigued. So?”

He held his breath for a moment before exhaling heavily. He could’ve just said nothing. But since he already had… and since he couldn’t shake the idea from his head…

“You know, I’ve been thinking lately about how much information about specific people you’re able to find in such an impressively short amount of time…”

“Oh my goodness, you want me to stalk someone for you!”

Despite the flush on his cheeks, the look on his face was absolutely, deeply, immensely offended.

“Using the word stalking in this context is a serious misuse,” he objected, raising both hands as if shielding himself from the mere suggestion. “And you should know that, working here. Stalking refers to persistent harassment, systematic pursuit and intimidation of a person that causes them fear, anxiety, and a sense of danger — it is definitely not the same as retrieving publicly accessible information from the internet…”

Penelope rolled her eyes dramatically.

“That’s just what people say. But the answer is yes, my love, I’ll happily stalk someone for you.”

Spencer felt like he couldn’t open his mouth and actually ask her to do it out loud. Deep down, he still thought it was stupid. But maybe he gave himself away — that flicker of gratitude in his eyes in response to her readiness. Penelope clapped her hands excitedly, spinning toward the screen.

“Who’s the lucky one? Kidding, you don’t even have to tell me. I know who it is.”

He scoffed at her confidence — how could she possibly know?

 “I bet you’re wrong…” His expression fell the moment Garcia pulled up the exact name he’d intended to give her in the first place. He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Okay, yes, that’s who I meant, but it’s not what you think!”

 “Sweetie, there’s no need to explain anything to me. I get it completely, even if you don’t get it yet.”

 He opened his mouth to disagree, only to find himself stalled by his own words. Especially that second part. He stayed quiet for a long moment, turning them over in his mind. What brought him back was her next question.

 “Tell me what you want to know.”

 He shrugged, genuinely unsure.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I want any sensitive, private information or anything I couldn’t ask about myself…”

 “Mhmm, just like I thought. Ex-lovers.”

 He quickly started shaking his head.

 “No… I mean… not exactly…you’re the one who suggested—”

 “Wait, did you know she used to be a model?”

Until now sitting with his back fully pressed against the chair’s backrest, Spencer jumped up so fast he nearly smashed his nose on the computer screen. Penelope didn’t even tease him, which indicated she was just as surprised. In the heavy silence, barely blinking, they watched an ad for a lip makeup line from about ten years ago. A brand small enough that they didn’t use real celebrities, but big enough that it was…impressive.

But Spencer wasn’t silent because he was impressed. He was silent, head slightly tilted to the side and lips parted just a little, because he had just realized he had never seen—or even wondered about—how she used to look. Younger, with a different hairstyle and even a different gaze, less experienced and less relentless, but still carrying plenty of confidence. Just not as much as now.

For the record, he also had to admit she was very attractive. But that part hadn’t changed.

Penelope mouthed wow—just the movement of her lips. Or maybe she had said it out loud, but he was slightly dazed, meaning focused on something else, and only registered the movement, not the sound. Either way, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, catching herself.

“Right. You asked about her ex-lovers.”

Spencer was immediately snapped out of his daze—meaning focus.

“I didn’t!” he protested, which, technically, was true. She had been the one to bring it up; he’d just failed to shut it down. But he didn’t want the responsibility for it sticking to him. Garcia had already gotten back to the keyboard when he went on. “I didn’t ask about her ex-lovers, that’s just your projection. Honestly, the last thing I’m interested in is her—”

“Oh, she was engaged once,” she cut in.

Reid froze.

“What happened to her fiancé?” slipped out of him before he could stop it.

Penelope gave him a sideways look, mockingly.

“Right. The last thing you’re interested in.”

“Oh, come on. You were so happy to help me stalk her, so now at least do it right and tell me what happened to her fiancé.”

 “Ouch, no need to bite. I’m trying to find out! Believe it or not, she’s my friend too and I’m also curious.” She opened some page in the browser. Suddenly, she paused, one finger hovering over the mouse. She turned slowly to Spencer. “We are disgustingly nosy, aren’t we?”

 “We…” Spencer hesitated, feeling like Garcia kind of had a point. But his curiosity won. “Maybe a little. Who isn’t. So what about the fiancé?”

 “Look, that’s them at his sister’s wedding.” All of Penelope’s moral hesitation evaporated as she showed him a photo. “I mean, the fiancé. And here they are together.”

They both went silent for a moment, judging. Eventually, Spencer gathered himself enough to form a truly eloquent, thoughtful sentence.

 “Compared to her… he kind of looks like…a loser.”

 “He lowkey looks like you,” said Penelope at almost the same time, apparently not hearing his previous comment. He gave her a look, which she ignored. His eyes went back to the screen, to the photo of them with their arms around each other, but this time he focused on the man beside her, absolutely disagreeing with his friend’s remark.

That guy looked nothing like him. Sure, he was tall, had brown eyes and a slender frame, but other than that his hair was darker. Two completely different people. As he analyzed their similarities, Garcia kept rambling.

 “You know, I’ve been out for drinks with her a few times and judging by the kind of guys who always hit on her, I was convinced her type was more…chunky guys, you know what I mean. Oh Reid, I feel bad that I found this. She never told me she was engaged, probably didn’t want to talk about it. I wonder what happened. Did they break up or… wait, you don’t think he… oh whew, haha, he’s alive and well. Look, he has a labrador now. So they broke up… WAIT!”

Penelope leaned toward the screen, her face suddenly tense. Spencer jumped in his seat.

 “What is it?”

 “Did you know she has a husband now… wait, is that the same guy…?”

A cold sweat flooded not just the back of Reid’s neck, but also his spine, ribs, and  even heels. He became cold sweat. He shook his head quickly, desperately trying to steer Garcia away from that thought.

 “You know, you were absolutely right, we shouldn’t be digging through her past like this, I’m really not comfortable with it…”

He trailed off — it was already too late. Penelope turned to him, jaw dropped in shock, eyes full of disbelief, accusation, and a clear demand for explanation.

*

Flowers and coffee.

Flowers and her favorite coffee.

That should do the trick, right?

Okay, Spencer wasn’t deluding himself—it wouldn’t. He was just hoping, really hoping, that when she inevitably decided to murder him, she’d at least do it in a not-particularly-brutal way. But seriously, if he delivered the news gently…okay, no, she’d still be furious. There was no avoiding it.

Spencer stepped into her lab after putting it off and standing outside the door for so long that the coffee he’d brought her was nearly cold. She was busy working, so she didn’t even notice as he approached, slowed, and finally stopped just behind her. A bit of her blouse was sticking out from under her lab coat—it was almost exactly the same color as the dress she’d been wearing in that photo with her ex-fiancé. Funny, that this was what he thought of right now...

“How much longer are you planning to stand there breathing down my neck?” she hissed, not showing even the slightest sign that she’d noticed him. But she had.

Startled, he stepped back half a pace. He cleared his throat—none of the twenty versions of this conversation he’d rehearsed had started like this. Think, Reid, think...

“I brought you something,” he said, just to break the strange silence that had fallen between them. They weren’t entirely alone in the room, but none of the other chemists paid them the slightest bit of attention.

The woman paused at his words, then slowly turned around, resting both hands on the counter behind her, raising an eyebrow even before she saw what he was holding. Once she did, her brows only went slightly higher.

“What’s the occasion?”

Spencer swallowed—her eye contact made him even more nervous. He couldn’t…he couldn’t just blurt out hey, I brought you flowers so you won’t kill me for the fact that I accidentally spilled to Penelope that we got drunk married in Vegas…

He decided to start vague. Then ease into the specifics.

“What’s the occasion…Well, I realized I never thanked you for last time. When I got beaten up and you…took care of me.”

Technically, he really hadn’t thanked her, so he sounded very sincere. Because he was sincere, with the small problem that this wasn’t the whole story. And because he sounded so sincere, he felt like with every word he said…her expression softened just a little more, showing not the slightest trace of suspicion.

Internally, Spencer was panicking.

He wanted her to be suspicious! He wanted her to be skeptical! He’d rather she were in a bad mood from the start, so the change that was about to happen wouldn’t be so abrupt!

A heavy feeling was crushing his chest.

“So, that’s what it’s for. Thank you.” First, he handed her the coffee, so she could set it down on the counter behind her, and then the bouquet.

Red roses—probably had some symbolic meaning, but he hadn’t cared when buying them. He just wanted them to be her favorite color and ridiculously gorgeous. 

She accepted them with an unreadable expression. The bouquet was so large she had to tilt it to one side so it wouldn’t block his face while they talked. Her head tilted slightly as well.

“Thanks accepted,” she replied with a nod.

It wasn’t a dry response. In fact, her tone was unusually soft. But also expectant.

Expecting whatever else he was about to say.

He drew a breath.

"You look…luminous, sophisticated, truly breathtaking today," he added, eyes wide from the stress, not blinking. “Penelope knows we got married.”

Her arms dropped sharply to her sides, bouquet and all, and a petal from one of the roses floated to the floor.

“Oh, I fucking knew it!” she shouted at him, punctuating it with a stomp of her heel. For his own safety, Spencer took another step back. “I knew the moment you started complimenting me. Before that, I was still holding on to the delusion that the flowers were actually out of the goodness of your heart and gratitude…”

 “...because they are out of the goodness of my heart and gratitude—”

“Shut up. Shut up, don’t you dare interrupt me or correct me right now.” She pointed a warning finger at him. But after a moment, her hand curled into a fist, and her eyelids clenched as she took a calming breath. Without opening her eyes, she ground out through clenched teeth, “How did it happen that Penelope—whom I obviously love, but who can’t keep anything a secret—found out?”

Spencer raised both hands in a defensive gesture, his brain spinning and steaming, doing everything it could not to reveal the actual circumstances of how it all happened.

“By accident—really, I… let it slip,” he lied, hoping the desperation in his voice would mask the lack of truth, and that she was too angry to act as a lie detector. “Honestly, it was my fault, I’m fully aware, I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry—”

“And you really thought that some stupid flowers would make me not angry?”

“Well, flowers and coffee—”

He had to duck to avoid getting hit in the face with them.

“I thought maybe you’d be less angry!” he explained. “And don’t hit me with them, they didn’t do anything…!”

“That’s exactly why I’m hitting you, dumbass.”

But that was, in fact, the last display of such open aggression toward him. Sure, she was still furious, tense and ticking but Spencer, watching from what he considered a safe distance, felt slightly more secure.

For a moment, silence fell between them.

She leaned her lower back against the counter, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

“You know we have to do something about this, right?”

Spencer nodded, terrified that saying anything might reset their relationship to what it had been two minutes and forty-one seconds ago.

“I already know what,” she declared. “And you, as compensation for what you’ve done, are going to help me. Also, put those flowers in some water.”

Naturally, he did as he was told.

*

“This is weird.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have spilled, and we wouldn’t have to do this.”

“It’s still weird! I mean, we could’ve just politely asked her not to tell anyone. I’m almost certain she would’ve respected that…”

“Exactly—almost certain. And I want full certainty. So hush, I think she’s coming.”

Penelope stepped into the interrogation room where they’d arranged to meet her, glancing around uncertainly.

“Are we even allowed to be in here?”

Spencer gave her a reassuring—and at the same time apologetic—look, even though he wasn’t entirely sure they were allowed to be there either.

His companion didn’t even flinch.

“My dear Penelope, do you know why we wanted to see you here today?”

Garcia sat down on the opposite side of the table—right where they usually placed the people being interrogated. Though initially hesitant and reserved, she suddenly clasped her hands together with an impressively bold expression.

“As a matter of fact, I do know why you wanted to see me here,” she declared, her eyes darting between their faces. “Because even though on a daily basis you claim you don’t even like each other, you literally got married. And that’s not something normal people do. I mean—I love you two, and I’m rooting for you—but those are just the facts.”

Spencer was watching her profile as she listened to those words. He noticed she rolled her eyes at the I love you two, and I’m rooting for you part. But other than that, she didn’t seem particularly moved by what Penelope had said.

 Unlike him.

Reid had apparently needed to hear it from a third party to start actually wondering if, yeah, maybe it wasn’t entirely normal.

“I guess we’re not normal,” she said plainly, shrugging nonchalantly. Then suddenly she sighed and looked at the woman in front of her with something almost like tenderness. “Penelope, you know I love you, but I will murder you if you tell anyone. Just to be safe, I’ve prepared this.”

She reached into the front pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a document.

 “A nondisclosure agreement. Just a little incentive for you to keep quiet.”

Both Spencer and Penelope stared at her, completely baffled.

His confusion was layered with something else.

“You’re really embarrassed you married me, aren’t you?” slipped out of him.

She turned her head toward him—they locked eyes.

Garcia stood up nervously from her chair.

“Maybe I should give you two a moment—”

She was stopped with a quick hand gesture.

“I’m not embarrassed that I married you,” she said, looking at him sternly. She barely blinked. “I’m embarrassed by the circumstances. And the fact that we still haven’t dealt with it.”

“Well, if I recall correctly, it was a mutual decision.”

“A stupid decision. What were we even thinking?”

Spencer felt a strange, uncomfortable tension inside him, in her, and between them.

Penelope clearly felt it too, because she quickly pulled the document toward herself and signed it with an exaggerated flourish.

“There you go. And now I’m off. Nothing worse than getting stuck in the middle of a marital argument. Kisses!”

And just like that, she disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in the interrogation room.

For a moment, the silence was incredibly heavy. Spencer was used to silences like that. He’d conducted dozens, if not hundreds, of interrogations. But this was the first time the silence felt like his problem.

They stood across from each other on either side of the short table, which, given the size of the room, meant they were fairly close. He no longer stole uncertain glances at her profile—he stared openly now, with far too many questions about her sudden shift in how she was approaching the decision they had once made together.

“We should’ve gotten divorced right away,” she said coldly, turning her head but not her body toward him. “Then it wouldn’t have gotten so...too real.”

Too real. Spencer didn’t even get a chance to reflect on those words before she walked out of the room, leaving the two of them, him and the silence, behind. 

Too real. He didn’t understand those words, not even when he did think about them. Or rather, he understood their meaning, their connection, what they implied but he didn’t understand how they related to them.

And yet, as the next few minutes passed, he remembered that small stab of excitement when Garcia agreed to look her up for him and the other sharp pang when he stared at the photo of her with her ex fiancé and maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to understand what the whole too real thing had meant.

[eznin]

Just imagine 22 years old in-okay-terms-with-the-bats Jason meeting 19 years old murderous-hell-bent-on-revenge Jason

-------------

Teen Jason, absolutely horrified that he not only failed to kill the Joker but he also managed to be re-adopted: How the fuck did this happen?!

Adult Jason, who is also not sure : Idk, Dick just kept inviting me to go get lunch and it all went downhill from there.

Teen Jason: Did we at least kill him?

Adult Jason: Timothy? No, but he fixed our helmet the other day.

Teen Jason: ...you are pathetic.

Adult Jason, still struggling a bit with self esteem issues: And this is why no one likes you.

-------------

Bruce is loosing it with having to find a way to solve this time travel mess while simultaneously keeping Teen Jason from killing someone.

On the other hand Tim is looking at Teen Jason, who is the same age as him and still has a little bit of baby face even after the pit, and wonders at how was he terrified of this dude for so long.

Dick, Steph and Cass just refuse to acknowledge any of Teen Jason's threats and have a lot of fun doing it.

Steph: Baby Jay, do you want pancakes ?

Teen Jason, who just tried to stab Dick with a dinner knife only to have his arm twisted in the most casual and infuriating way possible: I hate all of you.

Cass, already stacking pancakes on his plate: Love you too.

-------------

At one point they consider tying Teen Jason to a chair because he keeps trying to shot Bruce and Tim (and sometimes Dick) in the back.

Bruce, looking at the Batcomputer: So this way we might finally get younger Jason back to his time.

Teen Jason, who was let into the cave after promising to behave: That's an actually good plan, just a sugestion...

Teen Jason suddenly pulls out a revolver and unloads the entire cylinder into Bruce’s chest, who started always wearing bullet proof clothes until the mess is solved and only rubs his temple in response.

Bruce: I told you to keep him away from guns.

Tim: We did, I don't know where he got that from.

-------------

The only ones Teen Jason tolerates are Damian, because he just recently left the League and still has a bit of a protective streak. Duke, because there is no bad blood and he isn't too annoying. And Alfred, because he is Alfred.

Adult Jason can never ever be near Teen Jason or they will fist fight, although the worst part is the psychological damage. They know exactly what to say to make the other flinch.

-------------

Teen Jason does everything in his power to be an absolute nightmare, because if he doesn't he will have to think about how these people somehow don't hate him. And if they don't hate him then there is a chance his Bruce and the bats back home also don't hate him and that's too much for his heart to take.

Teen Jason, nearly crying: How can you not hate me?

Bruce, in the softest voice possible despite Teen Jason having exploded the Batmobile with an home made bomb in an attempt to push Bruce over the edge: I could never hate you, Jaybird.

Teen Jason's eyes go so wide and poisonous glowing green that everyone goes tense waiting for him to spontaneous combust out of rage.

Then there is a sob.

Oh, fuck he is crying.

-------------

Past Bruce is a mix of surprised, suspicious and hopefull when Jason shows up again after being inactive for two weeks and is not only not trying to torture them with shakespearian plots but also accepted one of Dick's lunch invites (Dick is just as surprised, he had been making them as a joke)

[ziggy-scardust]

Gah. I was an engineer at SpaceX on Crew Dragon for a few years, before it launched, during which time everything I learned about real integration & test engineering was from our NASA counterparts. I am 100% serious. I was fresh out of school and instead of the job I interviewed for, I was doing certification & test engineering for life support systems and answerable directly to the folks at NASA who had contracted SpaceX for Crew Dragon. I should not have been doing that job at that age.

yeah, I walked in having drunk at least some of the kool-aid. And I got schooled by my NASA counterparts, mostly 20-30 years my senior, all Shuttle alumni, who knew too well what could go wrong and were deeply suspicious of SpaceX’s cavalier attitude. They were the ones who taught me how test engineering actually should work and with them, I developed qualification & acceptance test plans that made damn sure we weren’t going to kill any astronauts. And y’know what? We didn’t. (*knocks on wood*) Crew Dragon couldn’t have in-flight iterations like that. Even when Elon, who was less nuts at the time, suggested not doing an in-flight abort test before Demo 2 (first human launch), that idea got killed. NASA Commercial Crew really held our feet to the fire and made us do it right. (Plus, Crew Dragon was starved of resources for years in favor of Falcon Heavy - we never got budget for technician & machinist time - so we straight up couldn’t have afforded to blow up anything anyway).

So I know for a fact that SpaceX is capable of doing proper integration testing. Unfortunately, a lot of the people I worked with were basically just rocket-flavored versions of techbros, and it was very few of us pushing back on their kool-aid. Many of the ones I knew pushing back have now left.

Then the space tech arena got flooded with techbros and VC bros in the 2020-2022 timeframe when interest rates were low and Elon worship was at its peak and VCs were on a space investment hype cycle and handing out money to anyone who could hire a former SpaceX engineer and say “give us money! We’re gonna build 3D-printed rockets/mine asteroids/do earth observation that’s indistinguishable from a bunch of stuff already being done by the public sector”. And now? Now we’re reaping this “hardware engineering but make it sprint/scrum style” legacy in a way that is driving me straight up the bloody wall. Agreed with @tehnakki that you can kinda get away with some of that in LEO (especially with cubesats & the like) - but I’m still skeptical of this bc LEO is FLOODED with junk and everything that goes there adds to the burden.

See, I went from SpaceX to JPL. And we had ONE shot with Perseverance. ONE. And we had to launch and land the damn thing in the middle of a pandemic and I had to run multiple four-day-long operational readiness tests with dozens of flight ops engineers for the critical events and keep the testbed operational with 20-year-old irreplaceable hardware which was all we could afford because this mission was only ever funded to begin with because we had spare parts from Curiosity. And it worked. The first goddamn time.

Everyone hates integration & test engineers because we cost money and we know what we’re talking about and expose it when other people don’t. But we also tend to not blow up whole vehicle stacks.

the number of spacecraft failures recently has been absolutely insane and it all comes down to tech bros barging into the industry going "it's not that hard wtf is nasa so bad" and then completely skipping out on any testing

[yoiurboi]

Just Roll With It: Matron Rose AU

[Part One: Synopsis]

"Growing up, Ava Corvey was destined for greatness. And even though they saw the darkness in their path she felt as though she could work against it. Make a change. But then the worst of the worst of the worst happened.

She tried running away. She tried drinking her problems away and forgetting. But they could never outgrow their roots. Literally, and figuratively. As those flaming orange roots came back in, something her hit her. And she realized she still had something left to do.

With the chains of her past still hanging on her, and the weight of the whiskey in her bag weighing them down, Corvey Jay set sail, looking for the answers to every question she had asked in past two years. And this time, they wouldn't stop without getting an answer."

BOOM! Ava jump scare! It was kind of tough to come up with stuff for them, since we don't actually know too much about Ava in canon. I mean, as much as they are important to the narrative, we've mostly just been given "good" and "brave". Oh, and "dead", but that doesn't apply here.

Apparently Ava is monk, so I really wanted to play with that using the Drunken Master subclass. I think the loss of Jay would hit Ava way harder than vice versa. Not that Jay somehow loves Ava less than Ava does to her, but the loss of a younger sibling, someone who you feel the need to protect, idk, that's just a lot more devastating I think.

I figure Ava would lean more into full blown abandoning the Ferin name. Especially since, being higher ranked than Jay was in canon, they would have a little more... knowledge of what happened and IS currently happening.

Anyways, sorry for the long wait! If you're interested in more of this AU, then tell me who you want to see next!

[midasriku]

THE PROPOSAL ᯓ★ (PREVIEW!)

An exclusive first look into the first instalment in the ‘love from the 2000s’ series, coming to a screen near you! stay tuned!

PAIRING • assistant!haechan x boss!reader

SYNOPSIS • When you, a high-powered book editor, face deportation, you somehow convince your mildly annoying and very much attractive assistant Haechan to marry you in a fake green card marriage. To prove the relationship is real, you both go the mile. The two of you visit his family in Jeju, where unexpected complications, pestering relatives, old secrets and real feelings arise. Will you both make it out with a legal marriage? Or will you have to kiss your sweet life, and everyone in it, goodbye? Stay tuned to find out!

The trip to the district office after work to sort out your affairs went a lot worse than you had initially predicted. After cutting the line (which Haechan gave you an earful for, though you know he cuts the line when getting your lattes every morning), you were then escorted into a district officer’s private room, where he proceeded to question you about your legitimate relationship. He was certain you were lying and tried coaxing Haechan to tell him the truth, judging from his blank expression and constant fidgeting he did the entire time you both were in there. 

Questions upon questions were asked. And you, being as calm and collected as you could be, answered each one with a lie so precise, it had Haechan wondering if you were a conwoman in your past life. 

The district officer turned to your assistant, noticing him adjusting his tie every five minutes since entering the room, and told him to be truthful. Never mind that his boss could potentially be deported in doing so, he never liked you anyway. He never liked the way you told him to dress better the first time you met him. He never liked the way you’d give him all the carrots off your plate, despite him hating carrots as well. He never liked the way you’d fall asleep on his shoulder during long car rides, causing his shoulder to get stiff because he couldn’t move. Or didn’t have the heart to, never knowing why. 

“The truth is, Officer,” Haechan started in a timid and gentle voice. He looked like he was about to cry, or maybe blow up. You couldn’t tell. “The truth is…”

You started getting nervous. Sure, you thought Haechan was going to listen to you. But you also had a part of you, the part that still had reason, that worried he would come to realise the gravity of the situation and throw you under the bus. You looked at him, a slightly pleading look evident on your features. 

He felt your gaze and turned to look at you. He noticed the little scar on your left eye when the two of you got in a minor car accident a year ago. Suddenly, he felt his matching one on the right grow warm. 

“The truth is we’re just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love. But we did,” he said. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped you, and you went back to a neutral expression. He had used the line you fed your bosses earlier today, which made you smile. A genuine one you hid behind your hand, feigning a yawn.

The district officer didn’t look at all convinced, but nodded along anyway. “I assume your families know about this?” he asked. 

You started shaking your head. “No, my parents are dead,” you laughed dryly. “His, however, are not,” you pointed to Haechan, and he nodded. “Oh yeah, they are very much alive. Actually, we were gonna tell them over the weekend,” he said. You recall him telling you earlier this morning about his grandmother’s 90th birthday celebration. 

“Yes, it’s Granny’s 90th birthday. The whole shindig. It’ll be great,” you tried adding on, making it as believable as possible. The officer squinted his eyes and leaned forward in question. 

“And where exactly does Granny live?” he asked you. You blundered, not knowing at all where Haechan’s family lived. “They, um,” you faced your assistant, who was holding in a laugh beside you. “They…live,” you threw your hands up in a huff and gestured to the man beside you. “Why am I doing all the talking? This is your family, baby, why don’t you tell him?” 

The pet name that left your mouth had to have been in the top ten most outrageous things you’ve said. And you’ve said a lot of outrageous things in the three years that he’s known you. Haechan blinked at you with pink lips tied with a smile. 

“Jeju,” he said, not looking away from you. 

It was like the air in your lungs was punched out with a single word. Jeju? In all your time living in Seoul, you had never been to Jeju. Had Haechan mentioned he was from there?

He turned back to the officer in front of him, grinning with a Cheshire-cat-like smile. 

“We’re going to Jeju,”

a/n: WE ARE LOCKED TF IN RIGHT NOW BESTIES

ᝰ.ᐟ taglist open!: @ball-312 @luvhaeli @nctubatu @enhalovie @ilovejungwonandhaechan @eumppapasmom @sundamariis @tiazennie @kongjjen

[leechqnsgirl]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆ cause you're my iron man, and I love you 3000

notes: based off of this ask, this is kinda different from the actual ask I'm sorry 😭

-- you and niki have an argument.

or

-- the one where you both miss each other but don't know how to say it

niki x fem!reader | wc: 2.9k | angst, comfort, idol au | masterlist | warnings: language, crying, kissing, reader's a college student

****

the past two weeks have just been weird.

conversations between the two of you used to come natural.

it was almost like drinking water between the two of you. and its crazy to think of where you two are now.

it's hard to even fit your sleeping schedules today.

he's out all day and you're out for half of it.

the other half you don't get to breathe.

you're putting up with it because you knew this was the cost to be able to graduate with the degree that you want.

he hasn't even been staying many nights at your place anymore. you'd gotten the same text from him every night around seven pm for a week.

-sorry I can't come over tonight, don't wait up for me!

but the second week came and he stopped texting in all.

it stung a bit. because even though that message would bring your mood down. it was still from him. it was something from him.

sometimes you'd text him a good morning, he'd reply hours later with a good night.

it just felt like you were chasing after the shadow of him, you could see him there but he would inevitably be unreachable, and you were beginning to sense your legs giving out.

niki wasn't doing any better than you.

his face was drained of his natural color, he had bags under his eyes from the nights he lied awake in bed, fighting his thoughts.

it was never easy for him to speak on his feelings, never easy to be the first to do something.

his thoughts were eating him alive. no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't reach out first.

he hated how he felt. he hated himself. he hated that he stopped texting you, stopped calling, stopped coming by.

your apartment was a thirty minute drive from his dorm. he doesn't know what's holding him back.

the boys had noticed this change in him, but nobody asked him about it. they knew he'd just brush it off. he'd tell them it's nothing.

so they didn't push. they stayed quiet. despite the soundless whispers they'd share between each other at night about him.

niki knew.

how could he not? he noticed everything.

it wasn't until the end of the two week mark that jake walked up to him.

they finished practice and the plan was to shower then head over to the recording room.

everyone left, and jake was about to follow after but his hand slipped from the handle.

the door shut abruptly, the noise catching niki’s attention, making him turn his head towards the door.

"hyung?" niki called out, jake dropped the bag that was hanging off his shoulder.

he walked over to where niki was sitting against the mirrored walls.

he copied his position, sitting criss-crossed in front of him.

"just," he sighed, "just say it, niki." jake's eyebrows furrowed, "what's going on?"

niki bit his tongue. jake didn't even ask what's wrong. he asked what was going on. and that was enough of a difference to make his eyes sting.

"I'm an asshole." niki whispered. "I-I don't even know what to do to fix what I did." niki felt a hand on his knee. it was warm against his cold skin, even though he was still sweaty from practice.

"I can help, or i'll try to. just tell me."

niki's head finally raised, his red eyes that were heavy from fatigue finally meeting jakes.

"I don't even know how it started. we were fine like three weeks ago. I was holding her before bed, and she'd wake me up. we'd get ready for the day together," he sniffled, "a-and then I just started getting really busy with our comeback and I was canceling a lot on her. and the days I was finally free she'd cancel on me because of finals seasons. it was just back and forth from there." niki rubbed his left eye with his index finger. jake saw that it was wet when he lowered his hand from his face.

"I stopped texting her everyday because I felt embarrassed. I mean, I'm her boyfriend. the whole point of me is to be there for her. she shouldn't even have to call out my name for me to be next to her."

jake let out a quiet breath. niki breathed in a heavy one.

"I really fucked up. and I can't even bring myself to talk to her. every chance that I get to, I just pull back. I don't know whats fucking wrong with me." he let out a sob now, his hands coming up to rest on his head.

jake pulled his hands away from his head, grabbing his shoulders.

"nothing is wrong with you. okay?" niki tilted his head. "you're just going through a bump in the road. a very large bump. but one nonetheless. and you know the thing about bumps?" niki shook his head. "they end. they're there, and they're a pain in the ass but they end."

jake saw the tears in his eyes fall down, his nose red.

"go over to her apartment right now. I'll tell everyone you weren't feeling well. I want you to go over to her empty handed and talk. even if the thought of it is nauseating." niki gulps, but he nods his head.

jake pulled him into his arms, just holding him there. he could feel niki trembling. the poor boy went nearly a month with no touch, no contact.

niki pulled away, looking at jake's face for a few seconds.

"thank you."

--

the drive to your apartment was daunting.

the whole thirty-two minutes he was on the verge of either sobbing or throwing up.

so when he finally parked his car in front of the building, he rubbed a hand over his face and pulled his hoodie over his head.

he made his way up to your room number. a heavy breath made its way out of his body.

he knocked three times then stopped.

looking at his phone, it was 6:13.

he doesn't know if you're home right now. he doesn't even know if you're home.

soon enough, the door swung open.

"riki?"

his heart broke at your voice.

you couldn't believe that he was standing in front of you.

your thoughts were nonstop but your mind was empty.

you thought seeing him would make you sad, upset.

but really, it just made you angry.

you brought him inside. not wanting your nosy neighbors to get an ear of whatever was going to happen.

"what are you doing here." you asked flatly.

you could see his lips turn downwards.

"y/n-" he stopped himself when he saw your face.

you looked so....disappointed, angry, upset, annoyed, and everything in between. the look was enough to make all his emotions resurface.

no words were coming out of his mouth and that somehow worsened it all for him.

"I know you didn't drive all the way here after three weeks to guilt trip me, riki." you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"no.." he mumbled, gazing at the ground.

"god, I'm so sorry. I don't even know how to start." he licked his lips, "I was so-, god, so wrong and selfish and I shouldn't have ghosted you. I'm supposed to be there with you and I failed. I left y-you alone because I was afraid. and you know what? I still am." his voice broke towards the end.

your face softened a bit. just a bit.

"that doesn't make up for any of this, riki." your voice was firm, your hands moved to gesture between you two.

"I know." he sounded so broken, "and it's my fault, I should've talked with you, I shouldn't have kept everything inside." "but you did."

he felt powerless. like no matter what he would say, or do, wouldn't be enough.

"y/n, please. it was so hard, baby. I swear it." he felt a lump form in his throat. "I couldn't sleep well, I didn't wanna eat. I missed you. so much. and it fucking killed me knowing I could have fixed everything earlier. it was just so hard. it felt like the past three weeks, everything bad in my life was piling up. it's been so hard."

he took a step closer to you.

"I love you. I love you. I love you and everything about you. I missed all of you too." his hands balled into fists on his sides, he felt like he had to physically stop himself from touching you. he didn't know if he had your permission just yet.

"I missed how you'd hold me, how you'd wake me up, how it was you I'd come home to." he knew he probably looked and sounded pathetic. but at this point? he didn't care.

when you saw niki cry, that was it for you. you couldn't help but get watery eyes too.

he never cried, not in front of you at least.

its been two years of you two dating and he's never actually cried in front of you.

"riki-" he shook his head. "please don't call me that." his eyes looked at you, they were red, a bit puffy and held such a weight to them.

he always told you how much he hated hearing his full name from you.

"I-I know i shouldn't have done all of this. and i know i keep saying how i shouldnt have or what i should've done but, please. can i get another chance?"

you sighed, the whole facade you were hoping of keeping up came crumbling down.

you couldn't stay mad at him, maybe upset, but not mad. and you didn't want to yell at him.

"okay.." you walked up to right in front of him, not making any contact yet. "but we're still gonna talk later."

he nodded his head, biting on his lower lip.

"it isn't just your fault, its mine a bit too." he shook his head at your words. "n-no, baby. its all me. really."

you brought a hand up to his cheek. you felt your heart break when he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

how did you go nearly a month without this man? and how did he nearly go a month without you?

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. his warmth. the way his shoulders shook slightly against yours and the crook of your neck got wet from his face was enough to really break you.

having him in your arms like this, you couldn't deny the fact that you didn't miss him anymore.

niki kept his voice quiet, still muttering a string of "I'm sorry"s into your body.

you brought a hand up to rest on the back of his head, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pulled closer to your body.

"I missed you too, baby. I missed you so much. i'm sorry."

the feeling of your hand in his hair and the emotion he felt from your words calmed him down. shaky breaths leaving him now.

ten minutes, ten solid minutes of the two of you sitting in each other arms passed when you said the first word.

"niki, baby?" you called out softly, you heard him reply with a hum. "let's eat, yeah? I know you're probably hungry." he pulled away from you, but kept a hand on your sleeve. he nodded his head, following you as you walked into your kitchen.

you had some leftover food from yesterday, and so you began heating those up.

the whole time you could feel him watching him. like he wanted to say something but he couldn't bring himself to say it. and whenever your eyes would look at him, his would stray away. gazing at the ground as he played with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

niki doesn't think he's ever felt so welcomely unwelcome.

he knew you were okay with him being there, in your own space, but something was still eating at him, telling him he shouldn't even be allowed to have the luxury of sitting down and eating with you.

he was quiet, standing by the entrance of the kitchen and watching you.

the same kitchen you two would make your morning coffees together and bake silly recipes you found online.

it's crazy how fast things can change.

"riki?" you called out. "yeah?" he looked at you with glossy eyes. "come on, let's go sit."

the first thing he noticed when you two sat at your dinner table was the food.

you'd purposefully given him a much larger portion than your own plate.

he reached over the table for your hands, placing a kiss to both of them.

"thank you." he whispered, holding onto your hands tightly.

the whole dinner was silent, you both finished and brought your dishes to the kitchen. he washed and you dried.

that feeling settled into niki again.

"can I stay over....?" he asked when you two finished cleaning.

did he really think you were going to say no?

"of course you can, you wanna freshen up? I'll just be out here." you placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing up and down. he nodded his head, walking away.

niki went into your room, you had a cabinet full of his clothes because of how often he'd stay over.

he picked out some for himself and went into the bathroom.

you still had his toothbrush, his face wash, his shampoo. everything was still there.

maybe he was in his head too much.

twenty minutes passed from then until he came out, he seemed calmer. his face looked like it too.

niki saw you working on the couch, laptop in your lap as you typed away to whatever assignment you were doing.

he took a seat next to you, his leg bouncing as he decided what he should say. or do.

before he even knew it, you were closing your laptop and facing him.

you laid your head on his chest, snuggling into him. niki felt his heartbeat speed up, he was pretty sure you could hear it.

"I'll always love you. no matter what." you reassured, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

his breath hitched, and his cheeks tinted with a light pink. niki was always a bit sensitive there. the lack of physical contact and sensitivity made him catch your kiss off guard.

he cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around your waist.

your face was resting softly, there didn't seem to be any trace of your previous emotions.

your eyes were heavy with sleep, cheeks bare from any makeup, and your lips,

god your lips.

he missed them. he missed how they felt, how warm they were. he missed the feeling of them on his own.

he didn't even realize he had a hand tracing over your face. he pulled his hand back quickly.

he couldn't be the first one to touch you. not after everything. you have to set the boundaries and he'll follow.

"why'd you move your hand?" his eyes widened. "u-um, I didn't know if you'd want me to...um, touch you again." his voice was so small, not even in volume but just in its emotion.

"you really think that I don't want you to? now?" he shrugged his shoulders weakly.

you got up, moving to straddle his lap, placing both your hands on his face.

"baby," you looked into his eyes, gaze never wavering. "i'm your girlfriend, niki. I want you to hold me and touch me." your thumb rubbing circles into his face.

he nodded his head, placing his shaky hands on your waist. he breathed out from his nose, his eyes closing and his head falling onto your shoulder.

"right," he mumbled.

he relaxed himself again, focusing on the way your body felt against his.

he doesnt think he could even express in words how much pain he was in for the past weeks.

hed gotten so used to everything from you.

when he'd get a hug from his members, it didn't feel the same as yours. it didn't hold the same satisfying heaviness as yours did.

he'd never tell you, but over at his dorm you left a hoodie behind.

every night he fall asleep with it, and every morning he'd wake up early enough to hide it before one of the boys saw.

but he didn't know that he did a bad job at that. he didn't know that jungwon was always the one to wake up the earliest and peek into everyone's rooms.

and he didn't know that jungwon had texted you countless times, asking when's the next time you'd come over. just to be completely dodged by your replies.

and you'd never tell him, but he had a cologne of his that he left over at your place once. and you'd spray it on one of your pillows, holding it when you'd fall asleep.

"I'm tired, ki..." you mumbled against him, adjusting your head against his chest.

he bit back a smile, one caused purely because of the cuteness he saw from you.

"let's sleep, then." he said quietly, holding onto you as he laid down on the couch. your body on top of his.

he closed his eyes when he heard your voice again.

"ki?"

"yeah?"

"you'll be here...when I wake up. right?"

he interlocked his hand with yours. squeezing gently.

"yeah. I will." he promised, bringing your hand up as he placed a kiss on it. 

[oleander-cup]

VANNAH MY SWEET BABY <333 i love you so much and am so glad that we kept in contact <333 okay if you don’t get tagged chat don’t be upset i’m tagging random ones !

@hiraethwa - ave of course you’re included in this list, you were my first moot and have stayed with me through thick and thin. i appreciate you in ways i won’t be able to ever fully express

@hatsukeii - i know you’re not on tumblr much anymore but i still love and appreciate you. you’re so funny, never go bald. thank you for keeping in contact with me even though you left tumblr for hiatus!

@kameyyy - mey !!! ough, i need to come visit you one day my sweet, you’re always such a breath of fresh air and make my day better. i think of you when i see green apples now and i hope you’re doing well with everything in life, you’re amazing and i want to remind you to be patient with yourself and that you’re genuinely such a funny person

@phoenix-eclipses - of course you’re also included, i mean we’re literally sitting in a vc right now watching a show together ! you have so quickly become a part of my daily routine and it feels weird on days that i don’t talk to you. you always manage to put a smile on my face and i can’t wait to go see you again, make sure to take care of yourself

@tansypansydandy - hi tansy, welcome to my very special list of people. thank you for being a moot that got me back into drawing, i don’t draw much recently mostly because my art is frustrating me but it’s comforting as we crash out with each other over oc ideas and giving up on drawing for the day. thank you for being here and for making me laugh <3

@koibitogata - you’re new here soldier! your comment on my kita fic actually made me so happy and i’m glad we continued talking outside of ao3 our conversations are all over the place and it’s so fun. stay funny and manifesting an akaashi for you

@megapteraurelia - jelly!!! we also only started talking recently but i get such warm vibes from you. idk, you’re so very sweet and i love randomly messaging you with things to make you crash out and then going down a rabbit hole for a little bit on the idea and it becoming larger than it was meant to be. take care darling!!!

@cheriisae - i know sav tagged you too but you also belong on this list. it’s been amazing being able to talk with you and you’re such a kind and amazing person, thank you for coming into my life because it truly is better with you in it <3

@ottocre - wyr!!! my love!!! you get to round up my list! i miss being able to talk with you everyday but it’s also nice in a weird way that even if we don’t talk for a while the friendship is still just as welcoming and lovely as it was when we were able to talk every day. i hope your job is going well and we’ll talk soon love! <3

once again, to reiterate, if you didn’t get tagged don’t take it personally and i still love all of my moots and i hope you’re all doing wonderfully. take care everyone and remember to drink water and get lots of rest. the most important person you should be kind to is yourself so be patient and understanding with yourself when things don’t go right immediately. you’ve got this and i hope you all accomplish the goals you set for yourself but also understand that goals can change and you shouldn’t force yourself into a box you no longer fit in, or a box at all. be yourself because it’s the most amazing thing you can be. i’ll stop yapping now; i fear i’ve yapped too much.

favirote moots?

(People you tag have to reblog and say their favorite moots)

Okay wait

@ibrokeurheartbcuzubrokemine @foliverfalls @allyeilishh @addisonraesbaby @emiliesblohsh @bilsslut @noodleswashere @bilsbabyy @bitchesbrokenpromises @billsdollie

[locustdays]

.ᐟ CREAM, NO SYRUP

synopsis: in which you try stop being friends with benefits with sukuna but it doesn't quite go to plan.

ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

cw. mdni: friends with benefits (quite cliché), oral (m!recieving), –semi-public, modern university AU, degradation kink

wc: 0.97k

a/n: aaa sorry for not posting in forever 😭 finals were kicking my ass and serving it on a platter!! and i also had 0 motivation or creativity

the café was supposed to be neutral ground. public, safe, no chance of sukuna pulling you into his orbit like the last two times you tried to end this… arrangement. you weren’t complaining about those failures, not really. sex with sukuna was never bad—it was phenomenal, earth-shattering, the kind of thing that left you boneless and questioning your life choices. but it had to stop.

somewhere along the line, over the past few months, you’d developed a teeny, tiny, catastrophic crush on him. maybe it was the way he degraded you in bed with that wicked grin, or how he’d always (without fail) draw a bath for you after unraveling you orgasm after orgasm. so, in those quiet moments, you’d catch yourself wondering if you meant something to him. but then you’d snap out of it. sukuna falling for you? the thought felt like a crime against reality.

he set the rules himself, in this very cafe actually, “don’t fall for me. seriously. If things start getting messy, we’re done. I’m not here to be tamed, fixed, or turned into some book boyfriend fantasy.” his words echoed in your head now, a stark reminder of the line you had crossed.

sukuna strolled through the café doors thirty minutes late, as expected. he dropped into the seat across from you, manspreading with one leg sprawled into the aisle, muttering, “sorry, got hung up with work.” his nonchalance was infuriating.

your heart pounded, nerves fraying despite the countless times you’d rehearsed this moment. you shoved the doubts to the back of your mind and took a breath.

“i think we should stop,” you blurted, the words spilling out faster than you meant. a weight lifted from your shoulders, but your chest still felt tight. “this… friends with benefits thing. whatever it is we’re doing.”

sukuna’s gaze locked onto yours, unreadable as always. he tilted his head slightly, one brow arching. “why?”

your throat went dry. you’d prepared for this, but his stare made your carefully crafted lie feel flimsy. “i’m… in love with someone,” you said, the half-truth bitter on your tongue. “it’d be wrong to keep this going.”

not a complete lie—you did have feelings, just not for some mystery person. you liked sukuna more than a friend, more than you should, and you knew better than to let it grow. you were choosing yourself, your sanity, over this reckless pull.

he stared at you, expression blank, but for a fleeting moment, you thought you caught a flicker of something… curiosity, maybe? no, that was wishful thinking. sukuna didn’t care. he was the kind of asshole who expected his partners to beg, to chase, never the other way around.

his cologne flooded your senses, sharp and intoxicating, as his eyes bore into you. could he see through you? the clink of coffee mugs, the obnoxious laugh from the table behind you, the hum of chatter all amplified, drowning out the chaos in your head.

“'kay,” he said finally, voice flat. “i should get going.” he stood, broad shoulders casting a shadow over the table, already half-turned to leave.

“wait!” the word slipped out before you could stop it, desperate and raw. you weren’t even sure why you’d said it. some part of you wasn’t ready for him to walk away, not like this.

he turned back, one brow raised, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. “what, changing your mind already?”

that was how you ended up here, against all odds. the cool, hard, gridded washroom tile pressed its chill into your knees. sukuna’s jeans pooled at his ankles and his thick cock heavy in your hands as you gripped him, thumb brushing over the slick tip. you looked up at him catching a glint in his gaze—not just lust, but something softer. fuck, he was getting fond of you, your fire, your mouth... and fuck, was he thankful that you chose to stay with him because he knew he was too stubborn to swallow his pride and beg for you. he was going to keep you around longer than planned.

right now, you were knew you owed him for the little fuck-up earlier and you could tell from the way he smirked down at you that he was ready to collect.

“look at you, so eager to make it up to me,” he sneered, voice low and taunting, but with a hungry edge. you leaned in, lips wrapping around him, taking him deep, the salty taste flooding your mouth as he groaned.

“fuck, that’s it, you little tease,” he growled, hand fisting in your hair, guiding your pace.

you bobbed your head, tongue swirling along his length, earning a sharp hiss as he began pushing himself back into your mouth, hips rocking slightly. the wet sounds filled the air as you sucked harder, cheeks hollowing.

sukuna’s grip tightened, his breaths turning ragged. “shit, you’re too fuckin’ good,” he muttered, voice cracking, a flicker of warmth in his tone. he liked you, more than he should, and it showed in the way his thumb grazed your cheek.

you pushed deeper, throat tightening around him, and he cursed under his breath. “fuck, i’m—” he groaned, cutting off as he came, hot and thick, pulsing over your tongue.

you swallowed every drop, pulling back with a soft pop, catching his heavy-lidded gaze. “good enough, ‘kuna?” you murmured, smirking.

sukuna chuckled, low and rough, yanking you up for a bruising kiss. “not bad, but you’re not off the hook yet. let’s hit my place, i’m keeping you for another round.”

a sharp knock echoed from the restroom door, followed by a hesitant voice. “uh, take your time, but… when you’re done, the janitor needs to clean up in there.”

he walked away, grumbling something about how he doesn’t get paid enough for this.