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voitier · 3 days ago

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HANS - In your Hands

둘 : Of caramel and coffee grounds

In a world where every single step is recorded and analysed by cameras, F1 racer Jeon Jungkook could care less about his reputation, having decided that with the amount of money he has he could buy the silence of everybody, if he wished.

Behind him, there's a girl losing her mind trying to get him to behave, knowing that her job is at risk if she doesn't cover up his mess-ups in time.

What happens when one of the most influential and world recognised racers falls head over heels for his PR manager, who absolutely despises his "I've got it all" attitude and wants nothing more than to keep doing her job in peace?

WORDCOUNT: 2k3 words

WARNING: 18+, description of semi-public sexual acts, kinda getting caught

AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay so. first of all, I owe you all my gratitude and affection towards anyone who got interested in the story, who supports me and believes in this little "project" as much as I do. second of all, I owe y'all also my apologies: this part was meant to be part 1 of chapter 2, not the whole chapter itself. however, life got in the way and unfortunately I couldn't do much work over the weekend, and I promised that I would post chapter 2 either during the weekend or monday so it was only fair that I kept my promise and posted it nevertheless.

now, to the chapter itself: this one is heavily focused on OC and Tae's dynamics, we won't see JK until the very end of it, and even then it's just a couple of minutes worth of interactions.

I'd also say that it's heavily explicit but I would be lying, just know that the whole ordeal will take place while OC and Tae are "messing" with each other. why? you may ask. because I needed to introduce to you some of the themes that will be discussed later on, and OC happens to be one of those people whose psyche heavily influences the things she enjoys when having sex, what makes her feels safe and what doesn't, what she redeems right and what not. there are hints to her past, but take them as they are now: just hints. time will unfold everything.

I hope you're not too mad that this chapter is short and JK doesn't make much of an appearance. enjoy your reading, I will wait for you in the comments/Inbox. love you all <3

“Coffee?”

“Sure”

Taehyung handed you an ice cold cup, filled to the brim with your iced coffee and topped with cream.

You smiled, stirring the straw in a couple times before taking a sip. Caramel. “How did you know?”

“You used to drink the exact same thing in college. Still disgusting, by the way.”

You scoffed, kicking your leg dipped in the cold water of the pool to splash the man. Taehyung chuckled, tossing his shirt to the side before jumping in the water beside you. He emerged from the water, pushing his slick hair back.

You lowered your eyes on your drink, doing your best to hide the way your gaze followed every single drop of water dripping on his skin, tracing every curve and crevice you spent nights trying to forget about.

"You're not jumping in?"

"I have work to do," putting the cup down, you raise your notepad kept at a much needed distance from the pool. Months and months worth of work were scribbled down on its pages, and you weren't risking losing it just because you wanted to tan in the sun by the open-roof pool of the hotel. Not even a chance.

Taehyung groaned, complaining with a whiny voice: "You can work later. C'mon, you're never relaxing. Plus, the water is really cold and nice."

Sighing, you shook your head, closing the notepad shit again. You turned around, ready to pull yourself up, muttering something about him not bribing you in, when two big hands grabbed your hips, pulling you inside the pool completely.

"Taehyung!" you gasped, body shaking with the sudden impact of the cold water hugging you whole.

"Here we go, much better," he murmured, face dangerously close to yours as he kept you trapped between his body and the pool wall. "Feels nice, doesn't it?"

"Taehyung..." you whispered, looking right over his shoulder to not encounter his eyes. You knew what intensity they held, and you knew you would cave in immediately if you dared to look at him. Your body tensed up when you felt his hand travel from your hips to your leg, silently thanking the water that hid the goosebumps rising all over. "This is not right," you whispered, probably more to yourself than him, your resolutions threatening to crumble as soon as he hit the right buttons.

"Why not?" he asked, lips hovering the nape of your neck, his breath warm against your cold skin. You could feel the ghost of his kisses resurface to life, the memories of countless nights spent together hitting you at once. "Your man was hidden in the bathroom of the garage fucking the first willing woman he found and we can't have fun like we used to in the privacy of closed walls?"

Your breath hitched at his words.

Your man. Jungkook.

With the first willing woman. Isadora.

Fucking...?

"Wait what did you say?" you suddenly asked, pushing him back just the right amount to look at him as he spoke.

He cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrow in a are you serious? manner. A little smirk pulled at his mouth, and he shook his head side by side in disbelief.

"What did you think they were doing in there, Vel? Holding hands, exchanging rings?"

You brushed away the feeling of your heart dropping at the nickname, Vel. It had been years since you last heard it, and you certainly didn't enjoy hearing it now and bringing back all the memories attached to it.

"I'm not that stupid."

"Never said you were."

"I just... I didn't think he would go all out, that's all."

"Last minute nerves, sometimes getting blown just doesn't do the job as it should." With a shrug, Taehyung swam back slightly and gave you time to digest what he had implied, observing you with critical eyes in the meantime. "Are you seriously shocked?" he asked tentatively, getting closer again. His other hand traveled to your back, pushing you gently against his stiff body.

Taehyung managed to be exactly what you needed every time you felt like you were tethering on the edge of failure: broad, stiff, firm. Secure in a way you envied. So it was no surprise when you let your body mold into his, throwing your head back with a groan that was both exhausted and terrified.

"I'm so tired of having to cover up scandals left and right before the media and journalists find out. At least in the garage I thought I could have some peace from that," you whined, finally giving in and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The smell of chlorine mixed with coffee grounds inebriated your system, momentarily distracting you from the mess you cleared up without even really knowing about it. You nuzzled your face into his neck further, drinking in his smell, letting your body and mind remember what it felt like to feel anchored and safe.

"Now you get why I'm not as worried as you are? We all have our good dose of mess-ups, here. You deserve to be human like the rest of us, Vel"

You deserve to be human like the rest of us, Vel.

Your throat constricted at his words, hands impulsively gripping his shoulders. Did you actually deserve to rest, to mess up? You weren't famous. You weren't rich either, maybe well-put is a more appropriate adjective to describe your economical status, yet you weren't one of those who could retire now and live comfortably like someone else could. That someone, of course, was none other than Jeon Jungkook, who not only could live off the amount of money his bank had stored away, but he could also buy everyone's silence in case one of his mess-ups accidentally slipped from your fingers and became public dominion.

Taehyung lips zeroed on your neck, taking his time leaving kisses behind, wanting to make you relax, first of all, and then take further steps. He made sure you were leaning on the pool wall, his gestures carrying a caringness that felt oddly familiar, yet still scary. He handled you with care and affection, his touch expressing something that almost resembled a devotional act.

He was careful and tentative the same way adults who were once musicians sit down at an old piano and slowly start to press random keys until they grow confident enough to play by heart one of their favourite compositions they learned when they were a child.

That's what Taehyung was doing – playing you, playing your body, remembering exactly which keys to press, yet being careful in case some of them got out of tune over time. He didn't push, but he didn't pull back either. He acclimated you back again to the rhythm slowly, gently lulling you back into the routine.

His kisses didn't hold the desperation they used to back when you were merely more than a teenager anymore, nor the seduction he used when you weren't totally in the mood, and he knew you could benefit from letting loose even for as little as a couple minutes.

He was measured, controlled, almost gentleman-like, if you will. His touch grew bolder, hands sliding under your legs and hooking them around his torso, pressing you further against the wall.

There, trapped between a literal wall of concrete and Taehyung's hard body, you couldn't help but feel safe, stable, grounded in a way that wasn't new to you. Years back, Taehyung had learned that you thrived off being pressed, almost trapped, between his body and a hard solid surface, whether it was the bed, the wall, or a library. What you couldn't handle though, and you two found out when you were around 21 years old, was not having something solid holding you. Safe to say, mirror sex with your hands on each side of the mirror didn't feel good at all for you, feeling way too "abandoned" to actually focus on pleasure. Taehyung was sure there was some sort of psychological explanation behind it, but it wasn't his place to ask you, so he never did.

You sighed softly, throwing your head back as Taehyung pestered your throat and collarbones in kisses, dipping your hand in his soaking wet hair. You couldn't help but let out a content hum as your body gave into his ministrations, going lax under his touch.

He was definitely right, it felt so fucking good to give yourself to someone who knew what they were doing.

"Just like that," he murmured against your skin, "we don't have to rush. We have all the time in the world."

“Tae,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck for support. Taehyung’s fingers hooked under the straps of your bra, pulling it down your shoulders to continue his attack on your flesh. One of his hands traveled further down to cup your breast over your bikini, groaning as he became hungrier for this, hungrier for you.

The sharp ringing of the elevator that opened right a few feet from the pool snatched you from the bubble of bliss Taehyung had so carefully brought you in, forcing a gasp from your lips and your nerves to jump at attention.

You turned around, panic rising as you saw a familiar silhouette with its head low on his phone appearing inch by inch as the doors opened slowly. Jungkook.

“Taehyung,” you hissed, panicking, tapping his shoulders hurriedly.

“Don’t make a sound,” was all he said before he dunked his head underwater, swimming lower and lower. You tried your best to act like nothing was happening as Jungkook got closer, his eyes lighting up as they spotted you.

“Ah, here you are!” he exclaimed, sporting one of his best grins on his lips. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past ten minutes, no wonder you weren’t picking up!”

“Jungkook,” you forced a cough right after to cover up the way your voice cracked as you called his name, trying to ignore with all your might the way Taehyung decided that it was an appropriate space and time to make his hands run up and down your legs, slowly inching them closer to your core, slowly, torturing you in the process. His fingers brushed your inner thighs, his touch so delicate that it felt like something was tickling you instead. You clamped your legs shut, immediately regretting your choice as it had given him the perfect opportunity to push his fingers further up, fingertips grazing with feather-like pressure on your bikini-covered skin.

Fuck.

“...and,” Jungkook stopped his rambling, which you hadn’t heard at all, and shut his mouth to look at you better. He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, squinting his eyes to analyse you better. “Are you alright, Y/N? You look kinda flushed.”

You hummed, nodding your head up and down quickly, internally cringing at yourself as you heard the high-pitched sound that came from your lips. “Yeah, yes! Must be the sun,” your finger pointed up at the open roof, and you took advantage of the moment Jungkook looked up to try and push Taehyung away.

The man didn’t budge.

At all.

If anything, your little "rebellion" only spurred him on, and in a matter of seconds he had slipped two fingers inside your swimsuit, slowly circling your clit and sending sparks throughout your body.

You hoped Jungkook wouldn't catch on to the way your breathing pattern grew irregular, heavier, or the way your cheeks flushed crimson red, or the trembling of your fingers. You had to find a way to get him out of there, immediately, before you lost all sense of shame and control and fucked Taehyung right in front of his eyes.

"Anyway, do you mind if I join you?"

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

"Yes! I mean– no, not like that, of course you can, it's not my pool, is it?" you chuckled nervously, kicking your legs underwater to tell Taehyung that now he really had to fucking stop messing around. "But shouldn't you go back inside and change? You don't have your swimsuit on."

Jungkook opened his mouth to talk, but immediately snapped it close. His eyes lit up for a brief second before a little smirk took over his lips, the next sentence sending you straight into cardiac arrest. "But I was thinking of swimming naked, Y/N, it would be... freeing."

"What–"

"Besides, aren't you naked too?"

That definitely froze you on the spot. And apparently, Taehyung had managed to hear something from his position, cause he had stopped, too.

"Uhm... Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

The boy's eyes traveled up and down your body – or, well, what could be seen of it – before his fingers pointed to your form, even though confusion and hesitancy was now clear.

"Aren't you...?"

You looked down to where he was pointing, gasping as only then you had realised that the straps of your bra were still down your shoulders, just like Taehyung had wanted them. From his position, not too close to the pool, it definitely looked like you were wearing nothing.

"Oh my god, no!" you exclaimed, immediately pulling them up and around your shoulders. "Here, they were down cause they slipped. Were you seriously considering getting in naked? While believing I was naked, too?"

Right as Jungkook was about to feed you one of his shitty excuses you interrupted him, shooing him away with your hands. "Go, go change, I don't wanna hear anything."

Sulking, he walked towards the elevator, totally acting like a four year old throwing a tantrum: pouting, shoulders slumped over, feet dragging on the ground, exclaiming a defensive "Oh, c'mon, it would have been a nice view!"

"Fuck off, bun," you laughed, yelling something about waiting for him to change in his swimming attire.

You didn’t catch it, but his lips turned upwards in a soft smile right as the elevator’s doors closed.

series introduction post here

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juudesgirl · 1 day ago

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The Space He Chose - Jude Bellingham (Part 1)

It had been almost four weeks since Jude ended it.

Y/N still remembered the exact moment — the way the light had faded behind him as the sun set through the Madrid skyline, the way he’d stood awkwardly in their apartment, hands in his pockets, voice low, like he was reading a pre-rehearsed script.

“I need to focus. On the game. On my career. I can’t give you the time you deserve. I don’t want to keep failing you, Y/N… I think this is the right thing.”

She hadn’t argued. Because what could she say to someone who had already made up his mind?

She’d nodded. Swallowed the lump in her throat. Packed quietly. Left the place that had once felt like home with just a suitcase and the aching echo of goodbye.

Now, back in Birmingham, Y/N walked through the city streets wrapped in her navy trench coat, scarf snug around her neck, trying to push the chill away — the one in the air and the one inside her chest.

She wasn’t meant to be out long. Just picking up a book from her favorite indie bookstore. A little corner of comfort she used to visit with Jude whenever he was home — before Madrid, before everything changed.

She was halfway to the till when she heard it.

“Y/N?”

She turned, heart immediately skipping.

Denise.

Her soft brown eyes sparkled the same way they always had. Next to her stood Mark, tall and composed as always, and Jobe, taller now but still carrying that mischief in his grin.

Y/N froze, breath caught between surprise and heartache.

Denise’s face lit up. “Oh my God! Look who it is!”

And before Y/N could even think, Denise had wrapped her in a warm, tight hug. The kind of hug that used to feel like home.

Mark smiled warmly. “What a lovely surprise. How’ve you been, love?”

Jobe grinned. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You’re back for a bit?”

Y/N offered a tight, polite smile, her fingers gripping her tote bag just a little harder.

“Just visiting some old places,” she said gently.

“Tell Jude we said hi,” Denise said cheerfully. “And please tell him to finally reply in the family group chat. We’ve been trying to get him to commit to a date for the next family dinner, and all he did was react to our message with a thumbs up emoji!”

Jobe laughed. “Seriously, when you’re with him, just grab his phone and type out a reply for him.”

Y/N’s smile faded slightly. The lump in her throat returned.

She took a breath. Now or never.

“I’m… I’m not with Jude anymore.”

Silence.

Denise’s expression faltered. Her brows lifted, a stunned softness taking over her face. Mark blinked, his hands slipping into his coat pockets. Jobe stopped fiddling with the book he was holding.

“What… what do you mean?” Denise asked softly, almost cautiously.

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. “We broke up. About a month ago.”

Jobe looked between them all, utterly confused. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

Y/N nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. It… wasn’t my choice.”

Denise’s lips parted, eyes glistening. “Oh, sweetheart… what happened?”

Y/N held their gaze for a moment, then looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to cry in this bookstore. Not again. Not in front of them.

“You’ll have to ask Jude,” she said quietly. “He… he said he needed to focus on football. That he didn’t have space for anything else. For me.”

Mark looked away for a moment, jaw tight. Denise’s hand instinctively reached for Y/N’s, squeezing it.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to you all,” Y/N said, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been such a huge part of my life these past few years. And I love you all so much. Truly.”

Her voice cracked.

“I just didn’t expect my last time seeing you to be… like this.”

Denise blinked quickly, as if pushing tears back. “You don’t have to say goodbye, you know. You’re still family to us.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, offering a sad smile. “But I think… I need to let go. Completely. And I think this is part of that.”

There was a long silence.

“I’m really glad I ran into you today,” she continued. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I hadn’t had the chance to see you. To tell you in person. And to thank you. For everything. For letting me be part of your world. For treating me like one of your own.”

Her eyes welled.

“Please take care of each other. And Jude. Even if he pushes you away a bit — just remind him he’s not alone.”

She leaned in and hugged Denise tightly. Then Mark. Then Jobe.

And then she stepped back.

“Goodbye,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

And with that, Y/N turned and walked out into the cold grey afternoon, blinking back tears, her heart breaking quietly all over again.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fics #jude bellingam fanfic #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham one shot #real madrid #jb5 #jb22

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ginandvodka-writes · 2 days ago

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Seeing him again was something that you thought impossible. Seventeen years had passed since the last time you’d saw him, when you both were eighteen. And even so, just by seeing those beautiful chocolate eyes your heart raced uncontrollably.

He was taller, which was saying a lot considering that back in 10th grade he was taller than most of the school staff, including professors. Also, he was now burly as a truck, a brute of a man, quiet and reserved like back then. And even with the chirurgical mask and those scars decorating his face, you could recognize him wherever you were, just as he could recognize you too.

“Yer still that same wee star I knew.” Back then you were friends, not the closest ones, but were in the same groupie. You were like day and night, while you were sparkling as he used to call you, he was quiet and almost aloof, a mysterious boy who barely spoke. But despite the differences, you get along pretty well, he enjoyed your company and liked to spend recess with you.

Until the day you took different paths, he enlisted in the army, and you continued your studies as a programming engineer. Since then, you never heard from him again. However, that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, after all you used to be in love with him, he was your first love, the first man that made your heart pumping so hard you swore it’d break your ribs, that made you daydream about him and a hundreds of future possibilities.

Maybe things were different now, you weren’t teens anymore, you’d experienced many things over time that made you become who you are now. But it still felt nice, as if those years hadn’t passed, the other’s company was warm and fit perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.

Months passed, now that you were part of the team as their personal computer scientist, Simon and you spent time together, catching up and getting to know each other once again. Not only in base, but also outside of work. And that’s how you discovered that he liked a Lieutenant from the base, beautiful and strong, the ideal woman for him.

Regardless of the weird discomfort in your chest, wholeheartedly you offered to help him get closer to her. Day after day you gave him advice, and even you began to befriend with the woman, thus bringing them closer.

However, those feelings that you had for him in your youth were reborn, and this time they were stronger. Your heart craved for him, a simple touch of his hands felt like electricity running through your veins, and every night you slept hugging your clothes that were impregnated with his scent, dreaming that he was there with you, loving you like you loved him.

How funny, back then you never confessed your feelings because you were afraid of his rejection, and the only time that you encouraged yourself, you found out that he liked another girl, so you kept your feelings a secret. Now, years later you were in the exact same situation, loving a man that loved someone else.

At first you decided to keep your feelings to yourself like you did back then. However, you weren’t the same innocent girl, you’d matured over time, experimented love and its disappointments, why remain silent again? After all, he wasn’t yours, so you had nothing to lose, and at least this time you wouldn’t be left with the feeling of “what if?”

That’s how you were there with him in a cozy park at midnight, after spending your free day together.

“I love you, Simon.” Amid the comfortable silence, you finally were honest with him and yourself. “I did it since 10th grade, and now that I see you again, that love that I felt has been reborn even stronger.” You looked at him tenderly, smiling sadly. “But I know that you don’t feel the same, and I don’t ask anything more than just remain friends. I just wanted to be honest this once.”

Silence. A heavy silence that could be cut with bare fingers. Your heart pumping violently, echoing inside your skull, while he stayed quiet, dead still as a statue. The ache in your chest got stronger and after what felt like an eternity, when you decided to speak, he stood up and walked away without a word or looking behind, disappearing into the night.

He just left, leaving you alone with your heart broken and a silent but clear response.

He didn’t love you, doesn’t do and never will.

Part 2

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod fanfic #call of duty Ghost #call of duty fanfic #ghost fanfic #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod

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megalony · 2 days ago

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Special Victim- Part 3

Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback on this Elliot Stabler series, I hope you will all like this next part.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars @shypy92 @nikfigueiredo @sabsthedoll @rach2602 @itshamleth @ladespedidas @devilslittlehelper @buckslifeline

@elizaelaine @1dluvr12 @hoodiepandaninja16 @chillipeppersstuf @crabbygabby

Main Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While Elliot is at work over the weekend, (Y/n) takes the kids out for a while. But things take a turn for the worst when their youngest girl goes missing.

Enjoy.

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

"You should try and drink something."

(Y/n) lifted her head when a can of pop was held out in front of her and she looked over to see Olivia stood in front of her.

She had her hips pressed back into the desk with one leg crossed over the other and an arm braced across her chest. But there was a calming smile on Olivia's face that did something to ease the tension overpowering (Y/n)'s system. That smile stopped her chest from quaking so much and eased one of the thousands of nerves knotted up in her stomach.

(Y/n) didn't want to take the drink, but she didn't want to be rude either and decline it. She wasn't thirsty. She wasn't hungry or peckish or tired; she was blank.

Having a drink was the last thing on (Y/n)'s mind, despite not having anything since before she left the house with the kids this morning. She wasn't sure she could stomach anything, her body was in so many knots that (Y/n) thought trying to digest something would just make her sick. But she didn't know how much longer her mind and body could continue if she didn't have anything, and clearly, Olivia thought the same.

She tried to nod her head in thanks and took the drink which she placed down on the desk. Maybe if she stared at it for long enough, she would guilt-trip herself into having some and try to make herself feel a bit better.

"Do you think Rosie's had anything yet?"

Olivia could feel her chest tightening like she was being forced into a corset with the strings being pulled an inch tighter every second. She hated how congested and wrought her system felt because she knew she didn't have the right answers and speculating might not help the situation.

Her nails dug into her upper arm through her jacket as she looked across at (Y/n) who was slumped in Elliot's desk chair at the moment.

(Y/n) looked drained. Her eyes were bleak and clearly finding it hard to focus. She was constantly rubbing and picking at her lower lip that had bled more than once this afternoon and she was biting through each of her nails in turn. Sitting there slouched down with her feet vibrating and tapping against the floor, (Y/n) almost looked like she needed to be in a hospital.

Whereas they both knew that Elliot looked the exact opposite right now. He had found some energy reserves from somewhere and was bouncing off the walls, moving from one desk to the next, to the board in the middle of the room and grabbing the phones when they thought it might be a credible tip coming in. His sleeves were scrunched up past his elbows, hands constantly grabbing his hips or scratching the back of his neck and his eyes were manic, constantly scouring around the room.

Elliot couldn't sit still or stay in one place whereas (Y/n) was finding it hard to keep breathing, let alone move around the precinct.

She tilted her head back so she could look over at Olivia, trying to gage her expression to see whether she thought Rosie had good odds or not.

Had this lady given Rosie a drink since she snatched her? Had she given her a snack or fed her? Was she currently hurting her to try and take her away and keep her quiet? Or had she already done something monstrous to the little girl?

Was Rosie currently being dumped somewhere that would take them hours to find her?

Maybe she wasn't even alive anymore.

"It's hard to say. Some people feed them and treat them like their own kids, we don't know why this lady took Rosie. She might be some kind of grieving mother."

That was what they were hoping for. They were praying that this woman was some kind of mother or at least had those maternal instincts, that she thought Rosie was a sweet little girl or resembled a daughter or sister this woman might have had once. They wanted this woman to treat Rosie like her own child because then, maybe, Rosie wouldn't get hurt.

This woman could have taken Rosie home and given her food and drink, she could have tried to take her for a drive or to the park or be reading her a story right now.

They had no idea what was happening or why she had taken Rosie, and without knowing who this woman was, they had no insight as to why she took Rosie or if she was liable to hurt her or not.

They were left completely in the dark, searching for answers they needed sooner rather than later.

Angling her head to one side, (Y/n) brought her hand up to run across her feverish temple that was throbbing like she was being constantly thwarted with a hammer.

"Do these perps usually hurt the kids they take?" (Y/n) wanted to know. She knew thatt Olivia and the rest of the team didn't want to tell her.

She knew they never liked to discuss these things with parents of victims because it would either give them false hope or a sense of dread and trepadition. But (Y/n) was different. She was married to Elliot, she knew how this job got to people and what he saw and the kind of people he dealt with. She knew more than an average parent and she wanted to know if she had to prepare herself for Rosie being injured or potentially harmed.

Olivia sighed and rung her hands together in her lap before she answered. "Usually, the women perps are less likely to harm kids in this situation unless they feel threatened or its for revenge. But you don't know this woman, that's a good sign."

Olivia wasn't saying that women never killed, because that just wasn't true, but if it had been a man who had taken Rosie then everyone would have been on red alert. Usually in these cases, the women took the child because of their own trauma and they were trying to fill that void. And she was more likely to hurt Rosie if it was for revenge, which was unlikely as neither Elliot nor (Y/n) knew this woman.

"Tell me why you think she took her. Honestly."

Having everyone tiptoe around her was getting tiresome. (Y/n) wanted an honest opinion and evaluation. She wanted Olivia to talk to her and tell her what she thought, rather than what (Y/n) wanted to hear. Elliot wouldn't tell her because he had seen what could happen, and he didn't want to think about one of his children ending up in that kind of outcome. But (Y/n) wanted to know her chances.

She wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not when Olivia leant forward to take her hand, and she found herself trembling all over again.

"To me, I think she wants or misses a child, and Rosie was an opportunity. And once we find out who she is, we can work out what she's trying to do."

(Y/n) found herself nodding along, and she tried to force herself to smile as she squeeze Olivia's hand. And she forced herself to sit up straight in a vain attempt to liven herself up. (Y/n) wanted to do something to help, whether that was talking to an officer again or helping with the tip lines or just going out on the streets to look for Rosie. But sitting here doing nothing was draining (Y/n) more than anything else would.

But her hand suddenly clenched around Olivia's to the point she was cutting off circulation to her fingers and her tired eyes went round with what Olivia guessed was panic when she looked towards the precinct doors ahead of them.

Olivia quickly spun to look over her shoulder and she felt shivers scratching down her back when she saw who walked in.

Kathy. She looked somewhat out of place and unsettled, with her hand tightly clenched around the bag on her shoulder and her eyes constantly scanning from left to right.

"Kathy…" Olivia wasn't sure why she was so shocked that Kathy would be here. One of the kids had probably called her to let her know what was happening, and of course she wouldn't want the kids to think they had to stay here at the station if they didn't want to.

But all four of them had begged to come back to the station, they wanted to be here in case any new developments happened or in case they could somehow help with the search for their baby sister.

Olivia pushed up from where she was resting against the desk, but Kathy was already advancing towards them both.

(Y/n) could feel her anxiety multiplying when she set her sights on Kathy. Being around her had never been comfortable or easy, especially in the beginning when Kathy kept saying and sometimes referring to (Y/n) as her 'replacement'.

And when she had been pregnant with Rosie, seeing Kathy had never been a walk in the park. It took Elliot quite a few tries of talking to his ex for her to finally come to terms with the fact that he was happy with someone else, and with the kids accepting (Y/n) as part of their family, Kathy didn't really have a choice.

They were ammicable and civil whenever they dropped or picked the kids up and when they had to see one another for family occasions. But right now, (Y/n) didn't know what to do or what to say.

Was Kathy going to be upset? Would she turn this against (Y/n) and say that she was clearly a bad mother? Would she imply that any of her kids could have been snatched today and therefore weren't safe when they were out with (Y/n)?

All sorts of worries and dramatic arguments flooded (Y/n)'s mind until she was dizzy and close to slouching back in her chair again. But she wasn't expecting the words that came out of Kathy's mouth.

"Are you alright?"

She looked so concerned, so worried and frightened as she came to stand near Elliot's desk.

Her dark bluey-grey eyes were narrowed in on (Y/n), but they weren't full of malice or annoyance like (Y/n) expected. Her eyes were drowning in concern. She kept rolling her lips and biting them like she was physically holding back a mountain of words she wanted to express. And somehow, she looked ready to hug (Y/n) if the occasion called for it.

There weren't the right words for (Y/n) to answer that. Her baby was out there somewhere with a stranger that may or may not resort to hurting her. They didn't seem any closer to finding Rosie or even finding the name of the woman that had taken her. (Y/n) wasn't alright, but she wasn't falling to pieces yet; she was somehow holding her fragile self together.

So she settled for trying to nod and give some kind of acknowledgement so Kathy knew she wasn't being ignorant or unkind.

"Kathleen rang me, and I- I saw the news. Do you know anything yet?"

"A woman walked out the shopping centre with her, we're trying to use store cameras to pinpoint where they were heading."

Kathy nodded at Olivia, but she didn't seem sure whether to accept that as relieving or worrying.

"The girls are upstairs, and Dickie's helping Elliot on the phonelines." Olivia motioned towards the corner of the room near Munch's desk where Elliot was hovering, one phone pressed to his ear and a pencil tapping madly against his hip. And he had Dickie sat in front of him, trying to listen in on each tip that was coming through the phone lines.

All while Dickie had Rosie's shoe on the desk in front of him, almost as if he was using it as a mascott or a momento to keep himself going and prevent a breakdown. Or like he was reminding everyone at the table why they were all here, doing this.

Elliot briefly glanced to the left when he heard his name, but the shock was clearly written across his features where his jaw hung down when he realised his ex was here.

He hadn't called her, but then again, one of his kids must have. It seemed appropriate. Despite the kids wanting to be here at the station, if they didn't find Rosie soon they couldn't keep all four kids here. This wasn't the right place for them to wait for news, especially if the news they received was bad. They would have to go home at some point, and Elliot and (Y/n) couldn't go back home until they found Rosie. No matter where she was or what condition she was in.

The phone in Elliot's hand was tossed back down on the receiver and he clamped his hand down on his son's shoulder, briefly motioning in the other direction to show him who had turned up.

The pair of them headed towards Elliot's desk and once they got there, Dickie hopped up to sit on the edge of the desk. His hands clamped down on the sharp edge that cut into his palms and gave him a blistering feeling which kept him concentrated and prevented him from giving in to the panic that made him want to burst into another fit of tears.

He looked between all three parents, trying to gage their reactions, but this was one of the few times where none of them seemed annoyed or uncomfortable around each other. They were on the same page.

Elliot's hands found (Y/n)'s shoulders as he stood behind her and he bent down to peck the top of her head before he looked across at his ex. Kathy was trying her best to smile and put on a brave face, and she briefly glanced towards their son before looking back at the couple.

"I can take the kids home, I know they're supposed to stay the weekend with you, but you both need to be here-"

"I wanna stay, I- I wanna find Rosie." Panic rose in Dickie's voice as he glanced to Olivia stood beside him as if silently begging for her to agree and chip in on his side. He didn't want to go home. What good would that do?

Whether they were here or at home, they would all be frantic and panicking about Rosie. They might as well stay here where they would be the first to hear new information and stay updated on the situation as it evolved.

A silent look passed between them all while (Y/n) looked down and waved her hand. This wasn't her decision, it was between Elliot and Kathy whether the kids stayed or left.

It was Elliot who relented, mostly because he knew going home would drive them all out of their minds. "Just for a bit longer, then you go home with your mum."

When Dickie nodded, Kathy advanced towards him and reeled him in for a hug before she stepped to one side and rested her hand on Elliot's shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze.

While Olivia drifted from the desk and Dickie leaned into his mum's side, (Y/n) tilted her head back until she could lean her cheek against Elliot's bicep. She closed her eyes, trying her best not to picture her daughter each time her eyes shut, and she reached her hand up to grip Elliot's wrist.

"We'll find her."

(Y/n) nodded, but she didn't dare open her eyes because she knew they would give away the fright those words caused. She knew they would find Rosie, she just prayed they wouldn't find her too late.

"Wanna help go through security tapes?" Elliot knew what the answer would be and he managed a small smile when (Y/n) nodded and finally opened her eyes to look up at him. And he felt his heart calming down just a little when (Y/n) kissed the inside of his wrist before she pushed forward to get up.

They hadn't had much luck so far with finding Rosie and this mystery woman on the tapes. But they were canvassing and collecting any CCTV from nearby shops and on any roads they guessed this lady might have taken since the last place they saw her.

(Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair and tried to liven herself up. She wouldn't be very much use looking through tapes if she felt like this, she had to at least keep her eyes open and peeled ready to scour through grainy tapes.

She moved to follow Elliot when he rounded the desk and aimed across the vast room, but her attention was drawn over to the doorway to the SVU squad room.

Finn and Olivia were talking, and whatever they were discussing, neither of them seemed happy.

She couldn't help herself, (Y/n) just had to edge closer. After all, they might be talking about Rosie and whether it was good or bad news, (Y/n) had to know.

Her hands felt like they were turning numb at her sides and her fingertips were as cold as ice and it was spreading up her arms and towards her chest which was shaking with each step she took towards them.

It was as if every other sound in the squad room faded out and their voices were the only ones that (Y/n) could hear or focus on.

"How reliable is the tip?"

Finn shrugged, his expression as grave as Olivia had ever seen. "Cap said it's legit, there's already patrol on scene."

"Okay, how sure are they that it's her?"

"Right age, hair, skin colour, found in the scope area…"

It was as if the world stopped turning and time was broken when (Y/n) finally understood why their expressions were so gaunt and their complexions were pale; and she realised why Olivia was holding back tears.

"Y- you found a body."

(Y/n)'s voice broke when Olivia spun round on her heels, jaw gaping and eyes as hollow as an empty casket. She didn't think the couple were within earshot. This wasn't something they wanted either (Y/n) or Elliot to hear.

A body had been found. A dead one. They needed to go and confirm whether it was indeed Rosie or if it was some other parent's worst nightmare coming to life.

Was it her baby? Was it Rosie, out there somewhere, all alone and frail and left without a second thought? Where had she been left? Had she been covered? Was she cold? Was she somewhere dingy and dark- she was afraid of the dark. What had that woman done to her? Where had she left their little girl?

Elliot couldn't breathe. He was halfway towards the rookie sitting at a desk with a pile of security tapes at his side when Elliot heard (Y/n)'s frail outburst. Tears were already stinging his eyes and blotching his face red, despite how pale and deathly he looked from today's events.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he turned on his heels, storming towards his team. But out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his son.

Dickie's face had gone the colour of a strawberry and deep rasping breaths were leaving his lips as tears began to flush down his face. He was shaking his head, whispering a rendition of 'it's not her' while he collapsed into Kathy's arms. Allowing her to cradle him close as if he were five years old again while she kissed his temple and hushed him, agreeing that it couldn't be Rosie. For what else could she say or do to console him?

Kathy's stricken eyes locked on Elliot before she kept looking back towards (Y/n). Someone had to help her. Someone had to comfort her and hold onto her before she too went into a desolate state of panic or tried to bolt from the station.

Elliot couldn't feel his legs moving, he felt like he was floating. His body was moving without his command and he stormed past the desks in his way until he was standing in front of Olivia and Finn with (Y/n) stood to one side, seemingly in a trance.

"Is it her? Is it Rosie?" Neither of them wanted to answer him, and Olivia gasped when Elliot's hands seized her arms and he shook her to gain her attention. "Liv! Is it Rosie?"

"We don't know," Olivia tried her best to steady her voice and hold her emotions at bay while she reached up to seize Elliot's wrists. "I'll go find out, but I doubt it's her."

"I'm going-"

"That's not a good idea." Finn shook his head, looking as heartbroken as Elliot had ever seen.

It wouldn't be wise for either of them to go down because if it was Rosie, seeing her wherever she was would be an image they would never forget. And if it wasn't, they would be traumatising themselves with the image of an unknown dead child, something they didn't need right now.

"No. If it- if it's her I don't want strangers leering over her-" Elliot's eyes snapped closed and he wavered in Olivia's arms when he heard (Y/n)'s cries.

He didn't want to speak his thoughts in front of his wife and upset her any further, but he didn't know what else to do. If it was Rosie out there in the cold, in some alley or hidden corner, Elliot needed to go to her. He needed to see her and take her and bring her back. He didn't want strangers moving her or leering down at her.

Shallow breaths left Finn's lips as he bypassed Elliot and cautiously reached out for (Y/n), unsure if she would be okay with him trying to comfort her or not. But she seemed to need someone to hold her broken pieces together. Her hands were cupping her ears to block out their voices and her eyes were snapped closed with her head angled down towards the floor.

"El… Elliot, look at me." Olivia did her best to smile and put on a brave face when Elliot's watering eyes finally looked down at her. "I'm going to the scene, I'll identify that it's not her and I'll come straight back and let you know. I promise."

There was no room for debate and before Elliot could put up a fight and ask where the scene was or try and make a break for it, both Kathy and Captain Cragen were reaching out for him and pulling him back. And when he felt his son's hands latching onto his arm, he knew he couldn't run after Olivia who was already jogging out the squad room.

Olivia knew Rosie, she was her Godmother. She would go and make sure that it wasn't that sweet little girl who had been found. She would reassure them all and come straight back so they could continue looking for Rosie.

It wasn't her. It couldn't be her.

***

He couldn't breathe. Each breath Elliot tried to take got harder and harder until he was gasping and wheezing little puffs of air that were barely enough to sustain him.

It made him feel drunk. It made him feel like he was sinking in quick sand that was almost over his head. And he didn't know how he was going to drag himself out if it consumed him fully because at least drowning for air like this meant his mind wasn't working on overdrive with a million horrid possibilities.

His eyes closed for what felt like the millionth time and his head tilted down until his lips were smothering the back of Lizzie's head.

She was sat beside him, tucked under his arm like she was a little child again seeking comfort and reassurance.

Dickie and Kathleen were sat together at Elliot's desk, no words passing between them but every now and then they would lean into one another or share a look. And Maureen was sat with her mum, dried tears stained into her pasty features and apologies constantly floating from her lips because she felt partially responsible.

If she only kept hold of Rosie's hand, this might not have happened. If she didn't let her play hide and seek in the clothes aisles, if she didn't let her little sister out of her sights for one second. If that woman hadn't been in that shop at that precise time. If none of them went upstairs to look around.

If they had all carried their bags rather than dumping them in the pushchair, Rosie would have been strapped in and this would never have happened.

There were so many what ifs about this whole situation and it was turning their world upside down. A minute or two was all that Rosie had been out of their sights, and that was all it took for someone to seize the moment and snatch her and cause such mayhem.

And why? Why take her? Did this person want to hurt Rosie? Did she want to take her and keep her as her own daughter? Did she want to inflict torment on their family? Or had she taken Rosie specifically to harm her?

Maybe that body that had been found was Rosie, and this had all been some sick psycho's game to harm someone, and Rosie had been a victim of chance.

It felt like they had all been sat around waiting for hours, days, weeks even, as they waited for Olivia to come back with news.

No one knew what to do, and none of the officers in the station knew how to act around them. Finn was sat with (Y/n), but neither of them were speaking. He didn't know what to say to try and somehow help or calm her down, it seemed that his presence was enough for now since (Y/n) hadn't said one word since Olivia left.

Munch was combing through security tapes, plotting out the movements of Rosie and this woman while tips were still coming in on the phone lines. Although most of them were misleading or simply untrue.

Despite the hustle and bustle of incoming calls, people fluttering about asking what to do and giving information left right and centre, the family felt like they were trapped in silence. They were all sat close together in their own little bubble. And for the first time since arriving back to the station, Elliot sat silently with his family, becoming motionless and void.

That was, until Olivia came back into the squad room.

No one knew how long she was going to be, they were all left in the dark, waiting to see how long it took for her to reach the scene, wherever that may be. And how long it would take for her to identify whether it was her Goddaughter or not and then either go along to the morgue or come straight back here. They had no concept of time or how long Olivia would be, therefore they didn't know if this was going to be good or bad news that she brought along with her.

She looked out of breath, like she had ran up here from her car and her hands were twitching and flexing at her sides like a coping mechanism to keep herself calm and settled.

Her eyes roamed around the room, seeing (Y/n), Kathy and all the kids sat close together, clearly waiting for her to come back.

But it was Elliot who jumped to his feet first. His arms untangled from Lizzie and he found a reserve of energy he didn't know he had which allowed him to rush across the room until he was standing in front of his partner.

He debated reaching out for Olivia but settled on resting his hands on his hips where he could pinch his skin if necessary to try and keep himself calm and under control.

"Was- was it-"

"Was she-"

Voices came at Olivia from all angles, needing answers as swiftly as she could give them.

She looked around the family, seeing a mixture of panicked faces staring back at her. Each of the kids had clearly been crying, Dickie and Maureen still looked distraught with wobbling lips and blown pupils and tears soaking into their features.

But it was Elliot's watering eyes that set Olivia off guard. She had seen him cry before, when he and Kathy broke up. When they couldn't save someone on a case. When a child had been sking for help in a tough situation or seeing one of their victims pass away too soon. This was different. These were tears of a broken heart and it had never felt so hard for Olivia to look up at Elliot before.

Her hands reached out for his upper arms as if ensuring he wasn't about to collapse when she told him her news.

"It wasn't Rosie. I swear on my life, it wasn't her. She's still out there, alive."

She wasn't sure what kind of reaction she had been expecting, but having Elliot's arms binding around her middle and his tears soaking into her neck wasn't what she anticipated.

Nevertheless she wrapped her arms around him and began gliding her hand up and down his back, giving what little comfort she could in this moment.

It hadn't been Rosie. Olivia had been in tears before she pulled up on the scene, but when they showed her that little girl, she burst into tears as she shook her head wildly. It wasn't Rosie. She didn't know who that little girl was or what family she belonged to, and Olivia felt an enormous wave of guilt rising in her chest at how relieved she was.

She was happily inflicting agony upon some unsuspecting family who would receive news that no one should ever hear. But she was glad Elliot and (Y/n) didn't have to hear such news.

Their little girl was still out there somewhere. She still needed them to find her, and more importantly, she was alive. Or in the very least, they could assume the best and hope that she was still alive and hadn't been hurt in any way.

For the first time in hours, a trace of a smile hinted across (Y/n)'s lips and she squeezed Finn's hand when she heard him murmur "What did I tell you?"

It hadn't been Rosie, but they weren't much closer to finding her.

***

Leaning to the right, (Y/n) laid her cheek on Elliot's bicep and curled her hand around his elbow while she stared at the board in front of them.

There was a map pinned up to the board with little dots stuck all over it. There was a red dot over the shopping centre where Rosie had been snatched. Another three dots around that where she had definitely been sighted on security cameras or by witnesses in nearby shops.

Three yellow dots signified possible sightings that they hadn't yet confirmed, and the dark blue sticker dots implied places they thought this woman might go to.

They had a name. TARU had cleared up a picture of the woman from a security camera and found a match in the database. They knew her name and home address, although when a team went to her house it had been empty. But at least they were a little bit closer to knowing about this woman and guessing why she had taken Rosie.

For a little while now, Elliot had been staring at the map, trying to guess where this woman was going and what she was doing. He couldn't find anything or come up with any possible answers, but he didn't know what else to do.

He felt (Y/n) leaning into his side and holding onto him and it made a soft look crease at his features. He turned to peck the top of her head and he reached his hand down to squeeze her wrist.

It was getting late. After the false alarm, Kathy had managed to convince the kids to go home with her. Elliot promised to ring them if he had any news whatsoever and that they could come back as soon as they found Rosie or got some credible information. But he and (Y/n) couldn't leave. They needed to be here for any sort of developments.

"She'll be tired by now… and hungry." (Y/n) knew talking like this wqasn't exactly going to help, but all these thoughts were going round and around in her mind and she didn't know what to do to get rid of them.

She felt Elliot tighten his grip on her wrist while he shifted to press his lip to her temple rather than the top of her head. She was sure she felt him sighing against her skin, but he didn't pull away or tell her not to go down this road.

They just wanted her back. It had been hours now.

"Someone will spot her. This woman hasn't taken her home yet and Rosie's plastered all across the news. We'll find her soon."

If she tried to take Rosie to a hotel or a fast food place or even to a corner shop, the chances were that someone would recognise Rosie from the news and tell the police. And this woman hadn't been back to her home yet, she might go there eventually lest she wanted to spend the night on the street or in a car with a screaming child who would be begging to go back home to her parents by now.

A comfortable silence enveloped the pair of them as they stared at the map and listened to the bustling sounds around them.

It felt like they were drifting apart from the rest of the world, right until Munch's voice broke through the air, louder than all the rest.

"Possible sighting!"

Those two words were enough to spark hope and adrenaline straight to (Y/n)'s heart. Her nails dug into Elliot's elbow as the pair of them spun on their heels to try and spot John in the bustling squad room.

The couple hurried towards him, as did Olivia and Cragen as if John had just announced that he had found the last golden ticket or had the winning lottery numbers; and everyone wanted them. They crowded round his desk, eyes wide and eager to know what tip he had just heard on the phone.

"Where?"

"Are we sure it's them?"

"Is she okay?"

John held out his hand, waving at them all to signal for them to stop bombarding him with questions. He would answer them. "A woman matching Marlene's description was seen dragging a little girl towards a car. Number plate matches what we have on file."

"Is it Rosie?" Elliot had to be sure. After their scare earlier in the afternoon, he wanted- no, needed to be sure that this was real. That his youngest was indeed alright and alive and fighting. He needed to know if this was a real tip that he could go to and find his girl once and for all.

"Witness said the girl wasn't wearing shoes, we didn't release that to the press. They're on the corner of fifty-ninth street."

They had released a recent photo of Rosie and a description of what she was wearing, but they hadn't told the press that she had lost her shoe at the shopping centre. So a little girl matching her description, without shoes, was a very close match to Rosie and less likely to be someone trying to cause trouble or wanting a reward for a bogus tip.

"Let's go." Elliot was already turning away from the rest of them and looking for the nearest exit before he realised Cragen was moving to stand in front of him to gain his attention.

"Elliot-"

"Cap, I have to go. I have to get her back."

He knew that Cragen had been lenient already by allowing Elliot and (Y/n) to be here in the squad room helping out and hearing all the possible leads and new information. They didn't usually have parents this close to the case trying to get involved, but then again, the parents weren't usually one of the team.

But Elliot couldn't be held at bay now. He couldn't be remanded here to the station while they went out and possibly found Rosie. If this was a reliable tip and they found her, then her parents needed to be there. They would need to be with her sooner or later when she was found, and waiting wasn't going to help anyone.

He could see the debate happening behind Cragen's eyes before he nodded and a sigh slipped past his lips.

"You stay with Olivia, let her take the lead. Finn take (Y/n) but stay behind the lines."

Elliot was a detective, he knew the rules and if he stayed with Olivia she could make sure he didn't step out of line or get too involved trying to get his daughter back. This still had to be played by the rules. (Y/n), however, wasn't one of them. She didn't know the rules or the standards and she was a civilian, they had to look out for her. She would have to hang back and watch from the sidelines until they got Rosie safe and sound. Her being allowed down to the scene was lenient enough.

"Everybody move!"

The whole car ride felt like a timer was set on them, and Elliot was the bomb that was ready to explode.

His feet tapped and jittered against the floor, his clenched hand was constantly tapping on the door and his other hand was pressed against his mouth like he was trying so hard to keep himself quiet. He didn't know what to do with himself.

What if it wasn't Rosie? What if they didn't get there in time? What if this Marlene managed to take Rosie away or find a different vehicle and escape with her? They would be chasing them throughout the night, possibly for days.

He wanted his baby girl back.

None of his kids had ever been taken like this before or gone missing. There had been one or two close calls, but nothing on this scale. Elliot had always sympathised with parents in this position, he tried to imagine what they were going through and help them as much as he could. But now he truly felt the fear that felt like a hand squeezing their heart. He experienced that constant stream of adrenaline and those horrid sailor's knots in the stomach that tangled up the more he tried to calm down.

And none of it was going to disappear until he had Rosie back safe and sound in his arms.

The closer they got to the scene, the more unsettled and sick Elliot started to feel and he knew Olivia felt the same nerves because she kept tapping her nails against the steering wheel and looking over in his direction.

All of a sudden, Elliot perked up in his seat and sat forward, one hand resting on the dashboard while the other started pointing.

"There! There, it's her car she's on the move. Go!"

She had managed to get into her car. From what the officers had said who were arriving on scene, Marlene was struggling to get Rosie into her car and it was causing a scene, just what they needed to find her. But if she was driving off that meant she had either dumped Rosie in favour of trying to get away, or she managed to get the toddler in the car with her and was on the run.

Either way, they had to catch her.

"Finn, they're going down tenth-ave, cut them off. We're in pursuit." Olivia spoke into her radio while Elliot switched on the sirens and clung tight to the door handle when she spun the car in the opposite direction.

Elliot knew (Y/n) would find it hard to stay in the car once they cornered Marlene and tried to get her out of her car. (Y/n) would want to be out with them, trying to get Rosie back. She wouldn't want to just sit and wait to be told when she could come over and when it was safe, but she would have to wait.

At least he could get out. He wasn't benched or stuck on the sidelines, he could go and get their girl back.

The feeling of his gun strapped to his right hip was weighing heavy on Elliot's side and it was starting to burn a hole in his skin. He didn't want to brandish his gun if Rosie was within sight. He didn't want anyone risking shooting his daughter by mistake or frightening her, but he didn't want this woman getting away with her either.

His shoulder rammed into the door when Olivia skidded the car to the right, the brakes squealing to a stop as they blocked off the end of the road. And once their target was in the middle of the road, there was nowhere to go. Especially when Finn's car blocked the other end of the avenue.

"NYPD, turn off the engine and step out the car slowly." Olivia hurried out the car and approached the vehicle in question with her gun held low in her hand, pointed down towards the floor as a precaution.

Elliot's eyes zoomed in on the car as he stepped out, his hand hovering over his holster, ready to take aim if the woman tried to make a break for it or tried throwing anything at them. They had no idea whether she was going to be violent or not. They didn't know if she had or was willing to hurt Rosie or attack them to try and make her escape if she even thought that she could get out of this situation.

The woman climbed out.

She looked to be mid to late thirties. She had shoulder-length black hair and a fringe that almost reached her eyes that were rabid like a wild animal caught in a snare. But when she reached down and grabbed the hand of a little girl who scurried out the car, Elliot felt like he couldn't breathe.

A purple dress with flowers. Plain white tights that were now ripped and black around the knees. No shoes on her little feet that were scuffing against the floor with holes in the ends around her toes and dirt and mud clinging to he tights.

Those big doe eyes made Elliot see red. His baby girl. That was his daughter, and this woman had tried to take her away from him.

He took one step forward with his right hand still hovering over his holster and his left hand held out in front of him to try and keep Marlene from doing anything stupid. But his shoes scuffed against the road and he stopped in his tracks when he watched her move.

She locked one arm around Rosie's waist, hoisting the writhing and screaming child up against her chest. But her other hand was holding something near Rosie's neck, and from the look of things, Elliot took an educated guess that it was a knife or some kind of weapon.

He couldn't risk her hurting Rosie.

He glanced across at Olivia, but she was already tucking her gun back into her waistband. "Marlene, we're here to talk. Why don't you put Rosie down?"

A feeble whisper of "Auntie Liv?" hushed past Rosie's lips and her timid eyes tried to crane to the side to see where Olivia was as she recognised that familiar voice.

It was clear that Marlene wasn't happy about being known and recognised, and she seemed even more disgruntled at the fact that Rosie knew the cops who were trying to get her back. Her arm tightened around Rosie who started to wriggle and whimper.

"It's me sweetie, are you okay?" Olivia tried to smile but she could barely hear her own voice over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. Seeing Rosie wriggling and talking and mostly unharmed was like a dream that felt too good to be true. After searching all day and having a brief worry that she might be dead, seeing Rosie now was sending Olivia into a delirious state.

"Rosie, baby are you okay?" Elliot breathed harshly through his words when his girl didn't respond to Olivia.

He loved the spark of hope he saw ignite in her eyes when she saw him stood just over a hundred yards away from her. He saw those watering eyes brighten up and her little red lips parted into a mewl as she began to wriggle.

"Daddy!"

A smile pulled at Elliot's lips and he flashed his teeth as he nodded, barely able to contain himself at seeing his girl alive and well. "It's me baby, we're here now."

When Marlene took a cautious step back, Elliot's smile faltered and he held himself back from trying to move. He knew it would only push Marlene to keep retreating and he didn't know if she was liable to hurt Rosie in such a panicked state. She was getting caged in and she didn't know what to do.

"Marlene, why don't you put her down? We want to talk." Elliot could barely remember what he was supposed to do in this situation when the paternal instinct within him was telling him to bolt over there and snatch his child back to safety.

"No… no, just g-go away."

"We can't do that, we're here to help you and Rosie." Olivia tried her luck stepping closer but Marlene was still trying to step away, all with Rosie wriggling and fighting in her arms.

She wanted to be put down. She wanted to go back to her dad. Rosie wanted to go home. One minute she was shopping with her mum and all her big siblings, and the next some lady was taking her hand and telling her they were leaving. She had been crying all day, desperate to go back home but she kept being told that her family weren't coming for her.

But her dad was here now. He was here with her auntie Liv, they were here to take her home. That was what Rosie wanted. To be taken back home and to be with her family, not this strange, frightening lady.

"She's mine now, she's my little girl. So- so you're going to let us leave."

Her arms adjusted to hitch Rosie higher against her chest and her hand hovered the knife closer to the little girl she had grown attached to. She didn't want to hurt her, but if it was the only way to get it through to the police that they couldn't have her back, then it was something she would have to do.

This little girl was hers now. This was her daughter now and she wanted the police to stop searching for her and people to stop staring when she tried leaving with Rosie.

Elliot began to shake his head, trying hard to keep his expression neutral but it wasn't working. His eyes were close to watering again and his chest was aching and tightening just looking at his daughter who was crying and wriggling, desperate to be back in his arms once again.

"We can't just let you take her." There was a hint of sorrow in Elliot's voice as he locked eyes with Marlene. She couldn't truly expect them to let her walk away and take Rosie from them.

He couldn't stand here and watch her run off with his daughter. Rosie belonged with him, she belonged with her family, not with this unhinged stranger.

"No I want daddy." A deep whine left Rosie's lips as she started to swing her legs, desperate to do anything to get back to her dad.

Hearing her pleading voice and seeing the utter terror plastered across Rosie's face caused Elliot's heart to crumble in his chest and weigh down in the pit of his stomach. She wanted him. She was calling out for him to come and get her and Elliot had to fight every fibre of his being not to run over there and snatch his little girl back into his arms.

He found himself wincing when Marlene sobbed and tilted her head back like she was looking up to the sky for the answers she couldn't find.

"She's mine!"

"No!" Deep whines rumbled past Rosie's lips followed by a sob as her hands started to stretch out, bash and wave in Elliot's direction.

Didn't he want her anymore? Why was this lady trying to take her? Why did she have to stay with this lady? She wanted to go back home. She wanted Elliot to take her back, not let her leave with this person.

"Baby it's alright, I'm right here-"

"You have enough!" Marlene's sudden outburst stunned Elliot into silence as his wide eyes flooded with confusion. "All those kids, too many and no one was watching her. I- I can give her the attention she deserves."

Now that wasn't fair. She couldn't simply assume that Elliot- or rather (Y/n), since he hadn't been there at the shopping centre- had too many children and therefore it was perfectly fine to take one. Marlene couldn't assume that Rosie wasn't cared for her loved or given the attention she needed and deserved.

Rosie might have four older siblings, but that didn't mean she wasn't loved or wanted or spoiled.

She was their girl, she was their family and they weren't going to let her be taken and let her go without a fight. Marlene couldn't just take their daughter because she assumed they had more than enough children to sustain them and make them happy. And she couldn't take one from someone else simply because she didn't seem to have a child of her own.

The world didn't work that way and Elliot was going to get his daughter back one way or another. There was no happy ending for Marlene in this situation and there was nothing Elliot could do to change that.

"Her sister was watching her, they've all been desperate to get her back. We want out little girl back, please. You don't know how much its hurt us, trying to find her and make sure she's okay."

Marlene began to run.

"No- no!"

Elliot couldn't brandish his gun from his holster, he couldn't take aim and risk hitting his daughter and he knew that Olivia thought the same. The pair of them set off into a sprint after Marlene who didn't seem to know where she was heading for.

There were a few side streets leading from the main road they were on, but she wasn't going to get far on foot. And she couldn't backtrack and try to get Rosie in the car and make a break for it when Elliot or Olivia could easily reach the car and get in her way.

Marlene hurried as fast as she could whilst juggling Rosie in her arms, who kept falling and slipping and wriggling making it impossible to hurry without dropping her.

Rosie wanted her to stop. She wanted to go home. She was lost, on a street she didn't know with a strange woman and she was hurt. She wanted to go home.

When the lady pressed the knife near her face and hissed at her to stop moving, a blood-curdling whine left Rosie's wavering lips and she began to sob. Her eyes scrunched up tight as tears stained her face and her arms stretched out like she was trying to reach out for Elliot.

Why was she being dragged around? Where was her mummy? Why had this lady taken her away from the shops? Why did none of her family follow or meet them outside like the woman said they would?

Elliot continued to sprint whilst ramblings and yells left his lips. He was gaining on them. He was close. His arms stretched out in front of him as he was so close that he could almost reach out for his daughter. It was like a race, a competition, and Elliot needed to win.

A blaring car horn. Back up hadn't arrived yet to block off the other side streets and barracade Marlene in to stop her from getting away. That meant bypassers and civilians weren't diverted or told to stay away from this area.

"Rosie!"

Elliot stumbled, deep breaths raging past his lips that made his chest heave and feel like it was splitting apart. He surged forward when Marlene stumbled. Everything happened so fast that Elliot couldn't tell whether the car hit her as the brakes squealed to a stop or whether she stumbled from sheer panic and terror.

Either way, she went down with Rosie in her arms who let out a mixture between a scream and a choked howl as she and the stranger collided with the road.

The moment they were down, Elliot was moving. He didn't care about being careful and he didn't think about the possibility that this woman might have sustained injuries or in the very least a few bumps and bruises. His touch was rough as he turned and battled with her arms, flinging them in every direction like he was digging through dirt to find buried treasure.

And he found her. His girl. His crying, screaming little girl who was terrified beyond belief and tormented to no end.

"Come here, okay baby it's alright. I've got you, shh." Words tumbled past Elliot's lips in a whirlwind as he tried to be careful and as tender as possible, but he just wanted to scoop her up and retreat as far as possible.

His arms bound around his girl and he lifted her up, carefully huddling her against his chest as he took a few wide steps away to add as much distance between his daughter and this crazed kidnapper.

It was a relief that Olivia crouched down beside Marlene because that meant Elliot didn't have to check her for injuries or read her her rights. He could stand back with Rosie and check her over and get ready to take her to hospital for a thorough check up.

He hushed Rosie as she let out another scream, trembling in his arms despite how she was clearly trying to burrow down into his chest. Smelling that familiar cologne clinging to Elliot's shirt which helped to quieten her down somewhat. She was back in familiar arms. She was safe. She was with one of her parents again.

Her arms bound around Elliot's neck and she nuzzled her face into his skin as he peppered her temple and cheeks with dozens of kisses.

"Oh baby, we've been looking everywhere for you. Are you hurt?" Elliot kept his lips glued to his daughter's temple, unable to truly register or believe that she was safe in his arms.

A dark part of his mind had resigned to the fact that he might not find Rosie safe and unharmed. He had been in this job for twelve years, he knew how bad a situation could get and how unlucky parents could be. Children didn't always come back alive. Having Rosie trembling in his arms and clinging to him like this proved that she was alright and that the worst hadn't happened to Elliot and (Y/n).

"El! Elliot!"

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s voice as she pelted away from the car, Finn's voice turning to careless whispers on the wind behind her. Her shoes scuffed against the road, her knees quaked and threatened to drop her down to the ground and her heart was beating frantically in an effort to escape her chest.

She saw that little frame in her husband's arms. She recognised that look of relief in his eyes and the tears streaking down his face. He had Rosie back, and (Y/n) needed to see her.

She stumbled, unable to stop herself from how fast she had been running in her efforts to reach her family. Both arms outstretched and bound around Elliot who almost went down on his back with the force which (Y/n) barrelled into him.

Her face smothered into his arm and one of her arms bound around his waist while the other hand reached out to cup the back of Rosie's head.

"Mummy," Rosie whimpered and went off into another round of crying as Elliot turned her a bit better in his embrace so (Y/n) could see and reach out for her.

Tears poured freely down (Y/n)'s face as she peppered kisses all over Rosie's face and started to card her fingers through her daughter's tangled mess of hair. She had been petrified today, she was trembling and sobbing and clearly she had gained a few injuries. But she was alive, and she was safe now. They had her back with them, where she belonged.

"It- it's alright baby, we're here."

#imagine #elliot stabler imagine #elliot imagine #elliot stabler #elliot stabler x reader #elliot x reader #law and order x reader #law and order imagine #law and order #law and order svu #special victims unit

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slayerkitty · 8 hours ago

Text

The Unofficial TaUs Timeline

(as written to the best of our knowledge by @blu-eyed-demon and myself. Disclaimer: The dates and events are to the best of our recollection and memory. If they are not 100% accurate or in exact chronological order, please forgive us as the bulk of this was written until the wee hours one night on a whim and stuff started to run together.)

When things first started happening, I hadn't been dragged into this, but @blu-eyed-demon is a big BOC fan, so they were paying some attention.

Ta, Us, and 2J start attending events as a trio throughout Summer 2024

August 31st, 2024: BOC announces that Us' contract has expired, 2J's (his KP partner) would be ending Oct 31st, 2024.

Fall 2024, exact date unknown: Copper (Ta's partner from DFF), departs for the UK for school (unofficially splitting their pairing).

Fans start assuming that when 2J's contact ended, he and Us would maybe sign somewhere else as a pair - but practically the second 2J's contract ends, he joined the cast of Lover Merman and immediately started sailing his new ship.

(this is around when I came into the picture, @blu-eyed-demon messaged me and was like, "Ta and Us are doing things, it feels weird, you know more about BL branded pair marketing than I do, is this weird? YES, IT WAS WEIRD.)

Ta and Us' social media started to feature each other a lot at this point (road trips - they went to the Heart Burger restaurant!, photoshoots, and even meals in Us' car at Us' families coffee shop).

ChalarmJames posted a clip of a workshop, where James was lying his head on Chalarm's lap and then the camera pans over and the joke was that he was mocking Us, who had his head in Ta's lap! (still no idea WHY these four were workshopping together)

In another workshop around the same time, TaUs posted IG pics/clip of them drawing on each other's hands and feet (FEET!)

The BOC Halloween party had a drunken revelation about two of the actors confirming they were a couple - two pairs were speculated: PongTong or TaUs (it ended up being PongTong and we all saw how that went, yikes).

During this period there was a noticeable uptick in their skinship, closeness, and even sniff kisses.

More surprising IG stories followed: Ta and Us did a week long training with a real class of recruits at a police academy (STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS FOR EITHER AND IT'S DRIVING ME INSANE).

Love is Like a Bike press conference was announced in early November 2024, Ta and Us are confirmed to be attending the press conference.

The press conference to officially announce the cast was held on November 24th, 2024 and Ta was slated to play one half of a secondary pairing in the show… BUT NOT WITH US. While Us was in the show, Ta was actually paired with another actor named Nanon (I'm going to be so real, I do not remember this guy's name)

(At this point, I told @blu-eyed-demon I had no idea what the fuck TaUs were doing. If they had been paired for the Bike BL, then I would have said "oh, they were soft launching, makes sense". BUT THEY WEREN'T. So my other thought was "well, fuck me, maybe they're dating, idek?")

Heading into December 2024, Toey (Ta's sibling, who just made a movie with Fourth from GMMtv), started attending events with TaUs.

There was an awards show (I can't even begin to remember which one ooops), where the cast of the Bike BL attended. Ta took ONE pic with Nanon and spent the rest of the time with Us and Toey.

(This is the second and last time we saw Ta and Nanon interact publicly, EVER)

BOC's NYE countdown party brought more fun: Ta took one pic with Copper (who was home for the holidays) and spent the entire night with Us, WHO WASN'T EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE THERE, HE CAME AS TA'S +1). They were caught sharing drinks, holding hands, hugging, and at least one sniff kiss.

They did a joint Chinese New Year photoshoot, where Ta was sitting on a throne and Us was perched on the arm next to him (it read very, very couple-y, imo).

Also for Chinese NY, they visited 9 temples together as part of Buddhist practices (accompanied by Toey).

On Valentine's Day 2025, they released a tiktok where they danced together to "How Deep is Your Love"

Us brought Ta a cake at Ta's birthday event in February 2025 (and Ta gave him a special cupcake of his own).

One of the road trips they had taken was filmed for Tong's (former KP castmate) you tube channel and dropped in March 2025. There was a "hickey" discussion back when it was filmed because pics of Ta had some questionable marks. Ta said it was from "playing airsoft." (Sure, Jan)

March 1st, 2025: Ta's contract ended with BOC. Ta, Us, and Toey all confirmed they were under the same management, Bright Venture Artists.

Either in March or April 2025, TaUs did their first joint interview. It was poorly subbed, but we were able to glean that they considered themselves a pair (unclear in what capacity) and they had future upcoming plans. They also promised that they would have a Big Announcement ‘sometime soon’ but couldn’t even give hints.

Other things learned during this interview: since DFF, Us does Ta's make up. He doesn't have a make up artist. Also, they use Guu/Mueng pronouns for themselves/each other (both of which are considered vulgar and offensive unless you are extremely close).

After Songkran, things went quiet. Love is Like a Bike had released schedules for workshopping, costume fitting, script read throughs but according to social media, nothing seemed to be happening. Everything was suddenly very hush-hush for no apparent reason.

TaUs attended the KP reunion (via Jeff) together

May 14th, 2025: the Bike BL IG makes a huge casting announcement. Nanon was no longer with the show and his character would now be played by Us.

And that is the timeline of how TaUs became a branded pair in the most ass backwards way possible (and the six months of insanity, frustration, and cage rattling that @blu-eyed-demon and myself suffered during that time period.)

Tagging by request: @respectthepetty @babyangelsky @italianpersonwithashippersheart @benkaben @callipigio @lukaherehelp

And if anyone wants to see the tik tok compilation that @blu-eyed-demon put together, it's here: https://youtu.be/H2HftdRaqdg?si=x4Y6ac5mWp0lUu6d

#TaUs #ta nannakun #us nititorn #thai bl actors #are they dating or were they just soft launching their branding?#I STILL HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA #oh and they have matching necklaces but I don't know when they got them #I SWEAR WE'RE NORMAL

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femmesport · 18 hours ago

Text

Almost Something - Chapter Two

warnings: none besides language i suppose?? an: this is a bit jumpy, but i am just trying to set the pacing and build up the characters and friendships a bit. i have really appreciated all the love y'all have been showing this fic!! also, i literally needed amari to be in this fic so thanks for allowing me that 😭 wc: 3k

Merely a drink. That was all Paige had last night, and yet she woke up feeling like she had been hit by a freight train or two. Her head was pounding and her eyes were red rimmed with a disgusting dryness. A heavy nausea lingered in the back of her throat.

Paige was wholly and unequivocally fucked. Like harboring potential feelings for the one person she shouldn’t level of fucked.

Paige sighed and pushed herself out of bed as if her body weighed a ton. She barely was able to push her glasses up her face and winced as she truly was able to take a look around her mess of a room.

Walking out into the living room, Paige heard muffled conversations around the table. Upon her emergence, her friends stopped talking and their eyes settled on her in the sympathetic way that made her skin crawl.

“Good morning,” Paige headed to the cabinet grabbing cereal, “what time are you guys heading to practice?”

“P,” Caroline started and Paige couldn’t have that.

“I was thinking of heading out right after breakfast,” Paige hurried through pouring her cereal and adding milk.

“P,” this time it was Aubrey and far more firm, “sit down.”

Aubrey’s eyes point to the chair sitting across from them.

Paige sighed and brought her things to the seat slouching down and hoping for the floor to swallow her whole. She could do a lot of things but having her friends stare at her as if she were a fragile thing was not on that list.

“Listen, you can lie to yourself, you can lie to her, but clearly things are not getting better. You need an outlet, you need to tell us what is going on” Caroline explains in a firm yet soft tone.

Paige’s eyes drop to her bowl and the tears have found their way to her eyes again.

“I don’t know when it happened” Paige whispers out and her voice is so weak that she winces at the sound.

“I don’t know when I started feeling this way, or when she started meaning that much to me” Paige put her elbows on the table and pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes trying to hide.

“P,” Amari starts softly, “is it possible that it has always been that way?” Paige winces and lets out a sound that sounded an awful lot like a sob.

“I don’t know.. I don’t know” Paige whispers her voice laced thickly with raw wet emotion.

“I feel like the world’s worst friend, I am sitting here crying and hurt because my best friend is going out and trying things to experience happiness” Paige voices her feelings and Aubrey sighs at that.

“P, you know it is not like that. You are okay with her finding happiness but you can also want your own” Caroline offers gently.

The pity and gentleness of their tones rattles Paige to her core. Her stone walls are quickly falling apart.

“Listen, I just don’t want anyone to look at me differently or treat me like I am some delicate thing on the verge of breaking” Paige lifts her head and her eyes are red rimmed and filled with a bone deep exhaustion.

“You’re not different or on the verge of breaking” Caroline replies, “we’re just worried.”

“I know and it is unfair of me to hate that when I would be doing the exact same, but damn” Paige’s eyes attempt to convey the feelings that she can’t say.

The room is silent and her friends search her face for any kind of a sign that there was more that she would say. When they came across nothing, they did what they did best. They did normal.

“I have classes until noon,” Amari says, looking down at her watch.

Caroline nods and then directs her attention back to her breakfast. “We can leave for practice in thirty minutes, Aubrey and I were going to walk together. Want to join?” Paige nods and lets the world continue on around her.

Her morning remained relatively silent. The kind of silence that is heavy and loaded, but the silence no one is addressing.

By the time they left for practice, the trio had only managed a few words and acknowledgements.

The silence around her was far more soothing than her brain which seemed to get louder and more unbearable by the time they walked into the locker rooms. The silence around her was shattered by the boisterous laughter and chatter that was filled by her teammates.

Paige tried to join in. She tried laughing with her teammates and joining in on meaningless conversations. She wanted so badly for everything to be and feel normal.

And, to her credit, it did work for a bit. That was all shattered as Azzi, her best friend, entered the locker room.

Paige had made eye contact and Azzi simply smiled before heading in her direction. Normal was only so possible when forced proximity was the reality.

Paige had shot up from her seat at her locker. She tried to be normal when muttering something about stretches and shooting practice, but her voice sounded off to her ears and her teammates' eyes lingered a moment too long.

Azzi frowned but nodded while the rest of their teammates continued on.

Paige joined a few of the underclassmen on the court for their stretches before grabbing a ball. The ball felt like lead in her hands and her body felt disoriented. Paige had been known for her ball control and having a strong shot. Today, she noted, this would not be the case. Every touch on the ball was off, her hands lingered in the wrong spots, her feet would land off and a moment late.

More teammates were joining the court and Paige’s frustration was growing. Not doing well was one thing. Not doing well and letting everyone see it, well that was an entirely different beast.

Paige tried one more shot that simply hit the rim and rode around before falling to the side. She sighed and stepped off the court and towards her water bottle.

“My shot is shit today” she groans and she slouches into the chair beside KK.

“P Boogers has an off day,” KK smirks looking in Paige’s direction, “who knew it was possible?”

Paige huffs a laugh and looks up seeing Azzi across the court. Her shots were beautiful. The way she handled the ball and the grace she held was much like watching a performance. She was graceful and appeared weightless on her feet.

Azzi looked over after making a shot and just smiled brightly at Paige. Paige tried to smile in return, but her breath had caught and she is sure she looked more pained than anything else.

The moment is short lived before the team is being called over in groups to split off and run through drills. The intensity that comes with practice allowed Paige to breathe without the insistent hum of her brian working over time.

The first drill allowed Paige to take a step back. She focused on her mindset and getting better footwork to make up for her struggling handles. Her efforts were clean and tight. It was almost impossible to notice anything wrong. Almost.

The next drill required her and Azzi to work together. Paige was fine. Really. Well, she was fine.

She was fine until she made eye contact with Azzi. Azzi had her normal game face that was calm, fierce, and wholly unpredictable. Paige tried feeding the ball up to her, but the ball landed slightly left of where she intended.

The touch wasn’t right for the play she had intended. Azzi noticed. She smiled reassuringly at Paige and they tried running it again.

This time, the ball went too far forward, and it was quickly turned over. Paige huffed out in frustration, but still, Azzi smiled. Though this time it was slightly strained.

The third time was by far the worst. The ball landed close enough to Azzi, but not with enough space for her to have a clean shot. Azzi quickly turned to pass the ball to Paige, and Paige was able to get a hand on it and turn it over to Sarah who was able to shoot.

“Thank God” Paige groans. This drill had been messy and she was feeling the frustration of it all.

“P, you good?” Azzi stepped up to ask with a concerned expression that showed she was just as frustrated, “you normally have a pretty good read on me, but that was all over the place.”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but the idea that she didn’t have a good read on Azzi served no purpose except further upsetting Paige. “You were never making it down far enough” Paige sighs out deflecting.

Azzi’s face fell at that. “I am not the one with consistent turn overs here, let’s clean it up.” She walked away and Paige groaned out again.

Geno had called her over and she didn’t have time to linger on what Azzi was saying.

“Paige, what the hell was that?” he grits out, hands flailing in the direction of the court, “you two have some of the best chemistry, and now you guys can’t even complete a simple pass?”

Paige felt his frustration tenfold. She kept her head down but nodded with tight features.

She had shut down and gone cold. Sensing he was getting nowhere, Geno goes into a monologue about completing beginner level passes without heads up your asses.

The rest of practice passed in a cold blur. Her handles were inconsistent, her footwork was messy, and her passes to Azzi had lost their touch.

Paige knew everyone had noticed. She knew Coach was watching her with a hardened expression and jaw tight, certainly planning an hour long film review. She knew Azzi had noticed and was just as frustrated.

When everyone began shuffling out of practice, Paige was the first to the locker room. When she was asked about recovery, she was quick to brush it off with promises of next time. Instead, she gathered her things, shoved on headphones, and headed out.

She still had about an hour before her first class, but if she sat still she would think. Even worse, she might do. So instead, she blared music in her headphones and walked to campus to grab some shitty food to focus on instead of staying in her head.

Campus normally had shitty food, but when you were suffering at the hands of your own mind, there was nothing that would be as awful as you felt. Paige knew this all too well.

As she was eating her low-quality food and trying to think about anything else, her phone buzzed.

Azzi: Hey, are we good?

Paige pauses. Her fingers hover over her phone. For once, she has lost all words for Azzi. How would she explain this at all?

Her brain runs through a million possible responses.

Yeah, we’re good. Why wouldn’t we be?

It is just me.

No.

I am going through it.

Instead, Paige sighs and locks her phone. She has nothing to say that wouldn’t lead to bigger conversations that she wasn’t ready to have.

Paige shifts her focus to finishing her shitty lunch and making her way to some communications class she signed up for at Azzi’s insistence that it was the best professor ever, seriously.

Class left Paige feeling just as drained. She spent most of the time berating herself in her head for not being able to focus. Her notes were disorganized jumbles with terminology she is pretty sure Azzi used.

They had been assigned a paper and Paige missed all of the instructions. As she packed up all she could do was hope it would be sent out in an email later.

She headed out of her class and failed to consider that Azzi knew her schedule and was also likely to have classes in this building. Immediately outside of the door waiting for her was Azzi.

“P,” she says firmly as Paige steps outside of the door and sighs upon hearing her name, she pauses but doesn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“P,” Azzi tries again, wrapping her hand around Paige’s elbow trying to capture her attention.

Paige’s whole body tenses up. She pauses for a second and takes a deep breath before turning around.

“Hey Az,” she says with a forced smile, “what’s up?”

Azzi frowns, “you’ve been ignoring me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Paige sighs, “I’ve just been stressed with school, training, and draft prep stuff. We’re good” Paige says with as calming of a smile as she could manage. It wasn’t fooling Azzi.

“Look, you’re my best friend. I know you’re lying to me right now” Azzi sighs and Paige swears she sees her eyes gloss over, “but also, you’re my best friend. I need to trust that you will tell me if something is truly wrong.”

Paige tries to smile reassuringly at Azzi, but her heart breaks. She doesn’t mean to be pushing her away or letting her think that it’s her fault. She doesn’t mean to lie or avoid. She just cannot handle any of this right now.

“I will tell you,” Paige says softly with a smile. Azzi returns the gesture and drops her hand from Paige’s arm.

“Hey, team hangout tonight” Azzi says with a bright smile after a moment of silence and Paige cannot help but smile in return.

“You guys planning hangouts without me again?” Paige grins at Azzi who lets out a genuine low chuckle.

Paige’s heart sputters at the noise.

“You would be included in making the plans if you would start opening upperclassmen group chat again” Azzi jokes leaning in to bump Paige’s shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, yeah” Paige laughs and then more sincerely, “I’ll be there.”

Azzi smiles at Paige so softly that she couldn’t help but melt a little bit, “see you, P.”

Azzi wraps her arms around her best friend’s middle. Paige’s heart stops for a second and she freezes with her arms laying flat at her sides. Her hands quickly catch up to the moment and wrap around Azzi’s shoulders.

In the hug, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Before the team hangout, Paige decided to join Jana, KK, and Ice at the library for a study session. She had been in her head for so long now, that she had been neglecting her friendships and studies.

“Well, look who decided we were lucky enough to be graced with her presence” Ice smirks, looking up from her work and KK gasps dramatically with Jana joining in.

“Yeah, yeah. Here to put the student in student athlete or whatever” Paige jokes putting her book bag around the chair and grabbing out her computer.

“You’re better than I am,” Jana groans looking at her computer.

Paige does spend some time working through an assignment. At least she tried. But her mind wouldn’t stop wandering.

She couldn’t stop thinking about dark curls, brown eyes, and a smile that made her melt. It was honestly kind of ridiculous. She couldn’t last more than a few minutes without thinking about Azzi.

Suddenly she was thinking of every quiet moment between practices, every shared hotel room and the hushed moments of the night. She couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who has occupied her every waking thought for the past few months and her sudden interest in Tyler.

Paige almost groans at that mere thought of his name.

After a few minutes of flat faced staring at a blank document, Paige snapped out of it and looked around to her teammates. She noticed that all of them were too engrossed in their work to notice her struggle.

She flips her phone over and sees no notifications, but knows she needs a break.

“Hey, I have a missed call. I’ll be right back” she stands up and the other three vaguely acknowledge her before returning to their work.

She finds a quiet room and opens her contacts. She finds who she is looking for and clicks the call button waiting through only a few moments of ringing.

“Hey Paigey,” the soft voices flowed through the speaker on her phone, “what’s up?”

Paige hears her dad vaguely say something to a coworker and then a door shutting on the other end.

“Hey, dad. I just wanted to call and chat, miss you” Paige explains gently and she hears her dad chuckle a little bit on the other end.

“Are you going soft on your old man?” her dad jokes and Paige just laughs, “we miss you too.”

“How is your training going?” he asks and Paige shifts into a more comfortable subject. She shares the strengths of the team and excitement based on the results of their previous games.

Her dad fell into comfortable conversation. He shared some observations he saw from watching the previous game. Paige was always grateful for the feedback and support of her family.

“You know who I am really excited to see this season?” he asks suddenly with a lot of excitement. Paige just hums.

“Azzi” her heart speeds up at the girl’s name, “she has been playing really well. It’s like she has something to prove. She’s going to kick some ass this season!”

At this point, Paige begins floating away from the conversation. Her concentration shifts and she can only think about what her dad said.

It’s like she has something to prove.

Right now, the only person Azzi is trying to impress is Tyler. Paige cannot handle the fact that if Azzi is playing really well or is trying to impress someone, it is likely the very guy whose name makes Paige’s skin crawl.

Refusing to entertain that thought any longer, Paige settles back into a normal rhythm with her father. They discuss upcoming games and breaks and try to work out times to come visit.

The call ends, as it usually does, with promises to keep in touch.

The end of the call allowed Paige a few moments to try calming her heart. She missed her family and would normally turn to Azzi in times like these. She knew this wasn’t possible in her current mindset.

Instead, she took a deep breath through her nose, tried blinking away the emotions, and headed back inside to the library. She would not let this distract her from the things that mattered most.

Please repost, like, and leave your feedback! Thank you!!! <33

-- tea ★’*•.¸♡

#pazzi fic #paige bueckers fic #azzi fudd fic #uconn wbb fic #pazzi fics #tea writing femme fics #paige x azzi #wcbb fic #paige bueckers angst #pazzi angst #azzi fudd angst

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gorey-gorella · 1 day ago

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Ozai isn't THAT sadistic(and his gleeful sadism always has reasons):

Can people tell me anything Ozai is gleefully sadistic about besides burning the EK(enemy land), toying with Aang(the Avatar, the last Air Nomad, the 'weakling pacifist' who possibly reminds him of Iroh), and when Zuko betrayed him(traitor, loves his uncle over him, etc. And even then, it's more smirky and chilling and 'fuck you too' rather than gleeful with Zuko in the bunker)?

And even then, he started in the forest first. Let's be honest with ourselves, Ozai seemed to like burning the forest itself, not the people 100%, and he was getting hard over his power fantasy. If he wanted to start with screams and bodies, he would do it and go into a better location with more people. But instead, he is starting with a forest. A safe option. A way to project his dominance and feel badass without immediately killing random EK civilians. Remember that like, 99.9% of, if not all of his war crimes are indirect and detached. This is the first time he will have to be on a battlefield, to kill families and stuff, face to face.

Like, seriously, I feel like Ozai's sadism is grossly exaggerated, lmao. Not saying the moment without Aang or him getting a hardon over burning the EK to the ground isn't concerning, but like, these are the only moments I remember him as this hyper-sadist.

Hell, he's on an Airship, alone, high in the sky, that is already detached enough. And he still be starting with the forest, lmao. Thr Forest that is already a Fire Nation colony. Look, Ozai isn't the best at war strategy, but do you really think he completely forgot it was a colony, and forgot it was up to Sozin's Comet? He seems to like the thought more than actually being a man and doing mass murder with his own flames and watching it directly and watching hundreds of people scream for mercy. If he truly wanted that now and immediately to mass murder and actually goon to random EK people dying, as I said, he would go more towards a better location for that.

Sure, it could be 'projecting dominance', and I believe so in a way, but like, nobody in actually population dense areas are going to see that well. Burning a forest doesn't really prove shit when literally nobody can see it.

Could it be that he subconsciously was afraid of the real deal? After all, fantasy doesn't actually equal reality and how he would act if he actually did it.

Hell, as I said, he seemed to enjoy just burning the land, Wulong Forest(with nobody in it) itself.

He is gleefully in his own little power fantasy, the thought of burning the EK down and burning down shit. Not actually burning people itself. We don't know how he would actually react to burning EK people on the ground itself, and maybe, he doesn't feel ready for that. Maybe he is afraid of feeling things he doesn't want to feel. So he starts in a safe edgy target.

And as I said. Fantasising about it doesn't mean he will act the exact same, comfy, gleeful way if he actually targeted a population dense area.

No, manipulating Azula isn't sadism. It's narcissistic, manipulate and mentally abusive, but he isn't trying to make her feel lesser and weaker than him in the moments we see. If he was, then he won't be so passive and sugarcoat his abandonment of her and make it seem like it was a duty for her to stay back. Instead, he would have threatened her and say to do as he say as he is her father and ruler and this is a necessity in a very cold tone. But he didn't. He clearly was annoyed by Azula there, but he still covered it in sugar anyways. He didn't even mention Azula's lie's about how Zuko slayed the Avatar. He passively punished her. Like if he was detaching from all of this and wanted her to shut up. But at the same time, he still wanted her trust and for her to be wrapped under his finger tips. He isn't trying to prove dominance over her. He is trying to get her out of the way without sounding like an asshole about it.

Ik he technically was gleefully sadistic with Aang, Aang is different than thousands of EK people. Aang came clearly to stop him. And Aang is the scary big bad after he was told about before. And when he realized Aang was weak, well, it must have felt insulting and ironic to him, the Avatar and last Airbender is acting like a weakling coward. Perhaps he's projecting his own cowardness to Aang. It's not sadism for the sakes of it, and he possibly may be projecting onto Aang.

Scarring Zuko isn't exactly either. Zuko wanted an Agni Kai, just not with his dad. But he indirectly challenged his father to an Agni Kai. Ozai walked to him and gave him many chances to fight back, demanding him to, but Zuko not only refused, but cried and begged him to not do so. To the Fire Nation, it's a justified punishment, not excessive cruelty. To scar and banish Zuko. He scarred only the left side of his face, cleanly and tidy. It's a calculated, cruel punishment. He literally says so in the bunker. 'It was too teach you respect!'. Maybe there is sadism. But it's most likely highly cold, as in a 'he deserves this lesson and forced me to strike him' type of way. Rather than traditional sadism.

He is not exactly the most sadistic person ever. Hell, I would argue Hama is more sadistic than him.

He is rarely ever sadistic, nevertheless, gleefully so. He is not this badboy daddy dom who loves just making people feel pain because of the sakes of it. He isn't the type of person to torture innocent, random people who literally have done nothing from what I can see.

And yes, he still is a cruel man. Hell, he still is sadistic too. Just not as much as people treat him as. Very far from it, really. Sadistic isn't the first word I would describe him. Hell, it's not even the second. Might be the third, though, and even that depends.

Btw, I am talking about solely the show canon. The comics aren't canon to me. No sadistic moment in the comics counts to me because, to me, that isn't Show Ozai.

Tell me your opinions below, or if I may have missed something.

#atla ozai #avatar the last airbender #zuko #atla #ozai #azula #atla azula #avatar aang #fire lord ozai #prince zuko #princess azula #aang #atla aang #atla zuko #atla hama #hama

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asneakyfox · 8 hours ago

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well, let's say someone responds to you so consistently in such an annoying way that you start hesitating to post anything at all, because every time you draft a post, you imagine the exact very annoying argument they're going to start over it, and you find yourself engaging less and less with the fandom - if you just go along with that impulse, i think, you're letting that person control your own role in the discourse (whether or not you think they're actually trying to; it doesn't really matter if it's intentional or not here), and that's not good. i think the whole community is worse if people end up pulling away for that kind of reason. so i think that in those situations it's much better to block.

(one example of this sort of thing, fwiw, is the situation that prevailed in ofmd fandom with the canyon in, say, much of 2023 before s2 dropped; there was a good while where if you posted anything about izzy that wasn't fully canyon-compliant several canyon accounts would reliably descend upon you and argue so aggressively that most people outside the canyon just avoided ever mentioning izzy at all. i thought that was a bad situation, and that's the reason i ever started posting meta - i didn't want them controlling the conversation, so i started blocking the canyon and i resolved that if i had something to say about izzy i would say it, and people immediately started dming me to say how relieved they felt to see someone say what they'd been thinking. and the fandom only became a place where it was possible to talk about izzy after we all started blocking them. i think it was a big improvement when we did that, because he's an interesting character who can be fun to talk about!)

as far as vaguing and accusations go, like, ok, yes i'm thinking of a couple of specific people here, and i'm sure it's possible to figure out who they are. (the people in question have been 100% certain i was vaguing them before when i absolutely wasn't at all, so i'll be surprised if they can't figure out when it actually is happening!) so in that sense i'm not going to claim that it's not a vague, and if people don't like vaguing they can be mad at me if they want. but also vaguing specific people is not really the point here. i don't want to say who i'm talking about here because then the focus would be on whom i'm accusing and whether the accusation is justified, but i actually mean this as advice. i think you should follow this advice whether or not the people you need to block are the same people i would block. if anyone reading this finds that the person who makes you reluctant to post is me, then i think you should block me, and no hard feelings!

fox guide to dealing with people who keep trying to control the fandom discourse & silence any opinion that disagrees with them:

say whatever you want

when they complain block/mute them

say it again

#being a fandom is suffering

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melia-an2fa · 1 day ago

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Christ on a cracker, no one seems to be able to act normal about this SaveAFox shit. I remember even back a couple years ago, I'd heard some criticisms of how she handled things, simply agreed "Yeah that sounds a bit concerning, I won't be watching her stuff," and then moved on, maybe on occasion gave friends a heads up if they posted her stuff, but otherwise, just... moving on.

I remember getting agitated when what started as very mild criticisms started to evolve into post after post into dedicated tag for her into Google Doc Callout Post™ and just feeling deeply annoyed by this being a constant cycle, and unfollowed some folks because of it. People who remember my old blog probably remember my post talking about people on Animalblr (? is that the word) I found annoying, this was part of why.

And in a way, it's a bit... cathartic? That may not be the right word for it. The irony of it all, is that the people who were most vocal about this, I could say the same thing for them that I would've said about Mikayla, which is that they were well-intended (caring about animal welfare and having real concerns) but still irresponsible (documenting literally every thing the woman did in dedicated tags; this was bound to attract bad faith actors and concern trolls!)

I honestly hadn't thought about Mikayla for a long time until this happened today, because, again, my response was simply "Well I won't watch those videos" then moving on. I didn't keep a dedicated tag to documenting everything she did. Hearing the news was honestly devastating, because I don't care what a person did, they don't deserve to die. I never even thought of Mikayla as a bad person, just well-intended but irresponsible, even if she were a "bad person" I wouldn't think she deserved to die.

So, fuck you if you sincerely consider this a "win," if you have no regrets about anything you did. I personally now have regrets trusting the word of some of these individuals, seeing as it has now escalated to this point. And sure, Ethan said it was because of people she knew and other sanctuaries, but let's not pretend rumors don't spread. I remember when I saw the doc in particular, I was disgusted that her having an OnlyFans even came up, it just ruined the credibility of the entire doc, no matter what legitimate concerns you may have had about Mikayla's animal welfare, because her having an OF... has nothing to do with her welfare! But that being information other sanctuaries could've found out about could've still ruined her credibility with them regardless, since, y'know, people fucking hate women who have a sexuality?

I will also say, I do think some of her defenders are going way too far, and I do not approve of this. I think it's kinda ridiculous to accuse every single person who's ever mildly criticized her, especially if it was years ago, and/or came from a person who's been inactive on Tumblr for half a year, of being "murderers." I've seen people hurling slurs (mostly the R-slur), being transphobic (because Owlvid in particular is trans), making threats about doxxing people and/or raping them and their family members... what the hell is wrong with you? There is no childish "But they did it first-" here, you are engaging in the exact kind of behavior that lead to Mikayla's death, and that's disgusting, what we're learning from this shouldn't be "Let's keep up this cycle of vengeance!" or "Let's document everything someone we don't like does!" No, do not entertain the idea of the "callout post." That's how we get here in the first place. Block. Move on. Curate. That's what the people who didn't like her content should've done, too.

May Mikayla rest in peace, my heart goes out to her family, I hope Ethan can get the funds that he needs in order to take care of his daughter, and I hope the animals can, at least, be rehomed to other sanctuaries, should Ethan not receive proper funding.

There's been a lot of recent events making me rethink how quickly I and others jump the gun when it comes to animal welfare concerns, and this is one of them.

#saveafox

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seiwas · 16 hours ago

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dad!iwa👀

hello nonie!! thanks for celebrating with me!! 💗

cw: reader implied pregnancy, post-partum, fluff, established relationship

dad!iwa

it feels odd to be sentimental over something as seemingly small as this, but you suppose it’s just one of the things that comes with parenthood.

you should be used to it by now—the short, buzzed strands of iwaizumi’s freshly trimmed hair. you used to clip them yourself, back when you were both broke college students trying to cut corners between rent and overpriced groceries. years of practice have made you perfect it; somewhere between a buzz cut and a crew cut is the exact length that iwaizumi's found himself preferring your hands over any barber's.

it's a routine every other month, one you've kept up with as much as you could even during your pregnancy. but since the baby's arrival—always halfway between either of your arms or the crib—it's been tough to find the time for almost anything, really. the strands of iwaizumi's hair have overgrown, spiked up like the pictures you've seen of him when he was in high school.

—all until now, a little after two months of your little girl arriving earth-side; you've managed to set aside a few minutes to finally give him a trim. fluffs of his hair scatter around your living room, tiny imperceptible millimeters of them no doubt sneaking into the cracks of wooden floorboard.

he looks handsome, as always; fresh, as he kisses you thank you—and, not to toot your own horn, but you think this might be your best hand at it yet (or it might just be your hormones, who knows). it's funny, you think, how postpartum has hit you harder than you ever believed it would. one moment, you want to jump your husband after a fresh new cut, and in the next, you're hit with a sudden surge of emotions bubbling up to spill out of your eyes.

it's a split-second vision as you run your fingers over his head, shaking out any leftover cut hair. you picture it so vividly, the afternoons you've watched iwaizumi gently blow raspberries on her tummy. she'd giggle, clinging onto the then spiked up strands of his hair.

iwaizumi has to snap you out of it when he catches you near tears.

"hey," he immediately turns, grabbing your hand as he soothes you with soft hushes, "what's wrong?"

you bite your lip, trying to keep it in. it's ridiculous, after all—

"is it the hair? you did a great job, babe, you always—" his rambling is cut short when you shake your head, letting the tears fall on their own.

your frown deepens as you stare at him, eyes filled with emotion.

"she's gonna miss it," you half-sniffle, half-mumble, tilting your head slightly in the direction of your daughter's room, "that's all."

it takes him a while to comprehend what you mean as he furrows his brows; then, it clicks, and he stands to hug you immediately.

"aw, babe," he runs his palm up and down your back, almost the same way he rubs your baby girl's when he soothes her to sleep.

you didn't expect to get so emotional over iwaizumi's hair out of all things, but just imagining your little girl's reaction during play time with her papa is enough to break your heart.

"she won't have those strands to cling on to anymore," you tuck your head under his chin, "she'll be so confused."

iwaizumi kisses the top of your head, and you know, from the slightest movement, that he's stifling a smile.

"babies like sensory stuff right?" he mumbles, lips still pressed to your head. you nod. "her papa's head can be a sensory playground then."

you chuckle lightly; you suppose, you never thought to see it that way. and call it the hormones, or love, but when iwaizumi adds on so confidently, "she'll know it's me, and she'll know what to do because she's half you."

—you don't think you'd want your life any other way than it is right now.

#iwaizumi x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #shotorus.workbook #hope u like this nonie! gave me the major feels #ask #rep

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phantombegruvia · 1 day ago

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SFTH MURDER MYSTERY - PART 3 [JOHN JACOB POV]

part 2 << part 3 >> part 4 MASTERPOST

*CW for talk of death and child death, and talk of potential vomit

[WAYNE MANOR LOBBY - 17:01]

John Jacob couldn't control his breathing. He had just watched a child die, for fuck’s sake. The death itself was horrific too, John had to shuffle backwards slightly to avoid the wee child's blood from getting on his shoes.

Ethel stepped forward, through the sticky blood, and poked at the boy's face, “wakey wakey! You said you were going to perform for us! Well, come on!” She carried on to prod.

“He's dead, Ethel,” Rumpled informed her.

“Oh, is he? I hadn't realised,” she responded, with no hint of sarcasm, “that doesn't mean he can't perform.” She leaned into his ear, “WAKE UP!”

“I did think she was insane,” Tracy says, “but now I realise she's insane insane, and I've gotta respect it.”

John was too busy trying to not throw up to care for what they were saying. He barely registered being dragged to the next room.

[WAYNE MANOR DRAWING ROOM - 17:03]

He was unceremoniously plonked onto one of the many sofas in the huge room. Derek was placed next to him, also in the exact state as he was; pale and shivering, eyes glossed over.

“The three residents of the manor are dead,” Margaery began, “two died the same day ten days ago, and one just now. The kid didn't even know that the others had died.”

“But how? I mean, Wayne was the kid's adopted father, how did he not notice?” Tarquin questioned.

“He said something about Wayne disappearing often,” Rumpled recalled, “why would he need to do that?”

“Why would Batman feel the need to kill the man who helps the people of Glasgow with his money and power?” Margaery contemplated.

“Unless this ‘Batman’ didn't kill him,” Juliet shrugged, “and it was a setup?”

There were a few hums of contemplation.

Suddenly Esmeralda perked up, “the butler!”

“You think the butler killed Wayne?” Amanda asked, “that's quite.. cliché.”

“No, I don't,” Esmeralda began, “the tea, it was half drunk.”

Tracy perked an eyebrow up, “What's that got to do with anything?”

“He was drinking it, when he died, what if he didn't suffer from a sudden heart attack? What if he was poisoned?”

“Which would mean that he was murdered too,” Rumpled caught on quickly, “two of the three were killed.”

All this talk of murder made John rather queasy, and he had no idea why. He's seen death before, he's caused death before, so why was this different?

“Too much of a coincidence-” Margaery started.

“No such thing!” Ethel interrupted, “coincidences don't exist, it's just a silly word that people came up with to explain things.”

“The boy was murdered too, then,” Margaery gave Ethel a deathly glare, “but.. how? How could somebody have even-”

Brriiingg

The sudden noise made the entire group freeze.

Brriiingg

There was a telephone on a small table in the corner of the room.

Brriiingg

Whoever is ringing may have answers.

Brriiingg

But the question is, who dares answer?

The answer with the most votes will be the one to answer. The answer could have effects on the overall story.

*HINT: the person on the other end of the phone may have important answers - who is the best person to pry those answers out?

#shoot from the hip murder mystery #FIRST INTERACTIVE BIT!#I didn't put all twelve characters as an option as I thought it would be a little overwhelming #so i spun the wheel 6 times :)#also #there won't always be an OBVIOUS hint - just for this one as it's the first one (hints will from now on be subtle in the actual fic)#also a little bit of a shorter update as I was unsure what to do #AND I added some theories made by you guys (ie. Alfred being poisoned)#fun fact: it took three parts for all characters to have spoken at least once.. some are easier than others to write it turns out #sfth #shoot from the hip #shootimpro #sfthposting

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oklotea · 2 days ago

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The Good King Megapost 🌊☀️

OKAY. HUMONGOUS RAMBLING SESSION UNDER THE CUT. IF ANY OF YOU CARE ABOUT THIS MAN. (or the evil queen lol)

first of all introductions, introductions,,, why did I decide to do any of this? Why, out of all the ever after high characters I could get fixated over, one of those special few characters include Mr King, who the amount of times he had been mentioned over the book series could be counted with a pair of hands. Why oh why, him? I've been in this cave for 5 years let me out

Well the answer is, the same that goes for every class of classics character. It's an interesting look at what came before in the eah world, and also it's just really fucking fun to explore a cast of characters who we KNOW to be doomed, whether that be in a subtle, mournful kind of way, or they're Literally in a current state of limbo and suffering as we speak and no one can save them

But I have a particular regard for GK for a few things. Mostly the precarious position he finds himself in the story of EAH.

He is Raven's father, and he played a huge part in leading her to value kindness and justice over everything else despite her destiny. He was The Evil Queen's husband, and he watched as his wife destroyed the lives of their old classmates, completely going off-script, and being unable to stop her.

What are his motives? What in the world was he thinking throughout it all? What was he thinking when he found himself betrothed to supposedly the evilest worst woman alive? What did he think when he saw the daughter he raised becoming the leader of a new revolutionary force? What did he think when he watched the two stand toe to toe?

I started asking these questions and pondering them seriously around 2022. And from the long hours I spent thinking about this man who didn't even have a face to take reference of, I've gathered a few things.

He was a good man. An earnestly good man, as it seems. It takes an immensely big heart to raise the daughter of someone who caused the kind of pain and wreckage so many people will be feeling the effects of for years to come. Especially if everyone is 100% sure that daughter will grow up to repeat the exact same things her mother did in a decade or so. And yet, he never even once believed what people said.

He's strong-willed, loyal, dedicated, and has a big heart with a lot of love inside it.

All these qualities are highlighted when you reckon with the fact that he's doing all this while being isolated on a barren and cold rocky island in the middle of a gray ocean. Like it's a punishment for loving his daughter. Or for the destiny he had no control over.

Speaking of destiny!!!!!!!! GEEHEHEEHEHHGHHRHGJH BRO WAS LITERALLY MARRIED TO THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE or in other words THE EVIL QUEEN FROM THE STORY BOOK OF LEGENDS

If I remember correctly, we don't get much insight on what GK thinks of EQ. We know vice versa, (EQ thinks GK is pathetic and useless 👍👍👍👍), but not the former. So a lot of his perspective is left up to interpretation. This isn't actually as hard of a task as it seems!

From how GK sees Raven, he very obviously isn't as avid of a believer in destiny as everyone else in EA at the time. He doesn't believe people are born in any inherent way. He believes people can grow to be kind, or cruel. He believes that people aren't born inherently similar or different from their parents. He believes in NUANCE is what I'm saying. This is an important thing to establish about GK's character. We gotta know where he stands on the royal rebel spectrum, and what his core beliefs are, cause it'll dictate a lot of his actions.

Perhaps some context, first. From what we could gather from Maid Marian's situation, as well as beauty and the beast's, It seems that when Royals eventually discover their destiny at a certain age, and it unfortunately belongs to a kind of fairytale that didn't fit most fairytale norms, (the princess saving the prince, a beast as a main character, a woman being allowed to be as heroic as her male counterparts etcetera, etcetera) said royal is ex-communicated from their royal families and forced to relocate somewhere else, far, far away. I believe this is what happened to GK as well.

He finds out that he's destined to be the bumbling, useless trophy husband, to the evilest villain in all the land, and immediately his family are collectively disappointed in him. Just imagine that for a second... Arrghhhh God, the grief, the heartbreak, the self loathing.....

He loses all the people he previously had in his life, and next thing you know he's marrying the mildly intimidating number 1 home evilnomics student that he hardly knew. He's seemingly backed into a dark corner, guaranteed to contain unhappiness and dread.

UNLESS he is established to be someone who believes in NUANCE and KINDNESS!!!!! That would mean a greater part of him, despite his worries, still has the decency to humanize EQ, see her as her own person, and give her the benefit of the doubt that things don't have to be so tense between them. And when you're literally severed from the rest of the world on a cold barren island with one other person, it's just the smart thing to do to establish some peace between the two of you.

So despite the bitter, venomous looks EQ had shot everyone who even glanced at her in the hallways of EAH, and despite her destiny that she will soon fulfill, and despite her generally unpleasant demeanor, GK is willing to try to build some rapport between them.

Regardless of how hard EQ's gonna make it for him.

(now here comes the part where I write literal fanfic)

To say EQ was treated unfairly growing up would be an understatement. All she's known her whole life was being the next evil queen. I think she grew up quite lukewarm about the whole thing. Numb to it, even. Until something broke at a certain point, and now all she ever feels is overwhelming anger and bloodthirst for the whole world to bow down to her rule. She feels like that might be the only thing that would make her happy... To destroy and rule the world that had molded her into this monster.

She could never put the pain into words. How it came to be. Why she believes what she believes. It's not like any of the storybook children were given words to describe these things. Now she just is.

She's been plotting world domination since the start of senior year, and so far all the pieces have been falling perfectly into place, all she needs to do now is to fulfill her destiny, be banished from the main land, and begin waiting for sleeping beauty's story to start, and then things would start to get interesting.... But she forgot to account for one tiny Itty bitty thing. Living the married life.

She's banished with some nobody with a nothing name, but worst of all is he's actually trying to be FRIENDS with her. Who does he think he is?!

And so, begins the classic journey of denial...... EQ tries to get GK off her back, GK is awfully endearing and warm and kind, and ALL these things that make EQ wanna throw up or kill herself when she thinks about it too hard, next thing you know, EQ's molded a bit of extra space in her life to fit GK in, just cause she definitely only sees him as a pest she can't wait to get rid of, and because he cooks some very good seafood dinners.

Uh oh! Now he's interrupting her evil world domination get together with her evil goblin henchmen, and she's DISMISSING THESE IMPORTANT MEETINGS????? TO HANG OUT WITH GK?????? CAUSE HE SAYS HE MISSED HER????!????

Oh dang it. Fuck. Now she's opening up to him. She's telling him she misses her friends back in the dark forest. Now they're gardening together. Now they share a bed. And whoops!!!!!!!! Now she's realizing no one will ever love her like this again!!!!!!!!! This is bad!!!!!! This is very bad!!!!!! This is not very evil of her!!!!!!!!!!

A lot of stuff happens, stuff I'm probably gonna share some other time

Like the intricacies of the relationship between these two, how they're good for each other, how they're ABSOLUTELY HORIRBLE for each other, why they're my parents, why they're my kids, why they're everything and more

But point issssssss that even though they shared some good times, and for a fleeting moment, EQ truly believed all she needed to be happy was this pathetic, useless man... She never truly lost sight of what really mattered to her.

Power. Dominance.

Not a day passes where she's not considering every single variable for her great conquest. She is still cooped up on her side of the castle, she is still plottin g. They're marriage was doomed to fail from the start, and the real tragedy is, that even though GK had hoped and prayed that it wouldn't turn out the way it would... It did. He forgot who he married. And they betrayed eachother.

Maaannnnnn I wish I could've talked more about my interpretation of GK. his flaws, his strengths, how his opinion of EQ had developed after all these years..... HIS ANGST!!!!!! THE OVERWHELMING AMOUNT OF PAIN HE HAD TO ENDURE WHEN ALL HE'S EVER BEEN WAS TRY TO BE GOOD AND KIND!!!!!!! IT WON'T CHANGE THE FACT EVERYONE SEES HIM AS A GOOD FOR NOTHING USELESS WASTE OF SPACE!!!!!!!!!! AAARHGHGHHHHHHH

Actually hold on. Maybe I can elaborate a bit. I mean, it's THIS SPECIFIC CHARACTER ASPECT that I've been microwaving in my mind for a few days now. And I suppose it would be a neat way to close this post.

*ahem*

EAH has a real knack of creating characters who represent different perspectives and experiences set in its world. It makes for a really fun story that I really enjoy!!!! Apple, the indoctrinated troubled teenage girl, EQ as someone selfishly morphing the system for their own advantage, Ashlynn and Hunter as a story of forbidden, star-crossed lovers. Etc.

What kind of story do I think GK represents as a character? What potential do I see in him?

Well, after everything that we've come to know of him, there's a particular story that I feel suits him. There's a question that his character tries to answer.

How do you be a good person in a system where kindness is so regulated, controlled, and even punished when it does not fit the right criteria of 'goodness' in said system?

Perhaps that's the question that has been haunting GK all his life. And it's not exactly a question he can answer very easily.

He is split between being submissive towards destiny, and theoretically being respected by the fairytale world, or following his heart and showing love and kindness towards the people the world had deemed undeserving of it. But the thing is, from the moment destiny had decided who he was always meant to be, he is thrown headfirst into a position that highlights the hypocrisy and superficiality of destiny.

He is the GOOD KING but he is looked down upon for showing unconditional love to people who are "inherently evil", who are only evil because the system deems them so. HE IS PUNISHED FOR IT.

GK is a rebel. That I am confident in. Even if he didn't have the words to describe it. He knows that deep down he thinks the entire system is bogus and unfair, and he just wishes this cruel world would just leave him and his little family alone, but he's just too scared for their own well being to take any direct action to change things.

But, whether he knew what he was doing or not, he was rebelling in his own way. a more meaningful way. he taught Raven to be good, and to be true to herself, which would eventually lead her to becoming the catalyst for a greater change in the world of EAH.

Siiighhhhh........ Godddddd godddddd something something you will never know the violence it took to be this gentle

I think ultimately, GK's story ends on a much more hopeful note. The most hopeful, infact! He watches his daughter make a world she and her friends could live in, a world GK wishes he could have grown up in. But now, he can finally be at peace knowing he won't have to lose Raven the same way he lost his lover. the end

regardless how you may feel about this post, thank you for getting all the way to the end!!! :DD i hope you enjoyed my enthusiasm as much as i enjoyed crafting this interpretation together.

and actually if you dislike everything i wrote here, thats fine too! cause little did you know this is all just an elaborate plot to get you to listen to my EQ/GK character playlist BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and ykw since you're already here, im also gonna advertise my artfight profile. EQ and GK are two out of three characters you can draw during July, and i hope to see yall on the battlefield!!! happy artfighting!!!!!!

#ever after high #eah #eah parents #class of classics #evil queen eah #good king eah #eah good king #eah evil queen #the evil queen #the good king #raven queen #tea art 🎨#oklo makes a post #this post has been a wip for like a few weeks now HRHHFIRKH FINALLY ITS DONE #my very first major eah parents post #wtf #i have been obsessed with them for years #and only NOW do i come up with something???????#lmaoooo no yall its fine im just happy that i was able to come out with this #guys gk is my favorite class oc classics character #i feel his suffering a bit too well #also hes a beautiful fat man i need him more than i need anything else #EQ does not need a twink boytoy she needs a MAN TOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! who MOANS like a GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#to everyone who is a twink GK truther good for yall!!! like seriously!!!!!! you keep your gk interpretations and i keep mine #if anyone draw him #i will owe my life to them #ok good night class of classics nation #this episode: good king #next episode? who knows :P #Spotify

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artbyblastweave · 15 hours ago

Note

what, in your mind, is the difference between a story being predictable (solid foreshadowing, well constructed and clearly telegraphed story arcs, early and solid establishment of themes) and "predictable" (trite, cliched, overreliant on stereotypes). because sometimes it really feels like a case of "our glorious tropes" vs "their barbarous cliches" where the only real differenc is just "well i like this one more so i dont care if i can see where the story is going"

I've never really come up with a satisfying answer to the "their barbarous cliches, our glorious tropes" thing, and I don't really think I'm going to; my respect for a story's execution is often bound up in my respect for the overall project, which is often contingent and vibes based.

An example of this- around Easter, I was doing a review (since on the backburner) of a bad pulp sci-fi novel from the 60s called The Day They H-bombed Los Angeles, which is, basically, the exact kind of referent fiction for the pastiches present in Fallout. I found it interesting as a time capsule but not good in any meaningful way- but the thing is that it did contain a plot twist, right. Well telegraphed, logical within the rules set up within the story, more visible on a second readthrough (although still pretty visible on the first readthrough.) It borders on active genre commentary, even! But it's embedded in a book so thoroughly mediocre and of-its-time in its prose and politics that I can't bring myself to be enthusiastic about or even fair in my assessment of the solidly workmanlike elements. And on the other hand, I know for a fact, right, that if I'd encountered this book as a small child, if it had been a formative read rather than a curiosity, I'd be running defense for the exact same elements that I'm writing off right now, scrambling to find something worthwhile to latch onto and elevate in order to validate my one-time tastes, in order to escape the sense that I've built my entire sense of aesthetics on a foundation of quicksand. Which is what I think a lot of people are doing a lot of the time.

So, you know. It is what it is.

#clearing out the drafts #thoughts #meta #ask #asks

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nizhspo · 3 hours ago

Text

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader

content: grief, ghost!reader, canon divergence, emotionally stunted teenage megumi

he hears you first in the dorm.

not with his ears, not quite, but in the way the kettle starts to hiss a second before he flips it on. in the light tap of the bathroom door just after he’s walked away from it. in the soft, low hum that flutters out of the kitchen when he’s on the couch, reading, pretending he’s not waiting for it.

it’s always the same song.

you always used to hum it without thinking, half-lost, half-tuned-out, like it lived in your bones. he doesn’t know the name.

maybe you never told him. maybe he never asked. maybe he should’ve.

your picture is still on his desk.

a polaroid, glossy edges curling a little where the tape doesn’t hold like it used to. you’d printed it yourself. stuck it there with a piece of washi tape covered in little cartoon cats. said his room was “too depressing for someone who’s technically been living here for three years.” said it needed “a girl’s touch.”

he didn’t fight you on it. just mumbled something about “don’t expect me to dust it.” and left it there.

he doesn’t keep it because he’s sentimental. megumi doesn’t really do sentimental—never did. not with the whole absent father, comatose sister, trained-to-kill-by-thirteen thing.

but because it doesn’t feel right to take it down.

you’re mid-laugh in the photo, eyes crinkled, hair blown out of frame, hand half-raised like you were reaching for him.

he remembers the exact moment. you’d forced him to drive you to the mall that weekend because your permit still had two weeks to go, and “you said you liked driving anyway, gumi, don’t be annoying.”

he ended up holding all your bags. stood outside the dressing room with three purses slung over one arm like some exhausted boyfriend from a teen drama.

you guys did a lot of things like he was your boyfriend, actually.

you called him baby when you wanted something. made him tie your shoes when you didn’t feel like bending down. fell asleep on his shoulder on the train back and muttered his name like a comfort.

but it was nothing. always nothing.

he remembers taking the picture. you stood outside the mall entrance, hands on your hips, demanded he capture you “having the time of your life” so you could send it to yuji and nobara, who’d slept in and missed the whole outing.

he’d said, “you still have churro sugar on your lip.” and you’d lunged at him, laughing, trying to swipe the camera.

he clicked the shutter anyway.

he told himself he’d put it away when it stopped hurting.

it’s been six months.

…

you guys weren’t dating.

not really.

but you were close. closer than anyone else ever got to him.

you shared meals when training ran late. swapped bites without asking. you borrowed each other’s notebooks and never gave them back—just let the pages blur between his handwriting and yours like none of it really needed to be sorted.

you shared beds more often than not. after missions, after movies, after long days when your legs ached and your voices were too quiet to say goodbye properly. you’d crawl under his covers and press your cold feet against his shins and he’d grunt, but he never made you leave. not once.

you stole his clothes constantly. not for the fit, not always, but because they smelled like him. like the detergent he used. like the fabric softener you always teased him for buying. he called you a weirdo when you said so out loud, but he still left hoodies at the foot of your bed without asking.

you guys never kissed. never said what you were. never even clarified what it meant when you grabbed his hand in public when you saw a curse in your peripheral or laid your head on his shoulder in the back of a cab or told the first years “we’re a package deal, obviously.”

you’d call him your partner sometimes, in passing. in half-jokes. in introductions.

he never corrected you.

he didn’t think he had to.

…

you died on a thursday.

the curse was supposed to be low-grade. a clean-up job, routine and boring. gojo had tossed the assignment at you both like it was nothing—just another late afternoon errand.

but the intel was wrong.

it always is.

and megumi had blinked and the building collapsed.

he remembered your voice calling out his name. remembered the burn of the rebar slicing across his shoulder. remembered trying to reach you, fingers digging through rubble, mouth bleeding from where he bit his tongue trying not to scream.

by the time he found you, your chest was caved in, and you were still breathing. barely.

you looked at him. eyes wide. unblinking.

you tried to say something, but it was all blood.

…

at the funeral, someone said, “i’m so sorry you lost your friend.”

and megumi just nodded. just clenched his jaw a little too hard and said thank you like it didn’t feel like a lie in his mouth.

because “friend” wasn’t wrong, not really. you weren’t dating. you never kissed. never held hands like a promise. never told him you loved him in a way anyone else would’ve understood.

but “friend” didn’t fit either.

“friend” didn’t explain the toothbrush you kept in his drawer. didn’t explain why his pillow smelled like your shampoo. why your handwriting was in the margins of his textbooks. why your voice was the one he heard when he was bleeding out in a ditch in sapporo, whispering “stay awake, ‘gumi, c’mon, don’t be an idiot.”

“friend” didn’t explain why he hadn’t slept properly in his bed since you died. or why he still caught himself reaching for his phone after long missions just to see if you’d texted made you leftovers. come home, loser.

“friend” didn’t explain the way it felt. this hollow, thudding, gasping-for-air kind of grief. the kind that lived in his ribs. the kind that made his hands shake when he was alone.

you weren’t his girlfriend.

but you were his home.

and now he sits in the second row of your funeral, because the first row’s for family, and he doesn’t know if he’s allowed—and listens to people say how bright you were. how funny. how loyal. how kind.

and not one of them says that you stole his socks. or fell asleep on his chest during horror movies. or kissed his cheek once, when you thought he was already asleep.

not one of them says you loved him, and he’s too afraid to say it himself.

because what if it wasn’t true?

because what if it was?

…

he should’ve protected you.

that’s the one thing he believes about himself, the one rule he learned before he even knew what love was: protect what’s yours. protect what’s close.

and you were so close. you were the closest.

and still, you died.

he’s protected so many people he barely knew.

he saved yuji the first time they met, dragged him out of a curse-ridden school without hesitation, threw himself between a boy and death like it was instinct. he saved nobara from a shikigami she never saw coming. shielded strangers on the street without thinking. saved an entire family during a cursed spirit outbreak in shibuya—faces he doesn’t remember. names he never got.

but he couldn’t save you.

couldn’t save the one thing he’d learned how to love. the one thing he wanted to love right.

and that’s the thing—he did love you.

quietly. selfishly. in the way megumi fushiguro always does, with half a step of distance, with eyes that never quite meet yours, with words that hover behind his teeth like maybe if he holds onto them long enough, they’ll say themselves.

he thought there’d be time.

thought there’d be one more walk home after training. one more shared umbrella. one more look across the classroom where you’d smirk and mouth pay attention, gumi. one more mission where he’d brush a cut on your cheek and pretend his hand didn’t linger.

he thought he’d get to kiss you when you finally cracked, when you finally said, “are we ever gonna make this official, or are you just gonna keep looking at me like that forever?”

he thought he’d get to say yes. thought he’d get to say mine. thought he’d get to say i love you.

but instead—

you bled out in his arms, your body limp, your face slack. your fingers curled loosely around his. he remembers how they twitched once. how he thought that meant something. how he begged the universe to let it mean something.

and still—

he let you go.

…

his dorm at jujutsu high still smells like you sometimes.

lavender and whatever brand of chapstick you used to steal from nobara. he wakes up with your name in his throat. stares at the ceiling like it might give him a reason.

he doesn’t talk about it.

not to yuji, not to nobara, especially not to gojo.

grief isn’t a word megumi uses. grief is what happens to other people. grief is slow and sobbing and needs comfort.

megumi just feels empty. like someone scooped his ribs out with a dull spoon and left him to walk around in the hollow.

he sharpens his blades instead. trains until his knuckles split open. stays behind after missions and scrubs his uniform like a surgeon scrubbing for a second chance—like if he can get all the blood off, maybe yours will go too.

he doesn’t go home on weekends anymore. doesn’t visit tsumiki.

she wouldn’t even know if he did, and somehow that makes it worse.

…

it leaks into everything.

yuji asks if he wants to hang out, and megumi shrugs without answering.

nobara punches his arm and tells him he looks like shit, and he tells her it’s none of her business.

gojo corners him after training with that too-light voice and eyes too bright, and megumi snaps—really snaps, hissing that he’s fine and doesn’t need gojo breathing down his neck every five minutes like he’s still a kid.

gojo backs off, and that almost makes megumi angrier.

…

and at night, you hum.

from the kitchen. from the bathroom. sometimes curled on the edge of his bed, humming that same goddamn song.

he doesn’t know what it’s called.

you used to hum it all the time, absently, cheerfully, with no rhythm. he used to tease you for it. you used to flick his forehead and tell him to loosen up.

and now he waits for it.

waits to hear you brush past the fridge, your voice echoing in the water pipes. waits to feel the weight at the bottom of his bed. waits to hear his own voice, low, raw, cracking open in the dark—

“i miss you.”

“you were right about that restaurant.”

“i wish you’d stayed.”

and some nights—most nights, he just says your name, softly, over and over.

like a spell. like a prayer. like if he says it enough, maybe he can rewind time by syllable. maybe he can drag you back.

and you never appear in front of him, never fully speak, either. but you’re there.

…

the night he breaks, he’s just come back from a mission.

one that went sideways fast. blood in his boots. cut on his lip. something still ringing in his ears. he drops his bag by the door and walks into the kitchen on autopilot, hands shaking, mind fuzzed over.

and he feels it, warm hands, gentle ones, curling around his shoulders. like someone behind him. like you.

and it undoes him.

he doesn’t mean to cry.

he never cries, not really. not when tsumiki slipped into the coma. not when gojo got sealed. not even when he lost you.

but he does now.

his breath catches in his throat and he chokes, and suddenly it’s just happening. hot, and fast, and ugly. his shoulders jerk once. his chest collapses inward like it’s folding under the weight.

and his hands are clumsy—he wipes at his face with the back of his wrist like maybe he can erase the evidence fast enough, maybe if he rubs hard enough it’ll stop.

but it doesn’t. the tears keep coming, and his mouth twists up like it’s trying not to sob, like holding his breath might hold everything in place. but it doesn’t, because it hits him all at once—

that if he somehow survives this life, this job, this curse: he’ll do it without you.

no graduation photos. no first real apartment together. no stupid argument about where to order takeout. no real hugs. no conversations that don’t start and end with silence. nothing.

just this.

just him, in a dark kitchen, crying like a boy again. crying like someone who finally realized what it means to be left behind.

…

you don’t appear fully until spring.

not during winter, when he kept his window shut and refused to let anyone into the suffocating heat of his room.

not during the funeral, where he stood stiff as stone, mouth a line, fists white.

not during the days he walked past your empty training mat and stared until his vision blurred.

but one warm night in march, when the window’s open, and the cicadas scream like they’re mourning too—when he’s fallen asleep on top of the sheets in just his hoodie—

you sit on the edge of the bed.

he doesn’t flinch, just opens his eyes slow, and lets the sight of you fill the room like breath.

you’re still in the uniform from that last day. your shirt is wrinkled. your hair is messy. your mouth is soft. there’s soot on your collar, dirt at your elbow, a shadow of bruising where the rebar cracked your ribs.

you look like you did when he held you as you died.

but your eyes are clearer now. sharper. real.

“you haven’t changed your sheets,” you murmur.

he swallows. “they still smell like you.”

your lips twitch. “that’s gross.”

he laughs, quiet. hoarse. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

you tilt your head. “why wouldn’t i?”

his hands tighten in the blanket. his eyes sting. “because i never said it,” he says. “not when it mattered.”

you watch him. not judging. just listening. and your head tilts, the way it always used to when you were trying not to smile—trying not to make it too easy for him.

your lips twitch.

“then say it,” you murmur, voice low, warm. teasing in that way only you could be with him. your fingers reach toward his face, not quite touching. “say it, gumi.”

his breath shudders, sharp and thin, like you telling him to broke something inside him. like he’s been waiting six months for permission, and now that you’ve said it, he doesn’t know how to hold it.

his throat tightens. his jaw clenches, like he’s fighting it even now—like saying it out loud might make it more real than grief, more permanent than death.

and when he speaks, his voice cracks.

“i loved you,” he says, quiet. “i still do.”

and there’s no thunder. no cursed wind through the room. no flickering lightbulb or veil between worlds tearing open.

just silence. like peace. like relief.

and you smile, like you’d been waiting too.

and then, finally—you reach out. barely. gently. just enough to brush his cheek with the back of your fingers, the way you used to when he came back to the dorm too quiet and too bloody.

you don’t say anything dramatic. just—

“i know.”

…

he wakes before the sun the next morning.

his hoodie is damp, his chest aches, and his window’s still open. the air smells like early summer and night-blooming jasmine.

and on the floor, half-tucked under the bed, is a note, folded, soft.

in your handwriting.

thank you for saying it.

i can rest now.

i love you too, gumi <3

…

that day, megumi showers for the first time in a week.

he stands under the water too long. lets it run scalding until his skin stings and the mirror fogs up completely. scrubs behind his ears. clips his nails. brushes his teeth twice. throws the old towel in the hamper like it wronged him.

he lets yuji drag him into a movie after training. they sit too close to the screen. eat popcorn that’s mostly salt. yuji whispers commentary at full volume and laughs too hard at things that aren’t funny.

megumi doesn’t tell him to shut up. he even laughs, once—during the scene where the main character forgets their keys, swears loudly, and tries to kick open their own front door, only for it to be unlocked the whole time.

yuji cackles like it’s high art. megumi snorts quietly.

but it’s something.

he doesn’t say anything about you. not on the walk home. not when yuji asks “you doing okay?” in that voice that means i’m trying not to make it a big deal.

megumi just nods.

but when he gets back to his dorm, he changes his sheets. pulls the old ones off, carefully, methodically, like ritual. tucks the note you left him, folded and soft from being reread—into the pocket of the hoodie he never stopped wearing. then he balls up the sheets and throws them in the corner.

doesn’t burn them. doesn’t hold them. just… lets them go.

not because he’s holding on. but because he’s finally, finally learning how to let go.

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