#anyway i think i meant for this to have more but i?

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[thebibliosphere]

I probably have hEDS, have had tense muscles since I was 8 and more and more of my joints started to be in constant pain, 10 years spine, 14 years hips, then hands at 19 and now all of them. And though I'm over 40 and don't practice any stretching, I still can contort myself in any direction.

But I don't know if it's worth the energy to fight for a diagnosis? Because it doesn't seem like there is any help, other than mild painkillers and physiotherapy, and I already get that. It is so much work to convince doctors to look into the source of joint pain, as soon as they can rule out rheumatoid arthritis they stop caring. And I don't belive I will get stronger painkillers even with a diagnosis anyway.

Do you think a diagnosis is woth the hassel?

For me, diagnosis was worth it because it meant getting the correct kind of physical therapy, which is often very different from the regular kind you usually get if the physical therapist is good at their job.

Regular PT used to damage my joints more. PT designed to target hypermobility has actually helped build joint stability, retrain my muscles, and reduce some of my pain by lessening the frequency of injuries.

It’s also good to know because hEDS affects more than just your joints.

I have a lot of problems with my internal organs due to how my connective tissue is affected, and my brother, who is undiagnosed but likely affected, suffered from spontaneous retina detachment twice. When I mentioned it to my eye doctor he said, “yeah, that happens to you zebras” and now I get my retinal health assessed every six months because fuck that.

It can also be good to know because of how it affects your care during things like surgery, ranging from which anesthesia they use to the type of sutures required.

When my mother had a mastectomy, she experienced several surgical complications, including not being able to get the wound site to close, so they kept dragging her back into surgery.

When I found out, I told my dad the surgical team needed to know my mother likely had hEDS because I did, and my mother and I are carbon copies of each other. When my dad told the surgeon, he apparently said, “Well, if I’d known that, I’d have done the whole thing differently!” and finally got my mother stitched up properly and into recovery.

In that regard, my diagnosis helped not just me but a family member, but also indicated the type of care I’ll likely need if I’m ever in the same situation.

So, yes, it's a hassle to get diagnosed and some (bad) doctors will frame it in terms of “there’s no cure so there’s no point.”

But for me, it’s not only been worth it but also vital to the management of the rest of my care. And let me be clear, there are some people for whom this is just a crappy joint disorder, and they are otherwise fine. But for many of us, we’re more than just our fucky joints. We’re an entire plethora of health problems that all cascade from our weak connective tissue, and it's important more people recognize that.

So is it worth it for you? That's a you decision. But it was very much worth it for me.

I wish you luck and fewer days of pain. This shit sucks.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: Home

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)

(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 7.1K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3

August 2018

Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer. 

“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”

“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”

“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too. 

When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”

"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific. 

To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze. 

“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”

“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at. 

“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”

“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”

Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this. 

“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever. 

“It’s pretty.”

“You don’t see it do you?”

“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh. 

“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face. 

“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”

“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees  and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too. 

“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”

“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”

“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”

“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form. 

“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”

“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”

“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”

“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”

It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together. 

“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance. 

“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”

“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”

In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight. 

“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.

***

August 2026 

They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together. 

Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy. 

“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out-  and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead. 

“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area,  “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”

It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face. 

On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her. 

“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”

“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull. 

“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws. 

The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time. 

“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”

“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”

Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a promise.”

***

“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”

Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them. 

“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically. 

“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods. 

“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated. 

“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”

Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”

That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that. 

***

The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game. 

“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs. 

It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation. 

“That’s why you still reek of tequila?” 

“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.” 

“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”

They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other. 

“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation. 

Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”

“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous. 

“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused. 

“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back. 

“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.

“So you have thought about it then?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”

“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force. 

“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”

“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”

Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken. 

“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes. 

“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”

Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end. 

“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”

And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”

Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”

“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”

Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side. 

And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”

***

November 2027 

Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic. 

They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part. 

“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.

“Can you pick it up?”

“Do I have to?”

“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button. 

“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”

“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet. 

“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”

“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends. 

“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”

“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”

Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”

“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways. 

“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands. 

Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that. 

“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”

“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words. 

“Paige-”

“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze. 

The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”

“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before. 

“Paige-”

“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA-  it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”

“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze,  “I won’t let you.”

“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”

Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”

“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep. 

“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”

***

January 2028

Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it. 

“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep. 

“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend. 

“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up. 

“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips. 

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles. 

“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation. 

“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”

Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15. 

“I miss you too,” she whispers. 

“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”

“What are you saying Azzi?”

“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever. 

“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because-  Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”

It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”

And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins. 

“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”

“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”

“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.

“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”

*** 

Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.

She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe. 

Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her. 

“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”

“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala. 

“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”

“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”

“You’re never allowed to leave.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”

***

October 2028 

There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship. 

There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.

Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would. 

The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it. 

The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot. 

A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky. 

Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs. 

“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends. 

“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then. 

“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”

“What did you wish for Az?”

“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”

Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course. 

“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended. 

“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?” 

Azzi shakes her head. 

“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”

It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.1 /4 ♡

for puppy!reader, being john booker routledge’s girlfriend meant asking random questions at random times. would you still love me if i was a worm? what would you do if someone tried to kidnap me? who would win in a fight between you and a shark?

what you loved about john b, was that he always had an answer. that was this thing — always having a solution, a plan A, plan B, it was all he knew, so he never had trouble thinking of ways to answer your innocent, inquisitive queries.

it was on a stroll through the neighbourhood, hand in hand when the question occurred to you. this was the first time you’d ever loved someone — so you wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work. sure, you’d said ‘i love you’ to eachother, many times — but you wasn’t sure if you could pinpoint the moment it happened. the moment you realised.

“i thought of a question to ask.” you swing his hand in your own as you walk carefully alongside him, careful not to trip on any loose tiles in the sidewalk like you’d done five minutes prior. you seem to have snapped him out of some thoughts, possibly a conundrum he was facing with the pogues or about some maps, but he seems happy to escape his thoughts — head snapping towards you with a small smile.

“yeah? shoot, pup.”

“when did you know you loved me?” you’re a little quieter today, perhaps timid to ask such a vulnerable question. as you ask he feels your eyes flicker up from your shoes to his hand, up his arm and then to his face. it wasn’t like you to be shy, not with him — which only filled his heart with more of that warm admiration.

“ohoho— that is a good question. one i actually, have an answer to.” he smirks, and you can’t help but grin, already feeling at ease. there was always a story with john b, it was never a simple answer.

“yeah?” you sound hopeful, staring up at his profile as you walk now, trusting him to guide you away from anything that could cause you to trip once more.

“uh-huh. i even remember what you were wearing that day.” he hums, enjoying the element of you having to draw it out of him, although he would have definitely have just told you anyway without any convincing.

“tell me!” you gasp with an elated giggle and he chuckles in response.

“okay, okay— but look, don’t expect anything crazy. it was uh… kind of a regular old moment? you know? like… you’re gonna be confused.” he nods as he gathers his thoughts. you come to a brick wall, one with chipped white paint, and pink flowers sprouting from the overgrown grass around it. you take the moment to let go of his hand and leap, clambering up to sit on top of the wall. instead of telling you to be careful like he usually might, he joins you — sitting side by side on the wall.

“okay.” you ready yourself.

“we’d maybe known eachother for…” he blows a puff of air from his cheeks as he thinks. “six weeks? you’d started coming to the chateau pretty regularly, kind of just showing up without an invite which i didn’t mind ‘cus you know, i was falling for you pretty fast.”

you smile, remembering what it was first like when you were getting to know john b.

“so… you’d fallen out of that tree. you remember? the one out the front, just… dropped right down from the branch. what you were doing up there, i don’t know, i mean i told you not to climb it, but there you were, climbing it anyway… and…” he rambles comically, gesturing you falling from the tree eliciting a small laugh from you, he trails off, thinking back on the moment with a softness to him. “you were wearing this cute little blue shirt and a skirt, and when i was patching you up i remember thinking how blue is like… definitely your colour.” he nods, and you find yourself mirroring his nod, so entranced in the way he speaks.

“anyway, uh — i was patching up your knee, and despite everything you still had your headphones over your ears. i gestured for you to take them off so, you know — i could ask if you’re okay, and uh…” he chuckles, shaking his head. “you said no. because your favourite song was still playing and you wanted to let it finish. yoooou and that damn walkman.” he shakes his head again in faux disappointment as you grin proudly, beginning to remember the day he spoke of.

only then he breaks out of his storytelling trance, turning his head to look at you from where he was staring ahead. “aaaand… yeah. love kinda just… happened? i know for a fact i knew in that moment that i was in love with you.” he finishes, his voice low and warm as he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. john b was never one to shy away from affection— he was a loverboy at heart and this only proved it. you bite your lip, feeling your nose get a little runny like you wanted to cry. noticing this, john b smirks, tilting his head a little.

“what, too sappy? didnt wanna make you cry…” he jokes, reaching over to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb over it like he was wiping the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“it would be a happy kind of cry… because you make me happy.” you’re lost for words, but you swallow down the lump and smile anyway, kicking your legs on the wall with glee.

“well that’s good. i definitely like making you happy.”

[allfearstofallto]

What would yandere diluc or Ayato reaction towards the reader end up pregnant, yandere ayato strikes me as a yandere that baby traps the reader

SO!

This isn't exactly what you were asking for, but I was writing some headcanons of Yanderes with their children, and I don't think I'm going to finish all of them.

But Diluc and Ayato both definitely baby trap, Childe is kinda on the fence about it, and Scaramouche won't do something like that, but if you wind up pregnant he won't be upset.

Anyways! Diluc and his daughter

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere themes, baby trapping, mentions of pregnancy, angst

Diluc & Amelia 

Where Diluc went, so did she. Full cheeks and big eyes, she looked at the world like it was new to her. Because it was, and he wanted to show her it all. Diluc's little helper, the young lady of the house, she was known by many names, but more often than not, she was called daddy's girl. A name she responded to with an open mouth smile and a giggle.

But where was her mother, people would question. Diluc's already quiet wife hadn't been seen since her extraverted daughter was born. Those who caught glimpses of you noticed anger in your eyes and a lack of maternal love for the girl who'd cling to the hem of your dress, begging for your affection. At most, you'd turn and walk away from the girl, leaving her deflated, begging for your return. At your worst, you'd pick her up by the arm, taking her and dropping her into Diluc's lap rather harshly.

“Why do I have to keep telling you to keep it away from me?” you spat at him, not bothering to look at the big eyed face of the girl who was tearfully grasping at the jacket of her father. 

He'd coax little Amelia, wiping tears from little Amelia's cheeks and pushing her sobs, “I told you, you mustn't bother your mother,” even the way he scolded her was gentle. She nodded her head in understanding, mumbling out an apology to both Diluc and you. 

Once out of their sight, you'd cry too, you couldn't stop the tears that ran down your cheeks. She was sweet. With your hair color and Diluc's eyes, most specifically, the fact that she'd gotten your nose as well. Sweetness, you'd call her. Although, never to her face.

If you knew anything about Diluc, you knew he'd do anything to be closer to you. Making you have a child in the first place was one for the ways. His contraception not working meant that you were swollen with his spawn, meaning he'd have no choice but to dote on you for your entire pregnancy, much to your dismay.

The look of excitement on his face, the look of love in his eyes as held her, it made you sick. It disgusted you even. To the point where you were willing to isolate yourself. From him. And from her. A loving mother you wouldn't be. Not as long as her father was the despicable man that he was.

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ YOUR FLOOR'S BETTER THAN MY BED

reo mikage x gender neutral!reader — oneshot.

humor. implied romance. slight tension (if you squint). more of a character exploration.

you and reo mikage were two sides of the same coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe.

— aka, you're a broke mf, surviving on a scholarship, and you find it fun bothering the rich kid in school.

note. wrote this bc i'm actually so broke right now lmfao. i ain't eating breaky and lunch tomorrow hahaha life is so great as a broke college student! 10/10 would not recommend : )

When you hear the name “Mikage” the only thing that comes to mind is money. Call it a stereotypical mindset, but it doesn’t matter because everyone thinks of the same thing as you anyway. You don’t even bother to alter the way you perceive the name either.

Fuck being unique and all that, but really, who can blame you when you’re lacking in that department. The thing that makes the world go round and makes the eyes of people go green whether with envy or whether they’re on the greener side of the grass. Doesn’t matter. It’s the thing that keeps your life at the edge of being “fine” and falling off a steep, brittle cliff to poverty.

Money.

You wonder what it’s like to have an excess amount of it.

“Yo, Mikage,” You wink, sending him finger guns as you pass by his usual seat in the near-empty library.

The infamous Mikage Reo that always had an accommodating smile on his face catches a glimpse of you, and instantly, his lilac irises dulls.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Why so glum?” You cock your head to the side, taking the seat right beside him, legs spread wide and elbow leaning against the backrest of the seat.

You lack the air of dignity that most students inhale in this place like crack. It fogs their senses all the same anyway, and clouding their ability to judge. They get caught up in the image too much that they forget that pictures aren’t alive nor do they breathe. And maybe that’s why they don’t like you. “They” including Mikage.

“You’re probably here to shamelessly ask for money again. And I’m already saying this: no.” He grumbles, pressing his cheek against his palm, gazing into your eyes flatly.

Welp. It’s not like you put in the effort to be likable anyway. Understandable.

“Aw,” You pretend to pout in disappointment. “Worth a shot.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Hah?” You raise your brow at his question.

“Have you gone deaf? I said, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’” He repeats, narrowing his eyes at you.

Truthfully, you heard him the first time. It was just funny to see him annoyed. No picture-perfect genius Reo Mikage. No giant nepo-baby Mikage. He’s just an annoyed Reo.

“I always got better things to do.” You shrug before eyeing him with a raised brow, grinning lazily. “Unlike you.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?!” He stands up from his chair.

Surprisingly, he has a very short fuse for someone who can handle everyone's bullshit.

“Hey, hey, kid,” You raise your hand up in surrender, speaking to him as if he wasn’t the same age or probably even a year older than you. “Relax, I was joking. Sit down.”

With a sigh, he takes a seat again, although the glare was still intact on his face. He grumbles quietly, but it was surely meant to be heard by you with the way he eyes you as he does so. “Don’t ‘kid’ me. At least I don’t waste my time asking people for money.”

“I’m always kidding, Mikage.” You snort at his words, waving your hand dismissively. “Even if you gave me money, I still wouldn’t accept it. What makes you think I’d take stuff from your hands?”

You wrinkle your nose, pretending to eye his hands with distaste. From the corner of your eyes you see him look offended once again and you hold back the urge to cackle.

Being born loved and admired by the people around him—repeatedly hearing songs of praises like he’s some sort of messiah—made him clueless towards teasing and jabs.

“I’m very clean, thank you very much! I’ll have you know that I wash my hands with only the best antibacterial hand wash imported from Italy. What about you?!” He blurts out angrily, bumping the side of his fist against his table.

“Exactly.” You shrug.

You see the anger melt away from his features before it is replaced with confusion.

“You and I,” You lean closer to him and you know he can smell the cheap fruity cologne wafting off the fabric of your imitation uniform. Hakuho was expensive even for scholarship students. “We’re from different worlds, Mikage. And it’s not your fault nor is it mine, because that’s just how it is.”

He turns quiet at this, seemingly mulling your words over inside his head as he eyes the floor blankly.

You tilt your head, releasing a short and awkward laugh. Think you might have made the air too serious. It must be your lunch, or, well, lack thereof. You don’t usually bring the topic (of your lack of money) up with other people, but his question provided you with the opportunity to do so. You took it all too eagerly (carelessly) and it in turn killed the typical playful nature of your not-so-friendship.

“Uh, sorry ‘bout that. For killin’ the mood.” You laugh awkwardly, patting his shoulder. “Uh…”

“What’s it like?” He turns to you suddenly, tilting his head.

“Uh, what’s what like?” You furrow your brows.

“Having no money.”

“Woah, woah, ya didn’t have to phrase it like that!” You joke, crossing your arms and leaning back against your chair with huff.

“N-No, I didn’t mean it like—” He began, glaring at nothing in defense before you cut him off.

“Kidding.” You wave your hand. “You gotta learn how to remove that stick up your ass. I promise you, it feels great.”

He wrinkles his nose in disgust at your choice of words. He’s probably thinking that you lack tact or class.

“You lack class.” He states in distaste.

Knew it.

“Yeah, anyways.” You think over his question for a bit. “Well, I can’t really explain it.”

His lilac eyes dulls as he stares at you flatly once again. “Hah. What a waste of time asking, then.”

“I got an idea though.” You lean closer, grinning lazily as you prop your elbow on top of his side of the table and pressing your cheek against your palm. His face engulfs your perceptions and you can see the non-existent pores on his skin.

Fuck him, his money, and his skin care routine.

“What.” He leans back slightly, raising his brow.

“Come with me later after class. Let’s eat dinner.”

A puff of air escapes his lips as he laughs at your suggestion. A few seconds later, it transforms into full-blown laughing. Each laugh that escapes his lips comes from deep within his diaphragm.

You stare at him expectantly and a little creeped out. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him laugh like that with anyone in your entire life in Hakuho.

“What?” You ask, still spooked.

“Didn’t know you liked me like that,” He smirks, leaning his face closer, breath brushing against your cheek. “If you wanted to ask me to dinner, you could’ve just said so.”

You could smell the slight mint and it tells you that he had just brushed. Figures. Of course he’d bring a toothbrush to school. Of course he actually brushes his teeth during breaks and not spend it fucking around doing nothing unlike you.

“Stop being delusional.” Your face turns blank at his words and you sit properly again. “Anyways, you said you wanted to know what it’s like, right? Come with me later then. We’ll eat what I usually eat for dinner.”

His face turns intrigued. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know.”

“What is this place?” You hear Reo raise his voice over the surging crowd of people. He had a black mask over his face to hide it from the people because, yeah, he was actually kind of like a celebrity. An A-list individual among A-lists, coming just below his parents and it clearly shows with the Gucci bag he’s sporting.

Now that you think about it…

You eye his bag. “Flip your bag over, Mikage.”

“Huh? Why?”

You point to the pockets of his bag exposed out. “You’ll get unknowingly robbed that way. Flip your bag— okay, yep, nice. Very good.”

He rolls his eyes at your childish praise as he removes his bag to flip it, the pockets now hidden from the public’s view.

“Oh, yeah, we’re eating street food.” You point to the row of street vendors covering the sidewalks. Each stand glows yellow from the string of lights attached onto their walls and the strong smell of varieties of food mixes together in an almost unbearable manner.

You eye the rich kid beside you. He seems to shift a little, standing awkwardly and a little out of place.

You reach out to hold onto the side of his arm. “You good?”

He glances at you and looks back at the stalls as well as the crowd of people he mostly towered over. He doesn't shove away your hand. “Yeah. It’s just my first time in this sort of place.”

You blink at this, intrigued. “What? Really? Well, we gotta eat a lot, then. Your treat.”

He doesn’t protest when you begin tugging him towards the nearest Takoyaki stall.

“Ten pieces, please.” You tell the street vendor, beginning to pull out your wallet. A larger hand stops you from doing so and you glance at Reo to see him already pulling out his wallet.

“How much?” Reo asks.

The vendor eyes your classmate for a few seconds and then the Gucci bag. You hold back a groan. Ugh, you already know where this is going.

“1000 yen.” The vendor answers him, his face seemingly unsure.

Just before Reo could unknowingly pay the tricky vendor, you hold onto his hand, preventing him from taking out his cash.

“What are you—”

“That’s overpriced.” You cut in, eyeing the vendor flatly, feeling disappointed at his shitty attempt to scam people. “I ate here yesterday and it was only 500 yen for ten pieces. You mean to say that you’re charging double now? Do inflation rates shoot up that high in a span of one day?”

At least the vendor looks ashamed. He brings a hand up to the back of his neck awkwardly before bowing. “Sorry. Money’s tight and I thought it was worth a shot.”

You chuckle at this, handing the vendor the sufficient amount. “Been there, done that. To him too. But don’t go scamming other people, ‘kay? Now gimme our order.”

Once you take the order, you tug Reo away from the stall to head over to somewhere with less people. You lean back against the wall and open the container filled with Takoyaki and raise it up to his face.

“Smells good, right?” You watch as he takes the container from your hands and inspects the food curiously. He brings it up close to his face, gazing at the array of colors from the bonito flakes, to the mayo, to the sauce, and to the golden brown Takoyaki.

“It doesn’t look that different from the gourmet Takoyaki I’ve eaten.” He comments, taking a pair of chopsticks before eating an entire ball. As he chews, you see his eyes widen and he immediately begins to devour another Takoyaki just as he had swallowed the previous one.

“Good, right?” You grin cheekily.

He ignores you in exchange for devouring another large piece.

“Hey, leave me some too!”

You took him to different stalls after that, and by the time 8PM rolled around, both of you were already stuffed full with different kinds of food. You can’t remember the last time you had ever eaten to the point where you felt like your pants were going to burst open at the seams.

You eye the empty paper plates and containers laying haphazardly on the plastic table you both found. There were a little less people now. You draw in a breath, the air now lacking the sharp scent it previously held as you had submerged yourself in its presence.

It was nice. You also can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten a meal with someone like this. Having deadbeat parents that spent more time smoking crack out where you don’t know ultimately meant that meals were eaten alone. And, you admit, sharing meals wasn’t bad at all.

Reo heaves out a deep sigh, rubbing his stomach after releasing a quiet (and somehow dignified) burp. “I ate too much. Too much unhealthy food. My diet is ruined.”

You snort at this. “Relax, princess. I promise you’re still pretty.”

He glares at you. “Not what I meant.”

“Uhuh, whatever you say.” You chuckle before trailing off, watching him for a few seconds. You can see him shifting in place again at the length of your stare, seemingly burning holes into the side of your face.

“If you have something to say just say it.” He grumbles out, crossing his arms with a raise of his brow.

“Well, did it answer your question?” You ask curiously.

He looks up at the dark sky for a second before glancing back at you. “Well, the food was good. And cheaper.”

You shake your head at his obliviousness and chuckle. “Uhuh, but the food we ate today? That’s typically how much I eat in a span of one week. You get it now?”

He blinks and goes silent for a few seconds again.

“Don’t you get hungry, though?” He asks after a short while.

You shrug. “You get used to it.”

“It’s not sustainable though. How are you still alive?” He cockshis head, now looking at you with a slight furrow on his brows. If he was worried, then you were flattered.

“Not sure.” You shake your head. “I still do try to get my vegetables in but fresh produce is expensive. Healthy food is expensive. Some people just don’t have a choice, you know?”

“Oh.”

You don’t think it has sunken inside his brain yet. You can’t and won’t blame him. He’s lived his life that he’s used to just like you're living yours. You were two sides of a single coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe. Both built differently and built to handle different things.

“But I’m also curious now, too.” You hum after a while, eyeing him in slight interest.

“About what?”

“What does it feel like to live yours?” You cock your head.

You see him grin and your eyes squints a little at this.

"Maybe we can go to my place next."

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 /𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 -- / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ─ AF³⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested -> "wait i love ur fics!! can i request a one shot of azzi (aka sweet angel whose never done anything wrong in her life) and loud & chaotic!reader who were childhood friends and now have the cutest relationship ever?? like a huge opposites attract thingy where reader is a cheerleader and that popular kid, and brings azzi out of her shell? and maybe the team is a bit suspicious at first but just falls in love with their relationship really quickly"

─ warnings | nothing but sweet, good old fluff!!! literally so adorable, my fav thing i've written in a while. my fav trope! oblivious best friends to obnoxious lovers!! the girls being a little skeptical but slowly also falling in love w/ r because she brings out the best in az, mention of a confession but literally nothing else

─ word count | 1.8k

─ ev's notes | i love my azzi baby and she needs more love!!!!! fuck EVERYBODY who doesn't like her cause babygirl is so unproblematic, she's literally an angel and the heart of uconn so FUCK OFF anyways. also i love all my azzi girls sm i had to feed them too, mwah!!!!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THERE HAD NEVER been a time when Azzi wasn't by your side.

Since the day you'd met her back in the sixth grade, she was always by your side. There was never a day where you questioned her loyalty or her friendship. Through the ups and downs of adolescence, through the awkwardness of high school, and into the uncertainties of young adulthood, Azzi remained a constant presence in your life.

She always admired everything about you ─ there was never a moment where she was annoyed by your extrovertness or how much you liked to talk, she actually enjoyed it. Azzi was never much of a talker, she was more of a listener so she liked to let you take the lead in conversations, always content to listen to your stories, your dreams, and your worries. She found solace in the rhythm of your voice, in the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you loved.

While you were the outgoing one, always ready to dive headfirst into any adventure, Azzi was the steady presence by your side, offering quiet wisdom and unwavering support. She may not have been the loudest voice in the room, but her presence spoke volumes, grounding you when you felt like you were spinning out of control.

Azzi's strength wasn't just in her ability to be a steadfast companion; it was also in her capacity for understanding. She had a way of seeing beyond the surface, of understanding the complexities of your emotions even when you couldn't understand them yourself.

In her own quiet way, Azzi was the glue that held your relationship together. She didn't need grand gestures or flashy displays of affection to show how much she cared; her loyalty and devotion spoke for themselves.

"Az!" You shouted as you practically threw yourself into her arms. She laughed as she held you close to her chest, her arms wrapping around your body.

As you nestled into Azzi's embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and happiness flood through you. Her laughter was like music to your ears, a melody that resonated deep within your soul.

It was finally summer and that meant it was her favorite time of year ─ spending every second with you. This was the second year you'd been separated because of college, so it wasn't entirely foreign but this year was a little harder than the last. She found herself missing you and thinking about you all the damn time, literally.

You could think of a couple reasons as to why, and one of them is because you'd both had confronted your long-time feelings for each other.

You both had danced around your feelings for each other for far too long, tiptoeing around the truth out of fear of ruining the beautiful friendship you shared. But as time went on, the pull between you grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore.

The moment of truth came during a late-night conversation at your family's beach house, where words tumbled out in a rush of honesty and vulnerability. Azzi confessed her feelings for you, her heart laid bare for you to see. And to her relief and delight, you felt the same way. It felt like it was out of a movie; everything was perfect, Childish Gambino was playing through the speaker, the air felt just right and the waves whispered secrets in the background.

You pulled out of the hug with a grin as Azzi laughed again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Damn, you're still short."

"Oh my god, we're still on this?" You let out a sigh, despite the sweet smile on your face. You've known each other since you were kids and still, her favorite thing to tease you about was your height.

And it wasn't even that you were abnormally short ─ she was just tall.

"What! I thought you woulda grown, sorry!" Azzi teased as you grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Well, you know what they say, good things come in small packages," you retorted with a smirk, earning another laugh from Azzi.

Azzi chuckled, giving you a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, shorty."

Before you could respond, Azzi's name was being called from behind her. Azzi turned around to wave toward the group of girls, her teammates and friends from UConn. You'd met them one time before and that was at one of the championship games last year, and meeting them was a stretch ─ you'd waved at them.

As Azzi turned to greet her teammates, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness flutter in your stomach. You remembered the last time you had met them, feeling like a fish out of water among a group of award-winning athletes and accomplished individuals.

"I'm right here, guys," Azzi sighed as her friends walked toward her. "Y/N, this is Aubrey, Aaliyah and Nika. Oh, and Paige,"

Paige sent her a glare toward Azzi but before she could retort, Nika nudged her and smiled politely at you.

"Hi," you smiled as you looked up at Azzi for reassurance. She gave a warm smile as she pulled you closer to her side, squeezing you. "I'm Y/N,"

Azzi had never seen you so nervous, it was almost endearing to see. You'd always been the outgoing one, but in this moment, you seemed almost shy and uncertain. It was a side of you that Azzi hadn't seen often, and it made her heart swell with affection.

"You're even prettier in person," Nika spoke as she smiled. The girls all exchanged glances as Nika realized what she had just said, laughing. "What! I mean, we had to stalk Azzi's girl before we met her, it's just part of the process-"

"My god, Nika," Paige laughed as Azzi squeezed your shoulder.

You blushed under their gazes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and flattery at Nika's comment. Azzi's gentle squeeze on your shoulder offered reassurance, grounding you in the moment.

"Thanks, you guys too. I'm a stalker too, don't worry. I'm practically your guys' biggest fan," you joked, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of self-deprecation. The tension eased as the group laughed, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Aubrey grinned. "Well, I guess we're all in good company then."

Aaliyah nodded. "Absolutely. It's always nice to meet a fan."

"Hey, hey. She's actually my biggest fan, cause you know, she's my girlfriend." Azzi cut in as the group laughed. You glanced up at Azzi, your heart practically jumping at the word girlfriend. You were her girlfriend, and it sounded so perfect. You gazed up at Azzi, your eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything felt right.

"Absolutely, I have like 20 different jerseys" you chimed in, unable to hide the fondness in your voice as you leaned into Azzi's side.

Azzi laughed as she shook her head. "She's not joking, she probably has more than me."

"I've been collecting them since high school, cause I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was her biggest fan when she makes into the WNBA," you explained, a hint of pride coloring your words. The admiration and support you felt for Azzi were palpable, evident in the way you spoke about her with such reverence and affection.

"Our reservation is for 8 and it's 7:45, we should probably get going," Nika suggested, glancing at her watch.

Azzi nodded, casting a fond glance at you. "Yeah, let's head out."

With a collective agreement, the group began to make their way toward the restaurant, chatting and laughing as they went. Azzi slipped her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked side by side. With a smile, you squeezed Azzi's hand, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the amazing woman by your side.

At the restaurant, Azzi had her arm around you as the host led the group to their table. You felt a sense of warmth and comfort in Azzi's embrace, the simple gesture serving as a reminder of the deep connection you shared.

As you settled into your seats, the buzz of conversation continued around you, filled with laughter and shared stories. Azzi leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here with me."

You turned to her, a soft smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. "Me too," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

Throughout the meal, Azzi's hand remained firmly entwined with yours, Azzi was at ease as she kept stealing glances your way, her eyes filled with adoration and affection. It was moments like these that reminded you why your bond with her was so special, why her presence in your life was irreplaceable.

Her friends could tell how absolutely whipped you both were for each other, it was obvious by the way you looked at each other.

They were all skeptical of you in the beginning, your instagram seemed too aesthetic and preppy for their taste, but as they got to know you, they realized there was much more depth to you than what your social media portrayed. You were genuine, kind-hearted, and fiercely loyal to Azzi, qualities that quickly won them over despite their initial reservations.

You brought out the laid-back, extroverted side of Azzi they rarely got to see. It was exciting to see, they loved seeing their girl happy and carefree in your presence. Your genuine affection for Azzi was evident in the way you looked at her, the way you made her laugh, and the way you supported her dreams and ambitions.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively conversation with Azzi's friends, sharing stories and laughter as you got to know each other better. With each passing moment, the initial skepticism faded away, replaced by genuine warmth.

And as you walked out of the restaurant next to Paige and Aubrey, the girls followed with smiles on their faces. Aaliyah pulled Azzi close as she caught her eye, a grin on her face.

"We took it up with the counsel and we approve," Aaliyah whispered as Azzi's face contorted into an amused expression.

"Bro, what do mean the counsel?" She repeated as they glanced toward the girls in front of them, who were now laughing at some joke Paige had made. "But thanks, it means a lot."

"We like her a lot," Nika chimed in, her voice filled with sincerity as she glanced back at you and Azzi walking behind them. "She's good for you, Az."

Azzi's heart swelled with affection for her friends as she wrapped an arm around Aaliyah's shoulders, pulling her into a tight side hug. "Thanks, guys. I'm really happy," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That means everything to me."

She was ecstatic that you fit into her life so perfectly (not like she ever doubted your people skills and your charm), and hearing her friends express their approval only confirmed what she already knew deep down: you were the one for her.

As you all walked together, surrounded by the laughter and warmth of her friends, Azzi couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over her.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hestzhyen]

Sunken Ships and SoRiku

Hi internet void. I went feral and maybe you'll read the result.

KH has made a lot of choices around SoRiku from a narrative perspective that, in isolation, wouldn't amount to much. A heart-to-heart here, a questionable line there, and so on. The usual things that one would do to court a queer shipping audience in an otherwise het or unromantic work. And SoRiku circles have painstakingly documented every instance to show something that looks more like a consistent and intentional effort rather than a few dollops here and there to keep shippers engaged. There's... a lot. But one stupid, insignificant thing really shook me up and made me a believer in SoRiku Endgame, Actually.

Silly as it is, it's Nomura's reaction to people shipping RikuNami that gets me the most.

Generally speaking a writer doesn't want to interact with fandom shipping unless it's to urgently course correct. As in it would be catastrophic to the narrative if the fandom had the wrong idea. Otherwise it's best to just take note of how people are interpreting things and adjust the next installment accordingly, or live and let live. Keep distant and don't risk accusations of retconning/bad writing/queerbaiting in bad faith. So the normal reaction from Nomura seeing people get excited over RikuNami would have been to just do nothing. But instead, the scene was patched to downplay the smile, and Nomura went on the record to clarify that it's not a setup for a romantic relationship between Riku and Namine.

That's insane.

Why is it so important that Riku remain romantically uninterested in a girl he'd have a natural connection to, huh? What about accidentally implying RikuNami was so detrimental to the story that it was changed and explicitly addressed like that? Even if it wasn't meant to be, surely letting it play out like AkuRoku did would be enough. Just gently clarify and move on with the story (which pretty much sunk the ship on it's own anyway). You don't wade into fandom shipping and launch nuclear warheads like Nomura did against RikuNami unless you want to leave no room for doubt.

Torpedoing RikuNami also doesn't help them keep up appearances in terms of straightness at this point. Leaving it intact would only help the case of Riku and Sora being bffs with the strongest bond 5ever- a huge boon for the writing team if they wanted to avoid things looking too gay. Nomura et. al. are absolutely aware of the impressions and jokes about how gay KH is. And KH definitely would not be the first series to play in to queer ship teasing for the lols until it's time to pair everyone up at the end.

But they did the one thing you're not supposed to do if you're just aiming to queerbait: undermining the plausible straight ship. You don't eliminate the only straight option for your character like that for the sake of "he so gay" jokes! Having a straight option available vital to make the bait; they don't have to be compelling or important to the story, they just have to exist. Yet at this point, Riku's only option is Sora. They went out of their way to ensure we wouldn't think anything else makes sense for him.

Holy. Shit.

[gglitch1dd]

Good morning, good afternoon, or goodnight!!

I love love love your stories with Y/N, especially when you portray her as someone who is gentle and feminine. With the world today its so hard to see someone just embrace their feminine side and the way you capture it with Y/N is truly incredible. I just finished chapter 6 of "After the Rain" and I'm loving the story. The fact that Y/N while embracing a domestic lifestyle is still willing to do any and everything for her child. We all know how much Y/N loves her children and her family and I was wondering what Y/N would do for them. I was listening to the song LET THE WORLD BURN by Chris Grey and was wondering how far will Y/N go for her family if needed?

With warm sun kisses , Sunshine☀

Awww thank you Sunshine!! This meant a lot to me<3

After the Rain (AO3 link) is one of my favourite stories because of Reader, she's literally a mastermind. I plan to do so much for her if I add more chapters to it. Its such a shame to me that not many people know about it cause I love how smart she is. She weoponises her homemaker skills and what was deemed as her just being "a stupid housewife" to essentially become the leader of Pack A pulling the strings but hiding behind an obedient helpful smile.

Even going as far as to plan the downfall of the Head couple, Eijiro and Katsuki just to guarantee Toshinori's future and safety.

If i do add another chapter to it, you'll see just how far Reader is willing to go for her family, for Izuku, for Toshinori, for the future pups they'll have. She would go to any length. Unlike her rather emotional husband (no shade to Izuku), Reader doesn't think twice about manipulating her pack members and even her own husband to get them in the lane towards survival.

It's why she silently reminds him just how dangerous the world is and why she tries to get him to harden his heart to anyone who isn't in their pack. Reader would sacrifice herself for her pup in anyway, but not in a death way cause she knows Toshinori needs her. She would trade, barter, kill, find, run, jump. Whatever it is, for her son.

I planned for a scene where she actually agrees to sleep with the Head Alpha of a nearby pack who own cows. Now obviously everyone knows who reader is as the Number One hero's wife and so some people really want her for like a power trip. Now Izuku hates this idea but reader tells him to trust her.

What does this girl do?

She kills him before he gets his prick in.

She's a trained hero but she retired when she found out she was pregnant. So she's more than able to handle herself.

Tw: Blood, yandere reader and Izuku, Omegaverse

Izuku looked at you in shock as he stood in the room, the Alpha that was supposed to be probably knot deep inside of you lay on the bed, neck slit and his body still warm. You shrugged. "He tried to go down on me when I told him not to. Only you can do that." You stated.

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know, it was a reckless move on my part, but he disrespected you baby, and then he doesn't listen to me either. We can clean up this mess if we just play our cards right." You started explaining. "His pack will notice he hasn't come back in maybe a week or so, but-"

Your husbands lips on your own made you stop talking. Your eyes widened in surprise as he wrapped an arm around you, his large hands holding you tightly, gropping your skin. You let out a surprised chirp as you felt the strain of his cock against you. A deep groan came out of him as he moved to drag his lips down your jaw.

"That's my girl."

-Glitch1d

[dnpbeats]

OKAY i need to speak on the interactive christmas adventure and how it's a full circle moment, but at the same time so indicative of what dan and phil have created together (retroactively saying, strap in because this got long)

so, to begin with, i can't imagine how it must have been for dan to be making that video with phil. six months prior dan was a fan among many, commenting on phil's videos and tweeting at him. and then this interactive space adventure drops on his birthday. and dan loves it so much he comments on every single path! and tweets phil about how much he loves it!! (okay not the point of this post but i also just need to sneak this in: i just know deep down part of dan felt so special that this was posted on his birthday. and the fact that phil used a song from ff7 and dan commented on it... anyway!) so, needless to say, dan was really into this interactive adventure thing.

so then we all know what happens after that, but fast forward to december. dan, who has been talking with phil for a few months now, who has known him in real life for barley over two, is not just with phil but is collaborating with him. and they're making something that, honestly, for the time was a pretty big production! it's obvious when you watch it that they've sunk so much time into it. there are parts when they talk in unison so you can just imagine them sitting there with a little script practicing it 😭 so think about what a full circle moment it is, that the first phil project that dan profusely expressed his enjoyment of was an interactive adventure, and here he is half a year later making that very same thing with phil!! and also, the fact that it was truly a joint project, even though it was going on phil's channel. in the last scene of the adventure, dan sacrifices himself.

dan: i have to sacrifice myself phil: no dan, please don't! there must be another way dan: but phil, this is not my channel, i'm not even meant to be here phil: don't say that, dan, think about what you're doing

and like, yes obviously this is scripted! but even in the script, when dan says "this isn't my channel," phil says "don't say that." because this was 100% a joint effort. a year and a half later dan stated it was the best thing he's contributed to the internet. idk i just love the fact that one of the things dan really appreciated about phil early on was his interactive adventure, and then six months later they got to make one together, and dan obviously has a very soft spot for it :,)

okay so that's how it came full circle for dan in 2009. but secondarily i want to talk about the fact that i truly think the interactive christmas adventure is the cornerstone of everything dan and phil have accomplished together. "but emma, what about pinof?!" okay yes. pinof my beloved... but also, at the end of the day, pinof was basically just dan and phil shooting the breeze. don't get me wrong, it is foundational as well! the fact that it got so popular really highlights that dan and phil's natural chemistry is a big part of them being a duo and their popularity. and i love a good video that's just dan and phil riffing off of each other.

however, dan and phil have done SO MUCH with their careers that is so much more than just their base level chemistry. SAP, the radio show, books, TWO WORLD TOURS, movies of said tours. because besides the fact that they have a dynamic that's enjoyable to watch, they also create so well together. even their solo things, we know they help each other behind the scenes. they just get each other creatively. but aside from that, all of the aforementioned things they've accomplished together really paved a way for other people in the industry!! other creators (vlog brothers iirc?) have talked about the fact that tatinof was the first Big Youtube Tour and the fact that it was so successful meant that other creators were able to do the same.

dan and phil as people aside, i don't think there will ever be another professional duo like dan and phil. like they ARE the blueprint. and i think that's because they care so much about putting out content that they're proud of, but also because they enjoy what they do. the reason why the interactive christmas adventure was so great was because they put in a lot of effort, but also bc you can tell that they were having so much fun making it. at the end of the day it was just two boys making something together because they could! and they wanted to! and i think their mentality for creating things today is still the same. so yeah, i think the interactive christmas adventure is so so important in terms of d&p as a creative duo. it's the first project in a long long list of amazing things dan and phil have created together, when no one else was doing what they were doing. and the fact that almost 15 years later they're still here, making content together, having a whole career together... oh yeah and also a whole life!! just absolutely wild, and i'm so grateful we're all here to see it

[paintbrushnebula]

Just now realized that we're gonna get to see what Gwen intentionally *trying* to flirt looks like

bc like the few times when she said really sentimental things to Miles in ATSV weren't her intending to be romantic. Like the part where she said "What I always think: You're Amazing" was the most affectionate thing she's said to Miles so far, but that was her being unusually candid out of the heavy emotion she was feeling at that moment, not genuine flirting (at least not to her).

But if she's gonna be trying to make up with Miles and maybe doing some mmhmmhmm rizzing...

And I just think that will be Very Funny to watch.

Because you see the thing with Gwen is that she's not used to being open and vulnerable, so she isn't used to just saying how she feels about someone. I think that's why her love language is physical touch.

This is probably totally me projecting, but I always interpreted that physical touch is Gwen's default way of showing affection because expressing affection with words is much more difficult for her to do. It's like her way of expressing love where words fail her. It's kinda all she thinks she's capable of giving.

(Anyone who knows me knows I'm rather touchy too. With my siblings, parents, family, etc. It's always kisses, hugs, gentle arm squeezes, all that. So I relate to this aspect of Gwen's character a lot)

But obviously, physical affection isn't enough anymore. It's cute and highly appreciated, but it won't reveal everything that lies in the heart, or explain what she believes. It's pretty clear by the end of atsv that Miles will need some words from her. Some good words.

Now what's funny to me about Gwen's rizzing potential is that we've seen what it looks like when Gwen is trying to impress someone without knowing how good her chances are. She tried to make a good impression with Miles' parents, but got really awkward and cringed at herself after every attempt at banter or friendly conversation. This was different from how she interacts with the people at the Spider Society because superheroing is her element. It's something she knows she's good at, so there's no self doubt. But Gwen's a fish out of water in domestic situations. I mean, think about the scene where Gwen invites Miles for a swing around New York. The scene that follows very clearly resembles a date, despite the fact that it's not what Gwen meant when she called him out of his window. I think that Gwen had thought about how this could've looked like she was asking him out, then proceeding to shut down any thoughts like that, denying herself that they were on a date, despite that that might've been where her mind had been. Sidebar, I headcanon that during that scene, Miles did allow himself to pretend they were on a date. But anyway, this moment still has Gwen in her element because she's calling him out to swing around the city as spider-woman. It's certainly not the same as asking to casually hang out in civilian clothes to grab a bite or whatever, which would've been much more domestic, which would've been much more difficult for Gwen to attempt at. Gwen knows what the odds are when she's Spider-Woman, but she doesn't know the odds when she's Gwen Stacy.

Gwen not knowing the odds of something working out is what actively keeps her down throughout ATSV before she returns home. She acted with pessimism, and if the chances weren't high, she didnt want to commit herself to trying something that might not work out in the end--a similar outlook I had and still kinda do have, albeit toward my creative endeavors, not romantic relationships (I don't really have experience in that arena tbh)

But now after ATSV she's throwing caution to the wind with Miles, she's gonna face the music and use words this time. And some of those words, might be romantic! Gwen is gonna have a lot to say to Miles, there's so much she'll want to express to him--has been wanting to express to him for 2 years now! A lot of gushy mushy sweet stuff perhaps! Perhaps some rizzy words, yknow? And knowing Gwen, they're probably gonna have a hard time coming out the way she'd like! And it'll probably be very funny!

for us anyway

Ahh, the mythic struggle beauty of being an introvert.

[zae-heeyyy]

Recalcitrance

Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes

a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!

recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.

You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.

When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 

You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.

After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 

Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 

It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.

Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.

For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.

By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.

You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 

Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.

"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier, holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stringing face.

"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.

"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."

And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.

"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 

Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.

"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.

Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.

Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.

Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.

"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.

"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.

"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 

"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.

"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.

"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.

"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."

You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.

"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.

"She got a funny way of showing it."

"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"

You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 

"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 

"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.

"I know, darlin'."

[lxmelle]

Love is the greatest curse of all… Damned if you love and Damned if you don’t.

What does it mean to be Human? It’s an extremely valid question posed by Yuta. Megumi didn’t think they were heroes and felt he had no option but to make personal choices. Yuji wanted his life and death to have some significance and save people. Todo says they have to keep going regardless of tragedy. Sukuna says it’s best to be unattached to all things as they’re all worthless. Gojo had a dream that was largely affected by Geto - about never leaving anyone alone for the new generation.

Is being human, to know love? Regardless of their strength? Kusakabe thinking of Yaga who helped the sister he loved, in her grief over her beloved son. Larue and Miguel with their love for Geto. The kids and their friendships with one another. Gojo, Yuta - knowing the taste of loneliness. Geto, knowing the taste of grief. The underside of love.

Back to stsg for a moment because that’s my unhealthy obsession brainrot

If Geto loved Gojo enough to tell him, he would’ve led him down a bloody path. If Geto loved him enough to leave him, it’d have led him down a lonely path.

If Gojo loved Geto enough to join him, it would’ve led them both down a morally-/societally-disapproving path. If Gojo loved Geto enough to let him go, it would’ve allowed him to go down a lonely path.

Yuta knew the pain of pure innocent love and how it bound Rika to his soul. But in doing so, he granted her the best happiness she ever experienced in her entire existence. Was it because she had meaning? Her overwhelming love for Yuta meant she could kill and hurt others for the sake of love? What a cursed existence even as a spirit. It hurt Yuta.

He loved her enough to desire not to let her go, but this cursed them both. In loving his newfound friends enough, he sacrificed himself and was lucky to survive it and freed the cursed Rika. But this then led him to bear the curse of loving others … in the endless cycle of “you’re Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t”.

Because Yuta loves and empathises, he sees Gojo. Humanity. Compassion. To be able to connect to those above and beneath his feet, in contrast to Hajime and Sukuna who both pursued strength alone. He understood the weight and enormity of love and the sacrifice that comes with it. He saw the impact of being a monster and the only one who was chained to his role despite being able to supposedly do everything, but actually felt like he could do nothing.

Not the things that Gojo really wanted anyway (ugh. The tragedy of his life T_T). He couldn’t spare Geto. Geto didn’t want to be spared and left him to handle it all at Jujutau High while he tried to single-handedly take on Gojo’s role and change the world.

Gojo was left behind. I think his view of their separation morphed over time too. He wanted to change the sorcerer world too, in a different way that wasn’t as drastic.

Maybe at first he wondered if Geto felt left behind in the face of his unparalleled strength, (the strongest, alone), telling Megumi that he should be strong, keep up and not get left behind. After all, he and Geto had that “talk” breakup and he decided to become a teacher to try and save those who wanted to be saved.

As Megumi grew, he had more students, and Yuta came along, it was about the protection of their youth. Just like he had his blue spring that was so precious to him. It was also what Geto gave him and the reason he had to stop and kill Geto, because he encroached on the principles he tried to uphold himself - not to kill young sorcerers. Geto couldn’t completely abandon all of his humanity and kill Yuta and Gojo spared him the continuous suffering and ended his life.

Then, not leaving anyone behind to be lonely. He would see to it that the next generation wouldn’t suffer like he and Geto and Nanami did.

And finally, he wished to catch up to Geto, after being left behind when Geto chose to become a monster himself.

In Buddhism, detachment is sometimes seen as the penultimate “enlightenment”. But it’s ironic because the more one aspires to become enlightened, the more selfish they inherently become. Because, we do not live in isolation. What is the worth of enlightenment?

Gojo’s enlightenment was costly. He was alone as a tool.

Sukuna’s is disastrous. He embodies a twisted form of enlightenment where he sees responding to love as compassionate through killing his opponents.

Yuta’s is now... tragic.

Megumi had tried to choose who to be compassionate towards. He admired those like Tsumiki who were kind, and like Yuji. Kind - as was Geto. And Yuta. Too kind that they would be willing to sell/soil themselves for the sake of who they loved.

Yuji’s compassion as a vessel was also wholly self-sacrificial.

How does one really retain any form of love or compassion in a world like jjk? When loving anything or anyone seems to cost them dearly? Is that the price of humanity? To love is to hurt?

It’s also interesting how Geto, from human origin, focuses on eliminating humans as the source of cursed spirits... and Gojo, from elite sorcerer origin, focuses on eliminating the higher-ups who were the source of twisted rules within the society.

Anyway. Just rambling a little... I’m still trying to process it all. Jjk is some kind of crazy masterpiece.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Bucky's Hands 🫠 And Angry GIF Racists

Originally I saved these GIFs off of Google and posted them with a similar caption as they have below. Nothin' special. Just meant to be a cute drool-over-Bucky post. It got a few thousand likes, which was neat.

A couple of months and a few hundred reblogs later, the girl who apparently made the GIFS messaged me--very pissily, informing me that since she made them I had no right to post them and how dare I!

I told her I don't see any issue with saving a GIF off of Google to use in a post or embed in a fic, etc. They are simply clips from movies, after all.

She furiously told me to remove my post.

TBH, I was about to ask if she'd be cool with a link to her account for credit (even tho the GIF already had her watermark on it). And if she'dve said no, then I was prepared to delete the post just to shut her up. I figured she was 14 or something. Angry on the internet, what are ya gonna do, right?

But I decided not to say that or do that, when within an hour of her messaging me, about six of her mutuals started messaging me nastily. And then one or more of them began anon-bombing me with hate. At least one of them included racial slurs, ethnic slurs, and wished for/encouragements for me to go self-delete.

Since she or one or more of her friends are such ugly, racist people, I chose to say "bye bye, I will continue unapologetically saving and using GIFs from Google."

Then, to illustrate the point of how stupid she was being, I went and took about 90 seconds - 2 minutes of my time and made. the same. exact. GIFs. Boy was that "unique artwork" hard to make 🙄.

So in case someone don't know my stance on this: I will always credit and never repost other people's paintings, drawings, digitals, sculptures, poems, fanfics, fanvideos, edits, manips, belly button lint weaving pieces, blurbs, and poetry ... but I'm not going to refrain from using a widely-available GIF if the maker of said GIF isn't readily knowable. If they are, great, I'll give credit. If not, oh well.

And if floridamatista (I think that was the name?) or any of your sweet, racist friends ever come across this post, I encourage you to reevaluate your value system in life, that you felt it appropriate to throw out the n word, death threats, and antisemitic slurs over. a fucking. GIF.

The hands, the veins, those thick wrists 🤤 Lord, I did not need a new kink today, but alas I have found one anyway.

(Go ahead and use without credit, y'all. Since they're, ya know, clips from movies)

[risuola]

satoru gojo character & story analysis — all of it began with a miracle.

it's a piece of writing i wanted to do for a long time. it's not fanfiction, there's no reader. it's just his story from beginning to an end ( which i refuse to believe it's the end), it's what i think he was going through, what i noticed and assumed.

contains spoilers. — wc. 2,6k

It all began with a miracle.

A child is born, an anomaly, a little boy that in all helplessness and vulnerability is meant to be the strongest. A baby with hair as white as the snow and eyes as blue as the sky cries out loud, letting out his first few breaths and the balance of the world shifts.

Boy grows up, but without the warmth and love so needed and craved — he’s learning to survive in a world that doesn’t want him. He has looked death straght in the eyes more times than he's met the gaze of his own parents. With a bounty on his little head and with eyes filled with blooming resentment, he must keep his head high because he’s a pride. A treasure of his clan, a bearer of two techniques that did not appear together for hundreds of years. He’s blessed, but the blessing is nothing but a curse.

He knows about curses before he ever sees them. He knows about curses before he learns to write and he faces them while kids of his age are enjoying their time on the playground. It’s fine, his peers wouldn’t understand him anyway. He was fine alone. He was fine.

Years pass and he learns. With people around him, he’s lonely. A burden of power weighs him down, it swallows him whole and he feels alienated. The strongest sorcerer of the new era. The title feels strange on his tongue for years and he doesn’t feel the strongest. He’s a child, he wants to be— he can’t.

He grows arrogant, he grows distant and isolated. Directing his attention to things as trivial as gameboy games and playing cards, he leans towards normality that he craves so much. He finds joy and pleasure in sugary treats, because that’s what make him feel almost regular. But then, he meets someone special. Suguru Geto. A boy just like him, a boy with power that others do not understand. They become friends.

It’s the first time in Satoru’s life that he has a friend and he’s overwhelmed. He’s in love with the feeling of having someone, anyone, who understands him. He craves the time he spends with Suguru, he longs to see the black haired boy, he cannot get enough of him, always texting him, sending pictures, calling. And Geto wanted that too. The dynamic of friendship blooms into something beautiful, it roots deep within him and he wants nothing more, because with Suguru, he feels complete. Because with Suguru, he’s no longer alone.

The sky is blue. The bluest it’s ever been and the sun is so warm and pleasant. The days blend into each other, he doesn’t count them, he doesn’t care. He just wishes to be in this time forever, he wishes for this spring to stay like this because he’s there with him. And there are other people that care for him too? That are not afraid of him, that do not want him dead? He loves it. No matter the curses, he’s untouchable, he’s the strongest. They are the strongest.

But then, the blue sky turns red, the easy mission of protecting the star plasma vessel turns dark and bloody and Satoru dies for the first time. The sound of a blade cutting through his flesh, the feeling of it cutting the tissues and the warmth of his own blood made them dizzy. He falls to the ground and stills. Is it over? He doesn’t know. What’s with the balance of the world, what’s with his world, what’s with Geto?

Throughout heaven and hell, he alone becomes the honored one.

Everything shifts again. His body, as strong as ever becomes even stronger. Toji is gone and he doesn’t know what happened to Suguru. Riko is gone. It seems like he’s alone again but there’s a child on his mind now, a thought of a few-years-old boy somewhere alone. A child whose father he just killed.

He’s in crisis. Amanai’s body is light in his hands, cold against his warm body as he carries her out of the room full of simple humans, blinded by an ideology that is nothing but cruel. He sees the death of someone whom he grew to care about and he realizes that despite being the strongest, he simply cannot save people he wants to. And then, Suguru saves him. There’s no point in that, he says and Satoru listens. The sound of clapping makes him numb. Everything what happened made the shine of his eyes dull out. The blood in his hair feels foreign, the clothes on his body are trash. He’s dirty, he’s tired, he died just moments ago. But he listens. He knows better than to defy. He listens and leaves the cult behind.

The scale shifts again. Satoru is stronger. Suguru is left alone, Suguru feels abandoned and Gojo cannot help. His solo missions and the determination to master his techniques are driving him into oblivion. He still longs for his friend and in fact, there’s nothing else that motivates him than the wish to keep his close ones safe. He’s still himself, he picks all of him up soon, he throws himself into getting more out of what he inherited and he becomes the strongest. He saved Ijichi, but he couldn’t save Haibara.

And he couldn’t save Geto.

Is he the strongest because he’s Satoru Gojo or— what the hell does that even mean? He doesn’t know, but the sight of his closest friend, the one and only, the ride or die, turning around and disappearing into the crowd makes him want to scream. He grieves. He feels like he lost everything he had. The sky has never been so blue again.

He’s just a teenager. A young boy that never got to know love and care and yet, he decides to love and care for a boy, whose father took everything from him. It is, after all, Toji who turned his life into hell — taking the life of Riko, nearly killing Suguru and planting the seed of hatred into his mind. It is Toji who initiated Geto’s change, who initiated his own change. And the boy, Megumi, looks so similar. But Satoru takes him and his sister. Those kids are lucky. Satoru is not a father, but he gives his all to this new role. He doesn’t show it, but he cares.

Years pass by and he becomes a teacher. He wants to change the world he lives in, he wants to make sure the next generations are capable of protecting themselves. He doesn’t want anyone else to suffer as he did. He wants the kids to be strong, he trains them, nurtures them. He’s not the best teacher, he lacks qualities that make him likeable, but he does his best. He thrives in the way his students get better, he loves their smiles, he watches their friendships and he thinks that for as long as he is alive, he will not allow any kid to have its youth taken away. He lives by that statement.

He loses himself.

Lonely in the world, he realizes there’s a long-distant family around. Okkotsu. So Satoru saves him, trains him, loves him. And Yuta loves Satoru back. Things are good for a moment. Megumi grows good — he’s a troublemaker at school but to Gojo, he’s perfect. Tsumiki is in coma, but he cares about her as well, making sure she has the best medical attendance and conditions. For a moment, it’s perfect.

Until it’s not.

Until Suguru Geto appears at Jujutsu High after nearly a decade of absence, looking so familiar and yet so foreign. But his voice is the same, the tone in which he calls Satoru, it’s all so close to his heart. Satoru feels his heartbeat quicken, there’s a pressure in his throat and he wants to scream, but he can’t. Everyone is around, his kids are there, he can’t, he’s the strongest. So he stays there, focuses and he knows that after so many years, the time comes that he will have to make the sacrifice he wasn’t able to years ago.

Satoru blames himself. He did so for years, he felt lonely and guilty. But Suguru looks happy. Is he happy without him? The Night Parade happens. There’s trust. Despite everything that happened, Gojo trusts his one and only friend to not kill innocent young sorcerers because Gojo loves him still. It’s a feeling that’s always inside his chest, a friendship that will never be burned down. He wouldn’t be able to rid himself of it, no matter what happens.

But he kills him. The sight of Suguru so bloodied breaks his heart. The soft smile and light tone of his voice are etched into him and he knows that it is necessary to finish what he started that day in the past, in front of the fast food store. At this point, Satoru is so used to putting himself on the least important position, that he comes to terms with hurting himself if it means to protect his students, the youth.

There’s an importance to a body that he cannot deny. It is so undeniably human of him to want his closest friend to have a proper burial, to not be cut down and burnt as any other sorcerer. Satoru, egoistically, wants to have a place to come to, to talk to, to lay flowers at. He thinks that it’s alright, that it’s his own, that he’s allowed to do this because there’s no one stronger than him, right? He thinks that it’s alright to have Suguru’s grave to himself because that would feel like he still can talk to him, visit him. He takes care of it too. Flowers are always fresh, the candles are lit, the grave is clean and he feels him inside. The dead body filled with residuals so familiar, it puts Satoru at ease.

Until he doesn’t have that much time anymore. Because Sukuna awakens and he has yet another kid to take care of, to fight for. And he doesn’t know it yet, but nothing will be the same again.

Things go downhill from there. Where was he when Sukuna ripped his precious student’s heart out? As he sits in the mortuary, watching Shoko getting ready for the section, he cannot help but blame himself again. He promised to protect that child, he took him under his wing, he trained and taught him, ready to stand against the demon inside and still, he failed. And then, he laughs because this time, it seems like life is merciful. Because Sukuna allows Yuji to live.

Halloween night brings much less luck and he feels like a weapon again. Upon a curtain over Shibuya, he is sent alone because it is assumed that he’s gonna clean all the mess that unraveled. No matter how many people are there, how many curses and how dangerous. He’s the strongest, he’ll deal with it. He has to fight and he enjoys it even, for a moment, until he has to make sacrifice of people that, deep inside, he doesn’t care that much about? He cannot save everyone but there’s a promise in his actions, that he’ll at least exorcise the curses.

He makes a choice. Hanami first. He should’ve gone for Jogo. It’s chaos. And then…

The eyes he possesses tell him it’s Suguru Geto, but his soul knows otherwise. He’s sealed and he knows that he should’ve allow Shoko to dispose his friend’s body properly. But he didn’t want to. And now it was his fault.

It’s not that long for the world to go on without him and still, it seems like it’s close to ending. Satoru gets out but there’s no celebration, only grief. He has become a criminal. Most of his colleagues are dead. Is Nanami’s death his fault? Maybe if he’d exorcise the fire curse first— or Mahito. If not for Mahito both Nanami and Nobara wouldn’t—

Every choice he made in life, that prioritized his own well-being and happiness, backfired tremendously.

And Megumi. His babyboy, his stubborn son is now possessed by Sukuna? Why didn’t he see that coming? Tsumiki is gone too. And Yaga. He struggles to count the losses. A date is set and deep inside his gut he knows what will happen that day. He gives it his all. The mastery of his techniques. His fit body, his strength and all of the battle iq he has. He fights with everything he’s got, he bleeds and hurts, but it’s Megumi he fights for. It’s youth he tries to protect, it’s his son.

He feels alive for a moment, despite all, he thrives in the environment of battle so intense and extreme. He reaches the absolute top of his abilities; he gives it his absolute all. He wants to win, he wants to prove he’s the strongest, he wants to protect those who are important to him. But it’s not enough.

His fight is broadcasted and his death is too. Like a twisted reality show, an entertainment, with all the bloody detail and harsh reality of his situation. His last breath is shown through the screens. He thinks of his students a lot, he wants to show off for them, to teach them that there are levels of power that he wishes them to reach and yet, he fails. Because the levels of his power are simply not enough.

Satoru dies. Alone on the battlefield. He dies by the hand of his own boy, praised by the demon inside him and he wishes he could speak at the final moment. He knows what will happen next.

Five minutes.

He gave his permission. Used to treat himself as nothing but a weapon, he doesn’t care much what will happen to his body once he’s gone. The hope of resting next to his friend is long forgotten, he doesn’t dare to think wishfully, he doesn’t give into his egoism yet again. He wants his team to win and if that means they will use his lifeless body, throwing away his soul, then so be it.

Five minutes.

He doesn’t think much about it when Yuta brings up the topic. Frankly, he has no intention to lose the battle. He wants to take down Sukuna by himself, because if he does it, even if he dies in the process, his close ones will be safe. And he beliefs in them too. He hopes that everything he’s done in his short life is enough.

Five minutes.

That’s how long Yuta’s technique will work.

For five minutes, he’s still being used.

For five minutes, he still has to be the strongest.

It’s five minutes, and he’ll be able to rest.

The last five minutes of Satoru Gojo.

Satoru is a character deeply tragic but built so beautifully. He’s never had anything and yet he lost everything. One by one, he watched his close ones die, right in front of his eyes and he couldn’t do anything about it, even though he was the strongest. A title, almost mocking, stretched throughout his entire lifetime, marking him with powers that made him untouchable but rendering him unable to save people he cared about. His life was a trial, proving how resilient was his personality. Despite the arrogant, joyful mask, there was a deeply responsible man who dreamt big about changing the world but failed.

I’d like to think he’s got to know love, intimacy, the warmth of a touch even as gentle as a kiss to his temple but there’s nothing of such clues throughout the manga.

That is him. That is Satoru Gojo.

a/n. if you made it through this entire text, congrats! i don't expect this post to be read many times, but i needed to get this off my chest because i'm the kind of person who likes to analyze the characters. i have thoughts about most of the characters in jjk, so if you're interested in reading my dissection of someone else, let me know.

also, let's make a biding vow to give our man the fluffiest fics ever, the happiest moments and the sloppiest heads, thanks.