#it's been 84 years . . . 「IC ANSWERED」

[damnedance]

meme tag || always accepting

@historias-multorum's madara:

❛ words are wind, but wind can fan a fire. ❜

sakumo stares at him for a long moment, mulling over the situation and considering madara's words caregully - there was little that could be done, kaguya was a threat too high to abandon the possibility of an alliance, as unlikely as it was.

"indeed." he muses, nodding slowly; picture perfect of calmness. "words are as fleeting as the wind - easily scattered and forgotten."

there's a somber air to him that comes natural to all battle worn soldiers; tired, so tired...

"but just as the wind can fan a fire, our words and actions now can either fuel the flames of destruction or the fire of resistance." his gaze sharpens, determinate "we both know kaguya is beyond anything we've encountered. petty grudges and past conflicts mean nothing if the world itself is at stake... an alliance, no matter how temporary, is the only logical choice."

"let our words be the wind that fans the fire of our resolve to protect our world; together."

[unfinishedjulyrain]

[pin] - Sender and receiver are caught in a small space, causing their bodies to be close together. [iwai & miran]

tension tension tension・❥・@temporalobjects

When her chest was pressed against his and her curves were squeezed by polite hands ( due to the amusing fact that they simply had no other room for movement ) one might think the situation was rather unfortunate, not something you really enjoyed being it. But Miran with all her adoration for the quiet man just inches away from her, could desire nothing more than be this close to him. "Are we really hiding from Botan and Hana?" she chuckled, her own hands sneakily wandering underneath his shirt, feeling the little hairs under his navel. "We might not have a lot of space in this clost but we can make the best of it, right Iwai-san?"

[theautumnpicker]

“ did you want to be alone? ”  

For once, perhaps, he's bitten off more than he could chew. Not only did the bear get a good few swipes in, the blood was less restorative than Astarion had hoped for, and the aftertaste was nauseating. Literally. Astarion had stumbled through the forest to reach the sea before he started retching into the water, but even that provides little relief. There must have been some kind of disease, for he feels foul even now, and he's still bleeding.

The voice that calls out to him startles Astarion. He's not one to be caught unawares, but he didn't think anyone else would be out here at such a distance from any settlement. Then again, now that he's looking in the right direction, he can see the faint outline of smoke against the darkening sky. Some sort of cottage.

"Ahah..." He wipes his mouth to hide the blood, lest she think he's really ill. "Not necessarily? Not if you're a friendly face, that is."

[starsechoes]

what's this? a hulking mass of an android, scooping up his detective in both arms and carrying him to bed? more likely than you think!

"listen, r, i know you mean well but i can't just stop in the middle of it- selene is gonna find out if her dad was really her dad in the next episode or if he was lying the whole time!" yes he's been binging cringey soap operas for the last six hours and yes the sun is about to come up and yes he didn't sleep the night previous but what else was he supposed to do with his full weekend off for the first time in months? rest like a normal personal? hell no. empty chip bags, his half empty coffee mug (which has been refilled more times than he can count), an ashtray with about 3 burnt down joints in it all litter the old coffee table that he has his feet propped up on, a sign he's been posted up on this couch for awhile and doesn't plan to leave anytime soon. 

"just one more episode and then i can-wait, wait the fuck r, don't you dar--" android says nothing, knowing better than most trying to reason with the detective will do literally nothing. gavin sees that look in his eyes just before he's being lifted off the couch like he weighed nothing (to richard, he doesn't) only for detective to squirm a bit in his grip, "just cause you can lift me like a bag a'grapes doesn't give you the right dammit, i'm not tired! one more episode! r, baby, please..."

you can hear him bargaining all the way to the bedroom... // @pluumed

[imaginespazzi]

Part 9: These Moments Of Ours

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

Just crash, it's our time now (to make this work second time around)

(In which a people-pleasing author gives the people what they've been begging for)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff with a little bit Angst

Words: 7.2K Words

TW: Explicit Sexual Content, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Thank you for being oh so patient with me because I know I really made y'all wait and hopefully it'll be worth the wait. I'm gonna keep this pretty short and sweet today so onto the usual. Please keep sending me your thoughts and theories; they're the best motivation a girl could ask for. I did edit but feel free to point out the inevitable typos/mistakes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves :)

April 2030 

UConn 84   Notre Dame 82 

The blue and white section of the Moda Center crowd erupts in cheers as the final buzzer rings through the stadium. Confetti rains down on the court as the UConn Huskies are crowned national champions once again. Paige’s scream is drowned out by KK’s louder whoop as the two of them excitedly wrap their arms around each other, jumping up and down like they’re college students all over again. 

“Oh okay, love the inclusion,” Ice rolls her eyes but it morphs into a grin as her former teammates pull her into their group hug, all three of them making a ruckus that’s drowned out by the crowd around them roaring in excitement. 

“Can y’all be a little quieter. I’m tryna mourn my Irish in peace,” Sonia says lousily, glaring at them in irritation as she fiddles with her clover bracelet. 

“Oh cheer up Citron,” Paige teases her Wings teammate, “at least y’all finally made it back to the Final Four.”

“Fuck all the way off Bueckers-”

“GO HUSKIES,” a loud voice interrupts Sonia’s grumbling as Jana rushes into their section, the Valkyries center smiling vibrantly as she crashes into her old friends, “BLEED BLUE BABY!”

“Bleed blue!” the three UConn faithful chorus back as Sonia glumly saunters over to Maddy Westbeld who had come over with Jana, the two Fighting Irish alum sharing a commiserating hug. 

“This is why everyone finds you Huskies insufferable,” Maddy says with disgust. 

“Because we just keep winning? There, there little leprechauns,” Ice taunts, light-heartedly patting Maddy and Sonia’s heads as both of them bristle and flash the Wings forward with a synchronized middle finger, “I’m sure you’ll catch up to us never.”

Paige is about to join in on the ribbing when KK turns to Jana with a frown, “where’s Azzi? I thought all of y’all came together.”

She shouldn’t care this much anymore. It’s been five years and Paige thinks it’s a little ridiculous how quickly her ears perks up at the mention of her girlfriend, thinks it’s a little pathetic how she leans in closer to Jana, embarrassingly eager to hear the answer to KK’s question. 

“We did. She wanted to go call her parents to check on Stephie,” Jana explains. 

KK rolls her eyes, her face as disappointed as Paige feels, “of course she did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jana narrows her eyes at the shorter woman, a protective edge to her tone.  

“It means that this avoidance bullshit Azzi’s on is pretty fucking tired,” KK sneers. 

“KK bro chill,” Ice steps in immediately, looking worriedly between her two friends as Jana’s eyes flash with fire. 

“She’s checking on her daughter KK. She’s not trying to avoid anything,” Jana’s quietness is in stark contrast with the loud cheers around them and Paige swallows the guilt clawing at her throat. This is their fault. Her and Azzi’s. They’d caused an earthquake in their own lives and the aftershocks had rippled throughout their friends and families, creating rubble where there had once been solid foundations. 

KK laughs bitterly, “she had to check on her daughter right now? The game ended like three fucking seconds ago and she couldn’t just wait?”

“You’re being unfair.”

“Why are you always defending her?”

“Because she’s my teammate and it’s not all her fault,” Jana spits out, eyes briefly darting towards Paige who digs her fingernails into her palm, “it’s not her fault that she doesn’t always feel welcome around certain people.”

“And how about the rest of us people who’d really like to see her once in a while?” hurt tinges in KK’s words, “she can’t put the other shit aside for one fucking second?”

Jana opens her mouth, ready to defend her Azzi again but before she can speak, a calm voice cuts in, “hi guys.”

Goosebumps rush up Paige’s arms as she takes in the sight of the ex-girlfriend. There’s nothing extravagant to Azzi’s outfit, a simple UConn sweatshirt paired with black ripped jeans and minimal jewelry but she looks as radiant as always. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Azzi warily takes in the way KK and Jana are still glaring at each other. Her eyes accidentally lock with Paige and the blonde can see the same guilt of this is our collateral damage reflected back in those dark brown orbs. 

“Hi Azzi,” Ice is the first one to break the silence, wrapping the Valkyries shooting guard in a hug, “how’s Stephanie?”

Paige watches as Azzi’s eyes light up at the mention of her daughter's name, all of her previous apprehension gone as she begins to gush about the little girl, “she’s good. Somehow manipulated my dad into letting her stay up past her bedtime but good. She’s only two years old but already such a damn menace,” the brunette’s gaze wanders over to KK, “I guess that was to be expected huh? Any child of mine was bound to be one.”

KK cracks a half smile, bumping her shoulder against Jana’s as a truce sign, “you call it being menace, we call it being smart as hell right El Alfy?”

“Dude that’s what I tell her every time,” Jana immediately accepts the white flag, slinging an arm around the shorter woman, “Azzi just has genius children. Me, you, Nés and now Stephie.”

Ice gawks at the two of them, “seriously?”

“Well you see Ice, statistically she can’t have all genius children. Someone needed to be average,” KK mocks, high-fiving a giggling Jana. 

“Are y’all seeing this bullying?” Ice rounds on Paige and Azzi, hands on her hips with dramatically wide eyes, “are y’all really gonna let them bully your favorite child like this?”

“We don’t have favorites,” Paige and Azzi say at the same, pausing abruptly at the resurgence of familiar synchronicity between them. They glance briefly at each other, shuffling nervously, before immediately looking away. 

“I hate all of y’all,” Ice pouts, petulantly folding her arms against her chest. 

“Aw cheer up Icey,” Jana pats the top of Ice’s head, “how about a round of shots at the hotel bar to cheer you up?” she turns to Maddy and Sonia, who’d been having their own conversation, with a devilish grin, “losing team’s paying.”

“Y’all are sore winners,” Maddy huffs. 

Paige’s eyes dart towards Azzi, waiting for the younger woman to come up with a shallow excuse like she usually does to get out of having to spend more time with the blonde than necessary. And she knows that it’s unfair of her, knows that it’s only natural for someone to actively avoid being stuck in the same place as their past -thinks only a fool like her could want to be in their ex’s presence- but every time Azzi escapes being around her, Paige can’t help the disappointment that curls in her stomach. 

“Y’all coming,” KK asks, a slight edge to her voice as she twists to look at Paige and Azzi. 

“Of course,” Paige grins, locking arms with Sonia who immediately groans, “I’m not passing up free drinks. Especially not when the Irish are paying.”

“Az?” KK’s eyes are hopeful. 

Azzi bites her lip and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain before she schools her features into a soft smile, “yeah. I’ll come.”

*** 

Paige isn’t sure how it happens. Well actually, that’s not quite right. She definitely has an idea of how it happened. She’s not quite sure when KK, Ice and Jana had had time to devise the plan but she’s certain that’s how it happened. Because really, there’s no other reasonable explanation for how she and Azzi have ended up being the only two people, from their previous party of seven, that are still sitting at the bar. Maddy and Sonia had left first, muttering under their breaths about not wanting to be around insufferable winners. Ice had been the next to leave, making up an excuse about how she wanted to call her boyfriend. Then Jana had apparently needed the bathroom. When she hadn’t returned in a solid 15 minutes, it was KK’s turn. A barely disguised grin and a hard-to-believe lie of  I think Jana got lost, I should go help her on her lips as she’d excused herself to the sound of Paige and Azzi’s protests. 

The two of them sit in awkward silence for a bit until Azzi suddenly bursts out laughing, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Paige regards her with amusement, trying to ignore the way the sound of the younger woman laughing feels like hearing her favorite song come on in the car on a warm summer road trip. 

“You’re a little young to be going crazy,” she remarks. 

“Shut up,” Azzi rolls her eyes, lightly punching Paige’s shoulder, “it’s just- they’re still all really shitty liars.”

Paige laughs, “and they still come up with the dumbest plans.”

“Do you remember when they locked us in the Werth changing rooms when we had that stupid fight-”

“Hey,” Paige interrupts indignantly, “it wasn’t stupid-”

“It was definitely stupid-”

“You asked Carol to drive you to rehab instead of me.”

“Because you had practice at the same time.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being five minutes late to practice.”

Azzi snorts, “more like half an hour and you sure as shit wouldn’t have been fine when coach would have yelled at you and made you run suicides after.”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Paige shrugs, “running suicides would have been worth it for an extra hour with you.”

Azzi stares at her, mouth opening and closing several times before she finally looks away, a soft sigh falling from her lips, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige says, unable to keep the defensiveness from creeping into her words. 

“You are,” Azzi slips off the barstool, “you are and you don’t even know it.”

“Azzi,” Paige curls her hand around the other woman’s bicep, pulling her in to stop her from leaving and it’s a bad idea because now they’re too close and her heartbeat quickens immediately at the fact that if she leaned in just a little bit more, there would be no more space left between them, “what am I doing?”

“You’re- you-” Azzi stutters, gulping as her eyes briefly flicker down to Paige’s lips, “you’re making me feel.”

“Making you feel what?” Paige presses. 

For a second, Paige thinks Azzi might just give in to her heart, might just tell the truth but then something hardens in her face, and the next word that slips out of her mouth has both of them going rigid, “how’s your wife Paige?”

“Az-”

“I should go to bed,” Azzi says firmly, trying to wriggle out of Paige’s tightening grip. 

“Azzi-”

“I have an early flight and I should probably wake up a little earlier than I normally would cause you know Jana’s gonna need me to wake her up,” Azzi rambles still trying to twist her arm out of Paige’s hold. 

“Hold on-”

“Can you just let go of me-”

“I’m trying to tell-”

“I really need to get to bed-’

“Az-”

“I have to go-”

“Azzi I’m getting a divorce,” Paige bursts out; the admission feels light a heavy weight off her chest.

Azzi stops fighting against the blonde’s grip, “oh.”

“We’ve- um-” Paige’s throat feels dry as Azzi’s eyes continue to bore into her, “we’ve been separated for a while and I finally-uh- finally filed the papers a little while ago. So um- to your question- I uh- I don’t know how she is because I- I don’t- there uh- there isn’t- there isn’t a wife.”

There’s silence for a bit as Azzi’s head bops up and down as she processes Paige’s revelation, “I’m um-” she clears her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s your fault,” and that’s not completely true -not when Olivia had repeatedly thrown the past back in Paige’s face- but she doesn’t think Azzi needs to know that, doesn’t want the younger woman to feel guilty for things beyond her control. She’s confused when Azzi flinches, like a memory has just pinched her nerves. 

“Right,” Azzi bites, “I really should- I really should be going to bed.”

Something gloomy settles across Paige’s heart as she nods at the brunette’s words, slipping out of her own chair as they start walking towards the elevator in the lobby. She feels antsy, like she’s leaving something incomplete. The silence rings loud between them as they wait for the elevator doors to open, keeping as much distance as they can from each other. It feels like ages before the familiar ding! finally rings out around them. Despite the abundance of room inside, the doorway into the elevator is rather condensed and their shoulders brush against each other as they make their way inside. Audible sighs involuntarily roll off of their tongues at the brief second of contact as they both shiver from each other’s familiar touch. There’s enough space now that they could easily move away -they probably should move away- but instead they stay pressed together. The sound of their uneven breathing fills the elevator as the doors close in front of them.

“I’m uh- I’m on the third floor,” Azzi says as she presses the #3 button, “you?”

“Fifth,” Paige breathes out, eyes fixated on the goosebumps that appear on the back of Azzi’s neck as her hands shake while pushing the #5 button. 

The elevator jolts up and Paige immediately reaches for Azzi’s hips to steady her, eliciting a small gasp from the other woman. She waits for Azzi to move away but the brunette stays put and Paige doesn’t move her hands. 

The doors open on the third floor. Both of them suck in a sharp breath. 

Azzi doesn’t get out. 

*** 

Paige wakes up to the dreadful sound of her alarm clock blaring around her room. It takes a second before the memories of last night start pounding against her skull. Her body aches in the best way possible. The room is still dark -just like it had been last night- and she closes her eyes, trying to revisit the feeling of Azzi’s lips pressed against her forehead, right before the younger woman -with her hair disheveled and bitemarks littered across her jawline-  had left Paige’s room. 

Paige hadn’t asked Azzi to stay. She wonders if she should have; wonders if Azzi would have agreed if she’d asked. But she hadn’t asked and Azzi hadn’t stayed. She regrets it a little bit. She wonders if Azzi does too. And Paige thinks that maybe that’s just the melancholic truth about their tragic story. 

Maybe they’re destined to always regret. 

*** 

April 2033

Paige thinks Azzi’s guest room air conditioning must be broken or something. There’s no other explanation for why, despite having kicked off every single blanket, she feels like she’s tossing and turning in red hot lava. She feels restless, like she has a purpose that she’s leaving unfulfilled. All the different scenes from tonight are rushing through her head, but her heart keeps stuttering on the last one; an image of the way Azzi had looked at her before they’d kissed good night. 

Azzi had asked her to stay even if she’d hidden it under a lame disguise of it being too late and Paige being too angry to drive home alone. And it’s not completely false that her blood is still boiling, their little encounter with fucking asshole still dangerously lingering in her mind as she thinks of the 101 ways she would have liked to murder him. But they both know that the minute Azzi had run her hand down Paige’s back, the moment she’d called her baby, the moment she’d given her the reassurance she was too scared to ask for but needed desperately, Paige had felt all the anger in her body replaced by that familiar sense of calm only Azzi had ever been able to provide. 

And after that had been decided, they’d both hesitated in the hallway, looking back and forth between Azzi’s master bedroom and the guestroom. Paige doesn’t know what had possessed her, why she’d decided tonight of all nights to play this false chivalrous rule-abiding good girl persona when it was the last thing she wanted to do. Because the last couple of weeks had been hell. The stupid rules had been hell. Going slow had been hell. Having to pull away from Azzi and walk out the door every night when all she wanted to was to lose herself in the brunette’s arms had been hell. But she’d done it for Azzi. She’d done it because there isn’t a thing in the world that she wouldn’t do for Azzi. Except tonight had been different. There had been that look on Azzi’s face -the way the younger woman had bitten her lips, the way her eyes had been hooded over, the way her cheeks had been flushed as her gaze roamed over Paige’s body- and  it had morphed into one of pure disappointment when Paige had said she’d take the guestroom. 

You’re a fucking idiot Paige Bueckers, she thinks to herself as she bolts right up, the image finally burning a little too bright behind her eyelids to continue this façade of trying to sleep. Perhaps it’s pointless. It’s late and Azzi loves her sleep; there’s no way she’s awake. But Paige slides out of bed anyways, breathing unevenly as she turns on the nightlight and walks towards her door. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have any idea what she’d even say if Azzi is, by some miracle of god, even awake. But fuck it, Paige needs to see this through. She pauses at the door, hands wrapping around the cold handle as she gives herself one more chance to back out. Really, she doesn’t even know why she’s so nervous. It’s Azzi. Her Azzi. 

Paige twists the handle to tug the door open. 

Azzi’s eyes widen in surprise, her fisted hand -that had clearly been raised to knock on the mahogany door- freezing in place as she swallows and Paige is mesmerized by the way it highlights the veins in her neck. Her eyes move downwards, fixating on where Azzi’s oversized t-shirt hangs looser on one-side, leaving her right shoulder and collarbone on display. The shirt right above her thighs, giving Paige the perfect display of Azzi’s toned long legs looming beneath and the blonde gulps at the sight. 

“Hi,” Azzi speaks first, the low graveliness in her tone causing a coil of want to wrap itself around Paige’s stomach. 

“Hey,” Paige whispers back, “couldn’t sleep?”

Azzi bites her lip, “no- I just uh-, people always say- like when Jana sleeps over or something- she always says that- that the guest room is um- it’s too cold so I just- I wanted to make sure- wanted to ask-” she clears her throat, taking a step forward as she look earnestly at Paige, “are you cold?”

“So cold,” Paige confirms, moving closer to Azzi so their chests are almost touching. 

“You could um-” Azzi licks her teeth, “you could stay in Stephie’s room-” 

“I could?” Paige asks, pressing herself flush against the younger woman, hands wrapping around her waist. There’s barely space for air between them but she wants to get closer, wants to stitch herself into Azzi’s skin and keep them intertwined forever. 

“You could but,” Azzi’s hand trails Paige’s biceps, causing the blonde to shiver, before finally interlocking around her neck, “I think- I think her bed might be a little small for you.”

“Way too small,” Paige breathes against Azzi’s skin as she nips at the brunette’s jawline, before ghosting her lips against her neck, leaving a trail of mine mine mine down her throat.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice is breathless as she tilts her head, hissing when Paige bites harshly right above her collarbone, immediately soothing it with her tongue, “I think- I think-fuck” she cuts herself with a moan as Paige turns them around, maneuvering them back towards the bed that suddenly looks far more inviting then it had before,  “I just think-”

“You think too much,” Paige says softly, finally removing her lips from Azzi’s skin -she misses the taste of it immediately- so she can smile teasingly at the brunette. 

“Do I?” Azzi grins dopily. 

Paige rolls her eyes, continuing to walk them backwards, “way, way too much.”

They’re forced to a halt when the back of Azzi’s thighs collide against the backframe of the bed. It feels like a turning point, like they could unlock a new chapter or keep themselves on the one they’re already on. And while Paige would really to skip forward, she’ll be okay with whatever happens next as long as the story being written is still theirs, still about her and Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers again -and Paige loves the way Azzi’s lips curl around the syllable of her name- as she bunches the blonde’s shirt in her hands, “make me stop thinking.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Paige promises before they both go tumbling into the mattress, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It feels like they’re trying to meld themselves into each other, like their bodies are carving out an indent of you and i just always feel right against the bedsheets. 

“I want this off,” Azzi breathes out between kisses, hands lifting the edge of Paige’s shirt, “off, off, off.”

“So bossy,” Paige smirks, leaning up off of Azzi to take off her shirt in a tantalizingly slow manner, enjoying the way the brunette’s eyes darken as they glide across her abs first and then her breasts, “enjoying the sho- fuck Az.”

The words are stolen from her mouth as Azzi swirls her tongue around one erect nipple, her hands cupping Paige’s ass to balance the blonde on top of her. She’s always known exactly how to get Paige to shut the fuck up. Paige groans as Azzi flips them over, shifting herself to press her thigh in between Paige’s legs and the blonde can’t help but grind up against it, desperate for some much needed friction, as Azzi sucks a possessive bruise against her jaw. 

“Missed this,” Azzi whispers, as she kisses down Paige’s neck, “and this,” a kiss pressed against her collarbone, “and these,” Azzi presses her lips softly to each breast, “and this,” against Paige’s stomach, “and these,” two featherlight kisses are peppered against her hip bones, “and I really missed these.”

“Azzi,” Paige moans as the brunette’s lips glide across the inside of her thighs, taking her sweet time marking only i could ever make you feel like this against every inch of Paige’s skin. 

Azzi stops right above the edge of Paige’s boxers before slowly peeling them off as sparkling brown eyes staring up at her with a myriad of unspoken emotions that Paige could spend a lifetime trying to memorize, “missed all of this. Missed everything about you. Missed you so much baby.”

Vulnerability echoes in Azzi’s voice as she slowly moves herself back up, hands coming to cup Paige’s face as they press their foreheads together. And it’s not like she hadn’t known that Azzi must have missed her in these last couple of years. But there’s a part of Paige that had thought that there was no way Azzi could have missed her as much as she missed Azzi. Because missing Azzi had felt all consuming, like there was a constant noose around her neck that got tighter and tighter with every day that passed by. But there’s something about the way the words reverberate around the room, something about the way Azzi looks like she can finally breathe again after saying it out loud that it hits Paige; it hits her that they’ve both been suffocating without each other. 

“I missed you too,” she breathes out, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes, “missed you so fucking much Azzi.”

“Yeah?” Azzi whispers, lips catching the lone tear that falls from Paige’s eyes, “how much?”

Paige shudders as Azzi’s fingers teasingly ghost over her wet folds, “s-so much. Azzi please. Need it so bad. Need you so bad.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Azzi repeats Paige’s own words back to her before she finally gives her what she’s desperately been craving, two fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of her pussy as her thumb rubs circles against Paige’s clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, just like that-” a litany of curses waterfall from Paige’s lips as she bucks her hips up against Azzi’s hand, “fuck please.”

“Please what?” Azzi asks coyly, fingers moving at a faster face as she hides a grin against Paige’s neck, “gotta tell me what you want baby.”

“W-want your mouth please- please Azzi-baby please,” Paige begs, writhing underneath her when Azzi immediately complies, lips attaching to her clit as she adds another finger, “fuck Azzi- I’m so close.”

“I know baby,” the words vibrate against Paige’s core, sending another bout of ecstasy shooting up her spine as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach.

“Azz I’m gonna-”

“I know. Let go baby. I’ve got you. I’m gonna catch you I promise,” Azzi whispers. 

And it’s those words, that promise, that sends Paige over the edge, a cry of Azzi’s name falling from her lips. Because she knows Azzi means them for a lot more than just this moment, that those words -the promise- are born out of something deeper than lust. And maybe neither of them are quite ready to acknowledge that yet, not ready to make vows that teeter dangerously close to the ones they watched themselves break in the past, but it lingers between them, like a string made of we’ve always been inevitable connecting their hearts to each other. 

Azzi slowly eases her fingers out of Paige, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the older woman’s stomach as she recovers from her high, before looking up at her with a smirk. Never breaking eye contact, Azzi slips her fingers into her own mouth, leisurely sucking at them as she watches Paige’s face contort with desire. 

“Was I good?” she asks teasingly and Paige growls. 

“How have you gotten better at that? Actually you know what never mind,” Paige shakes her head, “I don’t want to know that.”

Azzi laughs, hiding her face against Paige’s neck, “only that good for you.”

“Good,” Paige tightens her arms around the woman on top of her and then scrunches her face as she feels the material of Azzi’s shirt itch against her wrists, “well this is unfair.”

“What is?” Azzi hum backs. 

“I’m fully fucking naked and you haven’t taken a single thing off,” Paige grumbles as she coaxes Azzi’s face out of her neck, hands gripping the edge of her shit, “take this off.”

Azzi stills, her previous serene expression replaced by something more nervous, as she lifts herself up so she’s straddling the older woman’s hips, “Paige-”

“What’s wrong?” Paige’s senses are on high alert immediately as she rises up herself, maneuvering them so Azzi’s fully on her lap. 

“I just-,” Azzi draws in a deep breath, looking downwards as she chews her lips.

“Hey,” Paige whispers, lifting the younger woman’s chin back up before pressing their foreheads together, “talk to me baby.”

“Can we just-” Azzi plays with the end of Paige’s hair, “can we maybe just-” she cocks her head towards the nightlight on the desk, “do you think we could turn the light off?”

“What?” Paige asks confusedly, “Azzi I’ve seen you naked-”

“Not since- not since I had Stephie,” Azzi interrupts, cowering under Paige’s intense stare, “the lights- the lights were off that one time and the other time I don't think- I don’t think we were sober enough for me to care or for you to remember so can we just-”

“Azzi,” Paige cups the younger woman’s face, “baby there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could make me forget you. Trust me I’ve tried,” she slips her hand under Azzi’s shirt, caressing the skin underneath, “but every time I see you baby, I memorize every little part of you,” she dances her fingertips across where she remembers those stretch marks -the ones Azzi is so afraid of her seeing again- are littered across her stomach, “and whether I’m sober or drunk or something in between, I always think every little bit of you is perfect.”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, something akin to awe coating her voice. 

“Just wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel baby. Please,” Paige wraps her fingers around the edge of Azzi’s shirt again, “can I?”

“Okay,” Azzi concedes quietly, lifting her arms so Paige can finally tug the offending shirt off. 

Paige gives herself a moment to look at the woman in front of her, the woman whose body she’s seen countless times yet she swears that it feels like a different adventure every time. And then she lets herself have a taste, running her tongue lazily across Azzi’s skin, as she slowly maneuvers them so she can hover above the younger woman. A soft smile flitter across her face as she rubs her fingers over the tattoo printed across Azzi’s ribcage. It’s a purple S tattoo, with butterfly wings fanning out on either side. For Stephie. 

Keeping her eyes trained on the darker-skinned , she brushes her lips across the stretch marks on the darker-skinned woman’s abdomen and she hopes that Azzi can read the all of your imperfections are still made for me that Paige is spelling out against her skin. She uses her teeth to pull down Azzi’s panties, smirking to herself when she hears the younger woman's breath hitch above her. Eyes still interlocked with Azzi’s, Paige is purposefully slow as she licks a stripe up Azzi’s folds, relishing the way the other woman’s eyes roll back into her head. 

“So fucking wet,” she hums, “all for me?”

“You know-” Azzi shudders when Paige’s lips brush against her clit, still teasing, “you know it is.”

Paige smirks, “only for me.”

“Please,” Azzi begs as Paige continues to lazily lap at her pussy, giving her something but not quite enough. 

“Say it,” Paige demands, harshly biting against Azzi’s inner thigh as she brings up a hand to rub infinity signs around Azzi’s clit, “say it’s only for me.”

“It’s only for you-” Azzi cuts herself off with a scream as Paige plunges her tongue deep inside her, setting a tempo she knows will have Azzi seeing stars. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige coos as she adds two fingers with her tongue, “always so good for me.”

“Fuck,” Azzi fists the bedsheets, trying to gain some semblance of control as she writhes under Paige’s touch, “feels so good. Paige please.”

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know what you need baby.”

And that’s the thing about them. That’s why it’s good every single time. Because Paige knows every little crevice of Azzi’s body like it’s her own, knows exactly where to touch and how to touch to elicit those little gasps of pleasure that she wishes she could record and listen to on loop. And it doesn’t matter how long they go without each other in between, coming back always feels like home. But as much as she loves the feeling of coming back, Paige never wants to feel it again. Because this time, she hopes there is no in between without each other. She hopes that this time, they both stay. 

“Paige,” Azzi moans again, her name falling from her mouth like a prayer. 

“I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, capturing Azzi’s lips with her own as she continues her ministrations with her hand, “fall apart for me baby. I swear I’ll put you back together.”

There’s nothing quite like watching Azzi come undone and Paige drinks in the sight of the other woman quivering as she grabs the blonde’s bicep so tight that it’s bound to leave a victory mark. Paige coaxes her through it, nibbling at Azzi’s jawline as the younger woman slowly climbs down from her peak, going limp in Paige’s arms. 

They’re quiet for a while, languorously pressing delicate kisses against each other's skin, soft hands exploring all over each other’s familiar bodies as they tangle their legs together; close not being close enough. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Paige whines when Azzi starts to move out of her grasp. 

“I got what I came for,” Azzi teases, “so I’m going back to my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paige scowls, pulling the younger woman back into her chest. 

Azzi laughs, kissing away Paige’s pout as she wriggles out of her grip and slips out of the bed, “relax. I’m just getting something to clean us up with.”

“Well hurry up. I’m already cold,” Paige mewls before letting out a wolf-whistle as her eyes drift over Azzi’s naked retreating form, appreciating the tautness of the brunette’s back muscles down to her perfectly curved ass. 

“You’re 31 years old Paige Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she walks into the ensuite bathroom but Paige can hear the blush in her voice. 

“And you’re hot as fuck Azzi Fudd,” Paige calls out with a smirk, keeping the and you’re all mine as a secret in her own thoughts. 

“You’re not bad yourself Bueckers,” Azzi returns from the bathroom with a smile and a damp cloth as she hops back onto the bed, gently dabbing it between Paige’s thighs. 

It’s a simple act but Paige feels tears prickle at the corner of the eyes. Because it signifies so much more than just this moment. For most of her life, Paige had grown accustomed to the idea that no one would take care of her unless she took care of them first. She didn't know it was possible that someone could reach out first, that they could hold her first without any expectation of anything else in return. Until Azzi. 

“Baby?” Azzi’s voice is wrapped in concern as she takes notice of Paige’s tears, immediately rising up to brush them away, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s neck, shuddering slightly at how earnest the younger woman’s face is, “I really fucking missed you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften as she caresses Paige’s cheek before pressing her lips against her forehead, “I really fucking missed you too.”

***

Paige’s eyes flutter awake to sunlight peeking through the blue curtains of Azzi’s guest bedroom. She groans, shifting to bury her face further into the brunette’s stomach, pinching it when Azzi laughs above her. Lifting her head slightly, Paige can’t help but smile at the woman above her. Azzi’s got her glasses on, a book in her hands as she peers down at Paige with nothing but pure fondness. Something aches in Paige’s chest as countless visions of mornings just like this fill her head. She’d resigned herself to believing that she’d never get this back again, that she’d have to rely on memories of the past to fill the empty void that rattled hollowly against her chest every time she’d woken up without Azzi by her side. 

“Morning sleepy head,” Azzi says softly, putting her book down to brush her fingers through Paige’s hair, “assuming you slept well considering you didn’t even notice when I left to grab my glasses and a book from my room.”

Paige frowns, “you left me?”

“I was bored,” Azzi defends herself, “you were fast asleep and I had nothing to occupy myself with.”

“I can believe you left me,” Paige petulantly accuses again. 

“I didn’t leave-”

“You left me!”

“Okay fine,” Azzi concedes with an eyeroll, “but I came back.”

“Yeah you did,” a soft smile takes over Paige’s features as she leans up to brush her lips against Azzi’s, “you came back.”

“I did,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, cupping the older woman’s face with her hands. 

Paige is about to deepen the kiss, her hands beginning to slip lower, when the sound of a doorbell ruins any chances of putting in motion any of the uncordial ideas that had taken birth in her mind. She groans as Azzi immediately pulls away.

“Shit, I didn’t realize they’d be here so early.” the younger woman curses, hurriedly tossing Paige’s discarded clothes at her, “here, put your clothes on. I’ll go down first while you change.”

“I- I can come down?” Paige asks slowly. 

Azzi crinkles her eyes in confusion, “what do you mean? What else would you do?”

“I just. I dunno-” Paige shrugs, “I just assumed you uh- you wouldn’t want Stephie to know I stayed the night. I figured I’d sneak out of the window or something.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, walking over to grip the older girl’s hands, “you’re not- you’re not my dirty little secret or anything. I’m not- I’m not quite ready to tell Stephie about us- hell I’m not even really sure what we are yet but I know- I know that I don’t want to hide you from her. Besides,” she nudges Paige humorously, “we’re on the 2nd floor babe. I don’t need you trying to climb out the window and breaking your knee before the season even starts.”

Paige watches quietly as Azzi walks out the door. She doesn’t think the younger woman quite understands how much she had needed to hear those words, how much she had needed to not feel like a secret again. It fills Paige with a sense of hope, hope that maybe things would be different this time. Maybe things would be better this time. 

*** 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals from Azzi’s arms as she spots Paige descending down the stairs, “you’re already here!”

Paige smiles at the little girl, tapping her nose over Azzi’s shoulder, “I promised you I’d be here bright and early didn’t I?”

“Very bright and early,” Katie cocks an eyebrow as she smirks at Paige and Azzi, “how did you get here so early Paige?”

“Don’t be silly Nanna. She drove of course,” Stephie says matter-of-factly before scrunching up her nose, “but Miss Buecks. How come your car isn’t outside then?”

“That’s a great question Stephie,” Katie says and Paige thinks the woman’s a little bit too peppy for a grandmother, “why isn’t your car outside Paige?”

“Because-” Azzi gives her mother an exasperated look before fixing her eyes on her daughter, “because Paige slept over last night.”

“Miss Buecks slept over last night?” Stephie repeats. 

“I did,” Paige confirms, glaring at Katie as she snickers in the corner. 

“Mama can you please put me down,” Stephie says finally. 

The little girl looks upset and Paige feels her heart constrict with fear. In general, she doesn’t really do well with people being mad at her. But she definitely doesn't think she can take Stephie of all people being mad at her. The little girl has chiseled herself into Paige’s heart and if she ever left, Paige thinks she’d leave a hole so big, her entire heart would cease working. 

Azzi shares a nervous look with Paige as she sets her daughter down before crouching down to Stephie’s level, “what’s wrong Stephie-bean?”

Stephie’s bottom lip trembles as she looks between her mother and Paige, “you let Miss Buecks sleepover.”

“I-” Azzi looks helplessly between her own mother and Paige, both of whom look just as tense, “I did but sweetheart why is that upsetting you? You like Miss Buecks.”

“I love Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, the little girl's words wrapping themselves around her like a warm blanket. 

Azzi blanches for a second, “I don’t understand then what’s the problem-”

 “YOU GUYS HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME,” Stephie yells, stomping her tiny feet.  

Oh. 

“Stephie-” Azzi says softly, unable to keep the smile off of her face. 

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me Mama,” Stephie sniffs as she turns to Paige with a betrayed expression, “and you Miss Buecks. How could you guys have a sleepover without me?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Paige falls to her knees beside Azzi, trying not to smile when Stephie dramatically turns her face away from them, “we didn’t mean to. It was just really late when we got back from the party-”

“The party,” Stephie cries out, “first you went to a party without me and then you had a sleepover without me. I can’t bel-ieve you guys would do that to me. Don’t you guys love me at all?”

“We’re really sorry Stephie,” Paige says as seriously as she can, reaching out to fold Stephie’s tiny hands into her much larger one. 

“Very, very, sorry,” Azzi echoes. 

“I don’t know,” Katie supplies unhelpfully from where she’s watching the whole situation with pure amusement, “they don’t seem that sorry Stephie.”

“Mom!” “Katie!”

Katie raises her hands in mock surrender as both Paige and Azzi glare at her, “just looking out for my granddaughter’s best interest.”

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says again, maneuvering the little girl’s body to face her, “your Mama and I are very, very, sorry for having a sleepover without you. Please forgive us.”

Stephie looks at the adults kneeling in front of her with a contemplative expression, “you promise you’ll never do it again?”

“Never,” Azzi promises as Paige nods along.

“And when we go to the park today I can get three scoops of ice cream?” the little girl asks, the hint of a smile starting to breakthrough her lips. 

“I don’t know about that one sweetheart. That’s a lot of ice-”

“Of course you can!”

“Paige!” Azzi hisses. 

“And you’ll push me on the swing at the park for twenty minutes?”

“I’ll even push you for thirty minutes if you want,” Paige says and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

“Just had to one-up it didn’t you Bueckers,” she mutters under her breath. 

“And even though Miss Buecks said she’d get me fries at the park, I can get In-N-Out for dinner too?”

“You’re pushing it Stephie-bean-”

“In-N-Out for dinner sounds perfect,” Paige winks at Stephie as a full smile finally overtakes the little girl’s face. 

“You’re hopeless,” Azzi chides the blonde, throwing her hands up exasperatedly but there’s no denying the grin on her face as she looks back at Stephie, “is that all your highness? Are we finally forgiven or did you want to ask us for more unhealthy things?”

“Just one more thing,” Stephie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, “Miss Buecks has to sleepover tonight too.”

Paige and Azzi share a toothy smile with each other before turning to the little girl. 

“I think that could be arranged.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Stephie goes tumbling into her and Azzi, tiny arms somehow wrapping around both of their necks as she pulls them into a group hug. The two adults laugh, cocooning the little girl in between them as she rambles on about how excited she is.  And Paige thinks that when all is said and done, when she looks back on her life, she’ll remember this moment as the one where everything started to finally come together. Right now, with Stephie's arms wrapped around her neck and Azzi’s hands curling around the little girl’s back to intertwine their fingers together, this moment here feels perfect. This moment feels like it belongs to Paige.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Brian Barrett at Wired (02.27.2025):

If you’ve felt overwhelmed by all the DOGE news, you’re not alone. You’d need too much cork board and yarn to keep track of which agencies it has occupied by now, much less what it’s doing there. Here’s a simple rubric, though, to help contextualize the DOGE updates you do have time and energy to process: It’s worse than you think. DOGE is hard to keep track of. This is by design; the only information about the group outside of its own mistake-ridden ledger of “savings” comes from media reports. So much for being “maximally transparent,” as Elon Musk has promised. The blurriness is also partly a function of the speed and breadth with which DOGE has operated. Keeping track of the destruction is like counting individual bricks scattered around a demolition site.

You may be aware, for instance, that a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” online plays some role in all this. Seems bad. But you may have missed that Edward Coristine has since been installed at the nation’s top cybersecurity agency. And the State Department and the Small Business Administration. And he has a Department of Homeland Security email address and, by the way, also had a recent side gig selling AI Discord bots to Russians. See? Worse than you think. [...] Similarly, you’ve likely heard that the United States Agency for International Development has been gutted and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau has been put on ice. All true, all bad. But here’s what that means in practice: Fewer people globally have access to vaccines than they did a month ago. More babies are being born with HIV/AIDS. From here on out, anyone who gets ripped off by payday loan companies—or, say, social media platforms moonlighting as payments services—has lost their most capable defender. Keep going. The thousands of so-called probationary employees DOGE has fired included a significant number of experienced workers who had just been promoted or transferred. National Science Foundation staffing cuts and proposed National Institutes of Health grant limits will combine to kneecap scientific research in the United States for a generation. Terminations at the US Department of Agriculture have sent programs designed to help farmers into disarray. On Wednesday, the Food and Drug Administration canceled a meeting that would have given guidance on this year’s flu vaccine composition. It hasn’t been rescheduled.

Don’t care about science or vaccines? The Social Security Administration is reportedly going to cut its staff in half. The Department of Housing and Urban Development is going to be cut by as much as 84 percent. Hundreds of workers who keep the power grid humming in the Pacific Northwest were fired before a scramble to rehire a few of them. The National Parks Service, the Internal Revenue Service, all hit hard. So don’t make any long-term bets on getting your checks on time, keeping your lights on, buying a home for the first time, or enjoying Yosemite. Don’t assume all the things that work now will still work tomorrow.

Speaking of which, let’s not forget that DOGE has fired people working to prevent bird flu and to safeguard the US nuclear arsenal. (The problem with throwing a chainsaw around is that you don’t make clean cuts.) The agencies in question have reportedly tried to hire those workers back. Fine. But even if they’re able to, the long-term question that hasn’t been answered yet is, Who would stay? Who would work under a regime so cocksure and incompetent that it would mistakenly fire the only handful of people who actually know how to take care of the nukes? According to a recent report from The Bulwark, that brain drain is already underway. And this is all before the real reductions in force begin, mass purges of civil servants that will soon be conducted, it seems, with an assist from DOGE-modified, automated software. The US government is about to lose decades of institutional knowledge across who knows how many agencies, including specialists that aren’t readily replaced by loyalists.

Wired has a solid article on how bad the DOGE-ificiation of government has gotten.

[thefemmefatalexo]

Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 23 - Don’t Make This Weird

Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.

warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying

an: didn’t feel like giving y’all sum to smile about 😒 I’d appreciate some sort of feedback on my chapters cause I really want to know if you guys like this story! Feel free to comment any wishes or speculations for the story! I love you guys. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 22} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @reneinii @magalimachete @mysteriaqueen @linny-bloggs @loveislost @amybarnes21 @1ennj4 @shycreatorreview

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Toji wasn’t used to being ignored.

He could handle fights. He could handle yelling. He could even handle someone pretending not to care — but you? You were different. You weren’t cold. You weren’t angry. You were just… slipping away.

At first, it was subtle.

You still replied to his texts.

You still laughed at his dumb jokes.

You still kissed him — once, behind the gym when no one was around.

But then came the silence.

The distance.

The avoidance.

The first time he reached for your hand in the hallway, you pulled away.

Not roughly. Not like you were disgusted.

You just… stepped out of reach. Said something about needing to get to class. Didn’t look him in the eye.

The second time, he draped his arm over your shoulders after gym, sweaty and smug. You smiled, barely, but ducked out from under it the second you saw a group of girls staring.

The third time, he brushed your hair behind your ear at lunch — a small, stupid thing he liked doing just to see you flinch and roll your eyes — but you tensed. Pulled back. Pretended to check your phone.

And all the while, you still texted him at night. Still let him drive you home sometimes. Still kissed him when no one could see.

It was driving him insane.

You noticed it too.

How quiet he’d gotten during the day. How he stopped teasing you in the hallways. How he stopped waiting for you after class.

But you didn’t ask. Because deep down, you were scared of the answer.

Shoko gave you a look as you slid into the seat beside her in the library. “Are you avoiding your situationship again or are we pretending it doesn’t exist today?”

You sighed. “I’m not avoiding him.”

She stared.

“I’m just… trying not to make it a thing.”

“It is a thing.”

“It was supposed to be nothing.”

“Yeah, well.” Shoko sipped her iced coffee. “It sure looks like something.”

Toji noticed how you smiled at other people now — easier than you smiled at him.

He noticed how you talked to your guy friends like nothing was off, like you weren’t sleeping in his hoodie and laying in his bed and letting him kiss you like you belonged to him.

And maybe you weren’t his.

But you were also not not his.

So when he dropped you off at home after school one afternoon and you barely mumbled a “thanks,” he finally snapped.

You didn’t hear him follow you.

You were too busy trying to breathe, to pretend the ride home hadn’t been drenched in silence so thick it was nearly unbearable. You didn’t glance back when you got out of the car, didn’t wave, didn’t say goodbye. You just walked into your house and shut the door behind you like that might shut him out too.

But it didn’t.

You dropped your bag by the front door, headed for the kitchen, and turned to see him — standing there, in your hallway like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.

Your breath caught. “What are you—”

“Door was unlocked,” Toji said, stepping inside. “Not like you were gonna answer it if I knocked.”

You froze. “You can’t just walk in.”

He ignored that. “I’m not here to play games with you anymore.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“That’s funny,” he said, crossing the room. “You’ve been fighting me every day for weeks. Just quiet about it.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That’s not fair.”

“No?” He laughed, cold and sharp. “You won’t talk to me at school. You won’t let me near you when people are around. You act like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me—”

“I’m not embarrassed of you.”

“You flinched when I touched your hand. You moved away like I burned you.”

You looked down. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You never mean to,” he snapped. “But you keep doing it. You keep pulling away and I keep letting you.”

“Toji, please—”

He ran a hand over his face, his frustration boiling over. “What are we even doing, huh? Because I’m out here walking around like I’m yours, defending you, dropping every other girl, thinking we’re building something. But you? You’re acting like I’m a mistake you regret.”

You felt that hit like a gut punch. “You’re not—”

“Then what the fuck am I to you?”

You blinked, stunned.

“I can’t be one thing behind closed doors and another in public,” he said, voice cracking slightly under the weight of his words. “I’m not built for that shit.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you whispered.

“But you did.”

Silence stretched between you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

Toji stared at you, disbelief flickering in his eyes. “You think that’s an excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth!” You stepped forward. “You weren’t supposed to mean this much. We weren’t even friends six months ago, and now you’re in my head all the time. I don’t know what to do with that.”

Toji’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “So you just… pretended I wasn’t there? Made me look like a fucking idiot in front of everyone?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” His voice cracked now, and that shook you more than anything else. “Every time you smiled at someone else and looked through me like I was nothing — you did.”

“I was trying to protect it,” you said, desperate now. “I thought if I kept it quiet, if I didn’t label it, it wouldn’t get messed up.”

“You already messed it up.”

Your breath hitched. “Toji…”

He looked at you like he didn’t recognize you. Like you were someone entirely different than the girl he kissed in the dark, who curled against his chest in silence and fell asleep with his hoodie wrapped around her like armor.

“Why didn’t you just say something?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Because I wanted to believe you’d come around,” he said, deadpan. “I thought maybe you just needed time. I was willing to give you that.”

He stepped back toward the door, jaw clenched. “But I’m not giving you the chance to make me feel small again.”

“I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

“But you did,” he said, fire burning under every word. “You don’t get to tell me what you meant anymore. All I have is what you did.”

You stood there, feeling yourself unravel.

He turned to leave, his back to you.

And you did the only thing your heart would allow.

You said, brokenly, “I care about you.”

He paused. Slowly turned.

“Then why the fuck does it feel like I’m the only one who does?”

You blinked, stunned. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “I cared. I showed up. I didn’t hide. I didn’t run when it got messy.”

“You think I didn’t care just because I was scared?!”

He looked at you for a long moment — and for the first time, he didn’t look angry. He looked tired.

“You want me to wait around until you’re ready to admit this is real?” he asked. “I’m not doing that. I’m not your backup plan. I’m not your secret.”

You tried to hold his gaze. Tried not to cry. “So that’s it?”

His voice was quiet now. “That’s it.”

He walked out without another word.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

You stood frozen in place until the front door shut, the sound final like a slammed casket.

And then you sank down to the floor, hands over your mouth, and cried like your heart had cracked in half.

You didn’t move from the floor for a long time.

Every second after that door closed felt like a landslide — pieces of yourself tumbling out of control. All the things you hadn’t said echoed louder than anything that actually left your mouth.

The quiet was unbearable.

You didn’t even notice when your phone buzzed. Twice. Then a third time.

You reached for it eventually, hoping—stupidly, hopelessly—that it was him.

It wasn’t.

Shoko:

Where’d you go after school? You okay?

Shoko:

Toji looked like he was about to put his fist through someone’s locker.

Shoko:

Y/n?

You couldn’t respond. You just stared at the screen, willing it to light up with his name.

It didn’t.

You locked your phone and curled up tighter.

That night, your brain wouldn’t shut off.

You kept replaying it. Every word. Every look. Every time you saw something break behind his eyes and did nothing.

You’d pushed him away, and now that he was actually gone, the fear you were trying to avoid—losing him—was staring you in the face. Real. Final.

You stared at the ceiling in the dark, whispering things you should’ve said out loud.

I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.

I care about you more than I know how to handle.

Please don’t hate me.

But Toji couldn’t hear any of it now.

Meanwhile, across town, Toji sat alone in his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

He had a message typed out. A short one. Just your name.

He deleted it.

He opened your last text. The one you sent two days ago about picking up your hoodie from his place. You’d put a heart at the end. A pink one.

He stared at it for a while.

Then tossed his phone across the room.

He could still see the look on your face. That flicker of guilt. The way your voice cracked when you said you cared — like it hurt you to admit it.

And the worst part?

He believed you.

But it wasn’t enough anymore.

He laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. You’d hollowed out a space in his life, and now all that was left was the silence.

The next day at school, you avoided the halls he was in. Your eyes searched for him anyway.

When you did see him — just once, from across the quad — he didn’t look at you. Didn’t even glance your way.

He had his headphones in. Hood up. Eyes on the ground. The same expressionless mask he used to wear back when you hated each other.

It felt worse now. Because this time, you knew what was underneath.

And now you weren’t allowed to touch any of it.

You expected it to hurt — but not like this.

Not in the way it crept into everything. Not in how your mornings started heavier, like gravity pulled a little harder now that Toji wasn’t in them. The minute you woke up, you checked your phone without thinking. And every time, the screen was blank. No new messages. No late-night texts. No “u up?” followed by something flirty or inappropriate or stupidly him.

You’d lie in bed a little too long each morning, hoping some part of the day might feel normal again.

It never did.

School was worse.

You felt like a ghost in your own body — laughing when your friends laughed, raising your hand in class, answering questions, going through the motions. But your head wasn’t there. Not really. It was stuck in a memory loop you couldn’t escape.

Toji brushing against you in the hallway.

Toji walking with you after school.

Toji pulling your hoodie strings and saying, “come here” like it was the easiest thing in the world to want you.

Now, he walked past you like a stranger.

And somehow that was worse than him being cruel. Because you knew how deliberate it was. He didn’t look through you — he looked around you.

At lunch, you sat with people who didn’t ask questions. Shoko was the only one who looked at you like she knew better. But she didn’t press. Not yet.

Still, you knew the others noticed. The way you used to look toward the football tables. The way you suddenly didn’t.

You started skipping the halls where he’d linger. Changed your locker route. Walked the long way to class. You told yourself it was easier this way — that if you didn’t see him, you wouldn’t think about him.

It didn’t work.

He was everywhere. In every hoodie you wore. Every playlist you avoided. Every part of your skin that still remembered the way he touched it.

And he was nowhere.

Not in your texts. Not in your orbit. Not in your life.

Toji went quiet.

Not just externally — not just in how he stopped making snide comments in class or flirting with the girl who sat behind him — but internally too. He’d always had a lot going on in his head, but now it was white noise.

Everything blurred. Everything burned.

He didn’t talk much at practice, even when Shiu tried to get something out of him.

“You alright?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Drop it.”

He trained harder than usual. Lifted more. Ran until his legs went numb. It helped — the ache in his muscles was something he could handle. Something he could control. Unlike the ache in his chest every time he saw you walking with someone else, talking like your world hadn’t just collapsed at his feet.

You didn’t even look at him. Not once.

And that’s when it hit him: this was your choice.

You hadn’t been scared. Not really.

You’d just chosen the version of life that didn’t include him.

He told himself that. Repeated it every night like gospel.

Still, he didn’t delete the photo of you on his phone — the one where you were laughing at something he’d said, hand over your mouth, cheeks flushed.

Still, he slept in the hoodie you left at his place.

Still, he caught himself looking at your empty seat in class.

And every time he did, something inside him cracked a little more.

It was Sunday.

You hadn’t replied to a text in two days. Hadn’t posted anything. You didn’t even want to talk to Shoko — which she took personally, because it was Shoko.

You sat on your bed in yesterday’s clothes, hair unwashed, eyes red from crying again even though you promised yourself this morning you wouldn’t.

When the doorbell rang, you didn’t move.

You assumed it was a delivery or your mom’s friend. But then you heard the quiet thud of boots on the stairs — familiar, heavy. A knock on your bedroom door.

You stood slowly. Cracked it open.

Shoko stood there, arms crossed, sunglasses perched in her hair, her face unreadable.

And beside her, leaning gently against the doorframe, was Nanami’s Reader — calm, soft, holding a bag of snacks and tea, offering you the kind of understanding look that made your eyes sting instantly.

“We’re here,” Nanami’s Reader said.

“For what?” your voice cracked.

“An emotional rescue mission,” Shoko said dryly. “You’re welcome.”

You let them in without another word.

The three of you ended up in your room — you sitting on your bed, knees drawn to your chest, Shoko sprawled across the end like she owned the place, and Nanami’s Reader unpacking the snacks she brought like she was settling in for a storm.

No one spoke for a moment.

Then Shoko said, “You look like hell.”

You snorted weakly. “Thanks.”

“Not a compliment. You smell like despair and fruit loops.”

“I haven’t really… done much.”

“Clearly.”

Nanami’s Reader sat down next to you. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

You stared at your blanket for a long moment.

And then you did.

You told them everything. The texts. The hiding. The kissing. The sex. The night he left. The silence after. Your fears. His anger. Your regrets.

By the time you finished, your voice was hoarse, and the room felt too full.

Nanami’s Reader placed a hand on yours. “Thank you for sharing that. Really.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I think I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” she said softly. “You hurt him. And you’re hurting. But that’s not the same thing as destroying it.”

Shoko sat up straighter. “You didn’t ruin it. But you did stomp on it, spit on it, and light it on fire.”

You winced.

“But,” she added, “that doesn’t mean it can’t be salvaged. You’re just gonna have to stop hiding behind the whole ‘I’m scared’ defense.”

“I am scared.”

“Yeah,” Shoko said, “and? So’s he. Difference is, he still showed up for you. Even when you didn’t ask him to.”

Your throat tightened.

Nanami’s Reader spoke up gently. “It’s okay to be scared. But if you care about him — and you clearly do — you have to show him now. Even if it’s messy.”

“What if it’s too late?”

Shoko gave you a look. “Then he’ll tell you. But right now, he probably thinks you gave up.”

You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t want to lose him.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami’s Reader said. “But you can’t just want him in secret. You have to want him out loud.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Then Shoko tossed a granola bar at your face. “Eat. Then shower. Then text him. Or don’t. But if you mope another day, I’m slapping you.”

You laughed. Barely. But it was something.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 84/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Eighty-Four: Gunsmoke

Harvey woke up with a smile on his face before nudging Gilda. “Gil’, I had the nicest dream,” Harvey whispered. Gilda stared up at the ceiling. “Wait? Have you been awake this whole time?” 

“Yeah… What were you dreaming about?” Gilda questioned. Her voice sounded far away. Harvey turned on his side with a smile on his face. 

“I was sitting on the dock in Metropolis with a little girl that looked exactly like you, and it was sunrise,” Harvey paused to push her hair out of her face. “Are you alright?” 

“I feel a little queasy, but I’m fine,” Gilda whispered. 

Harvey made a soft noise. “Want anything? Vanilla bean ice cream?” Harvey offered. 

“No, thanks. I just want to hear about your dream,” Gilda whispered.

Harvey giggled as if he were a small child telling a secret, and he continued to speak. “We were dipping our toes in the water, and she had this cute little hat on… Like a bucket hat… And she started singing cowboy songs in a sweet little voice. You know, like in Gunsmoke ,” Harvey paused. 

“I’m familiar… I used to have a crush on Festus Haggen,” Gilda replied, “But I’m sure there’s more to this… Go on.” 

“And she says she wants to hold my hand for a while… And I let her… And she looks just like you, but I know in my heart she’s not you. And her hand is so little in mine… I—. She never said anything to that effect, but I knew she was our daughter… And there was nothing more beautiful than that feeling of her hand in mine,” Harvey explained. 

Gilda smiled. “That’s beautiful, Harvey,” Gilda whispered. “You’re really excited, huh?” 

“I’m scared, but I’m not as scared as I used to be after that dream. I think it’ll be nice for us to start a family together. I think my first instinct a couple of years ago was to put it off forever and never have children… But I’m ready. I think I’m ready,” Harvey whispered. 

**

The rain poured down on Bruce’s windshield while Dick sat perfectly still in the passenger’s seat with his eyes closed. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna pull over as soon as it’s safe to,” Bruce replied.

“I feel sick,” Dick mumbled. Bruce placed a steadying hand on the back of Dick’s head. 

“Nervous sick? Or sick-sick?” Bruce asked. 

“Nervous,” Dick answered. 

“I’m gonna get you somewhere safe. Just keep breathing through your nose,” Bruce gently reassured him. But as the rain kept coming, and the person behind them kept driving too close on the wet streets of Blüdhaven, Bruce got a sick feeling in his stomach, too. 

**

Harvey put on a knitted cap and started cleaning the house from top to bottom. He started with the kitchen, scrubbing the oven until it was spotless, reorganizing the fridge and pantry, and getting on a stool to dust the top of the cabinets. He stopped after the kitchen to drape an extra blanket over Gilda while she slept. The silence startled him a little, so he leaned forward and held his finger under her nose to feel her breaths. He smiled as he felt her breaths, and he returned to his feverish cleaning ritual. The bathrooms and bedrooms were scrubbed with an intensity that seemed incongruous to the amount of dirt, but Harvey was on a mission to get the house spotless before Gilda woke up. 

Then, he changed the sheets in the bedrooms, folded laundry, and burned two candles while he prepped for lunch. Gilda woke up to the smell of green tea and lemon. She smiled and yawned. “Harvey?” Gilda asked. 

“Huh?” Harvey asked. 

“Did you clean up?” Gilda questioned. Harvey walked around to the front of the couch and stroked her cheek with his finger. 

“A little bit here and there,” Harvey whispered. Gilda smiled drowsily as she touched his face. “How’s your stomach?” 

“I’m alright now… What’s bothering you?” Gilda asked. 

“Nothing. Cleaning helps me think,” Harvey explained. “Remember when you were an interior designer?”

“Yeah. Why?” Gilda questioned in reply.

“And remember how when we agreed you’d put your time into writing screenplays, I said I didn’t like you at home alone?” Harvey asked. Gilda nodded. “What do you think about a companion dog?” 

“A dog? Harvey, I don’t know. I’ve never had a dog before, and I—.” 

Harvey held her hands. “Are you scared of dogs?” Harvey interrupted. 

“They are unfamiliar… to me,” Gilda said with childlike apprehension. 

“Are you open to meeting a puppy?” Harvey whispered. 

“And if I don’t like him?” Gilda asked. 

“Non-committal. But I want you to keep an open mind. Bruce’ll be here Monday morning with the lady from the shelter, and he’s gonna stay with you while you get a good feel for the pup,” Harvey replied. “Just twenty-four hours with him. For me?” 

“Is that why you cleaned the entire house?” Gilda questioned. 

“No. It just feels nice to clean,” Harvey answered. 

**

Martha sat on a chair with a pillow in her lap as she painted Talia’s toes. “Thank you for letting me do this. Cassie doesn’t sit still long enough for me to do her feet… And then she does ballet, so her little toes are a mess,” Martha giggled. 

“I fear you’ll spoil me, Martha,” Talia smiled. 

“You should be spoiled. You’re the mother of my very first grandchild… And you’re a doll,” Martha smiled, “And Bruce wouldn’t have it any other way. He adores you, and I think he wants everyone else to adore you… Not like a showpiece… You—. You live in his heart, and he hates to admit it, but that’s the most fragile thing about him. His heart will bend and break and burn because that’s all it knows to do. So, he’s very careful about the people he lets in there.” 

“I love him dearly,” Talia whispered. 

“I know. And he loves you,” Martha whispered. 

**

Thomas picked Cassandra up from her extra studio time and hopped on the freeway while Cassandra sipped her smoothie in the backseat. “How are you, sweetpea?” Thomas asked. 

“I’m happy. Mommy said we’re going to lunch with Fern and her mom next Saturday… And Fern let me mirror her as Odile in the studio today,” Cassandra answered. “Why are we going this way?” 

“Because I have to check on Dick and Bruce in Blüdhaven. They might be hurt, but I don’t know that for sure yet. I just know they’re getting checked out by doctors,” Thomas explained. He didn’t like to lie to Cassandra. So, he never did.

“Okay. We’ll be calm for them. Right?” Cassandra questioned. 

“Yup. That’s Daddy’s girl. Cool, calm, and collected… Tell me more about Fern. Mommy said you met her the other day. She’s a little bit older… Isn’t she?” Thomas asked with a hint of concern. 

“Fern is fifteen,” Cassandra answered. 

“Fifteen… Okay,” Thomas whispered with a hint of concern in his voice. “That’s a little old…” 

“Her mom talked to Mommy… And Mommy said it was okay,” Cassandra answered. 

Thomas pushed his glasses up with his palms. “Okay. What do you talk about with Fern?” Thomas questioned. 

“Ballet. She knows everything about ballet… And she has a big lizard at her house. She showed me in her scrapbook. His name is Ord, like in the cartoon with the dragons. She talks about dragons a lot. All her favorite books have dragons, but she says she likes the ocean just as much,” Cassandra answered. 

Thomas nodded. “Okay. Do you understand why I’m asking all these questions, Cassiepillar?” Thomas gently asked. 

“Because you want to know about my new friend,” Cassandra answered. Thomas nodded. He wouldn’t lie to her, but he wouldn’t say more than he needed to. It was one thing to tell the truth about Bruce and Dick being in the ER but this was Cassandra’s innocence he was worried about.

[mariacallous]

If you’ve felt overwhelmed by all the DOGE news, you’re not alone. You’d need too much cork board and yarn to keep track of which agencies it has occupied by now, much less what it’s doing there. Here’s a simple rubric, though, to help contextualize the DOGE updates you do have time and energy to process: It’s worse than you think.

DOGE is hard to keep track of. This is by design; the only information about the group outside of its own mistake-ridden ledger of “savings” comes from media reports. So much for being “maximally transparent,” as Elon Musk has promised. The blurriness is also partly a function of the speed and breadth with which DOGE has operated. Keeping track of the destruction is like counting individual bricks scattered around a demolition site.

You may be aware, for instance, that a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” online plays some role in all this. Seems bad. But you may have missed that Edward Coristine has since been installed at the nation’s top cybersecurity agency. And the State Department and the Small Business Administration. And he has a Department of Homeland Security email address and, by the way, also had a recent side gig selling AI Discord bots to Russians. See? Worse than you think.

Even if that feels like old news, remember that it’s actually still happening, every day a fresh incursion by Big Balls and his cohort of twentysomething technologists. (In fairness, they’re not all young; some of them are old enough to present conflicts of interest so flagrant that they literally lack modern precedent.)

Similarly, you’ve likely heard that the United States Agency for International Development has been gutted and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau has been put on ice. All true, all bad. But here’s what that means in practice: Fewer people globally have access to vaccines than they did a month ago. More babies are being born with HIV/AIDS. From here on out, anyone who gets ripped off by payday loan companies—or, say, social media platforms moonlighting as payments services—has lost their most capable defender.

Keep going. The thousands of so-called probationary employees DOGE has fired included a significant number of experienced workers who had just been promoted or transferred. National Science Foundation staffing cuts and proposed National Institutes of Health grant limits will combine to kneecap scientific research in the United States for a generation. Terminations at the US Department of Agriculture have sent programs designed to help farmers into disarray. On Wednesday, the Food and Drug Administration canceled a meeting that would have given guidance on this year’s flu vaccine composition. It hasn’t been rescheduled.

Don’t care about science or vaccines? The Social Security Administration is reportedly going to cut its staff in half. The Department of Housing and Urban Development is going to be cut by as much as 84 percent. Hundreds of workers who keep the power grid humming in the Pacific Northwest were fired before a scramble to rehire a few of them. The National Parks Service, the Internal Revenue Service, all hit hard. So don’t make any long-term bets on getting your checks on time, keeping your lights on, buying a home for the first time, or enjoying Yosemite. Don’t assume all the things that work now will still work tomorrow.

Speaking of which, let’s not forget that DOGE has fired people working to prevent bird flu and to safeguard the US nuclear arsenal. (The problem with throwing a chainsaw around is that you don’t make clean cuts.) The agencies in question have reportedly tried to hire those workers back. Fine. But even if they’re able to, the long-term question that hasn’t been answered yet is, Who would stay? Who would work under a regime so cocksure and incompetent that it would mistakenly fire the only handful of people who actually know how to take care of the nukes? According to a recent report from The Bulwark, that brain drain is already underway.

And this is all before the real reductions in force begin, mass purges of civil servants that will soon be conducted, it seems, with an assist from DOGE-modified, automated software. The US government is about to lose decades of institutional knowledge across who knows how many agencies, including specialists that aren’t readily replaced by loyalists.

Elon Musk has, at least, acknowledged that DOGE will make mistakes, and promised fast fixes. He even called one out specifically Wednesday, the cancelation of a USAID program designed to prevent the spread of Ebola. “We restored the Ebola prevention immediately,” he said during an appearance at Trump’s first cabinet meeting. “And there was no interruption.”

This is not the case, as The Washington Post first reported. Not only has Ebola prevention not been restored—it was and remains severely diminished—but the Trump administration also said Wednesday it would terminate nearly 10,000 contracts and grants from USAID and the State Department. Many of those contracts represent an attempt to lessen some form of suffering in some part of the world. It’s too many individual stories to tell, too many tragedies unfolding too far away.

It’s worse than you think in the same way that your brain breaks a little when you try to picture how deep the ocean is. It’s worse than you think because by the time the courts catch up the damage will already have been done. It’s worse than you think because the people running the government seem to have no higher mission than to watch it burn.

Federal agencies could absolutely be more efficient, but we’re long past the point where efficiency is a plausible goal. DOGE’s cuts have no apparent regard for civil society or opportunity costs or long-term strategic thinking. Their targets are Elon Musk’s and Project 2025’s targets. They have found no fraud, just democracy at work. They’re apparently eager to see what happens when it no longer does.

It’s worse than you think because so far all DOGE has done is drop a boulder into the middle of a pond. If you think this is bad, wait for the ripples.

[ddelline]

so to summarize where we’re at post ch261

beneath cut bc leaks have been out for literally an hour and I’m not a complete fckass

1. nanami chōsō gojō gone

2. nobara awol since 1867

3. megumi serving life in sukuna max penitentiary (also awol since ch252)

4. yuta on track to d*e within the next 5 canon mins

5. kenjaku *eaten*

6. uraume & hakari trapped in a never ending pachinko loop on an ice block courtesy of their respective CT (or w/e I don’t remember where they left off it’s been 84 years)

(7. (bonus point) reflecting the exact number of times we’ve been exposed to the stsg kfc breakup scene in the manga now, considering ch261. gege may be on track to murder every single member of his main cast but you’ll have to pry the doomed yaoi out of his cold unfeeling hands)

WHO IS LEFT AT THIS POINT GEGE

who’s gonna be there w yūji at the end!!!!

gege!!! answer me!!!

[damnedance]

meme tag || always accepting

@firebloodicee's cersei:

❛ you’ll find someone new ; you always do. ❜

jaime ( or rather whatever is left of him, more of a shadow of the man he was before losing his dominant hand ) stops and stares at cersei, almost with disbelief

"what are you talking about?" his face contorts in a frown, green eyes searching hers; unsure, cersei always takes reins of things, did she not? he dreads to think where this is going. "i have no wish to find anyone else, no need for anyone else - i am on your side, our side..." he takes a step closer to her, tentative, but when he can't meet her eyes his frown deepens.

"cersei, look at me." he grabs her chin between his remaining fingers, gentle but firm, forcing her to look into his eyes. he wonders what on earth is she talking about... brienne?

[fxdltc88]

James Vernor was a junior clerk at Higby and Sterns’ Drug Store in Detroit when he enlisted in the 4th Michigan Cavalry and was called to fight in the Civil War. At the time (according to company lore), he was experimenting with a stomach calming tonic of vanilla, spices and ginger, which he left behind in an oak cask. When Vernor returned four years later, he found that his elixir had transformed into a zesty, sweet, gingery drink complimented by the wood’s aging process. Soon after, Vernor opened his own pharmacy 235 Woodward Avenue, and its soda fountain became the first – and only! – place in the world to buy Vernor’s ginger ale in 1866.

Vernor was admired as a pharmacist. He closely scrutinized his prescriptions for quality, accuracy, and possible drug interactions. Vernor was meticulous about his work. Everything he did needed to meet his high standards. He served on the State Board of Pharmacy for eight years and was one of the driving forces to pass the state's first pharmacy law. He held Michigan's pharmacy license #1 all the years he practiced.

Like all good pharmacists, Vernor also had a soda fountain in his drug store.

As demand grew, Vernor began to sell his product to other Detroit soda fountains, but required that vendors purchase special equipment to serve the soda in order to ensure its quality. After gaining enough fame, Vernor was able to sell his soda throughout the Midwest. In 1896, he closed his pharmacy and opened a bottling plant at the foot of Woodward so that Vernors could be mass produced. 

James Vernor passed away at the age of 84 in 1927. The Vernor family was once asked when the first Mr. Vernor retired from business. The answer was, "A few hours before he died." He was a hard-working and energetic man. One that made his mark on the city of Detroit with both business and civic contributions.

The second James Vernor came into the business as early as he could, working alongside his father in the old drug store. In the beginning, the father and son team were the only employees. They often worked 16 hour days together washing bottles, making and bottling the ginger ale, delivering it to various sites in the city, and taking care of clerical duties. He was born in Detroit on March 25, 1877. It wasn't until his father died in 1927, though, that he became President of the James Vernor Company. It was in a great way due to the second James Vernor's influence and style that the company grew into an international organization. In 1896, James Vernor II entered the business and his father decided to concentrate full time on ginger ale.

The same standards that had been applied to the consistency of his prescriptions were applied to the consistency of Vernor's Ginger Ale. The water had to be specially purified. The blending needed the finest Jamaican Ginger distilled in the absolute proper proportion with other fruit juices. Even the carbonic gas used was produced by Vernor so it would meet their requirements.

In 1896, James Vernor II entered the business and his father decided to concentrate full time on ginger ale.

The drug store was closed in 1896 and a small plant established at the foot of Woodward Avenue, several blocks from his former drug store's location. The plant was devoted to the blending, aging, and bottling of Vernor's Ginger Ale.

In 1918, Vernor purchased the old Riverside Power Plant. In 1919 a six story main building was erected adjacent to the other two. In 1939, the 10-story Siegel building was purchased and renovated. In 1941, the "most modern bottling facility in the world" was completed at 239 Woodward Avenue.

The plant also had a spectacular soda fountain. Everyone who lived in Detroit in the 1940's and 1950's has a story about going to the Vernor's soda fountain, usually before or after a ride on the Bob-lo Boat. One of the favorite drinks to have was a Boston Cooler. The drink is a milkshake-like mixture of Vernor's and vanilla ice cream. Contrary to many incorrect web sites, the Boston Cooler is not named after Boston Boulevard in Detroit. At that period of time, any soda pop mixed with ice cream was called a Boston Cooler. So, you could have a Hire's Boston Cooler or a Vernor's Boston Cooler. Vernor's copyrighted the name in the late 1960’s.

James Vernor II had a son; another James Vernor. James Vernor III also had a son; James Vernor. Yet, the company did not pass on to either one of them. It is impossible to predict if the company would have remained in the family if either had been president. J. Vernor Davis, the grandson of the founder, took over the presidency of the company.

The James Vernor Company had always been a family owned company. The death of James Vernor II in 1954 forced the company to sell some stock to the public. In 1957, James Vernor III died. His majority ownership of Vernor’s went through a court battle and was ultimately sold to investors. As a result, Vernor’s was no longer in the hands of the founding family. Vernor's became Vernors in 1959. (Note the lack of the apostrophe between the 'r' and the 's'.)

Vernor Davis had been with the firm since 1931. Prior to the death of his uncle, he became president of the company, in 1952. James Vernor III was concurrently named vice president. Under Davis' leadership, company sales grew tremendously. A stockholder's annual report from 1963 indicates sales grew from just over $6,000,000 in 1961 to over $9,000,000 in 1963.

In 1966, the one hundredth birthday of the James Vernor Company, Davis became chairman of the board. That same year, Vernors was sold to another group of investors, members of the New York Stock Exchange. The company would soon go through a number of different owners.

Again in 1971, Vernors was sold to American Consumer Products. By 1979, another company, United Brands, owned Vernors. This ownership would be the one most costly to the City of Detroit. In January of 1985, Cincinnati-based United Brands abruptly ended bottling operations at the plant.

The property was purchased in 1986 by Shula Associates, who had plans to knock it down for a shopping mall. The plant was eventually demolished in 1987. A high-rise apartment building for Wayne State University is now on the Cass Avenue side of the site. On the Woodward frontage, a four story apartment complex with first floor retail space has been built. The property is directly north of the Whitney Restaurant and two properties north of Hop Cat Detroit.

Just two years after abandoning Detroit, United Brands sold Vernors to A & W Brands. All of A & W was subsequently purchased by Dr. Pepper/Cadbury in 1993. In 1996, Dr. Pepper/Cadbury merged with 7UP and moved to Plano. Cadbury continued to own Vernor's until stock holders made the candy company give up the beverage firm. Dr Pepper Snapple was born! The company merged with Keurig and is now Keurig Dr Pepper. The company has been very supportive of the Vernor's brand.

[euclydya]

Part 9 babeyyyyyy

81. Which is your favourite plural flag? - Probably Kenochoric's tbh

^ is nice to lookie at .

82. If you have one, which is your favourite plurality related tumblr blog? - i dont think we have a favourite actually FHJDSJDJ

83. What is a fun fact about your System? - To deal with intrusive homicidal thoughts over the years we've gotten into the habit of FRIENDLY FIRE COMBAT. this means we kill each other but it has no consequences except knocking out a sysmate (whom the brain considers temporarily dead) for a few minutes to a few hours. Death is very common in our system ajahdjdjsjsjddj

84. What is a flavour of ice cream that describes you collectively? - Mint chocolate chip because Fffffuck you JAAJAJSJDJDDJ

85. Which pride flag is the prettiest, in your collective opinion? - Noooo clue tbh

86. If you collectively had to choose between being a sweet or a sour candy, which do you pick? - SOUR BABEYYYY sour candy is our favourite candy. Turn Our Ass Into A Warhead.

87. Your body always morphs into what the current fronter(s) look like, would you want this power or not? - we're not out to anyone irl so no oh god could you imagine. wait that'd be so funny with our factives. Our mom walks into our room and fucking Mark.ip.lier is there. help

88. Is there a Hatsune Miku in your System? - ........ Yeah we used to have a couple but they've since been absorbed HDJDSJSJDJD

89. Who has been in your System the longest (if you can remember)? - this thing. Formed sometime in 2010.

... But then there's also sysmates apart of the First Wave. Those guys formed years before but we thought they were imaginary friends at the time.

People in the first wave include Anatoly and Callisto (Umbreon and Espeon respectively; introjects of the starters from Pokemon Colosseum), Dewy (from Dewy's Adventure), Ooccoo (from... Zelda? We've never even played a Zelda game.), the King of Sorrow (from Klonoa), and 02 (from Kirby 64). All of these guys formed when we were in single digits. This does not include other sysmates we're now aware of but have since disappeared like Togepi, Misty (yes. from Pokemon.), Gary the Snail, etc.

I'd say Anatoly and Callisto are the eldest since we got Colosseum at the age of like 3-4 (they did NOT form with those names btw, they recently came out of dormancy like last year fjdjsjdjd as a kid they were just Umbreon and Espeon) but idk for sure. I know Ooccoo formed because of Brawl and we were like 8-9 for that one. We got Dewy's Adventure when the Wii JUST came out. We'd have been... 7, maybe 8 depending on when we actually got one cuz I doubt it was on launch. No clue about Sorrow though cuz Lunatea's Veil came out in 2001 and that's. Yeah no.

I think Sorrow formed when we were at least 5 cuz we found out about Him through youtube. So uh. yippee?

Same goes for 02 though wdr when she formed. We vividly remember that was during the Restaurant Era™ (our parents owned a restaurant when we were a kid and we were stuck there very often .) though. And we were at LEAST 5 for that.

But we consider Ticky Tacky to be our "first" starmate despite obvious proof of that not being the case in retrospect DHSJjdjdj

Y'KNOW I FORGOT ABOUT KING THE KINGDRA. started off as a teeny lil Horsea ofc and was our first ever "imaginary friend" (can you tell Misty was our fave growing up.) and evolved over the years. She's fucking huge now btw. "5'11" my ass She's like 10 ft tall she's SCARY AHAHAJSDJDJXJSJDJD

90. If you collectively had to choose, would you rather only eat sweet foods or only eat savoury foods for the rest of your life? - OUGH.... depends on the sysmate. I know if Wil were answering this they'd choose sweet foods without a second thought. I asked my subsystem what they thought and Mal just screamed at me. um. I'd choose savory tbh!

-Tulip

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats Lawrence on your audition for Faith Fabray! Send us her blog within 48 hours!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Lawrence Preferred pronoun: He/him Age (Must be 20+): 39 Timezone/Country: GMT/UK RP Experience: Shitloads. Activity Level: 8/10 Have You Been in this RP Before (and who did you play): <its been 84 years gif>

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Faith Fabray Designation (Dom, Switch, sub): Dom Age: 21 Birthdate (click here for list): December 1st 2002 Faceclaim: Melissa Benoist Orientation: Hetero Kinks: Domination, groups, subby boys, impact play, CBT, TPE. Anti-Kinks: Scat, blood, needles.

Key Points: (please copy/paste the bullet points from the bio. For OC characters, please add at least 4 bullet points of characteristics)

Raised mostly by her slave mother, Nora. This gives her a different perspective on being Russell's child than her brothers have.

Ignored by her father for most of her life, she suddenly has his attention now that she's the only one of his children with the Dominant mark.

Seeing the conditions her mother lived in, Faith wants revenge against Russell. Notably, this experience hasn't made her particularly anti-slavery though.

Her ultimate plan is to take over Russell's businesses, land, and home.

BIO:

Faith had a rough childhood. Being born to a slave, she was relegated to the slave house on the Fabray land and treated very differently compared to her "legitimate" siblings. At least, that was how she saw it. She was given the bare minimum from her father. She wasn't allowed to attend the same schools as her siblings, to discourage them from mingling and so that less money would be "wasted" on her education. When she would try to openly talk with her siblings, he would shoo her away. While that was traumatising enough, seeing her mother being treated as the slave she was, was just as traumatising. Russell didn't let up on her just because she had given him a daughter.

For most of her childhood, Faith dreamed of running away as soon as she was able to do so. At first she just wanted to get away, no matter what that looked like. No matter if she had a good life for herself out in the real world. But by the time she was eighteen, Faith was angry. She'd had years of being treated different, of seeing the abuse her mother was going through while Camille and Judy were treated like queens in comparison, in Faith's eyes. She wanted more for herself than running away with no money. She wanted to take everything she could from Russell.

She worked on a plan. The first step was to look up the Headmaster at the institute her brothers had enrolled at, and sure enough, he had a record of mismarking students. While the Dominant mark felt right, Faith knew she couldn't let that lie in the hands of a fucking simpleton. She'd manipulate the man, make herself look like the perfect Domme, so he'd have no choice but to give her the mark she needed for her revenge. She spent three years gathering as much money as she could, from a full time retail job, as well as routinely stealing directly from the main Fabray house. She needed a nest egg, in case this all fell apart. She wasn't going to end up like her mother. Faith had backup plans for her backup plans.

BIO QUESTIONS (Please answer the following questions as the character. They are meant to be short answer, so please more than one-word answers):

What are your feelings about the mark you have received?

It's exactly what I wanted and expected. The Headmaster is a clever man for giving me what I deserve.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it?

An irrelevant question. What matters is my feelings on the system, unless my parents are secretly enrolling here. My education here should be better than these questions.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate?

In my own gorgeous estate back in Arkansas, with a group of submissive boys.

How do you feel about authority?

My authority is the only authority I'm concerned with.

[hellroots]

💋 ( to Frankie from Grace xoxo )

drop a 💋 in my inbox to straight up kiss my muses ! | @afraidofchange

in a minute frankie is excitedly explaining to grace the intricate details about the complex astral reason why kids nowadays are so drawn to fidget toys - using, obviously, each and every information she saw online on twitter that may or may not be proven to be true, scientifically speaking - and in the next she's got her space taken completely by grace, who's looking at frankie in a way that the woman almost feels tempted to tease her and ask her if she wanted to kiss her. however, before she can even do so, frankie finds herself pressed against the doorframe ( much like that one time grace did a search on frankie's numerous pockets ), only this time she did kiss her. melting against her embrace, frankie kissed her friend with all her might - she's been dying to do so for so long, perhaps ever since they went out in the say yes night.

' well - it sure took you long enough to kiss me, kevin.' frankie grinned happily, caressing grace's cheek fondly with her thumb. ' i'm not complaing, though ! it was worth the wait...'

[sonxflight-a2]

"Master, I..." Kung Lao hesitates, chewing his lower lip and thinking about it, brows knitted. "I..." He forces his gaze up to meet Ryou's. "I love you..."

@bastardsunlight

The rush of worry yielding to the warmful bittersweetness as soon as he catches Lao’s eyes, what is inflicted to his chest is an alloy of ameliorating balm and precise pang, a few words that are powerful enough to cause the effect no less strong than sticks and stones. Light drowning and shimmering within the vitality of his hazel depths, this is no brokenness but the melting under the affectivity of sentiment... One cannot say if there is any boundary in-between of tenderness and dolour... What is sheer is that his being could never keep the truth hidden when it came to his eyesight, now peered into by the other with equal intensity as he hopelessly strives to separate and fight the aching melancholy stir.

To fall in love with the one of godhood is no tragedy unless they love you back - Ryou comprehends than more than well, while also recognizing his heart being as whimsical as the ever-changing beauty of oceanic expanse. What is the point to weep upon something that is yet to come?... Wouldn’t it be better to seize and relish any given peace and mirthfulness of present?... Over and over, to convince his tattered yet still so stalwart spirit to not look too far into the obscurity of future is an arduous task, and the half-Edenian cherishes the given tenfold every time he’s reminded of its income, both so rapturous and so desolated to give oneself and take his beloved with no residue. There is time... There are years... And yet... Broad thorax growing unbearably heavy, he all the same finds the strength to yet stay reticent, the emotionality of gaze betrays the slowly crumbling evenness of speech.

“I... Sigh... I understand your hesitations - if you are not certain, you don’t have to say it. However... If you apprehend your feelings to not be reciprocated... You have nothing to fear.”

Coarsened palms are quick to find and gingerly cup the mellow skin, his mouth is delicate to brush upon the fullness of lips only to seal them with the potency of ardor, the gesture serving as an utmost testament and manifestation of what the quiet baritone will be following to whisper into a tensed air. Whatever is to come, he knows for certain their devotion is candor... Bestowed kiss is to be concluded, the pressed forehead lightly pulls away only for Ryou to have a better look on the youthful visage as if memorizing the current state of its features with deliberation and thoughtfulness, graceful digits are careful to stroke the onyx of braided hair.

“ 我也愛你, 我的燕子... 我做.” (’I love you too, My Swallow... I do.’)

“現在和永遠...” (’Now and forever...’)