#like yeah I guess I do champ...

[fandomwave]

Pardner and I have been working on a canon divergent au and also I wanted to play around with fuckin hair construction :3 Top left is Atem/Yami and how he looks to Yuugi, Top right is classic flavored Yuugi Bottom is how Yuugi looks to everyone when Atem/Yami is driving (Minus the eye on most occasions. Sometimes you get lil a mindcrush. As a treat)

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which it was time for paige to share her life to the world

The Dallas heat clung to everything—your skin, your clothes, your breath. It had been one of those dry, hazy spring days where the city buzzed with anticipation, and today that energy had a name: Paige Bueckers.

Drafted to the Wings only a week ago, your wife had already been pulled in a hundred different directions—interviews, photoshoots, press conferences, sponsor obligations. And tonight, a team dinner to cap it all off.

You knew she was exhausted. You’d seen it in the slump of her shoulders when she got dressed earlier, the tired smile she gave you as she kissed your cheek goodbye. Still, she went. Paige always did the hard thing with grace.

You stayed home with your daughter.

The dinner had started off light—wings, tacos, laughter echoing around the table at some local spot her new teammates loved. Everyone was still riding high from the buzz around the team, and Paige, though quiet at first, settled in after a couple rounds of teasing and margaritas (which she didn’t even sip, but they still joked like she was three drinks in).

“So Paige,” Arike Ogunbowale said from across the table, grinning, “you and Azzi… what’s the deal?”

It was casual, playful—just a nudge in the middle of the chaos—but the whole table paused. Even the waitress setting down guacamole looked like she froze mid-motion.

Paige blinked once, then laughed. It was genuine, warm, and more amused than anything. ��Me and Azzi? Nah. We’re just close. Like… family.”

Arike nodded, her mouth full of tortilla chip. “Okay, okay. Just checking. Social media’s obsessed.”

One of the rookies chimed in, “Yeah, I mean, you’re always together.”

Paige shrugged, still smiling. “That’s what happens when you’ve known someone since you were fifteen. She’s my best friend, that’s all.”

There was a flicker of something protective in her voice. Not sharp, but final.

The questions faded, and the conversation shifted toward next week’s training schedule. Paige let herself relax again, but a weight settled in her chest. They didn’t mean any harm. But part of her still hated that people couldn’t imagine her love life without assuming it had to be another basketball player.

No one had guessed the truth.

It was late when she got home. The house was quiet, soft golden light from the kitchen spilling into the hallway. Her sneakers came off with a sigh, and she padded softly down the hall.

First stop: the nursery.

The door was slightly cracked. Inside, a small figure lay sprawled on her belly, wild curly hair fanned out against the sheets. Her favorite stuffed puppy was clutched in one hand, the other hand thrown dramatically over her head like a tiny diva.

Paige stepped inside slowly, carefully. Her heart melted instantly.

She bent down, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I love you, bug,” she whispered, so low it was barely sound. “So much.”

She lingered there for a second—watching, listening to the even rhythm of her baby girl’s breathing—then gently closed the door behind her.

You were propped up in bed when Paige came in, your face glowing in the light from the TV. A rerun of Chopped was on low volume, the judges arguing about undercooked scallops. You looked over as she entered, your expression instantly softening.

“There’s my superstar,” you teased.

Paige’s face cracked into a tired grin. She kicked off her hoodie and jeans and climbed into bed beside you, settling against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “I’m so tired I think my bones are asleep.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. “You handled that media circuit like a champ. I saw the clips.”

She groaned, turning her face into your neck. “So many questions. And they all ask the same thing. ‘What are you most excited about? How does it feel to be in Dallas? Do you think you and Azzi are soulmates?’”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”

Paige leaned back and looked at you, laughing. “I’m not kidding. One of my teammates asked if Azzi and I are a thing. The whole table went quiet like it was the tea of the night.”

You couldn’t help your smirk. “And what did you say?”

“That she’s like my sister,” Paige said, deadpan. “But I guess people don’t expect me to be married to someone who isn’t also a Nike-sponsored hooper.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, they can keep wondering.”

Paige reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. She toyed with your wedding ring. “I don’t really care what they think. I just hate not being able to say it out loud.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But here, with us… you don’t have to hide.”

A beat passed.

Then Paige looked toward the ceiling, her eyes fluttering shut. “Sometimes I just wanna scream it. ‘I’m married to the love of my life and we have the most amazing little girl and I’m not dating my best friend!’”

You laughed quietly, running your fingers through her hair. “You’re tired.”

She nodded into your chest. “I am. But happy tired.”

For a few minutes, you lay in silence, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. Her breathing slowed. Her hand still clutched yours.

Then she whispered, “She was asleep when I checked in on her.”

“Was she curled up like a little croissant again?”

“No,” Paige said, grinning against your skin. “Starfish mode tonight. She’s dramatic, just like you.”

You chuckled, closing your eyes as Paige snuggled in closer, her voice barely a breath now. “Thanks for holding it down at home.”

“Always,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Now sleep. You’ve got a city to conquer tomorrow.”

And with your arms wrapped around her, the soft hum of the TV, and your daughter safe down the hall, Paige finally let go—of the noise, the questions, the pressure—and drifted off in the quiet comfort of home.

Saturdays had a different feel now.

In Connecticut, it used to mean quiet coffee runs and long naps between workouts. But now, in Dallas, Saturdays were noisy. Messy. Beautiful. They started with sticky pancake fingers, early cartoons, and your daughter toddling around the kitchen with one sock on, yelling that she was a “big girl” and didn’t need a bib.

You and Paige had decided early on that today was just for the three of you. No media. No workouts. No press. Just a family day under the sun.

And so you found yourselves at a park, right in the middle of downtown Dallas. It was a bright, cloudless day. Families filled the green spaces, music echoed from a nearby jazz trio, and the food trucks lined up like a mini festival.

Your daughter, Emma—two and a half years old and already a firecracker—clung to Paige’s hand like she was leading a grand expedition across the grass.

“Where are we going, baby?” Paige asked, her sunglasses perched on her head, her other hand holding your iced lemonade.

“To da dogs!” Emma shouted, pointing at the off-leash area where a dozen bouncing golden retrievers played in a chaotic fur ball.

Paige gasped dramatically. “THE DOGS? Why didn’t you say so sooner?!”

She scooped Em into her arms, spinning her in a wide circle that sent squeals of laughter into the breeze.

You followed behind, grinning like a lovestruck idiot, because no matter how many times you saw Paige with your daughter, it never got old.

After the dogs (which Em referred to as “her friends”), you found a shaded bench by the splash pad. Shoes were off. Chubby toddler legs were kicking water in all directions. Paige sat cross-legged on the concrete beside her, letting the spray hit her jeans, not caring one bit.

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, pointing at a tiny spout, “if I put my hand here, will it spray me in the face?”

Your daughter nodded, wild-eyed. “Yes! Do it! Do it!”

Paige pretended to consider. “I dunno… seems risky.”

“Do it, Mama! Be brave!”

You watched from the bench, barely holding back a laugh as Paige gave in with theatrical flair. She slapped her palm on the stream and—true to your daughter’s prediction—it shot directly into her face.

Both of them screamed.

Your daughter collapsed into giggles, falling back into your lap as Paige wiped her face and feigned betrayal.

“I trusted you!” she cried.

“I sorry,” your daughter said through giggles, not sorry at all.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a tiny little prankster, that’s what you are.”

She pounced, grabbing your daughter from your arms and tickling her belly until the poor girl was a breathless, wriggling mess.

Later, after lunch from a taco truck and ice cream melting faster than you could eat it, the three of you laid on a picnic blanket near the edge of the park. Paige was on her back, your daughter curled up on her chest, slowly blinking up at the blue sky. She was coming down from her sugar high, hair damp from the water, eyelids fluttering.

You leaned over, resting your head on Paige’s shoulder.

“Tired?” you asked.

“Like, I’d-rather-get-run-over-by-a-scooter-than-move tired,” Paige whispered back. “But this is the happiest I’ve been in… I don’t even know how long.”

You looked down at your daughter’s little hand resting on Paige’s shirt, her tiny thumb unconsciously stroking Paige’s collarbone. Paige didn’t even seem to notice—she was so used to the closeness now.

“She loves you so much,” you said, your voice quiet.

Paige turned her head to look at you. “I’d give her the moon if she asked.”

You smiled, and she kissed you softly, the kind of kiss that didn’t need fireworks or urgency—just comfort and presence. Just love.

The sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the buildings. You started packing up while Paige stayed sprawled out on the blanket, your daughter now fully asleep, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed to Paige’s chest.

As you folded up the corner of the blanket, Paige looked up at you, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think they’ll ever get used to this?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The world. The media. Everyone who thinks I should be with Azzi or still single. Everyone who can’t imagine I’d choose this—quiet Saturdays and sippy cups over spotlight interviews.”

You met her gaze and smiled softly. “They don’t have to understand it. You just have to live it.”

Paige looked down at the little bundle on her chest, then back at you. “I’m living it. And it’s perfect.”

By the time you made it back to the car, your daughter was groggy and muttering something about needing her stuffed puppy. Paige kissed her forehead, promised they’d find it when they got home, then strapped her gently into the car seat.

As she closed the door, you caught her hand.

“Hey,” you murmured, tugging her in.

She stepped into you easily, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her temple.

“For what?” she asked.

“For being this. For loving us like this.”

Paige tilted her head, brushing her lips across your jaw. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

And with your daughter softly snoring in the backseat, the air still warm with sun and laughter, you believed her with your whole heart.

Sundays in Dallas were slower, warmer in every way. The city was quieter. Even the breeze felt lazy, like it didn’t have anywhere to be. Today, you and Paige had taken your daughter to the Dallas Farmers Market — your favorite spot for fresh fruit, wandering stalls, and letting your toddler explore the world in her little denim overalls and butterfly sneakers.

She held Paige’s hand as she toddled toward a booth selling homemade soaps, squealing about the ones shaped like ducks. Paige, with her signature cap pulled low and sunglasses on, nodded along like this was a very important duck decision.

You were laughing, sipping your coffee, when it happened.

“Wait… hold up.”

You turned toward the voice just as Paige froze.

Two figures stood by a booth across the path. Tall, athletic, and unmistakable even out of uniform. Dijonai Carrington and NaLyssa Smith.

“PAIGE?” Dijonai called, her eyebrows practically hitting her hairline. “Is that you?”

Paige straightened slowly, adjusting her hat like it might help her hide in plain sight. “Heyyyy... guys.”

NaLyssa squinted. “Are you holding hands with a baby?”

You tried not to laugh, especially as Paige’s eyes flicked to you with a silent help me.

“She’s a toddler, actually,” you said, stepping up and offering a warm smile. “And yes. That’s our daughter.”

Dijonai’s jaw dropped so fast you swore you heard it.

“OUR?!”

Your daughter looked up at the sound and instantly broke into a grin. “Mama!” she shouted, lifting both arms toward Paige. Paige scooped her up with practiced ease.

NaLyssa blinked. “Mama?!”

“Okay, okay,” Paige laughed, already blushing. “Let me explain.”

After the initial shock wore off—and after your daughter insisted on showing them her duck soap and a sticker she got from a face painting booth—you all decided to hang out the rest of the day.

The five of you ended up grabbing Thai food from a food stand and sprawling out at a nearby park on the grass. The energy was light, Emma chasing butterflies and occasionally tripping into Paige’s lap, then laughing like it was the best thing ever.

NaLyssa took to her like an auntie in five seconds flat, giving her piggyback rides while Dijonai tried (and failed) to braid her curly hair.

By the time the sun started dipping low, you looked at Paige and smiled. “We should invite them over.”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. They’re not gonna let this go without the full story anyway.”

That evening, with your daughter finally asleep upstairs—curled in her bed with her stuffed puppy tucked under one arm—you all lounged in your cozy living room. The lights were dimmed, music soft in the background, a couple candles flickering on the coffee table.

You poured glasses of wine, passing them around before curling up next to Paige on the couch. She stretched her arm around you, fingers gently tracing your shoulder as you sipped.

“Alright,” Dijonai said, settling into the beanbag like she owned it. “Spill. We need the entire story. Like… Paige Bueckers has a family. Who would’ve guessed?”

Paige smiled, leaning into you a little. “It’s not as dramatic as you think.”

You nudged her playfully. “Kinda is.”

NaLyssa raised her glass. “Let’s hear it.”

You glanced at Paige, who gave you the go-ahead. So you started.

“Well… we met at UConn. I wasn’t a player—I was studying sports medicine and doing photography for the women’s basketball program.”

“She had a camera in her hand every time I looked up from the court,” Paige added with a soft laugh.

“I got pregnant right around the start of my second year, basketball season was just beginning,” you said, tone quieting a little. “It was… unplanned. The baby daddy didn’t stick around.”

Dijonai’s smile dropped. “Damn. That sucks.”

You nodded. “Yeah. It was rough. But Paige… she just showed up. Not all at once. Just… little things. Bringing me food. Walking me back to my dorm when my ankles were too swollen. Sitting with me during appointments when I couldn’t reach my mom.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Paige said. “But I knew I wanted to help her. I wanted to be around.”

“And then one day, she showed up with a crib she built herself,” you continued, laughing softly. “Badly built, by the way.”

“Hey!” Paige protested. “That thing held perfectly until month six.”

NaLyssa giggled. “So when did it… become more than friendship?”

You looked at Paige, your eyes softening.

“It was slow,” you said. “But honest. I think I loved her before I realized I did. Before I even knew I was allowed to.”

“I fell first,” Paige admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I waited until she was ready. I wasn’t going to push it.”

You looked down at your wine, smiling. “And by the time our daughter was born, it was just… obvious. She was already her mama. Her name deserved to be on the birth certificate. We got married shortly after Emma was born. No doubts whatsoever.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Dijonai let out a long whistle. “So I guess the ‘Pazzi’ rumors are just rumors, huh?”

Paige burst out laughing. “Yeah. Definitely. Azzi’s actually Emma’s godmother.”

NaLyssa choked on her wine. “What?! Y’all are out here playing chess while the whole internet’s writing fanfics!”

“Yeah,” Paige smirked. “And I read some of them. Wild stuff.”

You gasped. “Paige!”

“What?” she grinned. “Some of ‘em are kinda flattering.”

Dijonai shook her head, laughing. “I love this. I can’t wait to see the look on people’s faces when they find out.”

You looked at Paige, her cheeks flushed with wine and happiness, and smiled. “We’re not rushing that. But it’s nice to finally share it with someone.”

She leaned over and kissed you softly, letting her hand drift over your thigh. “Yeah. Feels good.”

NaLyssa raised her glass again. “To chosen family. And duck soap. And a little girl with the coolest moms in Texas.”

You all clinked glasses.

And in that living room—warm with love, filled with quiet laughter and soft confessions—you realized just how full your life had become.

Not just because of what you had with Paige.

But because of everything you’d built together.

The morning started with pancakes and cartoons, as it usually did. Paige had an early shoot around, but it was her first open-practice session with the team since the season officially kicked off — and she insisted on making it a family affair.

“You sure they won’t mind?” you asked as you buttoned your daughter’s little Wings jersey, the one with Bueckers on the back and “#5” in glitter iron-on patches.

Paige gave you a look like you’d just asked if basketballs were round. “They’ll love it. Trust me — they’re already obsessed with her and they haven’t even met her yet.”

You raised a brow. “They’re gonna be obsessed with me too, right?”

Paige leaned in, kissed you softly, and murmured against your lips, “I already am.”

The College Park Center buzzed with energy when you arrived. The team was mid-practice, music bumping through the speakers, sneakers squeaking across the court. Trainers and staff bustled around, but when Paige jogged in with you and your daughter in tow, heads turned.

A few players paused their drills, doing double takes.

“Is that…?”

“Oh my god, she’s here!”

NaLyssa was the first to run over, already beaming. “Hey! My favorite tiny human!” she called, bending down with arms open.

Your daughter squealed and took off across the hardwood — all bouncing curls and flashing sneakers — throwing herself into NaLyssa’s arms.

“You see that?” Paige said proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Star player in the making.”

“You mean star recruiter,” you teased. “She’s already got the team wrapped around her finger.”

Practice paused for a bit — not because it was scheduled to, but because your daughter had singlehandedly hijacked the gym.

Maddy Siegrist taught her how to spin a ball on her finger (badly), and Teaira McCowan gave her piggyback rides down the sideline. Arike pretended to “lose” to her in a 1-on-1 dribble showdown, flopping dramatically every time your daughter drove the ball (slowly pushed it across the court while making car sounds).

Paige, watching from the bench with you tucked under her arm, just smiled like her whole world was right there on that hardwood.

When Coach Chris Koclanes walked over, hands on his hips, you tensed — but the coach just looked at Paige’s daughter, then at you, and broke into a warm grin.

“So,” he said, “this is the little MVP we’ve been hearing about?”

“She’s the real star of the family,” you replied.

Coach nodded sagely. “Well, we’ve got open tryouts in 2042.”

Later, after a water break and some light drills, the team settled into a shooting competition, and Paige brought your daughter onto the court with her.

“Alright, baby girl,” Paige said, handing her a mini basketball, “show ‘em how we do it at home.”

Your daughter squinted at the toddler-sized hoop they’d rolled out, took three steps back, and chucked the ball with everything she had.

It bounced off the rim, hit the floor, and rolled to NaLyssa’s feet.

And everyone still cheered like she just hit a buzzer-beater in the Finals.

“She’s got that dog in her!” NaLyssa yelled.

“Sign her now!” Dijonai called from the baseline.

Emma spun around, arms high in the air, and shouted, “I WIN!”

The team exploded in laughter and applause, and Paige scooped her up and spun her around.

“You always win,” she whispered, kissing her cheek. “Always.”

Practice wrapped up with team stretches, and your daughter sat in Paige’s lap, mimicking every move with a dramatic flair that had half the players in tears from laughing.

You took a few pictures — one of Paige mid-stretch with her daughter copying her pose, both of them giggling, sweat-slick and sunlit under the gym lights. Another of the whole team posing around your daughter like she was their mascot.

By the time you were heading out, your daughter’s head rested sleepily on Paige’s shoulder, a little snack in one hand and her other thumb tucked in her mouth.

“She did great,” you whispered.

“So did I,” Paige murmured back with a grin. “I was so nervous.”

You looked up at her. “About what?”

“Bringing my world together,” she said. “You, her… them. I just didn’t want it to feel weird. Or too much.”

You kissed her gently on the temple. “You didn’t bring your world together, Paige. You built one. And we’re all lucky to be part of it.”

Paige glanced down at your daughter, kissed the side of her head, then looked at you like she couldn’t believe she’d gotten this lucky.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered. “I’ve got my whole team right here.”

The next morning, you were still in pajamas, your daughter sitting in her high chair absolutely covered in oatmeal, when Paige’s phone started blowing up.

She frowned at it, brushing oatmeal off her hoodie as she picked it up. “Uh… babe?”

You looked up from your coffee. “Hmm?”

“I think… I think we just went viral.”

You raised a brow. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

Dallas Wings – Instagram (@/dallaswings) [“Golden” – Harry Styles] “The Bueckers Era has officially begun 💙💚”

The video opened with Paige walking into the practice facility holding your daughter’s hand — her tiny legs moving double-time to keep up, her jersey bouncing as she walked.

Cut to:

Paige tying her daughter’s shoes on the bench

A shot of you sitting court side with your camera in hand, smiling at them

Your daughter making a shot in the toddler hoop and doing a victory dance as the team erupts

Paige picking her up and spinning her in the air, both of them laughing

Finally, a close-up of your daughter asleep on Paige’s chest during cool-down, Paige’s hand protectively over her back

And then…

Overlay text at the end: “Family.”

The comments? Unhinged.

@/wnbastan69: wait... PAIGE IS A MOM???

@/wingsnation: WHO IS THAT WOMAN ON THE BENCH. SHE'S GORGEOUS. IS THAT HER WIFE???

@/bucketsqueen: this is not a drill. paige bueckers is a MILF. i repeat—

@/azzistan: I KNEW she wasn’t with Azzi. THE BABY IS CALLING HER MAMA.

@/uconnfan1 ok. hear me out. that woman has a tattoo of Paige’s number on her arm. go back to the February UConn Gala photos. it's her. they've been together.

The TikTok version? Hit 1.2 million views in three hours.

And your DMs? Albeit being private. Piling up with everything from “CONGRATS OMG” to “how did you pull her???” to “tell us your love story pls pls pls.”

You just turned your phone over and looked at Paige, who was feeding your daughter a blueberry while trying not to panic.

“Well,” you said, sipping your coffee. “Hard launch.”

That night, the Wings media team reached out about doing a feature for their upcoming mini docuseries, “Inside the Paint.” Paige hesitated, but you looked at her and said:

“If we’re gonna tell it… let’s tell it right.”

You, Paige, and your daughter sat side-by-side on the couch in your home, camera crew set up across from you.

“She’s my whole heart,” Paige said, glancing at Emma who was now climbing into her lap with a granola bar. “She’s not technically mine. But she is.”

You nodded. “We met at UConn. I was pregnant — alone. Paige was just… Paige. Gentle. Always there.”

The camera caught Paige’s hand finding yours.

“She helped raise her. Changed diapers. Did midnight feeds. Built cribs badly,” you teased.

“She was the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t alone in it,” you continued. “And somewhere along the way, we just… fell in love.”

“My name’s on the birth certificate,” Paige added softly. “And my last name’s on both of theirs now.”

“Mama was all she knew Paige to be.”

The crew filmed the bookshelf with framed family photos. Paige carrying your daughter on her shoulders at the beach. You three asleep on the couch in a tangle of limbs. A picture of Azzi Fudd holding your daughter at her baptism with tears in her eyes.

“She’s the godmother,” Paige confirmed, grinning. “Azzi. The real MVP.”

The episode dropped on YouTube and Instagram the following weekend. And in under 24 hours, it was the top trending topic on WNBA Twitter and TikTok.

The reactions? A mix of sobbing emojis, fan art of your little family, and people just melting over how soft Paige was the whole time.

@/bballdreams: I thought I couldn’t love Paige Bueckers more. And then she became a wife and a mom. I’m DONE.

@/fanbrushfire: [art of Paige in uniform holding your daughter’s hand, with you in the background cheering them on] “Mama Bueckers”

@/sidelineheart: Paige Bueckers being a quiet, private wife and mother and then casually dropping the most beautiful love story I’ve ever heard?? How is this real??

That night, curled up with Paige on the couch, your daughter asleep upstairs, you scrolled through the chaos while Paige played with your fingers.

“You okay with it?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “I’m glad it’s out there. You deserved to be known like this.”

She kissed your temple. “We deserved to be known.”

The Wings had just pulled off a thrilling win against the Mercury. Paige had dropped 19 with 8 assists, but the real surprise came postgame.

As the buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted, the arena lights dimmed for the usual fan-appreciation wrap-up — but then the Jumbotron lit up with something unexpected.

“Special Presentation” — the screen read, flashing between highlights of the game and a video montage.

Your daughter appeared on-screen, wearing an oversized Wings hoodie, shyly grinning.

“Hi Mama,” her tiny voice said, echoing across the arena. “I proud of you. You my favorite player ever and ever. Can I give hug now?”

The arena melted.

Paige turned, stunned, and saw you at the tunnel — holding your daughter, her eyes bright and excited.

The crowd parted like the sea as the two of you walked onto the court. Your daughter wriggled out of your arms and ran straight to Paige, who dropped to her knees to catch her.

The ovation was deafening.

Tears welled in Paige’s eyes as she kissed her daughter’s cheek, holding her tightly, forehead resting against her tiny one.

The announcer laughed through the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen… the real MVP of the night.”

@/espnW: Paige Bueckers just got surprised on court by her wife and daughter after the Wings win. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. 🥹💙

@/wnbatalk: “Can I give hug now?” I’m SOBBING. Who raised that little angel?!

@/courtsidechronicles: Paige crying while hugging her daughter, then looking at her wife like she hung the moon? Love is so real.

@/fanartfridays: [Art of the three of you walking off the court hand-in-hand, with the Wings logo glowing behind you.] “The Heart of Dallas.”

You tucked your daughter into bed, her plush Wings blanket pulled up to her chin. Paige leaned down and whispered, “You were so brave today, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama,” she mumbled, already drifting.

You walked back downstairs together, hand in hand.

On the couch, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind, chin on your shoulder.

“I think they really know us now,” she murmured.

You tilted your head toward her. “They do.”

“And they love her,” she added, a proud smile blooming across her face.

“She’s impossible not to love,” you whispered. “Just like her mom.”

Paige kissed your cheek and pulled you closer, the glow of the moment still radiating through every room of your home.

“Thank you,” she said. “For letting me have this life.”

You turned in her arms, looked into her eyes, and smiled.

“We built this life together. And the best part? We’re just getting started.”

The WNBA season had hit its brief midseason break, and for the first time in months, the house was quiet. You were curled up on the couch flipping through a book while Paige lay on the floor with Em lying across her chest, both completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Paige’s breathing.

Then Paige’s phone buzzed from the coffee table.

She carefully reached for it, glancing at the screen without disturbing the sleepy toddler snuggled into her.

Azzi: I swear to God if I don’t see my goddaughter in person soon I will riot

Paige smiled and nudged you with her foot. “Guess who’s demanding visitation rights.”

You looked up, already grinning. “Azzi?”

She showed you the screen and you snorted. “She’s obsessed. But, fair. You know we’ve been meaning to visit.”

Paige’s voice dropped to a softer tone as she looked down at the little girl sleeping peacefully on her chest. “I think it’s time we go back. Just for a few days.”

“Back to where it all started?” you asked.

Paige met your eyes, voice thick with nostalgia. “Back home.”

[wonderjanga]

How Do You Just Know My Parental Figure?

Marvel just knows everyone’s mom’s for some reason and gives no explanation as to how. He just does.

Supes: *shows Billy a picture of his parents for whatever reason*

Marvel: “Supes… your mom is Mrs. Martha?”

Supes: “Yes? Do you know her…?”

Marvel: “Yeah! We met in ‘61 at a pie eating competition! She was the one making the pies for the competition.”

Supes: “Why were you at a pie eating competition? Were you participating?”

Marvel: “Uh yeah? I wanted that prize money and pie. Anyways, me and her hit it off when we got to talking. Then, the time bubble happened, but when it burst, we got back in touch and we make pies together now!”

Supes: “Huh. Ma’s never mentioned you.”

Marvel: “Really? i’ve been to the farm and everything.”

Supes: “You’ve been to the farm?!”

Marvel: “Yeah? A bake pies with her and try to help around the farm. By the way, Mr. Jonathan is your dad, right?”

Supes: “Yes?? How come I never knew this…?”

By the way, Billy goes as Billy and not as Marvel because he met like a maybe fourteen year old Ma Kent as Billy at the pie eating competition. Also, Martha knows he’s Cap so since Martha knows his identity, he figured she’d told her son. By the way, whenever Jon comes he’s so happy to see Billy cause wow! His grandma never told him there was another kid here. He figures Billy was a farmhand or something. Jon’s pretty sure that’s a thing anyways.

or

Wondy and Marvel: *sparring*

Marvel: “You know Diana you look just like your mother.”

Wondy: *falters slightly cause that came out of nowhere* “What?”

Marvel: *takes that as his chance to grab and throw her* “Yeah, you do! I guess it makes sense since you’re her daughter and all.”

Wondy: “Wait? you’re saying all of this like you personally know my mother.”

Marvel: “I did! Several thousand years ago. We used to be best friends! Then I was selected as a champion and had to leave and that’s when of our friendship fell out.”

Wondy: “So you’re an Amazonian?”

Marvel: “No, no no no I was an Amazonian.”

That previous champ and Hippolyta were actually besties but a young Hippolyta didn’t want her to go to man’s world because then she wouldn’t be able to come back to Themyscira. The previous champ went anyways and that was taken as a sort of act of betrayal, not that Diana’s mother would admit it. Not to mention, the previous champ couldn’t even come back to apologize considering you forget the island’s location if you leave.

or

Reporter: “Captain Marvel, as a member of the Justice League is there anything you would like to share with us about Bruce Wayne considering he sponsors you all?”

Marvel: “No, I don’t actually know anything about the guy. But you who I do know? Patrick Wayne.”

Reporter: Pardon? Please elaborate?

Marvel: “He was a pretty funny guy. He let me be a test dummy for all his little gadgets. It was fun!”

Meanwhile…

Bruce: *sitting on his couch watching this and remembers how he did research on his grandfather, and how most of those experimental gadgets were deadly*

Patrick and Marvel were actually pretty good buddies. They were like this 🤞. Then, the time bubble happened and by the time Billy got out, both Patrick and his son Thomas were already dead. Billy got really fortunate with Martha still being alive now that he thinks about it.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ just a race habibi (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : f1 grid x fem reader ; lewis hamilton x fem reader

summary : that one race which goes down in history

tw : emotional, fluff, angst

fc: irina shayk

a/n : THIS IS PART2! thank you so much to @amberjazmyn for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 this ends on a cliff hanger ! and the time span is during the 2020- 2021 grid 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by lewishmailton, user1, charlesleclerc, user2 and 1,839,378 others

ynshayk I do have a knack for fast things 💋ྀིྀི 🏎️

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user1 MOUTH DROPPED

user2 BRAIN SHOCKED

user3 STONE ROCKED

user4 MA'AM HARDLAUNCHED !?!?

user5 visuals !?

user6 even I would sacrifice 8 wdc for a girl like that

user7 SHE IS GOING TO BE WITH HIM FOR THE EIGHT !

user8 this season is going to end with Lewis winning the 8th💪🏻

charlesleclerc great, now I am replaced by lewis in your feed

ynshayk you have Carlos 👏🏻👏🏻

user9 I just want max to stop winning

user10 istg, max can win his first wdc next year, let lewis win this year

lewishamilton damn, guess need to speed up my cardio

ynshayk the gym’s on your way 😚🤓

user11 oh god, she has turned Lewis into a freaky being

user12 wasn’t he always one ?

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 1,983,468 others

ynshayk a summer away from vrooms 🌿🍵🍃⛰️

view comments

user1 she knows the emojis right ...?

user2 MA'AM YOUR HUSBAND IS STILL AN ATHELETE

user3 y/n being unfazed about posting drug emojis

user4 she was probably high in weed

user5 or Lewis

user6 or high on weed while on Lewis !?

user7 AYOO 🔫

lewishmailton sweetheart, you surely didn’t mean those emojis ?

ynshayk what? they are green and associate with nature

user8 yn….😊

user9 y/n 🫡

user10 y/n 🫠

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 2,578,289 others

ynshayk P2 for the history tomorrow 💪🏻

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lewishamilton ❤️

liked by ynshayk

landonorris I am invited to the party yeah ?

ynshayk nope, you are underage landonorris I am 21! ynshayk sure, you have been drinking since you were 16

user1 MA’AM THE POLICE!?

user2 y/n exposing Lando in comments 💪🏻

user3 YALL, LEWIS WILL BE THE 8 TIME WORLD CHAMPION 💪🏻

user4 let’s go lewisssss

user5 GET IN THERE LEWIS

user6 ITS HAMMERTIME LEWISSS

user7 stocking up my champagne 🍾

user8 DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN

mercedesamgf1 we second you on that 😊

ynshayk LESSSGOOO BONO 💪🏻

user9 sitting in the church the whole day

user10 what if max wins ?

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and 4,829,379 others

ynshayk a hard day to accept with tears, but I love you my champ, you were, are and always will be the world champ in my eyes 💫🏅

view comments

user1 I really don’t know how to respond

user2 does it mean she thinks max should not have won?

user3 Lewis was the winner! The bloody car !

user4 it was all because of the flag !

user5 Max won it fair and square !

user6 I just know that y/n would be fuming at FIA

user7 I am so glad that she is retired, she would have slammed into max otherwise

user8 LEWIS WE LOVE YOU

user9 y’all really be hating on max

user10 face it, max is the winner, not your Lewis 🫶🏻

user11 I think it’s problematic for her to post the comment online !

user12 ma’am should have kept her views to herself !

user13 So the red bull principal can say Lewis is 8 time champion but not her own girlfriend?

comments on this post has been limited

liked by user1, user2, user3, maxverstappen1 and 782,492 others

f1news BREAKING! Formula One World Champion Max Verstappen was seen fighting with 7-time Formula One World Champion’s Girlfriend, Y/N Shayk.

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the post has been removed due to guideline restrictions

[brotherblaze]

doloroso ii —robert "bob" reynolds

—summary: You invite Bob to a makeshift picnic on the building helipad (sometimes makeshift patio) when everyone else is away. He realizes he doesn't know much about you. So, he decides to start somewhere.

—word count: 2,9k

—warnings: n/a

—a/n: bucky gets a b-plot because hey maybe I want to make a spinoff for bucky and reader's previous incarnation

—part 1 | AO3

Bob is improving. Slowly, but progress is progress. He keeps to his schedule and he takes his pills like a champ. He mingles with the team even when they bicker and threaten to throw each other from the top of the building. They have a fascinating dynamic and something inside you stirs every time you see them argue, see them help each other, see them sitting in silence in the same room, doing their own thing.

At times, they work like a well-oiled machine, other times they’re like a trainwreck in action. Try as you might, you cannot look away from them. Hard-headed, all of them, kind of assholes at times, but they make it work. There is so much care between them, so much reassurance buried under retorts with a soft bite to them. They orbit each other like binary stars.

Complete silence in the Watchtower feels foreign. The TV has been on for most of the day to project some artificial life into the place. It has done little to help.

You flip through the channels on the oversized TV (this thing could probably fit inside a movie theater). The collapse of cable TV really is a sight to behold; ads upon ads upon ads shoved down your throat at every turn, every chance. It's almost infuriating how they finesse product placements into shows and movies in a way that’s so incredibly unnatural. You turn it off in a huff.

“Wow, cable really went to shit.” Bob is standing at what should be the doorway if the open kitchen wasn't so open. He has a bowl in his hand. It smells sweet.

“I'm suddenly so glad I don't have a TV at home.”

“Seriously?” He lifts a spoonful to his mouth. Whatever it is, it crunches as he chews. “Bucky said they didn’t have ads back in the day. You paid for a subscription to see the channels.”

“Oh, so they’re double-dipping. You're gonna ruin your appetite, by the way,” you tell him as you stand, smoothing out the wrinkles on your pants. “I ordered takeout. I think it’s for the best.”

“I tried to cook once when they were away,” Bob pauses, scraping the spoon in his hand against the side of the bowl — how is he finishing that bowl already? — “and John almost suplexed me for messing up his spice cabinet.”

You snort and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. “Sorry. Any word on when they’ll be back?”

“Not yet,” Bob says. He shrugs. “It’s normal for them to be gone for several days at a time. Spy stuff, I guess.”

“And you’re alone here?” Your frown slightly, brows furrowed. “Isn’t it lonely?”

“Not — I mean, maybe. Sometimes.” Your eyes meet his from across the room. “But it’s fine, y’know. I’m not ready to go out there and they — they have their job to do.”

You hold his gaze and — he cannot look away. He should look away but there’s something about you that pulls him in like a whirlpool and he’s trapped and he’s trapped and he’s trapped like a rat in a maze. The feeling is all too familiar but he can’t place it. Then again, he remembers very little from after he got jabbed for his blood and waking up in OXE’s vault.

The ping of your phone breaks whatever spell you have on him. You look away first, pull your phone from your pocket and scroll through the notifications. “Food’s here.” You grab the throw blanket from the couch and fold it over your arm. “Can you grab it? They don’t deliver up here, right?”

Bob’s racing thoughts come to a screeching halt and he tries to ground himself back into his body, wiggling his fingers and toes. All in one piece. He wipes the corner of his mouth against his shirt sleeve and immediately cringes. “Sorry. Yeah — yeah, I’ll go grab it.” He leaves his bowl in the sink and rushes over to the elevator.

It takes longer than he would like to get the food. Not only does the delivery driver seem to wilt when Bob shows up, but he doesn’t want to hand over the food. Because the picture in the app is of you and not him. There’s something akin to disbelief that the driver doesn’t recognize Bob, that bubbles in his chest and then immediately this crushing weight pressing against his lungs. Because he’s a nobody next to the team, isn’t he? That’s what the driver was probably hoping for, to see Bucky or John or Yelena and not him. Just Bob.

The driver taps something on his phone and raises it to his ear and Bob fruitlessly tries to get a word in. The man confirms the address on the phone and then — his eyes gloss over. Somewhere in Bob’s mind, it pings as wrong and he simultaneously needs to flee, needs to get out of here right at this second, and grab the man by the shoulders to shake him awake, food be damned. The delivery driver thrusts the paper bag into his chest and turns around, stiff like a puppet on strings, and walks off.

Bob retreats into the elevator, finger spamming the button to the top floor until the doors close and the elevator begins its climb. There’s a jitter in his veins, blood rushing in his ears. He should’ve done something, he should’ve grabbed the man and shaken him awake. That’s what heroes do, right? But he’s Bob, just Bob, not what the rest of his team — his friends — are. Pain pulses behind his eyes and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to will it away.

When the elevator dings and the doors slide open he nearly sprints out of the small confined metal trap. He doesn’t spot you at first glance.

“Patio!”

He scrambles across the room towards the sound of your voice, so alluring and the weight constricting his chest eases.

There’s a large candle on the center of the patio table. He can faintly smell citrus. You’re fussing with the throw blankets from the couch, draping them over the patio chairs and then folding the edges so they don’t touch the floor. You wave him over with a smile and Bob mutters a quiet apology for taking so long. He doesn’t want to go into the details, doesn’t want to go back to spiraling about being just Bob, so he just unpacks the food, trying to make out what’s in each container.

You sit and pull the throw blanket onto your shoulders, reaching for the closest container. Whatever’s in it, seems to be fine and you pop it open.

The sun has set. The city is alight even when the sky's still blue. Could the team get out of the city for the summer solstice? He makes a mental note to ask for their opinion once they get back. The two of you don’t make conversation as you eat but it doesn’t feel empty or awkward. He actually sort of enjoys it. The people below on the street are like small ants, all of them rushing somewhere, organized and disorganized at the same time. Cars honk. The billboards glare reds and greens and whites in flashing advertisements. Despite everything, Bob feels calm.

“I never realized NYC has so much light pollution. And noise pollution." Okay, so you’re not a fan. Bob can’t help but chuckle. When he realizes, he splutters, coughs. Like he’s trying to hide his transgression. You think back to the rooms you’d dragged him through.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes to say, a string of apologies ready on his tongue but you don’t look at him like he’s managed to piss you off. The corner of your mouth is curled upwards, eyebrows raised slightly. He takes a moment to recalibrate. Different environment, different people, he reminds himself. “You’re uh… not from around here, huh?”

“Ha.” It’s something between a laugh and a snide comment and yet there’s no actual malice contorting your features. “No, I have a farm. Well, a sort of farm. Not far from a little seaside town.”

“A farm? Wow.” It dawns on him that he knows very little about you. You’re so proactive in conversations that the topic smoothly gets steered away from you every time. He turns his body towards you slightly. You mirror him. “Like, with cows?”

“Dogs.” You take a sip of your water. Your lipstick smudges against the rim on the glass. It catches Bob's eye. “I rescue them. Mostly from dog fighting rings. I have a whole network set up. Someone discovers it and if a case is bad enough, like, if they can’t get rehomed because they’re continuously aggressive and don’t respond to training, they come to stay with me.”

“So, they have retirement homes for dogs?”

You giggle, a hand covering your mouth. Bob’s ears flush. “Sort of. Yeah, I guess it’s technically retirement. There’s a lot of land for them to roam around. In the summer I usually take them to the sea to swim and in the winter we’ll go sledding on the ice if the ice is thick enough.”

“Oh, so you have seasonal activities,” he jokes and he doesn't even know where it came from but you laugh again and something in his chest flutters. He takes a bite from his kebab before he says anything stupid again. “So,” he starts again when a thought strikes him and immediately places his hand over his mouth. He forces the lump of food down his throat half-chewed because you’re looking at him like that again, with that small smile. He clears his throat once and washes everything down with water. Only then does he dare to speak again. “Is it a… passion? Rehabilitating dogs?”

“More like easy. Dogs are much more susceptible to being dominated than humans are. It’s easy for me to correct their behavior because of what I am. I figured why not give it a shot? Sometimes it’s good to be responsible for someone else; makes you get out of bed in the morning because you need to provide,” you say. “I know pet ownership isn't for everyone but…” you gently jab your elbow against his ribs, “I think it would do you a lot of good.”

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head slightly. His curls bounce. “Sometimes it feels like…” his expression fractures for a fleeting moment before he composes himself and gives you a wavering smile. “I can’t even manage myself, y’know?”

You don’t know. There it is again, that feeling in your chest, stirring, slithering, coiling around your organs. Something is missing. Something is wrong with you. So, you steer the conversation.

“Y’know, they make robot dogs now.” There’s a glint in your eye when you say it. He should rebut, refuse, thank you for the food and stand up and go crawl into his soft bed but the way you smile at him… “Those tiny ones with batteries, not the big ones they use for research and in the army — those are kind of creepy.”

“Oh, you mean the small purse robot dogs?”

“Exactly. Walker’s little hat is just the right size to carry one around.”

He laughs. He actually laughs and it feels good. He feels light and warm despite not picking up the throw blanket.

And then it’s silent between you again. A good silence. His nearly-finished kebab tastes better all of a sudden. He reaches for another one. You refill your water glass and then his, too. He mumbles a thank you between chewing.

When the food is gone and he feels full and fulfilled and so warm, sitting there on the patio with you, and you sit up to reach for something on the table, he catches the end of your throw blanket before it slides off your shoulders. He gently tugs it back up. Your fingers brush his as you grasp the two ends together in front of you. His entire face is on fire now. Maybe you won’t notice it in the dim summer night.

“The file Bucky sent on you,” you say. Bob’s thoughts screech to a halt and start racing, all at the same time. If the weight in his chest weren’t so crushing, he’d laugh at how you manage to make his thoughts mimic an episode of Looney Tunes. You read his file? There was enough for Bucky to put together a file on him and send it to someone? Wait, of course there was. He recounts his juvenile record, his involvement in OXE’s Project Sentry, his psychological evaluations pre-OXE and those more recent — that file must be thick. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “You traveled South-East Asia?”

That’s probably the last question he expected from you. There it is again; his need to recalibrate his thoughts and his presence and his existence in his own body. He rubs his palms together, taps the fingers on his right hand to his left to count them.

“Uh — yeah. Mostly looking for drugs.”

“Were the constellations really that different?”

“A little. The big ones are the same, just flipped.” He glances at the sky, and this is probably the darkest it’ll get. Not enough to reveal the stars. “Too bad you can’t see most of them in the city.”

“North Star,” you say, pointing to a star in the distance.

“That’s…” he considers if he wants to correct you (he really doesn’t) but you turn to look at him, head cocked to the side slightly. Like a curious dog. Maybe it is true that owners take after their pets but he wouldn’t know. “That’s actually Dubhe. Second brightest in the Ursa Major. That,” He reaches his finger out and attempts to draw the constellation, “is the North Star”. Your eyes follow his movements and then trace the sky again in that pattern, as if you’re actually able to see the stars that aren’t there in this light.

“North Star is the brightest one in the sky, right?”

“It’s the brightest star in the Ursa Major, but there are brighter stars out there.”

Your eyes meet his and there it is again, a crushing weight on his chest and his blood roaring in his ears. And then you blink once, twice, and the feeling eases, not as oppressive but still present and he can hear the sounds of the city again. You smile at him, tightening the blanket around your shoulders.

“Do you know any other constellations?”

Bucky stares at the locker. The steel is faded and scratched, the door bent. Someone has tried to put their fist through it. He pulls off his glove, traces his fingertips across the dumps and dents on the door. The padlock on it is rusted. It crumbles in his hand with ease.

The hinges on the door creak.

He never came in here with a specific plan. But he saw the sign next to the door and his body moved on its own accord. And now he’s here and he’s looting through a dead woman’s belongings. Truly, how low can he go?

There’s a half-empty bottle of perfume on the top shelf. He picks it up and lifts it to his nose. The rational part of him knows it’s gone stale and disgusting but the irrational part, the part that longs for a soft and warm hand of the very worst and simultaneously very best Handler he’s ever had, overrides it. He scrunches his nose when the smell does not jog a memory, does not bring comfort. Of course it doesn’t and his own thoughts jeer at his actions. Of a dog, pitiful and weak and utterly loyal.

He caps the bottle and places it back on the shelf. His fingers bump against something small and round. He reaches further into the locker, feels around the dust and cobwebs until he finds it. Small, cylindrical. Lipstick, he realizes. He stares at it, debates, wars with himself. He should leave it where he found it, not keep mementos like some sort of psychopath. He should burn this place to the ground and scrub his skin clean, shove his head back into that machine to powerwash his brain and scramble the lingering sentiment towards his Handler. Instead, he slides the tube of lipstick into his left chest pocket.

Her coat is still there. It’s not the one she was wearing when he… Bucky grits his teeth. Her mouth was always so warm. Even with his metal and flesh fingers prying her jaw apart.

He feels the softness of the fur coat between his fingertips. He recalls how much she loved velvet. She always wore velvet coats, no matter how impractical. Fur coats, though, were reserved for special occasions. Maybe she had plans that day he ripped her into pieces.

He takes care to fold the dusty coat over his flesh arm, turns and leaves.

He makes it out before the others. The summer air is stuffy this far inland and the heat of the day lingers. Still, it's better than the stale air of rot and death inside the bunker. The sky is littered with stars. Bucky traces the constellations with his eyes. Ursa Minor. Ursa Major. It feels like they’re laughing at him, at the way he clings to his goddamn Handler.

“Hey.”

Yelena stops next to him. She looks into the sky like he does, squints at the stars. If she notices the coat slung over his arm (of course hse notices, he chastises his thoughts), she doesn’t say anything.

“All done?” He asks.

“We should leave before Alexei loots someone’s skull to display on the fake fireplace at home.”

“What, you not a fan of his interior decorating choices?”

Yelena snorts.

banners by @/cafekitsune

[sl0t4matt]

hard launch with hector fort 🙏🏻🙏🏻

h. fort | hard launch

love love this trope. thank u, anon!! also added a few more posts than just the hard launch hope u don’t mind :)

youruser kinda in my wag era rn

liked by hctorforrt_ and 679.055 others

random OMG WHAT

random she’s fine af how did he pull her lmao

╰┈➤ random they are both very attractive bro

random did somebody say hard launch?!

yourbestfriend hottest wag

╰┈➤ youruser luv u

random who’s she and why is she with hector

╰┈➤ random prolly his gf

hctorforrt_ i still don’t know what that means

╰┈➤ youruser r u slow i told you like 10 times

lamineyamal thank god i can’t keep secrets

╰┈➤ youruser 🙄🙄

╰┈➤ random lmao lamine knew

random can someone watch my grwm? 🥺

╰┈➤ random no 🥺

marcguiu9 someone took my bitch

╰┈➤ youruser bohoo 🥺

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ marc 😫🫃

╰┈➤ youruser homosexuals

╰┈➤ random theyre dating atp

╰┈➤ random LMAO i love her 😭

random noo hector 😓

random wha- shocked.

lamineyamal gonna be a long ass era

liked by creator

hctorforrt_ still not sure how i pulled this 

liked by marcguiu9 and 308,940 others

youruser ur cute

random hottest couple

random i think we missed a chapter or two

random crying rn she’s pretty tho

fcbarcelona champ on and off the pitch 🤙

liked by creator

random lol this came out of nowhere

random she’s beautiful

liked by creator

random WTH HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

╰┈➤ random yes and she mogs u

random they compliment each other so well

╰┈➤ random fr both hot af

marcguiu9 i accept i guess

╰┈➤ youruser thank you for your blessing🙏🏼

_ferminlopez my kids

╰┈➤ random daddy

╰┈➤ _ferminlopez come again?

╰┈➤ random oh

random she only wants him for money

╰┈➤ youruser omg you caught me 😰

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ lmao

╰┈➤ random she’s a model i’m sure she has her own money

433 goat good luck!

liked by creator

random HARD LAUNCH ⁉️

hctorforrt_ added to their story

hctorforrt_ she said she would look “so sexy” pregnant

╰┈➤ youruser bitch why would u post that (i would totally rock being preggo)

hctorforrt_ wym you always look good (only with my children tho)

youruser you flirt 🤭 also i’m totally not letting you get away with this

hctorforrt_ yeah sure

hctorforrt_ i was zipping up her dress lol

liked by youruser and 208.086 others

youruser stop talking big you literally couldn’t do it for shit

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ i did it in the end tho

╰┈➤ youruser yeah when we were already late

random the last one 😍 she’s so cute

lamineyamal papi when r u posting yourself 🥵

liked by creator

╰┈➤ paucubarsi i miss his face too 😔

╰┈➤ marcguiu9 me three

╰┈➤ youruser ew

╰┈➤ random they are so funny 😭

youruser i’m gonna get revenge for the story wait up

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ shivers down my spine 😱

╰┈➤ youruser okay bitch it just got worse

paucubarsi i think she has something on her nose

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ omg really bro 😱

╰┈➤ youruser leave him alone 🙄

random it’s always the models

╰┈➤ random literally stop calling yourself a fan when you say shit like that

╰┈➤ random just let him be happy omg?!

youruser i’m kind of liking this wag lifestyle

liked by marcguiu9 and 469.976 others

marcguiu9 JAJAJAJAJA

liked by creator

random omg haha hector looks so cute in that picture

lamineyamal slaying fr

╰┈➤ youruser ate fr

paucubarsi the pic of hector is killing me

╰┈➤youruser u and everyone else

hctorforrt_ you’re evil

╰┈➤ youruser it’s your own fault 🥱

hctorforrt_ just because i’m in love w u doesn’t mean u can do shit like that!!!

╰┈➤ youruser aw you’re in love with me 🤭

lamineyamal nah deserved after that story

╰┈➤ youruser i know right!

╰┈➤ paucubarsi fr did you dirty with that

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ you’re supposed to be MY friends?!

╰┈➤ youruser hah! they love me more

fcbarcelona hector always been a culer 💙❤️

liked by creator

random why is no one talking about how good she looks?!

liked by creator

[nohoperadio]

I went to the Wikipedia page on Les Champs magnétiques (a French surrealist novel written entirely as automatic writing, i.e. typing whatever words come into your head without trying to make them mean anything), which is one of the Wikipedia pages I remember being fascinated by as a young teen first discovering Wikipedia, when at least a couple of you were literally not even born yet, or like barely born. The very short article hasn't changed much since 20 years ago except that the example passage they quote is now a different one for some reason, which I noticed immediately on account of the vibes being wrong despite the new passage also mentioning train stations, and I had to go back to an older revision to see the one I remember from my youth:

The marvellous railway-stations never afford us shelter anymore: the long passages terrify us. So in order to go on living these monotonous minutes must still be stifled, these scraps of centuries. Once we loved the year's last sunny days, the narrow plains where our eyes' gaze flowed like those impetuous rives of our childhood. There remain nothing but reflections now in the woods repopulated with absurd animals, with well-known plants.

For some reason I felt like going back even further to the very first version of the article, created May 8th 2004, and I was rewarded with the fact that the user who initially created the article for Les Champs magnétiques (and the current version is still mostly their work actually) decided to get a bit self-referential and wacky with it; this is how their original version ends:

Keeping the spirit of surrealism, the rest of this entry is done using automated writing (spelling mistakes and all): A strange french book, is this book. I can try to read it but sometinmes I have trouble, especisallym wsince my essay is due in Monday. I have boorrowed a lot of books from the library. Perhapos I can do an automated essay? I mentioned it to my lecturerer and he said it would not work. I wonder if the wiklipedia people will accept this entry. I think they are too strict and it is a pity that surrealism is not an accepted technique if these people knew anything about post-modernism they would realise that everythign like this is valid on some level althought I guess I haven't really spoken about the book, yeah its good, there is poetry towards the end so it's not really a novel.

[midnightshindig]

a platonic drabble for cecil who has a kid that’s just like him and also ends up majorly scarred while saving someone on a mission?

Cecil & family!Reader hcs

Oooooo I like this, you guys really wanna tear this guy apart

Hcs below the cut!

You're his pride and joy

literally the exact same as him like to the way you take your coffee and the way you button your cuffs

From the first time Cecil got called into the office because you "organized detention" to fit your whims

God he's so proud

You're the product of a one-night stand with a visiting alien gone very wrong, dumped at his doorstep at the ripe age of four

it's just been you and him ever since

Cut to years later, and your powers have manifested, and he's all but forced to put you in the field

"You can either send me on missions, or I'm gonna start roaming the streets to fight crime on my own."

God you're gonna give him a heart attack

and so he agrees to put you, his fifteen year old pride and joy, into the field

Donald finds him like completely hungover the next morning cuz he's just so fucking stressed

After a few good missions, though, you prove to be like him in other ways:

you're dependable, a good listener, you follow orders flawlessly and improvise like a pro

Well, he guesses you are a pro now.

You're going on missions relatively frequently, still smaller fish but your powers aren't too insanely useful, you're more like a glorified and enhanced spy than anything.

A lot like he was.

This mission is bog standard, local cult in Midnight City that Darkwing II has requested assistance with since he's too busy with Guardian stuff

And so you go undercover in this cult, robes, rituals, the whole affair

Why is it always Midnight City?

ugh.....

You're handling it like a champ, though, and Cecil's sending backup

The backup is ON. ITS. WAY.

"Do not engage, Y/n, the cavalry is coming, you did good, now just hang tight and don't cause a scene."

He can hear you scoff, not able to verbally respond due to your yknow, undercoverness

What he can't see is that this cult is in the middle of some mad witchy shit, super culty, ritualistic sacrifice aplenty and you're helpless to stop it, at least without a lot of people getting hurt.

You have no idea what's going on, but you overhear two cult members talking to one another

"So what's this ritual for again?" "The spiritual cleansing of the world, dumbass. We're going to rid this world of filthy sinners with the cleansing blood of our leader"

Oh. I guess that guy on the ritual table does look like the cult leader.

You squint from a few rows back to get a better look at him-yeah- yup, that's definitely him.

His blood flows through the grooves in the table, onto the spell circle underneath

Much to your surprise, the circle actually begin to glow a familiar glow

the magical glow of a pre-explo-

BOOM

Cecil only hears you swear quickly before his line gets cut, and its all hands on deck.

Shortly after the explosion, the backup arrives, their priority getting as much of you out in one piece

It's a similar case to Cecil, saving whatever skin they can and grafting it onto you, and offering you the choice to get it replaced with fake skin.

You can't do it, though, but not for the same reason as your father

oh my god you're such an asshole

Cecil teleports straight to the side of your bed, checking you for harm after the doctors finish their procedure on you

"Y/n- fuck- stay with me kid- are you okay? Tell me you're okay." He's a little fast talking, but otherwise he holds himself together remarkably well.

Unti he notices your face

From the bottom of your mouth curving around the left half of your jaw, and down your neck, is burnt skin

Your shoulder and hand on the same side have similar burn marks

"Why?" He asks, softly, praying he hasn't burdened you with the same guilt he's felt since his own incident.

You give him a wide grin, uncharacteristic of the stoic relationship you shared

"I did it because it looks sick as hell! Don't you think?"

Oh man, you're such an asshole.

He ruffles your hair and groans

"You pull it off"

and that's good enough for him.

he's never letting you on another mission ever again omg

[weluvwbb]

Request for Emily her trying to teach reader how to play basketball and if it’s a shorter reader em can like pick her up so she can dunk and shootn

thanks for the rec anon!!

Mind Over Matter

“please y/n, just this once ill do anything” emily pleads.

“you said that last time you wanted to do my makeup” you say unconvincingly

“i swear i will just please just me teach you how to play” emily asks

“fine” you say

“yes! thank you, thank you, thank you” emily cheers

you go to your shared room with emily to get dressed, you come out with one of her old Louisville jerseys paired with your biker shorts.

“damn ma you look amazing in my jerseys, i might need to give you some more often” she says walking up to you with her hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“alright lover girl cmon lets get this over with” you say smugly with a smirk

time skip

after getting to the gymnasium emily goes into a supply closet and comes back with 2 racks of basketballs.

you turn to her “are all those for me?” you say confused

“yeah i thought that since you’ve never played you might need a lot of tries to make it in” emily says teasingly

“hey! i’m not gonna make any with that attitude” you say jokingly hitting her stomach

you got to pick up the ball and right as you about to shoot emily says “make sure you keep your arm in that L shape and push through to shoot the ball in the perfect arch.”

“babe i hope you know i know how to shoot a basketball” you say smugly

“alright my bad” emily doubtingly says raising her arms in surrender

you stand at the free throw line and shoot the ball and….it goes in

swish

you look at emily with a smirk on your face

“okay that was good i guess” emily says smiling

“you guess?! okay how about we play HORSE?” you say

“okay babe but dont cry when i win” emily says jokingly

“i wont” you say rolling your eyes

you pass the ball to emily who sets the tone with a layup

“really em i though you would go a little harder than that” you say making the layup

it was your turn and you go for a 3 pointer, easily banking the shot

you look at her dusting off your shoulders “lets see you make that em” you say jokingly

she looks at you in shock, confused on how who she thought was a beginner was banking shots left and right

for the next shot emily goes for a dunk, successfully making it in she turns to you, passing you the ball with a cheeky grin

“let’s see you make that champ” she says sarcastically

you go in for the dunk, but can’t seem to get the ball to go in the hoop, your fingers are just brushing the rim

“and the crowd is shocked, the D1 athlete can’t make a dunk, thought that trick would’ve been in your sleeve for sure.” emily says jokingly

“yea, yea, we both know i was almost there” you say while rolling your eyes

emily then proceeds to walk to the side of the hoop

“try again” she says with a smile

“no way, we both saw my first attempt” you say, laughing

“just trust me you’ll make this one, i can feel it” she say persistent

“okay, but if i don’t you have to admit that you were wrong” you say smugly

“ok, deal” she says

you grab another ball, and go to stand at the middle of the 3- point line

you run up to the hoop feeling your hand brushing the rim

but before you could come back down you feel two hands on your hips lifting you just high enough to dunk

you push the ball in the hoop and come back down smiling and lookin go at emily

“real funny em” you say sarcastically, yet still smiling

“i told you, you could do it, i felt it in my bones” she say smirking.

[dailytomlinson]

There's a song on his last record, we're in the middle of doing his new one but on his last record there's a song called — it's one of my favorite titles— it's called 'She Is Beauty We Are World Class' right and we were on the train on the way to work with him and I went to the toilet on the train and there was grafitti on the wall, someone had written "She Is Beauty" and next to it, I don't know if it was the same person or someone else, had written "We Are World Class". I was like 'That's fucking cool' and I took a picture of it, went back to my mate Theo who I was writing with and we were like "That's a song title". What's interesting is the picture is on my instagram and after the album came out, the fans were like "Oh my god, tell us about it" and I was "To be honest, I was just having a piss, there's not much to tell!" But yeah, the level of attention that people get at that level of fame, some of them, some people I guess will be deeply, deeply affected by it but I really respect the people who are able to just go "whatever!"

David Sneddon on his experience with Louies and the impacts of fame to The Champ and Contender Podcast

[quickstappen]

track 001: end of the beginning

A/N: hello, welcome to another smau i guess, enjoy? this is the real reason why the latest part of carved my name was up so late yall ;) oscar won his first race and i had to do something!! i'm sorry to all the carlos fans, but someone's gotta be the bad guy, yk?

masterlist | next

december 2019

liked by prema_team, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz I can't believe it is time to go, it still doesn't feel real. Thank you for those amazing years together, for the memories and happiness, I couldn't wish for better team, better friends, I love you all and I'll miss you tremendously. Cheers to the next chapter in our lives.

see all comments...

prema_team We'll miss you vice-champ! Make sure to visit when you're around ❤️

↳ paola_sainz of course! I'll visit so much you'll get sick of me ;)

sainzssss_ noooooooo, what???

shithappens what. the. fuck.

carlossainz55 Excited for your new journey! Now you can spend more time in my garage 🔥😎

↳ paola_sainz yeah, im so excited too!

↳ quickstappen this seems... dry

↳ albono_23 right???

ilpredestinatox oh noo! you were the reason i decided to follow my dreams and go to college for mechanical engineering, i can't believe you're not gonna be racing anymore

↳ paola_sainz oh sweetie, i'm so glad you're following your dreams! dm me if you have any enfeneering problems - i can ask around and get back to you ;)

↳ nyoomf1 she's so sweet 🥹

arthur_leclerc I'll miss your annoying face you know? (only a tiny bit)

↳ paola_sainz acting like you won't see me at basically every race anyway (i'll miss you too) 🤍

↳ arthur_leclerc 🤍

view more...

february 2024

liked by arthur_leclerc, jensonbutton and others

paola_sainz does it ever drive you crazy...?

3 years ago i was broken beyond recognition, i lost my purpose and will to carry on, i thought that without racing i was noone. to think that the same girl just sold out her first collection of athletic wear is absolutely crazy, i can't believe how far we've come and i can't wait to see what else we can do

see all comments...

carlando333 girl 💀💀

↳ ilpredestinatox what do you mean, tf

↳ carlando333 Carlos literally just lost his seat for next year

↳ ilpredestinatox well, this is not carlos' page is it? she's not his keeper, she's allowed to be her own person

cuddlyxricc can she like,, read the room?

byelandoo lol, she does not care about the ferrari drama AT ALL

carlove55 are you gonna comment on the carlos situation??

shithappens she looked so happy when she was racing 🥺 i still can't accept that i'll never see her in a f1 car

↳ quickstappen right??

arthur_leclerc i am going to model the next collection

↳ paola_sainz don't know if you've noticed, but i make WOMEN'S athletic wear

↳ arthur_leclerc you just don't want to see me slay

↳ paola_sainz do not say slay ever again

charlosp1 💀

spanishxbabe so Carlos means nothing to you?

jensonbutton So proud! Brittany loves her set 🧡

↳ paola_sainz 🧡

charles_leclerc Knew you could do it Lola 🤍

↳ paola_sainz thank you for believing in me Charlie 🤍

view more...

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz oh baby, how good to see you again!

(also, charles_leclerc go and win me a race please, i don't know how many forza ferrari sempre's i have left in me)

see all comments...

shithappens i'm sorry, is that a man? with my wife?

quickstappen queen is back in paddock!

arthur_leclerc so the ones with me in them were not good enough to make it, but the random one with him tying you're shoelaces made it?

↳ paola_sainz guess so, try harder next time

screwderriaf1 she's so real for that, Charles for WDC2024

↳ ilpredestinatox GIRL, be so fr rn

↳ screwderriaf1 just let me dream man

carlando333 oh come on! she doesn't care about carlos at all! fucking snake, thinking she's better than him🐍

logansargeant nice of you to visit old friends

↳ paola_sainz we're literally going for lunch tomorrow?

↳ sheilaxf1 they know each other??

↳ lewibear yeahh, since her time at prema i'm pretty sure

charles_leclerc Yeah, no pressure right

↳ paola_sainz you know it ;)

charlosp1 did she really say that she wishes that charles won and not her brother who's fighting for his future this season 💀

redmilton Paola Sainz soft launching a white man in the year 2024 was not on my bingo card

cuddlyxricc sorry but first no comment on carlos' seat and now this? yeah no, not cool

elmatadorf1 traitor! rooting for charles when your brother lost his seat because of him 🐍

madi_races is my girlfriend in a relationship with a.... man??

predestined55 absolutely no honour, not surprised tbh after seeing who she hangs out with 🐍

darth_nando can we please stop mentioning Carlos in every comment section under her posts? it's so unnecessary

view more...

paola's messages:

YouTube, Screaming Meals | now playing:

↳ 01:52s - - - > - 04:37s

↳ 21:46s - - - > - 29:31s

↳ 52:14s - - - >- 1:08:11s

paola's messages:

madi's radio: okay look, the text between Spanish speakers.... i do not know Spanish and putting entire conversations through google translate is not the best, so let's just pretend they're in Spanish, yeah?

click here to be added to the hiding in the seams taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[nukhaos]

TW : NSFW, no beta readers we die like men, wrote it for a friend 🫰🏻💕 English is not my native language, small breeding kink and pinning, fuck the scientific explanation on how you can take him, m!reader

ONE SHOT

DR PHOSPHORUS

You're a member of the creature commando and have a crush on the neon green skeleton man.

It was a weird feeling for both of you; Being part of a team, or more, being part of a team again for you. You couldn’t stop looking at the neon figure standing almost a foot taller than you, body made of toxic gas and of a skeleton face showing a smile always looking too happy to be where he was. You were not sure if he was made of flesh anymore, didn’t have the occasion to touch to prove your theory that, maybe, some part of his body was saved after whatever happened to him couldn’t even guess if he had any organs left. 

You were seated in the kitchen of the castle, waiting for Rick and the princess to be done with whatever they were doing, not that you really cared anyway. Nina and Bride were making an inventory of what would be needed if they were to pack their bags and leave this shithole of a place, you were not even sure wi-fi existed in this country but you sure weren’t here to invent it and you were starting to feel so fucking bored.

And suddenly he was here, looking at you like you were holding a secret of some sort from him. Well okay, maybe it was true, you were attracted to the man…the skeleton ? The thing ? Fuck, okay maybe the name of the squad made more sense, “ creature commando” rang weirdly to your ears at first, but you couldn’t say weasel wasn’t a creature of some sort, the same did go for Nina. 

“ Why do you look so serious, data guy?” He suddenly asked, after a few minutes of just looking at your face who was wearing a frown he never saw before. You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at the comment.

“ Data guy ? Really ? Is that all I am ?” Defiance, maybe he liked it a little too much, but you couldn’t even guess if he was smirking, smiling, or even frowning.

“ For now, yeah, but, maybe you could be so much more.” A bony hand was tentatively going a little too close to your face, you could almost feel the burn. You really could be so much more, you weren’t a creature, just like the boss of your team, you weren’t even supposed to really be on the field to fight. You were here to look, gather information about the team, each of them. Echoes of Nina and Bride in the back of the room who were tentatively laughing and trying to get the focus of Dr Phosphorus out of you. “ Come on, leave him alone, of course you’re important." Nina placed, while the  scoff of Bride came to your ears and her hand started going over Nina’s waist to guide her out of the room.

Alexander Sartorius, as you could read in his files, was standing above you the minute they exited the room, hands on each side of your thighs, face so close you wondered if you were going to be intoxicated either by his closeness or just his body. He could clearly see your eyes full of questions, of a tantalizing analysis of your person. Who were you ? Why did you accept to be here with the freaks that they were ? Everything, but not one sound to go toward directly asking. You could almost smell his breath. 

“ Why are you bent over me like that, d’you like me that much doc ?” You could almost see him shiver at the sound of your voice so close to his ears. 

“ You’re a mystery, it’s fun.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “ Collecting data on all of us, but what about you ? What makes you special champ?” His hand grew closer to your thigh, ready to pierce a hole in your pants that were supposed to protect you from his burn while you were sitting with him in the fuckass bus they gave you to travel the city. 

“ I ain’t special, and you’re too close.” Even if somehow you were tempted to become someone else than human suddenly if it meant he could touch you. He didn’t even made a move to get away from you, and your reflexes to go away from him made you almost lay entirely back on that kitchen table. Weird position to be found in, you’d agree, but somehow it left you excited, waiting like a fucking pray to be devored and eaten whole by the man you could guess by the shape of his oh so strange body, if you could call it that.

“I’ll find a way to break…your walls.” You’d almost laugh if you weren’t scared of the wood beneath his hands to start burning like you felt your cheeks start to burn, bright eyes who examined what situation you fucking landed on. “ Did the adventure of Rick and the dilf-chaser princess turn you on ? Are you that desperate ?” You snickered, maybe you were trying to make him back off, or maybe you were trying to see if he was serious about it, he didn’t seem serious about anything ever after all.

His hand suddenly pressed on your jaw, making your entire body face him, making you look at him, a split second where the burn would have destroyed your jaw but the quick pain only made you shiver, he wasn’t touching long enough to even make a blister. 

“What if I am ? What would you do ? Should I try to ask the S.H.A.DE to make you a special suit so you could handle all I've got ? Would you beg for it ?” You couldn’t hide the laugh growing in your chest, you were used to Harleen flirting with you, or even Digger trying to not be too awkward while talking to you, but this was new, it felt more serious, like he would really do something about it even if it meant changing you at your core. 

“ We’re not at this point of our relationship yet, Alexander.” And he backed away, just like that, like it’s been a decade someone didn’t call him that name.

“ I’ll see you later.” He huffed, almost offended or maybe turned on by you using his name.

You’ll see where it goes, if all that was supposed to go toward something.

—

You started to think about it, turning left and right in the bed you had at your disposal for the time being. You didn’t really know anything about Alexander, well, Dr Phosphorus, or really anyone else, you catched glimpse of their stories in the files you were reading. Should you really be falling for a criminal ? Again ? It was always like that with you, asking you stupid questions and re-questioning everything again and again instead of sleeping to be somewhat efficient on the field. But maybe, it was because of that specific quirk of yours that you noticed the creaking of the door being open making you push your body up on your elbows in the dark of the room ‘till a well known light now acted as a fucking lamp in the small bedroom.

“What the fuck.” You whispered, and he just shrugged, you guess he couldn’t sleep either anyway, hearing the moanings and obscene squelching of your fish friend and her undead girlfriend some rooms away from you. 

He took your earlier conversation  seriously, maybe too seriously, but somehow you weren’t disappointed at all, he had something on his mind and you weren’t the one who would deny him. You craved him like a cigarette, and quite literally he could burn your lungs if he wanted, you’d die happy. Such a weird way to die but eventually you’d be gone doing something you wanted, being railed to death, such a poetic way to go. 

You looked at his figure, cocking your head on the side with a quiet “why are you here ?”.

So many questions not answered, did he even sleep ? How ? How his clothes were not burning ? Why was he coming closer and closer to the bed? 

You felt the weight of the mattress shift under his weight, you didn’t really register he had some weight to him. “ I thought about it. I would burn the world to bring some heat to you. And you always fucking looks cold kid.” It was enough to send you into another dimension, for fucking real ? You knew the man for maybe a week and he was already in your bed ready to do god only knows what to you. 

“ But how ?” And it didn't even need an answer, sharp toothy mouth against yours, he found a way, didn’t know how, didn’t care about the science behind it. Hands on your waist and you couldn’t let him think he was winning, couldn’t let him think you were so easily earned. “ Me first.” You had this know-it-all look to your face, this smirk who said you were gonna fucking eat him alive. And you didnt care for any blisters, any burn scars, building this moment since you laid eyes on him, the monster fucker you could add to your fucking resume. 

It honestly felt weird, to touch him, like a transparent body, you could see every bone but somehow couldn't reach it, it was deep, carnal, feral even, the way you were bobbing your head only to make him moan, fingers deep in someone you couldn't hide anything going on. There would be retribution for that, for being deep inside his body, enjoying the warmth, when he was only gasping for air and trying to scratch each part of your back without burning it to a crisp.

“ I could make you pregnant” You couldn’t, realistically, but you could always try again and again till your brain was only much from the toxic gas you inevitably inhaled while kissing him and pressing your body against his. “ I could make you pregnant.” He said, gripping a handful of your hair and maybe he was serious too, or it was just another one of your bickering, both of you always trying to have the last word. Rubbers piling him in the corner of the bed and condensation piling on the windows. He flipped you like you weighed nothing, pressed your head against the pillow like you did to him an hour ago. 

A battle for dominance and it was like you were really part of something again, bony fingers digging deep in the dimples of your back, probably bruising you inside as much as he did outside. You were gasping for air, gasping for more, begging for the moment to never end. “ What we’ll name it huh ?” He said, wrapping a hand around your throat to be able to bring you closer to his chest and turning your head just enough to be able to kiss you. “ Shut the fuck up and work” You hissed, didn’t want to talk, lost in the cloud of pleasure you were feeling.

You ended it by sharing a cigarette, face burrowed intermittently in his neck, wondering what the other teammates would say about the noises going out of both of your throats. But it was a problem for later, you wanted to forget you had a world to save.

[wonderjanga]

Magic Alzheimer’s

Billy confuses the details of his life with the past champions lives. It can be small things,

Flash and Marvel: *chatting*

Marvel: *gets a notification in his comm* “Ah, one sec Arit.” *looks at his comm*

Flash: “Arit…?”

Marvel: “Huh?” *looks back at Flash*

Flash: “Arit. What’s that?”

Marvel: *stares for a solid second* “Uh… A friend? From a long time ago.” *looks back at his comm and taps some buttons*

Flash: “Oooooh. What, do I remind you of him?”

Marvel: *doesn’t really know if he should be sharing these details, and clearly sounds hesitant* “A little I guess? You’re both speedsters.”

Flash: “Wait, really?? How long ago was this??”

Marvel: “Like… six thousand years ago.”

Flash: “Aw dang.” *disappointed because he wanted to be friends with another speedster*

Flash later had a slight mental breakdown wondering if Marvel was only friends with him because he reminded him of this Arit guy.

There’s also sort of the big things.

Flash: “Dude, he’s been at this for like twenty minutes.”

GL: “Really?”

Marvel: *sitting at a table having a full blown conversation with himself*

GL: “Should we go stop him?”

Flash: “Yeah, we should. Every time I see his arm move, I keep thinking he’s going to knock over the glass of water I forgot to drink.”

There is in fact, a glass of water near Marvel’s arm.

GL: “Hasn’t that been there like for a week?”

Flash: “I think so.”

GL and Flash: *stare at Marvel*

Flash: “Okay, yeah, let’s go stop him.”

GL and Flash: *just about to go approach Marvel*

Marvel: *finally accidentally knocks over the glass which literally stops him dead, mid convo as he slowly looks over to it in confusion*

As for the sudden confusion from Billy? See, in his point of view, he wasn’t even him, he was a previous Champion who was chatting with a friend. He was literally reliving the memory. He could feel the heat in the air, and how the wind would blow sand every now and then. When he knocked the glass over, that literally shattered the illusion that he was there with the friend. In the end, he just ended up shaking his head and getting up from where he was sat.

GL and Flash: *watch him leave*

Flash: “I guess he didn’t need our help after all?” *still sounds a little concerned*

Soon after, Flash, GL, and the rest of the Justice League noticed things like this happening more and more frequently. So, they all huddled together one day in a meeting room.

Flash: “Dude, I think Cap is getting Alzheimer’s or something.”

Supes: “What?”

Flash: “I mean, think about! Think about all the stuff we’ve seen recently.”

Supes: *actually thinks and starts to look horrified* “Oh my God.”

WW: *sounds rightfully upset* “He could have it. Although it’s unlikely.”

Batman: “Even if it’s unlikely, it’s still a possibility. Captain Marvel seems to predate Mesopotamia.”

GL: “Mesopotamia?!”

Batman: “Yes. So, unfortunately, this could mean be his age catching up to him.”

All of them were heartbroken.

Also, the previous Champions have also gotten the Alzheimerness too. This includes the Wizard, Adam, Aman, and literally everyone but the first, second, and third Champion because it started showing after the third Champ.

[nickeverdeen]

The Jam Jar War | Vi x fem!reader

Pairings: Vi x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Comedy

Warnings: None

Summary: Wanting to suprise you with a breakfeast is not something Vi usually does, but it’s not a bad thing. So when she does decide to suprise you, all goes well except for when the infamous Jam Jar war happens.

—————————

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains of your shared apartment, the warm glow kissing the tops of the furniture. It was early, far too early for you, as you were still cocooned in the comfort of your bed. However, Vi was wide awake, prowling in the kitchen with a sense of determination.

She had woken up with the noble intention of surprising you with breakfast, thinking it was about time she returned the favor. Tea? Check. Bread? Toasted to perfection. Jam? Well… that’s where the trouble began.

Vi glared at the stubborn jar of blackberry jam as if it were her mortal enemy. She’d already tried everything—tapping the lid, using a dish towel for extra grip, and even wedging a spoon under the edge to break the seal. Still, it refused to budge.

She gripped the jar tighter, her biceps flexing as she twisted with all her strength. Nothing. Not even a squeak of movement. Finally, in a fit of desperation, she slammed the jar on the kitchen table with a loud thud.

The noise reverberated through the apartment like a miniature earthquake. Vi froze, suddenly remembering you were still asleep in the other room. “Shit,” she whispered, glancing toward the bedroom with guilt written all over her face.

Moments later, she felt familiar arms wrap around her waist, your warmth pressing against her back. “Morning, champ,” you mumbled sleepily, voice muffled as you buried your face in her shoulder.

Vi sighed, leaning back into your embrace. “Sorry, babe. Did I wake you?”

“It’s fine,” you assured her, rubbing your eyes before noticing the jar on the table. You raised an eyebrow, immediately piecing the situation together. “Ah… the infamous jam jar battle.”

Vi stiffened slightly, instinctively stepping in front of the jar as if to shield it from your gaze. “What? Nah. I was just… testing the table’s sturdiness.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, clearly unconvinced. You stepped around her, reaching for the jar. “Let me—”

“You don’t have to—” Vi began, but you were already twisting the lid.

It took a few tries, and you even made a little face as you strained, but with a satisfying pop, the lid finally gave way. “Got it” you announced triumphantly, setting the jar down with a grin.

Vi just stood there, staring at the open jar as if it had betrayed her. This was her thing—opening jars, breaking seals, being the strong one. It was practically a tradition in your relationship. The fact that you had managed to do what she couldn’t left her momentarily speechless.

“Breakfast?” you asked cheerfully, oblivious to the existential crisis unfolding in Vi’s mind.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Vi muttered, her gaze still fixed on the jar.

You hummed happily as you started preparing breakfast, occasionally handing Vi tasks to help. She followed your instructions automatically, still distracted by the earlier event.

By the time breakfast was ready, Vi had recovered slightly, though her pride was still a little bruised. As you sat down to eat together, she looked at you with a mix of admiration and mild betrayal.

“You know,” Vi said after a few bites, “I’m always the one who opens jars.”

“Guess it was my turn,” you teased, nudging her playfully.

Vi narrowed her eyes at the jam jar sitting innocently on the table.

You laughed, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Later that afternoon, Vi disappeared into the small gym in the apartment building.

You, meanwhile, lounged on the couch with a smug smile, knowing you’d just unintentionally given her a new source of motivation.

[bahngarang]

chapter 10.0 ☆ all in

wc: 5,115

cw: swearing, needles, little bit of blood, crying, science talk

a/n: *throws my genetics special interest at you and runs away* (this is not the end)

I promise this is not as angsty as the warnings make out to be haha

I was going to get this out earlier but I got my period and got sick at the same time so I've been completely wiped out... rip

"we know."

of course. of course. well, that solved one problem... sort of. not really. but it definitely made it a whole lot easier.

yn glanced down at their knee, exposed but framed by some hot pink kt tape with a barbie hot wheels pattern, before looking back up at the trio, nodding tersely. "... yeah." they muttered, leaning against the doorframe, gently scratching bingus's fluffy butt.

their soul mark wasn't completely there yet, but it was more readable than it had been in the last 11 years. it was strangely satisfying, watching it come back together. yn had spent some time examining it after their encounter with minho and seungmin a week ago, seeing how the pieces had fit back into place. it didn't hurt, it felt... odd. a light but annoyingly noticeable sensation under their skin. itchy, the kind of itchy that you couldn't get at.

"who's at the door?" minji called out from back in the apartment.

yn looked back over their shoulder at their friends, grimacing a little as bingus dug his claws into their shoulder to prevent falling off, and definitely made it known that he wasn't happy with their movement.

it really was good timing... just, not so great at the same time if the trio hadn't wanted to be seen by anyone else. yn sighed quietly, pinching their brow. "just... come in, I guess..." they said wearily.

this late in the evening was not the time for thinking very deeply. they could already feel a headache forming. maybe that was just from the stress-induced jaw clenching that had started up again today. thinking about how to break it to your best friend that you'd been hiding a major secret from him for almost a decade was... definitely not the easiest.

the vibe was awkward. not really the relaxed lego building session it once was – although, how relaxed it was in the current situation was debatable. chika, ever the unflappable, took it in her stride like a champ.

"oh my god, hii," she said, smiling and waving at hyunjin. "it's good to see you again."

hyunjin looked a little surprised for a second, but returned the action with a small grin. the three newcomers stood close together just inside the entryway, like something would bite if they moved any further in. that something would probably be bingus, so maybe it was smart.

seungmin was somewhat calm, hands in pockets as he looked discreetly around the apartment – and suddenly, yn was very aware of the pile of laundry taking up a good amount of the couch, the dishes next to the sink, and the ripped curtains, courtesy of one of bingus's catnip induced zoomies sessions, doing their best to cover the full length window.

hyunjin wasn't so composed. at first glance, he might have seemed it, but the way he was shifting on his feet and fiddling with his flat cap told a different story.

and minho? he was staring straight at yn, assessing them in a way that made them feel like he could see their soul. they hadn't bothered to put much effort in this evening, just a random sonic shirt and some sleep shorts. now yn was wishing that they'd has some premonitory sense and at least worn some proper clothes. it was unsettling, to say the least, his sharp eyes piercing them right to the core. 

"the timing is... truly impeccable," minji said, an amused but mildly baffled expression on her face. she shot a smirk in yn's direction, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'go on' and sat back in her chair, crossing her muscley arms. she was enjoying this immensely. 

"so you figured it out, then?" yn asked quietly, leaning back against their kitchen counter.

"i think the fact that my skin wouldn't stop itching where you touched me for two hours after you left sold it for me," minho said, matter-of-factly. 

"ah. well. that'll do it." yn still didn't completely believe that their soul mark could just change like that at the touch of a soulmate, but the evidence was right in front of their eyes, as much as they were reluctant to believe it. however, they supposed, soul marks in and of themselves were a crazy phenomenon, so was this really anything to be so surprised about? weird miracles of the natural world.

"who are...?" minho trailed off, glancing at yn's friends.

"oh, um. minji and chika," yn replied, pointing at both of them in turn. "my friends. hyunjin's already met chika at a versace event."

"so you're the friend he was talking about," he murmured. "i was right."

"what?"

"nothing."

it seemed minji just couldn't hold it in anymore, and began snickering to herself, the hand in front of her mouth doing absolutely nothing to hide it. not that she was trying to – she was absolutely loving this. chika was less obvious about it, but the expression on her face and the way she was twirling her fork in her hands had a certain air about it.

yn elected to ignore the both of them, rolling their eyes. "why did you bring hyunjin?"

"testing the theory."

well, yn had to respect that. it definitely gave him points in their book. they were all for the scientific method.

"that's fair..." yn leaned back into the edge of the counter as bingus hopped off their shoulders and onto the top. he sat next to them emanating a distinctly superior energy, giving the three men intruding on his property an appraising look. despite his demeanour, yn knew that he viewed every stranger as a new friend, and it would only be a matter of time before he began fawning over them, purring and rubbing all over them like they were covered in catnip. bingus was a weirdly social cat. 

"so, uh..." yn held their hand out to hyunjin. "you wanna test it..?" it wasn't like they didn't already know, but just to cement it, properly. it was really more for everyone else.

hyunjin's gaze immediately dropped to the floor with a bashful expression. for someone who exuded so much confidence on stage, he sure was shy off it. he took a few steps closer, until he was in arms reach, extending his hand out.

the tension in the air was so thick you could almost feel it hanging there. even bingus didn't make a sound, just watching, in opposition to his usual chatty self.

their fingers were just about to touch, but-

"wait."

minji's arm shot out, grabbing hyunjin's wrist at lightening speed. yn made eye contact with her, and they knew they were both thinking the same thing.

"what's going on?" hyunjin asked, a confused furrow forming in his brow.

yn groaned. "dr jang would kill me if I didn't..." they muttered, before darting off further into their apartment in a speed walk.

when they came back, yn was juggling a few things in their hands.

"why the fuck do you have microfuges in your apartment?" minji asked, in what was probably a suitable amount of bemusement. even for the most avid of researchers, it wasn't exactly common to have lab equipment hanging out around your home.

"cuz." yn shrugged, setting down the little rack and placing the microfuges into the slots. "my dad got them for me before I started uni. and a micropipette. real shockingly, I've never used them before."

"what would you even use them for...?" minji blinked in a stupefied manner, before shaking her head. "speaking of... has your dad come around yet?"

yn grimaced. "you'd think, after five years. we talked about it last time I visited... wasted about two hours because apparently the literal fact that sex and gender aren't the same is 'dogma' or something. i've sent him several links to the studies proving it, but... he hasn't responded." pulling the cap off a marker, they numbered the tops of the microfuges, chewing their bottom lip. 

"oof." there wasn't really much else to say. yn had a perfectly fine relationship with their parents other than that... usually. most of the time, yn could forget about the way their parents refused to accept them, but every so often the topic resurfaced and ate at them a little more.

yn pulled out a needle from where they'd stuck it through their shirt, gesturing at minji. "can you- thanks." they mumbled, catching the lighter chucked at them with ease.

"... what are you doing?" minho asked.

"dr jang in my department... she researches soul marks and stuff. i'm pretty sure she'd skin me alive if i didn't get a record of this." it took yn... more than a few tries to get the lighter working. they were never that good at things like that, but eventually they managed to get it working and ran the flame under the needle to sterilize it. "and, like... i get this is a whole thing, but i'm also scared of her, and considering she's never even heard of someone's soul mark remaking itself, i don't think she'd be a massive fan of me if i didn't get some evidence."

"you say that like she doesn't love you," minji said. "you're one hundred percent her favourite colleague."

"to be fair... there isn't much choice," yn said, clearing their throat pointedly. a lot of their fellow professors were a bit... snobby was a way to put it. most of them were older men, who seemed to think they were god's gift to humanity, and demanded respect just because of their age and gender while giving none of their own. sure, they had more experience, but that didn't necessarily mean they were right.

yn was just about to use the needle to draw some blood, when bingus chose that exact moment to make his presence known, throwing his head back with a yowl. "ugh. pest." yn set the needle down, plodding over to the cupboard that housed their multitude of pills and supplements. but first, treats. bingus demanded to be fed at the same time every day, so it was easy to use him as an alarm – give him a treat every day at the same time you took your meds, and you were never allowed to miss them.

"there you go, squish," yn murmured affectionately after shaking out a couple of treats for their cat, stroking down his back. bingus accepted them greedily, wolfing them down while purring loudly.

swapping the treat bag for their pill container, yn sat back down at the table, using their soda to swallow the tablets.

seungmin took that moment to speak up for the first time that night. "that's... a lot."

yn huffed. it was true, they took a lot of medication, but it was for a reason. "if my body was a temple, that temple would be old and crumbling."

"... is that why you have greys already?"

it wasn't like they weren't expecting it. yn's grey streaks still hadn't been re-dyed yet because life had gotten in the way so the roots were showing, and they had a number of grey hairs dotted around their scalp. they'd also seen enough stray kids content to know the amount of old person jokes seungmin made. but this quickly? damn. "um. well. maybe. i think it's just stress and genetics. i promise i'm not that ancient."

seungmin raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips subtly, and cocking his hip to lean against the counter. it was annoyingly attractive.

in a moment of weakness, yn poked their tongue out at him petulantly, before promptly choking on their magnesium supplement. that one always had it out for them, anyway.

by the time it finally went down yn had tears in their eyes and an awful, powdery taste in their mouth.

"having fun there?" chika asked, giggling quietly in a way that yn couldn't even be mad at.

"actually shut the fuck up."

yn winced as they stuck the needle into the tip of their middle finger, before squeezing a few drops of blood into the first microfuge. there were probably better ways to do it, but yn didn't know how or have the equipment for it. a little rudimentary, but anything to save themselves from the wrath of their colleague. 

"you're very calm about this," hyunjin mumbled, looking warily at the needle.

"i've had about 50 blood tests, i'm used to it," yn responded. "should i get saliva samples...? mm.. no, i don't have the patience for that. alright." stretching their arms above their head, yn couldn't help but let out a little groan as their back popped and shoulder clunked concerningly – and notice how hyunjin's eyes darted down to their exposed midriff. they extended their hand to him for a second time. "let's do this."

hyunjin's hand was warm. soft. big. static shocks were swapped between both of their palms as hyunjin tightened his grip. gentle, but firm.

yn felt... odd. the other times, it was in passing. this time it was a thing. they could feel it happening, feel the slight tingle running over their knee, feel how close he was. they squirmed gently in their chair, their eyes darting from their intertwined hands, to their knee, to anywhere else.

out of the corner of their eye, yn could see chika trying to sneakily film the interaction. she wasn't very good at hiding it. maybe it was a good thing. to get more evidence for dr jang.

looking down at their knee again, yn watched their soul mark change for the first time. they almost couldn't believe it, but... there it was. right there. sure, their eyesight was pretty trash but it was pretty hard to deny it like when it was like that.

"woah... that's..." hyunjin looked how yn felt: completely stupefied. it was one thing seeing their mark after the change, but seeing it happen? wild.

"... yeah," yn breathed out. there was no denying it now. the secret was well and truly out. and honestly? it was kind of a relief. yn hadn't realized just how much it had been weighing on them until now. maybe seven years of repression wasn't good for you. who knew? "what... happens now?"

"i think you should come back with us. meet everyone else... we've been waiting to meet you."

"oh i should, should i?" yn asked, letting go of hyunjin's hand and reaching for the needle again. "i... i'm not sure... i have work tomorrow... and bingus... i can't leave him alone..."

"oh, come off it," minji groaned, her exasperation evident. "pack an overnight bag. chika and i can stay here and watch your baby. you've put it off for too long, i'll force you out myself if i have to."

"i-..." yn sighed. an overnight bag? how long would they be staying there? a while, realistically. when it happened, it was going to be a long, uncomfortable conversation, about uncomfortable things – about why they had felt the need to hide for so long from the people that were meant to love them most.

yn glanced over at their friends, at chika's encouraging smile, and minji's insistent expression. if they really wanted to do this, like they said they did, then they had to face the music. "... fine."

everything was in order. kind of. yn had their overnight bag, although there was bound to be at least one thing they forgot, like always. it was inevitable. but it was really happening.

"okay, you can sleep in my bed if you want just-... no freaky stuff." yn gave both girls a pointed look.

"hey! we're not that bad," chika protested.

"i still have stains on my couch." that shut them up. "you know the drill with bingus – he will bite your toes under the covers, if you don't get up to give him food in the morning he will make it your problem, and you know the coffee machine- yeah, you can work it, fine... stay safe. lock the door. everything else."

"it'll be fine," minji reassured them, patting yn on the shoulder. "you don't need to worry about us. go get your guys."

"mm," yn hummed. "but if i find any more weird stains on my furniture, you're buying me new ones. freaks."

"yeah, but we're your favourite freaks," chika said with a wink.

"whatever helps you sleep at night." yn turned to minho (who was currently getting his fingers gnawed on by a very happy bingus), hyunjin and seungmin, trying to work out in their head who would fit best in their extra set of motorbike leathers. technically, they fit chan the best, but those with astute observational abilities could tell that he wasn't here right now. and since two of them were probably too tall, that left minho to go on the bike with them.

they chucked the set at him, which he caught deftly before minho's brain caught up with his hands. he examined them for a moment, holding them up to himself in mild confusion.

"to preface, i'm simply not going in a car, but I also don't fully trust myself to get to a new address alone because i am... directionally challenged."

"do i really need to wear these?" minho asked skeptically.

"do you want a nurse to be picking gravel out of you?" yn asked brightly. "you can be slightly warm and uncomfortable, or unsafe. pick your poison."

sensibly, minho chose to wear the leathers.

"... you good?" yn asked minho as they sat on their bike in the parking garage, inputting the address for the dorms into their phone before zipping into one of their pockets.

minho was... antsy, clipping and unclipping the buckle of the strap on yn's spare helmet. he'd been much more confident about going on the bike with them earlier, in the apartment. currently, he was eyeing it like it would bite him. yn got it to an extent, the first time they'd realised they actually had to ride one, it was pretty daunting. it wasn't like he actually had to do anything, though. just hold on and help in case yn got lost. but right now, he was the one looking lost.

yn stood up off the bike, taking the helmet gently out of minho's hands and fitting it over his head and doing up the strap for him. "comfortable?"

he nodded, searching them with his big, pretty eyes. it wasn't intense, per say, but yn's breath hitched when they caught his gaze, flicking the visor down over his eyes to avoid becoming even more flustered. yn knew that being his soulmate would come with... increased susceptibility to him, but they'd only met minho twice. goddamn.

swinging their leg over the bike, yn sat back down and pulled their own helmet over their head – of course it was matching with the rest of their gear, with cat ears and sanrio decals, because of course.

"uh... you know you have to sit behind me to ride..." minho slid on behind them, and yn could feel the awkwardness radiating from him in waves. "and, um.. hold on to my waist..."

ever so carefully, minho rested his hands around yn's middle. they almost laughed at how light his touch was, knowing it wouldn't remain that way for too long. 

"how are you going to know where to go?" minho asked, his voice slightly muffled.

"my helmet has a bluetooth thing that i can hear directions though. hold on tight," yn warned.

luckily, he heeded their warning as soon as the bike started up, his grip maybe a tad too snug. at least he wouldn't be falling off.

the drive was pretty short, which was a bit of a relief when minho was squeezing yn like a stress ball. he seemed glad to be back on solid ground by the time it was over. seemed... dramatic, but the way he tripped and fell taking off the leathers, and the embarrassed look on his face made yn promise themselves to not tell anyone. for now.

when yn finally walked into the dorm with minho, everything went quiet. not just quiet – dead silent.

yn's heart was pounding against their ribs as everyone turned to look at them from their various positions sprawled out over the couch and the floor. hyunjin and seungmin had arrived there before minho and yn. it was incredibly offputting, having all their eyes on them all at once, and they couldn't help but to fidget anxiously with the hem of their shirt, softly tapping the toe of their shoe against the floor as they leaned against their cane.

"um. hi," yn forced out, their voice hoarse. 

a small gasp came from across the room, deafeningly loud in the quiet space. "are you our..?" felix's voice trailed off, his big brown eyes wide and hopeful.

yn had to swallow down the frog in their throat before they could respond. "i... yes. i am."

yn blinked and felix was in front of them, almost vibrating with excitement. his eyes roamed over their face, drinking in the sight.

they hadn't really known what to expect when it finally happened, but it wasn't... this. a part of yn had always wondered if the first thing people saw about them was the cane, or the tape holding their joints together. to be completely fair, they did make it kind of obvious, with bright colours and patterns, eyes were naturally drawn to that kind of thing – but so was the rest of yn's attire, usually, and their hair. but it seemed like felix's eyes were glued to just... them.

felix reached out hesitantly, his hands hovering in front of yn, but not touching. his throat bobbed as he pulled back slightly, a small, apologetic smile gracing his features.

yn couldn't help but shyly return the smile, before they found themselves being ushered further into the forms and sat onto the end of the couch, everyone else keeping a respectful distance. although, despite the distance, it didn't stop most of them from staring shamelessly.

in lieu of any actual conversation, yn reached into their bag, the keychains attached jingling and clacking against each other, and pulled out their little box of microfuges. they set it on the coffee table along with the needle and lighter.

"sorry about your laptop," changbin muttered sheepishly from beside them. 

yn snorted, unable to hold it back. even now, he was still apologetic about the incident. technically, it had been kind of a big thing – laptops were expensive, and a pretty necessary part of their life... but, then again, he'd rectified it almost as quickly as he'd caused the problem. "it's fine. really."

"you've met before?" jisung piped up, his voice muffled through a mouthful of ramen.

"yeah. he, uh... spilled three drinks over my old laptop. and me."

"did you manage to get the stain out of your trousers?" changbin asked, fidgeting with his chopsticks.

"it took a few goes with the stain remover, but... they're fine now. which is good, because they're my favourite, and if it hadn't come out i might have gone through chan to be reimbursed," yn joked, before they saw his flustered blush get darker. "i'm kidding. i could have replaced them myself. i stain my clothes all the time, it's not a big deal."

"... how many of us have met you before?" jisung asked, furrowing his brows.

"well, we met them through... the cat thing," seungmin said, looking at minho.

"it was the video call for me," hyunjin mumbled, looking vaguely embarrassed.

"i've known chan for, like... fifteen years," yn added after some quick mental maths. time really flew by.

"how old are you?" jeongin asked.

"i just turned twenty nine."

"damn." jeongin cleared his throat, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. "sorry."

"so..." jisung shoved a lettuce leaf into his mouth before continuing, his cheeks puffing up with food. "it's just me, felix and ayen who haven't met you yet?"

yn hummed contemplatively, tilting their head to the side. "i've been in contact with jeongin before. at the dentist. not a proper meeting, though."

"really?" it took a few seconds, but realisation dawned soon enough. "oh. with the hair. right," jeongin said, gesturing at his fringe, more to himself than anyone else.

"and, i'm fairly confident on this..." yn pulled out their phone, snapping a quick picture of their hand before messaging it to what they were almost certain was jisung's number-

-and it was, his phone vibrating half a second later. jisung's eyes bulged out of his head for a few moments as he glanced between his screen and yn's hand repeatedly. 

"how do you have jisung's number?" felix asked.

"oh, i... thought i was texting someone else. she changed her number." yn trained their eyes on the little racks on microfuges, absentmindedly drumming their fingers against their thighs. "and then he said his name was jisung, and he was twenty four and fate had been giving me a kick up the ass so... i kind of thought it would end up like that."

"ah." he nodded slowly. "... what are those for?"

"science stuff," seungmin answered for yn.

"well... yeah, i guess. i'm collecting dna samples for my colleague." yn turned to felix with what was probably a slightly constipated expression and took a breath before asking the question. "can i, um. touch you?"

felix's face went pink. there was a lot of that going around recently. his face didn't move a muscle, he just sat there for a few seconds with a politely mystified expression while his face went several shades darker. 

yn ran through their words in their head. "not- not like that. for the... science stuff. and also it's making my soul mark fix itself? somehow? i'm not sure how that's happening, but it is, and..."

another few excruciating seconds ticked by, before felix's face split into an endearing grin, his eyes sparkling. "you want to hold my hand?"

"i mean, if you're comfortable with that," yn mumbled, taken aback by his enthusiasm.

felix proffered his hand, and yn took it gently, trying not to stare at his arms like a creep. they were nice arms. from a purely anatomical perspective, of course. he had nice veins. yn bet nurses liked him.

getting the dna evidence while working around felix's hand holding was fiddly, but he wasn't letting go any time soon. and yn didn't want to ask him to let go, either, not that they would admit it. they had forgotten how much they enjoyed doing this kind of thing. of course, they did it with chika and minji sometimes; yn and their friends were touchy people. but this was different. more... intimate.

yn's first physical interaction with jisung was much more short-lived, and accidental at that. he reached over to grab his drink, yn went to put the microfuge back in its slot – skin brushed skin, and the two of them locked eyes. jisung blinked, and pulled away as a static shock passed between their fingers. he let out a melodramatic cry, his head falling back into hyunjin's lap, who moved a hand to pat his head with a nonchalance that showed that this wasn't an infrequent occurrence.

"so... you said all of this is a genetic thing?" minho spoke up.

"oh, yeah. they're still not sure what causes it, but... it's different for each group of soulmates, and polygenic if you have more than one soulmate, which is what makes it hard so to study-"

"-polygenic?" jeongin asked.

"caused by multiple genes. but, you know, people are people and have attributed meaning to what they couldn't figure out and given it superstitions and so on. there's... more going on behind it, like something about it makes you produce more oxytocin and stuff around your soulmates. the term is kind of a misnomer."

"wow... you really know how to suck the magic out of it..." seungmin said.

"dude. besides the fact that the marks have our initials, which... like i'm not sure how to feel about that, but either way you look at it, it's kind of insane – do you not see the magic in the way somehow, everything fit so perfectly together to create life? in the way we evolved to have genes that randomly mutated to have random people connected so deeply? just because it's not what you thought it was doesn't make it not special." yn paused their ramble once they realised they were being stared at.

"you have no appreciation for science." they said, fixing seungmin with a blank stare. "science is magic. it doesn't stop being magic because you can explain it." so soulmates weren't technically this big supernatural be-all end-all of love. big whoop. but with the way it made people feel around their soulmates? it might as well be.

"well... that's-" minho was cut off by the sound of the front door to the dorms opening.

everyone turned to see chan walking in through the door, dragging a suitcase with the strap of his other bag hanging off one shoulder. against all odds, he managed to not notice the congregation in the lounge, trudging off into his own room.

it was a few minutes before he re-emerged in a fresh set of clothes, looking just about ready to fall asleep while his stomach growled comically loudly.

when chan finally noticed yn, he stopped in his tracks, standing completely still, like time had suddenly frozen him in place.

and it felt like it had for yn, too. all their denial, all that time spent wallowing in their own pathetic feelings of inadequacy, had let up to this moment.

yn forgot how to breathe when chan finally looked down at the soul mark on their knee, finally looking as it once did back when they were seventeen. readable. obvious as to who their soulmates were.

"yn..." chan said in a rough whisper.

yn stood up shaking, clenching their trembling hands into fists. "chan, i..."

they didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it didn't matter, because they were engulfed in chan's arms a few moments – something that had always been a catalyst for the release of strong emotions, and it was still true now, tears pricking at yn's eyes.

"are you mad at me?" yn asked quietly, tentatively returning the hug as they wrapped their arms around his waist.

"of course i'm annoyed," chan responded.

yn sniffled, squeezing their eyes shut as hot tears began to roll down their cheeks. "i'm sorry," they whispered, voice wobbling. "do you hate me now?"

"hate you? i could never hate you, noona," chan murmured, pressing his face into yn's shoulder and inhaling deeply. "i'm glad it's you."

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a/n: for those of you wondering what a microfuge + micropipette is (ik the pic quality is shit but wtv)

and yes my dad did actually buy me a micropipette. still not sure why. still haven't used it.

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[shurisneakers]

“i know we almost died just now, but… am i the only one who’s hungry?” is so harmless reader core… but what if it was Bucky saying this?

Also hi i love u

hi <3 hey <3 i love u too <3 harmless turns 4 years old next year she's like in school now

Catch up with the rest of the series here!

"Great job, team," you pant, raising your hand for a high five. "I think that was very well handled."

Bucky, still trying to process what exactly the fuck just went down, does not even respond when you match his indifference, dropping your hand to slap it against his.

"Is that how it always goes?" you ask him, looking around the empty lot. "I figured there'd be a lot more zing, y'know? Some oomph. That was like, fine."

The mission was going fine, calm even, until you managed to piss them off, leading to them calling in backup, leading to you both being severely outnumbered, leading to you deciding you'd gotten bored which finally lead to you ending it with a timeout-inator.

Things had exploded, Bucky had to pull down a door to shield you both-- it was a whole thing that he definitely did not mentally prepare for. This was just supposed to be a simple data extraction. He doesn't know at which point nuclear guns got involved.

"How--" Bucky stops mid-sentence, brain scrambling to put together things, "--how did you get assigned on this mission again?"

It wasn't like he claimed to be the expert on all things SHIELD, but he figured that a non-Avenger, non-agent needed a lot of clearance to be allowed on a mission, no matter how mundane the initial objective was. The fact that it devolved into madness was more on you than SHIELD.

"I wrote my name on the sign-up sheet," you explain, smoothing out your singed clothes.

"The what?"

"Fine, you caught me," you give in without even trying, dusting some ash off his shoulder. "I forged my name on some documents, used some white paint. Did an ol' switcharoo. You know how it goes."

"You faked your way here?" he shouts, dropping the damn door he was still holding. "What the hell was your plan?"

"Why does everything need a plan? Why can't I just tag along to see what you do for a living?"

"We nearly got killed. You--"

"But we didn't."

"That is not the point. You said it was a special mission, you said you had clearance from Nick to--"

"I said Nick would give me clearance for anything. And it is a special mission. I'm here, isn't that the specialest gift of all?"

"You didn't ask?" he screeches instead. "How did you get here? Who the fuck was supposed to be here in your place?"

"Clint," you say with a sheepish smile. "He told me he'd wash my garage so we swapped."

That fucking moron. "He'd wash your garage in exchange for you risking your life--"

"I didn't risk anything." You scoff. "I knew we would handle that like champs."

"We nearly got annihilated by a nuclear gun." He drags a hand down his face. "If he didn't trip over your stupid jacket in the last second, we would be dust."

"Well yeah, only if you put it like that," you relent. Bucky glares at you.

You look out at the empty room, one hand on your hip. Lot of rubble and shrapnel in places they had no reason being.

"Huh," you say after a while. "Guess we did just almost die."

"That's it?" he raves, still incredulous. "That's all you have to say?"

"That's crazy-sauce, man," you add, throwing your hands up when he glares at you. "What? What else should I be saying?"

"Where the fuck did you send them?" Bucky finally makes a move, wiping the dirt off his metal fingers onto his cargo pants.

"I put them in timeout," you reply, tapping the gun you'd put back into he pocket of your pants.

"Where is timeout?"

"Like, somewhere outside of time," you dismiss. "Time-out. You get it."

His eyes clench shut, taking a deep inhale in before exhaling, lest he pop a blood vessel.

"We almost died," he tells you again.

"If you say so," you nod.

He stares at you.

You stare right back at him.

The world keeps spinning.

"I'm hungry," he grumbles. "You want lunch?"

"I could go for a sandwich, yeah."