#others are rooting for them to get back together

[omegapausestuck]

I've been thinking, since the act has ended, I've got a prime chance to gather my thoughts; and open a dialogue about the merits and perhaps the pitfalls of the current writing direction of the new comic. Besides, this post was getting WAY too long, so I hope to start a fresh one at the beginning of every act so as not to destroy people's dashes QUITE as much. I've never done a liveblog before, and honestly I wasn't planning to, but it just kind of happened this way, so I'm still figuring everything out. Let me know if you think I'm doing the shittiest job in the world, and you know SO MANY ways to improve it!

Anyway, I think we all know the state of the fandom, when hsbc started updating. We had just come off of the tragic release that was the epilogues, and then the subsequent insult to injury that the previous team had left behind with Homestuck². Nobody was left to believe in this thing, and I was certainly one of them.

I had kind of this general attitude of "Let's all point and laugh at how hard they bungle it THIS time!" but then something strange started happening. The writers were actually listening to the fan feedback, for once, and making marked improvements—in characterization, in tension, in dialogue, in art style, and in scope—it slowly dawned on me that I was genuinely excited to read the next page, not ironically.

I think a part of me wanted this to work, all along. Like sonic fans who had to sit through the most painful, doggiest shit of a game, like clockwork, every year, just in hopes that Sonic Team would get their act together and make something great that they wouldn't have to feel ashamed for their clear, undying love and devotion for the series.

So, when they showed themselves capable of admitting their faults, and refocusing themselves on making something that was completely new, and refreshing—I still cracked jokes, but—I started to root for them, too... and I'll tell you right now, that this era of the comic feels at times more homestuck than Homestuck proper.

These characters are no longer pastiches, or flanderized amalgamations of their various assorted stereotypes, but have a renewed sense of depth, and mature emotional resilience that I found criminally lacking as Homestuck drew to a close.

I've been very vocal about my opinions on Homestuck's "ending," if you can even call it that. It was made by fans, for fans; and it ultimately had nothing important to say about anything actually impactful. All of the themes of adolescence, and child soldiers, and societal indoctrination, and the cold calculus of war were thrown out in favor of the black and white brutality of "Big green man video game boss needs beating," and it's nice to see that depth woven back into the world again.

I'm not going to go into any spoilers, but a few standout moments to me were Jake's speech about believing in all the other Janes enough to give up on the monster this one had become, and Rose opening up about her insecurities with her sociopath of a father, where we realized along with him that he genuinely loves her, and didn't want the burden of being in control. Also, Vriska's whole dream sequence was a very close second that I'd feel guilty to not lend its flowers. (They managed to make me give a shit about her again, and that's an ASK! I was so sick of her raggedy, tired ass schtick! Grow up, bitch!) I'm not sure that the former team would have bothered with those scenes, and they're the most gripping parts of the story, for me.

We're still here because of these characters, and the fact that the authors finally understand that, and are developing them in ways that seem both natural, and respectful, have done more to heal the reputation of this franchise for me than any big multimedia push from the likes of Viz Media, or even Andrew Hussie himself would have, ever, achieved.

Now, we have a chance to see something new, and ambitious. I was cautiously optimistic before, and now I'm essentially just overcome with hope. If this is what we should come to expect from Homestuck in the near future, then we've actually got quite the incredible life ahead of us.

I can't help but look forward to it. How about you?

my reaction to that information.....

I guess this is a thing that's happening.

[goonerforthree]

With you, Always Chapter Two

A/N: I'll try to get chapter three out to you guys tonight. Editing was choppy, so if there are any mistakes, let me know. I didn't really fine-tune the small details this time.

They left Los Angeles under a pale sky streaked with early gold, the kind of quiet fall morning where even the airport felt half-asleep. Paige drove them to LAX with one hand on the wheel and the other linked with Azzi’s across the center console, neither of them saying much, both nursing the kind of tiredness that comes after late-night laughter and unspoken nerves.

Virginia was a different kind of autumn — cooler, softer, the air thick with leaves and memory. When they landed in D.C., Azzi inhaled like she was coming up for air. “Smells like home,” she said, nudging Paige with her shoulder.

St. John’s College High School sat tucked beneath canopies of orange and red, its brick walls the same as when Azzi had last walked its halls. The gym still echoed when the backboard rattled. The bleachers still had her carved initials hidden under the fourth row.

The current team was practicing when they walked in — the shuffle of sneakers, the whistle of a bounce pass. Azzi stepped onto the court with that easy grace that turned heads even now, and within seconds the girls were buzzing around her like she was part legend, part older sister.

Paige watched from the doorway, a small smile tugging at her mouth as Azzi dropped into drills — full-court layups, one-dribble pull-ups, jokes in between. It was like watching a time machine in motion, except Azzi was sharper now, more whole. Comfortable in a way Paige envied.

The coach gave Paige a nod, then leaned in quietly. “She’s always been special,” he said, eyes on Azzi. “Nice to see she’s still humble about it.”

Paige nodded, fingers tightening around the strap of her crossbody bag. “Yeah. She makes it easy to root for her.”

Later, they sat in the bleachers, watching the last scrimmage wind down. Azzi had her arm thrown across the back of Paige’s seat, body warm against hers, laughter still in her throat.

“I missed this place,” she said. “Not the early lifts or the nun who yelled at us for wearing shorts in the halls, but… this.”

Paige rested her head against Azzi’s shoulder. “I get it.”

Azzi turned her head slightly. “You okay?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

She didn’t say what about — how she’d noticed the way Azzi’s dad had been watching them over dinner the night before, the way her mom had quietly refilled Paige’s tea and asked if she was happy. Paige had said yes. Meant it. But she was also planning the biggest question of her life.

And the time to ask was coming fast.

The next morning was gray and gold, the kind of crisp fall air that made everything feel sharper. Azzi stood in front of the mirror tying her hair up, sleeves pushed to her elbows, her gold St. John’s hoodie slightly wrinkled from being shoved in a suitcase. Paige was still curled up under the covers, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly — or pretending to.

“You got any plans today?” Azzi asked, grabbing her sneakers from the corner and sliding them on.

Paige looked up, blinking like she’d just remembered she was supposed to be doing something. “Not really. Thought I’d just hang back here, maybe go for a walk or something.”

Azzi raised a brow. “A walk?”

Paige shrugged, too casually. “Yeah. It’s fall, it’s pretty out. People do that.”

Azzi smirked and grabbed her jacket off the chair. “Right. You and your mysterious walks.”

Paige gave her a lazy smile, but her voice stayed calm. “Who are you meeting again?”

“Laila. We played together here my senior year — she transferred in late but she was like my shadow. Crazy handles. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Nice,” Paige said, stretching a little. “Tell her I said hey.”

Azzi leaned down to kiss her. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Nah,” Paige murmured, fingers brushing Azzi’s wrist. “You should catch up without me hovering.”

Azzi nodded, then narrowed her eyes just a little. “You’re not acting weird again, are you?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Define weird.”

Azzi pointed at her. “That.”

“I’m literally still in bed,” Paige said, laughing.

Azzi lingered by the door for a second longer, like she wanted to say something else but couldn’t find the thread. Then: “Okay. I’ll text you after.”

“Have fun,” Paige said, watching her go.

The door shut with a soft click, and the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.

Paige sat up, letting the blankets fall away, her phone still in her hand — already halfway through a message to Azzi’s dad asking if he had time to talk today.

She stared at the screen for a second.

Then hit send.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon toast and fresh coffee, the windows cracked just enough to let in the fall air. Paige stood at the counter in sweatpants and a St. John’s alumni hoodie that wasn’t hers, slowly slicing an apple she had no intention of eating. She kept glancing at the doorway like it might answer the knot in her stomach for her.

Tim walked in with the ease of a man in his own space, still in basketball joggers and a quarter-zip, a travel mug in one hand and a knowing look already planted on his face.

“I hear you wanted to talk to me, Paige.”

Paige jumped slightly, caught mid-slice. “Morning. Uh… yeah.”

Tim walked to the fridge, opened it like he wasn’t about to rock her entire nervous system, then turned back around slowly. “I already know you’re going to lunch with Katie this afternoon,” he said, sipping his coffee. “But whatever this is must be important. You’ve been weird all morning. So come on. Spit it out.”

Paige set the knife down. Her hand was still holding half the apple, but she wasn’t really looking at it anymore. “Tim…”

He raised a brow.

She took a breath. “I just—I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About… Azzi. About us.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Safe bet.”

Paige gave a dry little laugh. “Right. I guess I don’t know how to start this. It’s not like… I don’t know, a playbook.”

Tim’s eyes softened, just a little. “You’re making it a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

She nodded, looked down, then back up again. “Okay. I love her. Like—I know people say that all the time, and I’ve said it a thousand different ways, but I mean it in the big way. In the—she’s the calm in my brain when it spins, she’s the one who makes me think maybe all the stuff I was scared of growing up doesn’t have to be scary forever—kind of way.”

Tim didn’t interrupt, but he didn’t blink either.

Paige kept going. “I’ve seen her at her worst and still thought she was the best person I’d ever met. She’s not just the love of my life—she’s my favorite teammate, and my safest person, and the one I want to wake up next to when we’re old and creaky and arguing about socks on the floor.”

She paused, eyes suddenly burning. “I don’t just love her. I like her. And I think that’s even rarer.”

Tim waited for a beat. Then: “Paige, spit it out. I know you love her. I’ve seen that since you were sixteen.”

Paige blinked, the breath she didn’t realize she was holding slipping out in a laugh. “Right. Okay. I want to marry her.”

Tim didn’t move.

Paige quickly added, “Not like, tomorrow. But… you know that trip we’re taking to Turks and Caicos in a few weeks?”

He nodded.

“I want to do it then. I have the ring. I’ve had it for a bit, actually. It’s… kind of insane. But I want it to be right. And I figured… if I’m gonna ask her, I should ask you first.”

Tim set his coffee down slowly, the clink of ceramic on granite loud in the silence. Then he gave Paige a long, squinting look. “Wow.”

Paige bit her lip. “Yeah?”

“I knew you had it in you,” he said. “But this? This is next-level Bueckers. Bougie proposal in the islands? You’re not just going for the layup. You’re windmill dunking it.”

Paige grinned, finally letting the nerves fall off her shoulders. “Alright, man. Don’t clown me.”

“I’m not,” Tim said, grinning back. “I’m impressed. Hell, I’m proud. You really do love her.”

“I really do.”

He reached across the counter, clapped her on the shoulder once, firm and warm. “You have my blessing. Of course you do.”

Paige exhaled so hard she almost laughed again. “Thanks. Really.”

Tim picked his coffee back up and started toward the hallway, then paused in the doorway.

“Oh, and Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget—she’s gonna cry like a baby. You better have tissues or something.”

“I’m counting on it,” Paige smirked.

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

Katie stepped into the living room, her jacket slung over one arm and a reusable coffee cup in hand. “You driving or am I?”

Paige looked up from the couch, where she was lacing her sneakers. “I can drive.”

Katie gave a little nod, already heading toward the door. “Good. I’ve been running around all morning. Had a rec center board meeting, then two moms cornered me in the parking lot about the new gym schedule.”

Paige grinned as she stood. “You’re basically mayor of Arlington at this point.”

“Please don’t give them ideas,” Katie said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Let me just be the lady who hands out basketballs and yells at referees.”

They walked out to the car, crisp fall air wrapping around them. Leaves crunched under their shoes as they crossed the driveway. Paige unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat while Katie settled in beside her, sighing like she’d finally sat down after hours on her feet.

As Paige pulled out, Katie glanced over. “By the way, why was Tim acting all mysterious when I came in from the garage? He looked like he just got hit with a ton of bricks.”

Paige kept her eyes on the road, trying to act casual. “Oh… nothing. Just talking.”

Katie tilted her head. “Paige.”

“What?”

“That was the most suspicious ‘just talking’ I’ve ever heard.”

Paige fought back a smirk. “You’re imagining things.”

Katie gave her a look that only moms could pull off — part amusement, part x-ray vision. “Mmhmm. You’re a sweet girl, Paige, but you’ve never been good at keeping secrets. Tim was smiling like he’d just won the lottery.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Maybe he did.”

Katie let it go with a little shake of her head. “Bueckers you are something else. But I’m too hungry to pry.”

They pulled into a small brunch spot tucked between a florist and a yoga studio, the kind of neighborhood place Katie frequented — two people waved when they stepped out of the car.

“Come on,” Katie said, linking arms with Paige for a second. “You can tell me your little secrets over omelets. Or not. But either way, I’m ordering pancakes the size of my head.”

Paige smiled, grateful and nervous all at once. “Sounds like a plan.”

Paige stirred the ice in her water glass, the clink of the cubes soft and aimless as she gathered herself. The buzz of the café filled in the background — low voices, the scrape of silverware, a barista steaming milk behind the counter. Katie sipped her coffee across from her, watching her with that same calm, open patience Paige had always admired. There was no rush in her gaze, just quiet readiness.

"So," Paige began again, more slowly this time, eyes still fixed on her glass. "I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about… well, everything. Me and Azzi. The past few years."

Katie smiled softly, sensing what was coming but not pushing.

Paige finally looked up. "You know, it’s kind of wild. I met her when I was sixteen, and it didn’t feel like anything dramatic at the time — she was just this girl I kept hearing about, this rising star from the East Coast. Then we met at camp, and… it just clicked. Not romantically, not right away. But she got me. In a way no one else did."

Her voice wavered slightly, the words stretching out like they’d been waiting to be spoken. "I’ve always been kind of guarded — you probably know that — I’m not great at letting people in. But with Azzi, I didn’t have to try. She saw me. All of me."

Katie was quiet, hands folded gently around her coffee mug.

"Through everything — the injuries, the pressure, the noise — she’s been my constant. Like, when the world got too loud, she was always the one person I could run to and just… breathe. She never asked me to be anything but myself. Never flinched when I was struggling. Never made me feel like I had to apologize for being human."

Paige exhaled slowly. Her voice had softened, taken on that earnestness that came only when she wasn’t trying to be composed.

"She’s seen me at my worst, Katie. Like, the real worst. And she still chose to love me. And that’s what gets me every time. Because it’s easy to love someone when they’re shining, when the world is cheering them on. But she’s loved me through the quiet, through the ugly, through the broken days. And I’ve tried to do the same for her."

Katie blinked once, then again, before reaching up to discreetly wipe a tear that had rolled down her cheek. She chuckled lightly through it. "Excuse me," she said with a watery laugh. "It’s just… it’s really beautiful to see how far you two have come. I remember you as teenagers, barely figuring out who you were. And now look at you."

Paige smiled sheepishly, cheeks coloring. "Yeah."

She paused, then took a breath, sitting up a little straighter. "That’s why I want to marry her. I mean… I want Azzi to be it for me. She’s my everything, Katie. Has been since I was sixteen. No one else makes me feel the way she does. Safe, seen, challenged. She’s not just the person I love — she’s my best friend, my anchor, my home."

Katie reached across the table, covering Paige’s hand with hers.

"Of course," she said, her voice steady but full. "You don’t even have to ask, but since you are — my answer is yes. It’s always yes."

Paige’s face cracked into a wide smile, a mix of relief and joy lighting up her whole expression. "Thank you," she breathed.

They sat like that for a moment, the table between them feeling less like a barrier and more like a bridge.

Then Paige leaned in, her voice dropping a little. "Okay, so… I have a plan. I’ve had a plan, actually. I’ve been sitting on it for like two months."

Katie laughed. "That tracks. You were always the planner."

"Guilty," Paige said with a grin. "So, when we go to Turks and Caicos next month — that’s when I want to do it. Just us, no distractions, no press, no games hanging over our heads. Just… quiet and sunshine and ocean."

Katie tilted her head. "That sounds perfect. Do you know how you want to do it?"

Paige nodded, excitement starting to bubble now that she was finally saying it out loud. "There’s this spot on the resort property — it’s this little cliffside overlook, totally private. I already scouted it when we went last year. I contacted the hotel, and they’re helping me set it up. Candles, string lights, nothing over the top but… beautiful. Just enough."

"You really thought of everything," Katie said, clearly impressed.

"I even got a ring," Paige said, eyes gleaming. "The hotel in Turks and Caicos is holding it for me — I had it shipped there because I was afraid I was going to lose it. It’s simple, elegant — something I knew Azzi would love."

Katie smiled so wide it crinkled her eyes. "You’re going next-level Bueckers bougie."

Paige laughed, leaning back. "Tim said the same thing."

"Well," Katie said, sitting back with a content sigh. "As much as I’d love to be surprised, I think Azzi might see it coming. You’re not exactly subtle when you’re this excited."

"I know," Paige admitted. "But I don’t care. Even if she does see it coming, I just want the moment to feel like… us. Honest. Earned."

Katie nodded slowly. "That’s the kind of love that lasts."

They both sat back as their food arrived, warm plates placed gently between them. As they picked up their forks and started in, the conversation softened into smaller things — who was coaching the youth league now, the best local donut shop, whether Azzi still refused to wear socks at home.

But the weight of what had passed between them lingered, golden and steady, like the light of late afternoon filtering through the café window. It was a promise, spoken and received — and tucked safely into the hands of someone who had always known exactly how much Paige loved her daughter.

Dinner was relaxed, the warm lighting over the table casting a soft glow on the spread of food. The smells of roasted vegetables and seasoned chicken filled the air as forks clinked against plates and casual conversation floated around the room. Everyone was seated — Tim at the head of the table, Katie to his right, Paige across from her, and Azzi next to Paige, recounting her afternoon.

"So, you guys heard about my day already," Azzi said, reaching for her glass of water. "Laila's still the same — loud, dramatic, but in the best way. We went to that little spot off Glebe for lunch and just caught up for like three hours. I swear she still talks faster than I can think."

She grinned as she started cutting into her chicken. "Anyway, what did you guys do today?"

There was a beat of silence. Then all at once, Tim, Katie, and Paige began answering — overlapping, slightly out of sync.

"Oh, just odds and ends," Katie said casually.

"Ran some errands, helped your mom with something," Tim added with a shrug.

"Nothing much," Paige chimed in, eyes on her plate a second too long.

Azzi paused, eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced between the three of them. They were trying way too hard to sound nonchalant — which, for her family, was already suspicious. Paige wasn’t even attempting her usual cover.

Azzi dropped her fork with a loud clink against her plate. "Okay… I can count on Paige to act weird. That’s expected. But Mom? Dad? You guys too?"

Tim didn’t miss a beat. "What can I say? Weirdness is contagious. Like the flu. Except more fun."

Paige snorted. "He’s right. I think I picked it up somewhere around my sophomore year. It’s terminal now."

Katie stifled a laugh behind her napkin, eyes sparkling.

Azzi shook her head, both amused and suspicious. "You all are so weird. Seriously."

Paige raised an eyebrow. "How do you not know that you’re the one being weird right now?"

Azzi’s mouth dropped open. "Oh no, you are not about to gaslight me. Not at this dinner table."

Everyone laughed — a shared, lighthearted energy filling the room, the kind that came when something was definitely going on but no one was quite ready to spill the secret just yet.

And so they ate, with jokes traded over mashed potatoes and glances exchanged over dessert, each of them holding onto the moment — and the secret — just a little longer.

The room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Paige lay on her back, one arm draped loosely around Azzi, who had curled into her side, head tucked into the crook of Paige’s shoulder like it was made for her. Paige’s phone screen lit up in her other hand, thumbs tapping out a text to her dad, confirming what time she’d head over tomorrow to store her boxes in his garage.

Azzi shifted slightly. "Paige?"

"Mhm?" Paige didn’t look away from her phone just yet.

"Why were you all acting so weird at dinner?"

Paige paused, finishing her message and hitting send before placing her phone down on the nightstand. She turned to kiss the top of Azzi’s head — soft, lingering, comforting.

"Don’t worry, princess," she murmured.

Azzi didn’t move. "That didn’t answer my question."

Paige smiled against her hair, eyes closing for a second longer than a blink. "Because it wasn’t really a question I could answer without ruining a surprise," she said quietly, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s shoulder. "And I know how you get with surprises."

Azzi tilted her head up just enough to give Paige a look — suspicious, narrowed eyes and all. "You’re being cryptic."

"And you’re being nosy."

Azzi let out a low groan and dropped her head back to Paige’s chest. "Whatever. I’m too tired to press you, but just so you know, I noticed. I notice everything."

"I’m well aware," Paige said with a grin, flicking off the lamp.

The room fell into darkness, the only sound the hum of crickets outside the window and the faint whir of the ceiling fan. Azzi shifted again, her body settling completely into Paige’s.

Paige whispered into the quiet, "Love you."

Azzi answered without hesitation. "Love you more."

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The boxes were finally stacked—some heavier than others, all coated in that dusty garage film that stuck to your hands like chalk. Paige wiped her palms on her shorts, exhaling. Her dad was crouched near a stack labeled college gear, adjusting it so the top didn’t cave in.

And then, without planning to, without even fully thinking it through, she said it.

“I’m gonna propose to Azzi when we’re in Turks and Caicos.”

Her dad froze mid-shift. Then, slowly, he turned around—his eyes wide, but his smile even wider. Without a word, he stepped over and wrapped her in a bear hug.

“Uh—hello?” Paige mumbled, stiff for a second in his arms. “You good?”

He pulled back, hands on her shoulders, grinning like he’d just been handed season tickets to the Final Four. “Paige. Paige. You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something like that.”

She blinked. “Wait—what?”

He laughed, shaking his head like it was all so obvious. “Come on. You think I don’t see it? The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? It’s like watching two puzzle pieces figure out they’ve been side by side the whole time.”

Paige’s face flushed a little. She scratched the back of her neck. “I mean... yeah, I guess.”

He tilted his head and smirked. “Aww, look who’s all shy now. Alright, dork.”

She shoved his shoulder. “Whatever, bro.”

He chuckled, then gave her a little nod—one that said I’m proud of you without needing the words. Paige just smiled and looked down at her hands. For once, she didn’t mind the dust.

They were still standing there���Paige with that shy little grin, her dad looking like he was holding in a secret too big to keep—when Azzi walked into the garage, sneakers soft against the concrete.

She stopped just inside the door, taking in their weirdly frozen smiles. “Okay… why is everyone acting weird?”

Bob cleared his throat and quickly patted one of the boxes. “We, uh… just found some stuff in the boxes. Took us back to the old days. Bit of a time warp, right, Paige?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, amused. “Bob, don’t lie for her. Paige didn’t get her weirdness from you—why are you covering for her?”

Paige chuckled awkwardly as Azzi walked past her, giving the back of her neck a light smack with her hand.

“Seriously, why are you making everyone act weird?” Azzi said with a grin, tossing her over-the-shoulder look as she kept walking. “I’m starting to think dinner last night wasn’t a joke—this whole ‘weirdness is contagious’ thing might actually be real.”

Paige looked down again, sheepish, lips curved in a soft, caught smile. “Whatever, bro.”

Azzi stopped mid-step, turned fully around, brow furrowed like she’d just been insulted. “I’m not your bro, Paige.”

Paige looked up—guilty, flustered, glowing.

Bob just whistled low and muttered, “Yup. Definitely not her bro.”

Azzi shot him a confused glance. “Okay, now you’re both being weird.”

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Paige sat cross-legged on her bed, phone propped up against a water bottle, FaceTime open and angled just enough to show her face but not the pile of half-folded clothes still needing to be packed. Her mom’s face filled the screen, framed by the kitchen behind her.

“So your flight gets in around 1:15, right?” her mom asked, glancing at something offscreen. “I was gonna come get you, but I actually have work that morning. And, funny enough, Ryan decided he was gonna drive back from school to be there for Lauren’s senior night.”

“Oh—really?” Paige smiled. “That’s actually kinda perfect.”

“Yeah, I figured it worked out. He can pick you and Azzi up, if that’s okay.”

“Totally,” Paige nodded. “We were just over at my dad’s all day today and yesterday, stacking boxes. Azzi just finished packing and hopped in the shower, so it’s been...chaos, but we’re almost good to go.”

Her mom smiled, warm and knowing. “Sounds like you’ve got it handled.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, then looked off to the side for a beat before adding, “Katie’s gonna drive us to the airport tomorrow morning, so that’s what’s going on over here.”

There was a pause. Paige hesitated a second, chewing on her lower lip, then said casually, “Also... I’ve got some big news I wanna share with you in person.”

Amy’s smile shifted—just slightly teasing, definitely knowing. “Mmhmm. I think I might already know what it is.”

Paige blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Katie texted me something kinda... cryptic after your lunch the other day,” she said with a little smirk. “Didn’t say anything specific, but it was a little off. I figured I’d let you tell me when you’re ready.”

Paige felt the heat rise to her cheeks and let out a sheepish laugh. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” Amy said softly.

“Love you too,” Paige replied, smiling as she ended the call.

She sat for a second afterward, still holding the phone in her hand, cheeks flushed, heart warm.

Then, from the bathroom, Azzi’s voice echoed faintly through the door.

“Paige? Did you steal my other sock again?!”

Paige grinned, tucking her phone under her pillow. “No comment!”

It was barely past six when Katie warmed up the car in the driveway, headlights slicing through the soft blue haze of early morning. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet—just that soft, sleepy light starting to stretch across the trees. Paige was already outside on the porch, sipping from a travel mug and watching the sky warm up. She waved as Katie pulled up, then turned back inside to help Azzi drag out the last of their bags.

The trunk closed with a satisfying thunk, and they all slid into the car—Azzi in the passenger seat, Paige behind her.

“Y’all sure you’re awake enough to travel?” Katie teased, glancing at them in the mirror. “Or do I need to swing by and grab another round of coffees?”

“I’m functional,” Azzi said, half-yawning. “That’s all you’re getting from me at this hour.”

“Functional counts,” Katie said, chuckling. She reached to the center console and passed back a granola bar toward Paige. “Eat something. Your stomach’s gonna be upside down after TSA.”

Paige took it with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Katie gave a tiny nod and kept driving. But something about the silence that settled in the car after that felt... weighted. Not awkward—just full. Paige felt it in her chest, like a low hum. She leaned her head against the window, watching the early light wash the world golden.

They hit the highway, the road opening up in front of them, and Katie finally broke the quiet again.

“So,” she said, a little too brightly. “Turks and Caicos. That’s pretty casual.”

Azzi snorted. “Right? She didn’t even tell me until like two weeks ago. Just FaceTimed me one night and was like, ‘So… pack light.’ Like it was no big deal.”

Paige smirked. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” Azzi said. “I googled the resort last night and had a full breakdown about whether I brought the right sandals.”

“You brought six pairs,” Paige said flatly.

“Exactly,” Azzi said, turning in her seat. “What if I needed seven?”

Katie laughed softly, but her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror again, landing on Paige. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew not to. Not yet. Paige hadn’t said it out loud—not officially. But Katie could see it. In the way Paige looked at her daughter when she wasn’t paying attention. In the way she’d lingered at lunch the other day, heart in her throat and trying to find the right moment to breathe.

She kept her hands at ten and two and said instead, “I’m really glad you two are doing this. These are the kinds of memories you hold onto forever.”

Azzi reached over and nudged Katie’s shoulder with hers. “Aww. Are you getting sentimental on us?”

“Maybe,” Katie said, a little defensively. “What, I’m not allowed to be obsessed with my favorite daughter?”

Paige chuckled from the back. “You have been extra mushy this week.”

“I’m allowed,” Katie said again, this time quieter. “Next time I see you guys... things might be different.”

Paige’s eyes dropped to her lap, smile playing quietly at the corner of her lips. She knew what her mom meant. And even though they hadn’t said the words out loud, the understanding hung in the car like music in the background.

When they reached the airport drop-off, Katie pulled up along the curb and put the car in park. She stepped out quickly and popped the trunk, already reaching for the bags.

“I got it,” Paige said, hopping out too.

“Nope,” Katie replied, pulling one suitcase out like it weighed nothing. “Let me do mom things before you run off to paradise.”

Azzi stretched and walked around to help, stifling another yawn. Once everything was out and lined up on the curb, Katie turned and wrapped her arms around Azzi tightly. No words at first—just the long kind of hug that said a thousand things.

“I love you,” Katie murmured into her hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too,” Azzi said back, squeezing her hard.

Then Katie grabbed Paige next, pulling her in like one of her own. “You take care of her, okay?”

“I always do,” Paige said, smiling into the hug.

Katie pulled back, brushing some invisible lint from Paiges shoulder. “Bring me back a shell or something. Or a tan.”

“No promises on the tan,” Paige said. “But I’ll find you the best shell in the Caribbean.”

Katie laughed and gave one last wave as they turned toward the airport doors. She stood there, watching them go, her heart impossibly full.

Inside, the glass doors whooshed shut behind them, muting the sounds of the world outside. Paige adjusted her bag and looked around for the TSA line.

Azzi slowed, walking beside her, brow furrowed slightly. “Okay… was my mom acting weird or was that just me?”

Paige kept her eyes forward. “Didn’t notice anything.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes at her, skeptical. “No, I’m definitely right. She was being weird.”

Paige shrugged and casually stepped into the security line, holding out their passports like the conversation had ended.

Azzi watched her a second longer, eyes narrowing. “Hmm.”

But Paige just kept moving.

Azzi followed her, lips pressed into a playful frown. “You’re hiding something. I’m onto you.”

Paige just smiled to herself and handed over her boarding pass.

The arrivals curb outside the airport was a chaotic shuffle of honking cars and wheeled suitcases, but it only took a second for Paige to spot the beat-up gray Subaru pulling up to the loading zone. The driver’s window rolled down, revealing a mop of tousled blond hair and a wide, familiar grin.

“There’s my favorite WNBA power couple!” Ryan called out, throwing the car into park and hopping out. He jogged over, arms wide. “Come on, gimme a hug, it’s been months.”

Paige laughed and met him halfway. “You saw me this summer.”

“Months,” Ryan repeated, squeezing her tight before pulling back and turning to Azzi. “Hey, Azzi.”

Azzi smiled as he wrapped her up next. “Hey, Ryan. Thanks for grabbing us.”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing one of their heavier bags. “I was already heading home for Lauren’s thing. Figured I’d play chauffeur for the day. Mom guilt-tripped me into being extra helpful.”

Once everything was crammed into the trunk and the doors shut with that comforting thunk, they were on the road, windows cracked just enough to let in the early afternoon breeze. Azzi had shotgun; Paige sprawled out in the back, feet up against the opposite seat, already peeling the label off her water bottle.

“So,” Ryan said as they merged onto the highway. “How was the flight?”

“Smooth flight?” Ryan asked as he helped haul a suitcase inside.

“Pretty easy,” Paige said, stretching her arms over her head. “I passed out for most of it. Azzi spent, like, two hours trying to untangle her headphones.”

“They were in a knot the size of my fist,” Azzi said flatly. “I won. But barely.”

Ryan snorted. “A true in-flight warrior.”

“I even watched half a movie in peace once I got them untangled,” she added proudly.

Paige grinned. “Until she realized it was the second movie in a trilogy and got mad mid-credits.”

Azzi pointed at her. “Still better than you drooling on my shoulder.”

“Family chaos,” Ryan said, holding the door open. “You’re already fluent.”

Azzi smirked as she walked through. “Feels like it.”

They drove for a minute, the hum of tires filling the car as they cruised past miles of green landscape. Then Paige leaned forward between the seats.

“So,” she said, stretching the word like gum. “Got a girlfriend right now?”

Ryan made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “A girlfriend? Absolutely not. I’m living the dream, thank you. Sophomore year is about options. I'm not committing to anyone. I just... enjoy the moment.”

Azzi raised a brow and looked over at him. “Oh god. Your sophomore year sounds exactly like Paige’s.”

Paige blinked, sitting up straighter. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Azzi said, grinning. “You know what you were doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Paige said, putting on her best innocent voice. “I was focused. Dialed in. Laser sharp.”

Ryan barked out a laugh. “Focused on what? Flirting with every girl on the rec team?”

“That was one time when I was like sixteen,” Paige said quickly.

Paige added as she leaned forward, “You had a whole-ass boyfriend your freshman year!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Ryan said, raising his hands. “Hey now, I’m not trying to dredge up any trauma here. I’m just saying—” he smirked, tapping the steering wheel—“I’m proudly carrying on the family gene. It’s in the blood.”

“God,” Azzi muttered, shaking her head. “What did I get myself into?”

Ryan grinned at her through the rearview mirror. “A lifetime of banter and chaotic family group chats, obviously.”

“I warned you,” Paige added, nudging Azzi’s shoulder from behind.

Ryan glanced at her again. “You guys have to come visit me sometime, for real. Campus is so fun, especially in the spring. We’ve got this lake spot and a house we rent for parties—legends have been made there.”

Paige’s eyes lit up. “We do have, like, a month in between Unrivaled ending and preseason, right?”

Azzi gave her a wary look. “Please don’t act like you haven’t already checked the dates.”

“I’m just saying,” Paige said, hands up. “We could go for a weekend. Hang with Ryan. Relive the glory days of bad decisions.”

Ryan slapped the steering wheel. “Thank you! This is the energy I need!”

Azzi was still shaking her head, but she was smiling. “I’m sure you want to go,” she said to Paige.

Paige leaned in closer. “Don’t pretend like you don’t. You’d love a weekend at college bars with no media, no practices, and zero alarms.”

Azzi considered that. “...That part does sound nice.”

Ryan reached over and high-fived Paige across the center console. “Boom. It’s settled. We’ll throw a cookout. I’ll invite some of my friends. You can judge their fashion choices and give motivational speeches about cardio.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I mean, I don’t know, but I assume,” Ryan said, grinning. “Plus, if you bring Paige, it’ll raise my stock. I’ll be like, ‘Yeah, my sister’s an absolute baller and casually traveling the world with her hot friend.’”

“We’ve been dating for almost eight years,” Paige cut in, deadpan. “But sure. Hot friend works.”

Azzi snorted, covering her mouth.

Ryan turned in his seat, eyebrows raised. “Wait, that’s how long it’s been?”

“On and off,” Paige said with a small smirk. “But, yeah. Still going strong. Still apparently the hot friend.”

Azzi looked out the window, clearly amused. “Honestly, I’ve been promoted. I used to just be the excuse she gave for being late to film.”

Ryan let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s longer than some marriages.”

“You’re not wrong,” Paige said, shaking her head.

Ryan looked between them and nodded with mock seriousness. “Well, in that case couple confirmed. And I’m still bragging about it.”

“You’re impossible,” Paige muttered, laughing.

Azzi grinned. “Still kind of worse than her.”

Ryan looked smug. “Thank you.”

“Not a compliment,” she added, just as quickly.

They rode the rest of the way in that easy rhythm—music low, windows open, breeze in their hair. Stories flowed naturally. Ryan talked about his classes, a failed attempt at cooking for his roommates, and how he once got locked out of his dorm barefoot in the snow. Azzi told them about an old AAU tournament where her teammate’s mom forgot all the uniforms. Paige mostly just laughed, threw in the occasional sarcastic quip, and let herself be surrounded by the comfort of people who knew her, really knew her.

By the time they pulled up to Amy’s house, the sun was starting to dip again—golden hour light painting the driveway.

Ryan parked in the driveway and put the car in park with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, everybody out. I’ve done my duty as personal chauffeur, now I’m clocking out.”

Azzi was already reaching for the door handle. “You act like we didn’t just spend the last forty-five minutes listening to you rank your top five dorm party fails.”

“Hey, that was wisdom I was passing down,” Ryan said, unbuckling. “You’re welcome.”

Paige snorted. “You’re such a clown.”

“And yet,” Ryan said, pointing at himself, “this clown gets free food, his bed back for the week, and primo access to the living room TV.”

Azzi stepped out and stretched. “God help us.”

“You say that now,” Ryan said, grabbing his backpack and slamming the car door, “but wait ‘til I make you my signature microwave nachos tonight.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re doing now?” Paige laughed. “Feeding her radioactive cheese and pretending it’s cuisine?”

“Don’t disrespect the nachos,” Ryan said, mock-offended. “They’re basically a family heirloom.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at her mouth. “I’m starting to see where you get it from,” she muttered to Paige.

Paige smirked. “Don’t look at me. I’m the normal one.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “You’re the normal one? Azzi, please tell me that was a joke.”

Azzi gave Paige a long, exaggerated once-over. “I mean… she did FaceTime-invite me to Turks and Caicos with zero context.”

“Thank you!” Ryan exclaimed, already leading the way up the front steps. “That’s chaos behavior!”

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, throwing her hands up. “You know what? I regret asking either of you to pick me up.”

Ryan turned and walked backward up the porch. “Too late now. You’re stuck with me for the weekend. Hope you like bad jokes and stealing the last cookie.”

“We’re in the guest room, right?” Paige asked.

“Obviously,” Ryan said. “I already staked my claim—duffel’s exploded all over the bed. Home court advantage.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume we won’t chuck your stuff into the hallway the second you start acting up.”

Ryan shot her finger guns. “And bold of you to assume I won’t come sleep on the couch at 3 a.m. in full conversation mode.”

Paige groaned. “This is actually my nightmare.”

Ryan unlocked the front door and held it open with a smirk. “Welcome to it.”

They filed inside, laughter still lingering in the air, bags thudding against the floor.

And somehow, it already felt like the start of something good.

Late afternoon light spilled into the living room, casting everything in a honey-gold glow. Paige lay on one end of the couch, arm draped over her eyes, while Ryan had fully claimed the other end, feet up, one hand mindlessly scrolling his phone and the other holding a half-empty LaCroix.

“I swear your couch is softer than I remember,” Ryan said.

“That’s because you never get off it when you’re home,” Paige mumbled without moving.

“Can’t help it,” he said. “Perfect napping angle. Great armrest-to-head ratio. Premium lounging conditions.”

Paige peeked at him with one eye. “You sound like you’re reviewing it for a magazine.”

“I should. Midwestern Brother’s Guide to Napping Gear. Issue one: this couch.”

From the kitchen, they could hear laughter—Azzi’s voice mixing with Amy’s. Every few minutes, there’d be a rustle of paper or the soft crackle of plastic sleeves.

“Okay but look at this one,” Azzi said, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Oh my god,” Amy replied, breath catching. “That was Easter, like… 2011. Paige insisted on wearing her basketball warm-up under her dress in case someone challenged her to a 1v1 after church.”

Ryan let out a snort. “That tracks.”

Paige groaned into the couch cushions. “Do not bring that up in front of Azzi.”

“Too late,” Azzi called. “You had knee pads on under a sundress. What were you preparing for? A post-sermon scrimmage?”

“I was being efficient,” Paige shot back. “God favors the prepared.”

Azzi and Amy both cracked up again.

“You’re doomed,” Ryan said, grinning at her. “She’s never gonna let that go.”

“I can live with it,” Paige said. “But if any tutu pics surface, I’m burning the entire photo album.”

“Oh, now we’re threatening arson,” Amy said lightly, her voice still full of laughter. “Classic Paige defense.”

From the kitchen doorway, Azzi peeked around the corner, holding a photo with a raised eyebrow. “You had braces and a fauxhawk.”

Ryan sat up. “Wait, let me see.”

“No,” Paige groaned. “Absolutely not. We’re cutting off access.”

Ryan leaned back smugly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got worse.”

“You’re not helping your case.”

“Not trying to,” he said. “I thrive on chaos.”

Azzi disappeared back into the kitchen, still chuckling with Amy as the pages of the photo album turned.

The front door creaked faintly, followed by the rhythmic thunk of a volleyball bag hitting the floor.

“I’m home!” Lauren called out.

“In the kitchen!” Amy responded.

Paige sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead with a yawn. “Perfect timing. I was starting to think I’d die on this couch.”

Ryan stood and ruffled her hair on his way past. “Tragic. Cause of death: nostalgia and dehydration.”

“Get off me.”

Azzi reappeared from the kitchen, laughing, holding a photo in one hand and a tortilla chip in the other. “Okay, now we can go. Lauren’s back, the photo roast session is complete, and if we don’t leave soon, I’m eating this entire platter by myself.”

Ryan grabbed his keys from the coffee table. “Let’s roll. I need enchiladas and a margarita the size of my head.”

“You’re not even legal,” Amy called.

“I said need, not get.”

Paige smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the margarita. For... comparison purposes.”

Azzi looked between the two of them, shaking her head with a small smile. “What did I get myself into?”

Paige bumped her shoulder gently. “Chaos. You got yourself into chaos.”

“And you love it,” Ryan added.

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Still deciding.”

But she was already grabbing her hoodie and slipping into her sneakers, trailing them out the door as voices and laughter spilled behind them like sunlight through an open window.

Dinner had settled into that sweet, sleepy phase where everyone was full, a little slower, and leaning back in their chairs. The table was cluttered with empty salsa bowls, scattered napkins, and a few last tortilla chips no one had the stomach to finish.

Azzi had leaned in toward Lauren somewhere between the second round of tacos and the third round of chips. “So,” she asked, brushing salt from her fingers, “commitment day’s coming up soon, right?”

Lauren perked up instantly. “Yup. October twelfth.”

“You locking in Drake?”

Lauren nodded, her grin proud and a little bashful. “Yeah. It just... felt like home. The team’s great, the coaches are chill, and I’ll be playing outside hitter full-time.”

“Let’s go,” Azzi said, reaching across to fist bump her. “I’m proud of you.”

Amy smiled and squeezed Lauren’s arm. “I’m proud of her too. It’s all happening so fast.”

Ryan raised his Coke. “To the future star of the Missouri Valley.”

Lauren laughed and clinked her glass with his.

Then she glanced at Azzi and Paige. “Okay, but wait—I heard you two are going to Turks and Caicos?”

Azzi shot her a look, grinning. “Someone’s got a gossip line.”

“Mom told me,” Lauren admitted, nudging Amy.

Amy held up her hands innocently. “I just said they were taking a trip. You said Turks and Caicos.”

Paige chuckled. “Yeah, we’re heading out soon. It’s been nonstop since April—training camp, games, flights, back and forth across the country.”

“So we’re unplugging for a bit,” Azzi added, stretching her arms over her head. “Hopefully.”

Ryan snorted. “You say that like you’re not both gonna end up doing underwater resistance drills or whatever on day three.”

“No comment,” Paige said with a smirk.

Amy leaned forward, brushing crumbs from the edge of the table. “Any idea where you’ll be for the holidays?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, glancing toward Azzi. “We’re spending Christmas here—with you. I told Azzi she had to do a full midwestern Christmas at least once.”

Azzi grinned. “I’ve already been warned about snow boots and driveway shoveling.”

“And hot chocolate that scalds your throat but heals your soul,” Paige added, mock-serious.

Amy smiled. “I love that. So Thanksgiving?”

“Virginia, with Azzi’s family,” Paige said. “And we’ll probably do New Year’s with my dad and Drew in Maryland.”

“That’s a solid rotation,” Amy said warmly.

“Yeah,” Paige agreed, leaning back with a sigh. “I figure Christmas with you makes sense since we’ll already be back in town after Turks.”

“Oh right,” Ryan said, grinning. “That’s gonna be wild. You better bring back at least one sunburn and a story you can’t tell in front of Mom.”

“No promises,” Azzi said, shooting him a look. “But I am planning to sleep for 70% of the trip.”

Paige grinned. “And the other 30%, you’ll be learning to ski over Christmas.”

Azzi blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Paige leaned over, smug. “I made a deal. Lauren and Ryan are gonna teach you how to ski.”

Ryan nearly spit out his drink. “Hold up, I didn’t agree to that.”

“You did by being my brother,” Paige said sweetly.

Lauren laughed. “I’ve literally been skiing since I was like five, so you’re in good hands.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “This sounds like a setup.”

“It is,” Paige said. “But a festive one.”

Amy chuckled, reaching for the check as the waiter passed. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“And yet you love us,” Ryan said.

“Unfortunately,” she replied, but her smile gave her away.

They all stood slowly, gathering coats and to-go boxes, the air cooling sharply as they stepped outside into the early fall night.

Lauren linked her arm with Azzi’s as they walked toward the car. “We’re getting you in skis, no matter what.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “I’m gonna regret this.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Paige called from behind them.

Ryan nudged her. “You mean after she breaks a wrist?”

“Optimism, Ryan,” Paige said. “It’s the holiday season.”

And with that, they loaded into the car, stomachs full, hearts light, and just enough chaos to feel like home.

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

The house was quiet in that soft, golden kind of way that only mornings could manage. The smell of butter melting in a pan and freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air. Paige was perched at the kitchen island, still in her sweatshirt from the night before, legs curled under her as she sipped from a mug with “Mama Bear” written across the front in peeling gold.

Amy was humming to herself as she cracked another egg into the skillet, barefoot, hair pulled into a messy ponytail. “Ryan already took Lauren to school,” she said over her shoulder. “Azzi’s still out cold?”

Paige nodded with a sleepy smile. “She didn’t even flinch when I got out of bed. I think she’s still somewhere in the third quarter of a dream.”

Amy laughed softly. “I love that girl. Deep sleeper, though—always was.”

There was a pause as she stirred the eggs, then turned toward Paige, one eyebrow raised. “So…” she began, with that motherly tone that made Paige’s stomach flutter. “You gonna spit it out? What’s really happening when you go to Turks and Caicos?”

Paige froze, eyes wide for a second before she set her mug down. She inhaled slowly, shoulders rising with the breath. “I’m gonna propose,” she said softly, voice steady despite the nerves pulsing under her skin. “I’m asking Azzi to marry me.”

Amy didn’t even blink—just came around the kitchen island, arms out. Paige barely had time to stand before she was wrapped in the kind of hug that held more than just love. It was understanding. Pride. History.

“I thought so,” Amy murmured against her temple, voice thick. “I knew it. I’m so proud of you. My little girl’s not so little anymore—look at you, moving up in the world.”

Paige felt warmth rise in her chest as Amy pulled back slightly, eyes misty. A couple of tears had started rolling down her cheeks. Paige smiled gently and wiped one away with her thumb. “Don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it,” Amy sniffled, cupping Paige’s cheek with one hand. “I remember when you were thirteen and swore you’d never even look at a boy or girl until you were thirty.”

Paige laughed, leaning into her mom’s chest, resting there for a quiet moment. Just breathing. Just being held. The kind of silence where nothing needed to be said because everything already was.

A minute later, soft footsteps padded into the room.

Azzi stood in the kitchen doorway, hair a mess, sleeves too long over her hands, still blinking the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. She saw them and smiled—soft, warm, a little crooked. “Morning,” she murmured.

Amy pulled away from Paige and turned toward the stove. “Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s get you two some breakfast.”

Azzi wandered over and slid onto the stool next to Paige, rubbing her eyes. “Everything alright?”

Paige looked over at her and smiled, brushing a piece of hair from Azzi’s face. “Of course.” Then she slung her arm over the back of Azzi’s stool and kissed the top of her head.

Amy plated up some scrambled eggs, toast, and a bowl of fresh fruit, sliding them in front of the girls. “Here we go. Fuel up, lovebirds.”

“Thanks so much,” Azzi said, sitting up straighter and grabbing a fork.

“Of course,” Amy said, grabbing her keys from the hook near the door. “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll meet you both back here at four, okay? Then we’ll head over to the high school.”

“Sounds good,” Paige said, taking a bite of toast.

“Oh, and—can you two pick up the cake at two? I’d ask Ryan but, well, I don’t trust him not to forget it in the trunk.”

Azzi laughed. “Of course. We’ve got it.”

Amy blew them both a kiss on her way out. “Bye, you two. Have fun today!”

“Bye, Mom!” Paige called after her.

Azzi chewed a bite of eggs, then glanced sideways. “Cake?”

Paige grinned. “You’ll see.”

[salt-clangen]

Moon 19 pt 3

Leaf Fall

I’ll be honest, I’m not super happy with it but I really just wanted to get this posted.

Wolfstar moved like mist.

The harvest moon still glowed, heavy and gold behind her, spilling light into the gathering place where laughter and stories tangled with the scent of roasted prey. She had waited for the right moment—when the crowd grew looser, the elders half-asleep, and even Archstar wasn’t watching her anymore.

She had only needed a blink, a heartbeat, to vanish.

Now the night forest wrapped around her in silence. Northward, the trees thickened, taller and older than those near the sea. Ferns brushed her sides as she pushed through them, her pace steady. The gnarled roots of the forest floor were strange underpaw—she’d walked this way only once before, lost.

But now she came with clarity.

The point where the Great River split appeared ahead, the current loud in the quiet dark. She approached it without pause. The water was cold, a slap to the lungs as she plunged in. Her limbs churned, the silver water rushing against her as if trying to push her back. But she was not easily turned away.

She broke the surface on the far side with a gasp, claws sinking into clay as she hauled herself ashore.

Red mud smeared her white pelt in streaks, and she welcomed it. She dropped and rolled until her belly and flanks were slick and dull, the russet coating masking scent and shine. When she stood again, she was the color of the forest floor.

Wolfstar climbed the bank and did not look back.

DuskClan’s territory was different, no longer familiar. The air was thinner, sharper like mint, the trees closer together. She passed stone outcroppings and little dens half-lost to moss. Her breath came quieter now, steadier. The cold no longer clung to her—it was the pull of the Moon Spring that carried her forward.

A hush fell over the forest as the path climbed again. The stars blinked down through the trees, brighter now. Sacred.

And then—she saw it.

The Moon Spring lay cupped in a cave between ancient roots and stone. It was small—always smaller than the stories claimed. Just a spring-fed pool, rippling gentle. But moonlight shone off its surface like silver stars, and the air around it pulsed faintly with the breath of something deeper.

Wolfstar stepped forward slowly.

Her paws met the stone ledge, worn smooth by countless pilgrimages. She stared into the water. For a moment, her reflection stared back, clay-streaked and wild-eyed. A cat caught between fear and action.

Then the water shimmered.

Not stirred.

Not rippled.

Shimmered.

A presence brushed her back. Cold, familiar.

Wolfstar turned—and there, standing on the edge of the hollow, shadowed by the great tree roots that curved like ribs around the spring, was Jaggedstar.

Watching her.

As though she’d always been there.

For a moment, Jaggedstar didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

Wolfstar didn’t flinch.

She met Jaggedstar’s gaze across the moonlit spring, her breath rising in quiet clouds. The old leader didn’t speak, but Wolfstar could hear a voice anyway—echoing in the stillness. The Moon Spring shimmered again, and Wolfstar looked down.

She saw her own reflection, younger this time. Kit-soft, eyes wide with wonder.

It was a familiar scene before her now, her and the other Duskclan kits gathered around the sole nurse, listening to the same story. She had begged for this story every night, until even the warriors sighed when she asked. Her nursery mates had grumbled, her sitter had fallen asleep mid-sentence, but Wolfkit never tired of it.

The story of how the forest changed forever.

When the forest was young, it knew only struggle.

Cats lived in scattered families—clinging to survival, sleeping in hollowed logs and burrows dug by badgers long gone. They had no fire to keep the cold at bay, no tools to mend or build. Prey was eaten raw, sickness struck often and stayed long, and no cat had words for what ailed them.

The ancestors were there, even then. Always had been.

But their reach was faint. The world between life and death was thick, like ice on a winter pond. Spirits could only pass through if the living tore holes in it—and tearing came at a price. Rituals. Sacrifices. Moonlit gatherings that lasted until exhaustion. Not every attempt succeeded.

Diviners sought omens. Healers crushed bark and leaves between stones. But most cats died before they could learn enough to help anyone else.

Then came a cat named Oak.

A tom as broad as a tree root and twice as steady. He saw what others didn’t: that survival meant cooperation. He walked from den to den, not with force but with offers—behind him were his supporters, each with a different skill they could teach each other. Cats who could fight, cats who could hunt, fish, weave, heal. He helped teach each cat, in exchange for this he asked that they stayed and helped others.

More than that, he taught them how to listen.

He gathered cats together—not to rule them, but to protect them. Families became neighbors, then clanmates. Healers and diviners began working side-by-side. They called themselves Oak’s clan, and for the first time in memory, more kits lived to 12 moons than died.

But even Oak could not stop the dead from slipping away.

He sought the ancestors constantly, desperate for guidance. For a true bridge. A place where the veil was thinner.

And then came Dusk.

A young molly, born to a family of diviners. Her paws itched from birth, her gaze never fixed on what was in front of her. She saw things others couldn’t: shapes in flame, voices in the rain.

But one night, the ground shook. Trees cracked. And a path split open where none had been before.

She followed a starry cat through the broken earth, into a grove ringed by stone and starlight.

There, she found the Moon Spring.

A natural basin, fed by underground waters, ringed by bone-pale roots. She drank from it—and for the first time, the voices of the dead came not in flickers, but in words. They asked her name.

And she told them: Dusk.

With her, the ancestors wove themselves into the stars.

And with their guidance, Oak returned to the spring.

There, he lay down on the stones.

And gave up his life willingly.

Not in battle. Not to sickness.

He simply gave it. So the ancestors could take it, shape it, multiply it and give it back.

When he rose, he rose not as Oak, but as Oakstar.

Nine lives.

One clan.

Dusk became his first cleric.

And the cats who followed them spread outward like petals on a flower. The Moon Spring remained their lifeline, the one place where ancestors could speak clearly and dreams were more than dreams.

Wolfstar blinked slowly, the memory still warm in her chest.

She’d believed every word as a kit. Still did.

And now, she had come here not to tell the story—but to ask her own questions.

She turned her head slowly, to face Jaggedstar in full.

The older leader stood as she always had: poised, unreadable, her eyes locked on the water.

Wolfstar swallowed hard. “You always said stories were just lessons in disguise. So what’s this one trying to teach me?”

Jaggedstar stepped forward, just enough to cast her reflection into the spring across Wolfstar’s.

“You tell me,” she said.

Wolfstar bristled at the way the dark molly’s voice cut through the sacred silence. She wasn’t here to be tested. Not again.

“Fine,” Wolfstar said stiffly, dragging her paws from the water’s edge. “I’ll start with the first sign.”

She paced the short ledge, the dried clay falling in little clumps. Quickly she relayed each and every sign Saltclan had seen since their conception. Ending with the dream that had shaken her the most, what mallowstripe had seen as well.

“This is like a ghost story the elder’s tell.” She stepped closer, clay crunching underfoot to posture in the older molly’s face. “Don’t say this isn’t affecting all of us.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Jaggedstar said flatly, but then her voice sharpened, teeth beneath velvet. “I’m saying you’ve made it impossible for us to face it together.”

Wolfstar blinked. “What?”

Jaggedstar stepped forward, tears flickering with starlight. “You’ve built something real. Strong. SaltClan should’ve drowned in its first season—but it didn’t. You didn’t. You kept it breathing. And thriving. And you didn’t need me to do it.”

Wolfstar recoiled. “I didn’t have a choice, you made it for both of us, remember.”

“You always had a choice!” Jaggedstar snapped. “You could’ve come back. We could’ve found a way. We could’ve stood side by side.”

Her voice shook now, edged with something bitter. “But you’re out there. With your own clan. With your own confidants. And every time we meet, we’re enemies.”

“I didn’t want to be your enemy,” she hissed. “I just wanted Lynxdawn to be safe.”

“And I wanted a daughter who stood with me,” Jaggedstar bit back, eyes glinting. “Not one who left me behind.”

“And I wanted a mother who didn’t look at a newborn kit and wonder if she should hold it under until the bubbles stopped!” Wolfstar shrieked, heart pounding in her ears.

A long stretch of silence sat between them. The trees seemed to still. The Moon Spring pulsed faintly.

“Why did Starclan show me that?” She asked, eyes locked on the spring. “Why, of all things, did they show me as a kit listening to a story?”

Jaggedstar didn’t answered, her eyes misty as she stared blankly at the rock wall just past her.

“Mother.” Wolfstar wheezed, eyes wide as she stared at the water.

“Yes.” Jaggedstar whispered.

“No, mother. Mothers.” She hissed her eyes were wild as they locked back onto hers. “This is a story about mothers.”

Jaggedstar felt dizzy. “What? What are you talking about?”

“This. Us, what happening now! The story, our story!” She gestured widely to the both of them. “You’re my mother, in the dream I was a tom and you were Lostclaw. You’re my mother, but whose mother is Lostclaw?”

“O-Oakstar!” Jaggedstar gasped, voice hiccuping from her surprise. “That’s why the pool showed you learning the moon spring story!”

“Yes!” Wolfstar felt like her heart was thundering. “It has to be, but I don’t understand how she became Lostclaw… as a kit you told me that every story was meant to teach something,” Wolfstar said eventually. “But maybe it left something out.”

Jaggedstar’s eyes narrowed. “You remember the story of Oakstar’s part in the moon spring. But do you remember the story of Oak the First?”

“…Oak the First?” Wolfstar blinked. “I thought he was the only Oak?”

Jaggedstar scoffed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s what happens when you leave your training at six moons old and run a clan without a historian!”

Wolfstar’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you trying to say this is happening because SaltClan doesn’t have a historian?” she asked, ears flattening. The damp clay had puffed up her fur into a ridiculous halo.

Jaggedstar’s lip twitched despite herself. “No—but maybe you would’ve solved this sooner if you had!”

Wolfstar rolled her eyes. “Well why didn’t your historians know about Lostclaw?”

Jaggedstar didn’t miss a beat. “We didn’t have near as many clues as you did, did we?” she shot back, all smug and sparkle-eyed.

Wolfstar opened her mouth, then hesitated. “��.”

“Exactly,” Jaggedstar said, flicking her tail. “So don’t start with me.”

Wolfstar sighed and sat down, tail curled around her ruddy paws. “…Fine. Tell me about Oak the First.”

Jaggedstar nodded slowly. Her voice changed—less sharp, more distant, like she was listening to the words as much as speaking them.

“Oakstar wasn’t born Oak. He was Root. He earned his name by holding the families together like a root holds soil. But his father was Oak. A massive tom, with paws like boulders and a voice like a storm.”

“He was the one who brought families together in the first place. Not through politics, not even through faith. Through strength. He protected them. Hunted for them. Taught them how to sharpen sticks on rock and how to scare predators off.”

Jaggedstar sighed. “But he wasn’t invincible. He died from carrion food, rotten prey. Root—Oakstar—was young. Barely out of apprentice age. And his mother, Moth…” she hesitated, eyes glinting. “Mothsong disappeared soon after. Cats claimed she wandered into the twolegplace and was killed. Some think she ran away. Either way, she was never seen again.”

Wolfstar’s breath caught. “Mothsong.”

“Yes,” Jaggedstar murmured. “That’s why Root was so desperate to speak with the dead. He wanted to know what happened to his mother. To ask her why she left.”

Wolfstar’s heart thudded.

But Jaggedstar went on. “The rest of the story you know. We keep it simple for the kits, but essentially Root led Oak’s clan, even changing his name to Oak to honor his father. When Dusk found the Moon Spring, he gave up his life to receive nine in return. He became Oakstar. The first to ever rise again.”

Wolfstar stared down into the Moon Spring, watching the ripples distort her reflection. The wind tugged gently at her whiskers.

She wanted to ask more, press further, dig—but something held her back.

“Jaggedstar,” she said slowly, “what if… what if Mothsong didn’t die or leave?”

The older molly’s ears turned toward her, but she didn’t answer right away.

“What if she got lost or taken?”

“I think it’s her,” Wolfstar whispered. “I think she’s out there. Watching all of us.”

They stared at each other in silence.

Finally, Jaggedstar stepped forward, eyes sharp with something new.

“Then I suppose the question is what to do next?”

Cat Allegiances:

Wolfstar- 25 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Dropletpaw.

Lynxdawn- 20 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Faithful. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 36 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Thoughtful. Good singer. Apprentice- Kelppaw

Nighthowl- 76 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Lonesome. Watches humans. Condition: pregnant & Torn pelt.

Nightleap- 40 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner. Apprentice- Coralpaw.

Thistle-30 moons. Warrior. Troublesome. Thoughtful. Keen eye. Condition: Broken back & recovering from birth.

Mallowstripe- 26 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Shadowdive- 24 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice-Sandpaw.

Rippleclaw- 12 moons. Warrior apprentice. Troublesome. Adventurous. Fast runner. Permanent condition: Partial Hearing Loss.

Ottersplash- 12 moons. Warrior apprentice. Competitive. Childish. Good swimmer.

Dropletpaw- 7 moons. Historian apprentice. Nervous. Lonesome. Interested in clan history. Mentor-Wolfstar

Kelppaw- 7 moons. Artisan apprentice. Charismatic. Responsible. Plays in mud. Mentor-Snowspeckle

Coralpaw- 7 moons. Mediator apprentice. Flamboyant. Confident. Never sits still. Mentor-Nightleap

Sandpaw- 7 moons. Warrior apprentice. Fierce. Confident. Moss ball hunter. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Briarkit- 1 moons. Inquisitive. Shy. Picky nest builder.

Prev

Next

Moon 0

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/3/2025

happy pride! i think i am bringing the lesbian romance novel project to a close. four and a half months is a pretty good run for a project! i have discovered two new authors i really like and will take a big group shot of all the books + more of a breakdown when i get home this morning. have some phil tummy to tide you over

listening

rec from the bestie, Fame is a Gun by Addison Rae. sad girl aughts pop we are so back. this went on four different character playlists

-

reading

read a bunch of books that aren’t lesbian romances to remind myself i still like reading and absolutely tore through a BUNCH of stuff. first, a trio of unrelated novellas:

The River Has Roots by Amal El-Mohtar, one of the authors of This Is How You Lose The Time War which finally came off my holds list. fairytale for linguistics majors with lovely, lively prose, do not know if it will hit you as hard if you are not an eldest sister.

Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite, which i read despite it being a cozy mystery bc i love Olivia Waite. i think she really nails the tone and style of a locked manor house mystery except on a generation ship, and it’s a really touching little thing about aging and memory. charming! wish i liked cozy mysteries but i would rather read about horrible bisexual men repeatedly being slammed into dumpsters

The City in Glass by Nghi Vo, who has the same kind of brain problem i do when it comes to loving locations and buildings. a demon rebuilds a human city she watched over for centuries after angels destroy it. in the middle of this i found myself wondering how the fuck it was going to wrap up, bc all i wanted to do was read seven hundred pages of the demon and angel torturing each other. i want to keep rolling around in descriptions of the city like a cat in freshly laundered sheets. the ending of this irritated me wildly but at the same time i don’t fucking know how else it would have ended.

Reign of the Empire: The Mask of Fear by Alexander Freed was billed as “for fans of Andor!” and takes place in the weeks after the Republic falls and the Senate becomes the Imperial Senate. mostly about Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and Saw Gurrera, who are all in Andor it’s true. however to be like Andor a book must be competently written and interesting. it’s a genuine pity that nearly all Star Wars novels are fucking dogshit. the most important thing (the deep rift between Saw and the Rebellion) happens tangentially and accidentally in the course of the book. do better!!! dream of a more daring narrative and more interesting plot!!!! don’t fucking deus ex “actually this species has a vestigial organ at the base of their throat that holds up to half an hour of air, usually its removed in childhood but i needed this character to survive:)” AAAAAAAAA

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland, despite the title and the cover, was a prince/bodyguard m/m romance i had a great deal of fun with. i think the delicate little twink of a prince ends up killing more people than his giant beefy bodyguard? a book where the inciting incident is coin counterfeiting but also palace intrigue but also learning about what you want and asking for it and accepting it in good grace. this makes it seem very modern kink positive infographic comic but it never annoyed me: the two leads are so highly aware of emotions and moods as a matter of survival that when they have A Breakthrough it’s just them slotting puzzle pieces together in a new way rather than therapyspeak. much like her last book if this went 10-15% in a different direction it would annoy the shit out of me.

very concerned with the nuts and bolts business of running an empire in the way a book about the economics of physical currency and a bodyguard class trained up to be ministers and bureaucrats when they retire from body guarding can be. je sawyer kind of book if he was really into the Ottoman Empire and not medieval Germany.

-

watching

thank u to @itsybitsydragon and @teenytinychihuahua for influencing me into watching The Apothecary Diaries. maomao is such a weird little freak i adore her. i have watched the first seven or eight episodes or so, and what a fucking premise. she carefully engineered her outward level of competence too hard and got noticed and accidentally becomes really integral to solving mysteries and crimes inside the palace!!! oh no!!!

genuinely heartbroken they won’t let her finish the poisoned soup in this ep bc she wants to know what the effects and symptoms are. regularly tests stuff on herself Sherlock-Holmes style. she got a beautiful girl makeover for this ep in which we learn she paints freckles on every day in order to look uglier so people leave her alone. girl of all time. put the manga on my holds list, so excited to watch the rest of the season and read it!!!

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playing

YAYYYYY

within the first nine pulls even so i have a shot at getting skirk in the next patch :)

genshin in is kind of a messy place due to the (continuing) English voice actor strikes. the English voice of the little fairy guide character, who has literally millions of lines, just quit. no idea what hoyoverse is going to do about that! i have not been paying attention to the fandom bc nobody understands how strikes and unions work, and it unfortunately feels like no one is interested in understanding :(

-

making

threw this shirt back in the mending basket bc a new hole developed under one armpit. i will not let this shirt die. i thrifted the dress back in early college, set pockets way too low (and pockets in general don’t work with the cut+fabric of this dress), and have been carting it around for almost a decade without wearing it bc i could not be bothered to take the pockets out. no longer! back in rotation!

[earlgreytea68]

I just finished a show on Netflix called "Envidiosa," and I loved it, which is unusual for me, since I usually get easily annoyed by most fiction these days.

I saw a lot of people complaining that the heroine was awful and selfish and horrible, and I was wondering what was wrong with me that I sympathized with her. Like, she made a bunch of bad decisions, but I always understood why she was making those decisions. The show, to me, really paid attention to its actual characters and how they would behave and what they would do. Also, the MC really spoke to me. She's a 40-year-old woman who feels like everyone else got the "perfect life" but her, which she defines as marriage and kids. The storyline of the show is more complex than that, but it really did resonate with me, because I am a single, childless woman in my 40s, and I am very happy, I don't want to suggest that I'm not, but I also know that I spend a lot a lot of years thinking I really NEEDED to get married and have kids, that that would of course be what my future had to look like, because that's what it looked like for everyone all around me and that's what society tells us, and I really felt for this MC struggling with her life not turning out the way it was "supposed to." I don't think we see enough characters out there really grappling with that in as much depth as this show did. Like, yeah, sometimes you DO feel like everyone shows up with nothing but good news and you're the only loser whose life isn't going well. Idk, maybe that's just a me thing but my twenties were a rough time and this really made me feel more seen but in a good way, like, yeah, I recognized this person and her struggle.

But then this show did something even more shocking and actually let the OTP, like, get to know each other and develop a relationship so that you could understand why they would want to be together????? This seems like the most basic element of a romcom but wow, almost NONE of them bother to actually do this, they just give you, like, a montage scene of the OTP walking on the beach together or playing a board game and they're like, "SEE, THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER." This show took its time and the OTP had a bunch of scenes together where they actually had fun with each other and connected with each other and I was rooting for them so hard and really, I almost never root for the OTP of a romcom because usually I don't care about them at all lol.

Anyway, I was really, really impressed by this show. I didn't expect so much going in, but it was very thoughtful and well-done. Also, it was hilarious. I laughed so much. All of the characters were great and I loved all of them. I don't speak fluent Spanish but I understand enough to get by and the subtitling of this show is awful, there were so many jokes that I could hear in the original Spanish being spoken that just were lost in the subtitles, sigh, I wish they would have done a better job with that. But it's okay, because it didn't REALLY take away from the rest of the show.

Oh, also, the soundtrack was awesome, A+.

So, I very seldom recommend anything, as you know, I am the most difficult person in the world to please. And I can totally see how some people might hate this show, like, I get it, the MC is a lot to deal with. But I also really loved her and if you want a show about good characters behaving in a way that mostly makes sense and isn't just manipulated for plot purposes, this was a good one, PLUS it was funny, PLUS it had a decent ending (there's another season coming that makes me nervous but I was very satisfied with these two seasons). (And I HATE stupid contrivances to keep an OTP apart, I really do, and I was worried every once in a while that this show was veering off into that territory, but it always swerved its way back onto the track for me, mostly because it always was so rooted in the characters that I got what it was doing and going for, and again, it helped that EVERYONE seemed alike a fully imagined person on the canvase, not just the OTP.) (Well, the love triangle girl that the guy starts dating kind of bothered me but she was the only one.)

[natequarter]

gallifrey has never really been a utopia; from the beginning, in the war games, the dysfunction is obvious. rather, what gallifrey (or the time lords) is is a stagnant society obsessed with order and rules - evident when we visit gallifrey for the first time in the deadly assassin, but fairly consistent across mediums. it's a cesspit of bureaucracy, and the doctor never imagines it to be anything else. traken, on the other hand, is presented as idyllic in the keeper of traken:

DOCTOR: Traken Union, famous for its universal harmony. A whole empire held together by— ADRIC: By? DOCTOR: Well, by people just being terribly nice to each other.

that's from the doctor's cursory analysis of it; the keeper of traken himself agrees:

KEEPER: I thought the whole universe knew the history of our little empire. DOCTOR: Yes. They say the atmosphere there was so full of goodness that evil just shrivelled up and died. Maybe that's why I never went there. KEEPER: Rumour does not exaggerate, Doctor.

and yet, the longer we spend with this apparently benevolent society, the more it resembles gallifrey. for one, traken is hardly peaceful:

NEMAN: With all this restlessness within the Union, Consuls, I don't know if perhaps the Fosters should be armed. LUVIC: Armed? That's an unusual suggestion. NEMAN: These are unusual times, Consul.

for another, it's far from utopian:

DOCTOR: They're not a very talkative lot, your Fosters, Tremas. TREMAS: I suspect Kassia's bribed them.

there are other instances of corruption - nyssa also engages in bribery, and it hardly seems like an exceptional event:

NYSSA: Proctor Neman, why are all these people gathered here? NEMAN: Rumours, lady. The law permits it. NYSSA: They offend the dignity of the Keeper. Have them removed. NEMAN: But that is not lawful, lady. NYSSA: My father and other consuls determine what is lawful. (She shows him her money pouch.) NEMAN: (to Fosters) Remove them.

most damningly of all, the consuls of traken collapse into petty squabbles as the serial progresses, ultimately allowing "evil" (we'll get back to that) to take root in their society:

SERON: Secret meetings now? Why do you visit my quarters hugger-mugger like this? KATURA: Is it true, Seron? Kassia tells us her husband concealed knowledge from the consuls. SERON: What knowledge? KASSIA: The nature of these emissions. Tremas has been recording their energy profiles. SERON: Disharmony among us consuls now? Tremas did not conceal the knowledge. He and I have discussed the subject together. LUVIC: You knew too? This is a grave matter, Seron. SERON: Dangerous knowledge, Consul. Knowledge that could tip our people over the brink into superstitious chaos. Is that what you want? KASSIA: This matter has grave implications for the succession. SERON: You question the Keeper's judgement? You say Tremas is unfit to succeed? KATURA: That is for him to prove, and the sooner the better.

they even have a death sentence!

NEMAN: By order of the Keeper Nominate, you are all sentenced to death.

traken is not, as everyone describes it, a peaceful society:

DOCTOR: It's magnificent. Magnificent. It's a pity about that poor chap having to sit for thousands of years in a chair, but it is magnificent. TREMAS: It's a small price to pay for harmony throughout the Union, Doctor. Thousands of years of peace and prosperity for all our people. DOCTOR: Yes, I can see there's something in that.

rather, like gallifrey, it is a stagnant society. it's a society governed by strict rules, yet increasingly filled with underhand bribery and dirty tricks. the leaders are a few old men and women who bicker away without any concern for their people. this is a pattern in season 18 - time and time again we are introduced to corrupt, stagnant societies which begin to collapse under their own weight. gallifrey is conspicuous in its absence in season 18 - the time lords call upon romana, the doctor swears he'll go back, and yet neither of them ever arrive. gallifrey is the ultimate in unchanging societies. to this extent every planet or people which appears in season 18 is in some sense a mirror of gallifrey: stagnant societies, slowly rotting. another key theme of season 18 is entropy. being introduced to all these stagnant societies is intentional, because it allows us to see the impact when entropy inevitably breaks in. so much of season 18 is about societies terminally in decline pretending that they aren't, then ultimately succumbing to the inevitability of entropy. this intrusion of chaos to a world of order (perhaps analogous to the doctor's impact on the stories he lands in) is present in the keeper of traken:

KASSIA: I speak for the many peoples of the Traken Union. They ask why crops fail, why droughts and floods disturb our planets. And now, violent death in the very precinct of the court itself. What do we tell them? SERON: Normal events, Consul, when the span of our Keeper nears its end. KASSIA: Nothing is normal at such a time. This Keeper, whose protection we have enjoyed for a thousand years, is dying. The power is growing weaker day by day.

a once-utopian society is revealed to be corrupt and crumbling. the parallels to gallifrey couldn't be more obvious. and ultimately, like quite a few of the societies introduced in season 18, traken is destroyed. it literally crumbles to dust, eaten away by entropy. to quote a really rather good analysis of season 18:

The idea of a place so good that evil beings are immediately paralysed and calcified seems too simplistic… but, as we see more of Traken society, the more we realise that their ideas of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are more to do with order and disorder… actually with stasis and change… than anything truly ethical. Maybe it isn’t “infinite evil” that gets turned to stone but, rather, anything that tries to bring disruption and disorder… or just change. Is there social perfection here or mass lazy acquiescence? There certainly doesn’t seem to be any democracy; more like a relatively benevolent oligarchy… of course, an oligarchy can afford to be relatively benevolent in times of plenty. But there is still talk of summary executions. There is still greed, ambition, class snobbery, distrust, superstition. A smothering complacency… that the Master is waiting to exploit. [...] Change of any kind is inimical to the Trakenites. They live in a cloying “web of harmony” that stifles nature and all the chaotic and entropic things that nature needs. But they also seem to live outside history. They’ve reached the ‘End of History’, a bland millennium of bourgeois order.

who else never changes? why, the time lords, of course. change is inimical to them, too. and ultimately gallifrey, too, crumbles to dust, leaving but one survivor - the one who escapes the narrative of a single serial and achieves their own stories, the last of their kind. nyssa, or the doctor? both share a species with the master.

there are no utopias in this series, not even the ones that claim to be so.

traken is actually closer to a mirror of gallifrey than it is to a utopian society, at least as it's presented in the keeper of traken. in this essay i will

[hey-heigo]

Chapter 9

oh god oh fuck he's back

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

Hey Byakuya I'm glad you had your little reconciliation moment. We're still in a killing game though so don't forget

There is not as much of a focus on the other chars...trying to change that for the future because they're just as fun to write

Toko, girl...I do love Toko as a character but as a person she does some questionable stuff. This hasn't changed for this fic

@moonlighttogami betaread this!!

Content warning tags: Monokuma shows up to move the plot. I'm not sure what to tag this one with to be honest...canon compliance stressful events I guess?

< previous - from start - next >

“So you guys are…like, better now?”

It’s Asahina who asks this, walking boldly up to where he’s sitting at breakfast the next morning. He raises an eyebrow at her, setting down the piece of toast that Makoto had delivered him.

“What on earth do you mean?” He asks right back. He has the feeling of eyes, following his every movement. It’s annoying, but he supposes it makes sense; being locked up in a building with no new information meant the common masses would be slavering for entertainment. Relationship drama, or gossip thereof, was one way to sate that need.

“Oh, you know…you guys seemed like you were arguing before,” She says casually, rocking on her heels. “Like, you would leave any time he was in the same room, you wouldn’t talk to him, and he stopped bringing you breakfast…” She trails off, voice ending in a pointed lilt.

“I don’t know what assumptions you’re making, but I’m not interested in feeding your delusions.” He replies coolly. Let them draw their own conclusions. “Why not bother Makoto about this?”

“What do you think they’re doing?” She jerks her chin behind her. Makoto is surrounded on all sides by Yasuhiro, Owada…and Ishimaru, who for some reason seemed oddly friendly, especially with Owada. The weight of three, overbearing personalities seemed to be physically crushing the boy, as he tries to avoid Mondo’s belting, burlish questions by ducking into his cereal.

He wonders if Makoto was looking at him, probably making pleading eyes for assistance, and purposely looks away. He quietly congratulates himself for his forward thinking; after waking up some time before seven (warm and tangled up in sheets and limbs, and with his internal clock thrown entirely off-course), he immediately kicked Makoto out, shoving the groggy boy bodily out of his room, specifically to avoid drawing this kind of unnecessary speculation.

(He worried, afterwards, about whether he had inadvertently ruined their recently repaired deal. But then Makoto said ‘good morning’ when he entered the cafeteria, and then brought him breakfast as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. And suddenly, it felt somewhat foolish of him to have been concerned in the first place.)

“Like I said. Draw your own conclusions.” He hums, lifting up his mug for a sip of coffee. It was bitter and watery, but there’s some slight improvement from before; his constant hassling of Ishimaru must have yielded results. “Is that all? Can you leave now?”

Asahina wanders off, apparently annoyed that he won’t reveal anything more. With her absence, he suddenly becomes aware of a presence behind him, and as he sets down his mug, he manages to identify the person by smell. 

In the time since becoming blind, it seemed that his nose had sharpened, though that wasn’t necessarily a pleasant adjustment. He sighs, “What, Fukawa.”

The shuffling footsteps that had been inching steadily closer to him stop, then scurry off. What a strange one. He suspected that she was of the same crowd as Fujisaki, an admirer that has confused expected appreciation of superiority for romantic infatuation. For the time being, she was still relatively harmless, and somewhat useful in how attentive she was, cleaning up after him at mealtimes. He could have Makoto chase her off later…somehow or another.

Breakfast was drawing to a close. People began putting away their dishes, meandering towards the exit. Byakuya stands up and begins walking towards the library, and not long after he enters the hallway does he hear the sound of footsteps, sneakers squeaking to catch up to him, and allows himself a small smile.

___

Ding dong, bing bong.

He pauses outside of his room door, looking up in the direction of the sound. How odd, but he didn’t think it was ten PM already…he’d been very careful to have Makoto pay attention to the time on his wristwatch, so that they would leave the library with ample time to spare. He glances over his shoulder, and sees Makoto standing in the middle of the hallway, staring confusedly at the nearest speaker.

“Ahem! School announcement, school announcement.” Monokuma’s voice grates from the speakerphone. “Nighttime is quickly approaching, but before it arrives... All students, please gather in the gym immediately. Emergency! Emergency!”

This…could only spell trouble.

Around them, their peers were beginning to peek out of their rooms. Some of them seemed to be trembling. A clamor of anxiety was beginning to build, people voicing their worry for what could be coming next.

“I-It’s not a b-b-body, right?” He hears someone stutter behind him, along with the sound of audible counting.

“No. We’re all accounted for.” Kirigiri's voice cuts through the hubbub. “But we better get moving. It’s not a good idea to defy him here and now.”

Her words help snap people into action. He walks on ahead, ignoring Makoto, who had begun to drift over to him. He still needed to maintain some semblance of normality, after all, and having the other boy hover over him too much would grow too annoying. That conversation from breakfast was still on his mind.

The gymnasium is the same as he last remembers it, save for the removal of Enoshima’s body. From what he can tell, even the floorboards that had been pierced through have been replaced. How meticulous. He wonders if it was Monokuma that took care of the repair, and is struck by the sudden ridiculous image of the bear toddling around with a box of tools and some wooden blanks before wondering if there was something wrong with his head beyond his eyesight.

Speaking of Monokuma, the insufferable toy wasn’t here yet. The others murmur among each other, uneasy and on edge.

“What could he possibly want?” Ishimaru wonders aloud. His unusually relaxed, easygoing demeanor from earlier today was gone, replaced with the stiff, high-energy nervousness that he usually displayed around Monokuma.

“Indeed. What might await us this time?” Celeste hums, calm as ever.

Nothing good, I’m sure. He thinks to himself. But really, there was only one possibility that was in his mind.

“It’s likely a new motive.” He says, and at that, a hush falls over the group. They all knew what that meant.

“A-a-a-” Yamada trembles where he stands. “A new motive?!”

“Nooo…not again!” Yasuhiro moans, hands fisting in his own hair. “And not after the earthquakes last night!”

The ripple of anxiety that had been running through the group is interrupted by confusion. “...Earthquakes?” Makoto asks.

“Yeah! There was, like, a lot of rumbling last night.” The clairvoyant nods emphatically, hair bouncing like the branches of a tree. “I was sitting around in the main hall last night, meditating, when I suddenly heard a lot of, like, loud booms and stuff. I totally thought it was construction or something at first.”

“Construction…?” Asahina tilts her head. “Would it be the mastermind trying to build something?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it was construction for sure. It was just, like, kinda loud, you know?” He waves his hands, as if trying to support just how ‘loud’ it was by movement alone. “Like, I’m surprised no one else heard it!”

“The rooms are all soundproof.” Kirigiri interjects now. “Most of the rest of us were in our rooms by ten o’clock.”

“Y-yeah, I know, but- wait, does this make me seem suspicious? But no one’s even dead!” The few shreds of interesting information he had to offer were gone, and now all he spewed were inane words again. “I just lost track of time and was staring off into space! Serious!”

They continue to prattle on, and Byakuya tunes them out. Construction noises…he’s not sure what it could imply. Nothing good, surely, if there’s been no sign of the rescue that Asahina had talked about earlier, then that meant the mastermind’s domain extended past the mere limits of the school - the noises Yasuhiro heard were also supportive of that.

“Hey hey heyy, everyone!! What’s everyone talkin’ about?”

A voice pierces the air, and they turn just in time to see Monokuma vaulting onto the podium. It’s a cartoonish sight, but Byakuya feels tense, an uneasy chill building at the base of his neck. And judging by the sudden stilling of the others around him, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this reaction.

“What Hiro heard wasn't the sound of construction...but it could have been an explosion!” The thing laughs. “Or maybe a machine gun! Puhuhu...That can kinda sound like construction in a way!”

“What are you talking about…?” Makoto asks, and Monokuma rolls over in another fit of giggles.

“Ah-ah-ah! You won’t get that out of me so easily! You might as well try gutting me for stuffing first!” It wags a paw at them. “It’s a secret little secret, y’hear?? And speaking of secrets…”

It digs behind its back for a moment, and seemingly out of nowhere, produces a stack of what looks like large, blank, white cards, fanned out in its paws like a blackjack hand. “Ta-dah!!”

Byakuya fights the urge to squint. Subtly, he steps quietly over to Makoto’s side. “What’s it holding,” He hisses quietly.

“Envelopes…with our names on them?” As Makoto responds in a whisper, Monokuma tosses the envelopes, and they scatter over the floor.

“Everyone pick up yours!” The headmaster orders, and a few people hesitantly obey. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it~!”

Damn. Byakuya stares at the mess of papers scattered around them. He could crawl on hands and knees for a million years, and never find it… “Why should we?” He snarks, glaring at Monokuma. “What’s this all about, anyways?”

“Ohh, good question, little heir!” The bear nods, like a pleased teacher contemplating an enthusiastic student’s question. “Well, if you don’t want to hurry and grab your envelope just yet, I suppose I’ll give you an explanation. You see, I’m a bit bored these days…every single day is so blah and humbug, you know? I’m suuuree you understand!” It waddles, kicking at a few of the envelopes at its feet. “Gosh, it’s got me so frustrated, I’m about to start tugging all my threads out…that’s how bad I want some stimulation, y’hear?! Something rife with danger and intrigue!!”

With those words, Byakuya feels that dread, cold and dripping, crawling down his back. Somewhere behind him, Owada snarls. “The fuck’re you getting at? Spit it out!”

“Patient, be paa-tient! Goodness, it’s not good to be so angry all the time!” Monokuma shakes its head. “But I’m a good headmaster, so I suppose I’ll just go ahead and be frank for my eager lil’ students. Y’see, it’s taking too long for another blackened to show up, and I’m getting so, so, sosososo bored…so, I’ve come up with a new way to motivate you all!” It twirls, and gestures once more towards the envelopes. “This time, I’ve collected up some of everyone’s most embarrassing memories and secrets! And I wrote them up and put them into pretty little envelopes for you all to read through!”

The chill in his back turns icy, and his gaze flicks down to the envelopes scattered on the hardwood floor. Around him, he can hear others diving for their envelopes, snatching them up hurriedly - but he can’t move. Even if he tries, he won’t find it - he can only hope that Makoto had found his, and wouldn’t betray him by reading it. Or else…

And others have started reading already. He hears gasps, terror, disbelief, the crumpling of paper. Before him, Monokuma looks up, tilting its face in an impression of curiosity.

“Oh? What’s this? Not moving?” It reaches out and pats at his knee, and he takes an involuntary step back, disgusted. “What, are you Jesus or something? Free of sin? You think you have no dark or dirty secrets to hide?”

Ironically, it was this stupid taunt that brought him back from his growing panic. Calm down, he snaps at himself. He’d do himself no favors making a fool of himself here.

He forces his face into a sneer. “I’m not the kind of person to be moved to kill by such a pathetic motive.” He says loudly, so everyone else could hear. “You’ll have to do better to make me participate in such a miserable excuse for a game.”

“Still not impressed, I see? Such a shame…” Monokuma looks down, apparently unhappy by this declaration. “And I worked so hard on these too…oh well. Whether or not you look at it matters, if you don’t mind someone else reading it…right, Miss Fukawa?” 

There’s a squeak. Byakuya’s head jerks to the right, where he remembers seeing Fukawa last. Sure enough, the girl is hastily shoving something back into an envelope - one of two envelopes, that she has clutched in her hands-

He’s crossed the space between them before he’s even aware of what’s happening, and grabs the envelope out of her hands, fingers crumpling the paper. Before him, Fukawa flinches and cows, shrinking down. “U-um, I didn’t-I was just…”

He glares, and her words die out. Behind him, Monokuma cackles. “Puhuhu! Oh, that’s too good!” It rolls on the floor with laughter, feet kicking merrily. “This is just like a reality drama! …But, it’s not what I’m after.”

The toy wiggles its legs for a moment, then toddles back onto its feet. “Everyone! You have twenty-four hours! If no one is blackened by then, I’ll reveal everyone’s secret to the whole, wide world! Wouldn’t that be so embarrassing??”

“We’d never kill over something like this!” Makoto’s voice pipes up. He’s standing there, hands clenched at his sides. “Sure, this is something I’d rather not want people to know, but…it’s not something to take someone else’s life over!”

There’s a brief pause, and then a small chorus of agreement. “He’s right!” Ishimaru shouts. “Your plan is doomed from the start! No one’s going to murder someone for this kind of thing!”

“Oh, is that what you really think?” The air in the room seems to chill by several degrees. Monokuma’s voice, previously playful and lighthearted, suddenly takes a sinister tone. “Well…whatever! If that’s the case, I’ll be revealing anyone’s secrets in twenty-four hours anyways, to make myself feel a little better. Everyone…farenotwell!”

And he turns, waddles off, and disappears into the depths of the gym.

__

In the end, they decide to simply ignore it.

Perhaps ‘ignore’ is the wrong turn of phrase here. Byakuya thinks bitterly, as he watches the other begin walking out. In truth, they had hesitantly tried suggesting sharing secrets now, to eliminate the motive, but several (including himself) were strongly opposed to the idea.

In the end, Ishimaru sent them off with a hesitant, awkward suggestion to ‘not act too hastily’, which was about as much as he could offer in this situation. Byakuya grabs Fukawa’s shoulder as she begins to leave, feeling his skin crawl at the very touch of her.

“Ah- huh?! Um…” Her head jerks, between him and the door, and begins squirming in her shoes. “M-mister Byakuya…”

“Give me your envelope.” He says coldly, and she freezes. “Well?”

“U-um…I can’t…” He grabs it from her hand, and she squeals. “W-wait-! L-let me prepare my h-heart-”

“Makoto.” He turns to the boy standing a ways behind him. “Come here.”

Makoto trots over, and Byakuya thrusts both envelopes in his face. “Which one?”

“Uh…” He hesitates for a moment, then points to the one that Byakuya had already been holding.

Byakuya shoves Fukawa’s envelope back towards her, and she fumbles for it a little too late. It flutters to the ground. “Stay away from me.” He spits. “And if I hear any whisper about the contents of this envelope, I’ll make you regret ever being born. Do you understand?”

He turns before she can respond, marching towards the door. Makoto’s footsteps dog after him.

“H-hey, wasn’t that a little…harsh?” He asks, quietly. Byakuya shakes his head.

“Hardly.” He grits out. If anything, he should have been harsher. His hand is still clenched tight around the envelope, the edges digging into his palm. The fury from earlier simmers; he could hardly believe the audacity that girl had dared to have.

He doesn’t even know what was written in his own envelope, and he doesn’t think he’s interested in reading it either. At the very surface level, it would be something about the blood competition that his family had held for the title of heir, and the lengths he had gone through to win it. If the mastermind had been really scouring for something embarrassing, he supposes it could detail about how he once spent a period of his life disguised as Polaris, though that was hard information to come by. Either one would be annoying to deal with once revealed, but it wouldn’t kill him. It was hardly the worst thing a Togami has done in the course of history, and as heir, any such information would be suppressed before it could reach any important ears.

But, it would be considered a blunder on my part. A blot on his perfect record. He chews at the inside of his cheek, feeling the raw and bloody flesh from the other day run over the grooves of his teeth. To allow such a thing to happen would reflect poorly upon him, draw doubt onto his position.

It’s not like killing was the better option, however.

He sighs, and stuffs the paper into his pocket. Better to put it out of his mind for now; if time runs out and it gets revealed, he’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with it then. He’s gotten out of tighter spots. And no matter how much he and Makoto had smoothed things over, he still couldn’t trust the boy to the degree of having him read it out to him, especially if it was a secret that could affect the family name.

For the time being, it was time to go to bed, and mull it over in his sleep.

< previous - from start - next >

[bee-menagerie]

...it begins.

[jetlaggingbehind]

shoutout to heavenly delusion for reinventing romance, it is no longer dead

[666writingcafe]

The Adventure Begins

Levi's overacting. Again. The only reason it wasn't obvious during the school play was because Simeon kept him reined in. Levi gets excited quite easily, and it causes him to get lost in whatever role he's playing.

I'll have to ask Simeon, but I don't think he intended the Lord of Shadow to act so...dramatically? badly? I don't know how to describe it, really. It just isn't very good.

Unlike MC. I'm not sure why I like their acting better, especially since they're currently matching Levi's energy. Maybe it's because they're intentionally hamming it up. They did mumble an apology to me before they started talking to him, after all, so they must know that Levi's acting isn't the best.

Satan's isn't much better, either. He's not as over-the-top as Levi, but I don't find him convincing as the "villain" of this story. If anything, he'd make a good anti-hero, but Solomon probably didn't want to make things too complicated.

Solomon's not a very good author.

However, I'm choosing to keep all this to myself, because the point of all this is to help MC get their first star. Lucifer, on the other hand, is having a hard time suspending his disbelief. So, I understand why MC told him to shut up. I just hope they're prepared to get their ass handed to them once Lucifer's back to normal size, because while he has a soft spot for MC, he doesn't like being silenced. Messes with his pride.

Speaking of which...the stars.

They represent the seven virtues, which are direct opposites of our sins. For me, that virtue is temperance. Solomon probably knows this, but he may not realize the full extent of my relationship with temperance.

Once upon a time, I was able to control myself and my urges. Until I wasn't. For my brothers, their sin was triggered by specific events; that wasn't the case for me. It just...happened. And I didn't realize it until it was too late.

Now, it's what most people know me for. They think I'm a meathead that only thinks about food. Even my brothers.

Which isn't fair.

Why are they allowed to have complex personalities, but not me? Why can they participate in mentally stimulating activities, while I'm cast off to the side and dismissed as too dumb to understand any of it? It's never made sense to me.

I think that's part of why I like MC so much. They're the first person in a really, really long time that sees me beyond my sin. They actually listen to what I have to say and seem to value my opinion, even if it's not related to food or sports.

Yet somehow, deep inside, I don't fully trust them. I think it's coming from my subconscious. Somewhere in there lives a hurt angel that feels like everyone he cares about will die and leave him behind. And in a way, it's true.

Lilith may have been the only person in our little family that actually lost their life, but my brothers barely resemble what they were in the Celestial Realm. It's weird. They wear the same faces, but they're completely different people. Sometimes, I feel like they're complete strangers, or perhaps taken over by aliens.

Oddly, the one person I can rely on to stay the same is Satan. Then again, he didn't have his own form until we arrived in the Devildom, so this version of him is all I've ever known.

"Beel?"

Shit.

I missed a lot, didn't I?

"Are you okay? You seem out of it."

"I could say the same to you." Why is that the first thing that comes out of my mouth? I sound like a jerk.

MC merely sighs as they sit next to me on the...bed? I take a proper look at my surroundings and realize that we're in a hotel room of some kind. Lucifer appears to be sleeping on the nightstand, using tissues as both pillow and blanket.

"Wanna go first, or shall I?" Interesting question. They don't seem upset at me.

"Your call." MC rests their head on my shoulder.

"Simeon needs my help making an important decision." Their tone indicates something serious.

"With what?" MC sighs again.

"His future." Huh? Why would an angel need a human's help with that? I know that the two of them are fairly close, but still.

"But that's neither here nor there," they quickly add, sighing. "It's not like I can do anything about it now." They glance up at me. "What's on your mind?"

"My past."

"As an angel?" I nod.

"Back then, the only thing that mattered to people was that I was strong. I wanted to be useful, so I decided to become a soldier and fight for the Celestial Realm. Problem was, I had trouble controlling my powers."

"Like I did before receiving the Ring?"

"You know, I hadn't really thought about it until you said it, but yeah. I suppose we have that in common. In your case, everyone had your back, which is good, because I wouldn't have wanted you to go through that experience the way I did." MC sits up and properly looks at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I would destroy something--even though most of the time it was a complete accident--Raphael would make some sort of sarcastic remark about it. I think he started calling me the Hulk at one point, but it was meant as an insult." I pause.

"At least he had the decency to do it to my face. Lots of angels would talk shit about me behind my back. They thought I was too stupid to pick up on it, but I knew. They acted overly sweet towards me whenever I would walk in the room. Condescending, even. It was like I was a dumb kid to them." MC places a hand on my thigh and pats it.

"Sounds depressing," they remark.

"It was. Oddly enough, the one person in authority that didn't treat me that way was Lucifer. I initially thought he was too busy with his duties to really care about much else, but then one day he approached me and started talking to me. We had a legitimate conversation."

"About?"

"He told me to keep in mind that being a Celestial Realm soldier wasn't about attacking--"

"--but protecting." We must have woken Lucifer up. "You had the power to protect everyone--to keep them safe--and that you shouldn't feel bad because you were special. If you learned to control your powers, I'd recommend you to the cherubim and have you serve as a Celestial Realm gatekeeper. You did, and so I kept my promise." Lucifer beckons MC to pick him up and bring him closer to me.

"MC and I may be connected by the Ring of Light, but the two of you have a strong connection as well," he continues. "You're both motivated by the need to protect the ones you love, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. Drawing on that similarity is going to be the key to pass Solomon's test."

"Are you saying Solomon knew we had that in common?" MC asks incredulously.

"No. I did. I simply passed the knowledge along to him."

"How long--"

"The rooftop."

"Of Dogi Magi?" I'm glad MC understands what he's referring to, because I'm completely lost. Must have been something I wasn't involved with.

"You knew that Belphie would hurt you if you went against his order to reject me, but you did it anyway."

"I didn't want to lie to you."

"Because that would have meant hurting his feelings." Asmo may have used his powers to pick up on Lucifer's crush on MC early on, but I knew pretty much from the moment they set eyes on each other. Granted, he was more attracted to their soul initially, but who could blame him? It was bright and shiny, even back then. If we weren't under orders to not eat them, then they wouldn't have made it out of the assembly hall alive. Even Diavolo was struggling to contain himself.

Anyway, the point is MC cared enough about Lucifer in that moment to feel the need to protect him.

Just like I felt the need to protect Lucifer after I became a cherub.

MC's going to get their star.

[bendover-productions]

Yes hehe, I do have a follow-up, because I AGREE it's so good!!! I just rewatched it for the first time since it first came out (I think?) and I was so charmed by it all over again! I kind of think episode 5 of that season is objectively one of their best episodes ever… I looove the way the teams splitting up allows for interesting interactions between all four of them, and I like the strategizing over the phone parts, I find it really charming. But yes I remember the comments on reddit and youtube being kinda harsh on that season when it came out, ESPECIALLY about Sam and Scotty. And I think youtube and reddit are just generally harsher on Sam, more so than on tumblr, but I just think they're misreading him soooo unfairly in this specific context!!! People were mad at how "smug" they were when their tactic was getting in Ben and Adam's way instead of capturing flags, but I found it very funny and think most of those people would have too, if it was happening in the opposite direction… Also that season just has incredible Sam vibes imo. He literally seems thrilled just to be travelling Japan and to be getting some jogging done. He's having so much fun!!! And the Sam and Adam 5D train chess moment that leads to them hanging out in a picturesque little town… Obviously incredible. And then them watching Ben and Scotty's trackers next to each other on the train later. And also, importantly, Sam's bucket hat… Literally what's not to love??? And as far as I remember they all describe the season as having been a lot of fun to film as well… One criticism that I maybe do get is that it's very much a high intensity game with fewer chill moments for both them and the audience, especially in the first round, so I can understand that not being to everyone's taste….. But yes, I think that season is sooooo underrated and I'd love to see them bring the format back! And I had that take rattling around my head for many days, so I thought I'd free myself of it by giving it to you :) I'm glad you also liked it <3

me + u....

as i’ve been powering through seasons i have been a little worried like. what am i gonna do when i get to the end and have to WAIT but hearing this is good because i feel like it confirms there's so much re-watch potential!! don't threaten me with a good time (rewatching jet lag).

i also love the phone strategizing!! charming is the right word for it. can’t remember any quotes precisely because my brain is a sieve but i just remember them yapping for a majority of the episode and i liked being able to see them collaborating even though they were doing different things if that makes sense? they got to be their own decision-makers within the unit which is interesting To Me in terms of strategy. which! i have not been on reddit or the youtube comments but :/ don’t malign my boy sam!! he might’ve done all that (been very happy to have thwarted adam and ben) but he doesn’t deserve it…*

i think it is very common for all of them to do that and it’s not malicious? it is maybe a little smug but one of the unique things about this season was how much they got to SEE each other after making moves. usually they’re facetiming across countr(ies) for five minutes and even then they do gloat a little bit about particularly good or thwarting moves. we just get to see in person the joy of coming up with a strategy that was successful [and perhaps ties back into scotty. scotty just wants SO badly to do well and not let sam down that to me!! it’s really important that they celebrate this (not)victory!! let scotty have success even if it’s not conventional!!] the other team didn’t think of because they all fundamentally think different ways. ben and adam are always more high risk high reward and especially in this game sam and scotty played a lot more defense so it feels natural to me to extend that strategy to the fact that after obtaining a lead he wouldn’t risk it, he’d defend it (thwarted ben and adam). if you’re already winning you don’t need to pull the goalie!!

but yes sam has a GREAT time this season and every time he gets on a super fast train he’s so excited 🥺 AND THE 5D CHESS!! the sam/adam scenic getaway means sooo much to me i watched it heart in my throat and also pen in hand ✍️ ✍️ ✍️

let it be said i don't think this season was the one that stressed me out so bad that i HAD to keep watching it? for sure this one was very tense but i think i exist at such a high state of stress at all times watching jet lag that this didn't even register as more stressful than normal. or i simply repressed all the stress i felt idk. it was simultaneously not a chill season (them getting lost and on the wrong trains right off the bat) but also very chill because there’s a lot of downtime on the trains? and we got choo choo chew!!! which is so beloved to me!!! there’s a lot to love about this season i think.

[tkbrokkoli]

just thought about that sherlock relapsed without his support system after being "dead". he's not wearing his sobriety pin anymore. he hasn't told watson about it. watson says he seems happy and he says that working as a detective abroad but not as himself was the best time of his life. I'm not sure if that's actually true????

[amtrak12]

[astralmarionette]

finished rereading and annotating Great Gatsby. Daisy and Tom make me sick /non negative.

[kuiinncedes]

see i feel like my friends would be fine w it / at least humor me so i rly shud just build up the nerve to rant abt herongra/ystairs to them for fun c:

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ HONEY.. COME BACK TO ME. PLEASE. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you and your ex-boyfriend katsuki bakugou can't seem to resist each other no matter what. even if you're only supposed to be friendly at the class reunion party.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x ex-girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: mentions of handjobs and oral sex in 3rd year at ua, oral sex (f! receiving), tits fixation, penetrative / p in v sex, car sex / semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie 🤭

note: spoilers for chapter 431 (a little different in some parts), usage of "brat", "honey", "sweets", "woman", fem reader, mentions of izuocha, second chance romance trope, porn with plot, microscopic angst, credits to gsony for center pic in my banner, i love them sm^^hope i did our husband justice 💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [why is he here?] you murmur quietly, discreetly watching katsuki from a distance, seeing him quiet and grumpy, drinking with a few of his friends alongside izuku.

ochako raises an eyebrow with a grin, clearly amused at your turmoil with the pro hero. she nudges your arm, looking at you from the side. "he's a part of the class too, y'know."

"i know that," you huff, sighing as you land your drink down the table, glancing back at him before looking back at ochako with a frown. "just.. its hard."

of course it was hard to see great explosion murder god dynamight. your ex-boyfriend, no matter how hot he looks in his usual black attire, his big biceps straining against the material, his post-war scars framing his muscular, gorgeous physique.

even before the war, you and katsuki were a great couple, despite your constant bickering and petty arguments. it just led up to increasing sexual tension and great makeout sessions. maybe got handsy a few times and did.. oral stuff in your 3rd year together but no more than that.

it all just came crumbling down after graduation, when you two gradually spent less time together as work kept both of you away from each other. you both ended it on good terms only after a year of being pro-heroes, but that doesn't stop you from missing him. from wanting him, needing him.

katsuki felt the exact same way. even if he was nonchalant about it now, he was barely holding himself back from dragging you away from this party and kissing your face off until he made up with the time both of you spent away from each other. which, to him, seemed like forever.

throughout the years, the two of you did see each other frequently during patrols and in joint-cases, made appropriate civilized small talk, but never ever talked about getting back together. it wasn't that both of you didn't want to: it just wasn't the perfect time. unlike this setting, where the two of you could talk properly.

ochako sighs softly, a small sympathetic smile on her face. "he's just a man, sweetie. after this, you'll barely see him again."

you bite you bottom lip and nod, tugging on the skin. you knew she made a good point, its just.. well, it doesn't change the fact that katsuki's in near proximity.

you sigh, smiling softly at her. "yeah, i know," you grin, nudging her arm, gesturing your head to izuku. "enough about me, though. what about you and midoriya, huh?"

ochako widens her eyes a little at the mention of her old highschool crush, shakes her head profusely, clearly flustered as vibrant pink tinting her cheeks. "i-i haven't even talked to deku in awhile! its been so long ago.."

you scoff and roll your eyes, grab her shoulder, and shake them a little. "well, change that. c'mon, i saw him looking at you anyway. maybe the same way he did todoroki but at least he looked at you. that counts for something."

you could still see the reluctance in her eyes to go so you shake her arm again in encouragement. "gooo, i'll be here, drinking my problems away, rooting for you."

ochako shakes her head at you with a soft grin, clearly wanting to but shyness was holding her back.

"i suppose a hello wouldn't hurt," her grin widens, pressing her cheek against yours, mumbling a soft thank you. "wish me luck."

you wave at ochako, mouthing to her good luck, as she approaches izuku, watching their cute interaction from afar. they wave at each other like the young, shy high-schoolers they once were, chatting and laughing softly over something trivial. izuku then offers her to sit beside him.

izuku eyes katsuki with a grin, gesturing his head to leave. katsuki rolls his eyes, but stands up, giving his seat to ochako. like the little bitch fate is, katsuki approaches ochako's empty seat beside you, looking at you with a small grin.

"oh, you sly fucker," your eye twitches. you didn't know who to be mad at, izuku or his insufferable best friend, but you could see ochako looking at you in worry, mouthing a quick sorry before getting enveloped by izuku's conversation again.

you sigh, shaking your head. on the bright side, whats the worst that can happen?

you give katsuki a soft smile, waving weakly at him. your hand feels stiff from how nervous you are, shaking it under the table to shake off the nerves. "hi."

katsuki raises an amused eyebrow at you, wearing his signature snarky smirk. he nods, settling down in ochako's empty seat. "hey, brat."

as you sat next to him, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. a pang of nostalgia, a flutter in your chest at the sight of him, and a hint of sadness at the memory of what could have been.

you took in his spicy cinnamon scent with smoky notes that you missed so much, the way his blonde hair was messily fixed, and his sardonic grin. it was hard to ignore the spark of longing, repeatedly chanting in your head that he was your ex for reason.

katsuki glanced over at you, eyes meeting for a brief moment. his crimson eyes catch the light of the room, making them glow like bloodstone. it made your stomach do backflips, forcing yourself to breathe.

”i’m surprised you actually came,” he says, his voice low and casual.

when he spoke again, the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. it was the same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the same voice that had laughed at your stupid, corny jokes, the same voice you had fallen asleep listening to on countless nights in the past.

you felt your palms begin to sweat but couldn't help but be a little pissed. it reminded you of what you said to ochako earlier, but still. "why wouldn't i? i'm in the class as much as you, aren't i?"

"don’t be a smartass,” he takes a sip of his drink, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. your eyes followed the movement, a wave of memories hitting like a tidal wave.

other classmates fanned out of the room as the night goes on, but katsuki took advantage of this, seperating you from them, keeping you all to himself.

he turned to face you fully, your knees touching with his for a moment as he shifted in his seat. the sudden contact made you inhale sharply, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

"you look good," he said quietly, eyeing you up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on parts of your body that he clearly remembered well.

the warmth in your cheeks grew a little, clearing your throat, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "thanks. wish i could say the same for you."

he raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "is that how it’s going to be?”

"well, you look like you need a shave," you lied. he didn't.

"oh? i thought you liked it when i was a little scruffy, sweets," you absolutely fucking did. there was nothing you wanted more than to lean in and feel the stubble on his jaw, to remember the roughness of his cheeks while you made out him. while he spoils your neck with hickies. while his head is in between your thighs, kissing your clit-

"that was years ago," you avert your gaze from him, unable to look at him any longer without crumbling. why was he so fucking attractive? it's been seven goddamn years. don't ex-boyfriends get ugly after a break-up?

"why do i get the feelin' you've missed it, hm?"

"i don't. you're delusional."

"you're a real terrible liar, brat."

"lying about you being delusional?"

"lying about you not missin' this. missin' me," he reached out to you, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. his touch was gentle as his knuckles grazed your cheek briefly. fuck.

"i don't.. i don't miss this. i don't miss you," you chew on the inside of your cheeks, trying to hold on to any semblance of composure you had. all the dignity you had was telling you to pull away but did you listen? fuck no.

"you're not very good at hidin' how much you want someone, sweets."

"quit it, katsuki. i said i don't."

"oh, that's real fuckin' funny. but i'll be clear," he chuckles deeply, a slow victorious smile on his face. you're starting to crack.

his hand slowly sliding towards your thigh, hidden from anyone else's view under the table. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his closeness was already making it harder to think, the sensation of his touch only weakening your resistance.

"i'm done pretendin' i don't want you. so, honey, cut it out, because we both know you want me too."

your gaze widened, quickly biting down on your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from saying anything stupid.

luckily, before you could even respond, the very man who put you in this situation, izuku approached with kirishima in tow.

"hey kacchan, would it be okay if we leave now? i have an early class tomorrow," izuku asks, not a care in the world that he interrupted something between you two.

katsuki was staring daggers at him though, because he had to pull his hand away from your plush thigh.

"yeah, i gotta hit the sack too, man," kirishima rubs the back of his neck, who knows hes interrupting something between the two of you but doesn't say anything about it.

but.. that doesn't mean he doesn't want to fuck around a little. kirishima looks at you with a friendly grin. "hey, wanna come with?"

you panic a little. another chance for katsuki to wreck your defenses? could you handle that?

"nah, i'd rather not disturb, i'll just wait for a cab-"

"the fuck you're not. you're not takin' a cab, brat. i'm drivin' you home," katsuki spat, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the ride home was pleasantly quiet in a way that wasn't uncomfortable. the atmosphere was a bit tense, but it was manageable.

you found yourself in the passenger seat of his black porsche 911 gt3 rs, not because you wanted to, but because according to katsuki:

"you better sit your ass down here or i swear to god, woman, i'll pin you down this chair myself."

so, it left izuku and kirishima in the backseat that seemed to drown them (comfortably). you didn't utter a single word during the drive, merely listening to their conversation, occasionally cracking a small smile and chuckling at their banter.

the silence thickened again when katsuki dropped kirishima and izuku off, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet car.

okay, you needed a game plan. keep quiet, do not give in, and do not fuck him-

"i missed you, y'know," he murmurs, his eyes still focused on the road.

his words caught you off guard, startled you. you missed him too. so fucking much. but the words got stuck in your throat, pride and fear holding you back. you try to keep your emotions in check, keeping quiet and not giving in according to your game plan-

"too fuckin' much. pisses me off. started to bother kirishima too," he lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little, his knuckles turning white. "plagues the shit out of me. that i think about you almost everyday at the most random fuckin' times, its terrifying."

he glances at you briefly, sighing before focusing his eyes back on to the road, running his free hand through his blond hair. "honey, talk to me."

"...what do you want me to say, katsuki?"

"just.. tell me what you're thinkin', okay? what you're feelin'. the fuckin' truth, goddamn it, don't shut me out."

fucking hell. it was just so easy to give in to your feelings, to tell him how much you missed him. how much you wanted to be with him again. but you were afraid — afraid of having to start the healing process all over again.

but.. that didn't stop you from bearing your heart out.

"you want the truth?" you turn your head to face him. "fine."

"it haunts me that you're the first thing i think of whenever i'm overjoyed with something or whenever i have a bad day. that whenever my friends ask if we could eat something spicy, i think of you. can't tell you the multiple times i had to hold myself back from hitting the send button to your old number."

"i missed you too, katsuki. more than i thought. hell, more than i should. you never left my mind, no matter how many times i tried to tell myself that you did."

katsuki remained silent for a while, his mind obviously occupied with your confession as he watched the road. it made you panic a little. was it too much?

but then, without warning, he makes a quick turn, swerving off the main road and into a nearby parking lot like his life depended on it.

it catches you off guard as the car suddenly lunges forward, making you hold on to the side of the car door. he parks the car in a secluded corner, away from any prying eyes.

"what are you doing?" you asked, still taken aback from what happened as you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" his eyebrow arched, as if the answer should be obvious.

without waiting for a response, he reclines your seat for more space. he unbuckles your seatbelt before climbing over, hovering over you. "gonna get what i fuckin' want. and right now, sweets, that's you."

you swallowed hard, his words and closeness sending a shiver down your spine. you could feel yourself getting hotter with every second that passed, your body aching for his touch.

but you were still reluctant. even with your thighs clenched together, your core felt like a pool of hot, wet need. and he could tell.

katsuki's frustration was evident. he lets out a deep sigh, leaning his head against your neck, inhaling your scent, barely trying to hold himself back from doing anything drastic.

"honey.. come back to me. please."

his voice was thick with pathetic need, a raw desperate desire for you burning in him.

fuck.

you know you should put up a fight, should try and resist him. but your body was aching for him.

and you really, really, couldn't fucking care less.

the moment your palms caress his cheeks, katsuki's eyes flutter shut, and he leans into your touch, sighing. you can feel him shiver under your fingertips, his body burning with longing. as your eyes meet his, a flash of raw desire flickers across his face.

and then, it's as if a dam breaks.

he leans in, his lips crashing into yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. his mouth is hot and eager against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips in a possessive, needy gesture.

katsuki's hands find your waist, strong and sure, pulling you closer as if the space between you is unbearable. you could feel his dick pressed up in between your legs, almost trembling with the intensity of his need.

your fingers slide up into his hair, tangling in the soft, unruly strands as you deepen the kiss. he groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, sending a shiver down your spine. his lips move against yours like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every taste.

when he pulls back, just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, his breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your own. his crimson eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, bore into yours.

“don’t think for a second that im done with you,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. “you're not gettin' outta here until i've had my fill of you, sweets."

he grins, chuckling darkly. "or should i say.. until i've filled you up."

when he grinds his hips harder against yours, you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. the feeling of his dick pressing against you makes your head spin, desire pooling in your wet cunny. fuck, was he always that big?

"oh, fuck," he inhales, almost hissing. "you feel that, sweets? hm? feel how hard my dick is, just for you?"

your bit you bottom lip, your head nodding slightly in response. your breath hitches when his hand reaches for in between your legs, inching up your skirt, rubbing his thumb against your damp panties.

"look at you, already such a fuckin' wet mess," he coos, a predatory grin on his face, glancing between your clothed, wet cunt and your flushed look. "haven't even started yet. you that eager for me, sweets?"

"stop being such a fucking tease and just.." your cheeks burn, embarassed, turning your head to the side. "fuck me."

"oh, i plan to sweets, don't worry," his voice low and sultry, tugging on the elastic of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. "wanna taste you first. haven't tasted this sweet fuckin' pussy in a long, long time."

"katsuki.. what if someone sees us?"

"honey.. i don't fuckin' care."

katsuki had brought you to the backseat of his car, stripped you off your skirt and panties and had your legs spread out like he needed to taste you or he'd die.

katsuki flicked his tongue at your clit, licking up your sweet, wet slick, feeling you squirm and mewl from under him. your legs were practically begging to be close shut, but he forced your legs open with his big, strong arms, both of his hands holding either side of your thighs.

"fuck, sweets, you taste so good," he groans against your folds, the intoxicating scent of your sweet cunt flooding his thoughts. "so fuckin' wet.."

you could hear the squelching sound of his tongue lap at your pussy, the lewd sound of his saliva and your slick turning you on. you took off your top and unhooked your bra, tossing it somewhere in the car. you played with your tits, pinching your nipples as you watched him ate your pussy like it was his last, delicious meal on earth.

"katsuki," you mewled, breath hitching as he fucks you with his skilled tongue.

"what, too much?" katsuki rasped, enjoying how you responded to his touch.

you nodded, already seeing stars.

he grunts, biting your inner thigh before chasing your orgasm again. "fuck that. missed this tight wet pussy of yours too much. can't believe you kept this sweet thing from me for so long..."

"katsuki," you moan his name, you grip on a handful of his hair, embarassed, almost going cross-eyed. he was eager to give you his all, it was slightly overwhelming. but you needed him. "too much, too much..."

"take it all for me, yeah, sweets?" katsuki grunts, raising the pace of his tongue, earning whimpering noises from you. "i know you can, c'mon. makin' my dick so fuckin' hard just watchin' you, holy shit.."

katsuki continues his delirious advance on your cunt, his perverted appetite for you making him so fucking horny. his cock twitches in his pants from the arousing act, throbbing from all the gluttony he was feeling. he couldn't get enough of it. he acted like a man starved and he needed all of you to quench his craving.

not that he'd ever stop craving you.

"katsuki, 'm about to-" you wail about your climax. your walls tighten around his tongue, your hips squirming from under him. you push your cunt against his face, wanting more friction.

"cum for me, sweets, c'mon," he continued to lap at your wet, sloppy mess. "need to taste you so fuckin' bad."

"fuck, fuck!" you squeal, moaning loudly as you painted his tongue white, shattered breathing as your chest heaved up and down.

katsuki doesn't waste another second, burying his face in between your legs as he glides his tongue across your pussy at a quick pace, savoring it all and riding out your orgasm. your legs shake from the overstimulation he was doing, whimpering from the way his tongue feels. he looks at you greedily, his cock agitated as his carnal desire to fuck you until your legs shaking burns more in him.

"'m so proud of you, sweets. c'mere, come gimme a kiss," he moves closer to you, his touch gentle and affectionate as he caresses your cheek before pressing his lips against yours in a kiss. you could almost taste yourself on his tongue.

his kisses are slow and gentle, his fingers find your nipples, pinching them as your fingers find their way into his hair.

he pulls away from you, panting and sweating, quickly stripping himself of his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the car.

he tugs his boxers down and pulls his cock out, already dripping with pre-cum before pulling you back in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. fuck, you don't remember it being that big.

you could feel his erection, his cock cushioning your wet cunt, his throbbing tip kissing your stimulated clit, just begging to be inside of you.

"you ready for me, right, sweets?" he murmurs, in between your tongues clashing together, waiting for your nod. he dips a finger inside you, making you moan. "look at this fuckin' pussy, could just slip in and bury my dick deep inside of you..."

"please," you plead, your voice soft and trembling, a pout tugging at your lips. you're needy and desperate, the words spilling out in a breathy whine. "i need you... so bad."

"god, you're killin' me here sweets," he took a deep breath, panting for air. "you sure?"

you took a shaky breath, your eyes meeting his. "yes. please... i want this, i want you."

your words broke the last thread of his restraint. in an instant, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with unrelenting intensity. as if you were his only source of salvation.

katsuki's hands found your waist as he grips on you firmly, guiding you onto his lap and positioning you to straddle him with an effortless, commanding strength. he was desperate, completely consumed by the need for you, his longing obliterating any trace of rational thought.

katsuki positions his dick inside of your pussy, groaning as he watches you mewl, disappearing inside of you and stretching your walls painfully. yet you still felt the raw need for him.

"katsuki," you pant as you sat on his cock, adjusting as you dangle your arms by his shoulders. "fuck me, pl-"

he doesn't even let you finish, carrying you briefly before slamming you down on his cock, feeling your pussy clamp down on him again and again.

"you look so pretty like this, sweets, fuck," he looks up at you in awe. his moves his mouth is on your tits, sucking on your nipple.

you take it all with a wail, closing your eyes in blissful pleasure as the tip of his cock kisses your walls.

"oh my fuckin' god, i love you so fuckin' much, sweets. holy shit. and this fuckin' pussy too. you know that, don't you?" he asks, his crimson eyes gazing into yours, tension filling the small corners of the car.

"yeah," you nod, your skin heating up, stammered breaths as his cock was stretching you, abusing your warmth.

"then say it back."

"no wa-"

you scream as katsuki humps you down on his cock mercilessly, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him. your hips squirm against the girth and length of his cock abusing your hole to its satisfaction.

"katsuki!" his name slips out of your lips, letting out a wanton moan as his deep, hungry thrusts buck inside you out of spite. "sl-slow down..."

"hell fucking no."

"katsuki, please!"

"not until you say it back."

"fucking- fine! i love you, okay?" you mewl at the pain, but at the same time it made you feel so so good.

"say it again, didn't hear it," he taunts, his thrusts still deep and desperate enough capable of making you cream on his cock.

"i said, i love you!" you panted, whimpering from his hips snapping into yours.

"that's my girl," katsuki grins, letting his hand travel to caress your cheek before pulling you in for a messy, sloppy kiss.

you feel your cunny coil of essence, chasing your climax desperately with him at the last few thrusts.

you pull away from him, panting. "katsuki, fuck, gonna cum again..."

"mhm, gonna cum too, sweets," he grunts, thrusting into your cunt sloppily. "cum with me, yeah?"

you pant out of bliss, nodding. his hips snap into yours as he thrusts into your cunt harder, dripping of your shared slicks.

you mewl as shockwaves of pleasure hit you, throwing your head back as your tight, white walls clench around his cock. katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he cums inside of you, a creamy frothy ring of white wrapped around the base of his cock as it kisses your folds.

both of you lay intertwined together, bodies tangled and panting together, breaths mingling, basking in the quiet warmth of each other's presence.

you pout up at him, delivering a playful slap to his cheek before sinking into his arms with a huff. "you're so mean."

katsuki chuckled deeply, the sound low and teasing. he didn't seem offended by your light hit, he seemed more amused by it.

"oh, please, you love me," he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer against his chest. he nuzzled into your hair.

his body relaxed somewhat as he held you. he couldn't help but marvel at how easily you fit against him, how well your body molded to his.

"i've missed having you in my arms, you know," he admires you, tugging a strand of your hair. "it's been... goddamn painful."

you bite your bottom lip, a deep sense of understanding in the sympathetic smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. you hold his gaze, knowing intimately the emotions that swirl within him. "i know, hon. me too."

the softness in his eyes is palpable as the pet name you had for him washes over him, a hint of vulnerability there that he rarely shows. he hides his face in the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "honey, i never wanna let go of you again."

you raise an eyebrow, a cheeky grin on your face as you tenderly caress his cheek, your gaze locking with his.

"i'm not going anywhere."

he looks up at you, returning your grin. his lips then gently meets yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

"good. i wouldn't let you even if you tried."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ tags (blogs who requested/ commented / reblogged on teaser): ˚⋆ @pikachuzhc @dragonscribble @obitosdefencelawyer @oladelmars @dietc0ke-stomach @liliththedxmon @junehasnotbeenfound @kaizuzuzu @babylambdietcoke @bri-licious08 @itadoriwife @katsukiglazerrr @secretlilli @trishiepo0 @akitafox @un-limit-edd @kalulakunundrum @krbkswifey @orangeheliophile @kenqki @thisbicc @augustraine @lisbethw @vikizzy @king-dynamight @legendarybatherringmonger @srcyy @moonlightwriter

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ was overwhelmed with how much attention the teaser was getting, EVEN ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS LIKED THE POST @cathnospam ILYSM YOURE MY HERO. feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome!! i was working on my thesis defense (accepted!!) while writing this so i apologize for the delay and if theres any grammatical errors^^ i am beyond grateful to all of you and i hope you enjoyed reading the epitome of me being horny for katsuki🥹🥹