#they're gonna be the first in line to start and watch from the beginning

[chirpsythismorning]

Want to know what I'm most excited about for byler endgame?

All the gays who didn't see it coming.

Like there are plenty of queer ships out there with huge fanbases. And unfortunately, yes, a lot of these ships over the years weren't canon and were very clearly queer-bait going nowhere.

A lot of fans have been here before, many times. Looking for crumbs, looking for the bare minimum, and so it's not even about the pairing actually getting together in the end, it's about appreciating all the moments in between. That's valid and honestly as good as it gets most of the time and so I don't really blame them.

Which is why I think, when it comes to Stranger Things, despite the canon queer characters, SO many queer viewers who haven't even watched the show or only watched it maybe once casually, are just not picking up on any of the subtext, despite picking up on stuff from shows where it was almost entirely accidental.

And it is fascinating!

Hearing fans of other queer ships that are confused about why byler was #1 on Tumblr this year and even just coming off as sort of condescending about it, I can't even be mad.

Because from their perspective this is just another mainstream show with horrible queer-bait, which is why they haven't even allowed themselves to genuinely consider it.

And so I cannot wait for their reactions when they find out they were wrong. That they thought they would be right because they've been wrong so many times before about queer ships that didn't end up together. Except this time they'll be wrong for assuming they wouldn't end up together...

Then, that's when they'll finally allow themselves to go back and watch it and pay attention, without worrying they're being tricked like they've been every other time before... and they're going to lose their shit.

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[barcaatthemoon]

she keeps me warm || lia walti x reader ||

lia takes you home after you make your triumphant return to the lionesses.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

as a proud lioness, you had a tough year. it was like every single time that you played, the team lost. you were supposed to be their miracle player, the one who came back from a career ending injury. instead, you felt like you came back only to play like absolute shit. and still, sarina and your teammates kept pulling you back in every single time you tried to turn away.

"gold looks good on you," lucy said as the two of you stood in line next to each other. you found yourself in between lucy and leah in the lineup. they were both a great comfort for you to be around. lucy had always been the player you'd looked up to coming up in camp. leah was one of your best friends, a presence that you had felt from the beginning when you were both in the arsenal academy.

"it's been a long time since i've won anything. i don't think i remember," you told her. lucy put her hand on your back and rubbed your shoulders.

"then let's remind you and all of them what they've been missing. maybe you can show off a bit for your little girlfriend," lucy said. you blushed at the idea of lia watching you in the stands. she was with your family, donning one of your club jerseys. you wanted to see her so badly, but she had been adamant that you needed your own space to focus.

you had hoped to see lia from the goal, but it was no use. your eyesight had admittedly been going a bit, so you couldn't see the way you used to. it didn't affect your goalkeeping much, but you were a bit sad about not being able to see lia or your family in the stands. however, you knew that lia's eyes weren't going to be leaving the goal, so you put on the performance of your life.

it was like you took every comment about how you couldn't make it back to your top form as fuel to help prove yourself. the crowd was on the edge of their seats as you took your place back as the commander of england's backline. you had been waiting nearly a year to take your place back, and today, you were certain that they'd mark this the day of your comeback.

"i know how big this is for you, but don't celebrate too hard mate. remember who's up there waiting for you," leah said as she clapped her hands on your shoulders. leah never seemed to be sure where you stood on hugs, so she opted to wait around like she did for keira. you grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms around you.

"we've missed you," lucy told you as she joined in on the hug. you were quickly surrounded by your teammates and being hailed as the hero of the tournament in their eyes. you had only really played the final and a couple of games that the team had lost when you first got back from injury, but they saw the work you put in the improve.

congratulations went around, as did a few drinks, before you went to see lia. she was easy for you to spot in the crowd. your arsenal jersey was a bit loose on her, and she had to be absolutely dying in the heat, but you loved seeing her in your clothes. you felt your heart skip a beat as she turned to you with your nephew in her arms, the toddler clinging to lia just like you did.

"bet you feel like a dunce for being so nervous," your younger brother teased. you tried to reach out and hit him, but your parents quickly put a stop to that.

"not in front of the babies," your mother warned the two of you. both of you looked down at the ground as you mumbled your apologies. "you played lovely today, deary. you've just got to come up home, they're gonna throw a celebration for you at the end of the week at the fish shop."

"i'll be up there mummy," you promised. lia handed your nephew back to your younger brother, the boy whining as you took his spot. you stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he started huffing and kicking his legs.

"be nice," lia mumbled as she pecked your cheek. "are you going out with the girls tonight?"

"god no, i'm saving my party energy for the fish shop. they get wild there, i'm sure some of the girls will want to come along when i tell them," you told lia. as much as you loved a night out in london, it wasn't the same as bar hopping around in your hometown.

"you can go out. you don't have to stay in because of me," lia said. you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against hers.

"i want to go back home with you. do you know how stupid it feels to be in the city you live in and not be in your own home?" you asked lia. she laughed at the clear look of genuine annoyance on your face. "let me get cleaned up and then take me home?"

"of course, take your time baby. there's no rush, i can go down and congratulate some of our teammates," lia said. you smiled gratefully at her as you raced off to the showers.

…

"i see you redecorated a bit," you said as you pulled lia through your apartment. she hadn't put many things up despite some flowers and mood lighting, well aware that if you did decide that you wanted to bring things to the bedroom, you'd go straight there.

"i also put the nice sheets on the bed," lia told you. you let out a playful gasp, laughing as you picked lia up and carried her over to the bed. lia kept her arms and legs wrapped tight around your body, taking you down to the bed with her.

"whoa!" you exclaimed. lia had rolled you onto your back, pinning you down against the bed beneath her body. you let out a nervous chuckle, something that you always did in this sort of position. lia thought it was adorable that no matter how many times the two of you went to bed together, you always got bashful when she took charge.

"relax, let me take care of you. you've earned yourself quite the reward," lia said. she leaned down and peppered your face in kisses. each of them tickled a little until she reached your mouth. you had been smiling and laughing, and lia took the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

you moaned into the kiss as lia pressed her leg in between yours. everybody always looked at the two of you and expected for you to be the one to push things. they would have been sorely disappointed to learn how wrong they were. you were loud and demanding on the pitch, so it was nice to let go and listen in the bedroom.

"i am so proud of you," lia muttered in between kisses. you focused more on the vibration of her voice against your skin. she had her hands resting on your sides at the top of your ribcage. your shirt was pushed up, revealing your stomach and a few of the faded marks from the last time you had seen lia.

"i wanted to play good for you," you told her. lia's lips curled into a smile. she pushed your shirt up the rest of the way to reveal that you hadn't put a bra back on. you sat up just enough to pull it over your shoulders and throw it onto the ground away from the bed.

"you've been working so hard. i want you to completely relax for me. just let me know when you've had enough," lia said. she waited with her hands hovering over the waistband of your shorts for you to reply. with your consent, lia began to tug your pants down, pulling your underwear along with them.

lia licked her lips as she saw your body splayed out on the bed. there had been a quickie before lia's team was knocked out of the competition, but you hadn't been with lia in what felt like forever. it wasn't that you were addicted to having sex with lia, but you had allowed yourself to get used to being with her at least a few times a week.

"my gorgeous, gorgeous girl," lia whispered against your skin. you followed the trail of her hands with your eyes, only allowing them to flutter shut when she reached the apex of your thighs. lia had you spread out completely beneath her, open and waiting for her to make a move.

you were wet, something that lia could see before she touched you. the excitement from a good game always got you going like absolutely nothing else. your body was physically on edge from the adrenaline, which made you practically twice as responsive to lia's touch. that was her favorite time to tease you, especially when it came with away games and you were just stuck next to her on the bus for a few hours.

"i can't get enough of you," lia told you. she kept a constant gentle praise as her fingers stroked you. lia worked slowly, building you up until you were practically dripping before she slipped a single finger inside of you. you wanted to scream in frustration, but you trusted whatever lia was planning to do to you.

one finger was added to the slow and shallow thrusts, slowly and gently stretching you. lia began to go a little deeper, curling her fingers just where she knew that you liked it. the penetration was enough to have you rutting your hips as you tried to chase your orgasm. lia let you move around, assuming that you had energy to burn still.

"that's it, let me hear you," lia instructed. she dipped her head down, adding her tongue to the mix. lia knew just how to get you screaming without having to physically exhaust both of you in the process. in lia's mind, your body was easy. she had studied it night after night for months now. she spent every moment that she had with you trying to memorize every little detail about you.

"lia, i want to cum. can i cum, please?" tonight wasn't the kind of night where lia would make you beg, but it didn't feel right not to ask first. lia was always a little sweeter with you whenever you did things like seek her permission out. this was no different, and lia kept you on a steady build before giving you her permission.

"cum for me. i want to see you soak the sheets," lia told you. her words were absolutely filthy compared to the sweet and gentle way that lia handled you. she was with you every step of the way. she helped you through the high and was there to keep you steady when the effects of it started to wear off. "if you'd like to go again, we can. i just need to get some things first."

"no, stay right here. i just want to hold you for a minute," you told her. lia moved up to lay in your arms, but not before she kicked her shorts off. she was left in just her underwear and your jersey, which you would have paid anything to get to see every single night of your life.

"you're staring," lia told you. she had been in your arms for nearly two minutes with you just staring down at her. lia expected you to zone out a bit, but she didn't think you'd be that out of it. "do i need to order food now?"

"only if you can do it from bed, but if you have to get up to do it…" you trailed off as you started to play with your hands. lia grabbed your hands and pulled your attention back up to her. "can you take a picture for me? i think i need a new home screen."

"for your eyes only." lia straddled you and placed your phone in your hand. she positioned herself on top of you, allowing for you to get a much better picture than you had expected. "you can just owe me one until i get a few things."

"deal."

[irisintheafterglow]

what if all i need is you? (college bsf!suguru x you)

summary: after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

wc: 2.8k

cw/tags: fake dating, best friends to lovers, first kiss, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (wears makeup and heels), swearing, mentions of drinking and smoking, reader is kinda mean at the beginning but they're just stressed, satoru being satoru

note: back on my suguru bullshit! hope you enjoy :))

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <33

“You remember the plan?”

“Yep, I had it down the third and fourth times you repeated it.” You send him a glare out of the corner of your vision, carefully pulling the mascara wand up across your lashes. The dim car lights weren’t the ideal environment to finish getting ready, but whatever time you could waste out here was time you didn’t have to spend at the party. 

“It’s all there. $250, like we agreed,” you say without looking at him as he flips through the stack of money from the yellow package hiding in the glove compartment. “I’m not giving you more, so don’t ask.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he reassures you, watching as you tensely tap fine glitter onto the inner corners of your eyes and spread it over your cheekbones. He inhales and you already anticipate what he was going to say. “You know, I really shouldn’t be taking your money–”

“I don’t care that you don’t want the money, Suguru. It makes me feel better, so please, shut up and take it,” you state for what felt like the tenth time. He sighs in defeat, eyeing you like you were a tiger pacing around a cramped cage in a zoo. Having your best friend go with you as your fake date to a relative’s birthday party both complicated and simplified things at the same time, which made you all the more tense for what might happen. 

Date me for a month and earn $250! No commitment, no long-term relationships! Call me at (XXX) XXX-XXX for more info! is what the flyers that you stuck to the bulletin boards around campus proclaimed. It was a last-ditch effort to find a date to your grandmother’s cousin’s birthday party and a direct result of your family being too curious about your dating life in college. The plan was simple, in your head. You would find a random person to pretend to date for a month, bring them to the party, and then break up with them a week later. No harm done and no questions asked, right?  

“Any takers on that dating flyer yet?” 

“No,” you groan, letting your forehead hit the desk with a dull thud. It was harder than you thought it would be to find someone to act as your fake boyfriend. “All they want is sex or to negotiate a higher pay. They think I’m a hooker or a trust fund baby, I guess.”

“I can confirm that you are neither of those things,” he chuckles from the other side of the line. “Unless, you have some news to tell me.” You snort and shake your head, taking notice of the darkness outside your window. It must have been hours since you first started your phone call with Suguru and forced him to help you through a homework assignment, and the rumbling in your stomach was becoming a little more insistent. 

“Shit. It’s late, so I’ll let you go. Sorry for keeping you for so long.” You start to tidy the various study sheets and highlighters scattered across your desk, carefully straightening the polaroid of you, Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko on the day of your high school graduation. “Thanks for helping me, even though I’m gonna forget all of this in a few hours.”

“I don’t mind teaching you again. Have you eaten yet? Because I’m starving.” The rumbling in your stomach becomes more of a growl at the mere mention of food and you silently curse him for reminding you that all you had in the cupboard was instant noodles. “If you say no and then proceed to make those sodium bombs you call food, I’m gonna hit you with an inflatable mallet.”

“Okay,” you reply. “Then, I won’t tell you.”

“Smartass,” he mutters and you hear the clinking of his car keys being grabbed from off the hook above his desk. “I’ll be there in ten. Grab a jacket; it’s chilly out.” Twenty minutes later, you’re bundled up in a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop near campus, barely able to eat from sheer anxiety. It was a shitty situation you’d found yourself in and the only way to get through it unscathed would be to disappear off the face of the planet. Your best friend seems to notice you poke at your noodles with your chopsticks and sets down his pair with a determined look. “Alright, what’s bothering you?” You shrug and avoid his eyes, leaning back into the dark corner of the booth. 

“Nothing,” you mumble and he raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m just stressed about this stupid party thing.”

“Remind me why you need a date for this in the first place?”

“My grandma’s cousin is super old. Like, one foot in the grave old,” you state plainly and some water shoots out of Suguru’s nose as he tries to cover a laugh. “I’m serious! I’ve never known her and, from what I can gather, no one really likes her anyways.” You hand him a clean napkin with a small, amused smile while he continues to cough uncontrollably, humming at the small thank you he manages to choke out. “But, my family wants me to at least act like I have a boyfriend for the night so she can have peace of mind.” You give him a knowing look and it takes him a few seconds to put the pieces together.

“Wait, your family wants you to pretend to have a boyfriend so your grandma’s cousin can die at peace?” You nod slowly and his face contorts into something like horror and shock, unsure of whether to laugh or feel sorry for you. “Shit. Sorry, I mean–”

“No, it’s okay,” you giggle. “You can laugh. It’s fucking ridiculous. To be fair, they just told me to find a boyfriend. They didn’t specify how long we had to be together.”

“And that’s why you put the flyers up,” he concludes, “to hire someone to play your boyfriend for the night.” You nod again and he shakes his head. “You’re out of your mind.” Your jaw drops in indignance and you threaten to drop an ice cube in his ramen in retaliation.

“I think it’s a pretty smart idea,” you argue.

“What if the guy catches feelings?”

“Sucks for him. I’m not paying him to fall in love with me,” you reply bluntly and Suguru shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Is what I’m doing wrong? I’m only seeing it as a business transaction, plain and simple.”

“A business transaction that hasn’t actually transacted yet, and the party is when?” You feel your face start to heat in embarrassment. He made a good point.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble. “The party’s tomorrow night.” 

“See? There’s no way you’re gonna find someone good enough in time.” 

“Well, what do you propose I do? Skip it entirely and kill the old lady early?”

“That’s definitely not what I was suggesting,” he corrects. “What if you just…took me instead?” You freeze, a little shocked by his idea. It was true that a certain amount of attraction existed in you towards your best friend, something that you swore never to act on for fear of losing his friendship. You never bothered asking if he felt the same because you knew him too well; you knew how he was around girls he liked, even though the last one was when you both were in high school. Sure, it was possible that he started liking you once you started college, just like you noticed him in a different light during your first semester. But either way, you were resigned to letting the feelings come and go as they usually did. Except, the feelings hadn’t left for three years. “Are you silent because you’re mortified or silent because you’re thinking it over?”

“A little bit of both,” you admit.

“How so?”

“You do know my family has been wanting us to get together for years now, right?” An unreadable look passes over Suguru’s face, a look that you can’t decipher even after knowing him for so long. 

“I’m well aware. Your parents have pulled me aside several times trying to pass along family heirlooms to use when I inevitably get on one knee.” Your eye twitches and you make a mental reminder to scold your family when you see them next. “But why is that an issue?” Truthfully, it wasn’t that much of an issue if you set aside your own feelings. Having Suguru there meant that he already knew the dynamics of your family, how to handle your relatives, and had a general grasp of what to expect at the party. It simplified things, but your own harbored feelings complicated any thought of acting like a couple. It would feel too real and you knew how much it would hurt when the clock struck midnight and you went back to being friends. That’s a little too much to unpack over ramen, though. 

“I just don’t want them making you uncomfortable,” is what you settle with telling him. Something like disappointment blinks across his face, but disappears just as fast as it comes. It’s replaced with a wry smile, one that makes your head fuzzy and stomach bubbly. 

“They won’t. My only focus is you,” he promises before launching into a new conversation about his latest biochem project. Now, ten minutes after your heels crossed the threshold of the front door, Suguru was doing a little too good of a job of only focusing on you. Even though the music of the venue blares and there’s enough family and friends to stampede you like poor Mufasa in the Lion King, Suguru doesn’t seem to care about any of it. He falls into his role as your ‘boyfriend’ as easily as the last piece of a puzzle being maneuvered into place, holding your hand with a steady grip, then snaking it around your waist, and sending you fond smiles when nobody's watching. Your parents are delighted, to say the least, and drag him away from you at the first available moment. You settle in a corner of the ballroom with a small plate of pickings from the dessert table and wait for him to return from his interrogation with your parents. 

“It’s about time you two got together,” a familiar, sing-songy voice says quietly from over your shoulder and you flinch, instinct telling you to stab him with your ornate plastic fork. You turn and find your other best friend wearing a tie and a shit-eating grin, tucking a silver hors d'oeuvres tray under a lanky arm.

“Satoru! What the fuck are you doing here?” You glance around to see if anyone has noticed you recognizing a random waiter and, thankfully, everyone is too engrossed in gossiping about your fake boyfriend for the night.

“I’m Suguru’s backup just in case things go south,” he drawls and you pinch the bridge of your nose with two fingers. “Here to cause a scene if something goes wrong.”

“You’re here to sabotage my relative’s birthday party?”

“Here to potentially sabotage your relative’s birthday party.” He sticks up his index finger in emphasis and you groan, rolling your eyes and popping another small brownie into your mouth. He copies you, plucking a cupcake from your plate and swallowing it in one bite. “I gotta say, it took you long enough. I’ve been in agony watching this entire thing pan out.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you high?”

“Not right now, no, but maybe later.” He shoots you a grin even though you know full and well none of you smoke. “I’m just saying that I’m happy you’ve finally realized your feelings for each other.” 

“What feelings? There’s no feelings,” you lie straight through your teeth and he sees through it like glass. 

“I may be stupid, but I’m not blind. If you don’t see that Suguru likes you back, then you’re the one with vision problems. Sucks for you.” He shrugs and you flick his arm lightly, glaring daggers at him but unable to fight down the curiosity poking at the back of your mind. 

“You think he actually likes me back?”

“He’s liked you since senior year, idiot,” he scoffs like your question was a funny joke. “I’m not here to fill in if he gets food poisoning from the questionable shrimp cocktail; I’m here to support either of you if your feelings get in the way and your dumbasses can’t communicate efficiently.” 

“That’s…really thoughtful of you, Satoru,” you mutter and he raises one eyebrow teasingly. 

“Wasn’t my idea. It was Suguru’s. ‘In case something happens and they’re not comfortable with me taking them home, for whatever reason.’ That’s what he made me promise and why I’m pretending to be a waiter for the night.” His attention darts upward to his best friend approaching your table and he pats your shoulder encouragingly. “Speaking of. Go get your man.”

“I hate you, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” He knocks his shoulder against yours before disappearing into the kitchen, on his way to probably steal a bottle from the wine cellar. 

“Uh oh, looks like you’ve found my undercover operative,” he jokes as he sets a drink in front of you and steals a cookie from your plate. 

“Actually, he’s the one who found me. You should fire that guy for blowing his own cover,” you remark and the corner of Suguru’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “It’s nice of you to ask him to be here in case something went wrong.”

“I’m an engineering major. We plan for the worst case scenarios.”

“What’s the best case scenario?” His eyebrows furrow in question but you don’t relent. No turning back now. “What’s the ideal outcome of this situation, besides the money?” He thinks for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek when a slow song starts playing through the loudspeakers. 

“Dance with me,” he replies, holding out his hand for you to take. Way to change the subject. “Please?”

“You’re not getting out of my question.” You let him lead you to the dance floor, trying not to get goosebumps as one of his hands finds your waist and the other laces his fingers with yours. “Why’d you offer to do this with me, anyway?”

“What, dancing? Or coming with you to the party?”

“Second one.” That unreadable look crosses his face again, the same one from the ramen shop when he first brought up being your fake date. It felt like anything he said was just covering up a truth that you both were dancing around; but, something in the air made you want to face that truth tonight.

“Because I’m your friend,” he murmurs and you can’t help feeling a little let down by his answer. You let it show in your face, but he’s avoiding your eyes. “That’s what friends do for each other.” He clears his throat and tries to blow a stray strand of black hair from his face, going deathly still when your own fingers brush it away and tuck it behind his ear.

“We’re just friends?”

“What do you–”

“What if I wanna be more?” His eyes finally snap to meet yours and his pupils are blown wider than you’d ever seen before, deep and dark and staring at you so intensely, you’re glad he’s supporting your waist. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his gaze flicking up and down between your eyes and your lips. 

“I don’t wanna mess this up,” he whispers so quietly that you wouldn’t hear it if you weren’t inches away from his face. “I don’t wanna mess up what we have.”

“I don’t think we would be messing it up,” you point out just as softly. “If anything, we’d be making it better.” His thumb comes up to trace the outline of your jaw, sending chills up your spine.

“Are you sure that you want this with me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I don’t know, because I feel like I don’t deserve you and–”

“Okay, stop talking,” is the last thing you say before you tilt your head up to press your lips against his. You’re careful and frustratingly gentle, giving him ample opportunity to pull away and reject you. But, to your delight, he kisses back with more fervor than you, like he’d been waiting for years to experience this feeling. He sighs into your mouth as you grab the collar of his button up and pull him even closer, his hands holding firm at your waist until you pull away to breathe. 

“Make sure you take down those flyers once we’re back on campus,” he breathes into your ear. You let your eyes flutter shut and hum in assent, leaning your head against his. 

“Why do you bring them up?”

“Because your fake boyfriend just got promoted to real boyfriend.” You initially dismiss the single click and bright flash as the photo booth serving its clients, but are also equally unsurprised when Suguru meets you outside your 9:00 A.M with a Polaroid between his fingers of you two dancing at the party. And the caption?

First kiss! (Taken by Gojo Satoru, ultimate wingman)

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[witheringwidgetwrites]

MC has a secret admirer!

Request goes; They're already dating but it's new so most of the lesser demons don't know about it. MC then starts getting love letters from an anonymous person and the Dateables/Brothers get the need to show off that MC is theirs?

I'm gonna do the brothers first! Hope that's cool! If yall wanna see more pls request it! (Also pretend that this is near the beginning of yalls relationship)

INTRO

"Wow, look babe, I got a love letter! Guess I'm more popular than I thought, you might have some competition." You chuckle, kissing his cheek. It was a very flattering letter, laying out all your strengths, compliments sprinkled generously throughout the writing. It was... surprising to say the least. But you were excited to tell him about it!

LUCIFER

If he's already on edge, he might just yank it and rip it in half. Today, however, he's in a good mood.

"Let me read it." You hand him the paper, watching him closely as he grimaces and scoffs. He's not nervous, but he is baffled that someone had the nerve to send you such a... bold letter.

A little prideful, in the sense that he has something that no one else can. He know's you wont leave him for some lower demon, but he can't help but feel slightly threatened.

Walks a litter closer to you around town and RAD. He'll hold your hand when the hallways start to filter out and there's less students around.

Puts in the effort to take you on more public dates, Restorante Six, most likely. kissing your hand and giving you roses at the table. He's not flashy, but it's enough for rumors to spread quickly.

MAMMON

He rips it from your hand, immediately turning his back so he can read it. "Is this the kinda lame sappy stuff you're into? Even I'd do better than this! It don't even mention ya eyes!"

He hands it back to you, mumbling something about, "i'll show 'em" before he stomps off, shaking his head.

He struts the RAD halls with his arm around you, glaring unnecessary at anyone who walks by. He's certainly on edge for the first couple days after. He starts passing you small silly notes during class, little drawings and pickup lines. You watch him as he turns away, hand trying to cover his flushed cheeks.

Also takes you out more. Carnivals, amusement parks, more casual things! Posts 1 post, with a few photos of you together, captioned 'almost as good as grimm.' If you get another letter, you might end up having your first kiss in front of the school!

LEVIATHAN

"Wha? Who?" He can feel his heart beating faster, anxiety rising in his chest. "Just kidding Levi, you're the only demon for me!" You giggle at him. "Could I read it?" You hand it to him, watching him plop down in his gaming chair. He gets very expressive while he reads. Before long, his tail is swishing behind him, "they don't even know you! There's no mention o-of any of your favorite videos games in here! You love games." He frowns, throwing his hands up dramatically. "I know Levi, I don't even know who sent it. Don't worry, they don't know me as well as you do." He pretends to lose control of his tail, that pulls you into him for a hug.

He sulks for a few days, but after some reassurance, he has a plan. You're going to the aquarium and he'll hold your hand! That'll really show 'em. Might even go to physical school a few days more than usual to walk with you.

He writes you a little in-game dialog sappy note, telling you a few things he loves about you. Might make a singular Devilgram post with you, hugging his Ruri-chan body pillow, captioned ''my #1 and my #2'

ASMODEUS

"Ohh! Of course you're popular MC! Everyone loves you, and me of course. We're the top power couple! Now let me take a look." He smiles at you, smile faltering slightly as he reads the letter. Eyes blinking a little stiffly, he hands it back to you. "That's so superficial, you're much better off with me." And with that, he walks away.

He shows the world exactly who's you are immediately. You're tagged in maybe 10 posts in a row. Pictures of you and him, some of just you, all captioned things like, 'my love' and 'my number one always' and 'remembering the moment I fell for you' and it's unmistakable.

Becomes even more affectionate in the RAD hallways, snuggling up to you, sitting in your lap/having you sit in his during lunch.

SATAN

He frowns, putting his hand out for the paper. He glances over it, brow furrowing as he reads. "This is amateur writing. You deserve much better." He hands it back to you, walking past you quickly with a scowl on this face. He turns back halfway down the hall, "be ready at 6:30." You decide to leave him be.

First order of business, he writes you a beautiful letter. It's long winded, many poetry references, and references to stories you've read together. Even compares you to a cat, somehow. He does not give it to you yet.

He dresses nice for your date, electing to take you to dinner, and then a stroll through the royal gardens. As you approach the doors to the House of Lamentation, he turns to you, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a wax sealed letter, your name written neatly on the other side.

Sits a little closer to you at lunch time, and in the library. Hoping someones will see and rumors will spread.

BEELZEBUB

He doesn't read the letter. He's a little jealous, but he thinks reading it will upset him, so he stays away.

He makes the small effort to hold your hand more. He's not normally one for PDA, but for you, he can make a small exception. You can see how flushed his face is when you look up at him.

On game days, he lets you wear his jersey until he needs it. Might post a picture on his Devilgram of you in it. Captioned, '#1 fan'

After one of his games, he sees you talking to a lower demon, they seem to be standing awfully close. He sees them throw their arm around you, and so he calls for you, pretending he didn't see them. He waves at you, jogging over and cupping your face with his hands before placing his lips on yours.

BELPHEGOR

He's half asleep when you tell him. Isn't really bothered until you make the comment about competition. Now he's awake, and looking around like there's a present threat. Yanks the letter from you, holding it close to his face while he scowls. He scans the paper, before rolling his eyes and rolling back over onto his side, taking the letter with him.

Pretends he's not bothered. Asmo brings it up at the dinner table, Belphie calls it a "stupid letter" and crosses his arms, slouching.

Doesn't bring it up again, but you notice he's a little more cuddly in public than he was before. One day after class, he finds you in the library studying, he saunters over, kissing you brashly, tongue tracing the edge of your bottom lip,and loudly, before wiping his lip with his thumb, and sitting next to you, "what're you studying today, MC?"

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[13uswntimagines]

Eras of Us- Era 3: Ugh Oh, I'm Falling in Love (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)

Eras of Us master list

This is the Era where they're falling in love, learning more about each other, and how to navigate their relationships with their friends and families.

warning- Sexual content in this chapter.

Author's note: Hey everyone, i'm so sorry this took so long. theres just a lot of stuff in this chapter that i really wanted to get right. I hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think. comments are literally my favorite thing.

February 2017 'Cause you could be the one that I love I could be the one that you dream of

As it turned out, being Taylor’s girlfriend was far easier than you imagined it would be. It wasn’t all that much different than when the two of you were just friends, actually. 

You two still texted continuously, now each message was dotted with a heart or a little kiss. You two still talked on the phone all of the time, though you had developed a bad habit of falling asleep on late-night calls with her. 

The only thing that had really changed was that now the photos you sent her were slightly more… suggestive on purpose. 

And now you actually got to kiss her, which was fun, except you had barely seen her since you two started dating. 

Between the holidays and dealing with your shitty agent about yet another fucked up trade, you hadn’t had time to fly to her, and she had been tied up with her family and recording her new album to fly to you. But the two of you made due (ie falling asleep on the phone with her nearly every night). 

It still sucked you wouldn’t get to see her until after January camp. At least you only had 1 more game to play in. 

“Hurry up you two,” Rose called over her shoulder, idly swinging Emily’s hand next to her. 

You groaned, adjusting your grip on Mal’s legs as her arms squeezed more tightly around your neck. “It’s not my fault this koala demanded a piggyback ride,” 

Mal had been insanely clingy since the start of camp, draping herself all over you at every opportunity. It wasn’t something you noticed at first, but it had become so constant, that it was beginning to grate on your patience. 

Especially after she interrupted you every time you tried to talk to Taylor. The only moment you had gotten alone was at 3 am, and you had been too drowsy to do more than stare at her. 

“I’m not that heavy ducky,” Mal hugged, pinching your ear. 

“No, but it’s been like 2 miles,” You huffed, tilting your head away from her, and picking up your pace so you were even with Rose and Emily. 

Emily rolled her eyes at you. “And whose fault is that?” 

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back. “Cheney said they have the best mochas,”

“And it’ll make it very hard for Alex to beat you this week,” Rose snorted, gesturing towards the shiny watch on your wrist. “If you’re gonna make us take a hike to a coffee shop, you should at least be honest with why we’re taking it,” 

“She should be more active in her rest time,” You said, earning another eye roll as the four of you finally made it to the cafe Cheney had mentioned when you talked to her over the holidays. 

It was just a bonus that Alex would need to find 4 extra exercise miles to match you in her stupid little app. It’s what she had done to you with Kelley’s family’s stupid 10 mile Christmas morning hike after all. You had to go on a beach run to make up for it. 

“Or maybe you should be less competitive,” Emily grumbled, holding the door open for you and Mal to walk through. Her gaze stayed glued out the door even after you stepped through. 

You rolled your eyes. “And what fun would that be?” 

You dropped Mal’s legs as you got in line next to Rose, and she landed on her feet, but she didn’t let go of your neck like you had hoped she would.

“We would be behind in the practice scrimmages against the vets too,” You added as you turned your attention to the menu above the cashier. 

There weren’t any… normal drinks. They all had fancy names, so you had to read the description to figure out what the fuck it was. You sighed internally, deciding that you absolutely shouldn’t have listened to Cheney, because long complicated descriptions like delectable dark roast, mixed with Dutch hand-made chocolate ganache, and essence of citrus aurantium topped with creamy dreamy whipped cream and powdered orange blossoms: written out in small, tight together cursive was going to take you forever to decipher. 

Especially with the way all the L’s and E’s kept flipping places, and how Mal kept shifting your entire body each time she moved. 

You were going to have a headache by the time you actually made it through the menu. 

“Ok, those guys are totally following us,” 

You blinked in the direction of Emily’s voice, and away from the migraine-inducing menu. You followed her hand to where she was pointing at two men wearing aviators sitting at a stable near the back of the café. 

The one facing you was older, with dark salt and pepper hair, wearing a leather jacket, while the other was younger and blonde with his back to you. 

It made you roll your eyes again. 

Tony and Zach had been your shadows since you and Taylor started dating. You saw them outside your apartment building in Chicago, and ran into them everywhere you went, even when you attended a Bears game against the Chiefs. 

You could tell that they were trying to be discrete since you had brought up the issue with Taylor the first week you noticed them, but it was still annoying that she wouldn’t budge on her stance. 

“I’ll take care of it,” You grumbled, carefully untangling yourself from Mal’s grasp, ignoring the high-pitched whine she let out at being displaced. “Just order me the closest thing to a mocha please,” 

At least now you didn’t have to read the menu. 

You ignored the feeling of their eyes on your back as you walked up to the table your two bodyguards were sitting at, knocking on the wood when you were close enough. “I thought I made it clear that I don’t need a babysitter,”

“I prefer the term watchman,” Tony hummed, barely even looking at you. 

Zach nodded. “Watchmen is a much better term,” 

You glared at the blonde man, before turning back to Tony. “I prefer that you don’t follow me around and creep out my friends,” 

Tony paused, lifting a finger to shift his aviators down to the end of his nose so he could peer at you over the rim of them. “We’ll try to be more discreet,” 

You shook your head. “No. You will stop following me,” 

“Can’t. Bosses orders,” Tony shrugged, readjusting his aviators back over his eyes. “And frankly, the team doesn’t have enough security,” 

Your glare deepened. “Because no one knows who the fuck we are,” 

“Still, I shouldn’t have been able to get your room number from the front desk receptionist,” He countered. “or have Zach get into the changing room at the practice field,”

“Normal people don’t do that shit,” You grit back.

His point proved nothing. 

No fan was trying to sneak into your locker room to leave notes in your cubby and no other people had interest in your room number. 

Sure, the note and the peanut butter cookies Taylor had delivered to your room were cool, but two men staking out every place you went certainly was not. Not when Emily wouldn’t shut up about your mysterious friend being in the mob because now you had people following you. 

She couldn’t give up on the angle, going so far that even Mal was annoyed with her. 

You had been annoyed 5 weeks ago when she brought the idea up for the first time during New Year's when she spotted them after you came out of a fried chicken place in Atlanta. 

Tony sighed, fixing his leather jacket.“If you're really insistent about this, you know who you need to take it up with. Otherwise, I think Ms. Sonnett, Ms. Pugh, and Ms. Lavelle have finished ordering,” 

It irritated you that he always referred to your friends so formally, even if he had never met them. 

“I will,” You grit out, already pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Because you two are ridiculous,” 

Tony made a face, dipping his aviators to peer at you again. “And Taylor is ridiculous for caring about your safety?”

You opened and closed your mouth several times. That wasn’t fair. 

Tony slid his glasses back into place as a waitress brought them 2 coffees. 

Your jaw clenched and you didn’t your best not to glare at the smug way he sipped the steaming glass. You hadn’t even seen them order. 

“Your friends have chosen a table,” He hummed, tilting his head to where Emily, Mal, and Rose were all staring at you with wide eyes. 

“This isn’t the end of this conversation,” You muttered, grabbing one of the 3 chocolate chip cookies that had been delivered with their coffee. 

“We will try to be more discreet,” Zach said, passing you a napkin. 

You took a bite of your cookie. “You better,” 

“We’ll do our best,” Tony chuckled, gesturing towards your friends with his chin again. “Go enjoy your overly fancy coffee,”

You made a low noise, turning on your heel and heading back over to your friends, who were overtly staring at the men now. 

“You’re in the mob right?” Emily asked before you were even fully seated in the chair next to Mal. 

You didn’t reply, instead breaking the cookie into 3 and passing the larger part to Rose for her and Emily to share and the other to Mal, who was already wrapping herself around you again. 

“Emily stop,” The forward whined loudly in your ear as she took the cookie. 

“Oh come on, just answer the question,” Emily said, her lips pulling into a teasing grin. “it’s totally obvious,”

“I’m not in the mob,” You grumbled, taking a sip of your coffee and frowning. 

You liked mochas, they were your go-to order, but this one had caramel in it, and was far too sweet. You would drink it anyway though, because one of your friends had paid for it. 

Rose leaned forward in her chair, resting crossed arms on the table in front of her conspiratorially. “Then why was our coffee already paid for?”

You frowned, your cup hitting the table with a low thud. “What?”

“I gave them my name and she said someone had already paid for us,” Rose said, her voice low. 

Your eyebrows pulled more tightly together. “Who?”

“Someone named Athena,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you rolled your eyes. 

It had been Taylor. Of course, it was her, she had even sent the goons she had following you coffees and an extra cookie. 

Of course that was the name Taylor used. 

She had been making fun of her nickname since she found out that it was her contact name in her phone, and you blushed through your explanation that she was a goddess and the smartest person you knew. 

“See, totally a mob boss name,” Emily said accusingly, gesturing wildly with her hands. “who else would call themselves Athena,”

You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes again they would fall out of your head, so you refrained. 

No matter how good it would have felt. 

You pulled away from Mal and wrestled your phone out of your pocket. You flipped to your messages, ignoring the one aptly named Athena for now, opening the thread you shared with Alex to get it to stop buzzing. 

Alexandria🐬: Did you have to walk to a coffee shop across the city? Haven’t you ever heard of an Uber?

MiniMorgs: Wanted to get some fresh air, and Cheney recommended it

Alexandria🐬: More like you wanted to win this week’s challenge. Was it worth the walk?

MiniMorgs: I didn’t have to read the overly complicated menu, so yes. #dyslexic problems

Alexandria🐬: LoL. Maybe we should get you yellow-tinted glasses to help with that

MiniMorgs: Whatever. Good luck catching up on miles

Alexandria🐬:🖕🏻

Another coffee cup landed in front of you with a clink, and you blinked up from your phone at the waitress. 

You frowned up at her. “Ugh, thanks?” 

You hadn’t ordered another coffee. 

“The person who paid for your order also asked us to make an extra mocha, no caramel, no whipped cream, and no sweetening syrup,” The young girl explained quickly, her hands fidgeting in front of her. “it also comes with a heart and a little winky face,” 

“Oh, thanks,” You sent her a genuine smile, the dimple on your left cheek poking out just a bit. 

She blushed.

“No problem,” she said, turning away from you and your friends very quickly before practically running back to the counter. 

You didn’t watch her as she left, instead sipping your new coffee and sighing in content. 

It was exactly what you wanted. The perfect cup of coffee if you did say so yourself. 

You glanced back down at your phone, flipping through your messages to the one labeled Athena👸🏼

Thanks for the coffee. It’s much better than the sugary shit Emily ordered.

“Do you have to flirt with every woman you see?” Mal scoffed, placing more of her weight on you as she draped her arms over your shoulders. 

You grunted, slipping your phone in your pocket and adjusting in your seat so she didn’t knock you over. “I wasn’t flirting, I was just being nice,” 

You practically felt her roll her eyes as Emily snorted across from you. 

“What? I was!” You bit out, your voice dripping in incredulity. 

“You used the smile you use when you’re trying to get into someone’s pants,” Mal hummed, her lips caressing the shell of your ear as her hand dipped its way under the hem of your Alexia Putellas Barça jersey.  “I would know,” 

You jerked away from her, nearly spilling your coffee. Your chair squeaked as you pushed away, creating space between the two of you. 

You didn’t want her touching you. 

Not like you had in the past. 

There was a time when you craved her touch. Where you twisted yourself into knots to be worthy of her affection. 

You allowed yourself to get closer to her than you had to anyone else, and in the end she had decided that you still weren’t good enough. 

She decided that you would never be good enough for her. Not like Dansby was. But even after that you had pined after every little scrap of care she sent you, and you allowed yourself to believe that it was all you deserved. 

That it was real.

Even in your short time with Taylor, you knew that real was something very different.  She didn’t make you feel like you were always making up for something. Like you had to earn her care. 

She made you feel worthy and had butterflies flapping in your chest. She made you feel seen, even before you were together, and you wouldn’t do anything to put that in jeopardy. 

“Whoa, easy there,” Emily chuckled. “Didn't think you were so sensitive to the mention of your history,” 

You shifted uncomfortably, fixing the edge of your jersey. 

“Just tickled me,” You muttered, taking another sip of your coffee as Mal didn’t even hesitate to wrapped herself around you again. 

You ignored the knowing look Rose sent you, and cleared your throat. “We should probably head back though. Think you can walk on your own this time?” 

You gently elbowed Mal, sending Emily a cheeky grin when she wiggled her eyebrows. 

Mal sighed heavily, her lips returning to near your ear. “I don’t think so. I think I still need a piggyback,”

You huffed at her pouted words, shoving your extra coffee cup into her hands as you stood. “You have to carry the cups though,” 

“Deal!” She cheered, already trying to climb on your back. 

You didn’t have the heart (or the stomach) to tell her that you didn’t want to carry her back. You couldn’t when it made her light up so much. 

“You’re such a pushover,” Rose muttered as she held the café door open for you. 

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back.

You were a people pleaser to your core, and you couldn’t help that. Mal was your friend and you liked to make her happy. 

Taylor would understand. 

*****

You were sweating your ass off by the time you made it back to the team hotel, and your legs felt like you had just played 90 minutes. 

You supposed walking 4 miles with a fully grown forward on your back would do that to you, and the detours Emily kept taking because of the “Mob Guys” following you made the journey more like 6. Dawn was not going to be pleased, and you felt like you needed a recovery day to recover from your recovery day. 

You dropped Mal’s legs as you stepped into the welcome AC of the lobby, ignoring her yelp at the move. 

“I’m done being your pack Mule,” You muttered, breathing hard. “Use your own damn legs,”

“Not a mule. A graceful stallion,” Mal hummed, leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek before she skipped off. “Thanks for the ride,” 

She missed your eye roll.  But Kelley didn’t. “Coming on a bit strong, isn't she?” 

You blinked at Kelley, pulling your sunglasses up to rest in your wavy curls, taking in the way she was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Don’t they always?” 

“You didn't have a friends-with-benefits relationship with most of the people who hit on you,” Kelley shrugged. 

You made a sound low in your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m not interested in continuing that,” 

You didn’t know she knew about that.

“I know,” Kelley nodded, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. “You’re interested in burrito girl,” 

You hummed. 

You were more than just interested in Taylor, and Kelley knew that. She had been getting regular updates after she talked you off the ledge the morning after, and it was kinda nice to get to share with someone. 

Kelley shifted again, and you scratched harder at the back of your neck as a very uncomfortable silence settled over you. 

“I didn’t bring you coffee,” You said, finally looking at her. 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. She was spinning the ring on her forefinger more rapidly than you had ever seen, and shifting like she was… nervous. 

“I know,” She said, her eyes flicking up to meet your blue before rapidly looking away. “Can we chat though?” 

You frowned. “What’s up?” 

Kelley bit her lip and led you over to an isolated meeting room, closing the door behind you. 

She took a steadying breath like she was stealing herself as she turned to look at you. “I’m going to ask your sister to marry me,” 

You stared at her, your mouth dropping open at her words. 

She was going to ask your sister to marry her. 

Her and Alex were going to get married. 

But weren’t they practically married already? They had been together since you were 10. They lived together, had 2 dogs and were actively looking for a team to transfer to together. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you were.  So you did what you always did when you were caught off guard. 

You painted a playful smirk on your face, wiggling your eyebrows. “Alex right? Because I don’t think Jen or Jerry will react well,” 

Kelley sighed. “I’m being serious. We’ve been together for almost 7 years. I love her,” 

You raised an eyebrow at her, your smirk melting a little. “Ok, and?” 

She spun her ring a little faster. “I’m not asking your permission, but-“

“You want my blessing or some shit?” You cut her off, your eyebrows furrowing impossibly deeper. “Jesus Kell, her and I haven’t had a proper conversation since I was like 12. My opinion doesn’t matter,”

You actively avoided conversations with your sister. She barely knew anything about the adult version of yourself. 

There was no way she could care what you thought about her marrying Kelley. 

Kelley shook her head, closing the distance between you and catching your hand. “I think your opinion is one of the only ones she cares about,” 

Her voice went very soft, and you swallowed hard. You weren’t at a place to consider what she meant. You couldn't deal with all of the baggage that came with the implications. 

Yes, you were fairly content to interact with her through the stupid app the two of you competed on, but that was nothing deeper than just that. A competition. 

It didn’t mean anything. Not like Kelley was assuming it meant. 

You shook your head, swallowing down your feelings and locking them into a little box in the center of your chest. 

“She might be my sister, but I’ll kick her ass if she hurts you. Or says no, even though she’s not going to say no. She loves you. I guess I’ll kick your ass too if you hurt her so don’t,” You said softly, drawing up the courage to meet Kelley’s eyes again. 

A brilliant smile broke across her face, and her eyes lit up like the two of you had just won the World Cup. “I promise I won’t kid,” 

“Good,” You ran a hand through your hair, sucking in a long breath through your nose. “Is there anything else?”

“Don’t you want to know how I’m going to do it?” Kelley asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. 

Maybe a part of you cared about whatever romantic thing Kelley had planned for her, but the larger part just… wasn’t interested.  It wasn’t like you were involved in Alex’s life. You didn’t get to see the ins and outs of her relationship with Kelley, and that was your own choice. If you got too close, you knew you would get hurt. 

You had before anyway. 

“As long as it’s not during or directly after sex, I think it’ll be fine,” You huffed out, covering your wavering curiosity. 

Kelley rolled her eyes. “I’m going to do it when we go to New York. I have a reservation for the top of the Empire State Building,”

“That’ll be pretty,” You hummed, your voice going soft. 

You knew how much your older sister loved city lights. It was nearly as much as she loved to look at the stars. 

When the two of you were young, you would sit on the roof outside of her window for hours staring at the sky, naming the constellations. It was what got you so into Greek mythology after all. You wondered if she still remembered all of the stories. 

“She loves the lights,” Kelley agreed, watching you carefully. “We’re going to have dinner after. Jen and Jerrie will be there,” 

You nodded. “I’ll be there too,” 

“Excellent,” Kelley’s smile just got wider. 

“Yeah,” You said, trailing off and looking towards the door. “I told Alyssa I’d watch film with her before the game tomorrow, so are we done?” 

Kelley chuckled, not at all surprised that you wanted to escape this conversation. “Wouldn’t want to keep the head of the Department of Defense waiting,” 

You always pulled away when your family was mentioned, and that habit was only magnified when emotions were also involved. 

“Nope,” You muttered, practically running towards the door. 

She wished things were different.

Alex was making the steps to bridge the gap in your relationship, and for the first time in a long time, you seemed willing to meet her halfway.  Neither of them were sure exactly what had caused the rift, or why you had always been so… reluctant to let her fix it. Or to talk about it in general.

She hoped that the little steps would actually lead to something this time.  She hoped that you would let your walls down. She hoped that you would actually let yourself be happy. 

*****

Rain pounded down around you as you tracked the ball across midfield. 

Games like this were your favorite. 

The USWNT was up by 4 and there was only 30 seconds of stoppage time left. You had a goal and 2 assists and you had played incredibly well. It was 75 degrees so the rain was like the mist from a shower, warm and comfortable. 

It let you take your mind off of the stupid phone call that had come just before you loaded up the bus to head to the stadium. It drowned out Roary Dame’s voice explaining that you were a great play, just not what they needed. 

Explaining that he had put your name in the trading block for the highest draft pick they could get. So they could finally have their star striker because you were the wrong Morgan for that. 

This game made you feel… good. It made you feel powerful. 

You smiled at Sam as she came to a stop beside you. 

Alex and Mal were getting ready to take a time-wasting corner to end the game, and you and Sam were just there in case Jamaica got a counter opportunity. 

“Emily says you’re in the mob now,” She said conversationally. “And that you have two huge dudes following you around,” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mob,” 

“But you do have 2 dudes following you,” She asked, tilting her head to the mouth of the tunnel where Zach and Tony were huddled under an umbrella. 

They were right, it was kinda scary how far they could get without any real security clearance. They shouldn’t have been able to get into the stadium, much less on the field, but here they were. 

“I have a very overprotective friend,” You muttered as the ref blew the signature three whistles to signal the end of the game. You paused before you ran off.

Taylor wasn’t your friend, she was something much much more. You didn’t feel right calling her a friend. 

You turned back to Sam, scratching the wet hairs off the back of your neck. “Well, a very protective more than a friend,” 

A smile broke across her features, and you couldn’t help but match it.  “Don’t mention that to anyone though,” You added, suddenly nervous that she would tell the team, and then the rumor mill would start.

You weren’t ready to answer questions about Taylor yet. Or to listen to your teammates tease you. You also didn’t want to share her yet. 

Sam winked at you. “Your secret is safe with me,” 

“Thanks,” You said, heading towards the tunnel, pausing at a young girl waving a soaked-through Morgan sign a few feet away from the tunnel. 

You could see a big 13 painted on the sign, so you knew it wasn’t meant for you, but still it was your name too. 

“Hey, I like your sign,” You hummed, flashing the girl a million-dollar smile, ignoring the phones pointed in your direction. “Even if it has the wrong number on it,” 

The girl blushed deeply. “I like you too. I just wasn’t sure what number you would be wearing,” 

It was a good excuse, you thought. Or it would have been over a year ago before you made the switch to number 12. 

You hated when they pretended to give a shit about you just because you were the one standing in front of them. You knew the only Morgan they really cared about was your sister, and you wished they would just own it. 

“Well thank ya,” You winked, ignoring her little lie. “I know it’s just because she’s a striker. Everyone loves a good goal scorer,” 

The red in the girl's cheeks got even more pronounced, and your grin turned slightly wolfish. She didn’t hear the bitter note in your voice. 

Everyone wanted the star striker, something you would never be. 

“Do you have something you want me to sign?” 

The girl shook her head, looking at her friend who also shook her head. The girl looked back at you, biting her lip. 

“Can I get your jersey?” She asked hesitantly, and your smirk only got wider. 

“I think I can do one better,” You said, turning back towards the field. Your eyes roved over the players until you found the one you were looking for. 

“Hey Al,” You called out, cupping your hands over your face to amplify the sound. 

Her head snapped in your direction, and you waved her over. You tried not to let it bother you that the girl's squeals got so much louder as she jogged over, a questioning smile on her face. 

“What’s up?” She asked as soon as she was close enough, and you could hear the slight surprise in her voice. It was one of the first times you had actually spoken to her since last camp.

You tilted your head towards the fans beside you. “You’ve got a fan and you owe me because I beat you 5 weeks in a row,” 

“And?” She raised an eyebrow at you. 

“I’m cashing in,” You said, again tilting your head towards the fans. “She would like your jersey,” 

Alex never took her eyes off of you as she stripped off her soaked-through jersey, and passed it to the girl. It was like she was trying to figure out what you were thinking.  But she had lost the ability to read your mind years ago. 

“Thanks,” You said, flashing her a grin and turning back towards the girl. “Now you’ve got the jersey you actually want,” 

Alex’s lips pulled downward at the sarcasm in your tone, hidden by false cheeriness. It was the same tone you used when something was annoying you, but you didn’t know how (or have the courage) to vocalize it. 

“Oh my god, thank you!” The girl cheered, looking at Alex instead of at you. 

“Both of you,” She added quickly when Alex raised an eyebrow at her. 

You waved her off, throwing a “No worries,” over your shoulder as you headed towards the tunnel to get out of the rain. 

Alex waved at the girls too, sending them a smile before jogging off after you. There was something so… off about that interaction, and she wasn’t willing to let it go anymore. 

Her and Kelley had discussed it, and while she understood the defender's advice to not push you. To let you come to her, she was tired of waiting. 

The texting was nice, but it didn’t carry over to your real-life interactions and that was… frustrating. It wasn’t getting her anywhere. 

She caught your arm as you rounded the corner to the locker room, spinning you on the spot and stepping into your space so you were pinned against the cold concrete wall of the tunnel, unable to run away this time. 

“What the fuck was that all about?” She asked, keeping her voice level, even though the two of you were nose to nose. 

Your eyes flashed up to meet hers, identical blue boring into yours. It made you feel like she could see into your soul. Like you were naked in front of her.  You so badly wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“She had a Morgan sign with a huge 13 on it, so I went to say hello,” You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but Alex saw through it. “And they asked for a jersey, but I knew it wasn’t mine they wanted,”

There was something in your voice, in your posture that she couldn’t place. 

“But they asked you for it?” She pressed, and your eyes flicked away from her as you gave her a barely perceptible nod. 

“It would have been a consolation prize. They wanted yours,” You said, twisting your arm free and finally squeezing out from where you were trapped. “Everyone always wants yours,”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you tried to make your way down the hallway, but Alex heard you anyway. 

She again caught your arm before you could walk away, again spinning you around to face her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Alex,” You grumbled, shaking your head and again breaking her hold on you. “Just drop it,”

“No. I will not drop it,” She bit back, not letting you walk away from her. “I’ve been dropping it since you were 10 and look where it’s gotten us. I can’t fix something if I don’t understand what’s wrong,” 

It was as if she let you leave. If she let you go before she understood you would be gone for good. You would lose the progress you had made. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Fix it?” 

What did Alex mean that she wanted to fix it? She didn’t have a Time Machine. 

“Yes. Fix it,” She said, fighting to keep her volume low and her tone even. You didn’t respond well to exasperation. “We were so close and now it’s like we can’t even stand each other. I don’t want us to be this tense for the rest of our lives,” 

You stared at her like she had 3 heads. There was nothing that she could do. No magic wand she could wave to change it. 

The world preferred her over you, and they probably always would. You had learned from the time you were small that you weren’t worth as much as Alex was. You were invisible when she was there. You accepted it. The only person who didn’t make you feel that way was Taylor.

You shook your head. “There is nothing to fix Alex. You can’t do anything. Now let me go,” 

Her face fell, and something broke in her eyes. It made your heart hurt, but it was the truth. 

You twisted your arm out of her grasp and turned on your heel heading into the locker room. Alex stared after you, something you said gnawing in her brain. 

Everyone always wants yours

It was nearly as bad as the “Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient” you gave her on the practice field in November. 

She wasn’t sure what had happened between the two of you, or why you were so… frustratingly stubborn about allowing her to build a bridge over the mile-wide gap between you. 

Your attitude shifting was also giving her whiplash. You seemed so… open over text. So willing to interact.  She didn’t know how to navigate it all, and it seemed that you weren’t at all willing to help her. 

“You good?” 

Alex jumped at Kelley’s voice in her ear and gentle hands on her shoulders. 

“No,” she shook her head, relaxing back into the defender's grasp. 

Kelley hummed, and placed a kiss just below her ear, soothing her. “What happened?”

“Y/n called me over to give a girl my jersey, and then told her that she had the one she actually wanted,” Alex explained, frustration evident in her voice. “and when I asked, she told me that everyone always wants mine,” 

“Al, we talked about this,” Kelley sighed, as your sister pulled away from her. 

“I know,” Alex grumbled running a frustrated hand through her soaked hair. 

They had many conversations about it. They both agreed that the best move was to take it slow. To let you dictate the pace, but neither of them expected you to be so… passive-aggressive. 

Not when you let people push you too far because you didn’t know how to set limits, or you just pretended like they didn’t exist. 

She didn’t know how to act when you went out of your way to interact with her and then tried to run away. 

“But we never accounted for this,” She gestured wildly towards the locker room door. “She called me over,” 

“And then you chased after her,” Kelley countered. “Because she told you a snippet of what’s bothering her that is supposed to make sense, but it doesn’t because you don’t have context. And you need to understand. I know,” 

“She said I can’t fix it, Kell,” Alex’s voice finally broke, and Kelley was quick to pull the striker into her chest as her shoulders shook. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Kelley closed her eyes, resting her cheek on the top of Alex’s head, holding her tightly. 

She could see it from your side. 

Alex had spent years unsure of how to bridge the ever-widening gap between you. You had spent years being compared to her, being crucified by the media for not being her, so it made sense for you to be wary. For you to try and protect yourself.  What didn’t make sense was the hot and cold way you were going about it. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Kelley said, holding your sister together as she crumbled. “But we need to take this at her pace. And that means one step at a time,”

*****

Slipping out of the locker room undetected was far easier than you expected it to be, but then again you had retreated to the showers long before most of the team was even off of the field. You hadn’t been planning to escape, but when the text came through on your phone, it was a no-brainer. 

You smiled widely as you made the final turn down the tunnel, revealing Taylor leaning up against the large Visitors sign texting. “Fancy meeting you here, I thought you had album stuff,” 

“Heard you didn’t like my henchmen,” She smirked, pushing herself off the wall and meeting you halfway. “So I thought I’d come to check on you myself,”

You nearly fell with the force of the hug, burying your face in her neck and squeezing her tightly to you. “I don’t like the henchmen. I don’t need babysitters,”

She hummed, leaning back just enough to look you in the eyes and brushing your wet curls out of your eyes. “You don’t need babysitters, but you do need protection. Let me be a little overprotective of you,” 

You could feel her breath on your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean in and connect your mouths. Your hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans and you squeezed lightly. 

It was slightly scary how addicted to her you were. How you craved her touch. 

She made a low sound in the back of her throat. One of her hands hooked into the hem of your sweats, and the other wove into the short curls at the back of your neck, pulling you tighter to her. 

You stumbled forward molding yourself to her, as the kiss changed. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, running against yours, and you could feel her desire. 

It didn’t surprise you. You knew what she wanted. What she expected. It was the same thing that every girl expected from you, so you just let it happen. 

You let her pull you into the closet (unsure of how it appeared out of thin air, or where her shirt had suddenly disappeared to), pushing her against the only wall not covered in athletic equipment, and pinning her there with your hips. 

Your lips dragged across her neck, and you longed to pull the velvety skin into your mouth. To place a mark, a claim out in the open where everyone could see. But you didn’t. 

You trailed down to her collarbone, skimming your teeth along it as your hand slid into her pants, past her underwear, and through her warm wetness. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that graced your features. “Is this all for me?” 

“You’re hot when you play,” She keened as you teased at her entrance, gathering her slick on your middle finger. “And even hotter when you’re drenched and you kept pulling your shirt off to wipe the rain out of your eyes,” 

You hummed, tracing her lower lips and brushing your middle finger across her clit. Her hips jolted, knocking into your thigh and it reminded you of how players always fought you for ball possession. 

How they would press back into you while you tried to tap it through their legs. How they always bucked back to keep you from picking their pocket. 

Taylor’s head hit the wall, and you worked your lips back up her neck, lingering on the underside of her jaw. “Please y/n,”

You hummed, dragging your teeth along her chin, and slipping your finger inside. She was warm and tight, squeezing your fingers as you dragged them against her walls. 

Her hand tightened in the short curls at the base of your neck, while the other clawed at the bare skin of your shoulders. 

She tasted like sweat and rain, and something just so Taylor. 

It was like the sun on your face during the perfect practice, using your arm to wipe the sweat off your upper lip after you sank a ball past one of the keepers.  It was like your teammates pulling you into tight hugs, running their fingers through your hair after you scored on a scorching summer day, their hands slipping through yours as they headed back to their starting positions. 

She shuddered against you as you curled your fingers, finding the spongy patch inside of her, and you carefully ran your teeth across the special spot right below her ear. 

It made you feel… powerful to have her so on edge already.  Nearly as powerful as when you were 5 goals up on a team, or when a player couldn’t make it past you in midfield. 

“Y/n,” 

It was like playing with Mal, and how you knew where she was going to be before she moved, so you could pull the opposing players and set her up for a goal. 

Except it was better. It was what you imagined scoring in the World Cup would feel like. Or assisting in a goal. 

“Y/n,” Taylor panted, using the hand in your hair to tug you away from her neck. 

“What baby?” you asked, glassy eyes blinking blearily up at her as you again curled your fingers. 

Her head fell back and hit the wall with a thump.  “Oh my god,” She moaned low in her throat, fighting to get out whatever she was saying. She swallowed hard, her hands keeping you from continuing your ministrations. “The door,” 

As if on cue, three loud rasps sounded from the door just to your left. “I know you’re in there Y/n. We need to talk. Now,”

Your head fell forward and landed heavily on Taylor’s shoulder as you let out a groan at Kelley’s voice. “One second,”

Why did she always have to pick the wrong moment? 

You pulled back, meeting Taylor’s eyes. “Just stay here,” 

She nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from her, and ran your hand through your hair, trying to straighten your ever-messy curls. Your other hand fixed your rumpled shirt, and she frowned.  She could have sworn you took yours off when you devested her of hers. 

You opened the door just a crack, pushing your head out and glaring at Kelley. “What? I’m busy,”

Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together, a frown firmly set in her features. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You felt Taylor’s hand on the top of your back, warm and heavy, comforting in a way you weren’t sure you would ever really deserve. 

“A lot of things,” You grumbled, shifting so Kelley couldn’t get a good look inside the closet.  “I’ll need more information to give you a more defined answer,” 

Her eyes narrowed. “You told Alex that she couldn’t fix it between you,” 

“She can’t,” You shrugged. “Are we done?” 

“No,” Kelley bit back, her hand finding the door to prevent you from slamming it closed. “Not until you talk to your sister and fix this shit,” 

You were already shaking your head. “Talking is not something that Alex and I do,”

Kelley snorted. “But you’ll text,” 

You shrank a little at her tone. 

The texting was different. It was safer, more controlled. She wasn’t close enough to hurt you. You needed that distance. 

You felt a hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles at the point that always grew so tense when you were stressed. 

You let out a breath. “That’s different. We only text when one of us is winning,” 

“Is it?” Kelley pressed, unwilling to let it go.  “Because from the outside, it looks like you share more than just your exercise routine,” 

The hand grew more insistent, and you closed your eyes. “I don’t want to argue with you,”

You could understand why Kelley was upset. She was protective over the people she loved, and while you knew she cared for you, it was nothing compared to how much she loved your sister. She would always choose Alex over you. 

And that was ok. It would be weird if it wasn’t that way. 

“No, you just want to get back to your quick fuck,”

Kelley's mouth twisted around the words, and it felt like a knife slipping into your chest. 

You flushed red, and a hand caught the back of your collar as you jerked forward. “Don’t call her that,” 

You knew what your reputation was, but you never expected Kelley to try and use it against you. Taylor was far more than a quick fuck. You cared about her more than you cared about nearly anyone. 

his was why you hadn’t told Kelley yet. 

Kelley took a step back, sucking in a calming breath through her nose. “Look, all I’m saying is that you need to cut Alex some slack. It’s not fair for her with your hot and cold routine. You at least have to meet her halfway,” 

“I’m trying,” You sighed, running a hand through your wild curls. “What else do you want from me when my own team is fucking trading me because I’ll never be the striker that she is,”

Kelley frowned. “What?”

“Those kids said they didn’t know my number because it was new. I changed it over a year ago. They didn’t have anything for me to sign, because they didn’t want my signature. They wanted Alex. Everyone always wants Alex, and that’s not something she can fix,” You explained, your voice going soft and… honest. “I wasn’t being cruel. I was being honest,”

“Oh,” Kelley’s frown deepened, as your comment to Alex suddenly made sense. 

The fans had lied to you when you were already hurt from the trade. They made you feel more unwanted. 

“Yeah oh,” You said, running another hand through your hair. “We text when one of us is winning. That’s our relationship, so just leave it. Is there anything else?” 

Kelley shook her head and cleared her throat. “Bus leaves in 30,”

You painted a smirk across your features.

“Cool, I’ll see you in 29 then,” You said, as you slammed the door, and turned to lean against it. You slid down until you were seated, drawing your knees to your chest and letting your head fall against it with a low thump. “Fuck me,”

Why did Kelley always have to make things difficult?

Sure she was kinda right, but why did she have to remind you of that and get you to admit why you were upset? It was so infuriating that she wouldn’t let you keep her at arm's length. 

“I would but I don’t think that’ll help,” Taylor chuckled, settling down beside you, resting a hand on your knee. 

You groaned, blinking at her. You had nearly forgotten she was there. And that she was shirtless…“You’d be surprised. There’s something very… freeing about losing yourself in someone else,” 

There was something freeing in having all of a woman’s attention. Of you just being enough for them even if it was only for a moment. Of having something Alex never had, and of being in the only situation where you couldn’t be compared to her (though a few girls had mused about it afterward, it’s why you started skipping the after-cuddling). 

Taylor made a low noise, shaking her head. “I think talking will help you more in the long run,” 

You shrugged. You didn’t want to argue with her. 

“I’m sorry Kelley interrupted before you could…you know…” You blushed deeply, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. You couldn’t say the word orgasm. 

Taylor frowned, her thumb pausing on the inside of your knee. “Y/n,” 

You didn’t stop though. You didn’t let her ask you the hard question. 

“I’m surprised the goon squad didn’t stop them, especially since your goons are here too,”  You said, scratching your neck, and tugging off your sweatshirt by the hood. “Here,” 

You passed her the item, watching with rapt attention as she pulled it on, and her abs flexed.

“Jason is getting the car, and Tony is at the end of the hall,” She hummed, doing the button on her pants once your hoodie was on. “I don’t really like having an audience,”

You wiggled your eyebrows, painting a charming smile back on your face, even though it took too much effort. “And you assumed I’d jump you?”

It was slightly alarming how easily you locked your emotions away. How you could pretend like there wasn’t something bothering you when it had been so obvious just seconds before? 

It set off red flags in her brain because a talent like that wasn’t inherent. It was learned. 

“No,” She shook her head, deciding not to comment on how easily you flipped that switch. “I just knew how much I missed you,” 

Your mask fell slightly. “I missed you too,” 

You meant it. Being away from Taylor was harder than your pride would let you admit. 

You had never been so… taken with someone. So addicted to them. But she made you feel seen and safe. It made you want to spend every second with her, wrapped around her. 

“Can I take you to dinner?” She asked, squeezing your knee. 

You shrugged. “I have to go back to the team hotel first to do cool down and check-in,” 

“I can pick you up afterward,” Taylor suggested. 

“That sounds agreeable,” You nodded, your lips twisting into a devilish smirk. “But what are we going to do in the,” You looked at the time on your phone. “25 minutes we have before the bus leaves?”

Taylor matched your smirk, catching the front of your shirt and pulling you closer. “I can think of a few things,” 

OoOoOoO

March 2017

I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance  Oh, through an avalanche?

You didn’t particularly enjoy fancy restaurants. You didn’t particularly like most restaurants to begin with, but ones with a dress code always made you uncomfortable. Their menus always had a small font, and the white tablecloths never stayed white. 

The stuffy atmosphere usually lent itself to stuffy conversations, and it reminded you too much of business lunches or dinners with your parents to ever really enjoy yourself. 

You had learned over the years that your opinion didn’t really matter. That everything wasn’t about you. So you were fairly adept at painting a charming smile on and acting normal. 

It has worked for most of the night with your sisters and Kelley anyway. 

It was easy when Jen and Jerri were gushing over the new diamond ring on Alex’s finger. When they kept asking for every little detail of how Kelley proposed on top of the Empire State Building. 

And you played along, never speaking directly to Alex, but not being weird enough that anyone would notice.  You wouldn’t ruin this for her, or for Kelley. 

“You alright over there space cadet?” Jerri asked, nudging your shoulder and pulling your brain from where you were trying to decipher the tiny writing on the menu. 

You blinked up at the four women, realizing that they (and the waiter) were staring expectantly at you. “What?”

“Kell asked if you were ready to order,” Jen supplied patiently. 

You were just grateful that no one giggled, but you blushed anyway. 

You tried to cover it by snapping your menu closed. “Oh, yeah,”

Kelley blinked at you, gesturing towards the waitress. “What are you going to order?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks travel up to your ears, but still, you tried to play it off. “Oh, you guys can go first,”

Jerri shook her head, placing her hand gently on your arm. “We already have sweetheart,”

You frowned, squinting down at your closed menu. You had missed them ordering, and now you didn’t have time to try and decipher the hieroglyphic font the restaurant had chosen. Not that you would have been able to. 

The letters tended to go more haywire when you were stressed, and you would be damned before you asked someone to help you. Your jaw worked as you thought of what to say.  What could you say?

“You love chicken parm, and I heard it’s good here,” Alex said casually like it was normal to suggest food items after everyone else had already ordered. “or they have a very good salmon in pink sauce if you’re feeling something lighter,” 

Your eyes darted to her for the first time since you had sat down at the stable, and your jaw hung open. 

Alex intervening so seamlessly when you were struggling wasn’t something that had happened since she moved to Berkeley (you couldn’t help how you sneered the word in your head). 

Jerri nudged you again, and you cleared your throat, your eyes still glued to Alex. 

 “The salmon sounds good actually,” You mumbled, finally getting your voice to work. 

The waitress hummed, and you heard her little ticket book close. “I’ll go put that in,” 

You were sure that Kelley or Jen responded to the girl, but you didn’t look away from Alex. 

It was just so…not Alex of her. For her to have options ready and waiting meant that she had to have thought that you might have trouble. She had to have consciously decided to look for options that you would like too, and to have more than one so you actually got to choose. 

It meant that she cared. 

You swallowed very hard. That thought was too overwhelming. 

Now, at the dinner, after she just got engaged was not the time to contemplate if Alex even had the capability to care about you. It would again make the evening about you when it most certainly was not. 

You could feel the eyes of Kelley and your sisters, despite the way they restarted their conversation. It was like they were watching a car crash or a roller coaster derail. 

You felt like a spectacle. Like you were drawing attention when you absolutely should not be. It had alarm bells ringing in your ears. 

What would your parents say when they heard you had ruined your sister’s engagement dinner? 

It was like the walls were closing in, as the conversation at the table blended with the noise from the restaurant around you. It was suffocating. 

You didn’t think before you pushed yourself to your feet, nearly knocking over the chair behind you. 

“I’m gonna take a bathroom break,” You said, turning on your heel without waiting for a response, not that you would have registered it through the pounding in your ears. 

You needed to get away. 

To leave. 

To put space between you and this version of Alex that somehow gave a fuck about you. 

You bypassed the hallway that led to the restroom, knowing that someone would eventually find you there. You turned right, brushing past the hostess and out the glass doors into the city. 

The chilly air hit you like a gasping breath after being underwater for too long. Like water after a practice in Houston in July. 

You paused just outside the crystal doors, filling your lungs like you had been drowning. 

You knew you couldn’t stand there forever, blocking the entrance to Osteria Carlina, so you headed left, in the direction of your favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place between Canal and Broadway. 

You didn't plan to eat there, but you thought that maybe the walk would help you clear your head, and you could be back in time to eat your overpriced salmon. Something about the smell of fresh sauce and baked cheese always made your thoughts clearer. 

It reminded you of when you were tiny and Alex would take you for pizza after your u6 games. It reminded you of riding on her shoulders on top of the world, even if none of the goals actually mattered. 

Even if you lost. 

You just needed a minute to not think, so you could go back and pretend like everything was fine. Like you didn’t feel entirely out of place with your sisters and Kelley. And you knew that the sounds of the city and the familiar comfort would do that. 

You could already feel your airway opening, but you reached up and undid the top two buttons of your shirt anyway as though it would help. It was all in your head anyway. 

It was always all in your head. 

You ran a hand through your hair, your nose scrunching involuntarily at the sticky gel you had used to keep your curls in place. You had forgotten your normal wax in Chicago, and the CVS near your hotel wanted 15$ for it. 

You wanted to look nice for Alex and Kelley, but 15$ wax was not in your budget. Still, you couldn’t not do anything with your hair. Wild curls would draw attention to you, and you couldn’t do that. 

You couldn’t make this night about you and ruin it for them. 

God, you probably already had. 

“If you’re going to ditch us can you please slow down? It’s the least you could do,”

Your heart stopped at Alex’s voice, and your feet paused before you consciously decided to listen. You had to swallow down a groan. 

Of course, she had come after you. 

It was such an Alex thing to do. 

You ran another hand through your hair and turned to face her. “What are you doing?”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she finally caught up with you. “I’m making sure you’re okay,”

She said it like it was obvious. Like it was normal. Like she wasn’t sure why you would ask. 

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, your hand dragging through your curls to the back of your neck. “Go back to dinner and I’ll rejoin you in a bit,”

Her eyebrow arched. “I think running out of the restaurant constitutes just about anything other than fine,”

You couldn’t help how your nose scrunched.

This was the part of your relationship that you had forgotten about. The one that had been masked by annoying persistence since she moved out for college. 

The one where she actually cared enough to force you to admit when something was wrong. 

She was pushing you, but it didn’t feel like it was for her benefit. It was for you. 

Your hand fell. “I just needed some air,” Your voice came out horse, strained. 

Alex hummed, stepping closer to you. “You got overwhelmed.”

It was a statement, not a question, and it struck you how well she knew you, even though the two of you hadn’t had a real conversation in nearly a decade. 

You stared at her, trying to understand her game. Trying to figure out why she was pretending to care. Trying to dissect how this would benefit her and her perfect image. 

“What do you want from me?” You were thrown off by how small you sounded. How young and… terrified the words that left your lips were. 

Alex caught your arm pulling you into her, closing the little space left between you. “I want you to talk to me,” 

“No,” You instantly pulled away from her, tangling your fingers in your messy curls yet again. “I will not be a distraction,”

“What?” Her eyebrows pulled more tightly together. 

Your fingers caught in a curl at the back of your head, the one that always seemed to tangle no matter what you did. You harshly tugged at it, the little pinpricks of pain helping you stay grounded. 

Except this time it didn't help. 

It didn’t give you enough to focus on to crack some smart-ass remark or shove your feelings into a tiny box. 

It was too much. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been,” The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, like blood gushing from an open wound that you had tried and failed to stitch together too many times before. 

Alex softened, and she took a step towards you, gently catching your arm and pulling it towards her, effectively stopping your from ripping your hair out. 

“Monkey,” She said softly. 

You jerked away, like a wounded animal. You would not let her pretend that she didn’t think that. That she didn’t hate how you followed after her when you were young, that she didn’t despise how you distracted from her.  

“No! I heard you. I’m just the spare Morgan chasing after you, taking people’s attention off of you, and joining in uninvited on your opportunities. This will not be like that. I won’t fuck this up for you. You need to go back, and I’ll be there in a few minutes,” 

The words forced themselves out of your lips like they had been waiting to leave for forever. They broke you apart as you choked trying to hold in your emotions. As you fought to close the lid back on Pandora’s box. 

Alex caught you again, pulling you into her, and you quaked against her chest, sucking in strangled breaths. Her arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tightly, just like she did when you were little after a busy trip to the mall when the crowds had made your tummy flutter. 

You didn’t fight her, instead burying your face in her neck, curling into her like you hadn’t since she left for college. 

She held you like the two of you had all the time in the world. Like you weren't on a random sidewalk with random people walking around you. 

She didn’t pull back until your trembling had slowed and your breathing had evened out, and she very gently ran her thumb under your eyes. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked when your eyes met her identical blue. 

“You said it,” You mumbled, sniffing lightly. 

Alex’s eyes scrunched and a crinkle appeared between them. “When?” 

 “I was trying to surprise you at Berkley. Mom thought I had practice, and I took the bus. I heard you,” You said, your eyes closing as that day played back through your head. 

It had taken some serious convincing from Jen that Alex missed you, and that she was desperate to see you since you had gone radio silent on her. You had been so excited as you waited near the Berkeley bleachers for their practice to finish. 

She had been walking with one of her teammates, and they were talking about someone Coach McGuire was going to invite to practice. 

“It just makes no sense, why would he extend that kind of an offer to a kid?”  The girl you didn’t recognize said, nudging your sister as they stepped off the field. “Like fuck, it has to suck to always have your younger sister getting opportunities off of your hard work,” 

Alex hummed, shifting her bag over her shoulder, and you moved to be more hidden under the bleachers. 

The little sound was like a knife in your chest, deflating the balloon of excitement that had been there since you snuck out this morning. 

Alex didn’t want to see you. She thought you were getting things off of her hard work.

“Don’t they understand that you want something that’s yours?” The girl continued, and you bit down hard on your lip to stop the tears from leaking down your cheeks. “You should have to deal with her being a distraction from your greatness,” 

You would never cry for Alex again. 

You shook your head and refocused on Alex in front of you, shoving away the cracking feeling in your stomach. 

“Go back to your dinner. I’ll be there in a bit,” You said, forcing your voice steady. Emotionless. In control. “I promise Alex. I just needed some air,” 

“No,” Alex said sternly, her arm tightening around you so you couldn’t pull away.  “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down on me. I'm not going anywhere,”

You blinked at her, fighting to swallow the warmth that spread through you. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be honest about this. 

You had already resolved that she didn’t actually care about you. That she loathed the responsibility of you from when you were younger. You couldn’t wrap your head around anything else. 

And before you could stop it the strangled “Why?” Fell from your lips. 

She chuckled, running her thumb under your eyes again and wiping away the tears that would not stop. “Because I fucking love you, and I can’t read your fucking mind, no matter how many times I told you I could when you were little,” 

You knew the comment was meant to draw a chuckle or a smile, but it didn’t. 

Alex ducked her head when you tried to look away, not letting you break eye contact. Not letting you bury your emotions and draw back into yourself. Making sure you heard her. “I want to fix our relationship. I’ve wanted to fix it since you stopped talking to me when I moved out. I don’t understand what happened, even though I probably should, and I can’t if you don’t tell me,” 

You sniffled, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her touch as her thumb ran circles under your eyes, clearing away the tears as they continued to fall. It warmed your cheeks, and traveled down to your tummy. It made you feel… safe. Something you hadn’t really felt that way (aside from when you were with Taylor) since you were 12. 

The two of you stood like that for a long minute, stuck in your own bubble, uncaring of the crowds rushing around you. 

It took you another moment to realize Alex’s eyebrow was raised, and that she was looking at you like she always had when she expected a response. 

You swallowed hard. “Ok,” 

The word was simple but held a weight not lost on either of you. What you were agreeing to wasn’t lost, and neither was the vulnerability it took to let it out. 

Alex’s head tilted, a smile tugging at her lips. “Ok.” 

You nodded, finally pulling yourself out of her grasp and wiping your face with your arm. “I’ll try. Old habits die hard,”

“I know,” Alex hummed, and you knew she was saying more.

She was saying that she knew how hard it was for you to voice your feelings sometimes. How difficult it was for you to be open. 

She was saying that she knew you. 

And it had a warm feeling filtering deep in your tummy. 

You looked away, clearing your throat. “We should go back. It’s your night and you should get to enjoy it,”

Alex sighed.“ This doesn’t change my ability to enjoy my night. If you need more time, we have plenty,”

Your shoulders rolled, and your back straightened.  Your fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

It was something Alex had seen a million times. The way you pieced yourself back together, even when you didn’t necessarily have to. Even when you weren’t ready to. 

It was unsettling, how little this part of you had changed. 

“The only bad thing about the city lights is that you can’t see the stars,” She said, watching how the abrupt change in subject took an immediate effect. 

You blinked at her, your eyes instinctively glancing upward towards the sky, and your shoulders relaxing. 

Bingo she thought. 

You might not have had a conversation with her in years, but she still knew you. And your obsession with astronomy… well more like your obsession with Greek mythology and stars… hadn’t changed. 

You hadn’t changed all that much. Well, most of you, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise. 

“Canis Minor is there,” You mumbled, pointing up at the sky barely visible surrounded by the neon lights of the city. “And Vela and Volans are there. It’s hard, but you can make them out,”

She hummed, not at all surprised that you could pick out the constellations even when you could only see a small part of them. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was how you relaxed. 

You looked back towards her, your hand dropping as you let out a shaky breath.  

“Let’s go back,” You said. “I don’t want your food to get cold,” 

Alex nodded. “As long as you’re ready,” 

You made a low sound in the back of your throat and turned back towards the restaurant. “Let’s go,” 

She signed, reminding herself that everything wouldn’t be fixed in a day. You wouldn’t be fixed in a day. It would take baby steps, and you had given her more today than you had in years. 

“Ok,” She agreed, letting you lead her back towards the restaurant, and your family. 

*****

“You sure you don’t want a ride kid?” Kelley asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

You nodded, forcing a smile across your lips. “Oh yeah, I’m good,” 

The end of dinner had actually been nice. 

No one had said a thing when you and Alex returned to the table, just before your food arrived. The conversation had been light, focused on the proposal, and no one had tried to force you to join in. 

They hadn’t even batted an eyelash when you pulled out your phone to text your girlfriend about where you would be sleeping, and made eye contact with the two men who had taken up a table in the back corner of the restaurant.

Desert had been… almost pain-free, which set you on edge. 

Nothing in your family came without a cost, and you wondered what it would be. Especially since Alex had come after you. 

But everyone said their goodbyes and headed to their cars with very little fanfare. 

All except for Kelley who was worried when you lingered near the entrance of the restaurant. 

“You don’t have to stand here with me,” you said, glancing down the street, looking for the familiar black Escalade you assumed Taylor would be sending to retrieve you. You figured Tony was driving, since he had disappeared, leaving Zach to linger a few feet away from you. “I'm just waiting for my Uber,”

Kelley made a low noise. “And while I’m sure your new mob friends could take care of you, Alex would kill me if I left you here without knowing your plan,” 

You blew out a breath, a strange warmth in your stomach at the thought that Alex would care. “My ride should be just around the corner. You can go, and I’ll be fine,” 

It didn’t even bug you that Emily had apparently convinced her you were in the mob too. 

“Burrito girl?” She asked, her features softening. 

You nodded, glancing sideways toward where Alex was standing. “Satisfied now?”

You weren’t ready for your older sister to know yet. You weren’t ready to hear about how you weren’t mature enough. Or how your reputation would impact your relationship. 

You didn’t want to be lectured about how much older Taylor was. 

Kelley wiggled her eyebrows as a black Escalade pulled around the corner. “Very,”

“You’re far too smug about this,” You huffed, again glancing towards your sister, who still seemed oblivious to your conversation. 

Kelley followed your eyes, and her smirk softened. “You know she wouldn’t be upset that you’re seeing someone right? She just wants you to be happy,” 

“I know,” You mumbled, feeling the kid you had forced over your emotions rattle in your chest. You had already been too vulnerable tonight. “I just… I’m still figuring it all out, and I don’t want the pressure yet,” 

Kelley made a low noise of agreement in the back of her throat. Like she wanted to argue with you, but knew you weren’t in a place to listen.

You wondered how much she knew about your earlier moment with Alex. How she knew so well not to push. 

The black Escalade came to a smooth stop in front of you, and Zach stepped up from behind you to stand near the rear passenger door. 

You appreciated that he didn’t say anything. 

“Tell your burrito mob boss hello,” Kelley said, patting your back. “And I’ll take care of your sister,” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly at her before Zach opened the door for you and you slid into the backseat of the car. 

Zach closed the door behind you and was in the passenger seat before you could think too hard about what Kelley had said. 

“To Taylor’s apartment?” Tony asked you, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “Or did you want to make a pitstop first?”

You blinked at him, not expecting to have a choice in where he was taking you. You figured Taylor had given him instructions already. That he would do whatever she told him to because she was the one paying his (probably incomprehensibly expensive) salary. 

You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Taylor’s apartment is fine, thanks,”

“No problem kid,” He winked, his eyes returning to the street ahead of him. 

Zach reached forward and flicked the radio, letting quiet pop fill the car, and you relaxed back into the leather seats. 

It was weird. This was weird. You felt so… off balance after your moment with Alex. It made you feel so vulnerable. 

You needed to get rid of the raw feeling in your chest. You needed control. 

You swallowed hard and looked out the window as the lights of the city passed. 

*****

One thing you absolutely loved about Taylor’s apartment was that it was always stocked with sweets. And since you had started dating, your favorites seemed to appear alongside the treats that she enjoyed. 

“How was dinner?” She asked you, passing you the container of chocolate frosting as you sat on her kitchen counter. 

She was dressed in short shorts and an old Philadelphia Eagles shirt, her feet bare. She was relaxed and comfortable. Which felt like a stark contrast to needles prickling in your stomach. The pins tingling the back of your neck. 

She had been waiting for you near the elevator when the SUV pulled into her private garage, and she welcomed you with a hug that was so… warm that it almost made you forget how raw you felt. 

She held you as you ascended to her apartment, and all the way into her kitchen, asking if you were up for a bit of dessert. 

You were surprised she hadn’t immediately tried to get you to talk about dinner with your sisters and Kelley. That she didn’t pry into it the second she had the chance like Mal would have. 

Now you found that you didn’t mind the question. 

“Fine,” You shrugged, sticking a spoon in the frosting and twisting it around, lifting it to examine the scoop you had made. “They mostly gushed over the ring Kelley picked, and how romantic it was to propose on the Empire State Building,”

You licked your spoon, pulling it into your mouth, and your eyes closed at the taste. 

It was silky and smooth, much better than the cheap frosting you always brought. 

“You don’t think it’s gush-worthy?” Taylor asked when your eyes fluttered back open. 

You paused, thinking about it for a long second as you got another scoop of frosting. 

You actually thought Kelley’s proposal was sweet. It combined some of your sister’s favorite things and one of her favorite places. It made sense. 

But it was so cliché.

 “For Alex it is,” You shrugged, sticking the spoon in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the ridges to get all of the delicious chocolate. 

Taylor hummed, stepping up between your legs, her hands running gently over the dark denim of our jeans. “But it’s not what you would want?”

You shook your head, scooping a bit more frosting on your spoon. 

“I think I’d want something more creative,” You said, your lips quirked up, as you held the spoon out for her. “You know, like under the Eiffel Tower,”

“So original,” She rolled her eyes, letting you slip the spoon past her lips.

Sharing food with her was a habit you had picked up. Something that settled the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that she was too skinny. That there was something… wrong with her relationship to food. 

Her fingers tightened around your thighs and you tilted the spoon up and her chin tilted to follow, exposing the long lines of her neck. You traced them with your eyes, swallowing hard. 

It had want bubbling in your stomach alongside the needles. It had you leaning into where you knew this evening was heading. Into the coping mechanism that hadn’t failed you yet, even though you so desperately wanted things with Taylor to be different. 

But maybe tonight they didn’t have to be. 

You hummed, pulling the spoon away. 

She let her tongue trail along it, her eyes fluttering open to make eye contact with you. “That’s good,”

“You bought it, so I would hope you like it,”

You dipped the spoon back into the container, pulling up a glob of frosting and bringing it to your lips. 

She watched you intently, waiting for the spoon to leave your mouth with a little pop before very slowly leaning in. It gave you enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to. 

You needed this. To feel in control. 

You leaned forward, connecting your lips in a languid kiss. Her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened your mouth to grant her access. 

It carefully explored around your mouth, dancing with your tongue in a slow waltz, licking the residual frosting from every surface it touched. 

She let out a low noise in the back of her throat as she pulled away. “That one tasted better,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, dropping the spoon back into the container. “Did it now?” 

“It did,” She nodded, her thumbs running up and down your thighs. 

You leaned forward, connecting your lips again and slowly sliding off the counter. Your hands landed heavily on her hips and her arms draped across your shoulders, pulling you closer, her fingers playing with the baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

It was easy for you to snatch control of the kiss, Taylor gave it to you willingly. 

It should have smoothed over the frayed edges of your nerves. It should have quieted your thoughts and made you more present. 

Instead, you slipped farther into your head. 

You replayed the feelings of Alex’s hand in your hair, the weight of her arm around you. How you had made a promise you weren’t sure you really wanted to keep. 

Your lips never left her as she took a step back towards the hallway that led to her room, and you slipped your fingers under the hem of her shirt, skating along the waistband of her shorts.

You loved the smooth skin there, and the goosebumps that trailed after your light touch. They distracted you so much that you didn’t notice her turning down the hallway until you were stumbling over your feet to keep up. 

Her lips tilted into a smirk as she used her newfound leverage to switch your position. 

Your back hit the wall with a low thump. Her lips reattached to yours, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your skull, and the other cupped your chin as she pressed you into the wall, her thigh landing heavily between your legs. 

It was more demanding, more needy, more in control. 

It jarred you out of your head. Out of the rabbit hole of how being honest with Alex would help you link the back line to the front line better. Of how it would allow more line breaking balls through towards the edge where your sister always danced to stay onside. 

“You didn’t think I was a pillow princess did you?” She asked, winking at your surprised eyes. 

You let out a sigh at the pressure against your core, doing everything in your power to prevent your hips from pulling back when she rocked against you. 

This you weren’t used to. This you had never done with anyone besides Mal. 

You sucked in a breath through your nose, deciding to focus on the things that you enjoyed. You leaned into the kiss. 

You liked the way her tongue explored your mouth. You liked how her fingers twitched against your jaw before they made their way to your collar. 

Your head tilted to give her more room as she began trailing warm, wet kisses down your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine when she hit the spot just below your right ear, and you let out another low sigh. She echoed the sound, her fingers deft as they undid the first button of your shirt. 

She let the blunt nail of her pointer finger graze your collarbone, trailing after her as she moved to the next button, leaving flames in its wake. 

Goosebumps erupted on the newly exposed skin, and you felt her smirk against your neck. 

Her long fingers splayed across your abs, tapping out a rhythm you couldn’t define. 

“Do you know how amazing these are?” She asked, her warm breath hitting the damp skin of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine as her fingers tapped you a bit harder. “I think about them all the time. It’s not fair that I’ve only gotten glimpses of them, especially with how much you show them off,”

“You were a bit distracted,” You smirked, projecting confidence that you didn’t feel, your fingers closing around her hips, trying to maintain a sliver of control. 

She flexed her thigh again to prevent you from flipping your positions though. 

“Hmm,” She hummed, a devilish smile cracking across her lips as she dropped to her knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you splayed your hands on the wall behind you, trying to hide how much they were shaking. 

You didn’t know how to handle this. How to do this. 

“Well I’m not distracted now, and I’m going to give them the attention they deserve,” She said, her hands moving the edges of your shirt out of the way. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you now?” 

Your voice barely wobbled as you spoke, and you took it as a win. 

“I am,” she nodded, determination glinting in her eyes. She leaned forward, placing an open mouth kiss on the abb right above your left hip. Her tongue followed the ridge of the muscle to the other side. 

you bit your bottom lip and allowed your head to fall back against the wall with a low thump. 

You liked this touch. More than any touch you had ever had before. You had never let anyone get this far before, not even Mal really. 

Things had been quick with her, like touching you was an unpleasant chore. One neither of you had ever been fond of. 

This. This was different. 

Taylor took her time, lavishing each individual muscle as her warm mouth traveled around your stomach. A chill trailed after her lips, the air landing on your wet skin sending goosebumps across your flesh, stoking a foreign fire in your belly that was almost enough to quiet the growing dread. 

Almost. 

She made her way up your stomach, placing a line of kisses up your chest and collarbone before she again landed on the special spot on your neck. 

“Let’s get you out of these pants,” 

You sucked in a harsh breath through your nose, forcing yourself to remain relaxed. You tried to enjoy the feeling of her hands tracing the residue left on your stomach. Tried to focus on the softness of her lips on your neck and the scent of her perfume. 

Tried to let it drive away ghosts of calloused fingers and gruff voices. 

It almost worked. 

Then her thumb flicked open the button of your jeans, and you couldn’t temper your reaction. You couldn’t quell the growing anxiety in your chest. You froze, every muscle in your body going rigid for a split second before you could force them to relax again. 

You hoped that Taylor wouldn’t notice, but she did. 

“Y/n?” She said softly as she pulled back, her hands retreating from their position at your waist to cup your cheek, and her leg falling from between yours. 

Your eyes slowly fluttered open and met very worried blue. You could see the questions forming. The concern dripped from her form. 

But you knew you couldn’t answer.  You weren’t ready to unlock Pandora's box yet. Not when you knew you would never be able to shut it again. You only knew one way to stop her from asking. One way to regain control. 

You surged forward, your hands on her hips giving you the leverage to push her back against the wall opposite of you. Your mouth landed hot against her neck, lavishing the soft skin with open-mouthed kisses, and your thigh slotted between her legs pressing into her core with the perfect amount of pressure to distract her. 

“I’m ok,” You muttered hotly into her ear, pressing more firmly into her center. “Let me make you feel good,” 

She sucked in a breath, her hips stuttering like they wanted to grind against you, but she wouldn’t let them. 

You dragged your tongue down her neck, letting your teeth just barely graze her sensitive skin, and rocked your hips. Your thumbs scared along the sliver of skin just above her shorts trying to convince her to just go with it. 

To let her let you distract her. 

You thought for a second that it had worked, as a low groan left her lips. You thought that maybe you had… derailed her enough to forget about your momentary lapse in the hold you had on your emotions.  But just as you went to slip your hand into her pants she stopped you. 

Her palm pressed firmly into your chest, insistent until you pulled away enough to make eye contact with her. 

“I want us to both feel good,” she said sternly. 

You swallowed at the comment, fighting to keep your face neutral. 

“Making you feel good will make me feel good,”  You said, trying to lean back in, but the hand on your chest stopped you. 

“Y/n you tensed,” She said, her blue eyes burning into yours, looking for answers, the charge between you melting away. 

You sighed as you pulled away from her until your back hit the wall opposite of her. You ran a hand through your messy curls and glared up at her ceiling, unable to look at her. 

You were afraid that if you did, she would be able to read your mind. She would see the… brokenness you fought so hard to hide.  But you had never been able to hide from Taylor. 

Even before you were dating, you had let her closer to you than anyone had ever gotten before. She was scarily perceptive and had been able to read you from the beginning of your friendship even better than Mal could (and that was saying something). Her abilities only seemed to get more acute as you got closer. 

This was the only area she hadn’t seemed to pick up on. 

You let yourself slide down the wall, your eyes closing as you sucked in another breath.  You still felt so raw from your talk with Alex. Too… vulnerable. Like opening up again would finally crack your chest in half. 

“I’m,” You started and stopped, unsure of what you were actually going to say. “I’m not good at receiving,”

You settled on the phrase, drawing up the courage to finally open your eyes, pulling your knees close to your chest and resting your chin on them. 

You were surprised that Taylor had slid down her own wall so she was sitting across from you and mirroring your posture. 

She made a low sound in the back of her throat, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not good at it?” 

There was no judgment in her voice. None of the disgust you expected. 

“I can’t ever get out of my head enough to… enjoy it I guess,” You cleared your throat and looked away from her, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “No one’s ever noticed before”

It was a semi-truth. In your slew of hookups, no one had ever cared. No one had pushed back when you stopped them. No one had ever not let you distract them. 

But then again, Taylor was nothing like your hookups. 

You actually had feelings for her that stretched beyond self-loathing and the need to be in control of something. To be good enough. There was nothing quite like the rush that came from making a beautiful woman fall apart under you. It was irrefutable evidence that you were capable. 

Taylor’s eyes tightened. It physically hurt her that none of your past partners (if she could call them that) had cared enough beyond their own needs to see the obvious. And that you were willing to bypass your own comfort so someone else could feel good. 

She wanted to kick herself for not noticing that something was wrong sooner. 

“You’ve never talked through limits or likes and dislikes with any of the people you’ve slept with?”

You ran another hand through your hair (making it impossibly more messy) and let out a very long breath. 

You shrugged. “We were never doing anything beyond vanilla and it never progressed past a few one-sided orgasms,”

You had never let any of them touch you. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten undressed for most of them. The thought of doing anything… kinky sent a shiver down your spine so you hadn’t. It was just easier to keep distance from the people you slept with. It was safer that way. 

Taylor shifted, very slowly scooting towards you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your foot like she thought you would freak out if she moved too fast. 

“Well, I think there’s a need now,” Taylor said, watching your every movement. 

Your eyes were scarily hollow, accented by the red that rimmed them from the time you had made it to her apartment. She had wanted to ask about it. Pushed just a little to find out if you had been crying, and why. But you didn’t seem to want to talk about it. 

You had pivoted to sex almost as soon as she tried to bring it up. It sent red flags up in her mind. Red flags that only got brighter. 

She couldn’t help but replay every interaction the two of you had had in her mind. There would be time to agonize over every little detail later, but even now, your… reluctance to undress, or allow her to touch you was glaringly obvious. How the moment she flipped your typical script, you couldn’t hide it anymore. 

She was slightly ashamed she hadn’t noticed it before. That she had ignored the signs of your discomfort, even if they were well masked. 

Have you ever wanted to have sex? Had she put you in a position where you didn’t feel like you could refuse? 

She never wanted you to feel forced, whether that was about talking about how you were feeling or having sex. She wanted you to feel comfortable enough to tell her when you weren’t ok with something. 

Your nose dipped behind your thighs, your forehead pressed into your knees, and you squeezed your arms more tightly around them like you were literally trying to hold yourself together. 

Her heart broke a little more at the barely audible “ok” that left your lips. 

She scooted closer to you, her hand carefully drawing up your shin and weaving in your curls. Her nails scratched gently on your scalp, and you practically melted. 

Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a long breath before you shifted to look up at her, your chin balanced on your knees. 

She brushed a curl from in front of your eyes. “When did you start to feel uncomfortable?”

You scrunched your nose. It was a hard question. 

 You weren’t sure how you were supposed to explain that your mind went to soccer as soon as anything remotely intimate started. How were you supposed to explain that you were just defective? 

But maybe you didn’t have to. 

She didn’t ask you that. All she asked was when you started to feel uncomfortable, and that answer was easy.

It was the moment your back hit the wall. The moment you were jarred out of the safe space in your head.

The moment she forced you to be present, unlike every other girl you had ever been with.  

But you weren’t entirely uncomfortable. Maybe at the start, but you had enjoyed parts of being with her. You wanted to enjoy being with her.  But you were just… incapable. Defectives 

You settled for a shrug, curling tighter into yourself. You didn’t want her to see how… fucked up you were. It would only push her away.

That’s what pushed Mal away.  And Alex. And your parents. 

You would never be good enough, and you had just wanted to pretend as long as you could. You weren’t ready to lose Taylor yet. 

“Ok. It’s ok,” Taylor’s voice was gentle, and her hand trailed to tangle in the baby curls at the back of your neck. “Let’s try something else. Can you tell me what you liked?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “This time?” 

“Any of the times,” She said soothingly, her fingers never stopping their gentle scratches at the back of your neck. 

You closed your eyes, leaning back into her hand. “I like it when you do this,” 

She hummed, and you could hear a smile in it. “Anything else?”

“I like kissing you,” You mumbled, feeling the red flair in your cheeks. 

Her lips always tasted like coffee, and something so… Taylor. They were addictive in the best way. 

“And I like holding you,” You added. There was something comforting about having her in your arms. Something that made you feel safe. “And I like it when you hold me,” 

“But the rest?”  She asked you gently. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You did what was expected of you. What you knew worked. 

You went with the flow just like Emily told you too, and then had been too caught in your head to savor the moment. To take in all of the little details that you wanted to remember. No matter how hard you fought, you just… couldn’t. 

You quite liked touching her too, but you knew there was something wrong with your inability to remain in the moment when you did. You knew that she deserved for you to be present. 

“I’m just not good at receiving,” You repeated, misery leaking into your tone. 

It was the only response you could come up with. The only explanation that remotely made sense. This was when she would realize you were… defective. This was when she would leave. But she didn’t. 

She gently squeezed the back of your neck. A silent request for you to look at her and a comforting touch that told you that it was ok. It took you a second to gain the courage to look up, but when you did, you didn’t see the disgust you expected. 

Her eyes were soft, sad, and they held another emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I like holding and kissing you too,”

She shifted a little closer to you, so her knee was touching yours. “And I’ll hold and kiss you for as long as you’ll let me, at whatever pace makes you feel comfortable,” 

You made a low noise. 

It was strange. Conceptually, you could understand what she was saying, but you had never been with someone who didn’t judge you based on your ability to give them an orgasm. You wondered how long her patience would last. How long would she stay when she realized how deeply you were fucked up. 

“How about we go cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” She asked, squeezing the back of your neck gently. 

Your nose scrunched as she pulled away, pushing herself to her feet and holding her hand out to you. “You know I don’t like movies,” 

You didn’t have the attention span for them, and you would inevitably get bored halfway through. 

She hummed, wiggling her fingers so you would take her hand. “How about survivor then?” 

Your tension melted at the mention of your favorite show, and your easy smile returned to your features.

“Yes! We have to watch Heroes vs Villains so you can see Russel at his finest,” You said, allowing her to pull you into her side.

“Whatever you want sunshine,” She kissed your forehead and guided you back towards her living room. 

It felt like going to her bedroom was too much, too fast. She didn’t want you to think she had some… expectations despite the clear signs that you were not ready to progress past cuddling. Not while you would so easily compromise your limits. 

Not while your limits still felt so unclear. 

She knew that it would take time to work through that, and she was willing to wait and help you for as long as it took. 

*****

Soft morning light filtered into your consciousness, waking you gently. You breathed in deeply, shifting on a bed that you knew wasn’t yours. 

It smelled like lilacs and Taylor’s perfume, sweet and inviting and safe. You could hear soft music from somewhere else in the apartment and felt cool sheets next to you. 

You frowned, pushing yourself to a sitting position with a yawn. It was rare you woke up after Taylor. That you slept in in general. 

But it shouldn’t have surprised you with what had happened last night. Sure, the two of you had fallen asleep together just after Pavarti and Russel had schemed to take down the Hero’s tribe during the merge. Taylor held you just like she promised, but you should have known it wouldn’t last. 

A good nights sleep had opened her eyes. She had reflected and decided you were too… broken to be worth it. 

“Fuck,” You mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the palms of your hands. 

You should have stopped her before she got to your pants. You should have been more subtle and slipped your position instead of tensing. 

You should have been prepared to lose hold on the iron box that held your emotions. You should have had more control. 

But you didn’t, and now you were most likely going to lose your girlfriend. 

She would break up with you in the sweetest way possible. She would say that it was her. That she was the problem, and you would accept that. 

You would nod along, and make it easy for her.  Just like you had with Mal when she told you that Dansby was her soulmate. That he was so good and perfect. 

You dragged your hands up your face, and into your hair, ruffling your messy curls as you pushed yourself out of bed.  There was no point in drawing this out longer than it needed to be.  

You stretched, pulling your shirt down over your boxers as you padded out of Taylor’s room towards the sound of the music. You could also make out soft voices as you got closer. Your eyebrows furrowed. Who was Taylor talking to? 

You peeked your head around the corner, your frown deepening when you saw a redhead sitting at the island across from Taylor, a large stack of papers sitting to the right of her, drinking a cup of coffee and humming to a song you had never heard before. 

Why was she here? 

Taylor turned from the stove, catching sight of you before you could hide back behind the wall. “Hey babe, good morning,” She said brightly, smiling widely at you. 

“Morning,” You said slowly, stepping out from behind the hallway wall. 

She gestured to the woman across from her. “This is Tree,”

“Hello,” You waved awkwardly at the redhead. 

“She just swang by to hear a bit of the new album,” Taylor explained easily, turning back towards the cabinets. “Do you want some coffee?”

Tree smiled brilliantly at you, showing off perfectly white teeth in a way that surprisingly didn’t feel forced. 

But you could sense the lie in Taylor’s explanation of why her publicist was there. Of why the woman who handled all of Taylor’s outward appearances appeared with a massive contract right after you had shown her how defective you were? 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said, pushing out the stool next to her, a clear invitation to sit. 

You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and dragged a hand through your hair. 

Neither of them seemed… angry. Or like they were plotting the fastest way to get you out of the apartment. But you didn’t trust it. All of your instincts told you not to. 

“Nice to meet you too,” You said slowly, stepping towards the stool and gesturing to the stack of papers. “Listen, I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign. Can I just take a shower before you kick me out?”

“What?” Taylor and Tree said in unison, Taylor nearly dropping the mug she was holding and Tree’s eyes tightening. 

“I just hate to put on clean clothes without showering,” You scratched more insistently at the back of your neck, your fingers tangling in the tight curls at the base of your skull. “And Alex and Kelley would think it’s weird if I show up to their house in what I wore last night, and I won’t be able to accurately answer their questions,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together and she set the mug down, stepping closer to the island. “Y/n, slow down,” 

You ignored her. You knew you were rambling at this point but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I promise I’ll be in and out in like 5 minutes. I won’t even do my hair,” 

“Y/n stop,” Taylor moved around the island, catching your hand as it began to tug at the roots of your curls.

“What are you talking about?” She asked you softly, ducking to catch your eye. 

“You’re going to break up with me because of what happened,” You rushed out, catching her frown and immediately backtracking. “Which is totally fine. I understand that you want someone… with less baggage. I just want to take a shower before you make me leave,”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” 

You blinked at her.  What was that supposed to mean? 

Was she going to make you do it so she could be the good guy? Was her publicist there to witness it so they could write a story about it? 

“Do you want me to break up with you then?” You asked, softly. You hated the fragility in your voice. 

Taylor’s head cocked to the side and she raised an eyebrow at you. “No,” 

It was your turn to frown. “I don’t understand what’s happening,”

“I’m not breaking up with you. You’re not breaking up with me,” She said like it was simple, tugging you towards the stools. “You’re going to sit down and drink your coffee while I make breakfast. You can talk to Tree if you like, or just listen to some of the tracks from my new album. But no one is getting kicked out or leaving,”

“Oh,” You breathed out, your shoulders dropping. “I don’t like eggs,”

“I know,” Taylor rolled her eyes, an amused smirk on her lips as she turned back towards the counter. “I’m making pancakes,”

“With chocolate chips?” You asked, watching her warily as you took the seat next to Tree slowly. 

You felt like you were in a stupid rom-com that Alex would like. Like you were the idiot boyfriend who was lost. 

“Of course,” Taylor hummed, sliding you a mug. “Drink your coffee,” 

“So I heard you’re going to be playing for Washington this season,” Tree said, and you really looked at her for the first time. 

Her eyes were kind, and she actually seemed… interested. 

“If they ever get me a place to live,” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “Their manager keeps giving me the runaround and preseason starts in like 2 weeks,”

Her eyebrows pulled tightly together and she tapped her perfectly manicured nail on the edge of her mug, just beside the tea bag string. “They haven’t figured that out yet?”

“No. The only option they sent me doesn’t allow pets, which is a serious problem for my 3 huskies,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

To be honest, your move to DC was nearly as painful as the one from North Carolina to Chicago. You just hoped that this time there wouldn’t be a dismembered toe in whatever apartment they put you up in. And hopefully, you had working AC…

The redhead's frown deepened. “Don’t you have a manager that takes care of that?” 

Your nose scrunched. “He’s not helpful,”

Your manager, Travis, had never been… involved. You were one of his 70 clients, and he preferred to do nothing besides collect his paycheck while teams fucked you this way and that. He rarely ever answered your calls, and when he did, he acted like a total slimeball. One more than one occasion he had insisted that he could turn you straight. 

Taylor turned away from the stove, meeting Tree’s frown. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, one you probably didn’t want to answer just as much as you didn’t want to talk about what had happened last night. 

Tree shook her head slightly, a movement just barely perceptible, making a low sound in the back of her throat and pulling out her phone. “I’ll take care of it,”

You blanched as Taylor turned back to the stove, flipping a pancake. 

You reached for Tree’s arm before she could fully stand from her stool. “No, that's ok. I can figure it out,” 

You didn’t need anyone else to get involved. You didn’t need to make a big deal out of this. You were sure it would only make it worse for you when you arrived. 

You’d heard that the Washington coach Richie was no better than Paul or Rory, and you knew the only way to deal with it was by not making waves. By gritting your teeth and keeping your head down. 

Tree smiled, squeezing your arm and grabbing her phone as she stepped towards the back balcony. “I’ll be right back,” 

You sighed when she disappeared through the glass doors, sinking into the stool, looping your hand through the mug handle, and taking a long drag of your coffee. 

It was perfect. Sweet and light exactly how you liked it, and the soft music playing in the background only made it better. You had never heard this song before. It was just a guitar track, with Taylor’s voice and you found yourself entranced by it. 

I know that it’s delicate, delicate.

You pressed your fingers into the side of your mug as you took another long sip, your eyes following Taylor as she hummed along to the song while flipping the pancakes onto a plate. 

She turned back towards you, sliding the plate across the marble island, and leaning against it. She waited for you to take a bite of your favorite breakfast, smiling when your eyes practically rolled back into your head at the taste. 

Her new music wasn’t the only reason Tree had visited. But she knew she had to explain that very… carefully. She didn't want to set you off, especially when you still seemed so frazzled from the night before. When you thought she would kick you out for tensing. 

She had her suspicions about why your reaction had been so strong, suspicions she had briefly discussed with Tree, but she knew she had to tread carefully. She had the feeling that if you felt too vulnerable, you would shut down entirely. 

But considering the pictures the news media had tried to splash across the headlines, she wasn’t surprised that you had tried to use sex as a distraction (or something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on). It seemed like it was your go-to method, and explained why you had been so content to leave a trail of bodies in the wake of your reputation. 

She also wasn’t surprised that it had ended… the way it did. You had already been emotionally vulnerable. Too vulnerable to have the kind of sex that was deeper than just movements and orgasms. 

She sighed. She would have to tell you why Tree was there, preferably before Tree herself told you. 

“Paparazzi got pictures of you and Alex last night,” She said, trying to stay casual. Trying to make it seem like no big deal. 

You paused, fork full of pancake freezing midair in its trajectory to your mouth for a brief second before you dropped it with a clatter back onto the plate. 

“Fuck me,” You groaned, dragging your palms over your face and through your hair. “Fuck me hard,”

It was another problem. Another thing for you to deal with. When honestly, you just wanted to pretend like last night had never happened. 

All you needed was for the fans to get ahold of a photo of you crying. 

She suppressed a chuckle. “It’s ok, Tree already took care of it,” 

You paused, your fingers scrunching in your hair before you dragged them back down your face and picked up your fork. 

Your eyes stayed closed for a long second before they opened slowly and you resumed eating like nothing had ever happened. 

It was like watching an actor pull on a mask, how you folded all of your emotions up neatly and pushed them inside. It was… incredible and sent alarm bells blazing in Taylor’s mind. 

“Oh. Um. Thanks,” 

You could feel her eyes appraising you. 

“It’s no problem,” She said with a little shrug, bringing her own mug to her lips. 

You went back to your pancakes, the only sound between you the scraping of your fork on her plate and the song playing again in the background. Your mind wandered through the chorus, enjoying the way the beat drop tickled the little spot in the back of your head. Your eyes swept across the kitchen landing on the giant stack of papers in front of Tree’s empty stool. 

“What are the papers?” You asked after a moment, pointing to it with your fork when the music died down and the song restarted. 

Taylor reached for it, placing it between you and spinning it so you could read it. You didn’t. The print was small and close together, and you didn’t want to give yourself a headache. 

“You said that no one has ever discussed limits and boundaries with you, so I thought it might be nice to do that,” Taylor explained carefully. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “So you printed a packet?”

“Well, no,” She shook her head. “I know you said that you had never done anything beyond vanilla, but I have, and I think it’s important to thoroughly know my partners limits,”

You let a teasing smirk play across your lips, sinking into the teasing to cover how… off kilter you felt. 

You had never discussed limits. With anyone. And it scared you what she could discover. What if something you said turned her off? What if she didn’t want you after you filled out her packet? 

“I didn’t know you were kinky Miss Swift,” You said, wiggling your eyebrows. “Or is there some other title you prefer?” 

A bright red blush spread across her cheeks, traveling down her neck, and she looked away from you. 

Before you could follow up, to make the gorgeous red color travel further, the sound of the glass door opening echoed through the kitchen, and Tree stepped back inside. 

“Ok. I’ve got your housing settled, and I ordered a moving crew to help you,” Tree said as she sat back down beside you, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you and Taylor. 

Or maybe she was just better at ignoring Taylor’s reactions.,

You blinked owlishly at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“All you have to do is text this number with the date you want to move and they’ll help you get all of your belongings down to DC,” She said, handing you a sticky note with a number on it. 

You had no idea where she had gotten it, but you were thankful for it. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,”

She nodded. “If you have any more issues, call me and I’ll take care of it until we can get you a good manager,”

You swallowed your surprise. You weren’t even sure how to go about finding a new manager, and you doubted you could afford one. You weren’t entirely sure how the whole thing worked actually. But Tree seemed to know exactly what to do. 

You turned back to your plate, taking another bite of your pancakes.  They were like heaven, second only to the Pancakes Kelley made. But something nagged at the back of your mind. Taylor didn’t have a plate in front of her, and there wasn’t one in the sink. You supposed she could have placed it in the dishwasher. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked, your fork pausing midair. 

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry,” 

A frown pulled at your lips.  Now that you thought about it, Taylor was not hungry a lot. She rarely ate snacks when you did, and you were pretty sure she had never finished a meal with you. 

“Then I'm not hungry,” You responded, already pushing the half-finished plate away from you, despite the way your mouth watered for more. “Unless you want to share these?”

She sighed heavily, but took your fork nonetheless, stabbing a tiny piece of pancake not drowned in syrup and bringing it to her lips. 

“Happy?” She asked you, and your smirk turned real. 

“I’m always happy when I’m with you,” 

*****

“I don’t understand what that means,” You muttered, reading number 372 of Taylor’s limit questionnaire. 

Touching while under sense deprivation

Most of the list had been easy. Things you knew you liked (like kissing), and things you knew you would never want (impact play with a cane). The rating system had also been easy to understand: things you liked and had done, things you wanted to try, things you would only try with lengthy discussion, and things you never wanted to try. 

Taylor highlighted her preference in green Sharpie and you did yours in orange as the two of you worked through her packet cuddled on her couch. She had been insistent that the two of you fill out the packet after lunch, and Tree left to give the two of you some privacy. 

“It means the use of a blindfold or headphones that cut off one of your senses,” She explained, already highlighting a would like to try in her green highlighter. “It can be fun. When one sense is taken away, others tend to heighten,”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip as the red in your cheeks got impossibly darker. 

“I,” you swallowed hard and looked away from her. “I don’t want to do anything where I can’t see you,” 

You had enough problems remaining in the moment with her. The idea that you wouldn’t be able to see her terrified you. 

It scared you to think about where your brain might take you. 

“Ok,” She agreed easily, placing a perfect orange swipe over never try, already moving on to the next one. 

It made your head spin how… comfortable with this she was. 

It was like she had done this before. She said she liked to know her partner's limits, so maybe she had. You had never asked about past relationships before. 

“This isn’t your first time going through this list, is it?” you asked, but the question was more of a statement than an actual question. 

She paused, halfway through reading hands restrained while partner touches- giving and looked at you. 

“No, it’s not,” She admitted gently. “I… I would rather be over prepared than cross a line that I didn’t know was there,”

Your head tilted, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “And you were doing kinky shit like touching your partner while their hands were restrained?”

“Sometimes,” She shrugged, her eyes narrowing. “But I feel like that wasn’t the question you actually wanted to ask me,”

It was slightly scary how well she could read you sometimes. 

You bit your lip. Your questions weren’t polite, but then again you were discussing allowing her to restrain you while you had sex. It was more… intimate than anything you had done with any of your partners, but Taylor seemed… comfortable. 

She had done this before, and you wondered… how many others had been in your position. 

“You’ve had relationships before?” You asked slowly, picking your cuticle and looking away from her. 

“Yes?” She asked back, using a finger under your chin to gently get you to meet her eyes again, as she raised her eyebrow. 

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about them,” 

“I’ve had a few, some vanilla, some not so vanilla. A few with men, but the serious ones have only been with women,” She said, her voice soft, like she knew you were insecure about asking. “Is there anything specific you would like to know?”

Your fingers picked more instantly at your thumb. “Were you-… did they-…”

Her thumb ran over your elbow. “Relax and take a deep breath,”

You did, except it didn’t help you. You felt like a fish gaping out of water. You forced your mouth to close, dragging in a deep breath through your nose. 

“You said you weren’t a pillow princess,” You mumbled, and a rye smile crossed her lips. 

“You want to know if I was tying people up or if they were tying me up?” 

You gulped but nodded. That had indeed been your question. 

“Well. The dynamic I had with my partners changed with each partner,” She explained thoughtfully. “I found early on that I preferred to give rather than receive, but sometimes it’s nice to just let go and let someone else take care of you,” 

You made a low sound as you took in the information. Really, it should have been obvious with the way she already took care of you.  She waited for you to ask a follow-up, as the silence stretched between you. When it became clear that you weren’t going to ask, she asked a question of her own. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Her head tilted, and she waited for you to nod. “The situationship?”

Your nose involuntarily scrunched. “What about it?”

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about it,” she mimicked your phrasing gently. 

You pulled your chin from her hand and looked away from her again.  It was… hard for you to talk about what happened with Mal. It still stung in a way you didn’t expect, even though you didn’t… want her anymore. Not like you had. 

“It was a teammate. We were under a lot of pressure, and it just kinda… happened,” You mumbled.  “I got hooked and she didn’t, so she chose someone else,”

Taylor made a low noise of understanding in the back of her throat. “But not before stringing you along,”

Your lips pressed into a thin line and you shook your head. “No,” 

You didn’t want to give her more details, to let yourself remember the agony of how it all devolved. How it felt like she was running you over broken glass every time you interacted. Giving you hope just to swipe it away at the last second. 

“For how long?” Taylor asked softly, drawing your eyes back to her. 

“Almost 4 years,” You sighed, running your hand through your hair and massaging the back of your neck. “The last time we hooked up was like 3 months after you and I became friends,” 

Her eyes tightened as she did the math in her head. That would make you 13 or 14 when it started. A shiver went down her spine. “So young,” 

You shrugged, your fingers digging more deeply into the skin on your neck. “Weird things happen at youth camp,” 

“Apparently,” She muttered. 

Your reaction to her trying to touch you was starting to make sense. If you had started young, and had a… bad experience… 

You cleared your throat. “How long was your last relationship?”

She blinked at you, pulling out of her thoughts. “5 years and some change,”

“Do you talk to any of your exes?” You asked.  “Like the serious ones?”

“No, those bridges went down in flames, but I keep up with a few of the less serious ones,” She shook her head. “I’m assuming you still talk to your ex situationship?”

“She’s one of my best friends,” Your shoulders lifted and fell, and your lips formed a very thin line at calling Mal a friend. You disliked how she UNC all over you, and things were… weird when you interacted, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. She was an integral part of your friend group and of the team. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” She said thoughtfully, reaching over to catch your hand as it again ran through your hair. “Because I trust you,” 

“I trust you too,” You said back, and you meant it with everything in you. You trusted Taylor more than you trusted nearly anyone. 

She smiled gently at you. “Do you want to continue this list?” 

You nodded slowly. “Let’s do this,” 

You glanced back down at the stack of papers between you. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but you trusted Taylor. 

OoOoOoO May 2017 You come around and the armor falls Pierce the room like a cannonball Now all we know is don't let go

“You are too fast for your own good,” Ali Krieger sighed, settling down on the bench beside you as you squirted more water into your mouth. 

You shrugged. “You and Dydasco keep leaving a gap for me to split, and Mal is good at finding space,”

The Washington Spirit captain hummed, sipping her own bottle. 

The defender had taken you under her wing as soon as you stepped foot in DC. She had shown up at your apartment ready to help you unpack, only to find it immaculately set up. She had taken you to lunch instead and introduced you to the rest of the team. 

They were wary at first given your reputation, but they were slowly finding out that you weren’t what everyone claimed you were. 

“Dude, that little through ball is sick!” Mal said before Ali could respond, throwing her arm around you and sitting on the bench practically in your lap. “We can totally use that against Sky Blue,”

You shuffled away from her as far as you could without being obvious, taking another long sip of your drink. “Kelley will be looking for it. She’s seen us do it too much,”

Ali had noticed that there was something… odd about the way you interacted with Mal. 

The two of you were inseparable, and your chemistry on the field was entirely unmatched. But there was just something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that bothered her about how Mal was with you. 

How you tried to squirm away from her without drawing attention to it, and how Mal would only move closer. How there was a depth to your relationship with the forward, a history, that Ali hadn’t been aware of before. 

Mal grabbed your water and squirted some into her own mouth while squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can discuss a new game plan over drinks?” 

Ali raised her eyebrow. “You’re both underage,”

“Hasn’t stopped Y/n before,” Mal shrugged, nudging you with a giggle. “She can take down a case of beer all on her own,”

You scrunched your nose, and brought your free hand to the back of your neck, pressing deeply into the skin. 

“Um, no thanks,” You said. “I have plans,” 

Mal froze, dropping the water bottle into your lap, and inadvertently getting your pants wet. 

“Plans?”  Mal’s eyes narrowed at you, and the edge in her voice made you shiver. “Which one of our teammates are you fucking tonight?”

A grimace crossed your features, but you smothered it under a mask of indifference, as you brought your shoulders up to touch your ears. “None of them,” 

Mal relaxed, ever so slightly. “Ah, so you finally got the app Lindsey suggested?” 

“No. I don’t use straight dating apps,” You huffed, righting the water bottle. “I don’t need the internet to pick up interested parties, but I’m not seeing some rando either. Not that it’s any of your business,” 

“Who was in your pants used to be entirely my business,” Mal mumbled, pressing a finger into the spot right below your ear, dragging it down the curve of your chin, and using it to tilt your head to make eye contact with her. “You liked it being my business,”

You stared her down, something passing between you that Ali didn’t understand. 

“And you made sure that it wasn’t anymore,” You said, your voice cold as ice as you pushed her hand away, and squirted more water into your mouth. 

“Ok,” Ali said, breaking the tension between you and the forward. “So Kelley will be wise to the through ball, what do you suggest?”

She had never seen you be so… direct. 

You put more space between you and Mal, your lip caught between your teeth for a long moment before you shrugged. “I’m sure Richie has a plan. He’s the master strategist isn’t he?” 

“You’ve had enough film sessions with him, so you tell me,” Ali countered. 

A dark look crossed your features, there for a split second before it was gone. Replaced by an easy smirk that Ali was learning wasn’t so easy. It was the face you made every time something made you uncomfortable and you didn’t want to talk about it. 

You took another sip from your water before you squirted it at Mal. “I’m sure he’s got a plan for his superstar,” 

You pushed yourself off the bench and ran off towards the midfield coach before either of them could stop you, and Mal went tearing off after you. 

Ali shook her head.  If only she had as much energy as you two. But still, there was something… nagging in the back of her mind. Red flags she couldn’t quite place. 

*****

You hummed quietly to yourself as you lit the final candle on your dining room table. 

The table was set. The dinner was in the oven set to the exact temperature Kelley recommended (after she walked you through how to turn it on), removed from its take-out containers and placed in glass dishes, and the trash had been removed taking with it any evidence that your meal hadn’t been created in your kitchen well before Taylor arrived at your apartment (and you had sworn Tony and Zach to secrecy). 

You had cleared off the counter in your kitchen, save for a thick off-white envelope, and a bottle of the red wine you knew Taylor preferred.  It would be the perfect date night. 

Taylor had flown in from Nashville to spend the midweek break with you, and you were fucking stoked. The two of you had seen each other in passing, but getting really quality time together during the season was rough. Nothing would stop you this weekend. 

“This is gorgeous,” Taylor hummed as she stepped into the kitchen area. “And it smells amazing,”

You smiled widely at her, pulling out a chair. “Thanks. I was just about to pull it out of the oven if you wanna sit?”

“Such a gentlewoman,” She said, as she sat, and you felt a bit of red color your cheeks. 

You had been called many things, but a gentleman (woman- whatever) was never one of them. People tended to believe your reputation and take you at face value. 

You were pretty sure Taylor was the only person to ever look past it. 

You turned away from her, moving towards the oven. “Only for you,”

She hummed, and you felt her eyes as you got the food out of the oven, and turned off the device before you brought it over to her. 

“It looks amazing,” She said as you placed the cookware on the table, and more red bloomed across your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, joining her at the table. “It’s coconut curry with chicken, broccoli and rice. It’s got a lot of good fats and protein,”

It was a habit you had started in March, listing out the good parts of your meal. You noticed that she never saw food as fuel or something to be enjoyed. It always seemed like a chore she dreaded or a part of her day she just omitted entirely. You worried and you hoped that your little talks might change her view. So far you had been (mildly) successful. 

Taylor hummed and spooned herself a good portion. “I like coconut curry. I have it a lot after shows,” 

“Good,” You smiled as the red bled up your cheeks towards your ears. “It’s one of my favorites during the season because it meets all of my macros and is filling,” 

Taylor hummed again. “What’s the envelope on your counter?”

You rolled your eyes at the thought of the off-white envelope, with your address written in perfect cursive. “A wedding invitation,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together. “I thought they got engaged in March? They’re already setting a date?”

“We have to plan around tournaments, so they picked the only time everyone will be available,” You mumbled, chewing your too-large mouthful. “Spring of 2018”

“Still seems like a fast turnaround,” Taylor said thoughtfully. 

You shrugged. “They’ve been together for like 10 years. Alex has probably been planning this for years. She can read minds, and she’s a control freak so she probably knew Kelley was going to propose as soon as Kelley started looking at rings,” 

“Ah, I see,” 

You fidgeted in your chair, your fork aimlessly scraping your plate. “Do you want to be my date?” 

It nigged in the back of your mind that the two of you might not even be together in a year and a half, and that you were probably asking her to be your date way too far in advance. 

“Unless you hate me by then,” You added, forcing a playful smirk across your lips. 

She rolled her eyes at you, swallowing her bite. “I won’t hate you by then, and I would love to be your date,”

You nodded. “I’ll talk to Alex and Kelley about getting a plus one,” 

Taylor hummed and took another bite, chewing slowly. “I also wanted to talk to you about maybe trying something new,”

You raised your eyebrow at her. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Well,” She started. “When we filled out the limits sheet you mentioned that you didn’t like all touches, so I thought we could maybe walk through those boundaries, and I’ve never seen you naked, which is kinda criminal,”

“So? You want to what?” You asked, watching her carefully. 

“Shower together,” She said, meeting your eyes. “This way it’s something we’ve done, just-“

 “I’ll actually take my clothes off this time?” You asked, meeting her eyes. 

“And you can show me where you’re comfortable being touched and where you’re not,” Taylor continued gently. “I think it might be a good exercise in intimacy without expectations,” 

You nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Ok,”

“Ok,” 

*****

Water cascaded down your body in ripples, rolling over the goosebumps that littered your skin. Your fingers tapped against your hips, as you tried to force yourself to relax. 

“We don’t have to do this Y/n,” Taylor said from behind the shower curtain. 

You thought that this would be… easier if you get into the water first. That it would ease the bubbling anxiety in your chest. 

It didn’t. But you weren’t ready to give up yet. You wanted to trust her. 

“No,” You said, your voice more shaky than you would have liked it to be. “It’s ok. You can get in,” 

You turned towards the water, letting the spray hit your face, as you heard the distinct crinkle of the shower curtain. 

You felt her warm presence behind you, though she didn’t reach out to touch you. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before you turned back to face her. 

“I want to do this,” You mumbled, meeting her eyes, trying not to scan down her body. You appreciated that her blue orbs remained steadfastly locked with yours. 

“As long as you’re sure,” Taylor said softly. “You can tell me to stop at any point, and we will. Red, yellow and green still apply,” 

Your lip disappeared between your teeth and you nodded. 

You understood the stoplight system that the two of you had discussed. Red for stop, yellow for slow down or discuss first and green for good. You swore you would try for her, so you would. 

“Remember that I need a verbal?” Taylor asked you. 

“Yes. I’m ok. Green,” You said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to. “Just…”

You looked away from her, finding a spot on the wall above her head. “Just go slow,”

“Of course,” Taylor promised you. “We’ll go at your pace. Even if today we just stand there, that’s ok,”

You nodded again. 

You didn’t like how… vulnerable you felt without your top on. 

It was too close. Too intimate and that’s part of the reason you had never done this with anyone before. 

But Taylor wasn’t just anyone.

You wanted to give Taylor this. 

You closed your eyes and let out a long breath. It shook as it left your lungs, disappearing into the steam building between you. 

You reached out slowly, catching her hands. “Let me show you where my boundaries are,” 

You went to tug her hands forward, but she resisted. 

“Can you look at me while we do this?” She asked, her voice gentle. “I want you to be present, here with me,”

It took you a very long second for you to open your eyes, and another for them to drag down her forehead and meet her blue. 

She smiled softly at you. “Thank you,”

Your head bobbed briefly, and you squeezed her hands. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to let someone touch you. 

The two of you stood there for several minutes before you gained the courage to pull her forward again. She went with you this time, letting you bring her hands to the hard lines of your stomach just below your belly button. 

“Here is ok,” You said, trailing her fingers up the center of your abs to your diaphragm before you moved them out to your sides and back down to the original level. 

“My whole back is ok too,” You murmured, feeling her nails dragging across your lower back, meeting at your spine. 

Your eyes slipped closed at the feeling. At how you could feel the body heat rolling off of her because of how close she was to you.

“Color?” She asked, and you could feel the words on your lips. 

Your eyes blinked open, meeting the fire burning in hers. “Green,”

“Good,” She said. “Stay with me, ok?”

“Ok,” You breathed back, as her fingers moved up your spine like she was counting each of them. 

You did your best to remind yourself that it was her hands on you as they finally reached your shoulders. They outlined your collarbone, and her thumbs brushed against your neck. 

It felt like a warm flame traveling from the point of her touch up to your cheeks, and down in your chest. 

“Will you let me wash your hair?” She asked, and her thumb swiped around your cheek. 

“Yeah,” You breathed out, making no move to grab your shampoo. You were afraid that if you’d turned, you would forget it was her. 

Her head tilted to the side. “Color?”

“Green, right now,” You murmured, more red flooding into your cheeks. “I just… I need to be able to see you when your hands are on me. When we’re… like this,”

“Ok,” Taylor agreed easily like it wasn’t a big ask at all. “I’ll stay where you can see me,”

You nodded, swallowing hard again. “Maybe we just do this today,” 

“That’s ok too,” Taylor hummed, her thumb running over your cheek to the sensitive skin behind your ear. “We’re doing this all at your pace,”

You swallowed hard again. “Thank you,”

Her lips tilted upwards. “Anything for you. I want you to enjoy our time together too. We’ll work up to the rest. My main concern is your comfort, and maintaining your boundaries. We’ll take it one step at a time,”

You could do that. You could do this. One step at a time. 

[st-danger]

I have a request: a hookup that keeps getting interrupted. They're trying to fuck and someone interrupts with urgent business and damnit, it'll have to wait. A quick handjob before mass but ahh fuck they're supposed to do something for Papa and it'll have to wait. Until they finally get a minute alone and just end up grinding against each other for a second before one of them comes in their pants. Nice and quick and unexpected. And then the other get pressed against the wall and a hand on his dick through his pants until he's coming too. Pairing of your choice but you know what I like better than anyone xx

The first time they're interrupted four hours earlier, it's by an exceptionally flustered Nihil who, apparently, spends more time in the library than either of them thought, it was funny even through the mild frustration. A bit disappointing, of course, but they both have to agree that the look on his face was undoubtedly worth it. Nihil, or rather his ghost, calls after them, whining about wanting to watch. That part isn't as funny and Dew miming retching over the thought? Aether would agree.

"He's dead," Dew mutters as they stride out of the library with haste. "How the fuck is he horny."

"Not to worry. I'm sure you'll be a pervert when you're dead, too."

"That's actually really nice," Dew says. "Knowing you believe in me." Aether places a small kiss to the top of his hair and sighs heavily.

"C'mon," he says. "Make it up to you later."

Later, as established, is four hours later, having blown through the list of daily tasks as fast as inhumanely possible. A quick nod from Aether is all it takes, and while they don't exactly run (a purposeful speedwalk, he'd say), they still manage to almost knock over a Sibling going round a corner. Aether apologizes, Dew does not.

He has him against the door the moment it's shut, shoving him into it, Dew's back hitting the wood with a thud. Hands much more careful that they were a brief moment ago come up to hold Dew's face, cradle it and hold it still so he can duck his head and lick into his mouth. Dew has fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him in close. Preventing him from leaving.

"Can I have your mouth?" Aether breathes against his neck, peppering it with sucking kisses, a line that begins underneath his jaw and ends under his ear so he can scrape his teeth against the lobe. "Been thinking about it. Would you? Please?"

"'course," Dew nods, hands flying to the snap on Aether's trousers, unbuttoning and shoving the zipper down before wriggling out of his grasp enough to drop to his knees and violently tug both the waistband of the jeans and underwear down to pool at Aether's feet. He's not even hard yet. Plump, sure, but like this, Dew can take the entirety of him into his mouth. He does so now, no preamble, no looking him in the face while he slaps the head against his tongue. Sucks him all in at once and swirls his tongue, massaging as he feels Aether start to fill out for real, and when he's hard enough Dew can't keep his nose pressed into the nest of soft curls at the base, he pulls off with a pop, jerks him so he can tilt his head and kiss on his balls. Aether pets his hair, head back, enjoying.

"Don't think you're gonna finish in my mouth," Dew warns. "Inside or not at all." He still sucks until the meat of his thighs are trembling, until he has to pull his own cock out because it's too uncomfortable to keep it straining against his pants.

When Aether finally gets him on his hands and knees, slides a lube drenched finger inside him in one slick glide, the only sound Dew can give is one of relief, a pleased exhalation into blankets. In, out. Petting. Searching. Curling until he earns a low grown.

"That it?" he asks. Like he doesn't know. Normally Dew would have a snippy remark towards a question like that, but it's a sign of just how much he wants more that he says nothing save for another moan and a nod of his head.

"Hurry," Dew urges, "and I'll let you put a plug in after."

Aether isn't weak, per se, but the idea that he has any control left after being told Dew is wanting and willing to keep his cum inside after is a joke. One, two, and then three drilling in and out while the heavy strokes against a special spot force Dew's cock to drool out pre onto the bed sheets. He's just slicking himself up when a cruel thing happens.

The second interruption is so far from funny.

Someone knocks on the door like they're trying to break it down, and they both startle, Aether jumping more than Dew only because he's sitting up and not face down ass up, presenting his hole to be used thoroughly and well.

"What?" Aether growls, rubbing the wet head of his cock against Dew's rim.

"Imperator wanted me to come find you," comes Rain's muffled voice, urgent and uncomfortable as he'd clearly been the target of her ire. "Mass started fifteen minutes ago and Copia-"

"Fuck," Dew mutters, shoving himself away with great difficulty. "This was- fuck, he's making an announcement, we were told-"

"Not to miss," Aether says, his excitement deflating and quickly being replaced with a mild panic.

"Yeah, the thing she told us not to miss." Dew grabs one of Aether's used shirts from the floor and starts cleaning himself up before he can protest the abuse of clothing.

"Hurry up," Rain urges. "She's not happy."

"Neither am I," Aether says, and chokes on his tongue when he sees Dew snatch the plug from the bedside table and pushes it inside himself.

They both have to tuck their cocks under the waistband of their pants in a pathetic attempt to be inconspicuous, both hoping that if they rush to the chapel, enough blood will divert by the time they sneak in, carefully avoiding Imperator's judgemental gaze. Dew squirms and Aether can't think about the reason for why that is too much or he'll not be able to stand and leave when all is said and done without embarrassing himself.

It's an easy choice to skip dinner. They'll sneak into the kitchens later to forage for something, pilfer whatever they find if a Sibling isn't around to provide them with something. Aether can live with a rumbling stomach; he cannot, however, live with aching for Dew like this. They don't even make it back to their common room. Dew decides a dusty old room is good enough. The filing cabinets and boxes of papers don't deserve to witness what they're both desperate to make happen, but as they aren't animate, they aren't about to complain.

Still, they really don't deserve it.

It's dark. No windows, no lightswitch that they have the patience or peace of mind to search for, and Dew stumbles over a pile of ill-placed black instrument cables, falls forward and hisses in pain when his knees cushion the fall.

'"Fuckin- what the hell," he bites out, turning over to rub his kneecaps. "Who left that there?" Aether says nothing and decides it's easier to simply join him on the floor. "Not how I planned to bruise my knees, so you know," Dew continues. If there was enough light, Aether would be able to take in the scowl in glorious technicolour. For right now though, he uses his imagination. Certainly he's seen it enough in the past to recall an accurate depiction. Their noses bump together in the dark finding each other's lips, and Dew shoves his hand against Aether's crotch immediately, groping. More of a demand; nobody is as skilled as Dew at making Aether feel like he has and is owed free reign over his body. He's more than okay with that. It has never stopped being a thrill.

"Get it hard," Aether breathes between lewd strokes of Dew's tongue against his own. "Squeeze it."

Dew can be an awfully good listener when the situation requires it. He gropes and fondles and rubs in the neediest way, groaning when Aether sneaks a hand up Dew's shirt to tweak sensitive nipples. It comes as no surprise that Aether fattens up quickly, Dew stroking up and down the length where it's pressed against the material. The harder and faster clever fingers toy with rings, the more insistent the groping becomes, Aether's hips hitching forward into it. He knows his face and neck must be flushed. He feels overwarm, but abandoning pleasuring Dew's chest to peel off his shirt feels unfair. He aches, throbbing under a palm so warm he can feel it through his pants. Dew is just so insistent, so-

"Slow down," Aether whispers between kisses.

"No," Dew responds, gripping harder, stroking him without a care to his protest.

It feels good. Almost unfortunately, too good. Aether is keenly aware of the fact Dew still has a plug in his ass, and that the way he squirms is to allow for more stimulation. He makes devastating sounds with every tweak on his nipples, and he knows just how to fondle his thick cock to make him insane. He's increasingly aware of the way he's tingling, the way his balls feel so full as his sack gets tight.

"Dew, seriously," he says, much more urgently as the realization of how close he is so fast smacks him in the face. Dew's only response is to kiss him deeper and Aether begins to tremble, desperate for breaths in between sloppy kisses. "One second, love, please-"

Dew focuses on the head, squeezing and stroking and that's- that's a terrible thing. What happens next is worse:

"Get inside me and you can watch it drip out later," Dew breathes.

"Oh, no, Dew, oh no, oh-"

His eyes roll and his hips twitch as the comment proves to be too much after the misery of the day. There's a quick moment where his stomach twists, a small speck of suspension, and then he throbs hard and-

Aether whimpers pathetically as his cock flexes in Dew's hand and spits out everything he has to give in his pants.

"Fuck," Dew panics, but to his credit gropes him through it. "No, fuck, you weren't- unholy shit, why-"

Aether shudders, and is acutely aware of the wet spot soaking in and spreading, face burning with the embarrassment and each wave of pleasure, twitching under Dew's fingers.

"I'll make it up to you," he grits out, and Dew's breathing, harsh to his ears, intensifies when he gets his faculties back and presses Dew back onto the dusty floor and fights the urge to unglamour enough to draw sharp claws over the jeans to tear them off.

[melbatron5000]

The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies. Edit: Found it!

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

[tahdashi]

WHEN HIS BABY WANTS A BOYFRIEND. . .

✫ ft. dad!akaashi, osamu, sakusa, and kuroo

✫ a/n: more dad!hq hcs bc they're all i think about !!! they're all girl dads here, and i imagine their daughters to be around 4-5 years old!

✫ AKAASHI's eyes widen the second he hears his baby girl's sweet voice, her words not making it through to his head completely. keiji looks at her attentively, silence lining his lips. "why do you want a boyfriend, sweetheart?" his mind starts to race. he begins generating countless possibilities of what brought this up — perhaps he isn't giving her enough attention? he has been staying later at work... he starts thinking about how lonely she must feel at daycare as she waits for her dad to come pick her up. her little hands grab at his pant leg, pulling him out of his trance.

"i wanna wear a wedding dress!" she squeals — unlike her father, she's the most excitable ball of energy he's ever witnessed (but second to his best friend, of course). he's at a loss for words. the thought of his little angel wearing a wedding dress takes years off his life, not to be dramatic. his heart beats rapidly in his chest, and he crouches down to her level, pulling her close to his chest.

"i can get you a pretty dress, love. no need to worry about boyfriends, okay?" he consoles her, and she jumps up and down at the thought of wearing a pretty white dress. the next day, keiji picks her up from daycare with a large shopping bag. and when his baby peers over the top of the bag, she sees a big, fluffy tulle dress wrapped around a tiny crown. he kisses her round cheeks, telling her that she's always going to be his princess.

✫ OSAMU puts his spoon down gently before reaching over the table to wipe sauce off her chin. "a what?" he guffaws, not knowing if she's joking or not.

"a boyfriend!" she repeats, crossing her arms and looking up at her dad from her little seat at their dining table.

"why?"

"because," she shrugs. she goes back to eating as if she never said those heart-stopping words.

"because?" at this point, osamu's lost his appetite. there's no way his little girl who asks her papa to hold her up to the sink so she can wash her hands and sing her "clean-my-hands" song is asking for a boyfriend, of all things. she stands up on her seat and puts her hands on her hips (which is nothing new to osamu — she's always been this sassy).

"i wanna marry suna, so he has to be my boyfriend first." osamu brings his fingers to his temple, rubbing circles there before correcting her.

"uncle suna."

"suna! he said i could call him suna," she replies, playing with the animal-shaped vegetables on her plate.

a deep sigh escapes osamu's chest, and he's rubbing at his temple even faster than before. to make matters worse, she jumps off her seat and runs to her dad's room to grab his phone, hitting suna's contact on the way back to the table. watching it all go down, osamu frowns when suna greets his daughter with a "hello, miss miya~."

"hello, suna! papa thinks i'm not allowed to call you suna. can i?" suna's affirmative hum only baffles osamu more, and he can't help but smile at their odd friendship.

"alright, alright, no phones at the dinner table, missy," he grabs the phone from her little hands before hanging up on suna. she whines, but climbs back into her seat to shove a spoonful of rice into her chubby cheeks.

"see! he's gonna be my boyfriend," she chews her words. "and! i'm gonna make him pinky swear to marry me."

and with that, osamu picks up his plate and brings it to the sink, a stress vein popping along his forehead. that night, he holds her a little closer than usual, wanting her to stay this joyful forever.

✫ SAKUSA comes to a halt, stopping her in her tracks, too. his hand grasps hers just a little tighter. she looks up at him through her dark curls, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion (just like his).

"why do you want a boyfriend, angel?" his thumb runs along the back of her hand to calm himself down, really.

"my friends have boyfriends! i want one too!" her fingers tug at his tightly, urging him to keep walking towards the playground.

"oh, yeah? well, they're too young for boyfriends," kiyoomi reasons with his daughter.

"but i'm 5! that's older than before," she stomps lightly. and if it wasn't for this conversation, he'd pinch her cheeks and tell her to take a deep breath before letting her frustrations take over, but he's somewhat entertained at her thoughts. she just wants to be like her friends, and that's understandable, but the thought of her getting close to a boy makes him take a few deep breaths.

"wait 10 more years, and i'll consider letting you talk to boys," they continue to walk, and kiyoomi doesn't miss the way she rolls her eyes like he does when he's stuck in traffic. and when she starts to plead, shaking his large hand in both of her own, kiyoomi decides that a trip to the toy store can make up for his refusal. he picks out a stuffed animal for her to fill the spot she desires so badly. that night, when she cuddles her new toy instead of him, kiyoomi considers extending his condition.

✫ KUROO's laugh fills the room at her question. ("dad, can i have a boyfriend?" she had asked him with her best puppy-dog eyes after she watched an ad for a new drama on TV).

"sure you can," he pulls her onto his lap as he relaxes on the couch before bed. "but may you? no." tetsuro smiles at his own response, proud of how he handled her silly little question.

"please?" she asks, clasping her hands together and giving him sadder, rounder, cuter puppy-dog eyes.

"oh, don't do that," he tries to avoid eye contact, but she ends up laughing that cute giggle that reminds him of her first smile (he heard it one night he was trying to help her sleep, cooing at her and tracing her cheek with his finger. oh, he loves that sound so much.) "what kind of boyfriend do you want? i'll try to look for one next time i go out," he jokes, patting down her messy hair.

she beams at his words, getting up on her feet with excitement. "i want mr. spark from my TV show!"

"isn't he the bad guy?" tetsuro raises his eyebrow and holds back a toothy smile.

"but he's nice to the girl," she thinks out-loud, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"baby, that's his boss. he has to be nice to her or he'll be unemployed."

"what does that mean?" she looks at her dad with wide eyes, as if he's telling her all the hidden secrets of her favorite show.

"if he doesn't listen to her, he won't get money to buy sweets," tetsuro whispers in her ear like he's passing along confidential information. she gasps — her hands cover her mouth and she thinks for a minute.

"then i need a boyfriend who is nice to me... and buys me sweets," she concludes. tetsuro pulls her in for a hug, and she doesn't fight back like she usually does with his bear hugs.

"you're a smart girl," he whispers into her head, hoping she'll let him buy her all the sweets in the world for just a little longer.

[majesty31]

𝙳𝚒𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 | 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰'𝒎 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒖𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔. 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎???

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒐, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑.𝟓𝒌

It was late, the sun was slowly starting to set, and still the boys weren’t back. At first you thought they were just late, sometimes it happened, where they just lost track of time, most of the time when they found something or when they get lost.

But they have never been this late before. And to make matters worse, your leader Alby was in there also. And everyone knew that if the doors closed with Minho and Ably inside, you would all be screwed.

So when the rain had stopped pouring, you along with every other glader stood at the entrance of the maze, watching, waiting. You bounced on your heels anxiously, your eyes trying to peer around the corridors for a shadow, a glimpse of life. But nothing.

It was getting darker, the doors would close any minute now, and you felt sick to your stomach. You hadn't felt like this since they banished Ben, and if you had to lose Minho too, you wouldn't even want to live anymore.

And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you always had something more than friendship for Minho. You two weren't as close as you would've liked to be, you've talked to him before but that was just because of Ben or Newt. Other then that you two never spoke, he didn't even seem to notice you, always looking somewhere else when you'd speak to him and just act cold towards you.

Which you never understood. You had come up only four months after Minho did, and right at the beginning he acted as if you were a burden to the whole glade. You knew straight away it was because you were a girl but you never called him out about it because you were also a little scared of him. Minho was a big guy, bigger than any boy in the glade. And you knew of his sarcastic banter but he never showed that to you, all you got was the cold shoulder and the blank stares.

But you couldn't help but fall for him, he might have so many bad traits, such as being cold towards you, never paying you any mind or maybe because he acted as if you were some child who everyone always had to look after. But the good ones overtook the bad, he seemed caring to his friends, funny, determined, always thinking of finding a way to get everyone out. He put his life on the line for everyone, and that was something that took a lot of amount of courage and will power.

You admired him, from afar of course. You wanted to have the determination he did, you wanted to be able to wake up every morning with a set mind and heart.

"What if they don't make it?" You heard the new greenie say, his words snapping you back to reality, the reality that this was actually happening, that they might not make it. And that you will never be able to tell Minho how you really felt for him. But you knew he wouldn't even care if you did.

"They're gonna make it." Newt replied, his eyes boring into the maze, searching, hoping. Like you all were. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you heart began to race. It was happening, you were letting your panic slowly take over. And you didn't know if you'd be able to stop it now.

You could feel your hands begin to shake. They just can't die, they can't. You could feel a warm hand on your back, it was Newts. He knew of your feelings for his friend, and you knew he was trying to reassure you but it did little to no help.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when you heard that all to familiar sound, followed with the ground rumbling and soon the wind blew back your hair. Finally you let your tears slip when the walls slowly started to grind together.

But then.

"Over there!" Chuck yelled, his finger pointing at the two figures who staggered past the corner, reaching into everyones line of sight. Everyone went dead silent as they all tired to figure out why Minho was moving so slow.

"Somethings wrong," Someone, you didn't know who said. Your eyes widened when you saw Alby slouched over Minho's shoulders, unconscious or maybe even dead. It was taking everything in you to try and keep yourself from screaming his name, yelling at him to hurry the hell up. But you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

"Come on Minho you can make it!" You were the first to break the silence, yelling as loud as you could and soon everyone else erupted into yells and screams at Minho. You couldn't even hear your own voice over all the noise, but you didn't care.

Dread filled your entire body when he dropped Alby to the ground, but he didn't just leave him like Gally was yelling at him to do, instead he grabbed his legs and started dragging him towards you all.

You stopped your screams, and everything around you seemed to go silent, like background noise. Your breathing was just picking up in pace and your whole body shook with fear. Everyone around you knew he wasn't going to make it, not if he moved as slow as he was. And everyone also knew he would never leave a man behind.

Absent tears slipped from your eyes as you stared at the scene in front of your eyes. Minho looked so tired, but still he dragged Alby as fast as he could, and the closer the walls got to each other the more he seemed to panic. Sweat dripped off his arms, his face and his muscles bulged through his shirt as he dragged Alby.

The more tired he got the slower he became. You could see him slowing down, everyone could. You could feel yourself on the furge of a panic attack, everything was happening too fast but he was moving so slow.

Minho let out a panic yell as he tried to will himself to move faster, but he was just too far away. Your eyes shifted to the walls as a thought came to your head, a stupid thought, a really really stupid thought. One that you didn't let yourself rethink.

"Y/N NO!" Newt yelled right as your feet stepped between the two walls. You kept your eyes forward and your panic at bey as you ran with everything in you to the other side. The side no one wanted to be on, the side that would most likely lead to your death. But that was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you could think about was the boy who you loved, and not letting him die out here alone.

You barely made it to the other side alive, having to push yourself out as the walls closed with a crash behind you. You didn't even have time to think about what you did before Minho came charging at you. His face full of anger, disbelief and fear.

"Y/N what the hell did you do!" He yelled, his eyes wide as he grabbed your arm, pulling you harshly towards him. Your heart raced with adrenaline as you stared back into his eyes. "You just killed yourself! What the hell is wrong with you!"

"I couldn't just let you die!" You yelled back, ripping your arm away from his tight grasp. He seemed taken a back by your tone but he regained himself quickly.

"And what? That means you just kill yourself too! What do you think you'll do that will save me? Save us? You know nothing about the maze!" He was so close to you, his tone scared you more than you wanted to let him know, and his words just made it a whole lot worse. You darted your gaze to the ground as they filled with tears.

"Crying isn't going to help us." He might have wanted it to come out harsher but his tone softened. He was right, you didn't know two things about the maze, or how to be a good runner, but that didn't matter, you weren't about to let him die, even if that meant to kill yourself too.

You turned your eyes up into his. "You're right." You wiped your face with the back of your hand as you took a step away from him, which caught Minho's attention immediately, his eyes following your smaller form. "I don't know a thing about the maze, and I might have just walked into my own death, but I wasn't going to let you die alone,"

He didn't say anything, his eyes just staring into yours. And this was the first time he didn't seem cold towards you, the first time his eyes weren't empty as he looked into yours. It made your stomach fill with butterflies, which was so stupid in the situation you were in.

"You don't deserve to die like this Y/N," His words caught you off guard, and for some odd reason made tears well up in your eyes again. You sucked in a deep breath as you turned away, your gaze darting towards Alby, who was limp on the ground.

"We should hide him somewhere," You said, already moving to kneel beside Alby. Your hand brushed over his face, and your heart dropped a little when you saw the gash on his head. But you didn't mention it, knowing why he had done it in the first place.

Minho didn't say a word as he took him by the arm, slinging on over his shoulder. Not knowing what else to do you followed suit, your knees almost bucking with his weight. But you just willed yourself to move even if he was heavy.

After maybe 5 minutes of walking around Minho dropped his side causing you to almost fall over as all of Alby's weight fell on you. Having no other choice you dropped him as gently as you could by the nearby wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You breathed out in annoyance, getting up on your feet as you tired to regain your raged breathing. Minho turned towards you, his eyes hardening but you cut in before he got the chance to speck. "We can't just leave him here. He'll die. We have to put him somewhere. Or hide him-"

"Where?" He interrupted, his voice full of frustration and panic. You had never seen Minho panic before and while you understood you were also getting annoyed with him. He's supposed to be the Keeper of the runners and here he is not using his head and instead using his panic.

"I don't know." Your own voice matching his. Your eyes shifted around, trying to find somewhere out of sight. But he should be the one to know the maze better than anyone, or so you've been told. "You're supposed to know everything about the maze. Isn't there one place you can think of to hide him-" He let out a frustrated groan before he grabbed your waist, pinning you to the wall.

"You don't fucking get it! Take a look around, we're trapped and we aren't getting out of this alive!" Your breathing was fast from the shock and the truth to his words. His face was close to yours, his hands were warm which made shivers run up your spine.

"With an attitude like that, yeah no klunk we're dead!" You pushed him away from you with slightly shaking hands. "Be the shucking keeper Minho!" You yelled. "And lead me."

"You are a shucking builder Y/N! How the hell am I-" A horrifying cry rang through your ears, shutting both you and Minho's mouths as your eyes shifted behind Minho. You couldn't see anything but you knew what you heard and you did not want to meat the creature that made that terrible sound.

"Okay okay, it doesn't matter Minho. We just need to hide him," You were panicking, you could feel the rise in your stomach and your throat. But you had to keep it down, this was the worst place to have a full panic attack, and the wrong person to have it in front. "What about underneath?"

Minho looked to what you were pointing at, which was under the ivy at the bottom of the wall. "Okay okay but hurry, the walls are already changing."

For the next ten minutes you and Minho got Alby safely under the ivy, you didn't know if it would work but you prayed to whoever was out there that it would. You didn't even notice when Minho had stopped helping you, all your mind was focused on was making sure that Alby was safe to leave.

"We gotta go!"

"What?"

"We gotta go!" You felt Minho grab your arms, pulling you up onto your feet. Your eyes darted behind you as Minho dragged you forward, and thats when you saw it.

Your breath caught in your throat as you laid eyes on it for the first time. The thing everyone in the glade feared, the thing no one has ever seen and lived to tell the tale. It was unlike anything you'd ever seen—half-machine, half-monster, with twisted limbs. It's movements jerky and unnatural. Panic rushed into your body like lighting and thats when everything started to feel real. That you might actually not make it out alive.

You could feel your body turn stiff, and your blood turn cold. You thought for a second you were going to throw up, cry or scream. Maybe all of them and Minho sensed it immediately.

"Y/N Y/N no no no." Minho tried pulling you with him but your feet refused to move as you watched the griever turn into another corridor. "Don't do this now. We have to go!"

"I can't do this Minho!" You felt tears burn in your eyes, your breathing was ragged and heavy, and you were starting to see spots. "I can't-"

"Yes you can!"

"No I-"

"Listen to me!" He turned you around to face him, his hands cupping your face harshly, causing your eyes to connect with his. "Look I don't know if you're brave or just brain dead for running in here, but you did okay? So don't panic now, in-fact you aren't allowed to panic now. You have to learn to control it," Minho said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because if you can't, you'll get us both killed. So shove it down you got that. Shove. It. Down."

You nodded into his hands, your mouth trembling and the tears slipping down your face. You were about to wipe them away but Minho did it for you. You would have questioned it but you were far too scared to even think about anything other than death.

"Y/N, we need to run!" Minho shouted, his voice tinged with panic as his eyes widen, looking behind you. Your heart dropped to the ground as you heard it's dreadful scream and mechanical run but this time you didn't wait for Minho to drag you along. Instead you broke into a sprint, hot on Minho's heels.

The Griever's mechanical legs clattered against the ground as it raced after you two. You could hear its heavy breaths echoing behind you, driving you forward with a surge of adrenaline fueled fear.

"We can't outrun it," You panted, your voice strained with exertion as you darted around a corner, narrowly avoiding the Griever's grasp.

Your heart sank as you realized you were trapped, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. But giving up was not also not an option—not when your life, and were at risk. And not when Minho still didn't know your true feelings.

With a desperate burst of energy, you pushed forward, dodging the Griever's relentless attacks with quick reflexes and determination. Every step felt like a battle against death itself, but you refused to surrender.

Your legs burned, your lungs screamed for air, and yet the Griever remained hot on your heels. As exhaustion threatened to consume you, you felt your pace slowing, your steps faltering with each passing moment.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. The relentless pace was wearing you down, both physically and mentally. The maze seemed to stretch on endlessly, its walls looming ominously overhead.

"We can't stop!" Minho's voice pierced through the darkness, sharp with frustration.

But despite his harsh words, you struggled to keep up, your muscles aching with every step. As you rounded yet another corner, you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

"I-I can't," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to catch your breath.

Minho's patience snapped, his frustration boiling over as he turned to face you, his expression a mix of anger and desperation.

"Dammit, Y/N!" he barked, his voice laced with frustration. "Get it together! Do you think the Grievers care if you're tired?" Minho snapped, his tone harsh. "Do you think they'll show you mercy because you can't keep up? No. They'll tear you apart without a second thought. We need to keep moving, or we're dead."

His words struck you like a blow, the harsh reality of your situation sinking in with chilling clarity. Despite the fear and exhaustion, you forced yourself to push through.

"Come on we can lose it down here! The walls are changing, closing! Keep moving, Y/N!"

Heart pounding, you glanced back to see the Griever's glowing eyes fixated on you, its mechanical limbs clattering against the stone floor as it got closer. With a surge of adrenaline, you broke into a sprint. As you ran, Minho's voice became a distant roar.

But then, a plan formed in your mind—a reckless, desperate plan. With a quick glance back, you veered off course, leading the Griever away from Minho's path.

"Come on, you ugly piece of scrap!" you taunted as you drew the Griever's attention to yourself.

Behind you, Minho's voice rose in panic, his yells desperate for you to turn back. But you ignored him.

As you ran, the walls of the maze began to shift and close in around you, sealing off your escape. With the Griever hot on your heels, you pushed yourself, every muscle burning.

And then, with a surge of determination, you made a leap, narrowly avoiding the closing walls as you launched yourself into the narrow gap.

With a sickening crunch, the Griever collided with the closing walls, its mechanical form crushed between the shifting stone. A triumphant roar echoed through the maze as you emerged on the other side, breathless and exhilarated, the sound of the Griever ringing in your ears.

As you caught your breath, Minho's voice reached you, sharp with a mix of anger and disbelief. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?" he barked, his tone harsh. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Your chest heaved, but you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down. "I did what I had to do," you retorted, your voice tinged with defiance. "We needed to stop that Griever, and I wasn't about to wait around for it to catch up to us. You're not the only one capable of making tough decisions, Minho."

Minho's eyes flashed with fury at your retort, his jaw clenched with suppressed rage. "You don't get it, do you?" he growled, his voice dripping with frustration.

"What don't I get?" you challenged, your own anger flaring as you met his gaze head-on. "Why do you suddenly act like you care huh? Back in the glade you've always acted as if you don't want me around."

Before you could even take a breath Minho was in front of you, with a harsh tug, he pulled you close, his eyes blazing with intensity as he stared into yours.

"Don't you dare say that," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't think I care?"

Before you could form a response, Minho closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss. The anger and frustration melted away in an instant.

Caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor, you found yourself melting into his embrace, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered—there was only Minho and the electrifying connection between you.

As you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Minho's harsh exterior than met the eye. And as you and Minho surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire, you knew that despite the challenges that lay ahead, you would face them together.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

I have this headcanon for Alastor's back story where he's trans, and just as himself, as he is in the show, even as a kid. So his parents sent him of to a convent, were upon ww1 breaking out in his late teens, he ran away, forged a new identity as a man, got found out once he was already over seas, blackmailed a superior into letting him stay on, where he was introduced to radio communication, and the rest is history.

But all that to say, I like to then imagine, whenever anyone tells him something mildly outlandish, but definitely true, he likes to respond with "Yes, Vox, and I took a vow of celibacy when I was a catholic nun"

To which of course people think, "so you don't belive me? I mean but aren't you a virgin? Are you not????"

And of course, this never gets asked because who's gonna ask The Radio Demom about his Sexy Life.

Angel Dust that's who.

I imagine him doing an interview on Al's Show, just a mix of publicity for them both, hanging out because they're friends, and it's all a big middle finger to the Vee's.

Maybe it's pride month and so they were planning some talk about that, Alastor joking about a possible comming out, even though its plenty well know Alastor is some where on the ace spectrum to anyone with eyes.

They get on the topic somehow, Angel says something like, "I never laid myself across the bar like that! Second set of arms at most! Never my butt, never mind my legs! not after the first time!"

"Mh-hm. You got desperate in your flirting, and I took a vow of celibacy, when I was a nun. We all do silly things, Angel."

"Well, maybe I've laid out on the pool table, but it makes for good pictures. Anyway, I been meaning to ask you about that."

"About being a nun?

"No," angel laughs, plays it off, thinking he's joking. "About your being ace and all. No pressure, but like, you really never even wanted to try?"

"No, I find it quite repulsive. The idea even,"

"You don't watch nothin'? Read nothing either?"

"Ha! No! The filthy little novel Sister Amillia sneaked in the once was quite enough- are you okay Angel?"

Angel had infact just chocked on his latte. "Wait? Sister Amillia? Sneaked in? To where!?"

"The convent, Angel. I was 14, she was 16. Wonderful woman, taught me how to handle a knife, she left shortly after the novel was discovered- Sister Tabitha was as squeaky a little rat as she looked- never saw Amillia again, though."

"Wait, sorry. You were a nun, like, actually? What the fuck?"

One of the little lights that says they have a caller lit up, but Alastor ignore it for now. "Yes, Angel, do keep up."

"Wait, so like that nun costume you wear on halloween?" Angel blows right past the fact Alastor just came out as trans, because yeah. Didnt see it comming but, the trains already wizzing by, and more importantly- "Is that like your actual nun costume?"

"Ha! No, I flung that horrid thing in a garbage can on my way to the enlistment office when I was 17."

"Enlistment?" Angels begining to see what Alastor meant when he said this episode was going to be a unique experience for his listeners at the start of the braodcast. "Like world War 1, right? You were alive for that..."

"Yes, I figured with all the confusion one little girl-"

Angel's phone goes off. It's Val. Angel hits ignore.

"Fuck off Val, I'm off today" Angel says into his mic.

But they get interrupted again and again until Angel turns his phone off.

At which point all twelve of the little light that indicate the show had callers on the line, light up.

"Ah fuck. What does he want that bad? Can you just answer it real quick?"

Alastor flips a switch and answers.

"The fuck you want Val-"

"I'm not calling for you!" It's Vox on the other end, his voice booming from the speaker "Alastor! Are you fucking serious? You were a fucking nun?"

"Yes, Vox." He says with faux patience. "My goodness, did you all stuff your ears with cotton this morn-"

"So you DID actually take a vow of Celibacy? The other day at the meeting during my presentation, you said "that'll work, Vox, sure- and I took a vow-"

"Yes. I was there."

"And!?!"

"Celibacy, among other things. If this is a dig at my sexuality than-"

"Nah fuck that, hang on I'm doing math! Okay you were born in 1901, makes you 17 in 1918, yeah that tracks. Okay so 2024 make you 123, minus the 17 years to be conservative, thats 106 yeah?"

"I was 15 when I took that vow, and under threat of being institutionalized, if that's what you're getting at-"

"108! Ha! Oh my God! 108 years! That's gotta be a record!"

"What are you getting at Vox?"

"You took a vow!" Vox screams through his laughter. "All the pomp and circumstance! On consecrated ground! before god!? To abstain from sex! And even here in hell, were sin and blasphemy are rampant and free-"

"Careful Vox, your televangelist is showing-"

"Who gives a fuck!? You're the one whos upheld their vow to God for over a century like some devout saint!"

Angel and Alastor sit there staring at eachother while Vox laughs his head off around them

"Saint Alastor the Abstinent! The pantron Saint of Virgi-"

Alastor hangs up. "Well that was informative!" Alastor chirps "Well, What's to be done about this? Hm, Angel?"

And for some reason, an unholy one, surely, the first thing out of Angel's mouth is "I could suck you dick? If that- would count?"

And it's a testament to how far they've come as friends, or pooooossbily Alastor's nerves, or maybe his sheer unwavering bravado, but Alastor only bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he get out between laughter "I don't- have one!"

And then they're both laughing and laughing and laughing, and eventually they calm down, and Alastor gets a thoughtful look. "Though, Vox did have one good point."

"Oh?"

"That does have to be a recorded, at least among sinners. Why! I very well might have redeemed myself! We should certainly bring this up with Sera at the next conference!"

And then their off both laughing again, imaging Serra's face when she realises she's going to have to look into yet more research onto the workings of redemption from Heaven's end.

[lassieposting]

So in the wake of my post on Astarion and cptsd, have another concept I've been thinking about lately:

Tav/Durge (or an origin character, but I'm gonna use Tav because there are so many potential ships) using magic on him - with his permission, of course, they're not a complete monster - to help him cope with the symptoms.

I feel like there's a lot of potential here? But I haven't really seen anyone using it in fics, so. Here are some ideas I've been turning over.

Spells Tav Can Use On Astarion:

Calm Emotions: magically subdue intense emotions.

So.

I have a fond headcanon that while Astarion is still in survival mode during the game - the worst symptoms of his cptsd are on lockdown and he's mostly able to keep it together well enough to be functional and clear-headed - there is an incident where Tav sees him have a panic attack.

Like. Maybe they're attempting to sneak around patrolling guards in enemy territory, or edging around hostile wildlife in the Underdark. They're alone, the party split into two pairs with different tasks, and some threat is headed their way. They don't want to raise any alarms, so Tav drags Astarion back into a narrow crevice in the rock, or a chest loaded onto a supply wagon, or something, to hide until the threat has passed by.

And. Astarion has never mentioned that he's claustrophobic. He doesn't show weakness unless he's forced to, and at this point, he hasn't told Tav about being sealed in a tomb for a whole year. So the first they know of it is when they're crushed up against him in a cramped hiding spot and they realise he's shaking. They try to calm him, but his eyes have gone unfocused and glassy and he's starting to hyperventilate, a wounded animal noise brewing in his chest.

And Tav has to make a split second decision, because he's going to get them noticed. So they try to comfort him and instinctively cast Calm Emotions - and it works. It cuts the panic attack off, and once the threat is audibly moving away from them, they're able to emerge and carry on undetected.

He's angry, on and off for a while, that Tav used magic on him without his consent, even once he understands what they did and why. But the thing is, it did work. It helped him get his fear under control. So down the line, as they get closer, and he begins to really trust Tav, he agrees to them using that one on him when he really needs it, when he's crippled with the panic of 200 years' worth of obediently withstood torture sessions, when he feels like dying is the only way to escape the fear. They're both aware though that Calm Emotions is a deferral, not a cure - it won't help him work through the panic attacks, and it won't stop him having them.

Heroism: instill the caster or an ally with courage

I like to think Tav uses this one on him a few times as the group approaches the city, when he's fretting about being back within Cazador's reach. They're not ✨sleeping together✨, but they are sleeping together - he has an open invitation to share Tav's tent at night, just to cuddle and rest a little easier with someone he trusts close by to watch over him. They know he's scared, and they know he doubts the group's ability to protect him if Cazador tries to take him back. Heroism here is essentially a stand-in for anti-anxiety medication - it stops him ruminating on what-if scenarios the group is determined not to ever let happen.

Enthrall: capture the attention of a creature, making it look at you

Another one that could be useful in a panic attack situation, though it's far too similar to Cazador's control to ever use on him spontaneously - it would need to be something suggested, discussed and agreed upon while he was clearheaded, to see if it was useful for him. Making him focus on Tav stops him focusing on whatever is causing him to nosedive. It's the, "Astarion, hey, look at me, just focus on me, breathe with me," spiel taken to a level that actually yanks him out of his fear spiral when just their voice won't do it.

Dancing Lights: creates magical orbs of light that brighten an area

Sometimes, Astarion struggles to switch off and unwind at bedtime. The "trying to get to sleep" gap can be a fucking horror show when you have a condition like cptsd - everything goes quiet in preparation for sleep, so it's the perfect time for all your intrusive thoughts and ruminations and spiralling to dogpile you, the way it struggles to do when you're compulsively keeping busy in the daytime.

A Tav who can create Dancing Lights is essentially giving him Candy Crush. A mindless, no-complex-thought-required distraction that shuts up all those bad thoughts long enough for his eyes to start closing.

Light: makes an object shed light in a small area

He's not afraid of the dark. The dark is a vampire's natural habitat, after all. But he is, in the early days, sometimes afraid of what might be in the dark - he has nightmares of Cazador lurking around the outskirts of the camp, waiting to snatch him up. Shifting shadows against tent fabric can warp and twist into horrors to a groggy, fresh-from-a-nightmare mind. He would rather die again than ever ask Tav to magic him a nightlight. But if an object bespelled to cast a soft, grounding glow inside his tent happened to be left beside his bedroll, well, finders keepers and all that. Of course he uses the damn thing, darling, if he leaves it off for one night Gale will probably eat it.

Detect Thoughts: telepathically link to unprotected minds and hear the thoughts of targeted creatures while talking to them.

I like to think this mostly happens when he's struggling to express something and getting frustrated.

Sometimes, it's a vocabulary issue. Faerûn is a medieval-esque setting - Astarion doesn't have terms like "trigger" or "dissociation" or "flashback" to express what's going on in his head. He has to cobble together not-quite-right-but-close-enough explanations out of the words he does have, and that shit is hard.

Other times, it's because he's trying to recount a memory that gets stuck in his throat or between his teeth. Because he can't bear to voice the humiliation, or the dehumanization, or the violence that goes with it. Putting it to words makes it real in a way that he can't deal with anymore. He wants Tav to know what's distressing him, but he just...can't say it. He can't.

And once upon a time, he would've just shown them through the tadpole, but that's no longer an option, so Detect Thoughts it is. Tav can either hear him, or he can visualise the memory and show it to them - or flashes of it, anyway. And it can be a quiet understanding between them - no stumbling over his words, no tears, no shaking voice.

Hold Person: hold a target humanoid in place.

Paralyzing Ray: paralyzes the target.

Otiluke's Resilient Sphere: enclose a target in a sphere of shimmering force...blocking all incoming and outgoing damage

These wouldn't really come into play until months or even years postgame, once Astarion is safe and settled and finally processing all the horrors he's been through - if he has an era where the flashbacks are so vivid, he might not recognise Tav, or might even mistake them for Cazador or Godey. The era where, sometimes, through no fault of his own, he might be a danger to himself and others, Tav included. What's a fantasy protagonist to do with him, when he's beyond reason? Pop him in the rage cage - where he can't hurt himself or anyone else - until he comes back to himself.

Spells Tav Has Tried And Failed To Use On Astarion:

Cure Wounds: heal wounds through touch

Probably the first spell they ever try on him, and one he could've sorely benefited from. The extra impetus to start associating touch with pain relief instead of pain itself would've done him a lot of good. But, according to the wiki, undead are immune to virtually all healing spells, which is a deeply angsty bummer.

Sleep: make a conscious creature fall into a deep slumber

As a high elf, he's immune to sleep magic, but he gets the elven equivalent of night terrors, and days on end of broken rest will leave anyone drained and exhausted. Tav has absolutely offered to try and put him to "proper" sleep, a deep sleep, so he won't dream. I've never actually played dnd, so I don't know how much leeway there is here for creative interpretation of immunity, there are certainly ways you could be creative with it - maybe his fey ancestry protects him from being put to sleep specifically in an attack context, or from being put to sleep unexpectedly, or by unfamiliar and potentially hostile magic. Maybe, if he knows it's happening and his innate magic recognises the magic of the caster, he's able to lean into it. Like the difference between being shot from behind with a tranquilizer gun and popping an ambien before bedtime.

Also! These could even be scrolls! It amuses me to think of Tav popping over to the pharmacist Gale's tower in Waterdeep to get Astarion's monthly anxiety prescription scrolls of Calm Emotions

[poppy-metal]

first kiss with mafia!jordan,,,,mafia!jordan taking ur virginity,,,,THROAT TRAINING WITH MAFIA!JORDAN!!??????!!!!!

throat training is so special to me im gonna faint. they make their little wife hang her head off the bed, cause its time she learns how they like to be served -

towering above her in all their naked glory - thick corded muscles - tattoos everywhere, a sleeve on their arm - which is pumping their dick - a snake tattoo coiling from their groin down their leg - flushed skin. and that thick heavy cock between their legs. it kinda scares you - how big it is. veins spider down it, to the thick base, to that thatch of darkly curled hair. even upside down you can see their balls hanging - a slight sway to them as jordan slowly jerks their cock. smearing their own precum down the length of it - making it shine - its intimidating but - your mouth is already watering.

it feels so dirty but so right. you're their little wife - this is your duty. to please your husband - your wife - to do whatever they want. and so you do nothing but hold your mouth open as they watch for what seems like hours before they're stepping forward.

you think they're gonna slide home right away but they dont - bracing one knee up on the bed next to your head, half straddling your face. the angle brings their balls right into your line of sight, n over your mouth. you've never seen them up close before. heavy and round and emanating warmth.

"keep your mouth open-" you hear jordan say from above - "you're gonna give me that tongue and worship my balls."

oh. your cunt clenches. the heady musk of them invading your senses as they lower their sack onto your waiting tongue. you both groan when they make contact, as your tongue immediately begins massaging the twin sacks in spit. they're so soft. you can feel the warmth of them, the weight, how they dance across your tongue as jordan keeps stroking their dick above you.

"such a good little wife, fuck. tongue bathing my balls like that - goddanm." they have to grip themselves hard around their throbbing head. already close to coming from the sensation of your little licks against them. "you feel how heavy they are? full of all that cum that's gonna go down that tight fucking throat in a minute - aw shit-"

they have to pull away before they blow - groaning at the glassy eyed look already in your eyes, they're quick to feed you their dick - sinking inside that wet silken throat.

they meet resistance soon enough - but they keep the steady pushing even as you start to gag around them. one steady hand wraps around your throat, "open that throat, baby, c'mon. dont fight it - just let me in."

tears flood from your lashes, upside down so they spill down your forehead into your hairline. you grip jordans tight ass, fingers digging in as you struggle to do as they say, opening your throat to them.

"breathe through your nose."

you do, nd it helps a little. that frenzied panic fades, and you swallow around the thick length of them filling you. letting it happen. letting them in.

"good girl" you're reward by them petting a hand down your chest, one big palm cupping your tit and squeezing. "fuck, you feel good." they flex their hips just a little, starting to pull out.

you gasp for that sweet air when they do, cockhead resting on your lips as you cough and gag.

already, too soon, or maybe not soon enough, if the ache in your pussy is any indication, they're sliding back in - groaning at the sensation.

"you take it so well - baby. fuck - you're so tight." it fills you with pleasant warmth to hear the praise and you work even harder to relax your throat, breathe through your nose, until you feel their balls resting against them, fully seated inside you. "shit that's all of it." their hand again, at your throat. "can fucking feel it through here - just stay like that. gonna jack my dick just like this - give you this fat fucking load."

[olderthannetfic]

I would never defend them - at least not the ones who actually harass people - but I do wonder if there's some antis out there who genuinely come from good intentions.

Super serious and genuinely shameful confession: I'm an ex-radfem. I went into those circles in the first place bc I liked some of Dworkin's works. And while I obviously do not recommend anyone ever get into radical feminism, I will say this: If haven’t been down that very specific rabbit hole of ideology yourself - especially in online settings - you cannot even begin to imagine how fucking INSANELY pervasive the ideas are. Even if you've been a victim of radfem hate, if you haven't been a radfem yourself, I'm truly inclined to think you have no idea what those spaces are actually like. Sorta like how if you've been a victim of fundie hate, that is awful and it fucking sucks, but if you haven't been raised fundie yourself, you really don't know what it's like to be IN those circles, just a VICTIM of those circles.

I hate to throw around words like “hivemind” or “groupthink” but it is that. I went into radfem spaces thinking that I was above believing certain things that they believed but I clearly wasnt, it is so fucking toxic and that’s why i’ll never believe that “TIRF” (trans inclusionary radfem - something I tried and failed to be) can be a real thing. And then these same people have the audacity to call trans rights a cult, but you know, it's whatever.

Obviously terfs are more serious in the "real world" than antis are, but there are some parallels in the way that both groups feel about kink/porn discourse. (No, I'm not saying that antis "believe TERF ideology" or anything, but I do think in the specific context of sex stuff, there ARE alot of parallels.)

I am not defending radfems either, but I will say that I got into it because I was genuinely worried about things such as: PH and how they just steal content from sex workers, the abuse going on in the sex work industry, the phenomenon of young girls who are waiting to turn 18 so they can start an OF account, romance novels that were not marketed as dark but should've been considering they straight up romanticized abuse and rape.

I really do think that most antis are of a similar mindset -- people, typically young traumatized people (not trying to pull the neurodivergent minor card, it's just that statistically speaking, that label CAN describe most antis) who are truly worried that, like, idk, some young girl is gonna watch Twilight or read Reylo fic and think that an overly possessive bf is #goals. Again, I'm NOT trying to defend this ideology or line of thinking at all, I'm just saying that i DO think most of them really don't realize the harm that they're doing, and actually think they're doing good.

I actually kinda feel bad for them, but like my earlier comparisons, I feel bad for them in the same way I feel bad for fundies or evangelicals. I feel bad that they hold such an awful ideology while thinking they're doing good things, but I stop feeling bad once they start ACTUALLY hurting people and I'll always feel worse for the people who they harass and harm.

And like I'd never want to be a radfem again and I hate that I was one once but, between myself and your ~10k (ballpark estimate lol) followers, I think that my time spend in that belief system gave me some really good insight to cult mindsets, which was something I didn't understand before or have much sympathy towards, and I've emerged with a lot of empathy for people who ARE stuck in bad ideologies. I could've been born into a hate group. I could've been preyed on by alt-right people and sucked in that way. Instead, it was reading radblr during quarantine that got me. Before I fell into it, I just mindlessly hated everyone in that group, and now I just feel sorry for them (still without justifying any of their actions).

It's honestly a really, really, complicated thing to try to grapple with. Anyone, yes including you reading this, can be brainwashed into hate. The second you think you're too good for that, you've lost.

This was more of a vent than a discourse ask. I guess my tl;dr is: I hate antis, terfs, fundamentalists, etc, as much as the next guy, but I also recognize that some of those people truly truly do think they're on the right side of history, and some of those people have been sucked into an ideology they never would've believed otherwise if not for xyz factors. While hate groups will never deserve pity, there are some vulnerable people in hate groups who for some reason believe they're doing good, and I wish I could help all of those people.

--

Yeah, I assume many antis are perfectly sincere in their desire to protect people. They're just wrong about what will work.

[dorkynerd23]

The Nuzi Hate Is Ridiculous And Just Saddening/Defending Nuzi.

Alright, so...let me just start off saying that this'll be the last time I'm going to discuss anything drama related, especially what goes on in the Murder Drones Community. Honestly, at least over here on Tumblr, the fandom isn't that bad and awful and is not that much of a trainwreck as it is over on the toxic bird site, but this is something that just NEEDS to be discussed in general. This situation and just the insane amount of drama and fighting that's been happening with the MD fandom lately has honestly been tiring and has taken a toll on me. it honestly has, if I'm gonna be honest, it's been draining and I just don't wanna talk and deal with this anymore. I just wanna move on from this situation and continue obsessing over and watching my favorite robot show and not deal with any of this unnecessary and childish drama anymore!

Anyways, for those who don't know, there's been a lot of arguing and fighting in the Murder Drones fandom as of lately, at least on over on Twitter, but it's been happening over on things like Tik Tok, even YouTube and it isn't uncommon exactly, but it is something that's gotten worse in as the show continues to grow in popularity. The main discussion and arguments when it comes to shipping in the Murder Drones fandom are between Envy (N X V) and Nuzi (N X Uzi) there's other ships in the fandom people like, but Envy and Nuzi are two of the most popular ones and the ones who are often the topics when it comes to shipping wars. I've already discussed and talked about the craziness and drama that's been happening with the fandom with some fans harassing and going after the VA's, people getting on them for their opinions, trying to switch things around to fulfill their egos, ect. But, the main thing I'm going to be talking about with today's topic is Nuzi and the amount of unnecessary hate it's gotten and how I think it's unfair, because it's seriously gotten worse and worse. And if you don't know what the ship Nuzi is and aren't very familiar with the ship or MD itself as a whole, basically, Nuzi is the pairing between Serial Designation N and Uzi Doorman from Murder Drones, who are two of our main characters in the show. Now, people have been shipping these two since the pilot and have enjoyed their interactions and at first in the beginning of the show it seems the show was hinting at the two being just good friends but as time went on, the show started to develop and explore the two and things started to change and the show has started hinting at both N and Uzi starting an eventual romance down the line and hinting at some romantic tension going between them. Now with Uzi, it seems she's definitely starting to fall in love with N and gaining feelings for him, but she seems to downside her crush on him and it's pretty one-sided since meanwhile with N and his side of things, he seems clueless and isn't aware of Uzi's feelings and it seems that he only sees Uzi as a friend and nothing more beyond that and the show hasn't hinted on how N feels about Uzi right now..of course, it's too early to tell for where the relationship between these two will go and it's too early to have N and Uzi fall in love and start an relationship but there is potential and room for them to start a relationship eventually, there's room to dive more into their dynamic and relationship and potential to have a good romance between the two.

Now, as I've stated..Nuzi has gotten an extreme amount of hate lately, some misinformation and rumors have been spread around in the fandom to the point it's caused people to start attacking others who are fans/love the ship and started going after and harassing fans who make fanart of the two, anits and especially diehard shippers of both Envy and Thuzi, (but it's mostly Envy shippers) keep on throwing around and saying the excuses on how Nuzi is a "P*oship" and how N is an adult and Uzi is a minor and how they're siblings, or say how, "Uzi has a crush on Thad!" "N has a crush on V and even admitted it!!" And they'll just use EVERY excuse in the book..they'll turn shit around and do whatever they can to make people feel bad and shitty for simply even adoring and liking Nuzi and finding it cute, hell it's even gotten to the point where some fans started going after others for liking other ships in the fandom like Vizzy/Pink Lemonade, and just any ships involving WD X DD. I'm not kidding, I've seen fans and others argue that Nuzi wouldn't work out because both N and Uzi are different robot species and how on N has killed and slaughtered Uzi's people. Apparently because both N and Uzi can't make a good pairing because they're apparently, "boring and uninteresting" and one is a WD and the other is a DD, but because both V and N are DD's and because they knew each other in the past that automatically means something..? Seriously?? I'm not joking when I say some of these fans are downright ridiculous and childish, they'll do whatever they can to stop people from liking ships like Nuzi and shame people for even enjoying it and make childish hate posts on said ship constantly, and it's overall just so hurtful and ridiculous, Dude. And it's people like them that make this fandom look awful and downright toxic, it's people like them that make others think that everyone in the fandom is like this when that's far from the truth!

I'm honestly really sick and tired of how this fandom mistreats and bullies other people just for simply liking different ships, people have stated that they feel hurt and feel like they can't like certain ships without them being attacked and shitted on, they feel like they can't like something they enjoy without others dragging them down and being hated on. It's ridiculous how some of these fans see Nuzi as the most awful and horrendous ever made and it needs to be forgotten forever. It's ridiculous and laughable how some of these people point out and rant on how much they hate Nuzi, only to make it the only thing they talk about and mention 24/7, some of these people literally just whine and complain about how they're not a fan of said ship. I mean, it's totally fine and okay to not like certain ships and you don't have to love and enjoy the same things as others do, but you don't need to make hate posts all the time and bash others for finding comfort and liking the ship they like, you don't need to make rants 24/7 on how you despite said ship..it just makes you look so damn childish and just unbearable, like okay..you're not a fan of certain ships, okay? JUST MOVE ON!! WE GET IT, just stop harassing and making us feel like shit and horrible people, stop making us feel terrible for loving Nuzi, just move on and just don't interact with us if it bothers some of you so damn much. I mean, it's gotten so bad that some have left the MD fandom because of the toxicity and childish behavior from some of these fans. Just please stop and be nice to one another, it's not right how some of you will harass and do whatever you can to make people feel shitty for enjoying what they love and trying to paint them out as these awful individuals. Like seriously, I just cannot stand shipping wars and I really despise them, shipping wars are such a waste of time and are just an excuse to harass and cause unnecessary drama and it just results with people getting hurt. And I've said this many times before and I'm gonna say it again, shipping shouldn't be the ONLY thing to focus on when watching and getting into any piece of media. There's much more to love and look forward to, there's more to appreciate and shows have more to offer than just ships, SHIPPING AIN'T EVERYTHING.

One more thing I'm gonna add and talk about before we finish up is that..I don't even understand and get the hate Nuzi has received, I mean I'm fine and totally alright with people seeing them as friends and respect their opinions. But, what's with some of these people just disliking and harassing people for seeing the two more than just friends and wanting them to be something more? I've seen people argue and say that it's either too cliche and just call both Uzi and N, Starco 2.0. And it's just ridiculous how some of these fans and antis act whenever there's moments with Uzi and N together or when the show is hinting at a possibility of the two being an item someday. Is this seriously how these toxic fans are gonna act whenever Nuzi have any moments together?? Whether it's romantic or not? It just seems the idea of Uzi and N being something more just burns these fans up inside and just frustrates them to the core. Nuzi ISN'T what you guys think it is and it's more than that, nothing is being rushed and forced and nothing is being written poorly between them either, and they AREN'T another Starco. Also, Nuzi isn't just here for fanservice, these moments we've gotten with Uzi and N were already planned out and worked on, MD has been in the works and in production since about 2020, wayyy before the show even came out and before the fandom was even a thing. Uzi and N were already planned and hinted at being something more and having something special between them, they were always meant to have something deeper and important and the show seems to be going the route in wanting to develop further into Uzi and N's dynamic and their relationship as a whole. The scenes we've gotten for Uzi and N have always been planned out and if Nuzi happens and becomes a thing in the series, it's because Liam wants it to be and planned it that way, NOT BECAUSE OF FANSERVICE!! It's fine if you're not a fan of the pairing and just don't find any interest in it, you can love and like what you want. But please stop acting like it's a big deal and something to get angry about, because it's not..it's not worth it. It's not worth throwing tantrums and acting over the top about, just move on and ignore.

Anyways, this is all I've wanted to talk about when it comes to this Nuzi hate and the drama that surrounds the ship when it comes to the fandom, I've just wanted to give my thoughts. Also, everyone in the Murder Drones Community, just PLEASE be nice and kind to one another and respect each other's opinions. ♥️ You guys are better than this and getting into arguments and shipping wars aren't worth it and are just plain silly, doing any of this just results in people being hurt and affected, getting into shipping wars aren't worth it and they're are better things to do. Please, be nice to each other and if you aren't a fan of certain ships in the show then that's fine and alright. Just move on and scroll away and respect other's feelings and opinions, you don't have to like a ship that's popular or what many seem to like! Just don't be a dick and treat others like crap and make hate posts just because you're not a fan of said ship, just please move on and keep moving forward! Plain and simple, just ignore and move on with your day, mistreating and hurting others just isn't worth it.

[likedovesinthewindd]

another ex!patrick blurb yay >_<

The school hall is packed to the brim, murmured conversations and palpable excitement in the air as everyone waited for the start of the recital. Your leg couldn't stop bouncing, though, anxiety coursing through your whole body as the minutes ticked by without Patrick's presence. He had promised both of you that he'd be there, and you knew it would break your daughter's heart if he didn't come to her very first recital.

The crowd erupts in cheers as the girls make their way on stage, little tutus shimmering in the stage light with every step they take before they're lining up in a row next to their teacher. She waits until the cheers die down before she starts talking.

You watch your daughter's eyes search for you in the crowd, face lighting up in pure joy when she sees you. You give her a small wave and blow her a kiss, and she waves back timidly as their teacher goes on to introduce them. Her eyes fall to the empty chair next to you, and you see how her smile falls slightly at the absence of her dad. You wanted the earth to swallow you whole, you wanted to burst into tears. Most importantly, you wanted to kill Patrick.

The music starts, and the recital officially begins, the girls starting with their well-practised routine. You watch as your daughter dances around stage, fully enjoying herself as they all move around to the soft music

There's a small commotion at the end of the row, but before you could even turn your head to look, Patrick's squeezing in and plopping down in the chair next to you. You only spare him a small look before you refocus your attention on the stage. "You're late," you say, and you know it's so stupid to state it because he knew he was late. Everyone knew he was late, but you still felt like you needed to say it.

"I know. I'm sorry," is all he whispers before he also focuses his attention on the stage.

Soon, the recital ends, and all the parents are scurried outside the hall waiting for their kids to join them outside with their teacher. When your daughter sees the both of you, she makes a beeline, immediately jumping right into Patrick's awaiting arms as he embraces her in a tight hug.

"Did you see me, Daddy?! Did you see me dance?!" she asks excitedly as she pulls away from him. "Of course I did! You did amazing, sweetheart," he says, and her smile stretches from ear to ear, making your heart flutter with happiness. She turns in his grasp to you as you move closer to the two. "Are you ready for pancakes, sweetie?" you ask, smoothing down the flyaways from her tight bun.

"Can daddy come with us to the diner? Please mommy?" she asks, eyes bright with hopefulness. You had promised her pancakes and a milkshake from her favourite diner after her recital, and you've always been a bit of a pushover when it came to her.

You sigh softly, looking over at Patrick in question. "Only if Daddy wants to," you ask, and like lightning, she's whipping her head around to look at him with pleading eyes. "Of course I would," he smiles at her, and she shrieks in joy.

"Okay, go get your bag before we go, then," you say before she quickly makes her way back inside the school hall.

That leaves only you and Patrick standing outside amongst all the other parents. Your first thought is to ask him why he had been so late, or maybe shit him out about it, but you knew it wouldn't deter him in the slightest. Over the years, Patrick has built a sort of tolerance to your harsh words; they bounce off of him easily and don't bother him at all anymore, because he knows you hardly mean what you say, only ever looking for a way to get back at him.

"You look nice," he suddenly says, successfully breaking you out of your deep thought. "Thank you," you say coldly as you dig around your pockets for your car keys. "I'm gonna go look for her. We'll meet you at the diner," you say before making your way back inside. All Patrick can do is laugh to himself as he watches the sway of your hips as you walk away, knowing this cold shoulder wasn't going to last long.