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#I really thought this was going to be shorter...idk if I really got what I wanted to say across but once I started writing I couldn't stop
xan-from-space · 1 month
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Senshi is probably the most fandomized character in Dungeon Meshi, and while I don't exactly mind it, I do think he has more depth than that. I find all his little quirks and idiosyncrasies to be fascinating; he's very stubborn and set in his ways about things that seemingly don't matter, he thinks about things that other people don't, he has a deeply set value system that informs everything he does. He cares A Lot, like, this man cares So Much. That's the kind of person you have to be to drop everything to help a random group of adventurers save one woman. But because he feels so strongly about things, he can also be surprisingly immature at times (although he's also the character most likely to admit he was wrong about something). I think part of that is because he's lived in the dungeon on his own so long that he's not used to working with other people. He will extend empathy and friendship to almost anyone, but he does things his own way, and he doesn’t always feel the need to explain his way of thinking because again, he's usually on his own. He's both incredibly wise and kind of childish in ways that seem contradictory at first, but make more and more sense the more we learn about him. Major kudos to Ryoko Kui's writing and pacing to make that transition so seamless and have all those details from his backstory click into place perfectly. And on a wider thematic level, Senshi is kind of a perfect counterpart to characters like Thistle (or any other dungeon lord). Senshi understands the dungeon in ways that even its creator doesn't. Although everyone is scrambling to take control of the dungeon, Senshi is the one who actually takes care of it. He's the one who thinks about things like nutrition and proper sleep and the ecosystem, all those things that it's easy to ignore when you get swept up by the grandeur of it all. He's the most important character to have present in a story that explores life and death and hunger. His constant, invisible presence holds everything together.
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good-beanswrites · 3 months
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I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.
Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.
When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs. 
Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off. 
He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone. 
If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.
Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts. 
He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.
Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below. 
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken… 
Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones. 
He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down. 
He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?
A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead. 
He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?
Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”
As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before. 
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.
Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!” 
Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there. 
“I can’t do this anymore.”
She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?
He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?
The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him. 
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.
“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed. 
He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.
She didn’t. 
Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said,  “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.”
“But--”
“-- But I’m better, yeah.”
Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing. 
“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.
She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”
“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.
After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts. 
“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.
“They almost killed me. You saved me.”
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mntalbrakdown · 1 year
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pocket size - P. Hynes White
masterlist
mentions of: height? idk let me know if you find any!
synopsis: percy liked that you are shorter than him
a/n: i’m no longer writing for him so plz no hate!!!!
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12 inches. a whole foot shorter. you were 5”2 and Percy was 6”2. he liked how he could tower you. he liked the way you would have to look up at him. he especially appreciated when it was sunny outside because you would have to look up and the sun would catch your eyes making you scrunch your face. he also enjoyed how your hands would be wayyyy smaller than his. but out of all these things, his favorite thing about how short you were was putting his head on top of yours and wrapping his hands around your waist.
You and Percy have been dating for a year. you bumped into him in a pharmacy, trying to develop your film. Percy was waiting next to you holding his camera and you with yours.
“you take pictures” he tries to start a conversation with a girl he found attractive
“yeah, just started with this, I have an actual camera,” you say smiling weakly
“I think you should keep using a disposable camera so we could bump into one another more often,” he says trying to secure a date with you
“or you could just ask for my number” a date you wanted
“would Instagram be included in that bundle” he tried to stalk you, he tried to find out who you were as a person
“or maybe on the other hand I actually don’t have a number” you try to joke
“no don’t be like that” he’s a little flustered now
a few days later after that interaction, you were on a date. after that date led to more dates than asking for you to be his officially. it was nice to have someone to call yours and be excited to hang out with whenever possible.
—-
“ready to head out,” Percy says wrapping his hands around your waist as you’re putting on the final touches of your makeup and hair
“yeah, one second,” you say putting on some perfume that Percy got you during his time in Romania. it was vanilla-scented. your favorite
you were ready to go out on your date. the date was a dinner and you wanted to bet Percy that he was going to move your seat next to his to be able to sit next to you.
right, when you were seated across from each other Percy gets up and moves his chair in the middle asking you to do the same and you did. the thing is that you thought that the distance between the two of you was perfect, but in Percy's eyes he thought differently, he scooted your chair so his practically touched. the whole night after was him with his arm around your shoulder or his hand lying on your thigh.
—-
during car rides, Percy likes to put his hand on your lap. squeezing it and making his fingers dance around. when it was summer he liked how you would dangle your head out the window. how your hair would dance in the wind.
he also liked how in the winter you would bundle up and wear his hoodies because they were so warm but you secretly liked the smell of them. he liked that you would wear the hood and sit on the car seat with yours legs held to your chest because you were so cold.
—-
he never cared about the arts really until he met you. he liked being able to take pictures of you in his bed in a small form but never liked actually making the art. he never learned from the lessons that Netflix made him do.
he liked how you would look when putting your head on his bicep. while you would observe the art. he would have you wrapped around his arms. his head on top of yours. you would talk about all the details of the painting and he would listen nodding and humming in amusement.
one thing the two of you had in common was liking films. every Tuesday heading to the closest AMC theatre. you would watch films and analyze them together afterward.
the theatre had reclining seats and you could move the middle cup holder up so the both of you could cuddle together. and that’s what you did.
every film no matters if it was scary or not you would lie on his chest while he wrapped his arms around you. (the same way you both slept) you liked the way his heart would beat speed up when he would look down on you. you could tell because his head would move around. and you could tell his shit-eating grin was on his face once again.
of course, afterward, you would talk about the film going back to your shared place. he would laugh at your theories of the film. he would play your theories in his head on the way to sleep and they would always make sense.
—-
he also liked baking with you. he liked how you would move around a lot and get the batter on your face somehow. he liked that you had your hair back in a messy style and would have an apron on. sleeves rolled up ready to take on whatever you were doing
“perc! I need your help” you yelled and saw him resting his body on the wall that splits your living room from the kitchen
“what do you need my highness” he bows down
“I need you to get me the pink bowl on the top right cabinet” you point to the thing causing your pissed-off state.
you never understood why he never got you a stool. maybe he liked being of help and being able to be in your bubble while you bake. because he never once got in the way of your work.
he never once let you put the pan into the oven because he was scared you would burn yourself. which never happened when you were on your own.
“why can’t I do it,” you ask feeling like all the work he has done
“don’t want you to get burnt,” he says opening the oven and putting in the pan
“there are mittens for a reason, y’know they aren’t decorations”
“but you look so pretty all healthy and smooth,” he says getting the brown batter from your nose and licking his finger clean
he liked cleaning up with you. playing with bubbles and splashing you with water. he grew in love with your face, he grew to be able to read your facial expressions. enough being said he could read how pissed you were but he knew to not mess around anymore.
waiting for the pastry was enjoyable. he liked waiting on the couch with you. you were in between his legs and your head rested on his chest. you would scroll on your phone and Percy would watch. when the pastry was ready you both would always burn yourselves it was like you never learned. and you would both laugh at each other. but it was enjoyable and you both would finish it in a day.
—-
the get-together was at his place. it was strictly just the cast. they slowly started to pile in through the door. he was excited to be reunited with them. he found the friends that he loved. and you were happy for him. as he greeted everyone he was ready to sit down on the couch and you were close behind. he was holding your hand guiding you to your seat.
another thing Percy was extremely mad about was you sitting on his lap. no matter if there was plenty of space everywhere else. he loved sitting with you. he especially did this when you were laying on the couch watching some TikToks and he would make you get up and lay on top of him. it would make you go crazy and not in a good way. but it made him happy so you let it slide.
“so how long have you two dated” hunter asked
“About two years,” Percy says playing with your hair. twisting it and fiddling with it between his two fingers
Emma was trying to get your attention. she thought you were interesting. she liked the way you probably have a lot to say but just keep to yourself. she knew deep down you were funny because well you were dating Percy.
“what’s something that Percy has done here that no one else knows about,” Emma asks looking directly at you. you start laughing at the thought
“no-“ Percy says trying to hold you from saying it
“he…he sings t swift when he’s bored” Percy tried to cover your mouth before you finished the sentence, but it was too late because what you said was out and everyone was laughing
“so- uh- so who wants to play uno” Percy says trying to move the conversation
wanting to get the Uno cards that were under the coffee table. in a red tin box that once contained chocolates, Percy got you for valentines day. once you got it you were walking to his kitchen. all the seats were taken and Percy put you on his lap. he shuffled the cards and something about that no matter who did it, was attractive. Percy however liked the way your hands made the Uno cards look humongous while he made them look tiny.
“Are you both teaming?” Jenna asked
“should we” Percy whispers in your ear sending butterflies straight to your stomach
“Sure,” you say kissing his cheek and everyone started teaming up.
halfway through the game, Percy has half the deck with him.
“I should've never teamed with you” you laugh at just seeing the cards
“I’ll make us win don’t worry” he had his eyes wide like he was determined. and that he was because he always kept his promises to you.
and by the end of the night you both did. he liked the way your eyes would sparkle with joy that only lit up with winning. how you would wrap your hands around him and laugh.
—-
one thing Percy hated was high heels. it was like they were enemies. you never understood it. it wasn’t like you would get whiny about the heels hurting you. in fact it was the opposite. you would run dance jump all of it and all Percy’s face was saying is how much he hated those things giving you height.
he liked that you would have to tip-toe for him but those were easy access they took one of his favorite things about you. and if he could he would destroy them all.
he liked that at the end of the day, you would dress in his clothes to go to bed. it was practically a nightgown for you. he liked how you would clean your face and make sure you felt clean. he liked the way you would be ready to go to bed and not even act like you didn’t want to be by him. because you did you wanted him to wrap his arms around you because it is reassuring and comforting. and wake up in that same form in the morning.
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strawberri-elixir · 3 months
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Sleepless nights
╰⇢ 28. Darling???
Warnings: none…
note: i feel like this part is a little shorter for some reason??? idk but regardless i’m leaving y’all on a cliffhanger >:] (also check out the poll i put up for the next smau)
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“I’m gonna step out to the washroom real quick.” Yuta points to the door, tucking his phone away into his pocket.
“Hurry back quickly then.” You roll your eyes. “Toge said he’s coming soon.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be back soon.” The boy returns your eye roll as he steps outside.
You continued to sit, waiting for either of the two boys to walk through the door.
“Anyone in here?” You spot a familiar head of platinum-blond hair poke into the room.
“Nope.” You call out, flashing a smile as you locked eyes.
Toge let out a breathy chuckle as he walked in, giving you a half hug when you were close enough.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice.” You pull back from the hug, taking in every single one of the boy’s features. It was all coming together, like a puzzle. The hair, the eyes, hell, his voice.
“Well, now you do.” He gave you a shy look. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”
“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “I get it.”
“Thank you.”
An awkward silence fell over the two of you, neither of you attempting to make eye contact. Where was Yuta when you needed him.
You stood there, eyes looking over at anything but Toge. And it’s not like he was trying to look at you either. It wasn’t until you heard a small cough, that you finally looked over to the boy in front of you.
“I uh… got these for you.” He finally reveals what he’d been hiding behind his back.
He pushed something soft into your face, flushing as he looked away. You took ahold of the gift and looked down at it. It was a bouquet of flowers. Your favourite ones to be exact.
“Woah… thank you…” You felt yourself blush as you looked back at Toge, the room suddenly feeling hot.
“Mhm. You’re welcome.” He scratched the back of his neck.
More awkward silence… joy.
“Well-” You started.
“I like you.” Toge blurted out before you could actually say anything. “Like- really like you. From the night we met in the rain, to those days in class when we’d mess around.”
You stood there, absolutely shocked. Maki was right, he really did like you like that. She is never going to let you live this down after.
“You don’t have to say anything, and I definitely don’t expect you to reciprocate, but I just thought you should know.” He continued. “But I mean it, I really like you.”
“I-” You had no idea what to say. So many thoughts swirled through your head as you looked at the boy in front of you.
“How’d it-” The two of you turn your head towards the sound of a new voice. “Go…” Yuta stood at the door.
The dark haired boy started at the two of you, the flowers in your hand and the small glare that Toge shot him. Yuta stood awkwardly at the entrance to the room, unsure of what he should do next.
“You were saying?” Toge turned his attention back to you.
“Oh- right-” Your eyes flicked between the two boys.
But before you could give Toge a real answer, you caught Yuta turning and walking out of the room at an alarming pace. It was obvious he was upset in some way.
What were you going to do…
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Masterlist | Next
fun facts:
— none! thank you guys so much for supporting this series! it really means a lot to me that we made it this far! the next part will be the final
taglist: closed
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@frumira @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082 @koiir @g0rep1ty @k4romis @beaniedoodz @seventhcinema @macimcnaron @pumpkinisnotsane @wowowwin @neigee @someonethatisnobody @vndl-1 @yoyo-yui
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bold means i can’t tag you for some reason :[
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macabr3-barbi3 · 12 days
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pretty wings- Vox/fallen angel!Reader
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55237840
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A Good Samaritan- a rare commodity in Hell- helps Vox to his car in the rain. How can he ever repay her?
Tags: wing kink; angel wings; fallen angels; vaginal sex; couch sex; fantasizing; begging; switching? maybe idk; Vox has a lil crush <3
💙❤️💙❤️💙
How it still manages to rain in Hell when there is no real atmosphere, he would never understand. Vox had never really liked the rain, even when he was alive- all it ever meant was canceled plans, systems going down, deep shitty puddles that got his shoes and pants wet and dirty. Like now, standing off the back porch of the restaurant he had just finished a meeting in, waiting for his fucking assistant to answer his goddamn phone and call a driver for him so he could go the fuck home since he couldn’t walk to his car. 
He had been standing under the awning of the restaurant for twenty minutes now. The rain showed no sign of letting up, his meeting partners had all left, and Vox was fucked. He couldn’t go back inside- what kind of fucking loser goes back into an establishment after paying their tab, and for what? To ask for an umbrella? He’d rather die again. And if his assistant didn’t pick up his phone real fucking soon, someone would absolutely be dying today. 
“Excuse me, sir?”
He sighs internally, sets his charm to its max setting and the brightness of his screen up before he turns towards your voice. “So sorry, doll, I’m afraid I’m all out of time for photo ops today!” 
You raise an eyebrow, and he lets his gaze travel over your form. You looked relatively normal for a demon, your face still pretty human besides the two horns that came off your skull. Your eyes were wide and yellow, a heavy coat draped over your shoulders as you looked at him- not that much shorter, he noted, which was a nice change of pace from talking to Velvette all the time and having to crane basically in half to meet her eyes.
“That’s… not what I was going to ask.” 
He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and can feel his screen glitch on his smile as he watches you. “An interview then? Look, you can contact my people but I am really not in the-”
“What I was going to ask,” you interrupt him, and Vox fights down the wave of annoyance at having been cut off, “was if you needed help.”
His face screws up and he means to immediately deny. “Absolutely not. I’m perfectly fine-”
“Are you?”
And that was going to get annoying fast if you kept doing that, he thought to himself.
“You’ve been standing out here for close to half an hour and glaring at your phone. I don’t think its crazy to assume that you need some assistance with something having to do with the rain.” You look him over, much the same way that he had done to you. “I would imagine that the whole ‘TV head’ thing you have going on doesn’t mix well with precipitation.”
Well, you had him there. “You’re not wrong,” he admits testily. “But my assistant will be sending someone to drive me soon. I’ll be fine.” He flashes you a winning smile.
“I mean, I guess you could wait for your assistant to answer your calls- doesn’t seem like you’re having much luck with reaching them.” You cross your arms over your chest, and- nope, Vox was not going to stand out here in the rain and ogle some random sinner’s tits. He redirects his gaze. “Or you could let me either walk you to your car or walk with you to wherever you’re going.”
He throws you a side eye and sighs heavily, letting his head drop back before rolling an eye down to look at you. “You don’t look like you have an umbrella,” he says, crossing his arms now as well. “How exactly are we getting to my car?”
You give him a smile that shorts a fuse in his head for a moment, wide and earnest and pretty. “Who needs an umbrella?” You shrug one of your shoulders and the coat you’re wearing starts to slide off your shoulders. Vox makes a move to stop the slide like a gentleman, keep the coat covering your body and stop it from slipping into a puddle, when it rises up off your back and comes to cover the both of you. He sees black feathers interspersed with white spots as the bottom comes into view, and he realizes it wasn’t a coat at all.
You had wings. Big, powerful wings by the look of it- the part connected to your back didn’t shake under the weight of the limb being extended over your heads. He stared at them; he knew he was staring, that you might think it was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was mesmerizing. Thrilling.
He feels a spark of arousal shoot through him at the sight of them, and his plans change for the night. You’re pretty, and the curves of your body are appealing, but the wings. He wants to explore them. Wants to tease you with your own feathers. To run his fingers over them and watch you struggle to maintain this composure you have. He’s confident in his ability to get you home with him- maybe offer a drink as thanks for your help or something. 
“Sure, I guess you can walk me to my car,” he says, feigning an air of disinterest despite the twitch in his cock. “It’s not every day one meets a sinner so giving- I might as well take advantage!” He sees the flinch that shoots across your face, making your wing tremble, but you straighten up and stiffen your shoulders, gesturing out to the street being beaten by the rain.
“Lead the way.”
He steps out from under the awning and is delighted when your wing does, in fact, shelter the both of you from the weather. You bring the second wing out to block any rain from blowing under the first with the wind, and Vox is fucking obsessed with the subtle muscle of them, the careful strength in the way that you adjust the angle of them to keep him dry. It seems subconscious, the movement of them, as Vox gave you directions to where he had parked earlier when the sky was dry and he had thought he could enjoy a nice walk after his meeting. 
A piece of paper, litter off the ground, comes flying under the shelter you were providing him aiming right for his screen. He brings up a hand to block it- wet paper wouldn’t do any real damage but it was still annoying- when the tip of the wing over your head dips down slightly, catches it with a corner, and flings it off to the side. A drop of water manages to fly off the thing and splatter on his screen. You give him a smile, apology on your lips at being unable to prevent the attack. You turn back to the cars in front of you, looking for the electric blue of his vehicle that he had described to you.
Vox wants you spread out in his bed, he decides. Your wings splayed out behind you in whatever position he decided to take you- he would work with anything. He could trace his fingers over the delicate bones with you on your back as he drilled into you; grab a fistful of feathers while he fucks you from behind, use that leverage to sink his cock into you as far as he could manage; let you unfurl them from your back while you ride him so they cover you both like a blanket, seal yourselves off from the rest of the world and let the only light you see be his screen in the darkness of it.
“Sir?” 
He blinks hard a couple times and realizes that you’ve reached his car, and you’re standing there in the rain illuminated by the few streetlights that reach this back corner. Your eyebrow is cocked at him in amusement, wings still suspended over him. “I think walking you over here defeats the purpose if you don’t actually get in the car.”
“Right, right!” He touches a claw to the vehicle and it roars to life as he grabs the handle and maneuvers himself inside of it. He looks up at you now, the positions reversed, and his breath catches in his throat, cock throbbing. You’re magnificent like this, wings still hanging above you and slightly over the car to make sure no moisture can reach him. The rest of your body is relaxed but he can see it in his head, the way that you would look tense with pleasure, eyes clenched shut and mouth hanging open. 
You give him a smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 
The vague chagrin that shoots through him does nothing to quell the erection rapidly growing in his pants. “I was going to say thank you,” he insists, and the way you laugh has him wanting to inject the sound into his fucking veins. “Can I- can I give you a ride home? You know, as thanks for walking me over here, making sure I don’t get waterlogged.”
You look like you’re going to refuse at first but then you shrug. “Sure. It’s not too far, if you really don’t mind.”
Fuck yes! The processors in his head are whirring, wondering how best to convince you to come back to his place on the way to yours. Or fuck, maybe he could just join you at your place. He wasn’t picky about where the fucking happened, as long as it did. He was desperate for it, to have you gasping for him while he plucked at your pretty wings with his cock nestled deep inside your pussy.
The passenger door opens and you enter the car with your knees on the leather seat. He questions it for only a moment before you lean back and shake your wings viciously outside the vehicle, dispersing as much of the water as you can before you sit normally in the seat. You buckle up and give him a sweet smile, pointing a slender finger to the other side of the parking lot where the exit is.
He can’t remember being so fucking turned on before as he puts some music on and starts driving. Sure, he had his fun with Val and sometimes some of his actors between scenes and shit, the occasional fangirl or one of Velvette’s models but just being aroused by the presence of someone? Who wasn’t actively trying to seduce him? Was just sitting in the passenger seat of his car while he drove her home?
It was new, and it was exciting, and God, those fucking wings…
They’re tucked delicately behind you, the black of your feathers contrasting nicely with the deep red leather of his seats. He’d never seen a demon with wings like these before- they were usually attached to the arms of them or draped off the back. More for decoration than anything else; even Val’s wings weren’t so prehensile and flexible, he thought, thinking about the way the tip had dipped down to sling that piece of paper away from him.
“So, your wings-”
“We’re here,” you say with a grin, the car not even having left the parking lot.
“What? I- here? ” He does stop the vehicle before looking over at you, craning his neck forward to look at a building that sat kitty corner to the restaurant he had his meeting in.
“I told you it wasn’t far.” He can hear the giggle in your voice. “How else do you think I saw you standing out here the whole time? I could see the glow of your screen from my window. Figured I would offer a hand since you didn’t look like you were making much progress.”
He stares at you. He hadn’t had time to try to convince you to spend more time with him- to convince you to let him get his hands on those feathers.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You’re reaching for the door handle when he blurts out, “wait!”
And thank fuck, you do. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised but your hand stops reaching. He clears his throat, fixes you with what he hopes is a suave look. “Let me thank you,” he says. “We can go grab a drink at my place- or I can buy you dinner, if you’d rather do that. Order some takeout if you want to stay home.” Smile wide, he waits for you to respond.
Bells and whistles ring in his head as you buckle back up. “I’m down on one condition.”
“Name it, doll,” is his immediate response, and he’s only a little embarrassed at the speed with which he spoke. “Really, I want to give you a proper show of gratitude- there’s no way this counts. Whatever you want.”
A crooked little smile graces your face. “Can I get your name?”
He can almost feel the error message crawl across the bottom of his screen; he doesn’t know what it says but he watches your eyes follow the scrawl of words, the real reason he knew it was there. “Vox,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaves off what is obvious to anyone else- Overlord of Hell, Media Mastermind, TV demon on the fast track to ruling Pentagram city. If you didn’t already know these things then you had to be new- that explained the blatant disrespect earlier, interrupting him, dismissing his words. If you didn’t know he wouldn’t tell you yet. He would win you over and get you onto a horizontal surface without his reputation; preferably with his sharp tongue, strong fingers and thick cock if he had a choice in the matter.
“Vox.” You repeat his name, and it sounds so sweet and innocent that he can’t wait for you to scream it out in ecstasy. You give him your name in return as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Vee Tower.
The silence is comfortable on the relatively short drive, Vox pulling the car into the basement garage of Vee Tower and quietly relishing in the fascinated expression on your face when someone comes to grab the keys to park his car as he leads you to the elevator. “You’re some kind of hotshot, huh?” You ask, lashes fluttering at him in a way that makes his knees weak.
“Something like that, doll,” he says, smile wide while you take it all in. Even just the garage is sophisticated and impressive, and he wishes he could see it through your eyes. He notices your raised eyebrows at the push of the button for the penthouse, but you don’t say anything. “So, your wings- are you some kind of bird?”
A tight smile. “Something like that, doll,” you parrot back to him. “That’s more of a second date question, I think.”
Second date. Was this your first date? Fuck, he should have called his assistant ahead of time and made him get something prepared fresh- gotten some fucking good champagne in- swapped out his comfortable sheets for the silk ones that his bed partners were nuts for even if he didn’t really care for them. But his assistant was fucking useless tonight, evidenced by the fact of your being here in the first place since he couldn’t get a car to fetch him.
Vox might not have met you if he had answered the phone though- so maybe he would let it slide.
He leads you out of the elevator into his home, the lights of Pentagram City casting a lovely red glow over your body. “Nice view.” You stand by it, the white tips of your wings illuminated where the light shone through. He comes to stand beside you in front of the couch, and you give him a pretty smile. “I do have a question though.”
“What’s that?” He has his phone out, firing off one last text to his assistant - "If I don’t hear back from you in the next ten minutes I’m swapping your contract for one of Val’s. FUCKING ANSWER ME” should get his message across- and missing the narrowing of your eyes when you turn back to face him.
“Do you know that you aren’t subtle?” You hook an ankle around the back of his leg and yank, sending him toppling backwards into the couch, his phone hitting the cushion next to you. He has only a brief moment to flounder, wonder what the fuck was happening, before you were straddling his lap, knees on either sides of his thighs and your skirt pulled taut between your legs. “See, I really couldn’t tell if you thought you were. I figured I would ask.”
“What?” He can’t find the power to do anything but watch with his eyes wide while you slide your hands down his chest and settle into his space, the warmth of your cunt palpable through his trousers where you rest against his rapidly hardening prick. “What do you-”
“Ah, you don’t know. Cute.” The word makes him twitch, and when he opens his mouth to protest what comes out instead is a choked off whine as you roll your hips into him. “I like my men a little cute- when they think they’re being so suave and sexy but all they can think about is getting their hands on my body. Or my wings, in this case.” As you mention them you let them puff up a little behind you, spread out ever so slightly so Vox could get a better look. His breath catches- silhouetted by the glow of the city behind you, you were breathtaking. 
“What gave me away, doll?” He could deny, but what was the point in that? The night was already progressing the way that he wanted. You were perhaps a little more forward than he was expecting, but he could work with that. As long as it ended with your pussy swallowing up his cock he would be a happy demon.
You laughed, the sound like a bell in the silence of his place as he settles his hands on your hips. “Besides the blatant ogling of them when I first brought them out and the whole way across the parking lot, you mean? You had an error message in the car running across your screen just here-” You lean down and lick across the lower right corner of his face. “You wanna know what it said?”
“Enlighten me.” He’s amazed he can still get a word out with the blood rushing to his cock, hard length pressed against you where you’re seated on his lap.
“‘Pretty wings,’ it said.” Your fingers come down to undo his belt, whipping it from the loops of his pants. Vox nearly chokes on his tongue when you pull his cock out, already hard and leaking in your hand as you tighten your grip. “Suuuper cute. Over and over.” You lift your hips a bit, shoving your skirt up near your hips and hovering over his length. “I wanna hear it instead of reading it though- can you say it for me, pretty boy?”
You skim his tip through the slickness between your legs, and his brain short circuits when he realizes that you haven’t been wearing panties. “Fuck me,” he manages to laugh out. “Was this your plan the whole time? Play the good Samaritan to get me home so you could ride my cock?”
You shake your head and let yourself sink down the slightest bit, a breathy moan leaving your throat as his head is swallowed by your tight, wet heat. “Not initially. I really was just trying to be a nice person.” You throw him a wink, pulling away when he tries to thrust up and not allowing him to get any deeper inside of you. “Come on now- give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”
Fuck, if that doesn’t shoot straight to his prick. “Pretty wings,” he murmurs, letting one of his hands leave your hip to brush against the soft feathers. “They’re beautiful. Strong. Fuckin’ perfect.” With each word you slide down further until you’re fully seated on his cock. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“That’s it, baby,” you say, and shift your hips forward to get him where you want him. “You were thinking about this, yeah?” With a downward grind you let your wings unfurl completely, filling his vision with a flash of feathers that blocks the light of the city from reaching him. A ripple runs through them, the tremor rolling all the way from top to tip and the feeling is imitated around his cock, your tight walls rippling.
He doesn’t whine, thank you very much. But a broken drawn out sound does escape his mouth, screen thrown back over the back of the couch. He can’t bare to fucking look at you with how perfect the moment is, the sight and sound and sensation of you stuffed with his cock better than he could have imagined. “I wanna touch them,” he says, but when he reaches his fingers out you wrap your hands around his wrists, surprising strength in your redirection of his palms to your chest.
“Can we say ‘please’, pretty boy?” You let your wings flutter, a gust of wind blowing across his face from the movement, moaning when his prick hits a soft spot inside you that makes you gush around his length. “I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.”
His pride fights him for a moment- this wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go, with him at your mercy instead of the other way around. He had wanted you under him, wings spread across his mattress and feathers fisted in his hands while he fucked you.
“I’ll give you a demonstration of what I’m looking for,” you offer, and then your lashes are fluttering, eyes rolling back into your head and a whine falling forth from your mouth. “Oh fuck, Vox , baby, please.”
Pride flies out the window in favor of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. “Please, sweetheart,” he says, and he lets his clawed thumbs roll over the pebbles of your nipples where you hold him against your chest. “Let me touch them? I’ll be real gentle with you, baby.”
You pick up the pace, releasing his hands and bringing your wings forward, bordering him on either side so all he can see is you. “That’s what I like to hear,” you whisper with a grin, bracing your hands on his shoulders and properly riding him now, the slick sound of your body taking him in echoing in the emptiness of his living room.
He lifts his trembling palms from your chest and brushes the tips of his claws along the bottoms of your wings, feathers gliding softly over his digits- the sensation makes you moan, another gentle ripple running through them. He fists his hands in them, pulling lightly like he might at someone’s hair, and your wet heat pulses around him, pussy tight like you mean to keep him inside of you forever. He wants that- wants to stay buried where he currently is until Hell falls to pieces around you.
His phone rings on the couch beside him, the call taking over his screen moments later. Vox doesn’t want to let go of your wings, having just gotten his hands on them- with a shake of his head the call is dismissed, only to immediately come back and take over his face again. “God fucking-”
You lift a hand from his shoulder and answer the call, a right swipe and a wicked smile leading to Vox’s assistant’s voice filling the space between you and him. “-and I am SO. SORRY. Sir I swear, I have never had my phone on silent like this before-” He continues his rant, and Vox struggles to remember why he was even calling right now- he was fucking busy, damn it, what the fuck.
“-understand that you’re upset, but please, sir, I’ll do better, just don’t send me to Valentino-”
“Better answer him,” you whisper to Vox, dragging your tongue up the side of his screen, hips grinding down. “If I cum before the call ends I’ll leave.”
Graceful fingers slide down your body to rub at your own clit, moaning prettily into the side of his face while his assistant rambled in his ear. Vox was going to fucking combust.
“Just- fuck, man, shut up. It’s fine.” You chuckle into his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning it and raking your claws down his chest. “ Jesus fuck, I- no, not you. It’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning-”
“But sir if you still need a ride-”
“I fucking found a ride, alright,” he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your wings in one hand and letting the other trail firmly along the top of it, all the way down to the tip. The feathers seem to shiver in his grasp and your cunt clenches around him, threatens to pull him over the edge with how close you are. “Call me in the morning. Now f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞. ”
Voice files corrupted, he disconnects the call, reaches his hands around your back to finger at the base of your wings, the skin there taut and sensitive if the keening groan you let off into his shirt is anything to go by. “Fuck me, you feel divine,” he mutters, and you choke off a chuckle at the word. “Let me feel you, angel, cum on my cock.”
“N- naughty men that don’t say please don’t get to make demands,” you say, and he could tease you, could pull your hand away from your clit and make you hover right on the edge of release. But he was a selfish man, and could admit that he wanted the feeling of you coming undone around him more than he wanted to be right.
“Please, baby, please,” he begs, and you hiss through your teeth at the sound of his pleading, sweet and low, the slightest hint of static to his voice. “God, fucking d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, please, l- let me w̡̻̻̣͚̒̀ͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡-”
““Oh fuck, Vox, baby, please-” Less sarcastic this time despite the half formed smile on your face, and the teasing lilt to it is ruined by the clenching of your eyes as you clamp down on his prick and cum, fingers of the hand not frantically rubbing at your clit digging into his skin while you shudder and shake in the embrace of his arms. 
He follows you moments later, the tension he had felt since meeting you outside the restaurant finally cresting and crashing, and he spends himself inside of the slick grip of your cunt, still riding him with the effort you can spare after the force of your orgasm before eventually slowing. You take your fingers from your clit, circle them around the base of his cock and collect some of your combined releases before bringing them up to his mouth, pushing inside and letting Vox’s tongue wrap around the length of them.
Fuck. You would be the death of him, he was sure.
“Not bad,” you mutter once you’ve collapsed bonelessly against him. “Might need a couple more rounds to really show you the ropes though- really get it through your screen here who is in charge.”
“That’s not you, doll.” Vox laughs, and you bring your wings up to surround the two of you like a fort, the glow of his screen illuminating your face and the teasing smile you wear.
“I guess I could be willing to share,” you agree, leaning forward far enough to press a teasing kiss to the plastic of his face. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you reassure your little assistant that you’re not going to murder him.”
“Still thinking about it,” he muses, “but we’ll see.” He runs his fingers again along the bottom of your wings, delights in your shiver, and wishes the rain would never stop.
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star-writes-sometimes · 2 months
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green butter
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word count - 2.2k
c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader
a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet
you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.
you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.
you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep. 
as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.
“wake up please lupin.”
he just groaned and shifted tiredly. 
“pleaaaseeee.”
he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.
“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”
“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.
“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”
“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”
“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”
“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”
“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”
“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.
“do you want dinner, love?”
“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”
“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”
“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”
you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”
“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”
your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”
you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.
"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.
"mhmm." he hummed in response.
you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.
remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you. 
"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.
"yeah i made it earlier." 
remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."
you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."
"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.
"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."
"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."
"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."
he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.
"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.
"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.
remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.
eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.
“rem?” 
“hmmm?”
“did you eat more butter?”
“you have no proof of that.”
“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”
“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”
“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”
remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow” 
“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”
“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”
you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”
forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.
he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.
“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.
“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."
“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”
you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”
“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”
“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.
he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”
you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”
he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”
you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”
he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”
it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”
“that scary fucker was right.”
“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”
“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”
“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”
“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”
you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”
he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”
“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.
“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.
your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”
he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you. 
“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.
“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.
“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.
he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.
“remus, lovie?”
he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.
“can we go to bed?”
he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”
“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.
“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.
“we'll stay together the whole time.”
“promise?” he said softly.
“pinky promise.”
at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.
you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.
“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”
“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.
you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”
“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”
“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”
you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.
you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.
his eyes were bloodshot.
he was high.
you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”
“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.
“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.
“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”
he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.
you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”
“you keep me stable.”
“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”
“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”
you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.
“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.
you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.
he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”
you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”
“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”
“well we can’t have that now can we.”
it was silent for a few moments.
“what do giraffe’s eat?”
“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”
“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”
“for harold?”
“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”
you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”
“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”
“goodnight remmy.”
“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”
you could pretend it was real.
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tboywriter · 3 months
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Crush | Angus Tully x reader
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pictures not mine, edit is mine gender neutral reader edited: no (might edit in future) warnings: angst(?), swearing, drinking/drunkenness, weirdly-written pov, disappointed "parents", idrk summary: Angus and reader are both pining but all it takes is a little alcohol to fix that. -> Hunham isn't fired, reader goes to Barton a/n: I'm so glad the internet loves this man as much as I do. This movie got me to write again so I'm just glad for that. I might post more for him, idk. Let me know if you want some shorter stuff. I tried to capture Angus's dorkiness but IDK how well that turned out, LOL!
♡ ♡ ♡
“God, that was so nerve-wracking!”
“Really?” He smirked. “You didn’t look nervous when you were up there practically singing your heart out.”
“I mean it! My heart’s going so fast! Here, feel it.” Before he could process what you meant you had already grabbed his hand and stuck it flat against your chest. He could feel the thumping, rhythmically beating faster than usual, but mostly he was fixated on his hand being pressed against your body. His eyes widened a little, staring at your hand that still held his, his mouth parted ever so slightly. 
His face became flushed as you rambled on about the presentation and how you worried about how it might affect your grade. He envied you in that moment, able to be so normal about something as intimate as this. He wanted to move his hand lower, feel more of your chest, but instead you released his hand and he returned it to his side. 
You didn’t notice how quiet he was, trying to stop his mind from going to places he didn’t want you to know about. He nodded along whenever you looked up at him and laughed when you laughed but his eyes flitted between your neck and your lips. 
He noticed he was walking at some point, didn’t even realize he was moving until you stopped in front of the door to your room. You walked inside, turning when he didn’t follow. “Coming in?”
He shook his head, effectively shaking his wandering mind free of dirty thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. What are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” You sigh, flopping on the bed. “What do you want to do?” He stood awkwardly beside you, his hands in his pockets. Laughing, you pat the spot next to you. “Relax, what are you so on edge for?” Right. This wasn’t something unusual. You two often came to each other’s rooms and lounged around. 
He didn’t smile back but he could feel his cheeks heating up. He only hoped you wouldn’t notice– “You okay?” You sat up, leaning against the headboard and staring into his eyes as he sat down across from you. 
“Yeah, sorry, my mind is somewhere else.”
“Yeah? Where else?” You tilted your head slightly, like a puppy diligently listening to their owner.
“Nowhere.” You didn’t press, you never did. He’d tell you if he really wanted to, no sense in annoying him about it. After that fateful Christmas break that brought you two together, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about his dad every time he began to stare off into space.
You’d met because of circumstance. The only two ‘holdovers’ left at Barton academy. Angus’s parents couldn’t be contacted and you couldn’t stand the thought of spending three weeks with the biggest jerk in school. It’d be much nicer to spend the weeks alone, reading in your room– or studying as Mr. Hunham originally governed. Instead you got to, albeit unintentionally, sort out your trauma together. Who knew Librium was such a popular drug?
“You wanna go see if Mary’s got the Match Game on? I kind of just want to sit on the couch.” He nodded.  
Mary was in fact in front of the TV and Mr. Hunham, a bit unexpectedly, was too. They shared the couch facing the screen although sat on each of the ends, as far away from each other as possible. Mary and Mr. Hunham both liked their respective routines: Mary’s was to relax each night with game shows and Hunham’s to be alone… somewhere. 
You and Angus entered the room silently and sat on the adjacent couch, considerably closer than the two adults. Angus grabbed a pillow and handed it to you before grabbing one for himself and hugging it. He leaned back into the cushions, tired eyes lazing towards the television. You had a similar approach, putting the pillow on the arm rest and lying down, legs tucked in. 
When you woke up, you were just as you were when you first sat down. Only now there was a blanket draped over you. You peeked over the blanket to see where Angus had taken up the same position you had on the opposite armrest. He was rubbing his eyes currently, only just have woken up himself.
He winced as he stood up and stretched out. You smiled, his long legs must hurt from being curled into that awkward position all night. 
Mary walked in, fully dressed in her uniform. “Good, you two are up. I didn’t want to have to wake you. Hurry back to your rooms, it’s already 7:15.” You glanced at the clock to confirm. 
“Shit!” Angus exclaimed but then rescinded under Mary’s disapproving gaze. “Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. Mary, why didn’t you wake us up last night?”
She put a hand on her hip. “Why should that be my job? Anyways, I fell asleep too. Only one who didn’t was Hunham who was gone when I woke up.” 
“Fair point.” Turning to you, Angus got caught in his own tracks. He meant to quip a ‘let’s go’ and begin to head back but he was instead met by you, still leaning against the pillow with slightly tousled hair and half-open eyes. 
Mary had left at this point, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at one another for a couple moments. You broke it by standing up next to him, slowly and steadily. “Guess we should get ready for breakfast, huh?”
“Yeah. Uh, yeah.”
After breakfast, you and Angus didn’t see each other until your Laws and Government class. He usually sat in the back corner, unseen and unheard, but you preferred the front so you could pay better attention. Instead, a compromise was made, and the two of you now sat in the center of the room. 
The teacher of the class was a highly pompous and old-fashioned old man. His hair was stark white and his cheeks and nose glowed red. He’d almost look like Santa Claus if it weren’t for his contant scowl. Worst of all, he hated uniqueness. If you didn’t kiss up to his highly conservative values then you weren’t getting an A. And you needed an A. 
He was handing back the scores from the oral presentations you had the day prior. The one that made your heart jump out of your chest and into Angus’s unexpecting hands. You both looked at each other, making reassuring eye contact before flipping the papers. He smiled, B+. You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more disappointed. C-? What was the point of putting a minus when anything under a C was failing? You shrank back into your chair, never having got a failing grade before. 
You stuffed the paper in your bag, not caring that it crumpled. Angus reached over and placed his hand on your knee. He didn’t say anything but you appreciated the gesture. He knew how much your grades meant to you. You stuck your tongue out at him and his decent grade but he knew you meant well.
You didn’t usually drink, but tonight was the exception. Was it dramatic to be drinking due to a bad grade? Yes. Did that stop you from taking up Teddy Kountze’s offer to go to an off-campus party? No. Yeah, maybe it was a bad idea to accept the offer of the guy who was a constant ass to you and your best friend, but when he asked you were already in a bad mood. You didn’t even have to interact with him there, just confiscate all the free alcohol and get comfortable on the couch. 
And so you did. When you walked into the house you said ‘hi’ to a couple people you knew and then ran to the kitchen. The smell hit you immediately, there was no second guessing what everyone was drinking. God, people really like this stuff? Whatever, it’s just one night. 
“Angus Tully, call for you.” A teacher Angus didn’t recognize had knocked on his door at nearly five to one in the morning. He groaned, trudging down the hall to the nearest phone. Getting a call was already rare for him but one at one at one a.m. was out of the question. It was even more surprising when he heard the voice of the person on the other end. 
“Tully?”
“Kountze?”
“Thank God, can you get down here?” 
“I already told you, I don’t want to come to your stupid-ass party. Shouldn’t it be ending soon, anyway?”
Teddy groaned. “I don’t want you to come and hang out, I want you to come and pick up (Y/n).”
“(Y/n)? What’re they doing there?”
“I don’t know, man. Just come get them. I don’t know how much he drank but he’s been passed out on the couch for hours. Every time I try to wake him up he just kicks me.” Angus laughed. “Just get him out of here, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Give me twenty minutes.”
Angus didn’t have a car but he knew someone who did. He knocked on the door to the teacher’s lounge where he knew Mr. Hunham would probably be watching TV with Mary. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Mary yelled for him to come in. 
Mr. Hunham nodded. “Mr. Tully.”
“Hello, Angus. You didn’t come all the way down here just to watch TV with us, did you? Usually you’re not alone.”
“I didn’t, actually. I was hoping I could get a ride, (Y/n)’s drunk and needs a ride home.”
Mary frowned. “(Y/n)? I didn’t think they were the type.”
Angus just shrugged. “Usually he’s not but he’s been talking to Teddy Kountze more. I think he’s the instigator here.” He stuffed his hands into his front pocket, shrugging. 
Hunham scoffed. “That boy is a devil.” 
“Oh, shush. He’s just a kid.” Mary scolded. “... even if he is a little asshole.” 
They shared a laugh, followed by Mr. Hunham groaning as he stood. “Alright, I’ll drive. But I'm staying in the car. And tell him not to vomit on my seats.” 
Angus nodded, following his teacher out. “Yes, sir!”
When they arrived Mr. Hunham parked on the street, right out front. Angus got out onto the lawn. “I’ll be right back.” Hunham nodded. 
He saw Teddy first. Teddy just scowled and pointed to a room to the right. You were exactly where Kountze said you would be, passed out on the couch. You had a bottle of something in your arms, snugly held tight against your body. Angus pulled that out first and set it on the table across from you. You grumbled softly, missing the feeling of having something in your arms, and shot your leg out to kick who you thought was Kountze. 
Luckily Angus was just out of reach and laughed in response. “(Y/n), time to wake up.” You lifted your hand to shoo him away but he persisted. “Come on,” he shook you softly. “Let’s go. Mr. Hunham’s outside.” That woke you up.
“Mr. Hunham?” Your eyes got wide. “What’s he doing here?” You sat up and Angus sat next to you, keeping you upright after a bit of sudden dizziness.
“He’s our ride.”
“I’m a bit embarrassed.” You put your flushed face in your hands, leaning your elbows on your knees.
“I’m sure he won’t judge you… Maybe just a little disappointed.” He laughed, standing back up and holding his hand out.
“No, I’m embarrassed with myself. I shouldn't have drank.” Your slurring was becoming more apparent now and Angus was sure you’d start crying if you stayed here any longer. 
“How much did you have to drink?”
You knit your eyebrows together and frowned, obviously starting to get a bit grumpy. “I don’t know. Three? Four?” 
“What? Bottles?”
“Cups.” You nodded towards a red solo on the table.
“Cups?” He laughed. “That’s it?”
You sighed, grabbing his hand and standing up. He couldn’t help notice the way you didn’t let go. Chests almost pressed together from the tight space. “Yeah, It’s my first time.” He breathed in sharply, eyes floating down.
“Really? You’ve never drank before? Mary was right about you.” 
You slapped his arm half-heartedly. “Mary knows too? Who else did you tell!?” He broke from the spell and began to lead you towards the door.
He smiled. “Only the whole school.” You groaned in response.
When you got outside, Mr. Hunham rolled down the window to begin his speech before you even had the chance to get to the car. Angus opened the door to the backseat and helped you in but you grabbed his arm when he began to back up. You tugged ever so slightly and he gave in to the weak show of force, climbing into the backseat with you. You didn’t put up a fight but neither did he. 
“... this isn’t the way to go about life. When you get to my age you…” You nodded along to whatever Mr. Hunham was saying, occasionally adding in an ‘I know,’ ‘You’re right,’ or ‘I’m sorry.’ Angus sat a bit stiffly next to you. You still had his arm in yours, hugging it as you had with the bottle. 
He dropped you onto the edge of your bed before falling down beside you with a groan. He needed a moment before he went back to his room. You, slightly more awake now, slung your legs across Angus’s chest in an awkward L-shape. He let you stay like that for a moment, catching his breath and savoring this while he could. 
“Angus?” You asked softly, tilting your head to peer down at him. 
“Yeah?” He pushed your legs back off the side of the bed so he could kneel beside you and help you take your shoes off. 
“You’re so pretty, do you know that?” He paused, staring across at you, obviously shocked. Your face, though, was completely indifferent. “I mean it, you’re so beautiful. You’ve got perfect hair and perfect skin and perfect eyes. I don’t get it. You must know, right? I hope you know.”
“I-” He tried to speak but what would he say? He was still knelt down, desperately watching your face– which was still staring back innocently. Without thinking, he crawled onto the bed next to you, leaning up against the headboard. You adjusted, too, so you could continue staring at him, head on the pillow. He felt a bit hot under your gaze but he basked in the attention, he only wished he knew how to respond to make this last. To get you to look at him like this forever.  
“God! You’re just so perfect! I don’t tell you that enough but I do think it. A lot. You’re just so pretty…” 
“I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” 
He could see the fatigue slowly taking over your eyes as you kept going. “You’ve got this dopey smile,” You saw his face turn. “Not a bad dopey! Cute-dopey. It’s the kind of smile that makes me want to smile too.” Absent-mindedly you began to reach up to touch his lips, stopping centimeters from contact.
“Um, thank you.” God, that’s what he came up with? 
You giggled, though.“You’re welcome.” 
“I think you’re pretty too. I’ve been staring at the back of your head since I got to Barton. And then when Christmas break happened I was pissed I didn’t get to go home, sure, but man I was so excited when I found out you were staying too. I’m glad I get to see more of you than your hair now.”
“You’re lying.” You accused him but you were smiling. 
“I’m not, I swear!” He couldn’t help but smile too. 
“You can’t have been looking at me since you moved here because I’ve been looking at you since you moved here. And before Christmas, I don’t think we made eye contact once.” 
“Believe what you want,” He laughed. “I’m telling the truth.”
You sighed, brushed him off wistfully, and went back to longing. You spoke as if you’d forgotten the previous few exchanges. Perhaps you had. “I wish I could look at you all the time. I wish I could touch your face and your hair whenever I wanted. I wish I could–” You abruptly stopped and stared him down. Angus had to remind himself again that you were out of it. You looked as if you were trying to make a decision but the alcohol was making it impossible to choose. Angus leaned forward a bit, almost unwillingly. He hardly even noticed his movements until your fingers finally touched his face.
Your eyes flickered down, his did too. Slowly you brushed against his bottom lip. He parted his mouth slightly, cheeks becoming more red by the second. You moved onto his top lip before brushing his cheek. His eyes hadn’t left your mouth. Pulling your hand back slightly you looked up to his messy curls. Reaching up, you grabbed the hair at the back of his neck, running your hands through it. He had to stop himself from making any noise. 
“And you’ve got these big brown eyes, they’re really pretty, you know. I feel all shy when you look at me… like in the way you are now.” You sighed deeply, as if the weight of the world were on your shoulders. “God, Angus. I think I love you.” 
It took everything in him to not swoop down and kiss you right then. He was glad you were drunk so you wouldn’t remember his bright red face, but he also couldn’t help but wish your confession had been a sober one. His mouth was stuck in a small ‘o’ before he realized you were waiting for an answer. “I don’t think this is the right time.”
You cut him off before he could clarify. “What do you mean? Are you dating someone else…? I’ll wait.” Your words made him sputter out a short laugh but your face was nothing but serious. 
“That’s not what I meant. I–” 
You frowned. “Then, what do you mean?”
“I mean,” He brushed some hair from your eyes. “You’re drunk and probably won't remember any of this in the morning. How about you tell me again when you aren’t inebriated?”  
You grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest. “Why? What if I forget? It hurts too much not to tell you…”
“I won’t forget.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.” 
He kissed you on the forehead, needing something to tide him over until he could act the way he truly wanted to. You curled up on your side before looking at him expectantly. He blushed and compiled, lying down next to you but leaving a couple inches between your two bodies. 
He heard you laugh and move closer. He let out something between a moan and a gasp and you smirked in victory. Still, though, he wasn’t close enough. You reached out and grabbed his hand, setting it on your waist. 
“You never told me,” You leaned into his chest. “Do you like me back?” You sounded like a middle schooler talking to their playground crush. Angus was almost unable to respond from the grin that trapped his face. 
“Isn’t it obvious? Of course I’m in love with you too.”
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imaginespazzi · 2 months
Text
Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger
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Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?
(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff
Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)
TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!
August 2021
where are you 
i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 
dude 
are you on your way?
you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 
PAIGE
i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 
but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?
this isn’t funny where are you?
i have to leave in 15 mins 
are you actually not coming?
wtf????
this is actually bullshit
get over yourself bueckers 
wow 
fuck you
just landed 
thought you might like to know 
sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 
September 2021
dude enough okay 
can you just call me back??
i just wanna talk 
i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   
November 2021 
hi i’mma be in dc over christmas
nvm 
idk why i’m trying again  
maybe i should block you 
this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 
December 2021
i thought i saw you today but idk
couldn’t have been you cause if it was 
would you really not even say hi?
i’m done trying paige 
merry christmas i guess
March 2022 
i misz you 
lyke a wot
love uuuuu pppppp
even if ur a bwtich 
pkese pick up 
ignore that 
people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 
wait 
i don’t need to tell you that 
you already ignore it all anyways
 
August 2022 
i heard about the acl 
i’m sorry 
idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk
nvm 
***
September 2022 
When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 
Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  
“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 
“What are you doing here?”
Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 
“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”
“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”
Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 
 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”
“You talked to my dad?”
“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”
As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 
“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 
“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”
“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”
“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 
“That’s not what-”
“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”
“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.
Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.
“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”
“You don’t-”
“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”
The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.
The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.
“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”
In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 
“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 
“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”
Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 
“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”
Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”
“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 
“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 
Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”
She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”
“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 
“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  
“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”
“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”
“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 
“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”
“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 
***
When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 
“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  
“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”
“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”
“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”
It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”
To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 
“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”
“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 
“That’s not a thing.”
“Is too.”
“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”
“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.
*** 
Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 
“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 
“You wanna see my dorm?” 
“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”
“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”
“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 
“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 
“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 
“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 
“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”
Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 
They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.
“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 
“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 
It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 
“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”
Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 
“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 
“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 
“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”
“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”
“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 
The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 
It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 
“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”
“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 
“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”
Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.
“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”
“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 
***
That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.
November 2020
“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.
She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 
“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 
“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 
“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”
“Right.”
“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”
“They seem wonderful P.”
Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.
“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”
“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 
“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 
“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”
Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”
“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 
She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 
“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 
When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”
The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.
“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 
Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”
“What?”
“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”
Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 
“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”
Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”
“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.
“Paige-”
“Have you told UCLA yet?”
“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”
“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 
In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 
“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 
“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”
“Of course not-”
“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”
“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”
“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”
“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”
They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 
“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”
The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 
“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 
“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 
When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 
“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”
And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 
***
September 2022
After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 
On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 
When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 
“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 
“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”
“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”
Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”
“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 
Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 
And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 
“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 
“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”
Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”
Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 
“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”
“Butt dial.”
“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”
“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”
“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 
There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 
“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 
On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 
“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”
“Paige-”
“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”
“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”
“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 
“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”
“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”
***
Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 
What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 
The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.
“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 
“You having fun?” 
“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 
“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”
Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”
The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 
Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 
This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 
***
It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 
“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 
It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”
“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 
She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 
“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”
Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 
“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 
“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 
Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.
“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”
“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 
“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”
“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”
“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”
Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”
“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”
It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 
“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 
“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 
The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 
In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 
“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”
When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”
“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 
It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 
“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 
The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 
“Az-”
Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 
“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”
Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.
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dumpster-diving-rat · 9 months
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How I think bsd characters (Port Mafia) would react if you hugged them
(Not all members of the PM are here, just the ones I will write for)
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Ryunosuke Akutagawa
-Probably thought you were trying to attack him at first
-Literally almost used rashomon on you when you got closer
-And then you hugged him, and he freaked out x2
-Quietly hugs you back in some confusion
-"Why me?" he doesn't understand why you hugged him
-He's a little thankful you did though, it just means you aren't really afraid of him, or afraid of being near him
-Lets go after a while, quietly thanking you for the hug
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Higuchi Ichiyo (don't really plan on writing her too often but idk)
-Freaking out, blushing, and probably even fangirling all at once
-Hugging you back immediately, thinking about how this is one of the greatest moments ever
-Doesn't want to let go, but does after a few minutes
-Thanking you for the hug, trying to act normally without freaking out
-Happy for the rest of the day
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Chuuya Nakahara
-The most confused person on earth
-You just randomly walked up to him and hugged him? Now he's wondering what's going on
-Is this a type of prank? What're you trying to do?
-Confused yelling at you to ask what you're doing
-Slowly starts to hug you back
-Stays silent for a while and just stands there hugging you
-If you're shorter, he'll put his head on your head or shoulder, and if you're taller, his head is against or on your shoulder (by against I mean his forehead is close to your shoulder but not directly on it)
-Starts calming down a lot
-When you feel safe near someone you love, it can lead you to get tired and sleepy because of that safe state of mind
-Needless to say, he is very tired right now
-He is enjoying this moment a lot, and plans on doing this way more often with you
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Oda Sakunosuke (I don't really plan on writing him at all tbh, but I'll still put him here anyways because why not I had this idea at like 3 or 4 am)
-You were in the orphans room when you hugged him
-It surprised him slightly, but he hugged you back
-The kids noticed, and decided to attack you both with hugs as well
-You got knocked onto the floor with Oda, while the kids giggled and smiled and continued hugging you
-You started laughing too, and the kids basically surrounded you both while hugging you
-You couldn't really see, but a slight smile was on Oda's face while he continued to hug you and the kids
-He will definitely remember this
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Dazai Osamu (not the 15 arc, this is when he's 18 for clarification)
-If he knew you well enough, he'd let you hug him, honestly if he didn't know you that well he'd probably shove you off of him
-He doesn't exactly hug you back, he just let's you hug him and slightly rubs your back
-Doesn't really enjoy or not enjoy it, he's pretty conflicted with what he's feeling
-After a minute or so, he finally hugs you back
-He has one arm around your waist and the other closer to your shoulder, where your shoulder blade is
-He's hugging you pretty tightly, almost afraid to let you go
-If you're taller than him, his head is against your chest (closer to where your collarbone is) and if you're shorter than him, his chin is on your head
-The hug lasts for longer than expected because he doesn't want to let go, he doesn't want to lose you
-I can see him barely speaking during this hug, but also he might just start venting slightly while joking about his problems
-Might start asking for more hugs, probably even daily
-Enjoys the feeling of you hugging him, even if he didn't at first
Thank you for reading! If there's anything you'd like to request, you could message me or comment it. I have put off figuring out the ask box like the professional procrastinater I am, but I will figure it out soon enough hopefully. If you do request something, do not make it NSFW, noncon or dubcon, and no incest please. I hope you enjoyed reading this ♡
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blood-grove · 1 month
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odd adjustments
here -> part 2
adoptive!soap and ghost + adopted!reader
× pairing: soapghost
× summary: the now retired couple decides that there house is feeling a bit empty besides there two cats and german shepard.
× tws: medication, mentions of ptsd, angst, minor injuries, (idk what the adoption process is like so were just jumping into it) <- more relevant for the second part but still here for a tw :3
It was raining outside again,
You were busy packing up your clothes though along with Miss Sullivan who was just redoing your messy folding which you appreciated she was rambling on about some old story about her own kids all grown up and gone.
"This is a very big move for you y'know hun?"
"Yeah- I um know."
"There a very lovely couple y'know—"
"I know! I-" You paused shifting a bit as you sorted threw your sketchbooks.
"I know Miss Sullivan."
She sighed as she smiled her eyes crinkling as she turned to you.
"This is going to be a great home for you..There good people! I saw how you got along with them so well"
"Mhm-"
"Oh dear I just- I'm just so happy for you.." She sniffled as she tugged you into a crushing hug which you just mumbled your thanks.
You felt nauseous as you zipped up your bag but mentally decided throwing up in your future forever caretakers home would make it ever so harder to try and act like a normal kid around them.
Which you were also failing at.
But they didn't look normal either, Not in a offensive way at all.
They were a strange couple very warm and welcoming though when they met you the shorter one his name was John? You think he was really trying his hardest not to overstep and you liked that compared to other people who had very much been too much for you.
The other guy? Simon, You couldn't help but think the man looked intimidating but cool the both of you didn't talk much when they were letting each of them have one and one time with you but when you did talk it was nice it was clear he was more of a listener than a talker.
The both of them were nice, You found out they were ex-military but not much else it was briefly brought up and they moved onto the pets they had at home two cats one named Old man the other Gunpowder which you thought was a choice.
They also had a dog named Riley you forgot the breed she was but it was clear Simon seemed excited? nervous? You couldn't really read the man well at all not to say he was emotionless but he was just very hard to understand.
Your getting lost in your own thoughts again, You sighed as you pulled along your suitcase the wheel squeaking as you pulled it along you've had it for so long your surprised it hasn't fallen off.
Shifting uncomfortably you walked towards the main entrance Miss Sullivan walking beside you you were so zoned out you didn't even notice. When you made it to the lobby it was just Simon in the waiting room you which you were confused but they were adults and both probably had jobs you figured well paying ones you guessed from how quick the interview between them and Miss Sullivan went she clearly thought these men where the best option for you.
He noticed you both as he got up slipping his phone back into his pocket, He always seemed to wear a black face mask you guessed he had some kind of condition maybe a germaphobe? Would be weird to get a kid if that's the case maybe its not servere.
"Ohh I'm going miss you honey—" Before you could even slip away she was already pulling you into her infamous bear hugs nearly crushing the air out of you as she placed a kiss on your forehead thankfully not leaving a bright red kiss mark there.
"I-I'll miss you too Miss Sullivan-" You quietly gasped as she finally stopped hugging you and you took that que as to go over to Simon before she pulled you into another one.
"You have a a umbrella?"
You shook your head as you shifted you weren't technically lying the raggedy old one that you kept purely for memory now probably would fall apart if you tried to open it.
He hummed as he just pulled out a small fitting umbrella from his pocket handing it over as he sad something to Miss Sullivan you were paying attention as you figure out how to open the umbrella before Simon started walking back picking up with uncanny ease.
"You ready?"
"Mhm."
The ride to your new house was quiet Simon wasn't talkative along asking if you were alright and shortly explaining why John wasn't here something about getting your room ready and making a special lunch which you thought was a bit much but who were you to say no to free food?.
a/n; this will just have two parts :3
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enhastolemyheart · 1 year
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𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 — PARK SUNGHOON
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pairing | bf!sunghoon x reader (fem implied)
genre | est. relationship, shopping au
synopsis | wanting to revamp your closet, your boyfriend takes you out for a shopping date.
word count | 0.5k
warnings | idk uh cursing? suggestive(?) so read at ur own discretion (i swear it wasnt my intention to do so), proofread but lmk if any mistakes.
a/n | hihi!! I'm here with another hoon fic! this is rather on the shorter side sorry abt that. it shouldn't be surprising considering the amount of bias wrecking he did lately, like im scared when it's promotions szn or even the mv release ahhh but anyways hope you guys like this work! requests are open and so is the taglist!! reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated!! enjoy reading!!
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"Hey is this good?"
Your boyfriend looks up at you from his phone, scanning the dress you choose to try on. he breaks into a little smile when you sees a cute lavender sundress hugging your body in all the right places, flowing into a cute A-line skirt by your thighs.
"Woah..." He dazed off before bringing himself together with a smirk evident. "it looks so pretty on you baby." your face burned and you went back inside to change and show him another one of your picks. this one is definitely a yes.
Sunghoon finally got a break from his schedule, and you needed to revamp your closet. killing two birds with one stone, Sunghoon decided to take you shopping, donating all the clothing that doesn't fit you anymore.
You come back after changing into a bodycon dress this time, you wouldn't necessarily wear dresses, but the weather has been hot recently and you wanted to try being confident in dresses more. plus, Sunghoon loves to see you in dresses. The dress was hugging your curves in all the right places, looking very flattering on you, you blush on the thought his reaction.
You walk out and face him, shyly biting your lip, softly calling out his name, "Hoon?"
When he looks up, his eyes widened as they rake your body. your ears redden before him. he walks up to you, taking your hand in his and twirls you, doing a three-sixty. he bites his lips before looking into your eyes, "beautiful my love, take this." you giggle before nodding. he pouts his lips slightly as if to ask for a kiss, and so you lean in, kissing his lips. he holds your face in his hands, "why don't you try on the dress that I chose my love?" You nod as you turn and walk away, excitement bubbling inside your chest.
You feel sexy when you put the dress on, it was a tight and rather scandalous dress. there is a mini slit on the left side of the fabric that really add to the beauty of the dress. it was backless and it was pink in color too, you knew that you were going to try this on as soon as your boyfriend layed his eyes on it, smirking as he picks the right size and requests you to try it on. you save this piece for the last and hope that there won't be people watching when you see his reaction 'cause honestly, Sunghoon won't be able to control himself.
and that's exactly what played out and you find yourself pinned against the mirror wall, inside the dressing room, his hands roaming all over your body and yours tangled in his hair. as soon as he saw you, he immediately took a hold of your hips, pushing you backwards into your dressing room as he latches his lips onto yours into a hungry kiss. You were glad that no one else was outside to see the commotion happening.
"You look so fucking beautiful, my love. " You can hear the sincerity in his voice.
"Thank you, Hoon."
He takes your hand in his before looking into your eyes, "let's go home? I have planned something." You giggle at his words, fingers running through his hair to smooth it out.
"Yeah, let's go home."
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a/n | thank you all sm for reading! I wasn't even intending to make this suggestive but it just happend 😭😭but anyways, feedback and likes are highly appreciated! and I'll see you in the next one!
PEACE AND LOVE &lt;;33
perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup (send an ask to be added; bold can't be tagged)
© ENHASTOLEMYHEART ON TUMBLR, 2023 — do not translate, copy, modify, or repost any of my works as your own in any platform or form of use.
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kevcanwait · 22 days
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Felix is looking extra precious and this is what I'm doing with my cuteness aggression. His hair looks so pretty, he looks so pretty and adorable and it's just killing me.
Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 who gave me the idea. @heartbinn
Tags: Nn means nickname, Mn calls Felix Pixie, Mentions of Chan and a dash of Seungmin, The shortest amount of sad/comfort, not hurt/comfort though, angst? Maybe if you squint idk. Clingy, Lovey Felix, Vaguely shown that Mn is taller, My love for Felix kinda got in the way so Felix may give off Tiny Precious Bean vibes. The fluffiest of fluff.
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You nervously sat in the corner of the lobby. Even though he said you guys could've met up at a cafe, you were worried about fans seeing him. That's the only idol thing you've worried about, other than that he's still your Felix.
You were nervous because you felt really out of place in the JYPE lobby, not because you were nervous to see Felix. He's made sure to send you photos as he grew up away from you and with all the photos, the boy next door got cuter and cuter. He still had your favorite freckles and adorable face.
The recent photo solidified, as if it wasn't solidified already, how much you've grown to love the boy. You don't know when it happened but eventually you realized when he sent you a photo of the first time he dyed his hair. It was a photo of him laughing at something, he just looked so precious and happy and the moment you thought his freckles were cute, you honestly had a little bit of a crisis but that night when he called you to show his hair, looking so excited and happy, you realized the crisis was for nothing and you really did love Felix more than you thought.
A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts and nail biting as you looked up. He wore a black beanie, a few hair strands framing his face, and a black mask you could tell he was smiling under. Your whole body relaxed as you stand up and pull the shorter male into your arms, his arms wrapped around your middle as yours around his shoulders. You were still taller than him, you've always loved how fun sized he was.
"Hi Mn!" "Hi Pixie." He giggles softly, nuzzling further into your chest before pulling back, arms still around you while he bounces and the balls of his feet. "I can't believe you're here!! You're actually here! Sorry, Can you tell I'm happy?" He smiles and you laugh. "Yes, I can. I'm glad to see you again, Felix." "Me too. Come on, I really want you to meet the boys." He grabbed your hand but you didn't budge. "Mn?" "I'm already nervous from being in this building alone, I don't know about meeting your group."
"Mn, I know you and you match all of them so perfectly it's crazy. Plus~ You know Chan-Hyung is also from Australia. He loves you." "How?" His face turns red as he laughs softly. "I-I may or may not tell him everything about you...You're my best friend, I wanted my other friends to know about you too." "That's sweet...Okay, let's go." He squeals happily and you follow behind him. "Oh, forgot to mention, Chan is actually in the car too." "Felix!" "I'm sorry!" He laughs and you can't help but smile at him.
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Even though he said he wanted you to meet the others, he dragged you to his room once you got to his dorm. Chan was surprisingly really easy to converse with the whole car ride, might've been his natural friendly aura but his was so nice and the conversation flowed smoothly.
"What- Felix!" Chan yelled after the boy who just pulled you away. "Pixie, I thought you wanted me to meet the others?" You chuckle. "You will. I get my best friend first." He reasoned and you laugh as he pulls you into his room. He hugs you again, so tight as if he'll think you'll disappear from him. "Hey, you okay? Thought you were really excited to introduce me?" "I am. Just need a moment." "Oh okay."
Only a few seconds later, he started shaking and his hold on you got tighter. "Lix?" "I s-still can't believe I'm hugging you...th-that you're here..." He whispers before shifting, you barley see his face as his arms go around your neck and he's tightening his grip, you take the signal and tighten your own arms around his waist to pick him up and let his legs wrap around you. "Lixie?" "I-I wish we could be together forever." You knew he didn't mean it in the way you'd mean it but you smile nonetheless. "C-Can you...I wish y-you could stay h-here, now that y-you're here I don't w-want you to leave." "Aw, Pixie...I'm sorry."
He sniffs, pulling back to look at you. You were gonna put him down but could feel his legs were gonna collapse if you did when you moved your hands to hold him better. "Felix..." He was crying, moving one of his hands to wipe away the tears before he moved his legs and you sat him down. "I'm sorry." "It's okay, come here."
You move to his bed, sitting down and moving your legs enough for him to sit on the floor in front of you. He does as told and sits in front of you. You take off his beanie, putting it to the side before combing your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp. He hums contentedly and leans against your knee, you smile down at him before speaking. "Can I wash your hair like when we were kids?" "Only if I can with you." "Of course. I can also braid your hair after too."
You guys move to the bathroom, Felix holding your hand as you follow and a few of the boys watch after. "Are they friends?" Chan slaps Seungmin's arm with a scolding look on his face. "They are..." "but?" "but when we talked in the car and he was telling a story about Felix...I think Mn sees him as more."
You're sat on the toilet and Felix is laying on your lap, head over the tub and running under the faucet. He's talking about any little thing that comes to his mind as he points at his products. You caught yourself when you had slowed down massaging the product through his blonde strands and just listened to him talk cause the temptation to lean down and kiss his forehead was almost too much.
When it was your turn, you laid across the toilet while Felix kneeled next to you, using his products on you. He told you to tell him what you've been doing but you just stared at him without realizing. You did speak but it was slow and you paused a lot, just watching him. You noticed that there was a dust of blush of his freckles but you took that as just being in a warm room.
You dried eachothers hair and you sat on the edge of the tub and began french braiding his hair, he almost fell asleep before you finished and switch spots with him. The braid was kinda sloppy and he didn't really like it so he took it out and put your hair in his usual updo.
You guys walked out, no one was in the living room anymore and he pulled you to the couch, putting on a movie you thought was random until you heard the familiar sound of the movie you and Felix would watch nonstop as kids.
He sat you on the couch before running off then coming back with a blanket and a couple snacks. "You really had tonight planned." "Well, kind of. The cafe plan I had fell through from other reason but I thought just bringing you here was a better idea."
He sat close to you, crossing his legs as the movie began and you lean back, feeling really happy being with Felix again as you let Felix cover you up with the blanket he brought in.
Half way through the movie, Felix leans on your shoulder and takes your hand into his, playing with your fingers while his attention was still on the movie. You took the opportunity and held his hand in yours and laid down, pulling him with you to lay with you. "I might cry if we get cozy cause you can only stay for one day and we can't stay this way." He says as he leans above you. "Then I'll hold you the whole time, trust me I've been trying not to cry since you first hugged me when we got here."
He smiles, laying on your chest as you wrap your arms around his waist and shoulders, hugging him tightly in return to him snuggling further into you, his hand resting on your heart and you hope he can't feel how fast it's beating.
You subconsciously rub his back, the movie taking your attention back and it's not until the happy ending that you notice Felix is asleep, not hearing his usual comment of how adorable he always thought the end of the movie was. The end credit song plays as your eyes take in his features.
You move your hand from his back and up to his face, moving a loose strand of hair to the side before your finger traces over his freckles, a barely there touch so you don't wake him up as you move again and you get so lost in your thoughts about Felix you don't realize your thumb lightly brushing over his bottom lip. "Shit, I love you so much, Pixie..." Your eyes stung as you pull him closer and rest your forehead on his. "I love you more than I realized. You're so adorable and pretty...I'd confess to you if I didn't have to leave tomorrow..." You press your lips lightly to his forehead.
"You're so cute, Pixie..." You wrap your arms around his tightly again, lips pressed to the top of his head as you hold back your tears before you're pulling back as Felix moves. He sits up, you take notice of his glassy eyes when he opens his eyes and a soft coo escapes your lips. "Lixie..." "Please don't leave..." "I wouldn't have anywhere to stay. Plus, I have a job." "It's a fast food place, Mn-ie...And you can stay here." "I couldn't do that to you and your group. I'd get in the way." He shakes his head defiantly. "You wouldn't. I s-swear, you'd be fine h-here." "Even if I stayed here in your room, What would I do? I don't know Korean or anything." "You can help Chan...He knows about your music skills." "That's...too much, Felix. I can't."
Felix suddenly leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss as a noise of shock leaves you before you kiss back. He pushes forward, the soft kiss turning firm, your left hand moves up to cradle his face as he tilts his head and slides his tongue on your bottom lip but before you could let him, he pulled back and laid back on top of you, crying into your shoulder. "I-I'm s-sorry. I-I heard you...I love you, too, Nn. I-I didn't want to c-confess e-either. Th-That's why I want you to stay...a-at least stay for me? Y-You w-won't be in th-the way, I promise, just...please..."
Your tears finally fall as a soft sob slips past your lips and Felix sits back up, kissing your lips before holding your face in his small hands that shake slightly as he wipes your tears. "I-I can stay, Pixie...I will, okay? You swear I won't be in the way?" "I swear to JYP." You can't help but laugh and lean into his hand. "That's big." "I have you after years of being apart, I don't even think I would let you go if you did leave."
"I would have to go back at some point. I only have a bag with a days worth of clothing." "As long as I go with. I really don't want to leave you." "Good, you have to explain to my parents why I'm moving." He laughs, kissing you again and sliding his tongue past your lips to tangle with yours for a moment and a small whimper slips out of him before he pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. "Sorry..." He giggles shyly and all you do is laugh and wrap your arms around him, kissing his cheek before placing your hands on his thighs and sitting up, keeping him on your lap as you turn the tv off then standing up to take him to his room.
You lay him in his bed before falling on top of him. He laughs when you nuzzle into his neck and kiss his jaw, rolling over to move so he nuzzles into your neck instead, your arms squeezing him tightly as his wrap around your middle and he falls back asleep in your arms a little while later. You smile, kissing his forehead before you fell asleep as well.
The next day, Chan realizes he hadn't seen you all morning. It was noon and he hadn't seen Felix either. When he checked Felix's room, he saw you asleep and Felix laying on your chest, looking up at you with adoration as he gently traced your cheek then your bottom lip before lightly kissing your jaw.
Chan smiles, the thought of you having missed your flight gone from his mind as he pieces together that Felix must've told him he could stay. Knowing you, Chan does hope you two could have fun together cause he's aware of your music talents.
For now, he winks at Felix who finally notices him in the doorway before he leaves. Felix smiles into your chest and you subconsciously pull him even closer.
Felix didn't think it was possible, but he's even happier in this moment, in your arms, than he was when he debuted.
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teag-writes · 3 months
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Teachers Pet
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guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)
cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!
You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.  
After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way. 
Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl. 
You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-
“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you. 
“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble. 
He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester. 
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After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name. 
“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door. 
“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you. 
“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him. 
“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip. 
“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.” 
You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him. 
“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt. 
“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back. 
That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 
—————————
The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class. 
Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him. 
“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough.  “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson. 
By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again. 
“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again. 
“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him. 
“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.” 
You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.” 
He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard. 
“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck. 
“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat. 
“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?” 
You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly. 
“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)? 
“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out. 
“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do. 
“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp. 
“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it. 
“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact. 
“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.” 
You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt. 
The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers. 
“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him. 
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popponn · 8 months
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call you later; 2.
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notes: what if you didn't pick up their call? they left a voicemail, in their own ways. so we still got uh... aryu chigirin and im considering reo. idk who else will come later but i had fun writing this!! character: itoshi rin, bachira meguru. [ part 1 : isagi, sae, nagi ]
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itoshi rin
What did you do? This guy is the type to only left anything if it’s urgent, about nii-chan, or about football. Other than that high chances are they are actual death threats and you are not an exception.
Though, he can not deny that you are sort of his favorite in a way—won't admit that to your face too, though. That’s why he even bothers calling you and not just left a message or tell some poor soul to call you instead. While he probably feels a bit irked that you didn’t pick up, he will save the nagging when he finally met you face to face later. And even then, most of teammates will clarify that rather than nagging it’s more like his way of asking for your extra attention. It’s adorable, if you ignore the fact that the next movie night will definitely without a doubt would have to be a horror movie night just to cheer him up. Prayers and thoughts, if you dislike horror.
The message he will left is exactly like him, in a way. Rude, doesn’t have many words, but if you squints you could hear what sounds like a caring nosiness. While he isn’t the type to suddenly get clingy because of one unpicked-up call or thing about it too much, call him back soon as you can even if he didn’t say or rush you to do so. Would never say it to your face, but having you around him calms him down a lot and that includes your voice.
“Where are you right now?” Rin sounds like he was angry, as usual. “You better not be picking up problems left and right or I swear I will—”
A background noise that sounds like a chirpy teasing interrupted him, reminding him not to be so scary, which Rin replied with a snarling growl, “Shut up! And that wasn’t for you—I got a match so you better fucking watch it and fucking message me where you are while you are at it. I will get you home later so you better wait for me or else…..that’s all. Later. Next time don’t just go somewhere without telling me, stupid.”
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bachira meguru
Do you know how long of a voice message can someone left on an unpicked up call? If you don’t you will find out soon.
He probably would not really question why you are not picking up, but mostly because whenever you got separated he will always call you in the most ungodly timing possible just for chatting. Somehow. So, at this point, it has become more of a norm for you to not pick up and just call him again later. He is not being nosy, it’s just more of how he expresses his love—sharing literally everything with you. This has led to several one-sided awkwardness from your part between you and some of his teammates, but hey Bachira Meguru’s Hottest Soccer Gossips is a very important segment in your daily life with him.
Which being said, yeah, get ready. He will talk into the phone as if you were there replying to him—and indeed he always manage to predict how you will react. Listening to his voicemail during work is a good replacement for podcasts and such as in case you are bored by them. Though, sometimes, when he is in a rush and have to keep the message shorter than usual, it’s really sweet! He rarely manage to remind you to call him back though, as it feels like norm for you to do so. Don’t forget it, so you don’t get a Bachira Meguru species asking to be carried around for the whole day on the next holiday. He has muscles and those things are not light.
“So, so, so!” Meguru began with his chirpy voice, not leaving any greeting as usual. “Today Isagi and Chigirin kind of clowned and I really, really want to tell you that story—but I gotta go fast, so I will tell you at home later, okay?” Meguru worded out each word in a rushed manner, akin to an excited buzzing bee waiting to run somewhere with skips in his steps and ball for him to dribble.
“Last night I dreamt about Zico so I will definitely win today! But I also dreamt you were there bundled up because you got a fever. Not like I’m complaining if I get to take care of you with my specials, but stay healthy, ‘kay, ‘kay?” Meguru said, jokingly yet dotting. Then, immediately, he continued, “Oh, well! That’s all—I will call again later or you could! So, see ‘ya, Lovely! Love you! Muuuach!”
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lovelybeesthings · 5 months
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The one that got away 1
Coriolanus Snow x reader
Word count: 2.k
Warnings: idk?
Chapter 2
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(I’m sorry this like a time skip before the games)
“It’s me or Lucy are you willing to give your life away for her!” I said you wanted the plinth prize but it seems it’s a love show of Snow and Lucy grey” I say with a smile scoffing as I hold back tears “Your over reacting Y/N! I’m just trying to win you know my current situation you sound mad!” He spits back.
He doesn’t look back at me and bites his tongue and with that I know he’s made up his mind “her or me! Her or me please..” I say looking at him watery eyes rosy cheeks I swallow the pain in my throat “I wish you the best of luck and for her” I speak in a calm voice wiping my tears as I walk away my heels clicking to ground
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As I watch my tribute reaper gather the body’s one by one in the center of the arena my eyes begin to water his act of defiance takes a full on me and when he rips the capitols banner down to cover the body’s he looks into the cameras shouting I can’t control the tears in my eyes and walk away from the televisions and see Tigris’s at the exit smiling watching the tv.
I soon heard of the victory of Snow and Lucy grey I was happy for her win but I decided to not speak to Coriolanus and soon made my way home resting my head in my pink silk sheets as I change into a much compterable formal look negreo I knew it days began to fly then weeks I soon got heard of how Coriolanus was sent away to one of the distracts which hurt to here he really did anything for Lucy..
I put up my mask for every social event every gathering the perfect daughter of a well named man in the capitol but when I was home I locked myself in my room taking care of myself my mind slipping to the memories of Coriolanus white blond curls causing me to form sweat small smiles.
I was soon going on dates my mother and father had made for me I obliged some guys were sweet but stuck up or handsome and cocky I soon to think my soulmate had left and I’d have to be alone until one.. Devesh Sebastian the son of a politician he was different form the rest brownish locks that looked beautiful in the sun his eyes a light brown and sometimes gold if you looked at them in a right amount time his hair was long but a small pointy tail in the back leaving a few strand hair in the front, he dress himself nice white buttons up with a black tie black vest black coat and ideal man.
We soon got together and I brought up my heath curling hair with a bow light pink heels a white ish pinkish dress that’s beautiful land a white fur coat for an event a apply pinkish red lipstick and lip gloss (the ideal outfit it is in the bottom)
As I enter with Devesh my hand on his arm smiling giggling to his jokes and kiss him on the cheek and we part ways as I say hello to my parents and family friends and introduce myself to people I wonder what’s this event for I walk over to my mother “what’s this event for mother?” She soon reply’s in simple words “oh just this man reentering the capitol I think” she says as I nod and walk over to the drinks and grab two glasses of champagne and hear footsteps behind me.
“Oh sorry my dress is a big I’ll get out your way!” I say with a sweet smile “No need” a masculine voice responds that sounds familiar and I soon turn to face…Coriolanus snow but now his appearance is different his hair is cut shorter and styled some way back white colar red vest red coat red and red pants black shoes he’s cleaned himself so well “oh my Coriolanus! It’s so nice to see you once again!” I say with a sweet tone my voice like honey as I place down the glasses and hug him and grab the champagne glasses again.
“Y/n you look so beautiful this evening I thought I’d not see you until 20 years” he chuckles he mite look different but the way he is still feels the same “how’s it been I heard that you were sent to distract 12 to see Lucy?” I say as I’m confused on what happened “things changed different view points but I was able to come back to study under Dr. Volumnia” he speaks in a bold tone with a small smirk.
“Oh well I’m sorry to hear the part about Lucy but happy that it worked out in the end for you I have to go though bye! Croyo” I say as I walk away with the drinks in my hand to Devesh as he watches we walk away he clenches his fist as he sees me with another man thinking to him self who is that man is that her boyfriend did she not wait for me?
END OF PART ONE
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This is the dress ^. This is the fur coat ^
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cupcakeslushie · 1 month
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sorry for nagging you but i wanted to ask if you have some tips on making comics. I’ve trying making many comics but i always lose motivation and can’t seem to get past even the first panel sometimes.
I did make a pretty long post here, with some advice for starting out! But that’s more technical I guess, and it sounds like maybe you’re looking for some motivational advice? So in addition to that post, I’d say…
Don’t look at these panels where you’re stuck as failures. Look at them, instead, as first drafts!! Keep the early planning stages loose, so it doesn’t feel like an arrow to the heart if you have to make changes. Many artists need to see their thoughts collected somewhere before they can refine things and move on to the next stage. Another big thing is learning to be okay with throwing those drafts away when they become more of a roadblock than a step towards that awesome, final version you’ve got knocking around in your head.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent an hour plotting the composition of a panel…or maybe I’ve gotten too focused on the little details of a character’s expression, but the rest of the shot has just….idk died. I’ll copy and paste what I did like, and delete what’s not working or I’ll completely start over, no fuss. Wipe my hands of it and refuse to look at it as a failure. If I drew it once, I can draw it again! Practice isn’t time wasted, it’s time invested into growing! Drawing is drawing!
It’s always good to look back at your work, so you can see your improvement, but only focusing on your unfinished pieces might be doing more harm than good.
And maybe, you don’t have to draw a full 10 page comic from the get go! Try experimenting with shorter form comics! You can tell quite a number of stories in just a few panels! Learning the ins and outs of something new is a lot easier to accomplish when it’s done in smaller increments. That way you can have that feeling of success more often and it’ll motivate you into not giving up!
When I started EW, I was doing parts in like, one or two pages! Because I was still nailing down the comic techniques I wanted to employ. I was gathering brushes and learning how and when to use them! Learning how to create compositions that worked around dialogue bubbles! All the boring parts of comic creating lol. But then, the more comfortable I became with those techniques, the less time they took, and I could really go wild with the creative aspect! Now my updates are much longer!
It’s just a process. But at some point, all the advice and resources in the world can only help so much. You have to be willing to put in the time!
I’d say it’s kinda similar advice they give when you start working out. When you’re first starting, and you try to do more than your body is comfortable with, you’ll be in a lot of pain and won’t want to continue. It’s easy to give up if you’re not seeing results and you feel like you’re wasting your time. But if you start in a reasonable place, and let yourself learn as you go, then you can gain good habits and it’ll get easier!
And only then, when it’s easy, that’s when you challenge yourself! Not when you’re already struggling with just starting! Or it won’t be fun and all of your drive will disappear!
And that’s really what you’re doing this all for, right? For fun!
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