#all of my docs are bullet points and no fic
Text
Clean Cut
Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, anxiety, worry, car accidents. Slightly angsty.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Okay so I just caught up with all The Rookie seasons and I’m just LIVING for Chenford. Like LIVING. buuuuuut I noticed there wasn’t much Tim x Reader fic out there soooooo I figured why not! This idea came to my head at some point when I was watching and I also have like a whole story of their life beyond and before this moment but enjoy this little reworked snippet from 2x08.
The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
It had felt like a long day already and you had only been clocked in at the hospital for two hours. You still had 10 hours left in your shift and it felt like you experienced a whole day’s worth already. Being a corpsman for a Marine squad prepared you for a lot but sometimes the uniqueness of LA and the people who resided in it and tended to need your RN medical services at St. Stevens ran you for your money.
Currently, you were updating patient charts during the lull that was likely to last all of two seconds but it beat staying an extra hour to finish your paperwork likely unpaid because the hospital rarely approved overtime for RNs.
“Wanna tell me why it’s so crazy for a Tuesday?”
The statement from your coworker caused you to look at them over your shoulder and let out a laugh.
“I wish I had an answer to that, but I also feel like anything I say will jinx it even more.” You pushed the computer cart against the wall and moved over to your coworkers cart. “You’ve got like 15 pages here, what is this?” You picked up the manila folder that was larger than your normal ER patient folders.
“Police car accident. There’s a few of them in the ER right now, these things always include tons of paperwork. Everyone needs to cover their asses.”
Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of a police accident but what really caused you to go into panic mode was seeing your husband's name on the report.
Before you could even answer your co-worker you were moving down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long. You knew the elevator would probably be quicker but the thought of standing still while you waited for and in it would drive your mind crazy so rushing down the stairs was the better alternative.
Tim was sitting on one of the ER beds, the scene of it caused you to stop for a minute. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Tim hurt waiting to be treated. In all honesty this was probably the tamest medical treatment scenario you two had been in together. He looked fine from afar, but that didn’t stop the worry from boiling in your gut.
“What happened?” You were next to him within seconds, the worry being the fuel of moving you from the staircase entrance to his side in seconds.
“I rear ended a civilian.” Tim knew better than to try and calm you down with pleasantries and relaxing mantras.
“Jesus.” Your hand moved to your pocket in search of your pen light. Quickly, you flashed it in front of his eyes, searching for his eyes to constrict and then dilate when you moved the light away.
“They already did this.” Tim’s voice was neutral, but you knew he was annoyed.
“Humor me.” Your head tilted, now your own annoyance was clear to him.
His eyes softened as they met yours and he nodded which gave you the okay to keep running through the trauma checklist in your head.
“This isn’t like you.” Tim said after a few minutes of silence between you as he humored you by lifting up his arms as you pressed down on his ribs and checked his reflexes.
“In what way?” You talked as you continued to look him over.
“I’ve come home and told you I’ve gotten shot at and you barely react, I tell you that I got into a car accident and you’re acting like I have internal bleeding.” Tim’s eyebrows raised.
“Did they do a CT scan? You could have internal bleeding. Especially if the airbags went off.”
“Doc.” The use of the nickname only 13 people in the world knew you as caused you to stop your examination of Tim and stand in front of him, slightly defeated.
“If I worried about every close call you encounter everyday, I’d be dysfunctional. This.” You pointed towards him and the bed, “This is tangible. This actually happened.”
Tim nodded and a smirk slightly filled his face.
“You doubtin’ me, Sarge?” You frowned as you asked him, using your own nickname for him.
“No,” Tim let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back up at you. “I know better than to ever doubt you.”
“Smart man.” Officer Lopez walked up to the two of you with a smile. “How’s he doin’?” She looked between the both of you.
“He’s fine. No signs of a concussion,” you looked at Angela and then back at Tim, “and no signs of internal bleeding.” You smirked at him knowing he was going to give you one back.
“Give us a minute, Lopez?” Tim stood up and ripped the hospital bracelet off his wrist.
“Yea, just wanted to let you know the break lights were cut in the car you hit, foul play, you’ll likely be in the clear.” She explained while looking at the both of you, relief coming as a sigh from both you and Tim. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She nodded at him and squeezed your arm to say goodbye before leaving the ER.
“We goin’ back to the conversation we were having or a new one?” You asked Tim as he towered over you.
“You pulled shrapnel out of my abdomen in Afghanistan and you look more worried checking me for a concussion.” Tim said with his arms crossed. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Your one worded answer wasn’t convincing.
“Don’t lie to me.” Tim said more seriously than any of his other statements.
You sighed, “Like I said, this is tangible. In Afghanistan, we weren’t exactly given the space to worry. Here, I feel like it’s all I have to hold onto. But again, if I held onto every worry I’d be dysfunctional. I know you can handle yourself when bullets are flying, when shit goes sideways, it’s these out of your control scenarios that just get me flustered.” You explained moving your hands around as you talked.
Tim brought you in for a hug, knowing nothing he’d say could change anything. “You do realize, I’m the one that rear-ended the civilian, not the other way around, right? Totally in my control.” He teased you.
“Not according to Angela.” You corrected him and he chuckled.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of your head.
“See you tonight, I already texted Angela all the concussion signs in case we missed anything.” Letting your last bit of worry out.
“You haven’t missed a single diagnosis or injury since I met you, Doc!” He called out from a few feet from you.
“You know, I’m technically not a doc, anymore, Sarge!” You yelled out to him.
He turned around with his arms up as he continued to walk backwards. “And I’m not technically a Sargeant anymore.”
“Old habits die hard!” You yelled back just before the elevator doors opened and he stepped backwards into the elevator flashing you a quick smile before the doors closed and he was back on duty.
#Tim Bradford#Tim Bradford x Reader#Tim Bradford x F!Reader#The Rookie#The Rookie Fanfiction#The Rookie Fanfic#The Rookie Tim Bradford#Tim Bradford Fanfic#Tim Bradford Fanfiction#Timothy Bradford
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Dense, it looks like you need enrichment in your enclosure, so I thought I'd let you know that I've gone feral for your Dreamling Dads AU. There's like 3 oneshots drafted on my computer. There's a 20K+ longshot fic worked out in bullet points. There's Kian and Matthew playing pranks on Dream. There's a holiday special with family Christmas Cards. There's eldritch powers. There's quality parenting.
Your Kian took over my NaNoWriMo gosh dang it I was supposed to be working on something else.
And yet. Here I am, with a 7000+ word doc filled with thoughts and ideas about this baby boy and his eldritch dad and his slightly less-eldritch dad.
I really want to post something soon, I'll be sure to let you know if I can actually pencil it in amidst the New Years heyday.
This just literally made my entire day I'm going to weep openly wtf??? Inflicting Kian and his Centennial Dads on this fandom has been such a treat for me, and that you guys seem to actually be enjoying it makes me absolutely feral!! I cannot WAIT to read just, all of that?? That is so wild and I'm going to be champing at the bit now. Definitely let me know if/when you share any of it 💕
Have a quicky 2am sketch as a treat!! (kian thanks u for your love)
#brb crying#dreamling#kian gadling#dreamling dads!au#asks#ask reply#classic-blue#look i got this ask on the eve of an appointment Ive been really really dreading#and it was so sweet and i want to just roll around in the love of the dreamling fandom#thank you classic!!!
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readder takes a bullet for izzy. need this fic asap. omfg. did u want finale yet???
Izzy x Reader
words: 1700
google docs pages: 3
warnings: ! S2E8 Spoilers (Kinda?) ! Gunshot wound, mentions of smoking and drinking, blood, death
opening: Ricky turns to fire his pistol and run, but you saw it coming and push Izzy out of the way.
AN// Reader can be any gender! I can’t even lie, my angst loving heart was highkey excited for this one XD Thank you for the request, I love writing stuff like this !! This shall also heal my soul after watching ep8, I’m still a mess from it waaa
“I’ll wait for you”
The long ferns dragged along the freshly stolen British navy coat as you made your way towards the shore with the rest of the crew. Your palm was around the handle of your sword, still convinced that this was a clear suicide mission. There seemed to be absolutely no chance for the whole crew to make it alive all the way to the ship and to make an escape. The Republic of Pirates was swarming with British soldiers, every corner being watched and checked actively. Though, you weren’t going to try and stay here either. You’d rather die as a pirate than get captured and be hung by the British.
Izzy marched a little ahead of you with Ricky. You weren’t sure why he had been put in charge of the man, but there was no use in asking for him to hand over the job to you. He was still the first mate, and as loyal as he was he continued on with his duties. You weren’t scared for his sake, he was most certainly a more skilled fighter and a sailor than you were. But there was always the what if, at the back of your mind. As far as you knew, the whole area was surrounded by British soldiers. Each and every time you’d peeked to take a fast look, at least three men stood near with their guns. So the odds of one of them spotting the group and shooting weren’t nonexistent.
Blackbeard and Izzy had a long history together, but so did you and him. From what you’d talked with Izzy, you’d joined the crew only a short time after him. The man wasn’t even the first mate just yet, which was one of the reasons why you’d dared to start chatting with him in the first place. By God, you wouldn’t have started hitting up someone in a much higher position in the crew just after joining. But there had started your decades long, complicated relationship. He’d always been a little snappish, and that had only amplified once he was given the position as first mate. But every time you’d been with him at the sidelines where he usually spent his time, he was just slightly different. He was the same man, but like there was less of a wall he had to keep up. So because he was seemingly comfortable with you around, you sometimes spent time with him. Share cigarettes, watched him carve figures out of small pieces of wood, whatever he was doing. Sometimes there were no words, just silent companionship. At times the air felt tense, and at some point that wasn’t just an itch you had sometimes. There was real tension, but neither of you addressed it. All the way up until you’d sat down to drink a bottle or two of rum with him. There were not many memories of said night, just one of the tension breaking kiss you’d shared with him. And of course the morning after, and the days that followed. The silence that suggested the both of you being at loss of what to do next.
Your eyes focused on the soldiers in front of you, listening to Ricky speak to them as he’d been told to before. So far the plan was going as intended, but that wouldn’t last for much longer. The prince swung around, alerted the soldiers that the group he was with were pirates and pulled out his pistol. Your eyes widened and without more than a second to think you pushed the man next to you. There wasn’t time to check if he'd landed okay, since that hadn’t been a part of your plan, only to get him out of the bullet’s way. You heard the thud as he fell over, and soon after followed one of the most agonizing pain you could have imagined. The bullet must have hit you instead. There was no time to properly locate where it had hit, but you didn’t have to just yet. As long as you could somewhat walk, that was enough, since after you’d made it to the ship you could take a look at the damage.
The rest of the unit had heard the gunshot and were hurrying to the scene. You reached out and offered a hand for Izzy, the other hand holding the spot you could see blood seeping through. He took a hold of your hand, noticing that something was clearly wrong. You could see his mouth open slightly, but before he was able to question you, you let go of his hand and pushed him forward by his back. “Fuck off, go!” You growled, eyes scanning the area for the easiest way out.
The walk to the shore was a blur. You could tell you were stumbling, even the smallest of rocks getting in your way. Izzy was walking in front of you, but you could tell he was stalling more than a person running for their life would. “Did I not tell you to go?” You snarled a little at the stinging pain, now more obvious that it was coming from somewhere deep near your side. You wished he would have just followed the others, gotten away faster. But this brand new version of him wouldn’t do that to you, to anyone from the crew for that matter. You’d been proud of him through his change, but this was not the time for him to care about you. “Come on, I’m not leaving you here.” He paused enough to get you closer to him, and hoisted you up a little by your arm. “Fuck you.” You cursed, trying to walk a little faster now that he was helping you.
The boat ride felt like forever, and as each of the waves hit the boat the stings of pain just felt worse and worse. You felt light headed and even without noticing you leaned on Izzy just a little more for support. He stiffened up, but kept you in place so you wouldn’t accidentally lean over the edge. You could have sworn you felt his thumb repetitively go over your forearm, as if to keep some sense in the moment .
Izzy got out of the boats first, and with the help of the others he got your form on the main deck. The first mate tore off his coat, laying it flat on the wooden deck before leaning your head over his lap. You could feel cold sweat creep onto your forehead and back, breaths shallow and quick. It was only now setting in what had happened, but you tried to bite back the feelings of panic. You felt Izzy tap your cheek, making your eyes land on his face. Some dirt had stuck to his face from the fall he’d taken because of you, you thought to yourself. “Come on, stay awake.” Izzy said, his voice a little shaken, but the same old commanding tone somewhere in there. “Oh, you’ll be fine, you carouser.” A groan left your throat, making you close your eyes for a moment. You didn’t feel like opening them after, but you did. You did when Izzy’s hand made contact with your cheek again.
Before this you’d thought of the crew members watching. You’d noticed they were around Izzy, some of them hurrying to get anything to help. Though, you knew this was the day you’d feed the fish. Izzy’s expression looked tight. Like he wanted to cry, but tried not to for your sake. He was hunched over your form as his eyes watered. “Aye, now. Don’t hang the jib. You’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. He’d changed so much, gotten to see how much the crew actually cared about him. He’d be just fine even if you weren’t there with him to stand at the sidelines. Only if he could see that as well. “You don’t do this now, ye fucking hear me?” He said, brows furrowed. You looked at him, his eyes. He looked oddly blurry, your head was spinning from the lost blood. Though, you didn’t mention it to him. “I’m not going anywhere.” You grit your teeth, finding breathing a lot harder than it had been before. You wanted to go, if that meant the struggle would finally end. “But even if I did, I’d be leaving you with the…best possible people.”
Your gaze stayed on Izzy, trying to follow his lips in case you missed something he said. But he was silent, like he was holding back something. The first mate swallowed uncomfortably, leaning over carefully, just to hide his words from anyone else. “You need to tell me if you-” He started, but that was enough. A faint smile appeared on your face. “Of course I fucking love you.” You said, for his sake silently, but you didn’t find it in you to speak any louder anymore. Izzy froze for a moment, some tension leaving his shoulders as he nodded. It was subtle, but as long as you’d known him you’d learned to find even the most minimalistic emotions from his face. His jaw trembled, but his mouth opened and he silently replied; “I love you.” Which was enough for you, more than so. But at that moment, you hoped those words would have been said earlier. Then maybe, just maybe everything could have been different. “I’ll wait for you.” You said, the struggle starting to feel better, like it was coming to an end. Izzy’s face blurred into a soft darkness, which slowly became the only thing still holding you.
AN// Requests for Izzy are open, I love writing for him ahhh >:(
#izzy hands x reader#izzy hands#israel hands#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd x reader#our flag means death x reader#x reader#fanfic#izzy hands beloved#yar har I love pirates
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Part 3: Shades of Grey
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)
(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always
Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)
TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!
August 2021
The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop.
“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”
Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”
“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh.
“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”
“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”
Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispers.
Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”
“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”
“Watch your fucking mouth-”
“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word.
Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister.
“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”
“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”
“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”
“I didn’t lie about anything.”
Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’, all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”
“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”
“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”
“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in.
“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”
“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet.
“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door.
“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think I wanna be friends.”
When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken.
***
July 2023
Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch.
When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s.
Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared.
“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together.
“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch.
Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”
“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously.
“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”
The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days.
“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant.
“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”
“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”
It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant.
“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent.
“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”
“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”
“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”
“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”
“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”
Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions.
“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”
“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”
She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out.
“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”
The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it.
“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”
Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?”
Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight.
“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”
Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”
Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-
“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige.
“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment.
Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom.
There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.
She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”
“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”
“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm.
“Stop lying,” Paige bites out.
“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.
“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief.
“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”
“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”
“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers.
Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”
“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.”
“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”
The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her.
“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”
“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline.
“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”
Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.
Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine.
“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine.
A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm.
“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them.
“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants.
“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”
Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”
It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above.
“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies.
“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”
Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-
“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately, against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction.
“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”
As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw.
“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together.
Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked.
“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers-
“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls.
“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door, “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”
“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”
“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”
“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”
Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey.
“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly.
There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”
“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself
“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly.
“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”
“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.
There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”
Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her.
“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her.
“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”
Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart.
“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up.
“Paige I-”
“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her.
***
November 2023
UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury.
The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have.
It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins.
Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little.
“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.
Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”
They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart.
***
UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.
It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow.
Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them.
“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”
“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises.
“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?
“Right, right, continue.”
“Well now I don’t want to.”
Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary.
“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously.
“Fresh air.”
“And?”
Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”
“It always feels like that at the beginning.”
“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”
“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you his hardest battles, right?”
“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”
“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”
“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”
Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right, and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.
“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”
I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me.
“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them.
“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue.
“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”
“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”
“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”
“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”
“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-”
“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”
“Paige-”
“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue.
In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But-
“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”
The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync.
“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face.
The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”
“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”
If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees.
Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up.
“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same.
The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone.
“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately.
“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck.
“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”
“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.
Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch, “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows.
“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”
Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”
Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”
She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.
“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”
Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips.
“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”
Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress.
“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”
Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge.
“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”
“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer.
There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles.
***
Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob.
She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.
And then she gets up and goes on with her day.
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can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?
ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.
i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy
all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.
i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?
adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.
how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?
and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?
i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.
as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.
it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now
ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.
thank you for asking!! mwah<3
#thirteen#anna rambles#asks#sorry for writing SO MUCH#in my defense i’m sleepy#and i just started rambling#adrien agreste…..kissing your forehead my love. tucking you into bed. agreeing with you about tamaharu#i don’t even know if this answered the question this is just truly my process#the process is that i think about adrien agreste and then write it down#ml
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Tell us about the planning doc!!!
thank you very much for indulging me HAHA
So I started writing the planning doc like. When I really shouldn't have LMAO- I wasn't busy right then, but I was absolutely about to be. Oh well! What's done is done.
The planning doc is, essentially, a full outline of all the plot of fftsr, told exclusively in dumb jokes and memes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Or, well, more accurately, a dumping ground for all my ideas in chronological order, marked with dates and some (emphasis on SOME lmao) of the confidant rank ups for Akechi and Ren.
I'll share some of the outline already written in chapters to get my point across: (UH MAJOR AND MINOR SPOILORS FOR FAITH FOR THE SECOND RUN- earlier chapters, mostly)
As you can see, not everything from the doc makes the cut. Sometimes things just don't work anymore, or I can't quite find a place to shoehorn it. I'm pretty sure a line showing how Sumire was struggling without a team never made it into the chapter- or, if it did, it was so negligible that it doesn't even matter.
Plus, I definitely hadn't figured out all the scene-by-scene POV's by that point. The "April 18" bullet point implies that scene might have taken place from Sumire's POV, but the final chapter actually has it as Ren's.
I also put all my Metaverse powerpoint slide intermittently as they become relavent. I'm not actually sure if this explanation ever made it into a chapter... I think Akechi might have implied it? But I don't think it was ever spelled out, since I couldn't find a smooth way to do it. Oh well! Here it is now!
There's also outlines of character conversations and motivations, as expected. The level of detail within the planning doc is VERY uh. Well, it's dependant on a lot of things. There are some major beats that I just hadn't thought of until writing the actual chapters, but some of the character-related convos that are more centred to the plot got written down pre-writing chapter 1
From memory, I think the above scene also changed slightly in the final fic. Sometimes what I write as character motivations in the planning doc ends up being VERY DIFFERENT by the time I get to the actual chapter. And, sometimes, the characters just run away with a scene HAHA
Speaking of character convos, some of my jokes in the planning doc made it, almost word for word, into the fic's chapters. Akechi hysterically wondering if Rank 3 is the "deepest darkest secrets" Rank Up is something that I wanted to immortalise lmao
As you can also see, though, not all of the confidant rank-ups were planned- Magician rank 2 is implied, but I didn't actually know what it was going to be at the time.
And then there's the confidants I didn't have planned at ALL:
(UH SPOILERS UP UNTIL CHAPTER 46)
The Tower and the Aeon are the worst offenders of this: I retroactivaly added the Aeon into the planning doc- an easy feat, since it coincides with the Justice, but just know that it absolutely wasn't there originally lmao. The Aeon came about in two stages, if I'm remembering correctly- I wrote the dream sequence where Ren didn't remember shit, but some vision of Crow was there and did remember, pretty much on a whim, and then thought "okay what if that kept happening though"
I think that descision was one of the best things I could have done lmao- it made October third MUCH more exciting to write (and, I assume, to read)... (originally Metatron was not a factor in the boys remembering- just some annoying headaches and visions. Shadow Maruki was also a last-second addition! While Ren was off galivanting with Crow, I wanted to give Goro something interesting to do as well. So! Impromptu therapy session)
Now the Tower... I did have some. uh. Plans, for cognitive Akechi right from the start; I can't remember my exact thought process for when I started cooking for this confidant, but I think I saw a comment on Throw Away Your Mask explaining why the Tower was particularly apt for the character it's used for in that fic, and thought "wait I can cook with this". or something HAHA I can't quite remember. (I was also VERY MUCH inspired by Marigolds and A Tale of Two Tricksters for all of that... (love those fics you should read them if you haven't))
All of the PT's rank ups are missing from the planning doc, too. I knew I wanted to have all of them as confidants, but I had no idea what their arcana was going to be, or when those confidants would start or rank up.
I unfortuantly can't share some of my best jokes from the planning doc, since I'm joking about MAJOR SPOILERS from future chapters HA
ty very much for letting me gush lmao <3 <3 <3
#ask#fftsr#I was a little afraid someone would ask me this question and I'd forget every thought I've ever had about my fic#but word vomit has been achieved!
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Hi!
I have had a block for both writing and drawing for several years. I look at your works with longing in my eyes and think how wonderful it would be to draw regularly again. I was never particularly talented and had many gaps in learning to draw, but I enjoyed it. Now I don't know how to start drawing or writing. My laptop is full of unfinished stories. I have lots of ideas for drawings, but it's hard for me to get down to work.
Therefore, my question is:
Do you have any advice for people who haven't drawn/written for several years and would really like to get back to it, but can't motivate themselves, have no ideas, etc.? Or quite the opposite. They have lots of ideas, but for some reason they can't draw anything?
Greetings and have a nice morning/day/evening/night!
Hello! Sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted to make sure I could respond properly to this so I thought it over a lot, I’m going to put it under a read more cuz it’s gonna get long lol
I (sly) am kinda in the same position as you at least when it comes more to art, writing ive kinda cracked the block but still trying to break through the ice, all the art on our blog is Ferals art, I only complete the line work and shading (but not always) I haven’t drawn any of my own stuff in probably a few years but I’m trying to get back into it cuz I miss it as well, I completely get the whole feeling of looking at Feral’s art and wanting to create my own but finding it so difficult to do
For the art aspect my plan is to start at square 1, start how I first starting drawing, which for me was to look up refs, animals and draw them by sight, just to get back into the groove of trying to bring back that muscle memory, maybe you started by tracing images, you could trace only the rough outlines and then shade and detail them, just something simply and easy, you probably won’t be happy with the results (I know I certainly won’t be with my own) but it’s a start
Look up things that you enjoy, draw your squad, incorrect quotes to do with ocs maybe even draw them out, try and keep it simple, you don’t need to create a masterpiece on the first day back, any attempt is a step forward even if you dislike it, try it out at least once a day everyday, a simple doodle just for fun or to exercise your muscle memory again, the first part is gonna be hard and messy, that’s totally ok! All that matters is the attempt!
For the writing aspect try and keep it simple as well, focus on making short one-shots or even just bullet point dialogues, your old unfinished writing isn’t going anywhere, when you feel comfortable enough to attempt to continue it just go for it!
I had a big gap in my writing periods and sometimes I still go a few months with out touching any of my stories, blocks happen and are normal, something that I try to get back into is read other people’s work, both to see the writing style and to get some inspiration to continue my own works
When I actually get down to actually writing my story I just dump down the story as I think it, I just keep writing even if it looks messy and grammatically incorrect to at least get the story moving and progressing. After I have the rough story down, is when I go back to correct spelling mistakes, add more details/dialogues or events in between to create a much better flow for the story
I usually do this multiple times for each fic I create, usually in between pauses (either due to blanking on ideas or just cuz I wasn’t feeling it) so whenever I reopen my doc, I just reread and add on, then I do it again one or two more times once it’s completed
I struggle a lot with perfectionism when it comes to my art and writing, and unfortunately it’s a big killer for my motivation, especially when I see others that make better works than me. I’ve been slowly unlearning that urge to make everything perfect, by just allowing myself to have messy and rough works, it’s not always going to come out how I want it but at least I got it as close as I could in the moment with my current skill level
I like to tell myself, the more I keep doing it, the more I’ll improve, and I’ll always be able to come back with more ideas and skill to remake this better than my first attempts, just because I did it doesn’t mean I can’t try to do it again
Being easier on yourself does wonders (I know easier said than done unfortunately 😭) but your practically having to relearn skills that have gotten rusty, even if you were doing great before, your gonna have to build back up to that point, it’s just like exercising a muscle ✨
I hope this was able to help! I wish you much luck in your journey back into art and writing!
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Some advice on how to write a long form fic and actually stick with it / survive.
In writing communities, you will hear that there are two main types of writers. Planners/pantsers or architects/gardeners are some of the common names for the types, but basically either you make meticulous notes and plan the entire story out before starting, or you start with an idea and make it up as you go. (Pantsing comes from the phrase "by the seat of your pants".)
Note that these aren't black and white categories; MOST writers will fall in between, but that's normal with most types of things. I started out with a pantser/gardener inclination; I had a cool idea and I posted the first chapter with NO idea where I was going next.
What I learned in that decade of writing was that this will not get you through long pieces of work in a satisfying way. Character arcs are hard to get right, thematical consistency and payoff can happen but it's more luck and chance than your actual skill as a writer. There's always a few geniuses that can do it, but I do not recommend trying to stick to this method alone.
I fall significantly more in between these as a more mature writer after trying and failing at gardening alone. When I posted Like Father Like Son, I went and typed out one bullet point for each chapter I thought I would write. There were 13 planned chapters, so obviously this plan was not accurate – except I have remained true to almost all of the general plot points I had written down in January 2020 at the current time of September 2022. I just expanded on the plot by a significant amount.
As I got used to the tone and got more inspired, I came up with the idea to utilize arcs to break the story down farther. I decided 6 arcs felt right, with a vague idea of what each one would entail, and as I started each arc I would go back in and bullet point what I thought each chapter would be like in more detail. Things still had room to change and grow once I saw where each arc took me, but it is much less daunting to plan 7 chapters at a time instead of 40. It still gave me time to change the little things and have fun seeing where each chapter took me, but it also never left me stranded with no idea where I was trying to swim.
Once I hit the big climax / turning point, which is in Chapter 21: Flatline, I changed tactics a little. I've kept a doc where I write out scenes that I was too excited to wait for, and had accumulated about 20 different little scenes with no order. I put them all on sticky notes and grouped them until I got a clear path, and then I went and solidified the last three arcs in order to get character arcs and themes tied off in a satisfactory way. I had given myself enough time to really think about what I wanted to do, and now that I knew where I currently stood it felt effortless to fill out.
Now. Planning advice aside, how do you actually write a long fic? You will need two main things.
Stamina. This is a skill in and of itself, and unless you have completed at least a novel-length story before, you are new to it! This muscle isn't developed! The best way to throw yourself into training it would be challenging NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in either November or July. In thirty days, you have to write 50k which pans out to 1,667 words a day. I have challenged and won it twice. I totally pantsed both times, which means I think both novels I wrote are severely lacking in quality, but they absolutely trained me to think on my feet and just push through writer's block. It's grueling and at times painful, but the feeling of crossing the 50k mark on November 30th? That's why I've stuck with writing. Genuinely it is worth doing at least once, you WILL become a better writer even if that piece of work itself is a mess.
Find something you are wildly excited to write in every single chapter. Yes, every single one. You tend to start a story very excited about a few select scenes, but when I start a chapter I try and find at least part of it that I am SO excited to type. This will give you energy and I think people can tell when you actually are enjoying writing rather than slogging through it. Bored of the chapter you're writing? Back to the drawing board, there IS a better way to get from points A to C. Even one chapter I wasn't interested in in between two I loved could make me procrastinate for months instead of just enjoying getting back into the writing.
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This brainworm is lovingly called ‘Who’s your daddy?’ in my avatar prompt word doc.
Note: This is a potential fic idea if people are interested in seeing it in full.
DO NOT steal or I’m crawling under your mattress tonight.
Summary: Tuk wraps the recoms around her little finger. A play date with the enemy.
Context: The recoms got revived and sent into the forest. Mansk got briefly separated from his squad, he could still hear them close by, but he couldn’t see them.
Tuk got separated from her siblings and was wandering aimlessly around the forest until a recom stumbled across her (probably Mansk) who was scared shitless by her. Despite her tiny stature, this man has to have some form of PTSD after dying to the na’vi.
Tuk doesn’t give a shit that this weird man is dressed in RDA military wear or that she can’t see his eyes - those sunglasses are GLUED to his face, no wind could possibly remove them - nor that he carries a gun longer than she is tall. All she sees is an adult that’s capable of protecting her and helping her back home. Close to tears, she holds her hands out and makes grabby hands up at Mansk who is just furiously backpedalling trying to get away from her.
His panic makes her panic and she runs after him assuming there’s a thanator or something that spooked him. Still crying. Still grabbing at his pant legs or tail. Whatever is in reach.
Mansk trips on a root or something, and Tuk flings herself down into his lap, latching on tight and squirming to get his arms around her and the soldier is just frozen solid. He’s not breathing. He’s not blinking. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He doesn’t do kids. He doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do with them, let alone how to comfort one. His nieces back on earth wanted nothing to do with him. And here is this na’vi child sobbing into his bullet proof vest like he’s her dad or something.
Hesitantly, he brings up his hands and awkwardly pats her on the back, which just makes her cry harder and he wants to disappear.
One thing leads to another and he manages to get his feet back under him and has the little na’vi cradled to his chest. She’s stopped crying, cheek pressed into his shoulder with her fingers curled tight into his shirt.
Just Mansk regrouping with the squad cradling a literal child.
Wainfleet is like: when did you have the time?
And Quaritch is a tired Dad, now Grandpa.
Anyway, within hours, Tuk has the entire Deja Blue Squad wrapped around her little finger. They’re bringing her fruit. Z-Dog has discovered all the ways to make her laugh. Fike is just as confused as Mansk because Tuk has decided he must also hold her because her feet got tired.
And the whole time, she pretends not to know English, just grins evilly as these adults scramble to figure out a plan since the RDA is going to want to confiscate her if she goes back with them. Then there’s a full blown argument about taking her back to her clan and how long it would take. Not even Tuk knows the answer to that one.
I wanna say that Wainfleet tucks her into his jacket and with the help of the other recoms surrounding him, they manage to successfully smuggle her into the recom quarters. Mansk finds her a little breathing mask and she’s all set.
At some point, she definitely breaks into someone’s wardrobe and demands the recoms play dress up with her like she does with Neteyam and Lo’ak. She’s definitely dressed in someone’s labcoat - Mansk has no idea who she stole it from - complete with scientist goggles. Meanwhile some poor recom is dressed in various weird clothing combinations with all sorts of leaves in their hair.
Tuk: “Do you, or do you not feel bonita?”
Some unsuspecting recom: “I feel bonita.”
Tuk: “Wonderful because you look bonita.”
Mansk is probably her favourite because he’s quiet like Neteyam. Always listening to her endless narrating. And even if it seems he isn’t, as in he’s cleaning something or multitasking, she knows he’s paying attention because one of his ears is always pointed towards her and he nods and grunts in all the right places.
Wainfleet gives me fun uncle vibes. If she comes up with some sort of prank, he’s definitely the go to man to get it sorted.
Meanwhile Quaritch sees her as a means to get to the na’vi, but gradually softens and develops some sort of soft spot for her. I call him grandpa because he gives me old man, too tired to run after the kid vibes. And he definitely considers Tuk Mansk’s responsibility since he’s the one who found her.
WAIT: You know how I said about Mansk’s sunglasses never coming off. Maybe he’s holding her at some point, and Tuk just casually steals them for herself and plops them on her little head. They’re way too big for her and don’t grip onto her tiny nose, but her ears wiggle so happily and her tail is wagging that Mansk doesn’t have the heart to take them off her. He definitely prefers wearing them because he’s got baby eyes and doesn’t look as intimidating as the older marines without them, but while Tuk wants them, he doesn’t take them back. He just tries to scowl extra hard during meetings to make up for it - it doesn’t work, he looks like an angry toddler.
Cue the Recoms going back into the forest and Tuk being all happy to show them all the cool stuff she knows. Telling them which fruit they can eat. Showing them how to navigate judging by the way the flowers face and which plants grow on which side of the trees. The recoms are quite literally absorbing all the wisdom of this eight year old and she’s LOVING it.
Only for the Sullys to find them and cut the playdate short.
Little Tuk just peeking out from behind Mansk’s leg and going, “Mummy!” Then ZOOMING over to Neytiri as Z-Dog and Wainfleet try to catch her. She dodges them effortlessly, winding herself around her mum’s waist.
Quaritch is sweating, having flashbacks: “Mummy, huh.”
Neytiri looks royally pissed. Teeth bared, bow drawn.
All the recoms are just backing away, slowly, carefully.
Mansk is straight back to square one, scared shitless and convinced he’s gonna die again.
#recoms#avatar#mansk#avatar mansk#recom mansk#lyle wainfleet#recom wainfleet#quaritch#miles quaritch#recom miles quaritch#z-dog#recom fike#tuk#tuktirey#found family#Tuk knows exactly what she's doing
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Hi! I just reread Read You Lima Charlie for the millionth time. It's probably one of my favorite SEAL Buck fics, and I've combed through the whole tag multiple times. I know it's a bit of an older fic, but do you have any plans on continuing the AU somehow? I'd love to read more of that AU or hear your headcanons if you have any!
Hello hello! Thank you so much, you have no idea how excited I am to hear that! Please do feel free to ask any and all questions about the AU or my headcanons and I'd be more than happy to answer <3
I know it's been a hot minute (sorry heh work and life got a bit hectic) but I do have a draft of a fun little sequel sitting in my google docs which I've been writing on and off. Alas I am a perfectionist and also a slow writer so it's been in limbo.. BUT it is definitely there and almost done and will come out at some point! I hope!!
In the meantime thank you for reading and asking about it and being so patient and i love you so here's a little sneak peak action scene from the draft:
[tw graphic depictions of violence, blood/gore, death]
“Where’ve you been?” Steve’s eyes did a quick sweep over Buck’s body, analytical, checking for injuries. Noticed Buck’s empty hands. “Where’s your rifle?”
“I was doing the laundry!” Buck replied through gritted teeth, eyes wide with exasperation.
He looked back around the corner of the building as Steve spoke behind him; soldiers dragging off the wounded away from the blast site, his teammates spread around with the other troops and suppressing the flow of insurgents, a few enemy fighters slipping through the gaps in fire, spraying bullets into the base in wide sweeping arcs before being shot down.
“I don’t have a sidearm to give you. Head back to the armoury, grab your shit – give Command the sitrep on your way.”
Buck hummed in the affirmative, still scanning the combat zone, and was about to turn around and heed Steve’s instruction, but at the last moment caught sight of a combatant sneaking around behind a stack of crates. Slung over the man’s shoulder was a rocket launcher, and time seemed to slow as he swung the weapon around, gripped it tight, and levelled it at a cluster of infantrymen.
Buck saw red.
“Buckley!” Steve hissed, clawing at Buck’s sleeve in an attempt to stop him from sprinting towards the stray tango, but Buck slipped through his grip. He was too fast. Too focused. The last thing he heard was Steve muttering under his breath, “I swear that Kid is not right in the head.”
Planting a foot against a wall mid-run, Buck used his momentum to bound off and vault one-handed over the crates. He was airborne for half a second before colliding with his target in a spear tackle, bringing them both tumbling to the ground. The launcher clattered across the floor, and the two men engaged in a tangled mess of hand-to-hand combat.
Buck channelled his silent rage into the fight – got the large man into a grapple, caught an elbow to the mouth in the process, twisted the man’s arms as he yanked at Buck’s clothes. Buck had no gun. But he remembered, belatedly, that he did have a knife. Regrettably not one of his fixed-blades, but a folding knife that he had slipped into the pocket of his shorts a few days ago while rearranging his loadout. It would have to do.
The guy was a dirty fighter, strong, but he was sloppy. Poorly trained. More holes in his form than swiss cheese, and Buck fully intended to exploit them.
Buck ate a punch straight to his nose; didn’t let the sharp flash of pain or the momentary blur in his vision slow him down. He lunged straight for the opening in his opponent’s stance that he knew would be left undefended, torquing body mass and manipulating limbs to get the man into a one-armed chokehold against Buck’s chest. He quickly reached into his pocket with his free hand, flicked the lever to deploy the blade, and plunged it deep into the man’s neck right where Buck knew his jugular rested.
With a jerk of his arms, simultaneously pulling the knife towards himself and twisting the man’s head away, he was met with a spray of hot blood and a wet gurgle.
Steve rounded the crates with his weapon raised right as the body dropped to the ground with a dull thump. Buck hung his head, catching his breath from the exertion and letting the blood from the blows to his face drip from his nose and dribble out of his mouth. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip to cut off the string of bloody saliva, then spat out the viscous mess into the sand. Beside him, Steve strode forward, glanced down at the body, and exhaled sharply through his nose.
In his peripherals, Buck caught a flash of movement. He whirled around instinctively, and in the same motion whipped his arm and let the blood-slick knife fly out of his hand.
Two bullets from Steve’s rifle landed at the centre of the combatant's chest just a moment before Buck’s blade hit its mark, buried up to the hilt in the hollow of his throat. The man stumbled, eyes wide, and collapsed to the ground as his legs buckled beneath him. His weapon flew out of his hands in the fall, and his momentum carried his body a couple more feet before it finally slid to a twitching stop.
Buck straightened, scrunching his nose tentatively and sniffing. A deep buzzing sensation underscored the cacophony of battle around him, heartbeat steady and powerful in his core, fingertips thrumming with energy, vision crisp and vibrant. He blinked. Then, he turned to Steve, nonchalant.
“I had that.”
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Heyy Nerdie <3
So since I'm relatively new with writing, I wonder how other writers manage their docs, like what tool is good for writing stories with multiple chapters. And I know everybody will have a different answer and solution for their writing process but I was just wondering if you had any tips for a newbie like me (I'm writing in my notes but that doesn't works so great, also no word count etc.)
Thank you in advance!
I appreciate you ❤️
Ooh! I'm excited1 A writing question! I feel honored that you're asking me. Full disclosure: I'm not the most organized person, even with my fanfic. I am trying to improve though.
I have found for all my fics, no matter if they're one shots or chapter series, I write them in Google Drive. The only reason I don't use Word or my notes app is because I find it easier to edit on my phone when I'm out and about having ideas randomly. (Always happens in places that aren't great to write in which is why I try and stay ready. Only works 50% of the time because of driving. 😭) I also tend to keep each fic even with all their chapters or parts in one very long document instead of a separate document for each chapter. That's just so I will be less confused. I get confused easily. 😳
Many writers use Google Drive so if you're brave enough to ask, you can usually send them what you have to review and they can either just look or comment on different parts depending on permissions you give them. To give your fic a good once over, you can pop it into Word for grammar and spelling corrections. Google docs does do that as well, but sometimes it misses things that Word catches. It's weird.
For on the go notes about vibes or random ideas, I feel your notes app should be good for that and also outlines if you want to plan out chapters or your one shot before writing it out. That way if you have it on your phone in your notes app, you can type in Word or Google while looking back at your bullet points to keep the story flow going.
Also if you like music, I highly recommend a writing playlist. It can be just your favorite songs, set to the mood of what you're writing, instrumental, anything that will help you focus and get your story out. it also could help inspire things (there's numerous fanfics written from songs - hundreds).
Maybe yourself a comfy space, enjoy a nice beverage (I like tea, hot chocolate or coffee if it's in the morning and a snack while writing) and remember it's supposed to be fun.
Sure frustrating sometimes especially when it seems like you have no ideas or the idea isn't coming out quite like you wanted. Take a break, might be hours, days or months, however long you feel you may need for it not to see like a chore. Writing, drawing and crating in general should be fun - in can require focus and work, but should still be enjoyable.
Try out some prompts, challenges or toss some ideas out to friends or people if you feel your creativity is lacking to you just want some different perspectives. We're all different, have histories that make us who we are so there can be as many ways to write a fic as starts in the sky. No one has thought of all of them, many reuse tropes (myself included) because they're fun and provide a template to work from and all sorts of themes can be explored. If you like to edit graphics and/or create moodboards, that can be a good way to distract yourself from writing while also focusing on a different aspect of your fic - visuals. It could help spark something too.
I truly hope I answered your question and didn't ramble too hard. Like this is... 8/10 rambling. 😆
#Nerdie's ask box#writing advice from Nerdie?#is this a good idea#Nerdie went into great detail#is there a tree in that forest?#a lot of stuff
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fic
Because I haven't updated my series in almost 3 years now I am worried the only person interested in seeing its completion is me, but I'm trying to bury that nagging little voice to still put here that I have about 10k new words in the doc (figured this was a great month to write, NaNo and all) and if I'm not 100k words of story-only, then I should be there in a week or so (this doc has a lot of notes).
I'm deep in the trenches of chapters that have maybe two bullet points of context and nothing else, so growing them has been interesting. But according to planned chapter count, I should be at 75% done probably by the weekend with the current pace I'm writing my first draft. And my current plan is to publish at 80% done and 50% beta'ed.
So uh, yeah. AU Fic 5 (aka Above the Shadows) could be coming quite soon. Crossing fingers.
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Do you have any tips for writing stories? I wanna write a fanfic and I know what it’s about too, but I have no idea what to do.
I'm so so sorry that it's taken me so long to respond to this! I'm either on here once a day, or I'm gone for a month, and there is no in-between. 😭😅
As for writing tips! I have some of the lamest advice and I apologize in advance lol.
Firstly, and I know this is so generic so forgive me, just write! I know there can be a lot of pressure trying to figure out how to begin a story, but I just open a doc and start typing. I'll make a little outline (nothing crazy, just bullet points in chronological order- but I know ppl who keep spreadsheets), and then I start typing. If the way it starts feels clunky, later, I'll go back and add a paragraph or re-word it, but getting started is the more important part. That way, you have something to build on.
Also, read! I know this is more generic advice, but so much inspiration can happen when reading someone else's works. It can help with flow and provide good examples on how to begin a new fic.
Some advice I have a hard time following is also to take your time. Write the chapter, and then sit on it. Run it through Grammarly. Have a beta look at it. Give it a couple days or even weeks to marinate. Start the next chapter. You sometimes think of other things to add, that help with foreshadowing. Or little mistakes you'll catch that you might not have noticed at first. Or even whole scenes you want to add that you thought of while you were in the shower lol.
Other than that, I can only tell you some of the things I do. I keep a notes app full of words and phrases I like, to remember later. I have lots of resources I use (thesaurus.com, writers' blogs, that kind of thing), and I try and think about how I would like something to sound/what I want to say before I start typing. The car is a great place to just be alone and think about things. If FBI has me wire tapped they hear me having the most unhinged conversations with myself.
But literally starting a fic can be such a hurdle and it's hard to do sometimes. But just typing, from any point, can be a good start, and then going back later to add an intro. Either a scene setting, or setting up the tone of the story, or lore, are all good ways to start.
I hope this is helpful in some small way, and I also wish you all sorts of luck!! Let me know if you do end up posting a fic- I'd love to read it!
Also!! Here are some links that might be helpful!
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Six Somethings Sunday!
Hello friends. I am couch-ridden with a sprained ankle. Do you know what that means?
It means I can't busy myself running around all day and forget/run out of time to do a post! So thank you to @monbons and @blackberrysummerblog for the tags!
I've posted a few times about Fettuccine and Foreplay and it's quite short, so I'm done teasing that one (it's in beta!). Instead, I'll share from my Wednesday x Carry On crossover fic. I don't think I've ever actually publicly made the connection that this fic is also the one with the Deaf OC, so, surprise!
Delilah is Penny and Shepard's daughter. I wasn't sure at first whether this would take place at the same time that Wednesday & co are at the school, or if it would just take place at Nevermore Academy some other time, but I can't have Thing and Delilah not meet and get into shenanigans together!
I also really want Simon and Baz's daughter to go, too, and I very much want that daughter to be Tori from our Heartstopper crossover, but Heartstopper x CO x Wednesday just feels like too much... so she may just be a very Tori-coded character...
Anyway, here are six bullets points (and some sub-bullets for bonus) from my planning doc:
Delilah notices Thing signing with Wednesday and Enid, them responding to him
he points at Delilah – Wed doesn't look, Enid waves
Thing taps and points again, Wed and Enid approach
Say Thing noticed Delilah signing earlier and wanted to meet; Delilah fascinated and so fucking excited
Thing, Delilah, and Enid set up date to hang out and learn from each other
Delilah: can we invite my dad? He would be so excited to meet you.
still won't know ASL, but what does that matter when the people at school who do understand sign know it from Thing, who has his own language? More opportunity to communicate regardless?
Enid gives them the scoop on everyone – first lead of who to talk to about alt magic??
Tagging: @onepintobean @martsonmars @thewholelemon @iamamythologicalcreature @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife
#carry on#the simon snow series#penelope bunce#shepard love#but also shepard bunce#by this point#wednesday netflix#wednesday addams#enid sinclair#nevermore academy#my writing
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Hi, I love Spasorrow fic, I'm really sick right now so I spend the day reading all the things you wrote.
English Is not my first lenguage, and I barely understand how Tumblr works.
I got this idea but I can't figure out how to write the story.
This Is a Buggy x Reader idea, they were friends with Shanks and navigate with Roger, but one day there's a storm and reader falls overboard.
Shanks and Buggy thought reader died, but for some reason they can't drown, years later they sneaks to Buggy's tripulation to kill a man since they are now a mercenary. Buggy starts falling for them since they treat him like a human being without being intimidated by him. Later Buggy recognice readear and...? I don't know
Hello, love! I'm glad you've enjoyed my writing. I adore writing for the sapsorrow fic, it's always on my mind of late.
I've done a similar fic like this before for Shanks! It's an amnesia-trope fic where "reader" loses memories after falling overboard. It's called "Remember Me" and it's on my Masterlist if you'd like to take a look! 🖤
For Buggy, I absolutely adore the concept. You could go a similar route with it: amnesia after serving aboard Gol D Roger's ship with the two young apprentices, Shanks and Buggy.
For plot purposes:
Shanks reads as a perpetual flirt who has never had to work hard to gain the attention of friends and lovers.
Buggy has always seen himself as unlovable due to his disfigurement (nose).
How your concept reads as a bulleted point:
OC/Reader has been working hard to build up Buggy's confidence; Shanks is always a reassuring king. Buggy thinks the two of them are simply making fun of him.
Amongst a storm: Buggy, reader/OC and Shanks were tasked with tying the rigging for the ship. They work hard, reader/oc always reaching out for Buggy to protect him, knowing if he falls overboard he'll be rendered defenceless and likely die.
As one final wave swells, the three of them all look amongst each other. Buggy slips, reaches for reader/OC but finds Shank's arm in their absence. Reader/oc smiles in relief, all is well - but the ship's bottom hits a large coral bank and they're tossed to the side of the boat. Seaspray renders Shanks' vision blurry, Buggy tries to reach for reader/OC but they scream at him not to because he'll die.
Buggy doesn't want to lose them, screams over his shoulders for Shanks to help him but as he turns back around - he's met with nothing. His soul screams out for them, Shanks manages to clear his eyes from the sea spray but it's to no avail. Reader/OC is lost to them.
Notes:
That is really where I would start it as a chaptered fic. It has so much potential to take it anywhere you want.
Reader/OC could be found by a ship of conflicting pirates who take pity on them in the storm
Reader/OC could wash to shore and be taken under the wing and train as a marine under Garp and Bogard
This one could be exceptionally sad/angsty if they were the one tasked with bringing Gol D Roger into custody and execute him. Having amnesia and be made to kill your childhood captain would just have me crying so much.
They could not be found at all and be made to fend for themselves. Accidentally stumbling into a thief's guild, they could learn to train with them to complete tutorship as an assassin.
To set the mood for you to write to, I have some song recommendations for you!
My Heart With You - The Rescues
Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money
Siren Song - Bat For Lashes
If you need any help, I am absolutely happy to beta-read / proof read for you over google docs! Send me a private message and I'd love to help you in any way I can 🖤
Themes: lost lovers, angst, amnesia-trope, blissful reunification, apprehension, teasing, violence, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers.
@writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @empressofmankind @nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos @tiredemomama @sordidmusings also have some beautiful Buggy pieces and amazing thoughts on their Masterlists, if you'd like to check them out.
@since-im-already-here also has a lot of music recs and advice.
Happy writing!! 🖤🖤
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Week One of Trying To Become A Fic Writer:
in my head: three volumes of beautifully detailed story, multiple intricate character relationships and entirely new (better) canon (in which the character doesn’t die, thank you), and man, it’s all really good, wish you could read it
the actual doc: three bullet point notes, one of which is literally:
Guys, i think i figured it out.
(points at two notebooks filled with notes on three artbooks, one large personal project and hundreds of undecipherable sketches that are all beautiful and fully realised when i think of them, but i got to actually drawing like...one)
This is exactly like painting.
#I will report again when i will make more progress#in a year or so#i have a plan B tho lol#don't worry#XD#kooks talks
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