#wanted 2 try something new with this 1! ^_^
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Pick a Card - What is your soul nudging you towards? - Spirituality
Hello and welcome to a new pick a card collective reading. This time we're going to focus on your spiritual side with the question, What is your soul nudging you towards?
The idea is to welcome any message, any nudge from your soul to encourage you to explore something spiritually. I will keep this open and see what shows up. Never done that specific question, and I'm using a deck I'm not super used to, so you're welcome to leave feedback as it is as much of an exploration for you as it is for me!
As always remember that this is a general reading meant for multiple people, there are only three piles and a shit ton of you. Spirituality is very personal so take what resonates and leave out the rest.
PILE 1
Cards: Parasite, King of Pentacles, Threshold Guardian, 9 of Pentacles, Idiot, 2 of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, Pure Balance, 8 of Swords, Abyss, Queen of Pentacles, Female Warrior, Knight of Pentacles, Holder of Light, Page of Cups, 9 of Cups, Imprisoner, Inner Companion, the World
Right off the bat you've got so many pentacles cards, especially towards the end of the suite like wow, and in placements targeting your current situation and energies. It's a indication that you're currently very focused on the physical aspects of your life in a very abundance-focused way. Which BTW doesn't only mean money but your physical life as a whole. You may just be very focused on your physical routine, your job and building your home, taking care of your body and enjoying the pleasures of life.
This shows right at the beginning of your spread, where we can see that your focus on abundance and enjoying the things of life is interfering with your spiritual development. Its almost like you're carrying so many outside things with you that it leaves no space for tuning in with yourself only. And when you try, it's again very hard to do due to the noise and clutter within you. You are very preoccupied with your job or career, very focused on buying stuff or planning holidays or outings, very focused on your body. I'd say also rather detached from thinking and feeling your spirituality. Like it's barely a tiny thought in your mind but apart from that you pay no attention to it. It's almost like you don't really want to.
However, I do think that this is not happening by mistake and that you need to go through this phase, and if it's so difficult to brute force yourself out of it, or if you feel no desire to do so at all, its because you are sort of blocked from doing that in order not to hijack your natural development. You needed this break, to focus on your own pleasure and physical abundance, to reconnect with what's immediately real and knowable and build a life for yourself. There is this idea of outside forces actually protecting that phase of your life so that you don't rush towards something before you're ready to, which would be counter-productive.
In the past, you were not always the wisest and have made a lot of not so smart decisions, with not so great consequences… you might have been warned but ignored it or failed to see it and proceeded anyway. However, you have learned from it and rebuilt yourself, and I think your current phase of life is part of that; that need to repair your life and the damage you went through. For some of you, it's also possible that you've got a great deal of theoretical knowledge but not much personal practice to back it up, or that you were just repeating what others did without understanding anything about it, and you came to the realization that I made no sense and was pointless, so you withdrew.
What is your soul nudging you towards is balance. As we saw, you're very focused on your physical life, but it is not a bad thing and actually something you needed in order to be the person you wanted to be in the world. But your soul is now calling for some adjustments in order to bring balance into that. At this point it mostly have to do with the way you think, because it seems that you're trapping yourself and refusing to move. You're being asked to take the blinds off and told you have all the power to do so. Now, do you want it right now? I think for some of you it may take a bit of time, but that's the next step anyway and what your soul is nudging you towards.
For challenges you will face, there will be some type of leap of faith to be made. A path that you may accept or reject and that will change your trajectory. You may need to leave your sense of comfort and security a bit here and let go of some of the clutter surrounding you so that you can leave space for change and these new energies. It comes as a challenge because I think you're very reluctant to change at the moment, even distrusting it a bit.
For what help is available, I think for some of you you may rely on the support of a female warrior power of some kind, be it a divinity or a female mentor figure with those qualities, whether in this world or in the other. This will help you stay grounded and make slow but deliberate movements. This support will help you feel secure through the changes and add a layer of protection. For some of you it's about embodying these female warrior qualities. Regardless of gender, it can be described at the need to defend yourself, honor your boundaries and fight for what you believe is right. You might be inspired by someone to act and think like that.
For what steps to take, there is a need to return to source, and it's clarified by two cups cards, the only ones in your reading. So you will be called to reconnect with your emotions, and to put to rest some of them that ate hindering you without you knowing because they are so bottled up. There is a need to make space before you can welcome anything new.
Final advice: you are completing a powerful cycle and, right now, you're tying up loose ends. You may still feel somehow like in a state of spiritual hibernation but worry not because its all part of the process. This is coming to an end as well. This phase is part of a larger developmental process, and i'm getting that help is available from your guides or spirits, however you want to call them or conceptualize them. So I think for you it will be very important to tune it within yourself and with your spiritual court and find the personal advice you need. This reading is general and meant for many people so it won't be able to be tailored to your needs. I really think you have all the answers you need within and that it's a matter of daring to see it and daring to take that leap of faith. You are not alone, you are supported and loved and help is available to you.
PILE 2
Cards: Two of Swords, Grindstone, Five of Wands, Leader, Ace of Wands, Abyss, Scapegoat, Sun rx, Hidden knowledge, Light Bearer, 9 of Pentacles, the Emperor rx, Hierophant, Staff of the Gods, Threshold Guardian, Mother Earth, Blood Ancestor, Spirit Guide, Home and Hearth
For where you currently are spiritually, you are undergoing an intense process of refinement of your self that is divinely guided to push growth. From your point of view, it's manifesting as a time of struggle and even inner conflict that is pushing you to take a stance and make a decision. What it is exactly will vary for different folks, but I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about because it's quite obvious it's creating some inner tensions that must be quite uncomfortable to experience. The message here is that it serves a bigger purpose and that the outcome will depend on your choice to create movement in a specific direction.
For what energies are surrounding you, with the combination of the Leader and the Ace of Wands, it definitely points at a very fiery, action oriented energy. You are called to embody the positive attributes of a wise and powerful leader who takes the matter into their own hands and do not let fate decide their path for them. While committed to move forward, you also do not loose sight of your values and what you care about, which is not about hesitating but rather being fully rooted in your beliefs and let that fuel you. So I think whatever change you are going through, it's not about an extreme shift of paradigm, but rather, deepening things powerfully and owning your choices fully.
I think in the past, you had a tendency to shift the blame and avoid owning up to your actions. There is a hint or arrogance, over confidence and egoism here with the Sun reversed, embodying the flaws of Leo when unbalanced. I think you have been through something that forced you to change the way you approach things, distance yourself from some practices or behaviors for example, which brought you to where you are now. This is a very precious knowledge you can rely on and I think it's what brought you to these positive leader qualities and made you wiser and more empathetic while keeping your very radiating and go-getter attributes.
For what you soul is nudging you towards, its really interesting that you get yet again another authority figure with the Emperor, although this time it is reversed. I'm seeing this as a warning to not over do the masculine side of yourself that risk making you too stubborn and rigid, but rather welcome some type of ease and receptiveness. You might be too serious and not pleasure oriented enough so there's definitely a need to balance things a bit, without changing your nature completely. I'm also getting with the Light Bearer that you are called to make a very positive impact on those around you and your community, to bring them Light in the dark through your work, actions, advice or knowledge. And this call would benefit greatly from adding a but of that compassionate and easy going energy i talked about above as it will help you connect with people but also help you stay happy and abundant by not burning yourself out too fast.
For the challenge you will face in this process, I'm strongly getting the need to step away from known religious or magical structures and to carve out your own path. However you will not be spiritually alone in this, but will rather be in direct contact with the spiritual powers, as in you will draw directly from the source in order to materialize and express what needs to be. It comes as a challenge because you are in uncharted territories, it's a lot of pressure and it's hard to know where to go since no one has been here before, or at least not in an obvious and easy to access way.
The good thing is that help is available in two ways. One, you do not have to worry about stepping somewhere you are not meant to, because these places are guarded and you will be facing a closed door if you go too far. So whatever it is, you are guided and protected on your path. The second thing is the wisdom of the Earth itself. I'm getting that you could get great help from the natural world and its spirits and non human inhabitants. You might benefit a lot from looking at natural phenomenon and learning the deeper meaning of them or connect with your local spiritual ecosystem. The Land itself could be a powerful ally too.
For what steps to take forward, you are strongly being called to connect with ancestors, and by that I don't mean solely ancestors or your lineage, but also those who share a connection with you because they walked on your path before you. Strong spirit worker vibe from this pile. This could mean trying to divine with them or honoring them and praying, which will allow them to help you. However, I would just remind you the need to do things in your own way and not simply copying and pasting other people's practices into your own, as we saw it was a very strong message for you. So try to be creative and think outside of the box but do remember that there is tremendous wisdom to be gained from those that came before you.
For the final advice, don't hesitate to connect with your spirit guides and those who are your spiritual home in order to find comfort, security and rest. Yes you are called to stand up for yourself, but you are certainly not alone and it is important to remember and share moments with your loved ones, from this realm and beyond. A second message is also to be careful about your energy levels and make sure you home is a suitable place for that magical and physically. You've got lots to do so take care of yourself and don't hesitate to reach out for help when you are struggling.
PILE 3
MASSIVE DISCLAIMER PLEASE READ
I do not want to fear-monger but this reading is very heavy and I'm pretty sure it's only going to apply to some of you. If you do not relate please do not worry and keep scrolling. If you do relate I hope you will find some hope in this. I really hesitated releasing this pile at all but I feel like it's more important to be truthful about the message that I received than making cool readings for tumblr… The message was hammered clearly but, again, I'm pretty sure it's meant for a very small amount of people, if not just one or two. Take care.
Cards: Place of Healing, Creator of Time, the Hanged Man, Archon & Aion, Bailiff, Death, Blood Ancestor, Premonition, 5 of Swords, Magical Temple, 6 of Cups, Knight of Wands, Spirit Guide, Death, Queen of Swords, Shamaness, 2 of Wands, Strength rx
Let's start by looking at where you are currently spiritually.
From your point of view, it might seems like not much is happening and that you are forced to stay still. You are focusing on healing deeply and slowly. Some of you might have been sick recently or going through some type of intense mental or physical form of stress and you are now in the process of rejuvenating yourself, forced to stay where you are because you cannot move further. However, something very important and new is being birthed here. Think as a seed being planted, or even further back, the initial spiritual spark of a seed before it reaches the physical plane. So yeah it might seem like not a whole lot is going on but there is something very powerful at play here that has a lot of transforming potential.
Okay… for the energies surrounding you, you got 3 cards directly referencing Death. It seems some of you are indeed seriously sick at the moment, or taking care of someone who is about to pass onto the other side, or dealing with a very recent loss and in the process of mourning. If that's not the case, worry not that just mean it isn't your pile! If you do relate to this, know that I really empathize with you and we'll see what advice is available to you shortly. Another possibility is that some of you might be working with the spirit of the deceased, or being surrounded by them heavily.
For what you've learned in the past that is relevant to your current situation, you got two cards referencing union and one referencing messaged from above. I really think this pile talks to people who have formed deep bonds with some type of divine or spiritual entity that taught them a lot through messages sent to them. It talks about commitment and a mutually beneficial relationship. Some of you could even be under some form of spiritual contract with these powers. In all cases this pile is quite involved spiritually.
For what you soul is nudging you towards, you got yet other cards referencing death. I think it's either referencing to someone who has passed away or is about to, and in both cases its a great loss for you. You might be called to help them pass to the other side, help them move on and acting like a mediumistic bridge. You might be experiencing premonition regarding this event before hand, or dream about them after the fact. You soul is nudging you to take on the role of a psychopomp and communicate with this deceased person. I think that's something you haven't done before and feel quite worried about but I think you are sort of forced by the circumstances.
For the challenges you will face, i think this whole experience will be very difficult for you because you've lost some type of home in this person and you get reminded of your common memories constantly. You might feel the need to power through that to skip the pain and focus on the task ahead in order to protect yourself from grief. I cannot tell whether its a good or bad thing as everyone processes grief differently, just pay attention to how you react; be patient and gentle with yourself.
The help available is your spirit guides (whatever that means for you) who are here to protect and sooth your soul. You are highly encouraged to reach out to them however you feel comfortable to and call their help. They are here for you in this difficult time and you should not hesitate relying on them.
Steps to take: you will be facing your primordial fear regarding death and endings, and you must take the necessary steps to honor that natural cycle of life. You do seem to have a very special relationship with it though and you are called to step up to that role. You must not hang onto what has been lost for that it is gone, but instead, embrace change with respect and reverence and let things follow their course on the other side. With the Queen of Swords, you are called to embrace this new perspective and the deep changes that come with it. You will need to be sharp with your mind and your intentions and show the way ahead for this soul. Again I'm getting this idea of being between the earth and the sky, like a bridge.
For the final advice, this experience you are or will be going through is a tale old as humanity itself. A very old form of magic. Its a powerful and raw time that will push you to take on a role you might have never considered. Your path is humble but extremely important. It will change the way you see the world and life. Now is not the time to doubt your power and abilities for you have all that's needed to succeed. Those who've left us leave a hole but they are also our strength. I'm getting that you might benefit from reading practices surrounding Death in different culture, or dive deeper into you own. Stories of old can help you navigate this situation greatly.
#pick a card#tarot reading#pac reading#divination#pick a card reading#pick a pile#pac tarot#pick an image#tarot#taroblr#tarot community#soaring wide#soaringwide#soaringwide tarot reading
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Already Gone {8} || MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader
Summary: After a record smashing 2023 season it seems to be about to repeat as 2024 begins.
Warnings: 18+ only, violence, reader injury
WC: 2.3k
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight
The season had ended on a high with Max rightfully where he belonged. You had accompanied him to the FIA awards and cheered proudly as he accepted the winners trophy before jetting off to the Swiss Alps for a much needed break. Unfortunately work was never far away and all too soon it was time to make your grand entrance at the annual end of year Board of Directors meeting at the Scuderia Ferrari Headquarters.
The memory of the shocked faces when you walked into the meeting room and took the last chair around the table never ceased to make you smile. The brooch pinned to your Chanel suit jacket had recorded the moment of silence before chaos erupted while you reclined back in the chair to watch the men scramble for an answer.
Now it was time for the new season to begin.
Melbourne, Australia
It should have been a safe place. You had walked the perimeter three times just to check for any signs someone would be trying to get into the event. You hadn’t found any. Leaving the security team to their job, you returned to Max and accepted the cocktail he had ordered.
Australia was always a lively place for Red Bull as they gathered a range of their athletes across a dozen extreme sports and created some promo videos for the year. This year was no different with a party to kick off the week long trip down under and it was more than just the Red Bull family in attendance.
“What’s wrong, liefje?”
You shook away the lingering feeling that something was amiss and draped your arms around Max. “Nothing, baby, I’m just a little on edge.”
“I thought things were going well with the Board?”
You scanned the room for the current Ferrari drivers, and the future one, spotting them all in separate areas and deep in conversation. “They are, I haven’t been able to find anything planned yet but it doesn’t mean they won’t try something.”
“Relax,” he soothed as he kissed his way across your collar and up to your lips. “You can have the night off worrying. I want my girlfriend not my bodyguard.”
“Maybe if you stop winning all the time I will be able to relax,” you teased. “You’re just too damn fast, baby.”
Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he dipped his head to your ear. “I went slow last night, didn’t I? I think I got in trouble for that too the way you begged me to go faster.”
The witty retort you had to torture him with was lost as two men stumbled over their feet and knocked into Max. Unsure of their intentions you shoved them back and stepped in front of him protectively but all they could sum up were a few drunken expletives at your lack of hospitality. It was only going to get worse when you signalled for security to escort them off of the premises.
“It’s fine, liefje, I’m safe, we’re safe,” Max soothed as he rubbed your tense shoulders. “Have another drink with me.”
You turned to the bar and reached over the counter for two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “I don’t know how many more 1-2 finishes I can survive,” you admitted as you tapped his glass and downed your shot. You could feel the desperation growing with each Ferrari board meeting but it was the meetings that were happening in the shadows that concerned you more. The only reprieve was that Mercedes had started the season off poorly so it was one less team for them to worry about competing with. “I think we should hire more personal security for you and maybe Checo too now.”
“Do you know what I think? I think you worry too much.” Max laughed at the roll of your eyes in response.
“One of us has to be the responsible one.”
Max took your shot glass and the bottle of vodka, placing them on the bar top before taking your hand and giving it a small tug.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m being the responsible one and taking you back to the hotel,” he said with a grin. “A bottle of wine in the jacuzzi with you is much safer.”
There were plenty of drivers parked outside the venue for when guests wanted to leave and the valet waved one forward. Plastic barriers kept fans back, photographers snapped shots for the newspapers and police lined the entrance for anyone that grew too bold. You scanned both sides of the tiled floor for anything out of place and shifted as you saw a flash catch the glint of metal.
When the gunshot rang out, your first thought was of Max. He had only been a few feet behind you, but with the crowd that had gathered in the hopes to get an autograph you had lost sight of him. Had he been hit? Had he ducked along with everyone else? You dared a glance over your shoulder and found he had been quickly covered by the policemen while the man you had spotted tried to make his escape.
Max’s leather jacket billowed at your sides as you sprinted after the shooter and you heard his voice over the screams of panic, he was calling you back, but there was no way you were letting the man get away. You made it two blocks before he dove into the back seat of a black sedan and fired off a few wild shots as it shot away from the curb.
Grabbing your phone from your pocket you dialled Max’s head of security and it picked up on the first ring. “1NF 2DU, Toyota Caldina,” you panted as you leaned against a building and watched the car disappear around the corner. “Male, early 30’s, brown hair, and fucking short. 9mm Beretta Nano.”
“Got it,” Harry noted before the phone was jostled. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”
You looked down at the tear in his jacket and pulled it aside to see blood soaking your blouse beneath. You closed your eyes as the burning spread to your lungs and your panting grew more laboured. “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, they won’t let me leave,” he growled the last part at Harry who was holding him back from chasing after you.
“Good…that’s good…you’re good,” you sighed in relief and slid down the brick wall. “I love you, Max.”
You heard what could only be described as a roar of pain before the line died and you were left looking at the background image on your phone. You had never been happier than that moment of waking up in Max’s arms on a lazy Sunday before the season began, your head on his bare chest and Achilles curled up on your feet with Jimmy and Sassy. The daily stresses of life hadn’t begun to claw itself to the forefront of your mind and nothing existed outside of those four walls.
As a teenager you lived life a day at a time, not caring if it was the last one because you had never had something to look forward to. Now, the longer you stared at that photo, determination grew stronger than the pain in your chest and you cut your palms on the brick as you pulled yourself to your feet.
“Liefje! Y/N!” Max’s voice carried above the sound of sirens and you tried to call back to him but only a hacking cough sawed through your lungs and your vision dimmed. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”
Your steps faltered as you followed his voice and when your legs collapsed beneath you his strong arms were there to catch you.
Max thought about just going to the car but there was a young boy holding out a cap and he couldn’t leave the little guy disappointed. He looked up to tell you he would just be a moment when he saw you shift suddenly, then the gunshot rang out. Everything moved so quickly as bodies surrounded him and the crowds screamed in the chaos, and he lost sight of you making chase down the street.
“Max, stay down, we’ll get you out of here,” Harry stated calmly as he pulled Max away from the policemen.
“I’m not going anywhere without Y/N.”
“These are her orders, shh,” Harry growled as he saw your contact calling and answered in an instant, listening intently. “Got it.”
Max snatched the phone from Harry before he could hang up. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”
The pause was long enough for him to hear his heartbeat in his ears and when you finally answered your voice didn’t sound quite right, “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”
Max looked at Harry who was using his muscle mass to build a wall between him and the street you had run down. “I’m fine, they won’t let me leave.”
“Good…that’s good…you’re good.” Your voice was growing quieter as he grew more agitated. “I love you, Max.”
Max looked at the floor where he had last seen you and noticed the darkened spot of blood stains that led away from him. Strength he had never known flooded through him and not even Harry’s arms that were as thick as Max’s thighs could hold him back. His trousers threatened to rip from the long strides and the quick pace of Max’s sprint and he screamed for you, praying for an answer as he followed the blood drops down the street.
Max knew there were people following him as he ran to the silhouette he innately knew was you. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”
“On its way.”
The street lights illuminated the pain etched in your face when you tried to walk to him but your legs collapsed. “I’ve got you, liefje, I’ve got you,” Max promised as he felt his hands grow slick with the blood leaking out of your side. “I’m not letting you go.”
Max could count on his hand the number of times he had felt true fear. He remembered the way his mother cried when she had him down to tell him she was leaving and how she wished she could take him too. He could remember the sound Achilles made when the neighbours dog escaped their property and chased him. He would always remember the look in your eyes before they closed.
For three days Max sat at your side, only moving from the room when you were wheeled away for scans and tests. Christian stopped by each night for an update that hadn’t changed and flowers arrived from the Board but Max dumped them straight in the bin, but other than that the room was empty and quiet.
Max knew he wasn’t liked by a lot of people but he never really believed that his life had become a target. You loved that he was still naive to the dark side of the sport and you happily became the shield that protected him from the innocence that had long been stolen from yourself. It was why you put yourself into the trajectory of the bullet meant for him.
Max could still see the footage that Harry had found from the lobby cameras. He had nearly thrown the laptop across the room where he waited for you to come out of surgery. That minute shift, the smallest of movements, had saved him - but at what cost?
“I found a little house,” Max said quietly as he held your hand. “It has an orchard and plenty of space for our babies, and no city around for miles. It needs some things fixed up before we could live there, but it sounds like a good place to retire.” He closed his eyes and lay back in the uncomfortable chair, your hand still resting in his so he could feel for any sign of life.
“I didn’t die just for you to retire now,” you rasped, your throat dry and voice hoarse.
Max was on his feet in an instant, capturing your face delicately as he kissed you with a sound that was some cross between a sigh of relief and a joyous laugh. “You didn’t die, liefje, I couldn’t have survived that.”
“I’m pretty sure I met the devil,” you groaned as you tried to sit up, “he spoke Italian.”
“That’s just Benedetto,” Max said with a flat laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you moving while the other pressed the call button. “You need to keep still.”
You weren’t impressed by the intrusion of the doctors and nurses who came flooding in and after answering dozens of pointless questions, because yes you were in pain after being shot, they finally left again.
“They’re just doing their job,” Max murmured as he found space on the bed to sidle in with you. He carefully shifted you so that he could lay his arm out before tucking you in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Let them prod and poke you until they are satisfied you are completely healthy again.”
“I just want to go home-hey! Why aren’t you at the track?”
“Did you seriously think I would leave you?” Max shook his head at the idea and kissed your forehead. “You risked your life to save mine, I know exactly where I want to be.”
The stitched in your side stretched as you craned your head back so he could reach your lips. You had thought there would never be another kiss so you were going to savour the feeling that came with it. “I love you, Max.”
“Ik hou van jou.”
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula one imagine#max verstappen x you#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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Part 6: Leaps of Faith
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)
(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3
April 2024
“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.
If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.
“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.
“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.
Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”
“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.
“You hate trying new things.”
“I’ve grown up I guess.”
“Azzi.”
“Mom.”
“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”
“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.
“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”
Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.
“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”
Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.
“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”
“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”
“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.
“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”
“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”
“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.
“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”
Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.
Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”
“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”
Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.
“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”
“Why do you need to?”
Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”
“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”
Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”
“What if you run away again?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”
“I didn’t choose Zoe-”
“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”
“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”
“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.
“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”
“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”
“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”
***
The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.
One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.
And then Paige looks away.
And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.
It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.
Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.
And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.
“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”
A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.
“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.
It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.
As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.
Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.
“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.
“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.
“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”
Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”
“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”
She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”
“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”
Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.
“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.
“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.
“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.
“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”
“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”
Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.
“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.
“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”
“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”
“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”
And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.
***
July 2024
The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.
There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.
Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.
“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”
“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”
“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.
“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”
Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”
“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.
He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”
“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.
“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”
Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.
“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”
“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.
Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”
“I don’t-”
“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.
“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”
Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”
“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”
“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.
“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.
“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”
Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.
“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”
Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”
She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.
“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.
“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.
“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”
***
October 2024
Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.
“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.
“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”
“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.
If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.
“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.
“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”
Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”
“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.
“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.
“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”
“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.
“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”
Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”
***
“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”
Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.
“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”
And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.
“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.
“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”
***
Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.
“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”
“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”
“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.
“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”
“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”
“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”
“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.
“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”
“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.
“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.
The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.
“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”
Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”
“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.
Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.
Click.
And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.
***
December 2024
There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.
“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”
“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.
“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”
“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”
It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.
“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.
“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”
“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”
“Exactly. That’s exciting.”
“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.
“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.
“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”
“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”
Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.
“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.
“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”
And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.
“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”
And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.
“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”
They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.
***
April 2025
7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.
The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.
With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.
Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.
As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.
Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.
A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”
Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.
“Say it again,” Paige demands.
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”
“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.
And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.
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Something New Pt. 2 (18+)
Jessie Fleming x Reader Smut (18+)
Read part 1 here!
Warnings: smut, use of blindfold, use of handcuffs, oral sex (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), teasing, edging, light dom/sub dynamic, sub(reader), praise kink if you squint, cursing,
WC: 4.2k
A/N: sorry this one took so long to get out, the next part will be a while maybe, 🤷♀️ but it’ll be using the other toys
You look up at Jessie, a cocky smirk across her face as she straddles you, her fingers interlocked with yours, holding your hands above your head, completely in control of you. She leans down placing her lips to your cheeks, teasing you. Kissing just next to your lips but not giving you the satisfaction of her lips on yours.
You groan when her lips find the corner of your mouth. “Quit teasing and kiss me!” Your begging has the opposite effect, Jessie sits up, her weight resting on your hips.
“So needy already?” Her hands move to pull you to sit up. You do and her hands release yours finding the bottom of the shirt you were wearing. “Let’s take this off.” Jessie says, and happy to do so your hands find hers at the bottom of your shirt and you pull it up and over your head, discarding it to the side of the bed. You quickly remove your bra too.
Jessie’s eyes fall to your chest, watching your nipples harden under the cool temperature of your bedroom. She hums to herself before reaching out, her hands each grasping a breast and she pushes you back down onto your back.
Once your laying flat on the bed, Jessie again takes your hands in hers, only this time she moves her right hand to hold the wrists of both your hands. For a second you debate trying to fight her grip, just to wind her up, get her a little frustrated with your behavior. You decide against it, letting your girlfriend hold you to the bed with one hand. You watch as the muscles in her forearm, bicep, and shoulder move and twitch as she holds you. That was one thing, from a list of many things that you loved about Jessie’s physique, the way you could see her strength at work.
Jessie’s other hand is blindly patting the bed next to you before she pulls her eyes away from yours to look at what she was doing, quickly grabbing the handcuffs.
“I’m going to restrain you to the bed, is that okay?” Jessie looks down at you. She was so beautiful. Still in all of her clothing, her hair neatly surrounding her face.
“Yeah baby.” You look up at her as she starts to move. She releases both hands from you, bringing them up to unlatch the handcuffs.
“Hand.” She says holding out the open cuff. You place your wrist in. Jessie closes the latch, tightening it enough so that you could move your wrist but you couldn’t get out of the restraint. “That okay?”
You give it a trial spin, the cuffs were lined with a fabric, making them more comfortable than metal. “Good.” You smile at her.
She takes your hand bringing it up toward the headboard. She loops the chair between the two cuffs around one of the posts in your headboard before grabbing your wrist and moving your right hand into the other cuff. She tightens it the same before sliding back to sit on your thighs.
“Good? Too tight, too loose?” She asks. You give a timid tug on the handcuffs, the chain leaves you with about two inches of movement. Wanting to make sure they were secure you give a second harder tug, Jessie’s eyes locked on where your hands were.
“Yeah good.”
“The keys right here, they also have a release button.” Jessie says as she places the key from the cuffs onto your bedside table. “If you want them off just say so, I’ll get them off as quick as possible.”
“Blindfold?” You ask, unable to grab it yourself with your hands occupied.
“Yeah?” Jessie looks at you, her hand reaching behind her blindly feeling for the blindfold. When she finds it she brings it up. “Lift your head baby.” You do and Jessie covers your eyes with the fabric, making the previously bright room dark. She ties it behind you.
She leans down, this time actually placing a timid kiss on your lips. “Do we need a safe word?” You hear her ask, it’s strange not being able to hear her. “I don't know this is new territory.”
“I don’t think so? We can just go with our usual. Stop means stop, no means no. Hang on, wait, anything like it means slow down. We’re not doing anything crazy where saying stop wouldn’t actually mean stop. I’ll talk to you, I’ll let you know if I need out or I need you to stop.” As you say the words you realize that while Jessie had always learned toward being the more dominant role in bed, this was the first time you’d be fully under her control.
“Okay.” Jessie lets out a breath. You can feel her shift her body, her hands coming down to your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as she situates herself on top of you, putting one thigh between your legs. Her movements startle you a bit, causing you to just when her lips find your neck.
Jessie starts trailing kisses down your neck. She knew the spots you liked, normally you’d be able to pull and push her to increase or decrease pressure, but today you couldn’t, and she took advantage of that.
Her lips latched onto the spot she knew would have you moaning, gently sucking. Her tongue pressed hot and warm against your skin. It takes a lot of focus to not allow a moan to slip out, you didn’t want to give Jessie the satisfaction quiet yet. You feel her teeth pinch your skin, a yelp leaving your mouth before it quickly becomes a moan as Jessie runs her tongue over the spot.
She spends another minute kissing your neck, your throat vibrating against her lips as you try to swallow back your groans of pleasure. She then brought her hands from your waist to grab your breasts, kneading them between her fingers before her mouth trailed light kisses down to your right nipple.
Again, not being able to see her, her actions are unexpected. You start to feel a pit in your stomach, nerves, the feeling of being uneasy, not anything you’d ever felt in bed with Jessie. You try and push back the feelings of unease, just telling yourself it’s just something new you had to give it a second. Then Jessie’s fingers find your nipples, giving a slight pinch, something she usually did. However this time, you weren’t enjoying it, you hated not being able to anticipate her movements by seeing her. You can feel your breathing picking up, and not out of pleasure.
“Jessie, hang on.” You speak up, not being able to reach out to her with your hands.
Her hands immediately come off your chest. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think I like the blindfold.” As quick as the words come out of your mouth, the brightness of the room comes flooding into your eyes. Jessie’s hands now holding the blindfold above you.
“Are you okay?” She looks at you, her eyes wide, filled with concern. “Do you want your hands released?”
You shake your head. “No, I’ve liked that so far. I just was getting jumpy, it felt weird not being able to see you.”
“Okay. Thank you for telling me.” She smiles at you, leaning down placing a soft and loving kiss to your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You reply to her. “You can go back to what you were doing.” You give your girlfriend a suggestive wiggle of your eyebrows, looking down at your own chest.
“Are you sure?” She doesn’t even look at your chest, keeping her eyes locked with yours, wanting to make sure you were okay.
“I’m sure Jessie.” You nod, giving her a smile. She places one last sweet kiss to your lips.
She kisses down your chest again, instantly feeling at ease, being able to see her movements, predict what she’ll do next. Her mouth finds its way down to your breasts, leaving open mouth kisses across them. She gives you a cock of her eyebrow before she moves over to your nipple.
She gently blew cold air, making your nipple peak, you watch as she smirks to herself at your body’s reaction. She then takes the peak into her mouth, sucking and letting her tongue run over it.
You feel yourself pull against the restraints, normally you’d be tangling your hands in her hair, scratching at her scalp and encouraging her to keep her mouth on your chest. But today you couldn’t.
So you just watched as she teased your nipple. She gently traced your nipple just using the tip of her tongue.
“Jessie.” You groan, bucking your hips which only causes you more frustration as her thigh is perfectly placed between your own thighs. When you thrust up, the pressure and friction of her muscular leg sends a jolt of pleasure in your core.
“What?” She says, playing oblivious with you, she tilts her head, giving you an innocent look.
“Fuck me.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“I mean actually fuck me, take my pants off and fuck me.”
“Ask nicely and I might.” Her eyes locked on yours, you felt small the way she was staring down at you. You liked it.
“Please Jessie, please fuck me, please.” You do your best to pair your words with a pleading look, hoping she’ll give in.
She does, Jessie could hold her own on the pitch, with friends, but when it came to you, especially you, naked, begging her to fuck you, she was putty in your hands.
“Good girl.” She nods down at you before pushing her thigh harder into you, she doesn’t stop you when you grind against her.
She reaches down, removing her own shirt, leaving her in a tight sports bra, your eyes taking a second to trail down her abdomen. You found yourself wishing you could run your fingers down her toned stomach, wishing you could be leaving a trail of goosebumps with your finger tips. But you couldn’t.
Her hands then strip you of your pants and underwear. She spreads your legs to come lay between them. She situates herself pulling your legs over her shoulders, her face just inches from your core. Just as she did with your nipples, she blows a cool breeze over you.
All you can do is watch as she sticks out her tongue, her eyes licked on yours as she licks a single stripe through your folds. You try and thrust for more contact, Jessie’s arms wrap around your thighs holding you firmly to the bed.
She gives a few more teasing licks before diving in fully, her lips wrapping around you, her tongue starting a relentless pace against your clit. You want to grab her hair, push her harder into you, pull on her, knowing how she’d react, instead you pull against the headboard.
“You taste divine.” She says looking up at you, your wetness across her face. “I could stay here all day.” She returns to licking and sucking, her tongue staying where you needed her.
You loved when Jessie ate you out, she knew what you liked, she knew how to lick and suck to get you moaning easily. You loved the way her brown eyes would look up at you, how you’d be able to feel her moan against you, getting pleasure from tasting you.
“You’re so good at that, fuck.” You throw your head back as Jessie increases her suction around your clit, giving it a few hard flicks with her tongue. You moan her name, making her moan into you in return.
She picks her head up for a second, leaving you longing for her mouth. “Tell me before you cum.” She looks at you. You nod, thinking she just wants to hear you tell her she’s making you cum.
You should’ve known better. “Jess, I’m close, I’m going to cum.” You warn her and she pulls away. “Jessssie.” You whine her name.
“What baby?” She looks up at you, head resting against your thigh.
“I was about to cum.”
“I know, that’s why I stopped.” She says before she blows cool air over your sensitive core again. A strangled moan comes out of your throat.
“More please.” You beg her. She gives in, her face meeting your pussy, her tongue returning to its motions before. Despite the break, you’re immediately put back on the edge. “Fuck, fuck, I’m-” before you even finish, Jessie pulls back again. You give her a frustrated look, you just wanted to cum.
It didn’t seem like you’d be cumming shortly as Jessie removes herself from between your legs. She gets off the bed and moves over to where the pile of toys sat. “Babe.” You whimper.
“Hang on beautiful, I’ll let you cum soon.” She turns back giving you a sweet smile before turning her focus back in front of her.
When she returns she’s got the small bullet vibrator in her hand, the harness around her hips with the new, slightly larger dildo attached to it.
“Babe, you’re supposed to put the vibrator in the pocket.” You nod at her trying to point toward the harness without using your hands. She climbs on the bed finding her place between your legs and nodding at you.
“I know, and I will. I just wanted to do this first.” Her left hand comes to your core, spreading you open. She takes the vibrator in her right hand, turns it on and places it against your clit. You try and pull your hips away, harder to do without the use of your upper body, you didn’t want to get sent over the edge yet. You try to close your legs but before you can, Jessie’s left hand moves to one thigh while her knee comes down to hold your other thigh.
“Jessie.” You let out a long drawn out whine of her name. You were going to cum if she kept you open like this.
“What baby? Feel good? Do you want to cum?” It was like she was taunting you.
“So good Jessie, please.” You were completely at her mercy, you couldn’t move away, you tried but Jessie’s strength kept you in place.
“You can cum baby.” As she says it she clicks the button on the vibrator, increasing the intensity of its movement. The new speed of the vibrator and your inability to move away had you immediately on the edge.
“Oh fuck.” Your hands tug hard against the headboard, you can feel the metal digging into your wrist you’re probably going to have marks on your wrists for a little while. Your legs began to tremble under Jessie hold, your back arched off the bed as your orgasm ripped through you.
You screwed your eyes shut, unable to use the rest of your body to ease into the orgasm, it hit you at full force. You let a deep groan come out, feeling yourself clench around nothing as you came, your clit quickly becoming overly sensitive.
You could hear Jessie talking to you, talking you through the pleasure she was giving you. Your ears ringing make it hard to understand her words but knowing she was talking to you was good enough.
Your orgasm consumed your senses, until you were just a whimpering mess under Jessie.
“Too much.” You managed to get out between gasps, Jessie pulled the vibrator away, listening to your needs. She moved her leg off of your thigh, letting you close your legs slightly. You can feel your muscles aching already from straining against her.
“So pretty.” Jessie lets a hand trail between your breasts and down to just above your pubic bone. “So pretty.” She repeats, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.
You close your eyes, feeling your energy drain as you continue to relax after your orgasm.
“You sleepy now, pretty girl?” Jessie whispers to you, placing a kiss to the skin just below your ear. “We can wait to try out the new strap.”
“No!” Your orgasm had taken away most of your energy but you still had the urge to be filled by Jessie. “I want it still, I want you inside of me.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jessie pulls away from you to sit back on her knees. She quickly pulls the harness away from her body to put the vibrator into the pocket. Her hands grab your thighs pulling you so your thighs rested on top of hers. Her hands stroked up and down your legs, the feeling relaxing your tight muscles.
“You’re dripping for me.” Jessie says running two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on her fingers. When she reaches your clit you jolt at the sensation, still feeling the aftermath of your orgasm. She quickly brings the fingers to her mouth, sucking them off and moaning at the taste of you.
When she’s done cleaning her fingers her hand falls between her legs to grasp the base of the new dildo, she gently begins rubbing the head between your legs, your slick wetting it. Her other hand leaves your thighs and grabs the bottle of lube on the nightstand. She squeezes a small amount onto the strap, using her hand to spread it.
In the store the new strap hadn’t appeared to be much bigger than your previous one. Now looking at it sitting between Jessie’s thighs, the girth was wider, the length was longer.
“Ready?” Jessie looks up from where she was still moving the tip over your skin.
“Yeah.” You widen your legs even more and Jessie sits up to put the strap to angle into your entrance. She uses her hand to guide the tip into you, before slowly beginning to thrust with her hips into you. It didn’t feel much different for the first few moments, a small stretch but nothing new.
When Jessie got about halfway, the stretch got more intense, beginning to border on uncomfortable. You sucked in air, trying to relax your body as much as possible, you wanted her inside of you. Normally you’d reach out, place a gentle pressure on Jessie’s hips or chest to let her know with your body to slow down, you couldn’t do that today. “Can you slow down a bit?” You finally ask when her next movement causes a sharp pain.
“Of course.” Jessie pauses her movement for a few seconds before pushing in again, even slower than before. “Better?”
“Yeah sorry it’s just bigger.”
“Don’t apologize baby.”
She continues to ease into you, taking her time, watching your face, your breathing, she’s watching your hands, how you’re gripping the headboard tighter when it starts to be uncomfortable, adjusting her pace accordingly.
When she finally bottoms out inside of you, she waits for you to tell her to move. When you buck your hips upwards into her lap with a small moan, she takes the hint and slowly begins to pull out of you. When she reaches the end she fully pulls out. You stop her when she goes to put the tip back against you.
“More lube please.” Jessie nods and grabs the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto the strap. She closes the bottle and begins to push back into you.
“Fuck.” The feeling of her entering a second time is only pleasure. The stretch is just enough to feel full while not being painful. “So good Jessie.”
Your words are enough to give Jessie the hint to speed up, she begins thrusting at a quicker, consistent pace. She doesn’t pull fully out each time, she pulls back just enough for the tip to stay inside of you, before she fills you back up.
She grabs your hips, holding you tight and giving herself more leverage to thrust into you. As she thrusts you begin to feel the warmth building up in your stomach again. “That’s good Jess.” You want to grab her, hold her close.
She picks up her pace and the force behind her thrusts, her movements causing your breasts to bounce, drawing Jessie’s attention down to them.
“You look so sexy taking all of me baby.” Jessie says, you feel your face flush, Jessie was never silent in bed but she hardly would praise you in the form of full sentences. She’d usually just let out some profanities, or moans of your name. Here she was praising you while she fucked you. It was making you feel tingly, making you overly aware of the vulnerability of your situation.
Your hands tied to the bed, your whole body on display for her, her movements in control of yours, she was in charge. She held the power.
Jessie’s hips stall for a second and you watch as she reaches into the harness, you quickly feel the vibrations and it’s clear Jessie does too. Her eyes widen, a smile coming across her face.
She starts thrusting again. You’re able to feel the vibrations through the strap, adding to your already building high. When Jessie fills you up this time, she grinds gently against you, you can tell she’s working the vibrator against herself.
“Oh fuck.” She lets out under her breath before thrusting again, repeating the grinding motion.
You can hear her breathing picking up, her chest rising and falling quicker, she starts pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Small noises of pleasure leave her mouth with each thrust.
“You feel so good, you’re going to make me cum.” Jessie’s movements become more shallow, the grinding more aggressive. The mixture of the constant fullness and the tingle of the vibrator sends you over the edge, your thighs wrap hard around Jessie’s waist. You pull hard on your wrists, thinking for a second you’ll maybe snap the chain holding the cuffs.
“Cumming Jess,” is all you’re able to get out as your pussy clenches hard around Jessie’s strap as she works herself through for her own pleasure. She throws her head back with a moan before collapsing down over your own body.
She quickly reaches into the harness turning off the vibrator to not overstimulate either of you. You both lay chest to chest for a minute, the sound of heavy breathing filling the air. Jessie then lifts herself up, the strap still buried in between your legs.
“Alright if I pull out?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is hoarse, the sleepy feeling from before returning. She pulls out, letting the strap rest against your stomach as she reaches over to grab the handcuff key. She reaches up, unlocking both of your wrists. She takes your wrists in her hands, looking them over and seeing the red rub marks. “Oh baby, you’re hurt!” She lets her thumbs rub over where the metal had indented into your skin from you fighting against them. The skin stung a little bit, but you didn’t mind.
“Oh it’s nothing babe, it’s fine.” You reassure her, not wanting her to think she caused you pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She looks up from where her thumbs traced the markings. “You must’ve been pulling hard against them.”
“Yeah, a little bit.”
“Good though?”
“Yeah, I really liked it, not just the handcuffs, all of it, your control, the edging, the way you were speaking to me.” You bring your hands to cover your face, feeling shy admitting you liked being at her mercy.
“Good to know.” She smiles at you. “Do you need anything? Water? a snack? I’ll get you some cream for your wrists.”
“Yeah that’s good, shower and then maybe snack time in bed?”
“Sure honey.” Jessie places a kiss on your forehead before getting up and removing the harness from around her hips. She takes off her sports bra and her boxers and then reaches her hands out to you.
“Come here.” You give her your hands and let her help pull you up from the bed. Your legs feel weak when you stand, Jessie’s arm wraps around your waist as she gently guides you into the bathroom.
The two of you shower, Jessie washes your hair and body, just letting you relax under the water. When you get out she wraps you in a fresh towel and brings you to the counter to put some ointment onto your wrists, you managed to rub off a few layers of skin from pulling against the handcuffs. She places bandaids over the sores and kisses just below them.
She then helps you put on sweatpants and gives you one of her shirts. She tucks you into bed with a quick peck to the lips. “I’ll be right back.” She leaves, only to come back a few minutes later with popcorn, some candy, and water.
The two of you snack, you’re cuddled up into Jessie’s chest, one arm across her waist, drawing circles on her stomach under her shirt. She rests one arm around your back, giving you gentle scratches on your lower back. Her other hand was holding the popcorn bowl.
You both put on a movie, it doesn’t take long until you’re feeling yourself doze off. Between your exhaustion and the sound of Jessie’s heartbeat in your ear, the feeling of her warmth and her fingers scratching your back, you fall asleep, feeling safe wrapped in the arms of your girlfriend.
#jessie fleming#jflem#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#jessie fleming blurb#jessie fleming smut
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HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS
...
and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺
HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3
simon riley betrays you pt. 2
simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist
☆ ☆ ☆
-miraculously, they let you go.
-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.
-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?
-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.
-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.
-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.
-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.
-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?
-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.
-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.
-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."
-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.
-"c'mon jus' let me-"
-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.
-oh, thank god.
-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.
-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.
-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."
-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.
-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?
-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"
-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?
-"no. never."
-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.
-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.
-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.
-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."
-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"
-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.
-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"
-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"
-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.
-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.
-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."
-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.
-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.
-"what?"
"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.
-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).
-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.
-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?
-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.
-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.
-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."
-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.
-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."
-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.
-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."
-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.
-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.
-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.
-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.
-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.
-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."
-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.
-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.
-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rarawrites
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⌗ 𝘏𝘖𝘛𝘋 𝘔- 𝘈𝘜 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( ♡ )
— 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯, 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 <3
˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬
𝓖𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵
1. Protective Glances: In crowded spaces, Aegon subtly positions himself to ensure you're always within his sight, offering a sense of security without words.
2. Exclusive Sneak Peeks: Aegon shares details of his day or personal projects with you before anyone else, valuing your opinion above all.
3. Unexpected Gifts: Small, thoughtful gifts appear from Aegon, each telling a story or sharing a part of himself, from shows he loves to gadgets he swears by.
4. Deep Conversations: He engages you in long, meaningful conversations, genuinely interested in your thoughts and dreams, often losing track of time.
5. Social Media Engagement: Aegon, not one for public displays, consistently likes, comments, and shares your posts, a digital nod to his affection.
6. Impromptu Visits: Aegon makes surprise visits, often with your favorite drink in hand, turning an ordinary moment into something special.
7. Protective Escort: He insists on walking you home after a night out, a silent guardian in the bustling city, making sure you're safe and sound.
8. Handpicked Flowers: Instead of store-bought bouquets, Aegon prefers giving you flowers he's picked himself, each selection meaningful and personal.
9. Sincere Compliments: Aegon's compliments are always genuine and specific, focusing on qualities he admires about you, from your laugh to your resilience.
10. Cooking Attempts: Not one for the kitchen, Aegon nevertheless tries his hand at cooking your favorite meal, a labor of love however it turns out.
𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 ─ ⸸ . ♡𝆬
𝓐𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓔𝔂𝓮𝓼
1. Empathetic Listener: Aemond pays close attention when you speak, his singular gaze locked on you, showing you're the only person in the room.
2. Adventure Partner: He's always suggesting new and exciting activities to try together, from skydiving to scuba diving, eager to make new memories with you.
3. Tattoo Companions: Aemond is passionate about tattoos and enjoys going with you to get matching or complementary tattoos, each one telling a story of your relationship.
4. Deep Trust: He shares secrets with you that he's never told anyone else, his eyes gaze softening, a sign of deep trust and affection.
5. Handwritten Notes: In an age of digital communication, Aemond leaves handwritten notes for you to find, each word a testament to his growing feelings.
6. Motorcycle Rides: Aemond takes you on thrilling motorcycle rides, the world a blur as you share the exhilaration of speed and freedom.
7. Protective Jacket: On chilly nights, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, a silent but warm gesture of care.
8. Unexpected Calls: Aemond prefers calls over texts, wanting to hear your voice and share moments in real-time, however brief they may be.
9. Steadfast Presence: In moments of need, Aemond is there without question, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.
10. Adventure Planning: He's always plotting your next adventure together, each one more ambitious than the last, eager to explore the world by your side.
𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 ─ ✦ . ♡𝆬
𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻
1. Spontaneous Trips: Daeron invites you on spontaneous road trips, each destination a surprise, creating a tapestry of shared adventures.
2. Early Morning Calls: He calls you early in the morning just to hear your voice, often before an early flight, making you the start of his day.
3. Gentle Teasing: Daeron teases you gently, a sparkle in his eyes, always quick to laugh and quicker to make you laugh as well.
4. Shared Hobbies: He takes an interest in your hobbies, even if it means stepping out of his comfort zone, from painting classes to cooking lessons.
5. Caring Gestures: Small acts of care, like making sure you've eaten or that you're dressed warmly, are Daeron's way of showing his affection.
6. Surprise Pickups: Daeron shows up unexpectedly to give you a ride, turning mundane commutes into opportunities for connection.
7. Night Sky Gazing: He shares his love for astronomy by inviting you to stargaze, a telescope and whispered stories enhancing the experience.
8. Photography Hobby: He has taken up photography as a hobby and loves capturing candid moments of you, creating a scrapbook filled with memories of your time together.
9. Shared Dreams: He's keen to discuss future aspirations, dreaming out loud with you and intertwining your hopes with his.
10. Genuine Interest: Daeron takes an interest in your interests, genuinely wanting to learn and participate, be it in art, music, or literature.
𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍 ─ 𖤐 . ♡𝆬
𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓯𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓻
1. Coffee Companion: Jace makes it a point to learn your coffee order by heart, bringing you your favorite blend each morning, a silent testament to his attentiveness.
2. Playlist Curator: He crafts playlists filled with songs that remind him of you, each track a lyrical confession of his burgeoning feelings.
3. Texts First: No matter how busy his day, Jace sends you good morning and goodnight texts, ensuring he's the first and last person you talk to every day.
4. Meme Sharer: He sends memes and funny videos that he knows will make you laugh, hoping to be the reason behind your smile.
5. Stargazing Invites: Jace finds any excuse to share moments with you under the night sky, pointing out constellations and sharing tales of the sea, his voice soft under the moonlight.
6. Late-Night Snack Runs: Jace knows your favorite comfort food and surprises you with late-night deliveries, ensuring you have something sweet to end a hard day.
7. Sneaky Selfies: He sends you selfies from wherever he is, often with hidden messages or inside jokes only you would understand, making you feel connected no matter the distance.
8. Watch Parties: Jace organizes virtual movie nights for just the two of you, sharing screens and laughter over films that have become your shared favorites.
9. Consistent Check-ins: Throughout the day, Jace checks in, not just with texts but with voice messages too, so you can hear the smile in his voice.
10. Personalized Gifts: He's all about giving gifts that mean something to you both, like a custom keychain of a quote from your favorite book or a playlist for every mood.
𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 ─ ＊ . ♡𝆬
𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓲𝓬 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽
1. Quiet Support: Cregan offers unwavering support for your dreams and ambitions, his encouragement steady and strong like the ancient trees of the North.
2. Intimate Walks: He loves taking long walks with you, through city parks or along snow-dusted trails, where conversations flow freely.
3. Shared Silences: Comfortable silences are common, where simply being in each other's presence is enough, a silent language of love.
4. Book Exchanges: Cregan shares his favorite books with you, each one holding a special meaning, inviting you into the world of his thoughts.
5. Warm Embraces: His hugs are rare but meaningful, enveloping you in warmth and safety, a silent confession of his deep affection.
6. Morning Runs: Cregan invites you on morning runs, a peaceful time to share together before the world wakes up.
7. Handcrafted Items: He enjoys woodworking and makes you items, each piece imbued with care and thoughtfulness, from bookends to picture frames.
8. Quiet Evenings: Cregan prefers quiet evenings in, cooking together and sharing stories by the fireplace, valuing intimacy and connection.
9. Nature Escapes: He plans escapes to the countryside, believing that a walk in nature is a perfect way to reconnect and share in the beauty of the world.
10. Silence Support: Cregan offers a shoulder to lean on, a rock in turbulent times, his support unwavering and given without a need for words.
@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.
#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen#house targaryen#hotd#house of dragons#aemond targaryen#a song of ice and fire#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#modern hotd#aemond x reader#daeron the daring#daeron targaryen#jace velaryon#jace x reader#jace velaryon x reader#cregan stark#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#hotd x reader#house of dragons x reader#hotd fanfic#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond fic#hotd jace#aegon ii#asoiaf
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Part Six of the Catboy in the Village AU
Parts: 1|2|3|4|5
-
There's something in the castle, and it's weird.
It's silent save for its footsteps. It follows Cellbit and his forcibly-assigned guard wherever he goes, but it doesn't follow Roier and his guard. It isn't the queen, because she has been there several times when the Something has been hiding in Cellbit's shadow.
It isn't doing anything. Maybe it's just spying on Cellbit, but that's a given. He's been watched for a long time, probably, based off of how much the queen seems to know about him, but the Something just... doesn't feel like a spy? Its presence feels too small to be a threat, and yet it's been following Cellbit for at least an hour every day since his forced stay in the healer's quarters. Why? And, more importantly, what?
Since his stay in the healer's quarters, and since Roier was finally given permission to make himself and Cellbit their own (non-poisoned) meals, Cellbit has slowly, but steadily, begun his investigation of Castelo do Gato. He's been accompanied by his guard the whole time, but his guard also doesn't give a shit about what he's doing so long as he isn't escaping or trying to kill the queen, so Cellbit really doesn't think that he needs to be concerned about any information leaking to the queen.
His information as of day four of his investigation, and as of his eighth day of being kidnapped, is as follows:
The queen has only been queen for a couple of months now, and her first directive was a global search for her long-lost twin brother. Her name is Bagi, and she is very annoying, and Cellbit kind of hates her a lot.
There aren't as many staff in the castle as there should be. This makes sense; the previous king and queen were famously secretive, especially after their son's disappearance and the outbreak of the war. More staff is being hired, but there's a thorough screening process involved that the queen herself oversees.
The castle's healer's name is Niki. She's very nice, and she's better at potion making than Cellbit is. She's one of the queen's closer friends, and she's been with the castle since the previous king and queen were in charge.
The castle's mage's name is Mouse. She claims to be a demon, but not the demon, and she thinks that the demon haunting the castle needs to go to therapy because earthquakes and flames are not healthy forms of self expression. She draws her sigils with blood, and Cellbit really likes her.
The demon shows up once a week and shakes the castle and tears through the halls screaming. This only started when the queen took the throne (go figure.)
The missing brother went missing at 11 years old, and his name... was Cellbit, but he's a different Cellbit. There are no portraits of him in most of the castle upon the orders of the previous king, who was with the prince the day he vanished.
Everybody keeps talking about empanadas for some fucking reason, especially Niki and Mouse. The queen goes silent every time.
The investigation would probably be easier if Cellbit could force the queen to, like, act normally and tell him the truth, but she's a lost cause. She nearly threw her bowl of soup at Cellbit at dinner when he casually mentioned to Roier wanting to get a new pair of goggles to pin his ears back with, she's crazy.
But Cellbit isn't an idiot. He may have been a serial killer in his previous life, but he also spent a few years doing odd jobs and investigations around his and Roier's hometown. It's how they met, and it's how Cellbit is going to get them back home and to their kids.
So Cellbit investigates. He gets himself a notebook from the queen, who seemed relieved that he was doing something other than trying to murder her for once. He snoops around the castle, claiming that he's trying to get to know the building and the staff now that he's been "brought back home." (Saying that is enough to make him gag, but it's what works.) He goes to the library. He takes a nap in the courtyard on Roier's chest.
He steals Niki's spare pair of potion-making goggles, and he puts them on. He ignores the pain; he's used to it, after all.
And he's followed by the Something in the shadows.
Roier thinks that it's the queen stalking him, but Cellbit really doesn't. He's been in the same room with the queen and the Something, and stalking isn't the queen's style. She's bold with her moves, something that Cellbit almost admires about her. Almost.
(It's just nice to see a queen talk to both her staff and her citizens. That's all.)
But Cellbit goes to the library even with his little stalker, and that's where he is now. Researching. Looking into the royal genealogy records for any depiction of the prince- a painting, a sketch, anything.
There's a Something under the table by his knee. He can feel it breathing on him even through his trousers; its breaths are short and warm and almost panicked, hm. Maybe it shouldn't be creeping around if it can't handle the psychology of being a creep.
Cellbit's guard is almost asleep on a nearby sofa. Cellbit lets him sleep, he doesn't give a shit.
He flips through Volume Seven of Família De Gato. He's at the old king and queen's grandparents, so he's getting close. He can practically taste the prince: bitter, and dead.
So dead.
Absently, Cellbit adjusts his legs under the table. He crosses them, accidentally kicking the Something in the head as he does so.
And then he hears it: a near-silent little, "Ouch!"
"Desculpe," Cellbit tells it, because he isn't that much of a monster.
There's a gasp, tiny, and then the chair across from Cellbit shoves itself back from the table in a clear panic. The pages of Cellbit's book fly as a running breeze hits them as the Something takes off.
Cellbit glances at his guard. Asleep, wow, great!
With a grin, he licks his lips. And then he's out of his chair and running after the invisible Something with his pen clutched in his hand like a knife and his notebook held in his other hand.
The Something screeches as Cellbit swipes at it with his notebook hand. He whiffs, but his fingers brush against what is clearly hair. Human hair, he knows what human hair feels like, he's brushed his teeth with it plenty of times!
The Something blows through the library's door, Cellbit close behind. He can hear his guard shouting somewhere behind him, but fuck him. He fell asleep, this is clearly his fault!
Sometimes in the war, the Enemy would cast a spell that sent a dark fog over the battlefield. Cellbit had to rely on his hearing to survive.
He doesn't need to see the Something to know where it is. He can even guess how tall it is based off of how loud its footsteps are. It's... small. Light. Very fast, but still slower than a grown man.
Cellbit blinks as the air in front of him flickers. Something appears before him briefly before fading out again: something, indeed, small. Pink. Yellow.
Cellbit knows a fading invisibility potion when he sees it, he's tested them on himself enough times.
It's enough to give him the confidence to lunge and scoop the Something up and into his arms. He holds it against his chest and can't help but let out a brief, triumphant laugh.
"Finally!" he cheers.
And then a foot is driven backwards and right into his junk.
Cellbit groans and drops the Something, and then he drops himself right onto the floor and watches as the Something becomes a Someone in front of him. Their potion wears off fully, revealing a red-faced and exhausted little girl standing above him with her hands on her hips.
"Don't touch me!" she shouts.
Cellbit nods. Fair enough. "Yeah, okay. Hello."
The girl takes a step backwards. Her dress, pink, is made of fine silk. Her skin, dark, has little golden stars painted onto her cheeks like freckles. Her hair, wavy, falls into her face. Her hat looks like pancakes, clearly custom-made. It sits right on top of her head between two twitching, nervous, fuzzy little cat ears.
Ah?
Only members of the royal family, and Cellbit, have cat features. So does this make this girl...?
Slowly, Cellbit sits himself up. He looks down at his notebook, flips to a clean page. Puts his pen to paper. Looks back up at the girl.
She looks... upset. Mildly so. More uncomfortable than anything, she keeps patting her dress down and wiping at her abdomen with the palms of her hands.
"I'm sorry I grabbed you," Cellbit tells her.
She glances up at him with a small frown. "It's okay. I probably scared you."
Cellbit shrugs. "Eh, only a little. I've been followed by worse things than children."
Her eyes widen. "Really?"
"Mhmm. One time, I was followed around town by a half-man, half-spider for months."
She gasps. Cellbit nods. (He's sure Roier wouldn't mind being called a Spider-Man. He'd probably take it as a compliment, knowing him.)
"I'm just curious, really," Cellbit continues. "You live in a castle, what are you doing following a weird guy like me around?"
Immediately, the girl shakes her head and sticks her chin out. "I can't tell you. It's a secret."
Cellbit nods again. "That makes sense. You were invisible and everything. I didn't know you were there until a few minutes ago."
"Really?"
"Yes! You just need to work on your timing. Even if I didn't chase you out of the library, I would've found you because your potion would have run out right next to me."
The girl's face falls. "Oh."
"Don't worry, I'll write down some information on invisibility potions for you for later," Cellbit assures her. "Here..."
He scribbles out a simple potion schedule for a potion of average strength. Potions last for fifteen minutes, no potions for six hours after you take three potions in a row unless you want your skin to vanish but your insides to remain visible.
And then he tears the page out of his notebook and holds it out for the girl to take.
The girl stares at it.
"You... aren't angry that I'm following you around?" she quietly asks.
"Nope. You seem like a nice girl, even if your mom is kind of a weirdo. Just don't follow me into my cell with Roier, and you can keep following me around."
Her nose wrinkles. "Don't you mean your bedroom?"
Cellbit opens his mouth to argue, but he's stopped by his guard turning the corner and running towards them shouting vague assertive noises.
Cellbit rolls his eyes and puts his pen and notebook away. So much for today's research...
The guard's eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him.
"Your highness!" he gasps.
He drops to his knee and bows his head, his fist to his chest in a salute.
Cellbit huffs, but the girl just smiles and skips forward to pat the guard's helmet and tell him to stand.
"Yes, Princess Empanada," he says. "Whatever you say!"
...Princess Empanada.
Well. This explains a lot of confusion.
But... if the queen is sure that Cellbit is her brother, why hasn't she introduced him to her daughter? Unless... she isn't sure.
Unless she isn't sure.
Bingo. Maybe she can see reason, after all.
#a.d.'s fics i suppose#a.d.'s fics i suppose.#catboy in the village au#and here's our little detective!#she's doing such a good job everybody clap for her
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Art and Ice - New Perceptions
Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.
Summery: This kinda a filler chapter, some cute fluffy moments between Bucky and Doodle happen.
This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)
Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)
Word Court: 3539
Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️
Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3
Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
It wasn’t a surprise that your college finished out the regular season on top. Your college was known across the country for its sports programs.
It didn’t surprise you when Bucky showed up with a bright cocky smile the day after the last away game. “Ooooh Doodle!” He said in a sing-song voice.
You looked over your shoulder setting the paint brush down, raising an eyebrow at him, “yeeees Bucky?” You matched his tone perfectly. With all the away games you haven’t seen him since the weekend, you have made some decent progress on the painting of him. You were giddy to show him what you completed in his absence.
“Guess who scored a date with Mandy, the head cheerleader?” He was beaming. Your heart sank momentarily, your facial expression dropping slightly before you composed yourself and gave him your best dazzling smile.
“I’m not sure Buck, I’ve always been terrible at guessing games,” you murmured, trying to hide the discontent in your voice as you looked back at the canvas to compose yourself. He didn’t seem to pick up on your change in mood.
“Ah come on Doodle, I’ll give you a hint. He’s charming, on the hockey team and incredibly sexy,” he sounded so cock sure.
You turned to face him and tapped the end of the brush on your lip, feigning that you were deep in thought and then a bright smile split across your face.
“Oh! I know who it is,” you said excitedly. “Sam!” You faked enthusiasm before turning back to the painting but not before catching his face drop for a moment.
“Pfft, he’s about as charming as an out of tune piano,” Bucky deflected. “Come on Doodle, it’s easy.”
“They’re easy huh?” You mused. “So must be you then,” you said flatly without missing a beat. He laughed awkwardly behind you.
“Uh, yeah it’s me,” his cocksure attitude was gone and he sounded a little deflated.
“That’s nice Buck, have fun,” you said quietly.
“It’s not until tomorrow night,” he said, “I wanted to come hang out with you tonight,” your heart clenched and you bit your knuckle to stop the pang of hurt that threatened to crush you, you didn’t trust your voice at the moment so you just nodded.
“How much of the painting have you done?” He asked quickly, changing the topic. You were grateful. “Last time I saw it you just had some base colours on.”
You had the puck almost done, you were painting as if the puck was being shot at the person viewing it. Slightly different from your original idea, but you liked how it was turning out. Bucky was now standing next to you and you could smell the deep woody and amber tones of his cologne. He always smelled good, even after playing a game or practice. It was something you appreciated about him, Thor would smell like a locker room after practice. It was awful.
You quickly focused back on the canvas and not how much you wanted to stick your nose into the crook of Bucky’s throat and inhale the heady scent he wore. This little crush was getting out of hand, you needed to squash it quickly.
“That looks amazing, Doodle,” Bucky said in awe as he looked at the painting. “How do you make it seem so real?”
“Practice, and a little luck,” you said with a shrug. Bucky moved out of the way when you picked the brush up and started to work on it again. “The inspiration was also a big help,” you looked over your shoulder at him and winked. He gave you a dazzling smile back. “What are you doing today?” He had pulled some books and notes out on the table and was staring down at them.
“I’m studying for my astronomy final,” he said, his tongue caught between his teeth. His arm crossed over his chest and the other hand held his chin as he looked down at his notes.
“Mind if I put some music on?” He hummed and you clicked the play button and let the music wash over you. You got to work, getting lost in the music and the brush strokes.
The soft notes of Work Song by Hozier played soothingly over the speaker and you hummed softly along to the song and swayed gently back and forth. You jumped when you felt Bucky’s hand cup your shoulder and slide down your arm clasping your hand in his.
“Can’t have a pretty thing like you dancing by herself,” he said softly. He pulled you to him and started to sway you two gently to the beat. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute, your cheeks were a bright shade of red as you hid your face against his firm chest.
He moved you two effortlessly, he guided you in a small sway. He was smiling down at the top of your head as you leaned your cheek to his chest. His hand held the small of your back gently to him.
You couldn’t believe this was happening, he was dancing with you randomly. It was completely out of the blue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. He was firm and warm under your touch. He held like you were as fragile as blown glass, his touch feather light and respectful. You usually hated dancing but something about this moment felt right.
As the song came to close and Bucky took a step back from you, you started to miss the contact as quickly as you lost it. He was smiling down at you and kissed you knuckles of the hand he had been holding at the time. “Thank you for the dance m’lady,” he tipped his chin and gave you a devilish smile. You couldn’t find words to express who you felt at the moment.
“Thank you kind sir,” you stuttered back. He laughed his beautiful rich as chocolate laugh and made his way back to his studying and you went back to your painting feeling lighter than before. The pit in your stomach growing deeper, you could still feel his warm hand on your waist and the way he held you so carefully.
“Loki I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you whined as you draped over his lap dramatically. You had texted him “code red” before you left the art studio, Bucky had offered to drop you off at your apartment but you declined like you usually did. Code red meaning ‘I need you please come get me.’ Which he did without hesitation.
“Darling you’re being a little dramatic,” he ran his fingers through your hair trying to sooth your nerves.
“Loki, I’m not being dramatic. We had this whole conversation about just being friends and spending time together without him waiting to get me in bed,” you exclaimed.
“Which he probably still does,” Loki added, you glared at him.
“Not the point, how can that conversation mean anything if I can’t even hold myself to it,” you said in an exasperated tone. “Loki, he danced with me, out of the blue. Just took my hand and danced with me,” you peaked up at Loki who was running his long fingers through your hair, he had an unreadable expression. “Who does that nowadays, it’s something my grandpa would do with nana.”
“Little brother,” Hela’s sing-song voice called as she poked her head into the room. “Oh hello sweetling! I didn’t know you were visiting,” she smiled at you. You had always liked Helena, she was always nice to you. She gave Loki and Thor shit when we were teens and they were acting like typical teenage boys, insensitive and immature. She looked you over, draped over Loki’s lap, your arm thrown over your eyes. You looked miserable, she entered the room further and sat down on the edge of Loki’s bed and gently touched your shoulder.
“What’s the matter sweetling,” she asked soothingly.
“Nothing Hela, stupid feelings and a crush a stupid boy,” you whined. She laughed at that.
“Men tend to be like that, this is why I like women,” she chuckled. “Seriously sweetling, it can’t be that bad, who is it?” She asked softly. Her eyes drifted to Loki for a moment and he made a face.
“Bucky Barnes,” you groaned. Hela’s eyes widened and she groaned.
“You’re telling me you’re upset over that overgrown toddler on skates?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, you looked at her, god she was so pretty. You nodded and sighed heavily.
“I know, I know. He’s just so.... Ugh.” Loki chuckled and Hela glared at him. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles soothingly.
“You know a couple years back he tried asking me out. I rejected him. He called me a stuck up bitch,” she said, you raised your arm off your eyes and looked at her. “He wouldn’t even let me tell him I had no interest in men, especially younger men.” You nodded and that was what Loki meant when he was rude to Hela. “He later saw me with Val on a date. He felt like an idiot and apologised for how he acted.”
“He did?” Loki asked, he sounded surprised. Hela nodded.
“He learned his lesson. Learned a few things too. From my understanding he’s not as pushy as he used to be,” Hela added. “Shame what happened with his girlfriend and her sudden departure to Alaska. He was apparently a lot different when she was here. She broke his heart. It doesn’t excuse his behaviour but it definitely gives perspective.”
“You know Nat mentioned that he had a long term relationship that suddenly ended,” you said back, thinking back.
“Val knew her better than I ever did, she apparently just packed up and left. No explanation, not warning. She was just gone. Barnes was devastated,” Hela said thoughtfully.
“Huh, well that definitely adds perspective,” you agreed.
“It doesn’t excuse his behaviour though,” Loki reiterated. You and Hela nodded in agreement.
“What should I do?” You asked Loki after Hela left. He sighed and looked down at you, eyes swimming with uncertainty.
“I’m not sure darling, if you told him what do you think would happen?” Loki asked softly.
“He would probably pick up on trying to sleep with me again,” you groaned.
You ended up spending the night at Loki’s house with him, falling asleep on his bed.
“You know, it's a good thing you don’t share a bed with anyone,” Loki shoved you away from the centre of the bed. “You’re a fucking bed hog,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his groggy disgruntled voice.
“Apologies Loki,” you laughed as he huffed.
“Bull shit,” he exclaimed while standing up and going into his ensuite bathroom. You stood and leaned against the door frame while Loki pulled a brush through his hair and did his skin care routine. “Do you want me to bring you home so you can change and stuff?
“I would appreciate it,” you smiled at him.
“Morning Wands,” you called as you came through the front door, Loki right behind you, he grabbed your coat and hung it up as you pulled it off.
“In here,” she called out as the toaster popped. You and Loki walked into the kitchen together. “Morning Loki,” she gave him a dazzling smile, which he returned.
“I’m making cinnamon toast and eggs, hungry?” She asked.
“I’d love some, I’m going to grab a quick shower and change.”
“Princessa!” Peitro wrapped you in a hug tightly as he walked behind you and snagged a piece of toast off your plate.
“Get your own,” you batted his hand away.
“But I want yours,” he teased. You heard Wanda and Loki chuckle at you both.
“I have a plate for you too, stop stealing hers,” Wanda ushered him over.
“What plans do you have today?” Wanda asked as she sat down next to you. You looked to Loki, it was his turn to plan the Saturday plans.
“The new book I’ve been waiting on is finally here so we have to stop by the bookstore in town,” Loki said, “then I think we’ll drive up the coast, we need pictures for our photography class.” You smiled at him, so thoughtful. “Then maybe some dinner and a stroll through the park,” he finished.
“God Loki you’re making me look like a terrible boyfriend,” Pietro whined, you snorted into your juice and leaned back laughing loudly.
“Maybe you should take notes,” Loki teased. You and Wanda were laughing together. Loki was an incredibly thoughtful friend. That’s why you adored him so much. But that’s where it ended. You two were the best of friends and that was where the line was drawn and there was never a need to cross it. It took time for people to understand your friendship and the boundaries you two had in place.
“Sounds like a fun day,” Wanda said thoughtfully.
“What about you Wands? Vis is still abroad isn’t he?” She nodded at your question.
“I’m going to practise with Pietro, it’s a nice day to be out in the sun,” she answered. “Vis gets back next week.”
“I had fun today,” you said softly as you and Loki walked through the park after having supper at a sweet little Mexican restaurant. Loki had his hand on the small of your back guiding you and keeping you close.
“I did too,” he hummed. You two walked around a little more, taking a seat on a bench to watch the setting sun. You looked out over the green space and saw some couples sitting in the grass relaxing. One couple caught your attention.
“Is that bucky?” You said quietly, tipping your head in his direction. Loki squinted and nodded.
Bucky was sitting a little ways away leaning back on his hands. Mandy sat next to him completely ignoring him. Something twisted in your heart as you looked at him looking up at the sky and she was scrolling her phone. Loki rubbed your shoulder soothingly. Drawn back to him you gave Loki a sad smile.
“She probably just wants to sleep with him,” Loki whispered. You nodded in agreement.
“He likes space a lot. He’s talking to her and she is not even pretending to listen,” it broke your heart. Soon his date leaned over and they got up from their spot. He trailed behind her as they waltzed across the green space toward Bucky’s truck. You watched him follow after her like some love sick puppy.
But then for a brief moment his eyes connected with yours. His eyes narrowed in on you and he paused for the briefest moment as he looked at you across the field. You couldn’t place the look in his eyes, but it was something akin to longing, maybe you couldn’t be sure. As soon as it started it ended and Bucky was gone with Mandy into his truck.
“Darling,” Loki’s smooth voice filled your ears and you looked at him. “You okay?” You nodded and sighed.
“I think so,” you mumbled while shaking your head to clear it.
You didn’t see much of Bucky over the next few days, practice and studying seemed to completely take over his days. He would text you little updates, ask how your day was going, remind you to drink and eat snacks. Your phone going off startled you out of the trance you were in.
It was a FaceTime request from Bucky. You slide the answer button and gaze at him with a quizzical look. “Hello,” you chuckled, propping the phone on the easel.
“Hey doodle,” his hair was wet and he was shirtless, you tried to not look at his shoulders. “Miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“Like a toothache Bucky,” you mused. Your shirt rode up as you stretched your arm to reach up on the canvas. Your phone left you a perfect anglee for Bucky’s eyes to follow the now revealed skin. You didn’t catch him licking his lips at you.
“I’m hurt doodle,” he feigned hurt and clutched his hand over his heart being dramatic which made you laugh. There was a sudden knock on the art studio door, you looked over your shoulder and then back at the phone. Bucky was trying really hard to not look suspicious.
“What did you do?” You asked as you grabbed the phone and opened the door, you looked down and he shrugged. Opening the door you were greeted by a delivery driver. You raised an eyebrow and squinted at him.
“Delivery for Doodle?” The driver said, he looked completely over the day and didn’t bat an eye at the nickname.
“I didn’t order,” you looked down at your phone and were met with Bucky’s shit eating grin. “You cheeky bastard,” you accused him. “Thank you,” you took the food and sat down at the table in the art room.
“Thanks Bucky,” you were touched. He had ordered your favourite, everything completely how you liked it. You had only ever ordered this once in his presence, weeks ago. He remembered. “You even remember the extra sauce,” you could feel tears well up in your eyes from how sweet of a gesture it was. You quickly rubbed the tears away and smiled at him.
Everyone in your life had been so busy you barely spoke to them, Bucky had been the most consistent person by far. You didn’t blame the others, you had barely kept in touch being swapped with final projects and finals. Everyone was just busy. The fact he took the time to send you food, made your heart soar.
“I figured we could eat together,” Bucky said as he sat up and positioned the phone so his hands were free and you could see his full torso and face. You almost choked on air seeing him. He was fucking hot, you stoped the that train of thought immediately and looked at his face and not his peaks or squishy tummy. He was a big dude, firm but soft looking. You wanted to run your fingers over his torso.
“I’d like that,” you were impressed with how composed you sounded in that moment.
“How’s the projects going?” He asked. You shrugged and sighed.
“They're going. I’m almost done with three of them and I finished the last one this afternoon,” he nodded. Silence fell over you two again but it wasn’t uncomfortable. That was something you noticed shortly after his visits to art studios became more frequent, silence with him was comfortable and you never felt the innate urge to fill it. “How’s studying?”
“Good, the practicals will be easy. I hate written exams,” Bucky was a kinesiology major, doing astrology classes for electives. What surprised you early on was that he was actually doing well in classes. It made you question those Reddit comments you read saying he cared little for academics. He wasn’t a valedictorian or anything but he was passing with 3.1 GPA overall. You weren’t surprised when he mentioned he wasn't interested in the arts, and that he only did the two mandatory English classes.
“You got this,” you said to him with a smile.
“So do you,” he gave you a dazzling smile back. “I'm sorry I haven’t been coming to visit,” he said quietly.
“It’s okay, we’re all busy right now. I haven’t seen Nat in 4 days, she was hauled up in the dance studio getting ready for her practicals and the final performance,” you shrugged, the performance arts program did a big show at the end of exams the whole campus was invited to purchase tickets for. The funds raised went toward funding future projects. You had your ticket, and an extra because Loki had bought his and forgot to tell you.
“She hasn’t been at practice either, Barton has been insufferable,” Bucky said with a mock exasperated sigh.
“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled and smiled at Bucky, he admired the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile like that.
“You’re still coming Friday?” Bucky asked.
“Of course,” you nodded. “Actually I have a question to ask you,” he looked at you attentively and waited. “I have an extra ticket to the performing arts final show after exams, did you want to come with me?” You didn’t build your hopes so high that he would say yes. “If you don…”
“Yeah, love too Doodle,” he cut you off. Your face lights up with a bright smile.
“Awesome,” you cheered excitedly, you wouldn’t soon forget the beautiful smile that graced his face, you both looked into each other for a moment, smiles morning one another. You didn’t want to look away from him, his eyes snapped from yours at the sound of a crash from another room and some yelling.
“Dammit Scott,” Bucky groaned and looked at you apologetically. “Gotta go Doodle, I’m going to try and swing by the art room tomorrow.”
“Bye Bucky,” you waved at him as he waved the call ended. You saT back in the chair for a moment before giving up for the night and packing up to go home.
AN: Thank you all so much for reading! I've have been really enjoying writing this series!
Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana, @charmedbysarge, @blackbirdwitch22
Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list!
#bucky barnes x doodle#hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader#college!bucky#college au#college fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x you#bucky barnes#fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction
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PICK A CARD: How you should manifest
Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! In here I will give you a reading on what way you should manifest. I hope you guys enjoy and find this interesting.
Masterpost > Paid Readings
~pick a card~
Pile 1:
Law of assumption would be the best way for you to manifest. Basically it means that your assumptions, expectations and beliefs about yourself and everything around you influence your life in a while. One should use their imagination in such a way that what they wish to achieve they already have; because they do. According to the principle of Law of Assumption, reality is subjective. You can shape your reality by your assumptions and beliefs.
So whatever it is you want to manifest, assume you already have it; because you do. Completely convince yourself of the matter, and you will manifest anything you want in the blink of an eye.
Pile 2:
Subliminals. Subliminals would be the best way for you to manifest. Subliminals stand for ‘subliminal messages’ are messages which can be both auditory and visual, designed to influences someone’s thoughts, beliefs and behaviours. The messages in whatever it is you’re listening to or watching are played on a certain frequence that is below conscious hearing. Subliminals are meant to be processed by the subconscious mind.
You look up whatever it is you want to manifest on Spotify, YouTube, iTunes etc. and search for a subliminal on the matter (there are subliminals for practically everything) and watch or listen to this for as long as you wish. Before you know it, what you want to manifest will be something actually manifested.
Pile 3:
The best way for you to manifest is by methods that involve writing; the lover letter method, 3x3 method, 3x6x9 method, etc. methods that involve writing to manifest your desires work best for you. This is because, to actually do these manifestation methods you need to be consciously aware of what it is you’re doing, you need to be aware and focused to write what it is you need to write, getting your mind busy and full of the thing you are manifesting.
Since there are tons of manifestation methods which mainly focused on writing you have a bunch of things to choose from. So simply look up different methods, compare them with each other, maybe try out a few, and set on the method(s) that work best for you.
#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick an image#pick a photo#spirituality#spiritual#divination#tarot#tarot reading#tarot readings#tarot deck#tarot cards#tarotoftheday#daily tarot#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#channeling#channeled message#channeled reading#channeled messages#pap#pac#manifesting#manifestation#law of manifestation#law of success#law of assumption#law of attraction#loa
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Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs
● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.
Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!
● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.
● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.
● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.
Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!
● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.
Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.
● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.
Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.
#Hades 2#Hades 2 spoilers#games#I know i'm missin Demeter and Artemis but those ladies do be hating me with showing up since i planned to make this post#Funny enough they both don't want to show in Hades 1 now lol#will add them when i finally manage to grab ss of said individuals but in short i like Demeter better in H2 while Artemis works as is#in both games#Hades Zeus#Hades Hypnos#Hades Aphrodite#Hades Chaos#Hades Poseidon#Hades Hermes#while all that is said it's just purely my preference and i think in both games they're looking to use such lame expression good#so i ain't hating on either#I keep dying to sirens so there is probably more i haven't seen so if i catch anythin besides those i will update as it goes#i downloaded Hades again just for that rip my disc aint got any space lmao#feel free to come yell about Hades into my dms i only doin it to void at the moment which is tragic yall
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᗷEᗩT TᕼEᗰ - ᒍOIᑎ 'Eᗰ
ᑭᗩᖇT 2
Part 1
Summary: After experiencing the thrill of being flustered for the first time - Satoru Gojo decides he needs to feel it again
Content: Fluff, Flirt! Gojo, Female! Reader (AFAB), Teen! Gojo x Teen! Reader (Reader is the same age as Gojo)
Word Count: 631
Satoru Gojo was on a mission.
Get the pretty new girl in his class to flirt back with him.
Ever since getting a taste of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of the flirting game, Satoru was hooked.
He desperately needed to feel the same emotions the new girl had somehow managed to stir within him.
And he was going to get what he wanted.
He always did.
And so- That's how his 'mission' started.
After that fateful day in your classroom, Satoru stepped up his game. He was a determined young fella. One that, when he set his mind to something, did everything in his power to obtain his goal.
Yet despite Satoru's persistence, you didn't seem to be doing what he was hoping for so desperately. That, however, didn't necessarily mean that his actions weren't getting to you. You hadn't even realized it when you started to actually enjoy his flirting attempts.
"Oh? What's this?" Satoru chirped, large frame shifting as he looked down at you. "You, giving me the time of day?" He grinned.
Earlier that day, Satoru had come to you with another cheezy pick-up line and you'd actually giggled at it. To say that the young sorcerer was ecstatic would be an understatement. He was on cloud nine.
"What's changed?" He cooed, tone dropping an octave as he continued. "Finally admit I'm hot as hell?~"
Looking back at him, you tried to hold your serious expression, you really did, but there was something about the way Satoru had you practically pinned against the wall made your expression falter.
You could feel the rosy blush slowly climbing up your neck, threatening to tint your checks with its vibrant rosy color.
"You wish." Your reply was short, for you feared that if you were to continue speaking Gojo might notice the falter in your voice.
You mentally scolded yourself for the way your heart thumped faster with each passing moment you spent so close to him.
Letting out an amused chuckle Satoru teased. "You're such a bad liar, sweetcheeks." Gently raising a hand to grab your chin, forcing you to look straight up at him he continued. "You know I've been trying to date you for how long..? -Think it's been around six months." He said referring to somewhere in the beginning of the school year. "And yet, you're still givin' me the cold shoulder."
God he was so close.
Way too close.
"What's a guy gotta do to get a date with you huh?" His words were so smooth, rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. You'd think they were some rehearsed lines for a romance movie.
As your eyes met with his, you could feel the way your body reacted to him. The way goosebumps traveled across your torso to your arms, not to mention the way heat rushed to your cheeks.
Fuck it.
"That's what you want?" You asked, shooing his hand away from your face. "Fine then. You can take me out on a date this weekend."
Did he hear that right? Did you really just agree to go out on a date with him? And that easily??
There it was again.
That familiar warm feeling in his chest.
Satoru looked back at you, his checks involuntarily turning a soft shade of pink.
If you only knew the things you did to him.
"Pick you up at seven, sweetcheeks." Quickly composing himself the young man took a step back from you. And with that he left, mostly because Satoru wasn't sure how much longer he could hold his excitement in him and not let it show.
Meanwhile you were left there staring at his retreating form, with an amused smile on your lips.
"Let's see what you've got, Satoru Gojo."
Author Note:
Wrote this while I was supposed to be sleeping so it might not be the best-
Regardless I hope you had fun reading! :)
#romance#fandom ships#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk#jjk fluff#fluff#satoru x reader#female reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru headcanons#satoru gojo#gojo headcanons#satoru headcanons#jjk headcanons#jjk one shot#satoru one shot#gojo one shot#satoru oneshot#gojo oneshot#satoru gojo oneshot#satoru gojo one shot#flustered gojo#shy gojo#flirt gojo#flirt satoru#shy satoru#flustered satoru#jujutsu gojo
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The Sweetest Con
Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.
She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.
Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Nesta Archeron had bread in the oven.
It had been Cassian’s idea that morning. Why not check on the sourdough starter they’d been fermenting and try it in some bread? It was obvious he merely wanted to spend time with her in the kitchen and Nesta was hard pressed to think of a reason they shouldn’t. It was moody that morning—a thunderstorm had rolled through and showed no signs of relenting.
They were stuck inside and she’d reasoned it was better to do something rather than what they were usually doing.
And still, with twenty minutes left on the oven timer, Nesta found herself on her knees anyway, Cassian’s massive cock in her mouth. It started with a kiss that became two, became four, became Nesta up on the table while Cassian pressed himself between her legs. And then everything became frantic and desperate. She’d just managed to get his pants around his ankles first, but if she’d waited another thirty seconds, she’d be spread across the table.
Not for the first time, either.
She told herself just liked to watch him (a lie). Cassian was terrifying, a force to be reckoned with. He was an immovable object right up until Nesta was sliding her hands between his legs—and then he was as malleable as clay in her hands. Did he genuinely like her, she wondered? Or was she merely a distraction?
There was only one way to find out. Nesta had been plotting for the same amount of time she’d been touching him to get her hands on his phone. Sitting next to him on the sofa the night before had revealed his passcode—0000—and now all she needed was to so thoroughly exhaust him, he wouldn’t notice her snooping through his messages.
She just wanted to know, once and for all. What was his plan for her? Had Rhysand instructed Cassian to kill her? And what of her sisters? Nesta told herself once she knew, she could better plan…but that didn’t account for her actions right then. Nor was it entirely true to act like this was merely all part of some brilliant scheme. Not when Cassian threw his head back, hand holding her jaw while Nesta struggled to take the rest of him into her throat.
“Fuck, Nes—just like that,” he panted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Nesta could feel the bulging vein just under the head of his cock, a tell-tale sign that he was about to come. She braced herself, eyes fluttering shut, just as Cassian grunted with pleasure and poured himself into her mouth.
The timer went off at the exact same time, thwarting Cassian’s obvious plans to reciprocate his pleasure. That was both disappointing and for the best, she decided. The night before, Nesta had passed out with her cheek stuck to his chest and woke to bright sunlight and the smell of burning coffee.
Not this time. This time, Nesta intended to wear Cassian out and stuff him full of food and let the Georgia heat do the rest. While she made her way to the oven, Cassian hastily pulled up his shorts.
“Is it wrong that I want to know every man you’ve ever practiced on?”
Nesta bent over the steaming oven to examine her sourdough. “What are you going to do, shoot them?”
“Yeah,” Cassian replied, elbowing her out of the way. His hands were clad in bright pink oven mitts and his dark hair was a tangled mess around his otherwise handsome face. It was the exact kind of logic a mobster would employ—she belongs to me, so I’ll pretend no one else has touched her.
Like a toddler hoarding toys at the playground, she thought wryly. She’d grown up in this life and had always rebelled at the idea that men owned their wives. And yet…yet, Cassian’s possessive nature wasn’t awful, either. Maybe because she knew the entire affair was time limited. Either he’d try to kill her or he’d be discovered by the actual feds and wind up in a prison cell.
So what did it hurt to enjoy herself for now?
“Looks good. Want me to grab butter, or—”
“We should let it cool down,” Nesta said, eyeing his naked, tattooed chest. “Want to do some yoga with me before we eat?”
The look on his face screamed no even as Cassian smiled easily and said, “Sure thing, baby.”
What followed was torture for them both. It was already miserably humid and insufferably hot. Nesta wanted to claw herself out of the clingy fabric she wore and hoped none of it showed on her face. She was one with the world, serene and unbothered. The sun could not hurt her so long as she slathered a thick layer of sunscreen all over her body. She’d bullied Cassian into putting some on, too—a careful ruse to run her hands up and down the toned muscles of his body though he needed it, too.
They practically crawled back into the cold air, with Nesta flinging open the freezer to stick her head inside while Cassian drank straight from the kitchen faucet.
“You’re a masochist,” Cassian accused, eyes squeezed shut as replaced his mouth with his entire face beneath the stream of cold water.
“I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Nesta said, taking some frozen, bagged broccoli out to place against her bare stomach. Cassian watched with open fascination, though he didn’t move to touch her.
“No more outdoor workouts. Lets go to a gym like civilized people,” he breathed, rising to his full height.
“The gym is unairconditioned—”
“Nesta, I can’t live this way,” he half pleaded, half joked. “I’ll put weights in the basement and run at two am.”
Nesta bit her bottom lip, thinking of the life Cassian was proposing. It was so easy to picture—and dangerous, too.
“I’m gonna shower, and then we’re going to eat some of this bread,” Cassian promised, pressing a quick kiss against her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“You got it,” she lied, eyes snagging on his phone. It was exactly where he’d left it, tossed casually to the kitchen table along with all the mail she didn’t want to look at. Nesta waited unmoving, listening as the bathroom door clicked shut. A moment later the sound of water hitting the porcelain tub filled the silence. Nesta counted to ten before lunging, typing in the passcode.
There, pinned at the very top of his messages, was a group chat with no other descriptor than a bat emoji. She wondered the significance as she scanned the names.
Rhysand: I don’t care what you need to do—drag E back and lock her in a closet if you have to.
Azriel: Easy for you to say while you’re playing house. She broke my fucking nose with that stupid bat—and she’s with a goddamn agent.
Cassian: How hard could it possibly be to keep track of one oblivious woman?
Azriel: Eat shit.
Rhysand: Are you tracking her? What does the agent know?
Azriel: He’s got family up in Appleton. Headed that way—as far as I know, they don’t know who I was.
Rhysand: Take the agent out, no questions asked. Secure E through whatever measures necessary—do not kill her.
Azriel: Wasn’t planning on it, but got it.
Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest. E—that had to be Elain. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about Elain but now…fuck. A quick search of her phone told her Appleton was in Wisconsin. If Elain was headed that way, Nesta needed to find her and warn her.
With shaking fingers, Nesta sent a text.
Cassian: Want help with a trace? Send me her number.
Please, please, please let them buy it, she prayed silently. Nesta’s heart was the loudest sound in the house, beating so violently she could barely hear the sound of Cassian’s shower over it. Her hands shook, holding his phone as she waited. The water cut off and Nesta was certain she’d been caught—Cassian would get the text later, realize what she’d done, and the entire thing would be blown.
Azriel: Sure. 555-201-9855. See if you can figure out where Vanserra is taking her. I’ll continue following behind.
Cassian: Meet me in Chicago? I can help lure her home with Nesta.
Azriel: Will she cooperate?
Cassian: Got her eating out of the palm of my hand.
Azriel: See you soon.
Nesta scribbled the number down on the back of an unopened bill before deleting the messages she’d sent. Nesta scrambled for her own phone, punching in the number to the sister she hadn’t spoken to in years. That ought to buy Elain some time, she reasoned, heart still pounding. Just enough for Nesta to get to her before anyone else did, anyway.
Nesta: Elain? This is Nesta. Rhysand is after you—they’re tracking you. Hide and tell no one where you are until I can get closer. I’m on my way—we have to find Feyre.
There. With that sent, and a clock ticking loudly in her head, Nesta all but ran to her bedroom and the gun she had hidden in her bedside table. Nesta had it in her hands, a small bag thrown together years ago slung over her shoulder, when she and Cassian met in the hall. His eyes dipped to the gun in her hand before he offered her a lopsided smile.
“Everything okay, Nes?” he asked, running a hand down his naked chest. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist was almost too small for him, accentuating the vee of his abdomen and the appendage hanging just between.
“I know what you are,” she whispered, hating the waver in her voice. Cassian’s smile only widened. “I’ll shoot.”
“Put the gun down, baby,” Cassian murmured, his voice honeyed and sweet. “Let's talk about this.”
“I’ll kill you,” she warned, well aware that her words were a lie. She couldn’t—even knowing who he was and what he was capable of, Nesta knew she couldn’t kill him.
Cassian advanced, unconcerned with the gun in her hand. She supposed he was used to seeing them, used to having them pointed directly at him. He was The Lord of Bloodshed, after all. That didn’t stop Nesta, who’d been going to the gun range long before feds ever dumped her in this swampy nowhere town.
Kill him and be done with it.
“Then why were you on your knees this morning, Nes?” Cassian whispered, those hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “You had my cock in your mouth. I didn’t even have to ask.”
“What happens in the bedroom and what happens out here are two separate things, Cass,” was all Nesta could think to say in response. She really was sorry, in that regard. She knew he didn’t see it that way.
Cassian shook his head, the loose ends of his wavy, dark hair brushing those muscular shoulders. “I’ll find you.”
“You’ll be dead,” she replied, willing the words to be true.
“You can’t kill me and we both know it,” Cassian told her. She hated that he was right, just like she knew that if she didn’t, he would hunt her down. This was personal, now—beyond the lies she’d told on her sister's behalf.
It didn’t matter. Rhysand had found them and Nesta needed to get to Elain before something horrible happened. Then they’d find Feyre and pray Rhysand hadn’t gotten to her first.
“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered before she pulled the trigger. Cassian howled, crumpling to the ground. He wasn’t dead—just wounded. She’d shot him in the leg.
Nesta turned, knowing she only had minutes to put distance between them before Cassian rallied, caught her, and did god knows what to her. He looked enraged as she made her way toward the front door.
“This isn’t over between us, Nesta! I’ll have you back by the end of the week!”
She grabbed the keys to his jeep and made her way outside, fingers shaking. Nesta tossed the gun to the passenger seat before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had the car out of the gravel drive before she pulled out her phone, texting people she knew better than to drag into this mess.
Gwyn and Emerie were waiting for her when she pulled up to Emerie’s place.
“Start from the beginning,” Emerie ordered the moment Nesta swung from the blue vehicle while Gwyn held a shotgun in both hands, eyes pinned on Nesta. It was an odd moment, telling her friends—who were like sisters in a different sort of way—everything that had transpired half a decade before.
Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t turn on her, though. Nesta didn’t know how she knew that, only that it was true. As Nesta drove, she told them everything they didn’t already know—starting from the beginning with the murder of their father. Nesta told them how she’d lied to the police for her sister, how it had been her idea to kill two birds with one stone and frame Rhysand. She hadn’t expected to be put in witness protection or she might have decided to take all the money their father had and flee the country instead.
One decision, made by a young, impulsive woman, had cost the three of them so much. Nesta couldn’t bring herself to regret anything that happened, a fact she told her friends while clenching her jaw. Let them see her, she supposed. Calculated and cold when necessary, and willing to make the hard decisions no one else would. Better they knew upfront than to find out later and decide they wanted nothing to do with her.
“So there’s a mobster after your sisters?” Gwyn confirmed, the shotgun now resting in her lap.
“Rhysand will kill Feyre if he finds her,” Nesta lamented, squeezing the steering wheel so violently her knuckles were bloodless. “I knew when Cassian came, but…I figured they hadn’t found her if he was still with me.”
“It sounds like they only have you and Elain,” Emerie reminded the pair, reasonably, sitting in the middle back seat so she could position herself between Nesta and Gwyn. “If we can get to Elain first, we could go to the police and tell them what we know.”
“Did you take his phone?” Gwyn asked.
Nesta sighed. “I didn’t.”
“That’s okay,” Gwyn reassured her, teal eyes hard with determination. “We’ll figure it out while we drive.”
“I’ve never been to Wisconsin,” Emerie added cheerfully.
And that was that, Nesta supposed.
CASSIAN:
“What the fuck do you mean, Nesta Archeron shot you?”
Gritting his teeth, Cassian held a lighter over the wound in his thigh, having already poured alcohol in an attempt to sterilize it. He didn’t have time for a hospital nor the inclination to spend a night hooked up to machines while nurses fussed over him.
“Don’t know how to make it anymore clear, boss,” Cassian snapped, his pain making him mean. “She fucking shot me, she knows who I am, and she’s on the run.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you and Azriel?”
“Enough to fill a textbook probably,” Cassian mumbled, wincing as he rose to his feet. When he got her back he was going to teach her how to aim better. If she’d been going for his heart, she’d failed abysmally. Not that he wanted her to kill him, of course. Cassian wanted Nesta back in his bed even if he had to tie her up to get her there.
“When Az and I are back together, we’ll have fewer problems.”
“You’ve got forty eight hours before to lock this whole thing down,” Rhysand warned. Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Practically, if Nesta and Elain slipped their leashes, they’d go straight to the cops and it would be hard to deny his involvement this time. At least where their father was concerned, Rhysand was actually innocent—one of the Archerons had killed their father. Cassian’s money was on Elain given her use of the bat against Azriel, though in truth it could have been any one of them. Nesta had a penchant for violence that rivaled her bastard father.
But more realistically, Cassian simply wanted her, reason be damned. If she’d just come to him, he could have reassured her that no one wanted to hurt Elain. Hell, for all Cassian knew, Azriel was in love with her, too. It seemed to be their current curse, after all.
He’d been down fifteen minutes—long enough to give her a moderate head start but not so long Cassian couldn’t easily catch up with her. She’d need to make stops…and she’d taken his jeep. Cassian could track its progress as he slid into Nesta’s smaller coup, leg screaming in pain. At least she hadn’t shot his driving leg, he reasoned before swallowing an ungodly amount of ibuprofen. It would have to do.
The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for being under the influence.
What Cassian really needed was sleep, preferably with Nesta curled up beside him. As he drove, his mind wandered to the sight of her flushed cheeks and shaking hands as she held that gun between them. Was it deranged, he thought, to admit he’d been turned out?
Would she use it in the bedroom, he wondered?
God, he hoped she would. Cassian intended to ask her when he had her back. With the location of his jeep tracking on his phone, Cassian set his course and tried to keep his mind off his leg. Azriel was after Elain, but had promised to help Cassian if they caught up with each other, and it was clear Nesta was headed toward them both. It had been easy enough to guess what she’d sent Azriel and Azriel, frustrated with the situation, hadn’t bothered to ask himself why Cassian would offer to help track Elain’s technology.
As if he knew jack shit about that sort of thing.
There was more than enough time to ruminate on his failures. While Rhys waxed poetic about moving Feyre without her figuring out the truth, Cassian focused on catching up with Nesta. He caught her just outside Bowling Green, Kentucky. She’d brought her friends with her—Gwyn, with her vibrant hair and a shotgun tossed casually in the passenger seat and Emerie, her dark hair pulled off her face in a messy ponytail and flip flops on her feet. They could have been on a road trip.
They weren’t.
Cassian could have dragged Nesta back and killed her friends if he’d wanted to. Watching her outside a truckstop, he weighed the pros and cons of the killings before ultimately deciding against it. Nesta would never forgive him and Cassian didn’t like killing people without a reason. Gwyn and Emerie were innocent—it didn’t sit right with him to take their lives.
Besides—Cassian wanted to see what was going to happen next, Rhysand be damned. Everything was a mess already—if the FBI agent hadn’t already alerted his superiors, well, he would before Cassian crossed into another state. Rhys might come up with some lie that explained what they were doing, but Cassian doubted anyone would believe them.
Might as well enjoy himself.
And trailing Nesta was immensely enjoyable. He liked the way her mind worked. She was logical, picking the most expedient routes and when she stopped, it was always somewhere populated. Somewhere people could hear her scream. Cassian might have liked that, but practically, didn’t want to sit in a holding cell for twenty four hours waiting on a judge.
She’d have to stop eventually, and stop she did a day and a half later in Chicago.
Cassian knew Nesta and her friends were exhausted. They’d traded driving, but he very much doubted any of them were getting quality sleep. Neither was Cassian, truthfully, but he reasoned that he was better at keeping himself up, his instincts sharper.
Azriel was waiting for him when he arrived, his face a mask of sharp, cold fury. “Give up?”
“I’m not getting fucking arrested,” Azriel snapped, hands jammed in his well-fitted jean pockets. “What are you doing?”
“Watching,” Cassian replied, nodding his head across the busy intersection where Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were standing. They hadn’t noticed him, laboring under the belief they’d lost him.
“What happened to your leg?”
Cassian grimaced. “She shot me.”
Azriel’s brow furrowed as he ran a scarred hand through dark, mussed hair. “And she’s alive?”
“I’m bringing her home,” Cassian said, throwing a wink at his exasperated friend. “What’s Elain’s apartment like?”
“A death trap,” Azriel replied without emotion. “They can get in, but they can’t get out.”
“Where’s Morrigan?”
“Ahead of you,” Azriel muttered, whipping his phone out to make a call. It would be easier if they had a third person helping them, and unlike Azriel and Cassian, Mor was cold-blooded in a way that made even Rhys hesitate at times. Cassian watched from his spot behind a street cart selling tourist items as Nesta and her friends jogged toward the towering skyscraper and vanished inside.
Good girl.
Getting her out without causing a scene would be another thing entirely. It was a big city, he reasoned. He’d have Mor park right out front, flashers on, and just dump Nesta in the back before anyone could say anything. He doubted anyone would be racing to rescue her, besides.
Mor arrived in tight jeans and a tank top, blonde hair pulled in a thick, deceptively messy ponytail. Cassian knew her well enough to know she labored over it, every wispy strand placed by Mor’s own immaculate hands.
“What needs cleaned up?” she asked, flashing them both a perfect, white smile.
“Upstairs,” Azriel muttered, beckoning for Mor to follow after him. She was Rhys’s second in command and even Cassian didn’t know everything she did for her cousin. Only that she was called in when shit went south. Things were so far south that they might have been at the equator. Could Mor drag the missing Archeron back, too?
That was Azriel’s problem. All Cassian needed to worry about was Nesta. Trailing behind Mor, the three made their way into the immaculate lobby and Cassian was struck at the incredibly elegant life Elain Archeron appeared to have been living. While Nesta was holed up in rural Georgia, Elain got to live in screaming civilization. It irked Cassian, even as he recognized the solitude had served him well.
Azriel pushed the number thirteen, staring anywhere but at Mor, who was too busy examining her nails to notice how awkward things were. Cassian said nothing because it was none of his business. Something must have happened, though—Azriel wasn’t standing too close, wasn’t shooting furtive glances. And Mor wasn’t using Cassian as a shield like she often did.
Had they talked, then?
Cassian didn’t ask. Instead, he followed Azriel down a blue carpeted hall that smelled like someone's two day old cooking. Azriel pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door to find a shotgun waiting for him.
“Not another step, pretty boy,” Gwyn said in that southern drawl of hers.
Behind Az, Mor rolled her eyes.
“You think I’m pretty?” Azriel asked casually, unconcerned with the danger he was in.
“That ain’t a compliment,” Gwyn snapped.
“Sounded like one to me,” Azriel replied smoothly. Cassian and Mor exchanged a glance. Since when did Az engage in witty repartee? “What else do you like?”
“Shut up,” Gwyn ordered, but it was too late. Azriel had the upper hand and they all knew it. With the speed of a man used to being threatened, he wrenched the barrel of the shotgun out of her hands and yanked, pulling both the weapon and the woman into his waiting arms. Gwyn yelped, arms pinned to her side as Az tossed the gun behind him for Mor to pick up.
“Quickly,” she ordered as Cassian swept in. Az hadn’t lied—Elain’s apartment was turned upside down, furniture shoved against the walls for his little traps and cameras. Nesta and Emerie had clearly walked right into one, legs tied to the floor in some contraption that shouldn’t have fascinated him as much as it did.
“Hey, Nes,” he said with a grin.
“Fuck you,” she replied, sweet as ever.
“Are you gonna come with me nicely? Or am I going to have to carry you out?”
“Don’t you touch me,” she warned, answering Cassian’s question all the same. Just beside him, Mor was pulling rags from her bag like they were mints, handing one to Cassian before making her way toward the flailing, fighting Gwyn. Cassian let Nesta watch Mor smush the rag over Gwyn’s face so she knew what was waiting for her.
What he’d do if she didn’t agree to come like his good little girl.
Gwyn went limp against Azriel, who merely scooped her up like she was nothing.
“What do you want to do with the two of them?” Mor asked Cassian, eyes finding a silent, but furious looking Emerie. God—this plan was so off the rails it was almost embarrassing. There was only one thing they could do.
“Take them home,” he said.
“Their home? Or our home?” Mor clarified.
“Ours, for now.”
Cassian turned back to Nesta.
“Cass,” she tried, the pretty little liar. “You don’t understand. My sisters, they—”
“It’s too late for them,” he said. He wasn’t even a lie. “Rhys has Feyre and Elain is on her way back home. The only hold up is you.”
She shook her head. Nesta was smart not to believe him, even if it irked him deeply. Cassian made his way toward her, trapped by Azriel and unable to do anything but watch.
And slap. The moment he crouched in front of her, Nesta slapped him hard. Her nails raked down his cheek, wounding him just enough to rankle him. He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”
“Let me go.”
“I can’t,” he replied with some regret.
“Make a decision, Cass,” Mor said as she leaned beside Emerie. Emerie didn’t hit, grimacing as Mor brought that rag to her face. “I don’t have all day.”
“You’re a cunt,” Emerie hissed at Mor, who only grinned back.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Mor held the rag to Emerie’s face as Nesta watched, face pale and eyes wide. “Cass,” she whispered.
“Come with me,” he urged, knowing she wouldn’t. Nesta couldn’t. She’d fight him until she decided this was her decision, and then she’d likely fight him a little more. The rest of his life would be a fight—and Cassian wanted it.
“It’s time to go home, baby,” Cassian murmured, pressing a kiss to Nesta’s temple as she tried to wrench away. Putting the rag over her face felt like a betrayal and Cassian had to remind himself that she’d shot him not two days earlier. Mouth to the shell of her ear, he murmured, “We’re even now.”
Hardly, though. Cassian hadn’t held it against her to begin with. Nesta never took her eyes off him, holding her breath until she couldn’t, only to suck in a gasp of poisoned air. It went faster after that, leaving her limp in his arms as Mor undid the traps.
“You’re a bastard for these,” Mor said, looking down at Emerie with an expression Cassian couldn’t quite place.
Azriel onlys shrugged, still holding Gwyn in his arms. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Come on,” Cassian interrupted, not interested in another argument between the pair. “I’m fucking tired and I want to go home.”
Cassian’s leg was killing him, he was bone weary, and a little afraid of what was coming for him. Either the US government or Rhys—and Cassian didn’t know which scared him more. For now, Cassian was resolved to get her home and hope that Feyre wasn’t far behind.
Elain was already lost. There was no getting her back. The best they could hope for was utter silence as Rhys hunted them down, killed the agent hiding her, and brought her into the fold, too.
But it would take time and right now they were nearly out of it.
And it was time to go home.
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This is the new argument from e/riels:
"Yes Lucien was feisty and powerful and sassy and funny in the first book, and that personality slowly started to fade in book 2. This happened because Lucien was originally supposed to be Nesta's mate, but then SJM changed her mind. Lucien slowly became a shadow of his old self to the point where he barely exists in the story. Yes it can partially be attributed to trauma, but he had lived through immense trauma already at the start of book one and still managed to be his foxy, witty self. This is because he will not be a lead in Elain's book or any book. SJM is purposefully downgrading him because he is not meant to fill the role of MMC. She realized that Azriel and Elain have much more chemistry, hence the famous statement about how sometimes she puts two characters together and they just won't work. She left readers a hint about the fact that she was doing this: 'Why make them mates? What if that is what she needs?' using Feyre's words."
What are your thoughts on this?
My thoughts? There will be many 😂
Feyre also said Az would probably never stop loving Mor.
Feyre also told Elain that Lucien cared for her and that he was a good male.
Feyre also once considered Ianthe a friend.
I don't think Feyre's word is one they want to get hung up on.
Lucien did experience trauma in book 1 however the majority of that trauma, the things that impacted him on a bone deep level, happened to him centuries prior. Lucien's main source of trauma in book 1 (to me) was not when Amarantha permanently scarred him but when he lost Jesminda and was chased out of Autumn after having spent years being tormented by Beron and his brothers. But he found some semblance of peace with Tamlin. Was he truly content? Not really but he had a friend, a place in Tamlin's court, the people of Spring looked to him to set the example (friends and purpose, sounds familiar, right?). Despite his past he had still had enough time to settle into his sassiness because his life was somewhat consistent.
However book 2 changed all that. Tamlin and his court began to suffer as a result of what happened during and after UTM. There was the added fear of what Rhys was possibly doing to Feyre and how that affected both he and Tamlin. The stability (illusion of?) he had grown accustomed too (even during Amarantha's reign), began to crumble and the threat of a war was pressing down on them all.
Should Lucien have remained sassy while worrying his friend and his other friends fiance was being tortured? Should he have been feisty knowing they were preparing to ally with the KoH in order to try and get her back? While his friend had taken to threatening him? While his friend was falling apart? While being sexually harassed by Ianthe than having to perform the Rite with her? It's funny how they claim Gwyn won't be ready to leave the library in her book or for sex with Az years after her SA but expect Lucien to be an absolute hoot while his was going on.
Should he then have been sassy knowing that Feyre was plotting the downfall of Tamlin in book 3? After finding out that his lost mate wasn't actually his mate and that his real mate had been taken by his enemy? Should he have been cracking jokes after his magic was stolen and he nearly died trying to fight his way to Elain's side to make sure she was alright? Should he have then been the life of the party while surrounded by multiple characters treating him like dirt in the NC?
Should he be witty and fun and snarky upon the realization that he had no place to go except the human lands after the war? When Tamlin gave him a black eye and cut lip?
SJM isn't putting Lucien through all of this so Az can lead a book with Elain. SJM is putting Lucien through all this so he becomes the ultimate underdog story. In an interview, someone specifically asked SJM if we were going to see the return of sassy Lucien and she said something along the lines of, "I hope so, he's going through a lot right now." The author knows exactly what she's doing with his character and it's not because he's being downgraded. Downgraded men don't get an upgrade to their father and Court they belong to. Downgraded men don't have the author confirming (after ACOMAF had already been written, the book she made Elain and Lucien mates) that Lucien has always been one of her favorite characters. Downgraded men don't school Cassian in his own book with a single word.
"Easy," Lucien said.
Cassian snarled.
"Easy," Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising DOMINANCE within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten -
If the author wanted us to believe that Elain and Lucien have no chemistry than she would not have had any reason to have Elain ignore him. Instead they would have shared many conversations on page and we would have seen that lack of chemistry playing out in real time. Instead she had Elain cut off communication with Lucien the second she no longer mourned for Graysen to the extent she once did. That's because a single Elain is an Elain that's going to fall in love with Lucien way too quickly, an Elain who shares very obvious chemistry with him and that can't happen before their book.
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have you been doomscrolling? feeling awful about it? do you feel out of control? does it seem your autonomy has been swallowed by the ever present beast that is the internet?
we live in the most overwhelmingly stimulating age of humanity ever seen, and it's only getting worse. our brains are sponges, soaking up whatever we smear them across, and it seems more and more difficult to find a clean surface to rest on. i'm no expert or professional, but ive been born and raised into the internet, and i'd like to hand out some wisdom regarding this.
the main issue: brain poison
since the brain absorbs whatever it's exposed to, media consumption is unsurprisingly going to effect it. the type of media, the amount of media, and the frequency of the media all play a factor.
it's not the internet itself that's bad here. it's the media on the internet, and the platforms designed to suck in our attention and keep it there until we're rotting inside our skulls.
we're never going to escape the internet. it's just a fact of life now, and a tool that can be used for wonderful things. so how do we learn to live with the internet and take advantage of its potential?
treat it like a dietary balance
staying aware of what goes in your brain is just as important as being aware of what you're eating. if you eat carelessly, don't listen to how your body feels after you eat certain things, and ignore any sickness that might result from rotten food, you're going to have a bad time and wreck your guts. the same goes for the brain.
you want to have a good mix of various types of media in the right amounts, or approximately so. if things are feeling bland, maybe diversify. if things are feeling stupid, try something more intellectual. if it's feeling too much, cut back on all of it
the following are three things you can do to maintain a sense of control and awareness over your media diet. this isnt a step by step and is in no particular order, theyre just ideas to carry forward in general any time it could be helpful.
1. digest
this is the process of thinking about and remembering what youve done throughout your time on the internet. it could apply to any period of time. so you might think, 'man, i've done nothing but watch tiktok all day.' or 'i've been scrolling twitter a lot more this past week.'
i feel like most people already do this to some extent, but it manifests as a fleeting sense of anxiety or shame that doesn't lead anywhere. analyze that feeling, and ask if it's really true or helpful.
ask if your media consumption is making you feel less focused, distracted, putting you into a brain fog, making you fall asleep when you don't want to, making you irritable and angry, drawing you into arguments, keeping you awake at night, or upsetting/disrupting you in any way.
digestion also means appreciating the good stuff and recognizing the good feelings you get too. so also ask if it's enriching you, helping you learn something new, giving you a new perspective, exposing you to something beautiful, passing the time, relaxing you, honing your focus, or generally lifting your mood.
2. cut
cut certain types of content from your life once you've decided they're not good for your media diet. block people. move on. tell youtube to stop reccomending that channel. block them. unfollow people. unfollow tags. block the tags. blacklist things. do it. forget the awful things that make your brain hurty. click the block button. uninstall the app. you know you want to
consider removing yourself entirely from websites that are designed to be attention predators. if you consistently feel like youre 'stuck' on a site and cant leave, it's probably best to just delete your account and get out of there. tiktok is NOTORIOUS for this.
i also tend to keep my following or subscribed count low. keeping the stream of content short forces me to find other things to do with my time. this goes hand in hand with things like turning off infinite scroll. it provides an 'end point' where the repetitive action of scrolling down stops bearing fruit, breaking the doomscrolling cycle. the internet is almost an infinite place, and its up to you to build walls around yourself so you arent lost in it forever.
its also important to get off the internet in general sometimes. i know this is obvious, but literally touch grass on occasion. doing anything with your physical body away from the screen will be more enriching than sitting there scrolling for hours. whether it's just a 5 minute walk around your house to stretch your legs or a 6 hour hike every weekend, part of cutting media will mean replacing it with real life. looking at some plants, doing a pushup, or working on a knitting project can be like rinsing your brain sponge under some cold, clean water.
3. curate
the flip side of cutting is curating. you'll want to be looking for media that makes you happy and feels productive or meaningful in some way. anything that not only doesnt make you feel like you wasted your time, but specifically makes you feel like you spent your time well, is a green flag.
keep in mind entertainment just for entertainment's sake is good for you too. you don't have to be watching university lectures and tutorials and stuff all day. finding high quality entertainment, such as personalities you enjoy, good production values, and inventive ideas can be really difficult. find the people who dont make you feel like a cocomelon baby and stick with them. from there you should be able to find similar content.
what's good for your soul is going to depend very much on you as an individual. this is also going to be an ongoing process as not only you but the internet both change and evolve. the important thing about this step is that you Make Decisions about what to consume. even bad decisions! it's all part of the process, and it's all about reclaiming your autonomy.
4. eat your junk food
this isn't a military drill or an exact science. i'm just a guy on tumblr with an intimate connection to his own brain and a LOT of time on the internet. that's my only credential. sometimes i want to turn that brain off and just mindlessly consume without putting any thought into what dirty dishwater is soaking into my sponge. sometimes adhd brain wants me to watch a shitty B movie in recap form so i dont have to commit to a full movie. sometimes i get stuck in the youtube shorts for like 3 hours.
that's fine. the most important part of any kind of self care is that a little bit is better than nothing. even just being aware that youre consuming something bad for you and knowing you arent ready to stop just yet is better than nothing.
thats it!!
now you should be prepared to take back some control over your media consumption. be gentle with yourself and take your time. eventually this stuff will become second nature, and you'll be effortlessly digesting, curating, and cutting media like it's just part of your personality. remember YOU have control over what the internet thinks you want to see. dont let it force feed you nasty slop anymore. let it be a reflection of your mind, not the other way around.
and good luck!
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How do you think Peeta could join the Careers at 74th Hunger Games?
What did he do? Duel with another career? Killing another tributes on the Cornucopia?
Do you think before The Rule Change (2 victors from the same district), Peeta already determined to help Katniss becoming the winner? Thoughts?
Thank you :)
@curiousnonny
*clears throat and smacks a binder on the podium*
I have thoughts @curiousnonnyblog. Even if this one has also been sitting in my inbox for freaking ever.
Then the boy from 4. I didn't expect that one, usually all the Careers make it through the first day.
- The Hunger Games, chapter 11
I just get a glimpse of Peeta, lit by a torch, heading back to the girl by the fire. His face is swollen with bruises. There's a bloody bandage on one arm, and from the sound of his gait, he's limping somewhat. I remember him shaking his head, telling me not to go into the fight for the supplies, when all along, all along he'd planned to throw himself into the thick of things. Just the opposite of what Haymitch had told him to do.
- The Hunger Games, chapter 12
And finally:
"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife.
Is he? That's news. What a lot of interesting things I'm learning about my friend Peeta today.
- The Hunger Games, chapter 12
Okay. Hear me out. when Katniss first sees Peeta after the mayhem of the blood bath is over, he's injured. He's clearly been in a fight. And the Careers provide further evidence for that by saying that he's "handy with that knife," which is information Katniss didn't have about him. She never saw him wield a knife during training because Haymitch told them not to show off their greatest strengths in training, and Peeta didn't even consider her wrestling experience as useful in terms of hand to hand combat until Katniss pointed it out.
So here's my theory. When Peeta asks Haymitch to train separate from Katniss, it's because he knows he's going to try to team up with the Careers, for a couple of reasons. 1) Peeta has zero hunting and wilderness survival skills. Teaming up with the Careers is his best chance, other than teaming up with Katniss herself, at not starving. But also 2) The Careers are the most obvious threat the Katniss's survival in the Games. So teaming up with them allows him to keep tabs on them, to "mislead them about [Katniss]," which she comments on him doing without giving details when they're watching the recap of the Games. It also gives him the chance to help her out or buy her time in certain situations, as with the tracker jacker tree. He gets them to stop actively threatening her, which buys her time to come up with a solution.
I'll come back to Peeta's teaming up with the Careers as a survival strategy for Katniss in a minute. But first... how did he join the Careers?
I think that was something set up in advance between Haymitch and the mentors of the Career Districts. However, while the Careers know he got a training score of 8, in book world, they have no idea why. They're going to want proof that he's somehow useful, beyond getting their hands on Katniss, who they'd see as their biggest competition along with Thresh. So how to prove he can hang with the Careers? One of them attacks Peeta during the blood bath.
And Peeta's already admitted that while he doesn't want to kill anyone, he would if it came down to it. So I think the boy from 4 drew the short straw, so to speak, and had to test the upstart from 12 wanting to be in their pack. And Peeta won that fight, explaining why he's injured, how he wound up in the Career pack, and also how they know that he's good with a knife.
Careers in the arena are only going to see two reasons to call someone "handy with that knife." I doubt Peeta killed an animal for food because honestly he's too beat up for me to believe that interpretation, and also it's too early in the Games for the Careers to need food. They have all the Cornucopia supplies still. So at that point being "handy with a knife" means they saw Peeta fight with it and win.
Why wouldn't Katniss tell us this? Because she wouldn't have deemed it important. It probably looked exactly like self defense, not going down without a fight on film. Maybe Peeta wasn't even expecting it, although I doubt Haymitch left him unprepared to face a challenge like that. The point is, Katniss would view him killing the boy from 4 as a moot point in terms of how she views him as a person, how she sees his character. She's far more concerned with how he reacts to accidentally poisoning Foxface because that wasn't self defense. She wasn't yet a threat to either Peeta or Katniss.
Which brings me to Katniss's comment about Peeta running into the bloodbath being the exact opposite of what Haymitch told him to do. Yeah, that is what he tells them both to do on the night of the interviews. But who's to say he didn't pull Peeta aside after that and give him a different set of advice? Whose to say that Haymitch hadn't already prepped Peeta during their private training sessions for getting caught in the bloodbath or jumped by the Careers right after?
As for your last question, I think Peeta decided to fight for one of 12's tributes to survive from the moment he asked Haymitch to train separately. Perhaps even before that. I've talked about it before HERE and also HERE but the gist is that Peeta wanted his death to mean something, and since he didn't think he could win the Games, he wanted whoever did win the Games to help the people he cared about back home in 12, which would be Katniss. And there is something to be said about how subversive that is, in and of itself. It's not new to the Games for the Tributes to show compassion for each other, as we see with Haymitch and Maysilee, and with several of the tributes in Ballads, but it is extremely rare for a tribute to willingly sacrifice themselves for another. I think Peeta was prepared to die for Katniss to win, in part because not only would her win benefit their district and everyone he cares about, but he's also aware from book 1 that her family needs her to survive while his will be just fine without him. He's trying to do the most good with his death, and I think that the rule change when they allow 2 victors is actually when Peeta allows himself to hope for his own survival too. Up to that point, I think he was preparing himself to die.
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Hi there. I wanted to pick your brain about something. A critique I often see of Taylor is that she's greedy, which is something I would agree with. My issue is that her being an a-hole is often conflated with her being a capitalist, that's where my objection comes in. I'm the daughter of a bank manager, I studied economics, I've been investing my savings since I was a child, and I make more money than most people my age. Here's something I learned about making money, after you buy a nice home and a nice car, and have money stashed away in case your investments blow up in your face, any money you make above your monthly expenses, is actually money you never see. They're just numbers on a paper, they have no perceivable value in your life due to the fact that they'll never be spent. What I'm trying to explain is that I believe what makes rich people a-holes isn't that they're good at making money, but rather, that they don't give away/set up funds and allow others to benefit from that money. Taylor selling 10 different versions of the same album and crazy people buying them? Good for her. But Taylor not paying for Ana Clara's funeral and the parents asking for donations? That's what makes her an a-hole.
So, here's my hot take: yeah, her being obscenely wealthy is part of the problem.
1. Nobody needs to be a BILLIONAIRE. No one. They're inherently unethical. Whether you actually have that much cash in the bank or not is irrelevant. Taylor swift has two private jets that she uses like bicycles just because she can. That's unethical. Not only is it killing the planet needlessly, but the money spent on those could be better used being donated to those in need. Her fifty bazillion dollar outfits for tours don't need to cost as much as they do, especially when half the time they look like they're only worth about $100. She over spends just to flex how rich she is, and that money could be paying for the dinner of a needy family or getting a Palestinian family to refuge from the genocide instead of buying Taylor Swift a new shiny thing to flaunt.
2) the way she markets her music is absolutely an asshole move. She creates (often faux) scarcity with five different "limited edition" version of an album, then acts like they're all THE most incredible thing ever. She's convinced her fans that she's some kind of impossibly intelligent god that can only create perfection, and luers them into buying 5-10 copies of the exact same damn CD for not reason. That's predatory. Put the one singular bonus song on each CD all on one with five bonus songs and call it the deluxe edition or whatever like EVERY OTHER musician does. To do nothing but add a single different song is nothing short of greedy. Same with randomly releasing a single of Fortnight SOLELY to try and beat out Espresso on the charts. Everyone already has the album, WHY do they need a single with no other added extras? To stroke Taylor's over inflated ego?
An example of an ethical rich person is Abigail Disney, daughter of Roy Disney (Walt's brother). She donates exorbitant amounts of money to various charities, has started some of her own, and actively fights for more equality between economic brackets. She'll always have more money than she needs, much like Taylor. The difference is Abigail actively seeks to even the playing field - Taylor wants to be the queen bee on top.
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