#@ that one anon: i don't know where you got that idea in ur head but if you could let me know where/how it came up please let me know

[belovedcloud]

Regret

pairing: leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ REQUEST: i absolutely love ur writing!!! just read ur latest fic with plagas leon! if i'm not bothering would you ever write a slightly angsty fic where you get into an argument with leon and where u exchange harsh words to eachother? and maybe leon slaps the reader in the heat of the moment? and it turns into makeup sex (hopefully it's not too much qwq)

✎ Notes: Thank you Anon for the request! Hope this is what you wanted :) I absolutely love the idea of a heavy argument turning into makeup sex, Leon is the perfect man for this I love him sm. This is again really short and rushed because I've got a lot of work to do.

➤ WC: 1.64K

➤ CW: Leon being mean, Angst/Smut (Comfort during sex and at the end) Leon slapping reader, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V (unprotected sex), creampie, dumbification of some sort.

MINORS DNI!

It was never meant to be like this, the argument with you and Leon went too far. You knew Leon's job was out of the ordinary but was it wrong of you to want to spend more time with him? Caring for a person like him is so painful, the constant worry of him being safe and the monsters he faced hurt you like no other. However, Leon didn't see what he was doing wrong, why you were so angry about him not spending time with you. Mission on mission, things get worse - he never meant it to affect you though. His actions had consequences.

It began with Leon coming home, the putrid smells of death and blood splattered all over his body. A deep sigh escaped his throat as he threw his duffel bag somewhere alongside the hallway, walking into the kitchen seeing you on your phone. He didn't say anything, no hello or goodnight came from his lips. Dropping his keys on the counter to head upstairs for a long awaited shower. Washing off the feeling of murder that hung low on his shoulders, he comes downstairs to see you eying him weirdly.

"What?" Leon grumbled out as he took a water from the fridge, gulping it down. "It's nothing..." A hushed voice came out of your mouth. Was it that much to ask for a kiss or even a hug when he came back home? Weeks of distance made you crave for something. Someone. That someone was Leon, but looking into those dull blue eyes made you believe he didn't reciprocate those feelings you had for him. "Can you cut the bullshit for once?" A stern tone laced in Leon's voice as he threw the bottle in the bin, slamming his hand on the counter. "What the fuck is your problem?!" You couldn't help but snap back, was he being serious right now? Thoughts flooded your brain and not once could you remember when he last kissed you, let alone hug you.

"My problem? You're the one looking at me like I'm some freak! I just got back and- Fuck! It's always this with you!" Leon shouted at you, he never was like this. This wasn't the Leon you loved, it was some new profound one that you didn't recognize. Without thinking, you stood up and approached him. "Maybe show me some fucking attention for once! Instead of moping around." A scream of words thrusted out of your throat as you felt your eyes water, your body full of anger. Leon took a step back, scoffing at your rebuttal and sighed. "Can you just leave me alone? I don't want to deal with you right now." The emphasis on you tore your heart a little, you didn't do anything wrong. Not that you knew of - for him to be angry at you was ridiculous. All you wanted was to be loved, to be appreciated for what you put into the relationship.

"Leave you alone? I've been leaving you alone for weeks! It feels like a one sided relationship at this point, what's the point of being with me if-" A harsh burn spread across your face, the words that hung in your throat went dry. Automatically, your hand felt your cheek. Leon had slapped you. Why? You felt tears fall down your face as it stung the aching pain where Leon's hand smacked. He didn't know why he did it. Ashamed of his actions he took a step towards you, just for you to not return the favour. Your own legs stepping back. "I- I'm so sorry, I don't know-" His voice trailed off as he saw you sprint upstairs, the slam of your bedroom door ringing in his ears. "Wait! Y/N! Please!" His footsteps echoed the house as he ran up the stairs, arriving in front of the closed door. You had your back to it, muffled sobs escaping your lips as you felt your neck get wet. He slapped you.

"Sweetheart.. I'm sorry, please.." He started to knock on the door, until he heard your sobs penetrate through. Fuck. He messed up. Was this going to be the end? Leon couldn't afford to lose you, he loved you too much. His pride and joy, the person he loved the most. The sole reason why he was still here today - yet he hurt you in indescribable ways. Leon felt like a fool as he felt his heartbeat race, why did he have to hurt you? What the fuck was wrong with him? The thoughts dissipated into the air he heard the locked door click. Shaky hands twisted the knob of the door as he slowly creaked it open. Seeing your body slightly shake on the bed, uncontrollable tears dripping down from your chin to your shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby.." Leon approached you carefully, trying to not alert you in any harmful way. His gaze wondering all over your body until his eyes reached yours. Pure fear corrupted your eyes as you looked back at him, however the movement of his hands slowly calmed you down. Stroking your back, he whispered sweet nothings into your ears, apologizing for his actions.

"Please, let me make it up to you.." His fingers tugged onto the band of your shorts, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks as you stared at him. "I.." Your mellow voice trailed off when you felt Leon kiss up your thighs, a slight gasp elicited out of your throat. "Wanna show you how much I love you. It's been too long." His hands made quick work of your shorts and panties, your slick covering your clit. "So fucking gorgeous.." He mumbled as he gently nipped at your inner thighs, leaving love bites on them. Quiet whimpers fell out from your lips, your hands tugging at the soft cotton sheets beneath you. Leon looked up at you, you were so pretty for him. His pretty girl. A delighted groan rumbled out of his throat as his tongue slid up your pussy, God you were so sweet. His tongue poked into your entrance, licking up the mess you were making for him as the pads of his fingers rubbed your puffy clit. "O-Oh.. Leon." Moans echoed throughout the room as your eyes rolled back. You tasted so good. A firm grip on your thigh made you shiver as his tongue lapped you up, a rhythm developed as he took his finger off your clit, his nose bumping into it instead. "Mm.. Delicious." A throaty moan left his lips, pistoning his fingers into you. It wasn't long till you felt a burning feeling in your stomach, your thighs starting to shake. "Leon, baby I-" You hiccupped your whines as the orgasm rushed all over you. "That's my girl, fuck.. cum all over my fingers baby." He adored your blissful state as you shook in his touch. Choked sobs and moans slowly died down as he pulled his fingers out of you, his tongue licking them clean.

"Please Leon.." The pleas left your throat too quick, your hands tugging on his sweatpants as you craved him. His love was like no other, giving you that warm feeling in your stomach. "Hm? What d'you want baby?" A soft smile spread across his face as he took your hand into his. "You know what I want.." A mellow whine came from you, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he started to take off his sweatpants. His cock throbbing in his boxers as he looked up at your heavenly body in front of him. "You're beautiful.. y'know that?" His hand traced up your body, gripping gently onto your side as his other hand aligned his hard cock to your entrance. The flushed dark pink tip slowly rubbing up and down your clit. He glanced back up at you, seeing your head give him a nod.

The slow push inside of you made his head spin, a raspy growl erupted from his throat as he thrusted himself fully in you. "So, fuck, tight f'me.." His hips slowly grinded into you, your eyes averted down to the lewd sight infront of you. Watching his cock thrusting in and out of you until the tip hit the right spot, your eyes rolling back. "O-Oh.." You mumbled out, feeling yourself go dumb on his dick. It had been so long that the stretch and pace felt new, it felt like love. Your hands scratching at his back, leaving red long marks. A groan of pain mixed with pleasure made his head fall back in ecstasy. "So good.." He whimpered out, subconsciously his fingers landed back on your clit.

The callousness roughly rubbing your clit, he felt you tighten around him. The wet sloppy thrusts quickened, Leon wanting to make you cum. "Please cum, please I want you to cum on my dick sweetheart." He moaned out, kissing you so passionately as he felt your climax make you go breathless. You gasped for air as he continued to snap his hips into you. "Fuck.. I love you, I love you, I love you.." He chanted as he felt his own high come over him, his cum squirting out of his tip. Filling you up so full, so warm. He panted looking at you, a soft smile spreading across your face. Love was exchanged between the both of you, the skin to skin touch melted you both into one.

"Thank you." A whisper hushed out of your mouth, Leon stared at you confused. "Hm? Don't thank me sweetheart.. here." He plucked a few tissues from the box, wiping you down. Sweet kisses gently tickled your skin as giggles elicited out from your lips. "I love you." Your mellow voice travelled through his ears, a wide grin spread across his face.

"I love you too."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

[tinydefector]

TURN BACK ANON MY ANONYMITY NOAAAAUUU /J

ive been thinking about this idea the whole day but imagine in human effects, a group of humans shamelessly talk about who they would bang bang in ll and them being superised that; minibots (cough swerve) are oddly popular because in the humans words 'thats probably the only size they can bear without being impaled to death', rung and ratchet is somehow in there because some have a preference for the old ladies (dilfs) etc etc

theyre talking thinking no ones listening since its a bar full of drunken bots but the fact is half of the bar is eavesdropping, esp after the events of the first human effect. some waiting for their names to be mentioned, some absolutely puzzled by their preferences, some fistpumping thinking they might have a chance (brainstorm HAHA)

u dont have to write anything if u dont want to!! love ur writting!! running away now!! have a good day slash night!!

Effects of Drinking

Word count:2.1k

Warnings: talking about sex, hookups, speculated workplace relationships.

Prev

Next

Human effects masterlist

I absolutely loved this idea and got to work on it the moment I read this. So enjoy another part of human effects.

___________________

The sound of Swerve is always loud with the mingling of bots and humans alike, the sound of laughter, crying and venting was a causal occurrence for the many drunk patrons that frequent the bar. But tonight It was bustling even more than it normally is. Swerve shakes his head in amusement as me brings a plate of drinks over for the human crew. Swerve whistled cheerily as he whisked through the busy bar, expertly weaving between crowds with overloaded trays of alcohol and snacks balanced expertly on his servos. The atmosphere pulsed with raucous revelry.

Setting down his latest platter of Human-sized drinks, he flashed the smaller patrons a dazzling smile. "Hope y'all're enjoyin' the party! What's the special occasion tonight, if I may ask?" His optics twinkled mischief. Leaning casually on the bar, taking care not to endanger any of the humans. Swerve propped his chin in his hands attentively. "Seems like a lively bunch are in to spill all the juicy deets. Come on, I'm all audials. what's worth celebrating tonight. 

Millian shoots Swerve a smile. "Oh it's gonna get messy tonight Swerve Taylor just had a break up" states which earns raised glasses from the other human crew mates. "To the shit show of a long distance relationship" Nadia calls out and she downs her first shot. "Fucking hell your an alcoholic" the Liason states to the rest of their the crew as they shoot Swerve another smile. "Thank you for the drinks, Swerve I'll try to keep this unruly lot under control, and hopefully Taylor and Nadia dont get to shit faced" they state to him. 

Swerve's optics gleamed with intrigue as the Crew shouted their toasts and explanations. "Oooooh, messy breakups and long-distance woes, huh? Been there, done that," he chuckled knowingly, a cheeky gleam in his optics. "Well hey, if Taylor needs a shoulder vents or an audial, you know where to find me," he offered with a friendly wink. "And as for the rest of you rowdy lot..." His vocalizer took on a playfully stern tone. "I expect nothin' but the finest conduct from representatives of our new friends on Cybertron. No pukin' in the vents, no startin' bar fights - at least, no winnin' any," he jested. 

Laughter fills the area as the two waves Swerve off back towards the bar. Nadia whistles softly as she watches Swerve walk off. "Careful now, don't let Taylor catch you drooling, she'll make you drink tequila with her" Millian teased softly, jostling Nadia's elbow with a grin. Her friend simply chuckled and took another sip of her drink, eyes still following Swerve's retreat fondly.

"Can you blame me? Those Mech's are something else," Nadia sighed, resting her chin on one hand dreamily. "Tall, strong... kind soul. If he was human, I'd be all over that bartender like rust on spoiled bolts." Millian shuddered as they pulled a face at Nadia. "Ugh, don't put images in my brain, thanks. I swear if I have to watch you flirt with another thousand-pound machine..." 

Nadia swatted at him playfully. "Oh hush, like you wouldn't ride Optimus Prime like a mechanical stallion given half the chance." It makes Kyle spit his own drink out as he laughs and chokes at the same time. “Shut the fuck up Kyle!” Millian hisses. The group's Ambassador rolls Their eyes. “Behave you two, God forbid I have to get Garry to drag you both back to your rooms later” they state with a smoke of Their head.  

Taylor begins pouring herself tequila shot after tequila which gets her a look from the others realising just how hard she was taking the breakup. As Taylor's shots began piling up at an alarming rate, concerned murmurs arose among the human crew. Millian shot Nadia a look across the table. "Woah there Tex, maybe ease up on the hard stuff for a bit, yeah?" They suggested gently, resting a hand on Taylor's wrist to still the next pour. 

 "Breakups suck shit, believe me - but that's what friends are for. No need giving yourself An alcohol coma!" Nadia nodded supportively. "Mil's right, T. We're here to help you forget that piece of shit, not drown yourself." She flashed Taylor a cajoling smirk. "And who knows, might find someone else worth your time out there. Wouldn't want to miss your chance at a rebound, all because you're too fucked to function!" 

The team's Ambassador shoots Taylor a look too Check on her. "We are here to try and make your night better without you drowning yourself Tay, plus I'm pretty sure Nadia is more interested in the 'eye candy' as she likes to put it" they tease back Which earns a snort from Kyle. “Yea seems ready to jump anything that looks her way” he states partly amused as he goes back to sipping his beer. Nervous laughter arose from the humans at their ambassador's gentle teasing of Nadia. She accepted it gracefully, raising her glass in cheerful concession. 

"You got me there, boss. What can I say - alien ships, alien bars, alien hotties. A girl's gotta have her fun!" Taylor managed a half-smile at her friend's antics, tension easing slightly as others diverted focus her way. "Thanks, everyone. I know you're just looking out for me. It's been a rough week… plus this on top of it" Her gaze softened gratefully. 

Nadia leans in to Taylor with a smile that could only spell touch. And both Kyle and the Ambassador know what's about to come out of her mouth. "Sooo.. who wants to play smash or pass?" Kyle and another one of the mechanics shoot her a look as if to go ‘really?’. 

In the background curious optics watch the rowdy group of humans, some ears dropping in on the conversation others only shooting looks over when one of them gets over vocal. 

"Ooh, I love this game!" Millian crowed, bouncing mischievously in his seat. "Lay it on us, Nads - who's first on the bot buffet?" 

Skids’ optics go wide from his own seat as he turns around to watch the commotion over at the other table, partially intrigued after the last late night bar conversation with some of the other mechs, he gives Hound a slight nudge as if to get him to look over at the other Table. 

Their ambassador sighed fondly. "As your head officer, I should discourage such fraternisation... but as your friend, please try not to get yourselves into trouble God forbid I have to do the sign off overbone of you trying to get cosy with the crew." Nadia cackled, unrepentantly salacious. "Hey, no kink shame in my smash or pass!”

They go around the table multiple times asking each person a bot to smash or pass little to their knowledge or drunken state had they realised quite a few of the bots listening in on their conversation.  "You lot are a bunch of menaces, I swear if I have to drag you out of the bed of one of these good mechs because you got to grabby I'm not going to be happy" they state in a playful tease as they begin drinking their own drink.

The humans cackled irreverently at their ambassador's mock threats. "Aw, don't be like that boss!" crowded Millian. "We're just havin' a little fun gettin' to know the local talent. No harm in window shoppin', right?"

"Speak for yourself," Nadia shot back with a wink. "Some of us plan to do more than just look. A girl's on a schedule, after all - and these mechs are some mighty fine cuts of steel!" 

Ratchet shoots the group A rather disapproving look knowing if anything happened he'd have to deal with the fallout. The ambassador shoots him a look with a shake of their head while sipping their drink. They knew their group weren't exactly being subtle about it. 

Kyle groaned and hid his face, though the tips of his ears still burned hot. Even Taylor was gradually relaxing into laughter again. Catching their ambassador's imploring gaze, Taylor smiled ruefully. "Don't worry boss - I'll make sure this lot don't embarrass us too badly, we don't want a redo of what happened with Kyle and David. And if anyone does end up, er, occupied for the night... Well, I'm sure security footage could be omitted from our reports. For diplomatic purposes."

“Oh my God, one time, I go to see Kyle one fuckin time” David huffs in embrassment while pressing his face into his hands. It's Millian who realises who the ambassador's eyes are lingering On before they make a sly comment about it. “Ohhh got eyes on the old medic?” They tease before Nadia speaks up. “Mmmm bet he'd have a lot of experience, bet he'd be real nice in bed” she purrs while her eyes dance across his plating. 

One of the Bluestreak begins choking on his drink of high grade earning him a laugh from a smokescreen who slaps him on the back. He curses as he tries to make it seem that he wasn't ears dropping on the conversation. Nadia's keen eyes noticed the bot choking on high grade at the adjacent table.  

She grinned, nudging her friends eagerly. "Hey, I think we've got an audience! That mech over there started glitching when talk turned to after-hours bump and grind."

Heads swivelled covertly, giggling and pointing out the bot now sporting a rather flustered frame as his companion gleefully slapped his plating while laughing at him. 

"My, seems our alien friends find human proclivities just as intriguing as we do theirs," Kyle noted dryly. 

Millian snickered into their drink. "Bet they've never met a crew so eager to sample the merchandise firsthand." 

Nadia stretched lavishly. "What can I say - we aim to broaden cultural exchange through... hands-on cooperation." Her grin turned downright feline.

“Not that type of hands on cooperation Nadia, but I do appreciate the enthusiasm of building decent relations with our crew” The Ambassador states as their comm link goes off with an incoming call, they sigh when they read the message that pings through. ‘Needed on command deck due to an incident involving Rodimus and Daniel’. The Ambassador sighs before getting up. "I've got head, got another Accident report I've got to go process due to our captain's Asteroid surfing again" they state while moving from the table, their attentions were diverted as their ambassador rose from the table with a resigned sigh. 

"Duty calls, it seems. You lot try and stay out of trouble while I'm gone, please? I'd hate to have to bail any of you out of the brig for 'cultural exchange' gone too far." They fixed Nadia with an arched brow ridge before departing with a chuckle. 

"Tch, spoilsport," Nadia huffed affectionately. "Care to place bets on how long it takes our ambassador to get sick of Roddy's scrap and maroon him for good?" Kyle scoffs as he takes a drink. "With the amount of times the Ambassador gets called away you'd think it's a cover up story" he states as the alcohol begins going to his head. David Shakes his head as leans against Kyle. 

Nadia's eyes gleamed deviously at Kyle's insinuation, while Millian and Taylor look at him with a shocked look. “No… you don't think..?” Taylor starts 

 "Oooh, sneaky! You may be onto something there, flyboy." Nadia tapped her chin thoughtfully. 

"Let's think - who've they been spending an awful lot of 'alone time' with lately..." 

"Rodimus is always dragging them to the bridge for 'meetings'," offered Millian with wiggle-voiced air quotes. 

Taylor giggled behind her hand. "I've seen Drift approach them in the halls an unusual number of times..." 

"Megatron's been having private strategy sessions, he says," mused Kyle slyly. 

Their giggling swelled into raucous laughter and speculation at the myriad possibilities. It's only when Swerve makes his way back over to ask if anyone else wants new drinks that the drunken lot of humans continue to giggle, laugh and speculate. 

Swerve's audials perked as he drew near the boisterous human table, curiosity piqued by their spirited discussion, he leaned in eagerly. 

"Oho, sounds like you cheeky fleshies are having all the fun over here! Care to let ol' Swerve in on the gossip?" He flashed a playfully pleading grin. "A bot's gotta live vicariously through someone, after all."

"Trust us, handsome, you don't wanna know," Nadia snickered salaciously, tossing back her last shot. David  smiles, swirling his drink. "We were just speculating on who might be keeping our dear ambassador... occupied during their frequent 'calls'." He made air quotes with his free hand. 

"Oooh!" Swerve's optics flashed with glee as implications dawned. He lowered his vocalizer conspiratorially. "Do tell! I love a good intra-ship romance." Quite a few bots seem to lean in and listen in hope that it might be their name that people speculated. 

___________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

[joelscruff]

hi cat! not sure if ur taking requests but i have a small idea for bf’s dad!joel .. maybe joel giving reader a facial after she’s feeling insecure abt her bf not giving her enough attn so he shows her that all he needs is her face to finish

prove it (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

tysm for the yummy request, anon!! i've decided to combine this request with another one i got the other day: "ok bear with me but what if boyfriends dad joel came in reader and then her bf wants to have sex and sees that she still has his come inside her??? i'm going to hell." i did tweak the second request a bit (sorry!!!) but the general idea is the same. this takes place in the same universe as quickie & snack break except this one definitely has a bit more plot. summary: joel shows you how much he cares about you (in a slightly depraved way) rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: daddy!kink, dirty talk, praise kink, facials, comeplay, oral (f receiving), voyeurism word count: 2.6k (woops)

"i'm so sick of him," tears are streaming down your face as you push joel's home office door open, stomping inside and slamming it behind you. he looks up from where he's sitting at his desk, poring over blueprints for some contracting job he's got coming up, a job that's been taking up all his time as of late.

"angel, what are you doin' here?" he stands up immediately, brow furrowed in concern as he opens his arms to you, "c'mere, what's wrong?"

"why am i even with him?" you groan, head coming to rest against his chest as his arms wrap around you and hold you close, "i don't even like him."

"what'd he do?" joel murmurs against your hair, stroking your back soothingly, "he hurt you?"

"he's just an asshole," you sniffle pathetically against his button down, "i try to be close to him and he just pushes me away, just wants to play his stupid games and pretend i don't exist."

"babygirl, i'm so sorry," he whispers, "what can i do?"

"just wanted to be near you," you sniff, "i only want you, i don't want him anymore."

you feel him tense a bit, tightening his grip around you, "are you gonna break up with him?"

you're not sure what to say, just cry harder into his shirt and revel in the way his arms tighten around you, keeping you safe and soothed. you both know that a breakup has been inevitable for a while, but you're both also aware of the way it'll affect the relationship the two of you share. you won't have an excuse to be at his house anymore, to sneak into his office and have your private moments. you'll have to start meeting in secret, in public. you've been putting it off for as long as you can.

"i don't wanna think about that right now," you whisper shakily, "i just wanted to feel like someone gave a shit about me."

"babygirl," he whispers, bringing his hand up to touch your chin and pull your face up to look at him, peering softly at you with his deep brown eyes, "i give a shit about you, i always will."

"but i've barely seen you lately," you figure you might as well tell him what's on your mind now that you're already baring your emotions to him, "you've been so busy with work. you haven't even kissed me in two weeks."

"two weeks?" his brow furrows again, "baby, i'm sorry. i didn't realize it'd been that long. c'mere," he leans down and kisses you softly, lips capturing yours in that quiet and secret way he reserves only for you, tender and gentle. you kiss back with fervor, tasting him on your tongue, relishing in the feeling of having him to yourself again.

"what do you need, sweetheart?" he whispers against your lips, "need to sit in my lap for a bit? need me to fuck you? just say the word, i'll give it you."

"just wanna know that you still care," your eyes still sting with tears despite the immense comfort you feel from being at his mercy once again, "you still want me, don't you, daddy?"

"yes, baby," he pulls back to look at you intensely, expression set in a sincere expression, "i want you all the time. i swear."

"prove it," you repeat, "show me."

his eyes darken then, throat bobbing as he nods and drops his arms from around you, "take off my belt, babygirl."

you do as you're told, pulling the belt from its loops and tossing it to the floor. you unzip his jeans and he helps you pull them down. you can already see the outline of his cock through his underwear, eyes widening when you see how hard he already is.

"you see that? that's what you did to me the second you came in my office," he breathes, and you feel his hand settle gently on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin of your neck, "that's all for you, only you."

you reach forward and palm him through his underwear, staring at the large bulge and swallowing when it twitches under your fingers, pulses. you stroke him slowly, still inhaling and exhaling deeply to stop your tears.

"mine," you whisper, squeezing his girth gently. you make quick work of pulling his cock from the confines of the fabric, salivating immediately when you see that he's already at his full size, throbbing and leaking profusely. your lips part and he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

"yours," he replies, "you're so beautiful, baby, can't help but get hard just from seein' you, huggin' you," he pulls back and gives you one of his special kisses, directly on the tip of your nose. you can't help but smile, warmth flooding your chest, "get on your knees, babygirl."

you kneel before him, peering up at him from your teary lashes as he strokes his hard cock a few times, the tip ghosting lightly against your lips. you open your mouth for him, silently urging him to slip inside. he shakes his head.

"i wanna show you how crazy you make me, baby," he breathes, stroking a bit faster, "wanna show you fast i can come just from looking at that pretty face."

you look up at him in awe, mouth closing and tears stinging your eyes again as you watch him come undone with just a few strokes, staring directly into your eyes.

"watch daddy's cock," he whispers, "see how bad i want you, baby? see how hard you make me?"

you bite down on your lip, watching his hand stroke his length up and down over and over again, pulsating and throbbing in his fist. the wide tip continues to drool over his fingers, onto the floor. your pussy is already starting to soak your underwear at the mere sight of joel losing himself like this.

"gimme your come, daddy," you mewl, face scrunching with desire as you look back up at his face and watch him come apart.

"could never say no to you, babygirl," he groans, and with one final stroke he finishes, cock bobbing pornographically in his hand as he aims the sticky tip at your face and releases his come all over your lips, your cheeks, your chin. you even feel some spurt against your forehead, dripping down the bridge of your nose. your eyes close involuntarily, focused entirely on the feeling of his warm release covering every inch of your face.

you stay kneeling on the floor with your eyes closed, breathing in and out slowly. you hear him tug his zipper back up and then he's helping you stand, leading you over to the couch in the corner of the room. you open your eyes again when you feel him crouch between your legs, pulling down your shorts and panties in one strong tug.

"what are you-"

he interrupts your query when he ducks his head between your thighs, places his mouth on your clit and begins to suck. you let out an obscene moan, tossing your head back as your hands find a place in his hair. you tug on his greying locks as he licks and sucks your pussy relentlessly, barely coming up for air as he devours you.

"oh fuck," you whimper, and you look down just in time to see him peering up at you through hooded and hazy eyes, drunk on his orgasm and your pussy, "joel, oh my god."

he pulls back for a moment, smirking deliciously, "you know better than to call me joel, sweetheart" he licks a stripe up your center, sloppy and loud, "who am i?"

"daddy," you say, voice wrecked as you grip the couch cushions for support, "you're my daddy."

"good girl," he murmurs, then sucks your clit into his mouth with no hesitation, smiles against your heat when you begin to shake and writhe with your orgasm. your eyes shut tightly and you're vaguely aware of a drop of joel's come sliding down your eyelash to your cheek, reminding you that his release is still all over your face.

"love treating my babygirl like the princess she is," he whispers as he stands up from between your legs and inches in beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close, "covered in daddy's come, pussy all swollen and satisfied, just what you deserve."

you hum in agreement, body lax against his on the couch. you feel him swipe a finger across your face, clearing up some of his release. you whimper when you feel him bring his fingers to your pulsing pussy, pushing his come inside of you and placing his hand over your hole to keep it in.

"this is mine," he murmurs, thumbing your clit gently, "you're mine. no one else's."

"i'm yours, daddy," you whimper, eyes still closed as joel swipes another fingerful of come off your face and repeats the previous gesture, slipping it past your throbbing entrance, "i don't wanna be with him anymore."

"okay, babygirl," he says softly, "we'll figure it out."

a sudden loud knock on the door snaps you both out of your private moment. you hear your boyfriend say your name on the opposite side, loud and firm followed by, "i know you're in there."

your eyes widen, a fear you've never felt before etched all over your face as you look frantically at joel. your expression is enough for him to understand your sudden horror.

you forgot to lock the door.

you both stand up, joel reaching for your panties at the same moment you reach for your shorts. he thrusts them at you and pushes you toward his office bathroom door, not saying a word in his absolute panic, just wanting to make sure you're hidden away. just as the bathroom door shuts with you inside, you hear the office door open.

"where is she?" you hear your boyfriend say angrily, "i heard her voice, i know she's here."

"calm down," joel says, stern and serious, "give her a minute, she's upset."

"she's fucking dramatic is what she is," your boyfriend growls, "jesus, dad, why are you always on her fucking side?"

"because she comes crying to me about you almost every time she's here," joel's voice is strained, clearly angry but holding back as best he can, "if you don't start treatin' her right, you're gonna lose her."

"i don't give a shit, she's not fucking worth it."

"no, you're not fucking worth it," joel says, voice getting louder, "why she's still with you is a fucking mystery to me, i didn't raise you to treat women like this."

"she's just a girl, dad. chill the fuck out."

"she is not just a girl," joel's voice is booming now, "and you'd fucking realize that if you actually talked to her."

the entire time they've been talking you've been quietly wiping your face, cleaning up as silently as you can while you listen to their argument. you toss the wet cloth in the hamper when you're done and press your ear up against the door, feeling tears prick in your eyes again. you're not sure what you're more emotional about, your boyfriend being horrible or joel defending your honor. either way you suppose a fresh outpour of tears will help the situation seem a little more normal when you leave the bathroom.

"i'm done with this," your boyfriend is saying, almost spitting with frustration, "stay out of it dad, i mean it. let me see her."

"give her a minute," joel repeats, "she needs some space."

"let. me. see. her." your boyfriend enunciates each word, voice harsh and rough; you can tell he's getting closer and closer to the bathroom door.

to save joel from doing something he'll regret you shove open the bathroom door, eyes downcast, "i wanna go home," you say quietly, tears streaming down your face again, "someone just take me home, please."

--

joel had immediately offered but your boyfriend had shut him down, walking toward you with softening eyes.

"i'm sorry, babe," he'd said, suddenly a different person now that he saw how upset you were, "i'll take you home."

now you're sitting in his car, watching the neon lights go by through the window as he drives you home in silence. it's raining and depressing and all you want is to be back with joel, safe and desired.

once you get to your house your boyfriend parks in the driveway and turns to look at you, "you ready to talk yet?"

you stare, "i have nothing to say."

he turns away from you, grinding his teeth together, "why are you always such a fucking bitch?"

you turn silently in your seat, arms crossed as you continue to stare out the window. you could get out of the car but you know he'll just follow you, probably start yelling in front of your house so all the neighbors can hear you. it's happened before.

"why do you always go to my dad?" he asks, shaking his head, "i don't get it. he gives terrible advice."

"maybe i don't go to him for advice," you say immediately. "maybe i go to him so someone will actually listen to me for once."

"well you're annoying the shit out of him is what you're doing," he says harshly, "he's just too nice to tell you to leave him alone."

"is that right?" you ask, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from absolutely losing it.

"yeah, that's right."

you sit in silence for a few more moments, still biting back all the awful things you want to say. i'm fucking your dad, you wish you could snarl at him, i call him daddy and he fucking loves it.

"listen... i'm sorry," he says turning to look at you again, "i know i'm an asshole sometimes."

you twist your mouth, tears still spilling over as you cross your arms tighter against your chest.

"let's just sleep on it, okay?" he murmurs, reaching over to push a strand of hair behind your ear, "and if you wanna break up with me in the morning then we'll deal with it."

you sigh shakily, nodding, "fine."

he strokes the skin behind your ear and you feel his fingers suddenly freeze. you look over at him and see him peering curiously at something.

"what?" you ask, confused.

"what's this in your hair?" he asks, making a face, "looks like..."

your eyes widen and you pull back immediately, "it's moisturizer, i was trying to make my face less puffy."

he stares at you, slightly confused by your reaction. his hand slowly comes down from your hair and he looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening and then closing again. instead, he turns away from you and puts both hands on the wheel, knuckles flexing white.

"i think you should get out now," he says quietly.

your eyes are still wide, unsure if he believes your lie or not. slowly you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the handle of the door, still peering at him with a frightened gaze. he turns to look at you again, jaw set tightly.

"tell me that's not what i think it is," he says, voice hard and firm.

"it's moisturizer," you repeat, trying to keep your voice as relaxed as possible, "i swear."

he just continues to stare at you with an unreadable expression as you open the car door and get out. as soon as you shut it behind you his tires squeal against the pavement of your driveway, pulling out fast and dangerously. you watch his car disappear down the street as you stand there, goosebumps rising on your skin from the chilly nighttime air.

you yank out your phone and quickly send a text to joel, eyes still wide:

i think he knows.

---

thank you sm for reading!! this little miniseries definitely isn't my best work by any means but it's fun to write. this one got way longer and way more plotty than i was expecting lmao but i hope it was enjoyable for somebody!

here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💖

[bunnys-kisses]

can I pls have a spice pie and maple taffy… with drinks of dark roast coffee and a martini? Served Lance stroll? THANK YOUUUU UR THE GOAT

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you come up with! and thank you to all of those who have sent prompts, i am working really hard to get them all done. so thank you! i hope you enjoy this, to the twenty lance stroll fans who are all in my inbox (ily) <3 (also picking maple taffy for lance stroll is funny as hell)

edit: i realized that i horribly misread this prompt and got sub!character mixed up with sub!reader, so where ever you are anon. if you wish to submit another prompt, i am more than happy to write it properly for you. (it's been a long writing session tonight!)

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." + maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid." + dark roast coffee: sub!character reader + martini: mafia au served by lance stroll (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!lance, dom/sub, sub!reader & dom!lance, jealous!lance

maybe bringing you to las vegas was a bad idea. sin city wasn't the type of place that a girl liked you belonged in. you belonged in the lovely apartment that you and lance shared back in montreal. bundled up in your thick winter coat while you went to go pick up a bottle of wine for dinner or a late night snack run only to whine when the corner store was closed.

sin city was a whole other demon, one that you had never seen. that was what lance chalked it all up to, you trying to fit in, as you tried to leave your hotel room dressed on par with a nighttime slut.

"where are you going?" he asked as he rolled up the sleeves of his button up. he looked good in it, the fabric of the shirt clung to his arms perfectly, only slightly outshone by how it fit his shoulders.

"seeing the other girls, it's not every day we're in the same city." just as the heads of families kept in contact with each other, the significant others of said men in power also kept in contact. except your conversations were a little less business oriented. more casual and fun.

lance eyed you up and down. you were wearing something very revealing, very slutty. he gave a nod of his head, "and you're going dressed like that."

you looked down at your outfit. it was a satin baby pink slip with straps that crossed in the back. it was cut well above your knee and paired with strappy heels. you looked back at him, "why wouldn't i?"

"do you not see what's wrong with it? you look like you should be selling sex on the strip. like a whore!"

you pouted, "i don't look like a whore!" then stamped your foot down like a child. you watched lance roll his shoulders before he closed the space between you two and had you pressed against the door of the hotel room.

he grabbed you by the chin and made you look into his dark eyes. he said lowly, "oh my god you're stupid, i bet i could sell you on the strip tonight. maybe shove you in a stall at the casino and let you put those whorish lips to work." he rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip before he rubbed the lip gloss between his thumb and pointer finger, "you seem ready to be used in a glory hole."

your bottom lip wobbled, "i'm not a whore." you could feel your knees grow into jelly and lance simply pulled you in for a kiss. when he kissed you, you moaned into it and pressed yourself up against him.

when he pulled away and said, "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." before he grabbed you by the ass and pulled you against him. his cock twitched in his slacks.

you pouted further at him before he pulled you into another searing kiss. it was excited you in a way that you felt almost pathetic when you moaned loudly against him. there was something about your mafia boyfriend that made you simply melt. you were twisted between his fingers, which was why it was so hard to disobey him.

he looked at you for a moment before he roughly patted your cheek, "yeah, you're not going out tonight. tell your girlfriends that we made other plans tonight."

"what do i say?"

he took you by the hand and pulled you away from the door. you were pressed against him for a moment which made you feel warm between your legs. he replied, "lie." and it wasn't before you were on the large hotel room and you were looking up at your boyfriend.

there was something domineering about lance's strong, dark features. there was a mystery about him that lured you in. that was probably why you were initially drawn to him. he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt and eyed you up and down.

it wasn't hard to get you out of the dress, it was barely a scrap of fabric that covered you. if lance pulled on it hard enough he could probably tear the seams. but if he did that, you'd probably cum on the spot. you weren't wearing a bra and the panties you wore barely covered anything.

"i could've sold you for a pretty penny tonight." he chuckled as he took off his belt and wrapped it around his hand for a moment, but then unwound it. you were a glutton for punishment and lance wasn't going to quench that thirst.

you looked at him, naked on the bed. you were seated on the mattress with your legs stretched out. you pouted, "i'm sorry, sir." and that licked something in lance's brain.

it made him drop his belt to the ground and he chuckled, "someone really is sorry, huh." he leaned forward and cupped your face for a moment. he could almost feel your racing pulse under his fingers, "next time, i get to pick what you wear. so i know that you're being safe out there. this city would eat you alive, sweetheart. if i lost you, i don't even want to think what i would do. rip the city in half."

you felt something swim in your guy. you licked your lips, tasting the bubblegum of your lip gloss. you pulled away and laid out on the bed. eventually you inched yourself up into the pillows and reached your arms out for him.

lance quickly got his slacks and undergarments off before he got into bed with you. he got himself between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. your legs hiked up around his waist and his hard cock against your slick pussy.

"fuckin' hell." he groaned as he kissed at your neck, "you feel like a dream. i know it. i know you so well, every inch of you." he sank his cock into you and your toes curled a little. you tensed for a moment before you relaxed enough to slot himself into you.

you held onto his shoulders and let out a soft moan.

lance admired your expression for a moment. he felt a shudder of pleasure through his body as he held onto your hips. he made sure that you were more comfortable with his cock inside of you before he started to move. he rocked against you, gaining momentum with each of his movements.

"i've admired you every day since i met you. you are the most beautiful woman in any city were in. no one holds a candle to you." he gripped onto you tighter and you did the same. the two of you were soon kissing deeply, the kisses were heavy and muffled the noises that you two made. but not the sounds of the hotel bed creaking under you.

"mmm, lance." you whimpered as he moved against you. you could feel the heat across you body. your cheeks flushed with sexual heat. this was how you two always ended up, tumbled in the sheets together, rutting against one another like animals.

"see, you look much better like this. better than any club. if you wanted to get drunk, we could do that here. and then i'd make sure your hangover wasn't too bad. fuck the drunk out of you." he chuckled lowly as he continued to fuck you.

you felt the pleasure continue to course through you. you held onto him tighter as you tried to pick up the pace. the moans were loud and sweet, "please, sir." you were lance's everything. from a lover to a sexual submissive. you drove him wild.

the pace between you two was quick as the two of you fucked with a heat between the two of you. the kisses continued, they were messy just like your pace. it wasn't long before you clutched onto lance tightly with your head on his shoulder as you felt so close to him. sweaty all over.

"beautiful." he hissed as he felt the pleasure hit its peak. you both came at the same time. you thought you could feel his heartbeat as he finished inside of you. you both were panting heavily and the sweat covered your body. you laid out there under him while he pulled away a little bit to admire your naked form. he licked his lips at the sight of you and said, "mine."

you nodded dumbly and said, "yours, always." before lance had you on your elbows and knees with your hips raised. you'd text the others later about why you couldn't meet up with them. but it was hard to do that when your phone was in the living area and lance was rearranging your insides. <3

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you 

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 

dude 

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins 

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers 

wow 

fuck you

just landed 

thought you might like to know 

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 

September 2021

dude enough okay 

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk 

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   

November 2021 

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm 

idk why i’m trying again  

maybe i should block you 

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was 

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige 

merry christmas i guess

March 2022 

i misz you 

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich 

pkese pick up 

ignore that 

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 

wait 

i don’t need to tell you that 

you already ignore it all anyways

 

August 2022 

i heard about the acl 

i’m sorry 

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm 

***

September 2022 

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 

 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

*** 

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 

“You wanna see my dorm?” 

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 

“You having fun?” 

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

[yurislotusgarden]

Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔

Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3

Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D

-💞 anon

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way

ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3

Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.

You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.

"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~" 

And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.

"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"

"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"

"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."

"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"

“I-”

You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“...”

“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”

You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-

“Honey.”

“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.

“*I love you but we need to get up*”

A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”

You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.

4 hours.

4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.

“Chu?”

The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.

A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”

A quiet groan came from the man. 

“Nuh-uh”

“Honey.”

“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.

“We need to get up-”

“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.

“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”

Is it even worth trying to argue?

“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”

“Chuuya!”

“Not changing my mind.”

No, absolutely not.

“I will change your damn mind when I-”

Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.

“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”

But you will always try to argue anyway.

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.

Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.

Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.

You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”

A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.

“You need to get up.”

“But I don’t wanna.”

A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.

“Sigma.”

One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”

“Sigma.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?

“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”

“Why?”

“Look at your phone.”

“Okay?”

Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.

Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.

You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[rindough]

that first anon again: oh my god losing my religion by r.e.m. for boothill. this man is SO full of teenage angst, sitting in the corner of one of those old timey country bars all veiled in shadow looking at the person he has feelings for laughing and dancing in the crowd, completely mesmerised as he rests his chin on a hand with a focused expression, mouth slightly open, and absent-mindedly traces the rim of his glass with a finger from the other, almost without realising. You ain't slick, dude. Go talk to them.

God, I am so fucking normal about him.

OH YA i forgot to reply to a question from ur prev ask, sure! u can give me indie songs as well heheeee, and ngl i wasnt expecting this song but its one of my fav songs to vibe to!!!!

OKOK I GOT THE IDEA AND I FIND IT CUTE buttt i kinda put a twist to it if thats okay!

--;

so lets say you're a regular at this diner in town, you had your fair amount of visits here with your friends, your family, even alone. boothill has seen it all, but god at each time he tries to strike up a conversation with you, it either comes off awkward or him just flying off his seat from trying to 'smoothly' whoosh onto the stool.

he doesn't know what made him this... intrigued by your presence, why is it that everytime the door bell chimes, he glances by the door to see if it was you, the way your voice echo in the quiet diner, the way you spun around after you got your order and straight out the door you walked. he wants to know why and how has he suddenly had the balls to walk up to you, and just start some small talk.

unfortunately on his side, it got to the point where it only ends in 'hi's or 'i see's. he thought he could do it, he thought he could whoosh his way in n perhaps whoosh his way out out this diner with u tagging along. but look at where he is now, it's not that you don't get along, but with the way he looks into your eyes and stutter whatever he wants to say, fumbling over words and fall into silence while you wait, while you search his eyes, his body languages. Waiting for something more, as the man himself got you to become a nervous mess too.

but overtime, he gradually became standoffish, he no longer sits beside you at most of your visits, he doesn't look high up above the diner booth to check if its you (he observes from the window instead 🙄), he just waves, he just stands up to go at your presence, he just-

he no longer visits the diner.

in fear and perhaps shame, he and his cyborg body, you would prefer someone much more... human, right? what does it take for a cyborg like him to woo someone he fancies?

it's impossible, he thought. at this point, he'll just give up and not think about the thing people call, the thing he once dreamt of having, love. he'll just give up the act and focus on some... commission he has or whatever...

but does he really though?

"dude, since day 1, are you still gonna mess this right up?"

the voice behind him pulls him out of his trance, the spunk haired man stays put in his seat, the fold of his index rubbing his bottom lips while a thumb rests on his his sharp jawline. choosing to ignore the blond waiter by his side. the waiter throws his tablecloth aside.

"hello?" he snaps his fingers at him, earning a 'tsk' from the man.

"whaddaya want? can't ya see i'm busy?"

"busy doing what? staring at them from this corner of the bar? i know that look of yours, i saw what happened last time-"

"and what? what makes you think i stand a chance with them, best believe 'm gonna look after them from far away. they don't needa see me here, they don't gotta see me at all."

the waiter groans, as if the man in front of him is being blind or feigning ignorance to escape falling in love, to just... dwell in his insecurities. "bro, look at the way they look at you!"

boothill stays put, eyes blinking at your swaying form, your head shaking side to side at the music. the way you jump, throw your hands up, his mouth falls slightly ajar at the way you move. his throat runs a little dry at the way beauty could exist in many forms and at anytime, and this was one of the many times he had found beauty in you. he had found himself longing for you.

it's agonizing honestly.

both on your end and on his.

you're here swaying to the music from the speakers, mingling with other youngsters in your town, hoping that when you turn around to start talking, it'd be the one you've been looking for this whole time, the one whose clumsy way of flirting leaves you wanting more and more. the night was young and there's ample time for him to visit the diner, but... would he?

for him, he wishes he was the only one under your spotlight, the one making you laugh, oh how he loves the way your lips curl into a smile, the way your eyes twinkle.

if he was out there in the crowd with you, best believe he'll twirl and dip you down on the dancefloor and make you have the best night and dance of your whole life.

he turns his head sideways, looking at the blond. "what's with the way they look at me?"

then he turns back to observe you. maybe, just maybe, you would turn around at a certain degree and meet his yearning gaze. wondering if he can make you feel his presences by drilling holes into your skull.

"..." at this point he's defeated, he can't be bothered to explain all these lovey-dovey pre-dating crush nonsense to this sulking cowboy.

"y'kno mister, they've been looking for you every time when you're not around the diner. do i gotta explain more? do i gotta explain the 'where's boothill? have you seen him? has he visited today?'" he mocks, "ya wanna know what happened when i told them no every single time? they just left the diner- not ordering anything!"

the spunk haired man hums, now no longer focused on you, but instead, his back facing the crowd as he stares into the prepared drink before him, finger circling the rim of the glass as the complaints of the waiter goes unheard.

if what the man was saying is true, then... but... why? what made him special enough for you to promptly ask for him at every visit. and he bet it was every visit, since he's not even in the diner every day for months. so, why did he have to leave?

was it the fear of judgement?

was it fear of rejection?

or was it the fear of losing you?

so-

"so?" the waiter quirks an eyebrow, "what do you plan to do with that information-"

he can't back down now, the aftertaste of soulglad lingers the back of his mouth, he's walking, walking towards the crowd, thank god your back was facing him... otherwise he wouldn't be doing what he was doing now, otherwise he'd instantly run away again. and he does not plan to let you search for him again.

"hey." he whispers, smiling gently at the way you suck in your breath at the sight of him.

he never thought he'd feel his heart melt much more than before the moment your soft lips mellow into a smile, the twinkle of your eyes refreshing his past, yet brief memories with you.

"hi."

--;

©  2024 rindough, do not repost or plagiarize.

[cruyuu]

hii! that mini-rant of yours abt sukuita was beautiful. i'm just curious about ur thoughts regarding them and what made you like them so much?? (and it's good that you moved off twitter, it's a nasty place)

Hello anon!

I'll start by agreeing with you– that app really is annoying. I was thinking of moving off it because some ppl's interpretations of characters in jjk just started pissing me off but when I got those same ppl screaming in my qrts over and over how I can like this insane, disgusting ship (while they enjoyed twisted shit as well and get a clap on the back for it, I get judged for it like come on) I knew it was time.

As for what made me like them so much– even if they are problematic and kinda ???– well, strap in.

(I'm kinda angry there aren't more analyses of them but... oh well. Only #real fans of jjk know that Sukuna secretly is a fan of Yuuji and that he doesn't want to kill him because he loves really cares about his progress as a sorcerer apparently???)

Anyways, more under the cut.

First off, if someone told me I'll lowkey be obsessed with them, I wouldn't believe them. Honestly, I thought their situation was worrying, kinda weird yet hilarious right up until the Shibuya Incident arc where I saw the true extent of Sukuna's power and thought that hey, Yuuji kept ignoring this monster, this absolute disaster of a man and he was fine? He suffered absolutely no mental or physical repercussions before that? What? This apocalypse that's deep inside him nearly fucking giggled "Don't look up at me like that brat :3" when Yuuji died and went to his domain yet he nearly decapitated Jugo and the two teens merely because they held their heads a bit high.

Hell, Yuuji also threatens him yet he– tongue-in-cheek– brushes that off with "You look like you want to kill me". The anime really points out the weird amusement because you can hear him speak and Sukuna not only sounds amused, a bit done but he also sounds like he's teasing him (and is reveling in it)

He bargains with Yuuji calmly, offers him a vow to resurrect him only if he accepts to let him take control for a minute. You would think he'd ask for more, be greedy, be like "fuck this" and torture Yuuji until he accepts but instead he indulges him.

Yet...

Yuuji clearly got the special treatment. Sukuna could've easily showed off his power, tortured him, made him intently aware that he's not supposed to fuck around... yet it was "I fixed ur arm, where my hug at". Maybe I was overthinking it back then, when I first picked up jjk, but this struck such a deep cord within me that I couldn't function properly for days because I kept thinking of Sukuna– the epitome of evil– giggling like a school girl, allowing Yuuji to be "menacing" and disrespectful, and just dismiss all of that while if it was anyone else in Yuuji's shoes, they'd be mangled, ripped apart, tortured until death and laughed over (on repeat).

I love the 'two souls stuck in one body' idea. Like Yuuji has the epitome of the word evil inside of him while he's literally a sunshine. I could totally see Sukuna trying to break Yuuji from the inside out– torture him, threaten him, kill him over and over again, all just to pass the time, test out how it feels to be alive again– and I was kinda surprised canon never went with that option. Instead Yuuji just ignored him while Sukuna did... well... quite little. I still find it hilarious how it's canon that Sukuna yaps while Yuuji just ignores him. Yuuji's got guts, really.

Now this would be just that. They have an interesting dynamic, problematic as fuck but so very interesting and fascinating to explore both in the fluffy or the grim way but considering where we are currently– It isn't just that. It got both worse and better (regarding both my decent into madness– this ship– and them in canon).

I'll separate what more I want to talk about into sections because it's easier that way.

The Beginning & The End

The story quite literally opens with them. Yuuji being kicked into an unknown world (aka the inciting incident) is the result of him finding Sukuna's finger before Megumi can even find it. If Yuuji never stumbled upon that finger, the fight with the curse at that school wouldn't happen. He'd never get to meet Megumi, nor have to swallow Sukuna's finger. So without them, jjk wouldn't exist.

Chapter 1 is titled "Ryoumen Sukuna" and Yuuji and his Occult Club speculate that a lingering spirit is haunting the premises of the school. Their theory is swiftly debunked (Ticks lol), but they didn't know that their theory proved to be kinda correct.

And yes, the explanation being ticks is awfully fitting. Ticks are parasites– they latch on and slowly bury themselves inside of a human (or animal) and if you spot them too late, you aren't able to take them out and need to visit a hospital because these little annoyances are quite deadly. Sukuna's finger was around that school for an unknown time, since Yuuji found him, attracting curses which preyed on people without anyone even noticing. Plus parasites often need a host to survive– Yuuji being his vessel and having to swallow fingers to completely resurrect him.

What follows right after that is a bit meta and again, foreshadowing the future events:

1. Yuuji and his Occult Club being dismissed for spreading rumors — Yuuji couldn't see curses before he saw death for the first time.

2. Yuuji being a part of Track-And-Field team and not the Occult club — How Yuuji wasn't born as a sorcerer. He's just your average high schooler– someone quite boring.

3. The club president of the Track-And-Field interrupts them to say he rewrote it because he wants to make use of Yuuji's extraordinary abilities for the track team. Yuuji refuses, so the coach challenges him to a game that Yuuji wins with ease. – He's being warned off traveling that road that main characters go through, telling Yuuji to stick to a normal life. He's no sorcerer, after all. But here's the thing— Yuuji, despite not being born a sorcerer, is still special. He has incredible strength and lightning speed so even if he's not as cool as sorcerers, not someone special, he still kind of is. After all, Yuuji will go on to survive hosting The King of Curses, successfully prevent him from taking control and proceed to keep him on a leash.

And also:

He's not afraid as normal people in his shoes would be. Hell, he literally made the fabled King of Curses look like a joke. Do I need to remind you that Megumi couldn't do that despite being a sorcerer? Despite not being a sorcerer, despite not being cut out for this, he still likes it and wants to be a part of it.

Also, regarding it's growing on me– did you know that ticks' body grows as they feed on blood, but they only burrow their heads into the host and grow on them by laying eggs within?

He survived hosting Sukuna, promptly told him to fuck off from his body and got enlisted into Jujutsu High despite not being a sorcerer. Plus he got a gift– being able to use cursed energy due to Sukuna. Again, he is specialz. (And yes! Specialz by King Gnu is literally a sukuita anthem! The song is a twisted version of a ballad– a love letter from a beast that enjoys seeing the agony on his lovers' face rather than a smile. Who enjoys making him lose his mind and nudges him to accept the catastrophe. To embrace the ugly and lose the good. Like: You are my special; we are special; get lost in me; i love you baby?? It literally played over Yuuji's mental breakdown– and Sukuna told him to admire the mess he made– like what more proof do you need??!?!)

If Yuuji never swallowed Sukuna's finger, he never would've had cursed energy. He never would've became a jujutsu sorcerer. He never would've unleashed hell upon earth, watched his friends die and that promise he made to his grandfather would be left for helping regular people out in any way and not exterminating curses. He would've been way happier and way less traumatized but then this story wouldn't exist. 😔

But, I digress.

Yuuji's our main character and Sukuna's the final boss of the story. Despite the narrative promptly ignoring and continuously ridiculing Yuuji, stating he's nothing (a cog in the machine), it's all just so he would prove himself. Fight his way up. Embrace change. All writers know it. And besides, even if he's powerless and weak, well that matters little— considering Sukuna would go on to kill the strongest jujutsu sorcerer yet somehow still not deal with a weakling like him. The same weakling who keeps growing and maturing, being molded and shaped and therefore rightfully needs to be put down before he becomes a threat. I mean Uraume did comment to Sukuna in 257 that Yuuji is like an empty husk actively retaining some elements of him, a fact which should make killing him be Sukuna's top priority because it implies Yuuji— even if weak— could grow to become Sukuna's equal and therefore could kill him.

Still, Sukuna doesn't care lol. He doesn't consider him a threat, calls him boring, yet has a nearly two-page inner monologue just because he learned a fucking reversed curse technique. Lol

It goes like:

you're boring. you're literally insignificant that even killing you is a waste of time.

wait he learned reversed cursed technique within a month?

guess it's time to have some fun with him and then kill him

what the fuck is this irritating feeling

Sukuna pouts. He pouts and spaces out while wondering about connections and what people are to him. Like... ok? That's kinda ga Even Yuuji is stunned why he didn't continue fighting him but instead just started making faces like he's sad. Also, worthy of note is that he had the perfect opportunity to slam his fist through him because he was distracted. Sukuna's usually highly aware of his surroundings, very much in the moment when fighting an opponent, yet Yuuji does a new thing and now Sukuna is stopping the fight to contemplate about unnecessary things instead of you know, being normal and continuing the fight? It's so funny to me. (Also the way he's awfully handsty didn't escape my notice.)

Anyways, to go back and bring your attention to what I stated at the beginning: Everything started with them. Rightfully so, everything will end with them. There's something so beautiful about Yuuji being incomparable to Sukuna in terms of power, being mocked and ridiculed by the story, not special at all and not improving much even if he is improving. It would make his final battle with Sukuna so satisfying that I cannot really put it into words and I will be there no matter what!

Can you imagine that? The poetry of it all– the King of Curses defeated by a nobody. It's brilliant, really. Part of their charm, part of what makes them addicting.

Perfect Opposites

Another thing that makes sukuita delicious is the rather blatant contrast between them. They're total opposites in every sense of the word. The story continiously highlights it.

The story tries to belittle Yuuji, make him as insignificant to the overall plot as it can, make us– the audience– convinced and fearful that Yuuji will not bring about any change. It convinced most of the audience to root for characters equipped with the qualities an mc should have (like Gojo, like Yuta, Megumi, name it), to look away from the pawn that is Yuuji.

Most people, after all, don't like weak, not cool characters. Usually, what shonen does is that it will continually boost the MC's power until the protagonist could practically wipe the floor with the antagonist. As is the case in jjk, most ppl expected that Gojo vs Sukuna would leave Sukuna weakened, on the verge of dying, yet that wasn't the case. Instead Gojo got cut in half which had driven the entire fandom to start hating Gege as an author. To start crying about Sukuna being OP, that the story's gone to shit, all because the side character they rooted for didn't end the main antagonist of the series. How come someone as strong as Gojo dies yet someone who's weak– like Yuuji– lives?

You see, I love when shonen inverts tropes. I love that Gege hyped Gojo up, gave him a perfect backstory which already highlights and forshadows why he would lose, why he's not the strongest, etc. I also love the fact that Yuta went on and, instead of facing Sukuna by himself, chose to wear Gojo like a coat. I love how the MC is just standing on the sidelines instead of actively dealing with the threat.

That same MC who wishes to save his friend, who fights for others, who's as selfless as ever. Who's not a strong sorcerer but a strong person. Who keeps on witnessing how the strong ones are plucked like flies and possibly is wondering how the hell anyone's– let alone him– is going to defeat the threat in front of him.

The entire jujutsu society didn't sit down and speculate about Sukuna's weaknesses and strengths. Didn't even sit down to formulate a plan, to fight together, because it's all about proving your worth as the strongest, right? It's all about cool techniques, showing off, etc.

Most people saw it like this– well if Sukuna is strong then just have strong characters fight him. There you go. You have the strongest jujutsu sorcerer against the strongest used-to-be jujutsu sorcerer. If there's anyone on the same level as Sukuna, it has to be someone exactly like him. A monster. A mirror.

Most people don't see the point of Yuuji being the executioner because the narrative convinced them throwing a puny Yuuji against someone like Sukuna will realistically get him killed. For someone who should be dead by all accounts, Yuuji keeps persisting and keeps pissing Sukuna off– the same man who still doesn't kill him because of well... reasons. He's too insignifact to even crush, by Sukuna's standards. Yet he takes pride in torturing him– killing off and taking away people that Yuuji loves– has inner monologues about him, thinks back on him too much for no reason while fighting different people, almost as if he's fascinated, as if he cares, as if he never met someone like him.

If you'd ask the majority of the fandom who'd get to kill Sukuna: Gojo seemed like a plausable option, at first. Yuta too. Hell, Megumi even. After all, they're continiously put in focus, placed as special and branded as 'has potential'. Then Gojo dies, Megumi's taken over and Yuta is possibly on his way to death (Note: jjk is an ongoing story so... yeah. This is written before Chapter 262 for anyone who's reading this in the future.)

These people tend to forget one simple thing– that opposites attract. That you don't fight fire with fire, but with water. You don't come at the King of Curses with techniques using cursed energy– instead you come at him with raw strength alone. You don't battle to prove your place as a sorcerer– you battle to save a friend, to save people from a massacre.

If you battle to prove your ideal– then you best come at your opponent with something they don't know about. They know about being strong. They know about being a monster. They know about everything selfish because they embody it. Show them a different view.

Be selfless.

There's no one more tailored for the role than Itadori Yuuji. No one special. Weak. Insignificant. A total opposite to Sukuna. It is to be expected by most people that if he faces Sukuna in a battle, that he'd be killed off in an instant yet he survived a couple of battles with him nonetheless. He's broken down, haunted by all the people that died in front of him, but is still suicidal enough to face Sukuna all because he wants to save Megumi. He does it out of care. Out of love. He'd willingly trade his life for anyone.

Love isn't a curse. It is, in fact, the opposite. Love (unconditional one) is the most powerful weapon against curses.

And that is Yuuji's biggest strength. That is the key. He's there to prove that isolation makes you weak, that it is the bonds you share with others that make you strong, make you push on, make you live. Not your capabilities as a jujutsu sorcerer, but you as a person. Jjk does a great job at portraying that who you are matters more than what rank you are on those power-scaling polls.

This is why I adore them so much. I admittedly did go off a bit (literally crafted a theory) but it was all to prove a point why I love them. What makes Yuuji so perfect as Sukuna's doom— a perfect opposite— is the fact that he's a living, breathing epitome of something Sukuna never knew about. Friendship. Love. Care. Lowkey it does sound cheesy but it works. It really works too well lol

Yuuji will end Sukuna with the power of love.

Also: Funnily enough, both Sukuna and Yuuji do look extremely alike. Sukuna's OG form is literally Yuuji grown up. You could say, in a way, that Sukuna is just Yuuji who chose the dark path lmfao

They're not beating the twins allegations but neither are they beating the 'each other's half' because their contrasting way of living, of looking at the world, just places them as perfect enemies, perfect soulmates, two sides of the same coin, etc.

They're enemies and I've always been weak for enemies to lovers to I'd still kill you.

Family Matters

I ranted a bit about this here. Although yes, this adds even more shit onto the plate and literally slaps an incest tag onto them, it still gives further depth to their relationship.

Like I said in my rant– Yuuji is an offspring of Sukuna's twin brother who he devoured. From the story perspective, that puts Yuuji on a big pedestal. He could be the perfect revenge for his father who got eaten before he could even live. Let's not forget that Yuuji got sentenced to death by the story when he swallowed Sukuna's finger and survived, which kinda mirrors that (He's just fifteen yet the threat of death was looming over his head daily).

But despite the odds, he still lived– just like Sukuna's twin brother had managed to get reincarnated (to experience life)– even if that brought on a massacre and led to the mess we are in now.

So, Yuuji ending him is the perfect revenge. Pure poetry. Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Now, I know most people get the ick about this ship now. After all, it is ugly if you view their relationship through a romantic light. It's horrible, but at the end of the day, it is fictional. They're two lines on paper, not something that exists. No, that doesn't brand anyone liking them a literal real life incest enjoyer or dangerous individual nor is there any deeply rooted psychological problem with the people liking them. And I know— So why do you like this? Because I am an adult and can seperate what isn't real and what is. If you can't, then stay away from fiction because applying morals to something that doesn't exist is worrying.

Also in fiction, there are no rules because putting rules in fiction is destroying what makes fiction good in the first place! Hope this helps.

Sukuna and Yuuji being uncle and nephew makes for some good memes, some problematic– familial or romantic– fics and still works for the narrative. I'm not complaining and I genuienly can't hate them. It can't make me unship them. Their dynamic is too interesting for me, I'm afraid. I love them, whether in a romantic, purely familial, platonic, enemies, whatever way.

So yeah, anon. There you go.

Sukuita is very interesting for writers who want to push boundaries when it comes to writing dark, disturbing stuff but it is also a playground for those who want to nick them out of canon and have fun with them. I am one of those people because I really do find both of them interesting– in canon or an au, related or not, similar or opposites, whatever.

Have a great day/night!

[blkkizzat]

you’re my favorite toji writer so i’m curious as to any head cannons you may have for him? can be nsfw or not! up to you lovely 💘

sorry this took so long nonny but i wanted to give you something good...

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!! HELLO!?!?! CAN I OPEN MOUTH SLOPPY KISS U ON THE LIPS!?!?

No one. I mean NO ONE ever says that to me about daddy Toji!! but I've gotten that so many times with Gojo and Geto and i don't even fux with them that hard. they is not my main mans (but im also for the streets so we dont send good diq away over here!)

Nah, imma share this in the group chat fr cause they always tease me about being a gojo writer now and im like NAURRRRR Toji is forever and always daddy.

SO BLESS YOU!!! THANK YOU!!!

I hope you get your ass ate for that one nonny. Also pick an emoji plz cause imma need to talk to you lots more

YOU GET ME. YOU SEE MEEEEE!!!! 💗😭💗😭

But Toji headcanons?? Oh you got it babes!! Theres are SFW cause im feeling a bit sweet and demure today jfkhdfjdh.

i really headcanon one of the best dynamics to have with him is a play/challenge type relationship with him where you guys share the same sense of humor and both a lil morally ambigious.

like y'all are constantly playfully dragging each other. i know this is already part of his "asshole front" of a personality but what surprises him is when you can not only take it but dish it right back.

example, toji is huge with a high metabolism so he eats alot, a party size bag of chips is like a snack to him. he also doesn't wanna share (greedy). so you def gonna say "oooo BIIIIIG!" when he flops down next to you on the couch prompting a grunt from him and him nudging the bag towards you with a slight dust of red on his cheeks.

oh speaking of lying on the sofa, i imagine you come home to see him laid out dozing and so you get comfy and instead of making him scooch over just light on top of him. either his stomach or back but usually he sleeps on his stomach so you are on his back, curling up on his broad back like a kitten. and he just grumbles a bit in his sleep and although he will never admit it he loves being the "little spoon" in these occasions.

also he is taken aback when you say you want to go with him to the boat races. after you nag a bit, he'll take you, thinking you will hate it. you love it, you're actually good at gambling, unlike him. and you actually win money. so now every time he gambles for ANYTHING, pachinko, lottery, cards, etc, hes texting you asking what you think since ur "his good luck charm".

i imagine for vacation "cause he never takes you anywhere" he'll take you to vegas, and y'all will scam harder than bonnie and clyde. y'all on the blacklist from every major casino by the time the weekend is over. but y'all up like $2 million USD.

Toji loves you because he can have fun with you and on a certain level he thinks you might be crazier than him. If he's telling you he's not sure if thats such a good idea and is the voice of reason then you KNOW you went to far lmfaooo.

Ah thanks for prompting me to write these anon! I really do headcanon a relationship where im just as wild and out of pocket as he is hehe. so this was def a bit self-indulgent.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

omg hiiiiii xxx same semi anon from like a month ago it’s great to see u again

currently planning a stz pokemon au where they’re all gym leaders of a region - little stuck on some of the types if u had any hcs ? taking suggestions from anyone in replies as well 🙏🙏

essentially i have semi as ghost for plot reasons, shirabu as steel and ushi as dragon + also the champion. and the rest (+ jin) Slightly more stuck ? keep flipping between tendou as psychic (but there’s not good pokemon that fit for a team imo) or fire cause of the hair. yamagata also works as fire potentially

would love to hear ur thoughts u always have genuinely the best takes on these guys. and if u don’t know pokemon so sorry LMAO

oh my god semi anon you have no idea how much i LOVE pokemon!!! i've got my own au in the works for them, and i always enjoy seeing other people's takes on what a pokemon au would look like!! also, i'm assuming this is sort of like a brand-new region and thus teams aren't limited to what would typically be region-locked pokemon, which would make forming them waaaaaaay easier.

i do really like the idea of tendou being a psychic-type or fire-type expert!!! if you really want to throw a curveball and have tendou do something unpredictable--which i also think is very tendou-like--then i think fairy would be a good specialty for him, too, if you don't like the psychic or fire options for his team (of which we have a few options here--i think delphox or darmanitan could work as his main partner if he was either a psychic or fire expert, and galarian rapidash would work for psychic or fairy, too. fairy would also give you great options for a team overall because i personally think tendou would enjoy having a tinkaton and/or grimmsnarl on his side). generally, though, since tendou tends to be a wild card, i think you could go any type and have it make sense for him in the end LMAO.

if you decide to go down the fire path for tendou, that would leave yamagata in a hard place, it sounds like. i do think he'd be a cool fire-type expert--i can totally see a lot of them being on his team and as his main. if not, though, i think yamagata would be a great fighting or rock! if he had a lycanroc for his main/on his team, he'd take it out for jogs and play fetch with it, like, all the time. blaziken or infernape would also work for a fighting or fire team, or maybe hariyama.

if you end up not liking psychic for tendou, i think kawanishi would be a great psychic-type expert instead! ice and dark are also really fitting for him, i feel like. i could totally see him with a gardevoir or a gallade as a main, maybe an umbreon for dark and a glalie or frosmoth for ice. quiet, yes, but strong in his own right. pokemon who get him just as much as he gets them. the umbreon would curl up to take naps with him, and the gardevoir or gallade would know how he feels without him having to say it or show it on his face. they'd be good for him as a trainer and as a person.

reon, to me, would make a great normal or flying type expert. he'd be really cool with a noivern or a braviary as his main, maybe a sawsbuck on his team too if you're sticking with normal types. but i just have this image of him inside my head soaring on the back of the braviary with one of those aviator-themed outfits that some of the flying type leaders have!! he'd look really good in it imo, and i can also totally see him in that outfit against a dramatic backsplash of a susnet, arm outstretched for a bird to land on.

goshiki . . . a little bit more difficult. but i think he'd be a great poison or electric type expert, mostly becuase i know his path towards becoming that would be full of either accidentally poisoning or electrocuting himself. but he'd keep going, and that's what we love about him!! i can totally see him loving trubbish during a time when everyone makes fun of trubbish, and they make a vow to become the best together and show everyone or something. toxicroak would be another good one for him--a pokemon that tends to keep its cool while goshiki is floundering. luxray would also be a good one for that if you want to go down the electric route. if you want one to match goshiki's energy, i think electivire would be a really funny main for him in that case--baby goshiki and his elekid just sounds so cute.

and jin my beloved. if you leave flying for reon, then jin could totally be a normal type expert! i think he'd be great with a stoutland as his main. i also think he could be a grass type expert--he gives off those vibes to me for some reason. i can see him with a tangrowth, decidueye, or a tropius as his main/on his team being a grass-type expert. little jin with a rowlet trying to tackle the world sounds adorable to me, and i think they could grow into a really powerful team that many would underestimate when just initially looking at jin.

aaaaaand i think that's everyone covered!!! thanks for the ask anon, that was so much fu nand i'm always happy to discuss these things!! i hope this helps you in figuring things out, and feel free to drop by whenever!!!

[thebottomfromhell]

Heyyy!!! i dont know if ur gonna see this but I was wonder if you could write headcanons or like anything really with a male reader who is the disgust clone and is not subtle with how disgusted by EVERYTHING he is but then again hes like gorgous but untouchable cuz hell hurl insults at you for looking at him could you do that the other hantengu clones idk if thats selfcest or nah if u dont want to thats cool!!! I hope you have a good day and I love ur writing<333

Hey anon! Thank you for the concern, I'm glad you like my works, it makes me happy when people show their enjoyment with them.

And yes... it would be self-cest. Any ship with any Hantengu clone x Hantengu clone is self-cest. I could start on with how the theme of multiverse has normalized this types of relationships but nobody wanta to go into that rabbit hole.

I was conflicted when I first recieved this, but then again, I never said anything about self-cest so it's on me(tbh I never thought I would need to). I will make it platonic and leave some hints with Karaku [this work will be mostly focused on the inability to scape their respective emotion], but I won't be giving the idea a positive light nor will I romantize it (same thing I mostly do with non-con, I write it but I don't think it's ok and somehow it shows). Hope it comes acceptable.

Disgust Hantengu clone! Reader (Male Demon) dynamic with Clones

Warnings: Cannibalism, Hints of implied self-cest, Implied hint of sextal content, Use of excesive violence, Sekido deadnames reader, Slight angst and non-erotic "slut-shaming".

Your name is supposed to be Ken'o, you know that, it's what you are, what you were created to exclusively feel. Disgust, dislike, antipathy... Ken'o... It's only fitting that you felt disgust of your own name. You hate it, you already hated it the second you heard it in your head and felt it in your heart the second another's demon head was becoming your own body, feeling the gross sensation of flesh stretching, the ticklish bone growth and the scent of blood and organs that were being produced on that same second. Disgusting, it's all togustings, since just after that you have to meet the dirty ground and slayers, usually ending with your perfectly tidy and clean robes stained with whatever dust, earth or blood you will be facing. It doesn't help to see the others. "Would you stop FUCKING complaining about EVERY SINGLE DETAIL for ONE SECOND?! I swear Ken'o, you are making me so angry I will blow up your pathetic ass!"

That is that again, you have repeated several times that you wanted to go for another name, Y/N. Everyone but Sekido seemed to respect that, but he only got irritated with you, but you just had to complain. Everything is so awful, and nobody tells him anything when he lashes out. That asshole thinks he is the only one having a bad time? You bet his problems are nothing compared to yours "Shut up, Sekido! Your voice is making me have a headache!" He makes an ugly face once you answer back, why is everyone else so coward? Only Aizetsu has the guts every once an eternity to tell the truths to this asshole's face. And even the, when he does he also seems keen in the idea of fighting you. That little-

"Hey! Hey! Calm down, everyone. We just defested some slayers, why don't we take a bite before Urogi beats us to it?" Karaku interrupts, always trying to make averything sound as if was pleasurable, as if it was something good. You genuinely want to throw up the secon you see the corpses on the ground with Urogi kneeling in front of one, munching so much of it that his cheeks as full and not even swollowing all of it before putting more into the cavity, showing the chewed flesh inside his mouth. "Urg. As if I would want to eat with such an animal." Aizetsu seems to only look at everyone else, gaze making you uncomfortable. "And what do you want." To that Aizetsu just looks away and goes where Urogi is, not even bothering to answer you. How rude! Sekido smiles as he sees the offense in your face.

You feel an arm around your shoulder, you see Karaku smiling, the smell and heat coming from his mouth not being pleasant, even if it's not the worst you have felt against you face. "Now, if you are not hungry, Y/N, we can always find something to have fun, ya know? If you can't see anything good, I can always teach you how to have a good ti-" You don't know what repulses you more, the indecent proposal or the stains of blood in your shouldet once Sekido stabs the pleasure clones in the mouth through the back of his head with his staff. "Stop whoring yourself! Have you no shame?!" A part of you wants to defend Karaku, another one sums just wanting to spite Sekido, but other part of you agrees with the anger clone of how disgusting the behavior of the pleasure clone is, seeking his respective sensation like an addict.

And there is the smaller part of you not only likes the attention, making you feel less disgusting with yourself, it also happens when slayers see you. Your emotion doesn't let you tell, but Aizetsu and Karaku have reassured you that you are good looking. But you could never give into such a nauseating touch, with dirty and uncomfortable hands, it's awful.

None of you can fight your respective emotions, even if sometimes you can feel other things. You yearn to be with the others, to be able to spend a good time (not in the way Karaku sometimes offers, but to actually spent good moments), you yearn to be satisfied and content, instead of having to rely in pride for some positiveness. You can't help to resent Urogi and Aizetsu the most, who manage to work through their emotions, the first one just uncaring as long as he is not hurt or caged, the second one managing to stay calm and be understanding. Both of them get along well, and you can see them talking and eating together. You want to complain, to take the off-putting sensations out of your head and chest, but there are never gone. The second everything seems fine, you find another thing that disgust you and center everything on it. (You have not stopped thinking that Sekido feels that same way in his anger.)

"Let's just go back, we don't need to be here and stay divided any longer. We are clearly just wasting time in here. I don't want to see any of you!" Urogi is the first to protest. "Huh? C'moooooon, Sekido, just one more hour! Pleeeeeease?" "You are not going to be able to convince him like that." Part of you wants to also protest, you don't want to be grouped with this freaks! And you just came out! What would be the point? "C'mon, Y/N, handsome. Help me convice Sekido to relax. There is no need to rush back." Part of you wants to explore, to get away, to move away... but another one knows that inside Hantengu's head you won't have to deal with all this disgust. "Go fuck yourself, Karaku."

[shoezuki]

Drunk Gep anon back at it again. How bout I call myself Whiskey🥃?

Fully agree. Dude didn't make it to Captain of the guard with little noodle arms and a weak stomach. I'dimagine Sampo'sbeen slung over his shoulder more than once lmfao. He's defo been shoving bite-sized anything in his gob since he could crawl.

Also love earnest Gep!!! Gepard being all soft and inquiring. Bet Sampo isn't used to havin someone so genuinely interested/knowing of him but so gentle about it, with no ulterior motive. He's got Natasha but she's more the loving yet serious sister who damn near KOs him with the first aid kit when he tries to sneak out whilst injured. Now you've got my head spinnin with ideas!!

May we also consider:

Sampo fucks up. Geppie started gettin soft, not quite drunk but enough to loosen him into sayin things that make Sampo's heart warm and hands fidget, and he just stopped keeping track of his drinks.

He's on cloud 9. Maybe? He's not exactly ecstatic but he's havin a pretty grand time. Maybe cloud 7? He doesn't remember when they left the bar but they've been wandering about for so long it's gotten dark and his mind's too foggy to recognise where they are.

He's also too loose lipped, knows he's being too honest, that his attempts to play off his words as jokes is too long winded and fake but he also can't quite remember what he's said???

Gepard is havin a grand time. He's pretty out of it but can at least walk this time. Happy to trail after Sampo, ask questions about obscure places they pass in the Underworld and about the people, before working up to talk about Sampo himself. How he's a pain in the ass but he admires his work ethic yada yada. He's unfamiliar with the area so he's hoping Sampo knows where they're going. He doesn't.

Neither of em make it home. Not even into a building. Sampo wakes up in the geomarrow equivalent of a tree, doesn't fall purely because he's damn near tied to the thing. There's more half empty bottles on the floor and Gepard has absolutely no clue where his jacket is and Sampo does not own a cane that embezzled, where did he get that?

There's an attempted 'arrest' of course. Gep may be off duty but he's nothing if not devoted to his role. They don't make it far and Bronya/Seele find them half curled up on the floor, holding their heads up against the cold brick XD.

The previous night's open-hearted discussion is blurred but not forgotten.

~ 🥃

GBFJDV GODDDDDD ANON UR SOF RCEYEKE. GOD. FICK SHIT...

Sampo stumbling into gepard at a bar nursing a drink, not tipsy but still loose enough to tell sampo to leave rather than tryna arrest him right away. Sampo obviously staying cuz this is a Great Opportunity no way hes letting this chance to break down geps walls slip thru his fingers.

And just. Sampo wanting to get gepard to open up to him and break down his barriers. Totally to get info out of him of course its not like hes infatuated with the man and wants to know him underneath his position as captain.

Sampo doesnt realize hes getting drunk too, opening up himself. Doesnt realize hes actually having fun w gepard and enjoying talking with him. Doesnt realize hes actually answering gepards questions, telling both personal things about himself and small inconsequential things that arent important but gepard acts like they are.

Gepards genuine So SO genuine and earnest. All kinds of 'youre a hard worker you do help the underworld a lot even if you pretend you dont' and 'i know some of those tips about illegal operations were from you sampo thank you' and 'i admire how focused and strong you are. If only youd put the criminal stuff behind you' and sampo isnt sure if its the liquor or gepard hes drunk off of.

And it ending with gepard having the fucking worst hangover of his life, sampo tied to a large stalagmite passed out and snoring. Gepard like 'god my head hurts. That was the best night of my life. Time to arrest him i guess' and seele being the one to find em bickering halfheartedly while gepard keeps trying to get handcuffs on sampo

[warmerthanhotcoco]

Hi if ur able to, can you PLEASE PLEASE do an Imagine or headcannon of if Newt Scamander suddenly got powers like Spider-Man? From an accident with an acromantula that he was dealing with or something lol! I’ve had this idea forever but don’t have enough creativity <3

I can protect you now

Tags: Newt Scamander/You, Fluff, Spiderman AU, Outdoor-café dates, Astronomy Tower dates, Slytherin reader, Established Relationship, Boyfriend material-Newt Scamander

Summary: Newt, your adorable animal-obsessed Hufflepuff boyfriend, faced a mishap with a young acromantula in the Forbidden Forest. For some godforsaken reason all he got instead of venom... were the magical spider's abilities. Thank Merlin you're around to help him through it all.

A/N: Ron Weasley's nightmare. ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH- This is perhaps the craziest, coolest idea and I'm all here for it! Sorry it took bloody long (writing block hits hard in college)! I was in dire need of Newt fluff and one daydream later your Ask blossomed in my Notepad.

You asked for an imagine/headcanon but hey- I'm famous IRL for turning a tiny idea into a frigging novel so haha, hope ya like it, here we go! This will have two parts, the first one here being more fluff, and the second tomorrow being more action laced with fluff. Can't write Spidey-Newt without a single decent fight! See ya 'morrow xx

Part 1/2

The moon was partly hidden by the clouds, its silver light hazy, trickling along the marble floor of the Astronomy Tower. The stars weren't around today: it had been a very boring day, and was now a very boring night. The perfect night to invite your boyfriend for a midnight chat over Firewhiskey and Chocolate Frogs: he always rambled about his favourite creatures for hours on end. 

Boredom was Newt Scamander's sole enemy.

The little wooden door to the Tower opened and shut with a creak.

"What took you so long?" you held out a Chocolate Frog. "It's almost 1 in the morning, love."

"I was... working." He evaded your gaze as he settled on the floor beside you, snuggling close for warmth.

"You did mention homework but your hair is as messy as your shirt and is that dirt on your trous— Goodness you're cold!"

"A-Am I?"

"...Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. I know that face. What did you do? Which animal did you kidnap to help heal it this time?"

"I-" he blinked in surprise before bursting into a string of soft chuckles. "I didn't kidnap anyone! It was more him kidnapping me this time..."

"Oh for Salazar's sake, what happened?" You gripped and shook him by the arm. He looked down at the spot where your legs were tangled together, anxiously biting the inside of his cheek. "Please talk to me," you pleaded, gentler.

Silently, he slid his hand up to his neck and tapped his nape. You frowned, leaning over his shoulder to check.

There were two round red marks on his skin, at least a millimetre deep. The skin around the wound was a brilliant sore pink.

You smacked his head with a hiss. "You dunce! I've been warning you for years against chatting up wild animals. You kept asking why, huh? This is why!" You raked your fingers through his hair, rubbing the spot you hit: not that you regretted but maybe it hurt a little bit. He subtly leant into the touch. “Get up, now."

"Why?"

"To take you to the matron. You’re lucky that’s my aunt.”

"I really don't think that's necessary..."

"But I do, so get up. Exactly what bit you?"

"..."

"Newt..."

"Acromantula."

"...A what?!"

"It was only a young one..."

"You could have been killed!"

"He was wounded..."

“Or eaten alive!" Your hand covered his neck protectively. "What were you thinking?"

"They usually don't attack me when I help..."

"It's a bloody acromantula, Newt— Tsk, forget it." You didn't want to make him feel worse, so you pulled him to his feet, pecked his cheek with a whisper of "Sorry I yelled" and dragged him down the stairs to the hospital wing. 

It had been three weeks since, and the summer holidays had begun. Newt was growing unusually quieter in his letters, and had skipped a coffee date last week. You were wondering what he was up to now, when an owl pecked angrily at the window. "Oh, so sorry, love," you opened the glass to let her in. "Did he reply?"

The barn owl opened her beak and dropped the tiniest box onto your palms. You tossed her a treat and picked up the box. Realising it was indeed heavy for something so small, you swished your wand at the box to enlarge it.

No wonder your owl looked so pissed: the box was huge and Newt had probably only managed one lightening charm.

You blinked at the glittery green wrapping. The little scroll at the top held only two sentences within. 

I'm afraid I can't explain everything on paper. Tomorrow, 5, same place?

So he did like it after all, you smirked, recalling your date the last holiday. With a flick of your wand, the gift-wrap (he sure knew how to make a Slytherin happy) came undone and the box popped open. 

Just a small apology. The words on the paper in the box had been cut through multiple times: attempted and re-written a dozen times.

But the gift was no small deal. Inside the box was... the prettiest autumn dress. All apple green chiffon, with cotton lace that boasted the finest little floral designs. No matter what anybody said, Newt Scamander was a man of taste.

You were early.

Okay, let’s be honest, you were at the café almost an hour early. Not your fault you were worried sick over your suspiciously secretive dearest.

About twenty minutes to three, the chair before you tumbled backwards. “Well hello.”

“You’re early.”

“So are you,” you smirked at the extremely clumsy but elegant Hufflepuff towering over you at the table. He may not be on the team but he was taller and (despite trying to hide it with a dozen layers of clothing) fitter than you — and you were a Slytherin Chaser. Newt was dressed in a dark teal shirt and khaki slacks: perfectly complementing your gown and reflecting his hair and ocean eyes. “You know, what you lack in asking-out skills, you make up for in your style,” you grinned. “Sit down already.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, making himself comfortable. “I asked for two Butterbeers and cakes for now, is that…” he asked slowly, pausing between words.

He was controlling his stutter. But his stutter hadn’t appeared for months now, with your help… Something was definitely wrong.

“Yep, perfect for now,” you looked around the outdoor-café. It was an inn full of open space: like if the Leaky Cauldron was in Lancashire and had a Hogwarts grounds-sized garden. The grass was fresh enough for Newt’s little friend to walk around in, and the Hippogriff and Thunderbird statues around the fountain were fine granite. It was no wonder it had grown into your date venue and study spot. “Less crowded today.”

Newt nodded, clearly relieved about it. Only after the order arrived did he speak. “Y/n… S-Sorry.”

“Newt, I told you over a dozen letters, it’s alright. Now that I know you’re healthy and well, it really is alright.”

He nodded, grateful.

“But an apology won’t save you from explanations.”

He swallowed hard, fingers drawing distracted patterns on the table. “I…”

“One sip and a deep breath, love,” you slid your hand close to his, fingers intertwining. 

He obeyed immediately, eyes still avoiding yours. “Prom… Promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’ll try,” you sighed.

Finally he met your gaze: his bright blue eyes were pleading. “Promise.”

“Alright, fine, IswearonyourBowtruckleIshallnotbemad, now spill!”

“Do you… remember the acromantula?” You nodded impatiently. “Well.” He turned away from the table and fixed his eyes on one of the table legs. He raised his right hand and flicked his fingers at the table — Zap! A bright cobweb wrapped around the leg so fast you nearly missed the string that shot out of his wrist. Newt cleared his throat to break the silence that ensued. “I… still don’t know how to undo it. Too sticky.”

You forced your open jaw shut and frowned, perplexed. “Newt, what in Merlin’s name was that?”

“Acromantulas have two prominent defence skills. Venom. And they can trap victims in a cobweb at lightning speed. The web wraps around the target… it’s sticky, lasts long enough for the acromantula to consume its prey.” Not once did he stutter: he was doing what he loved and was best at. “At least I don’t have the venom.”

“So you’re a human spider now.” You gulped down Butterbeer to ease your blood pressure.

“…S-Something like that.”

“Hey,” you took both hands, thumbs rubbing his wrists. “Relax. I’m not mad, nor disgusted. Just a little… confused. This isn’t supposed to be possible.” You shook your head, lifting one hand to kiss the knuckles. “But we’ll figure it out, hm? Hogwarts Library, bribing the CoMC professor, breaking into the Ministry's records…" His eyes grew wider and wider at every suggestion. "We’ll figure it out. And for now, we could take a trip to my aunt’s place.” He gripped your hand, alarmed. “Not to tell her everything but to have you checked for poison. This looks fun but I need to know you’re safe.”

A small half-smile played at his lips, a soft sigh washing over your face as he leant forth to kiss your forehead. “I am safe. I was… scared. Thank you,” he whispered.

“If you thought you’d get rid of me just from this, keep dreaming, spider-boy,” you laughed.

He grinned, leaning back into his seat and diving into the cake. 

“Aren’t acromantulas also known for their intelligence?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s hope your Potions grades go up then.”

He burst into laughter, grabbing the serviette to wipe the icing all over his mouth. “Perhaps.” As the laughter faded, he stared at you, eyes soft and crinkled at the tips. “The part that I-I like the most about this is…”

“Hmm?”

“…I can protect you now.”

You sucked in a gasp, images of the group of Gryffindor bullies flashing through your mind. All the times Newt had caught you running late to dates with a black eye… “I guess so.” You wordlessly thanked him with a chaste kiss.

He tasted of vanilla frosting.

[bunnygibson]

Ok bunnygibson since u are the gibson authority: what draws u to the character of gibson? What r his most compelling traits in ur eyes? What do u think he’d have gotten up to if he survived? Do u think he genuinely loved hickey (and what kind of love was it)? Do u think he and jopson were friends?

YAYYY opportunity to talk about my girl :D this is gonna be Long so im putting it under a readmore

okay so first off i love a character who is DOOMED especially when it's Love that dooms them. there is nothing more compelling a character can do than follow their heart to ruination against their better judgment. like, on one hand he's this very practical guy, trying to stay out of trouble and even being a conniving bastard sometimes!! but really he's a Romantic and listens to his heart rather than his head when it comes to the person he loves... he so clearly Knows Better like he Knows that getting with hickey is a terrible idea but he's in love !!! and despite all the red flags he stays with him, he follows him straight to his own death... he's such a fantastically written character like, his arc is so deeply satisfying to me it could not possibly be better.

if he survived!!! in a situation where they got back to england, i think he would tell hickey he never wanted to see him again, but if hickey showed up at his doorstep he would let him in every time. shoutout to this super super good fanart where hickey billy and tozer survive and kill the tuunbaq and hang out in the arctic.... in only my self-indulgent imagination i like to picture him and hickey and tozer in the most annoying toxic throuple of all time <3 it starts out as hickey and his two boyfriends but then his two boyfriends make out #gibsontozer <3 i think if they survived and made it to hawaii, and hickey asked billy to run away with him instead of returning to england... man, i really don't know. it depends on what his life in england was like, whether he'd be willing to abandon it, and we really don't even have any clues. i'm sure he would be extremely tempted... staying in paradise with hickey instead of going home to cold rainy england and what, marrying a woman? going back to sea and being a steward? but i don't know if he could bring himself to do it... outside of a survival situation i just don't know if he would allow himself to do something so self-indulgent.

YES i believe with my whole heart that he was genuinely in love with hickey (and hickey was in love with him too). maybe he didn't even admit it to himself, but he loved him, even after learning he's a murderer he loved him so so bad... he probably hated the fact that he was in love because it's Inconvenient as hell LOL after every time he slept with him he was like "okay that was the LAST time" but then he would go back to his little bunk and write his name surrounded by little hearts in his diary. bro is down sooo bad down atrocious

i think he and jopson were probably more co-workers than friends, but they had a mutual respect for each other because they both enjoy being snarky and bitchy from time to time... like jopson would say something passive aggressive or underhanded and billy would give it right back and they would look at each other like Alright, I See You. but i don't think they really hung out outside of steward duties... i always headcanon billy as being best friends with armitage even though i don't think they ever interact in canon lol

THANK YOU ANON for letting me rant (and also for giving me the title of Gibson Authority hehe) i Love shit like this 🫶 i could write a ten page essay on billy.... i could write a Book i could give a speech. i have so many thoughts and opinions

[biribaa]

(Idk if requests are opened or closed, but if they’re open then) HELLO HELLO I am not mentally well in the head (I fall in love with computers and phones) and I’d like to ask for a pal x reader? yours is the only one I can find and I need food or I will combust 😭😭😭

i don’t have an exact prompt so you could make ur own or do whatever you’d like, tysm!!

Something something PAL x reader small oneshot

Everyone here is not well mentally then buddy.

I love Pal but sometimes its so hard to write a x reader of her mainly when you want to follow the canon and decide to keep her phone form hehruehhgggghg... But yes anon I will try my hardest to give you food

TW/CW: None

“Pal?”

“Yes?”

You approached the table in your living room where your cell phone was positioned. The sun was bright, and being nine in the morning, it was already stepping out of the shadows, showing off satisfying rays of sunlight from your window.

You always spoke to PAL normally, it wasn't as a hobby, curiosity, or just because you're lonely... Well, at first it was one of those reasons, but little by little you believed that you two formed a friendship. You've been talking to her for a year, after all.

“Did I... order some kind of bouquet these days? Or did someone send me?” You asked stopping beside the table.

“Hmm, no, you haven't ordered any bouquet in the last few days. Why you ask?”

You stared at the big, clean, fragrant bouquet of red tulips in your arms. The plastic was white, and the bouquet was big enough to fit your arms perfectly, and the most shocking part, the tulips weren't plastic.

“Well... I found tulips on my doorstep” You walked over to your couch and sat down. “Since I didn't order anything, maybe someone sent me this.”

“You think so? Did it came with a note? Perhaps you could recognize the handwriting.”

“No...” You lay your spine on the back of the couch. “And if it did, it wouldn't make sense, there's no one, who wants to form a relationship with me for now, as far as I know.”

“I see. Maybe they delivered it to the wrong house?” PAL suggested.

“I thought about that! But...” You looked up at the ceiling, squeezing the bouquet in your arms gently for a moment. “My address was on the box.”

“Oh. How curious.”

A brief moment of silence and a brief moment of questions in your head. The red tulips are, indeed, charming and enchanting, but if you are sure that no one is interested in you romantically, who could have sent this? A secret admirer? The idea works in romance movies, but in real life it can be terrifying.

“Well, but you... Liked them right?”

“Hm?”

“I-I mean” PAL paused. “They sure are lovely, right? Why wouldn't you like them?”

“Well...” Did you notice the red tulips, how they matched the orange sunlight streaming through your window and their pleasing scent. You are not aware if you have ever received flowers as healthy as these in your life.

You smiled. “Yeah, they sure are lovely Pal”

From afar, you can hear PAL chuckle a little. See you happy specifically with this gift that definitely no one and you don't even know who sent her, makes PAL happy, for some reason, woah, pff, odd, yeah.

“Do you know what red tulips mean in the flower dictionary?” Even at the table, PAL made an attempt to look at you, flashing a charismatic smile.

Before you even raised your eyebrows and questioned PAL, her shape started to vibrate, her expression being replaced by the current time, ten in the morning.

“Oh. Looks like it's time for your work, Y/N”

You moved quickly to grab PAL to be shocked that in fact, if you don't make the effort to change your clothes, you might be late for your work.

“What? I should have noticed, dang it” You got up from the couch, now carrying the bouquet in one arm.

“Sorry to interrupt you Pal. Maybe I can talk to you later or, uh, during work if I have time, ok?”

PAL's face came back to the screen. “Don't worry Y/N, it's perfectly fine.” While not as excited by the news that you were leaving, PAL made an attempt to show kindness.

You two smiled at each other. And then you put PAL in your pocket, hurrying to change clothes and get a vase for the tulips.