#6 on one and 6 on the other seems fair

[the-trans-dragon]

I need a doctor who has the patience, experience, humor, and directness to listen to whatever new treatment ideas I've concocted, and then either say "Alex, that's a stupid fucking idea, let me explain why," or "The risks are acceptable in my professional opinion. Let's go over pros and cons and then you can think about it and decide what to do."

I just think it would be fun. For me. And I wish I could find a doctor who would also find that fun. I already came up with one fun Treatment for an Illness and have been successfully using it to treat The Illness for almost a YEAR, and all the side effects are awesome so like...I am certainly full of hubris at this point.

[queercatboyrights]

anyone got any tips on getting art industry jobs w/o a college degree bc holy fuck this shit is horrendous /oAo;\

[brazilian-vampyra]

♱ NEEDING SOME LOVE? ｡ﾟ ♡

(english)

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ synopsis: you are a succubus and offers affection after jjk men pass or are in stressful situations.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ characters: ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, nanami kento.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ warnings: strong language, rough sex, unprotected sex, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, oral (both receiving), fem!dom, male!dom, creampie, nipple play, teasing, love bites, needy behavior.

⭑ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄 was tired. He was hella tired.

Some time ago, Kento decided to give up his life as an office worker and put into practice everything he had learned at Jujutsu High. Enduring Gojo Satoru shouting in his ear like he did in high school was the worst of the problems, the big "x" of the issue now was dealing with the curses that arrived in the city.

Sukuna's return seemed to have brought a streak of bad luck to everyone else, and it stressed him, God, how it stressed him.

He had fought against a curse called "Mahito". He was all patched up, had blue hair, was tough and very ironic, the kind that brags about their deplorable exploits. His stupid actions meant that Nanami had to spend more time at work, as he was going to finish his shift at 6 p.m., but Mahito was persistent and stupid, forcing him to work overtime.

He left office life so he could stop working like a convict, and now he was forced to work overtime because of this stupid curse?

It's incredibly disrespectful.

He arrived at the apartment tired, just thinking about taking a relaxing shower and sleeping. Maybe this vacation to Malaysia should be brought forward.

He unlocked the main door and when he entered, he turned on the orange lamp next to it, casting dim light across the room. He was already loosening his tie and muttering some swear words when he came across a peculiar figure on the sofa. You were lying on your side, resting your face in your hand, looking at him with a mischievous smile and slightly shaking your tail.

The tail, as well as the horns and wings were part of your real form, but you made them disappear to be more comfortable sometimes.

━━ What are you doing in my house? — the blonde questioned, without paying much attention to you.

━━ You know how it is, no big deal... — you slid onto the couch. ━━ Just checking if my favorite blonde is okay...

━━ I am very well.

You giggled indiscreetly.

━━ You seem stressed to me...

━━ I can ease my stress on my own, I don't need another curse bothering me today.

You got up from the couch, walking over to him with a hand on your chest, pretending to be offended.

━━ Aww, too bad. I'm not a curse, you know this... — you said, making your most fantasy features disappear, looking like a normal human. ━━ Are you going to treat me like that night was nothing?

He grunted, taking off his tie to make himself more comfortable.

━━ It was a dream. A fucking dream.

━━ It wasn't a dream... — you teased. ━━ But I agree with you on the fucking part. Wow, we fucked so much!

You kept remembering about it, with a mischievous smile on your lips.

━━ What did you come for, you devil? Feed? If so, I'm tired, I don't have any energy to give you.

Well, that's the truth. Succubus feeds on a person's vital energy through sex.

━━ Do I look evil, Kento? I'm here to take care of you. You let me feed myself, I think it's fair that I take care of you.

You took a hand to the blonde's defined jaw and slid your fingers over his skin, watching as he shivered.

━━ You'll see... I can wash your hair... — you took one of his hands and brought it to your face, so he could feel your warm cheek. ━━ Kiss your pretty lips and we can explore each other's bodies, so you will sleep very happy afterwards. Don't you think you need some love?

His mischievous smile was a beautiful invitation. And the blonde gave in to the temptation and desire you emanated. You calmly convinced him, and now you were in the bathroom, in the shower, moaning and feeling the warm water slide over your skin. Nanami's strong body hugged yours from behind, while his hands were covered in liquid soap with passion fruit and chamomile essences.

His huge hands slid over your wet skin and went to your breasts, playing with your nipples between his index and middle fingers; giving you an awesome stimulation.

You could feel his hips grinding against your ass and his cock slides through your tight insides, giving you as much pleasure as you were giving him. The blonde's deep moans were close to your ear, making you bite your lower lip. Your hands were on the blue tiled wall, providing you with some support as he delighted in your body.

━━ I told you... you would be happier- ugh, fuck...

━━ I think you're right, I can't resist that fucking pussy... — he kissed your shoulder. ━━ Goddamn, if these curses keep stressing me out I'm going to need you every week...

━━ I'll always be here for you, darling... — you smiled, biting your bottom lip and brought a hand up to his wet blonde hair, while his lips were on your shoulder, tasting your wet skin. ━━ Every time you need... to give you the sweetest dreams ever.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 can be irritated and stressed, like ordinary people. With Sukuna's return, there were other curses with Kenjaku causing problems, such as a stranger called Jogo. They didn't seem like a big problem, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was certainly something that would irritate him and require more strength and patience.

He had to balance this with his teaching duties and training the host of the king of curses, Yuji Itadori.

Sometimes Satoru fantasizes about what his life would be like without the responsibility of being a special grade sorcerer. Maybe he could be like most who don't have to worry about literally being humanity's last hope if the curses ever want to claim dominance again.

He had lost his best friend a few years ago, and it still hurt him. He had to take care of Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, as well as put up with hearing shit from other elitist sorcerers.

All of this made Satoru frustrated.

This caused erotic dreams to happen with a certain frequency, and the figure that satisfied him was you, a succubus. You're wrong if you think that your relationship with the most powerful sorcerer was just sex, nothing like that, you also talked a few times, flirted and even saw each other in real life.

At that point, you could already consider each other very close.

Now he had arrived home and removed the bandage that covered his vibrant blue eyes.

━━ I know you are here, sweetie.

He hadn't turned on any lights yet, but then you emerged from the shadows when he turned on the yellow lights in the living room. The lights were in a weaker tone, precisely so that he could be more relaxed and rest, providing a cozy atmosphere.

You were wearing a button-down shirt he had. A long-sleeved white shirt that had a few buttons lazily closed. Your thighs were bare, your smooth skin perfectly visible and your seductive scent carried far and wide. Your horns were not visible, nor were your wings or tail.

He went feral just by seeing this.

━━ I can see in those pretty eyes how tired you are... — you walked closer to him, hugging his neck affectionately. ━━ Wanna tell me what happened?

A muffled laugh echoed between you, a laugh coming from him before he slid his tongue across his lower lip gently.

━━ It's amazing how you always come up with the right words, and that lovely voice... — he wrapped his arms around your waist. ━━ It doesn't even feel like you're here with the purpose of sucking me dry.

You laughed at the audacity of the perfect white-haired sorcerer's words.

━━ Do you think I'm a mercenary who only cares about your life energy, Satoru? What we have is special... — you looked at him with your best puppy eyes.

He smiled happily upon hearing this.

━━ Don't you think you're needing some love, handsome?

You looked at him with your pink eyes, like a shining gemstone. Glowing with lust.

Gojo's response was his lips immediately being pressed against yours. His warm tongue slid against yours, allowing you to taste the mint gum he had been chewing all day. His hands held and squeezed your waist, making you moan against his lips, and he bit your lower lip lightly.

When you realized, you were on his bed. Your clothes were making a trail that led from the living room to the bedroom, and your bodies were sweaty on the sheets. You were on your side, with your head on the pillow, feeling one of Satoru's hands squeezing your breasts while the other held your thigh, slightly raised so that he could thrust his hips with precision against you.

The blue-eyed man bit your neck a little between kisses, probably leaving your skin marked, but he liked it. He liked to have the feeling that you were his.

━━ This pussy calms me down in a way... — he moaned, never stopping moving his hips against you, making the sound of your bodies echo throughout the room. ━━ It's like it was made for me...

━━ Take it easy, love... — you gripped the sheets tightly, feeling his body against yours as your vision was clouded with pleasure. ━━ Or you'll get addicted...

━━ Fucking hell, I already am... — hearing him go crazy was priceless. ━━ I need that damn pussy sliding on my cock every night...

[...]

⭑ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 ⭑

𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 that even though it was half a curse, the human feelings of this man who was almost two hundred years old were the strongest. He — who had exhausted eyes — was lost among difficult and confused thoughts.

His current mental state lived up to his appearance. He was as worn out as his eyelids and his dark circles. The physical and mental exhaustion of the blood handler was increasingly evident, he no longer knew what to do. He had constant and massive existential crises, which made his head scream.

Being by Kenjaku's side felt right, but something in him told him that wasn't the only option he had. Halloween was coming, the coup in Shibuya was going to happen and Choso only thought about running out of there and never coming back, evaporating like water in a hot pot of rice. But on the other hand, he must avenge the death of his brothers.

Why did life have to be so difficult?

He entered the room, throwing himself on the bed and burying his face in a pillow as he sighed heavily and tried to clear his thoughts. That was when a shiver ran down his spine and he looked at an armchair next to him.

There you were, with your horns and wings and your tail, slowly swaying back and forth like a cat.

━━ Hi, baby.

You smiled and waved calmly at him.

━━ W-Who are you? What are you doing here?

━━ Oh, don't you know who I am? — You were surprised. ━━ Well, let me put on a friendlier appearance to talk to you then.

In the blink of an eye your mystical features disappeared.

━━ Better, right?

You fixed your hair softly.

━━ I'm a succubus, by the look on your face I can assume you've never met one, right?

He nodded shyly.

━━ Well, Choso... I noticed you're so stressed. So tired, so depressed... — you walked over to the bed, running your hands through his silky hair. ━━ That brought me here.

━━ Can I assume you want to kill me...?

You laughed at the man's naivety.

━━ Kill you? No, no. Why would I kill such an adorable guy like you? — he was so adorable and cute. ━━ All I need is a little bit of your life energy, and don't worry, you'll recover in time.

━━ And how do I give it to you?

━━ You'll have to cum for me.

His pale cheeks turned red like ripe strawberries.

━━ W-What!?

━━ Feeding me during sex is the best option, and the best thing is that it doesn't hurt you either... — your hot pink eyes glowed at him, in a tone of eloquent desire. ━━ Don't you think you need some love, baby?

Yes, Choso had to assume that this was the best option for him at the moment. He might have to give you some of his life energy, but at the same time he would be rewarded for it. He was a bit inexperienced, and he didn't hide it — maybe he couldn't even try to hide it.

While you were kissing, he ended up asking to taste your pussy. That was the most promiscuous and shy request a man had ever made to you, two extremes at once. He accepted, and now he was eating you out with a desire that not even an extremely experienced man had ever eaten. His eyes were closed, his hands were squeezing your thighs and his face was buried between your legs.

The desire left him intoxicated, too focused on making you feel good.

Your legs were draped over his shoulders and you held onto his beautiful dark hair, squeezing it every now and then just out of sheer will, as you let him dictate at his own pace. Kamo's tongue slid inside you and his lips worked together to make you moan more and more.

At that point he couldn't take it anymore. The noticeable erection inside his pants was making that piece of clothing tighter and tighter, and if you kept moaning like that while he tasted you, he would probably end up cumming in his boxers. It had been a long time since he had tasted pussy this sweet, and now he felt like he was being bewitched or something.

━━ Hmm... you're so sweet, hm... — he kept eating.

━━ Such a good boy, you're doing well... — looked down, seeing his lips on your soaked sex. ━━ Don't be shy, rub your face on it...

Without even blinking, he held your thighs tighter and rubbed his face against your pussy, making you moan loudly and grip his hair tighter. That was unexpected, as you didn't expect to be dealing with a man who would obey so much.

Choso Kamo is indeed a good boy.

[...]

⭑ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 was far from being a bed of roses. Unlike what is shown in movies or comics, it is a sad, strange life with a growing sense of death because at any moment there could be a sniper waiting for you. Or another hitman who was hired to kill you as personal revenge for some of your work.

It was no different for Toji, who had to kill people almost every day.

The smell of iron coming from the blood was no longer something he found strange, as it was like smelling the good smell of a disinfectant or a perfume that was pleasant. Most of his clothes were black, just so he wouldn't worry about blood stains, his house didn't have light-colored carpets, precisely so that he wouldn't have to do such intense cleaning if blood leaked through a trash bag.

He lived in an extremely simple apartment, in a suburban neighborhood where the rent was very cheap.

Perhaps if his gambling addiction hadn't consumed him, he might have been in a better situation, as he was paid very well for his services. It was no surprise, after all Toji is a professional at what he does.

Today he was hired to kill an extremely important man, and he was protected by some very experienced and strong sorcerers, that was a lot of work and Toji got hurt a little. Now he had taken a cold shower and put on black sweatpants, lying down on the double bed in that small room, lit by the orange light from the streetlight that invaded through the window.

You teleported to his bed, laying down next to him.

Upon smelling her sweet scent entering his nostrils, Fushiguro wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

━━ I was already thinking about summoning you, my little devil...

His deep voice shook your bones, reverberating on it.

━━ Missing me, my love? — you teased.

━━ Always, honey.

━━ Had a bad day?

━━ Bad as fuck, but now I have you here.

━━ I think you're needing some love, don't you agree? — you turned to him, smiling mischievously and running a hand over the scar he had on his lip.

━━ I need all the love in the world right now.

And so you started kissing. It was an intense kiss, with a lot of desire and lust as your tongues touched and he grunted against your mouth. His kiss always seemed to take the air out of you, leaving you shocked at how good he felt.

Toji Fushiguro is ridiculously good in bed.

Right now, he was reminding you why he's the best you've ever had. This man was fucking you in a deliciously sinful mating press, holding your thighs as his green eyes were locked on yours and he was thrusting his hips against you like there's no tomorrow.

Fucking looking into the eyes was something so intimate and serious that you had never done with anyone; Toji could consider himself a big important milestone in your centuries-old succubus life.

━━ So fuckin' good f'me... — he was going crazy, just like you.

It felt strangely good, feeling him thrusting while you were stuffed. This man had already come and was still hard and needy for more, so much so that some of his hot cum was dripping down your poor little hole.

━━ You're such a whore, aren't you? This pussy is dripping and you still want more...

You smiled mischievously, biting your bottom lip and looking at him.

━━ What can I do? You're irresistible...

[...]

⭑ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 was not satisfied with his concubines.

Yes, you did not read it wrong. No, that wasn't a doubt, it was an affirmation.

You, like a good succubus, had been watching him from the shadows for a while, because after all, his life seemed to be extremely interesting. Realized from the beginning that he had four concubines, all of them beautiful, with the most different bodies, different shapes. Always dressed in flashy lingerie and wearing jewelry.

But somehow, he no longer looked at them with that hunger and desire he had at first. You wonder why?

The truth is that there was no answer to this notorious question. He had probably just lost interest in them or sex in general for a while because of the problems that were plaguing him. After all, he is the king.

With this in mind, you decided to pay a visit to the lonely king.

You entered his throne room, wearing beautiful red lingerie, adorned with some rubies, which framed your curves very well. Your soft skin was completely exposed and you made a point of letting your perfume emanate far away, as well as your pheromones.

━━ Sukuna... long time no see.

You teased him, laughing softly. You never had to bow to him, he "forgave" your audacity.

━━ Little brat... can I know why are you bothering me?

━━ I came to offer you help.

━━ Help?

━━ I noticed you don't care about your concubines anymore... from afar I feel your dissatisfaction.

He laughed mischievously, in his classic way.

━━ And what did you come here for? Apply to replace one of them?

━━ Sukuna, speaking like that, it seems like you don't know me — you made a subtle gesture with your hand. ━━ I just came here to propose a deal.

━━ What type of deal?

━━ You give me some of your vital energy and I give you pleasure...

He would have said "yes" right away the way he was, but playing hard to get was part of his personality.

━━ What makes you think I would accept this deal?

You smiled mischievously and began to crawl towards him, slowly climbing the steps that led to his throne at the top. Like a cat, it crawls slowly until it reaches the ball of yarn.

━━ Oh, my king... — you knew how to play dirty. ━━ I was watching you the whole time, I can see how frustrated you are.

You rested your head on his thigh, covered by the white kimono.

━━ You're needing some love, my dear...

And he agreed to this deal the right way. You knew you would have to put up with all the brutality of the king of curses, and you were willing to do that, especially because he didn't go beyond the limits, but he really was remarkable.

The white kimono he was wearing was already open, exposing his beautiful body with the marks that were his striking feature. You were kneeling right in front of him, while he held your hair and moaned, with his eyes closed and tilting his head back. Your mouth slid over his huge cock, feeling how his precum slid over your tongue every time you played with his sensitive, pink tip.

Sukuna's moans were as profane as his dark, morbid nature.

But they were truly a pleasure to listen to, and they were so good that it was making your thin panties weat with your desire, which ran down your slits as you used your mouth on him.

━━ F-Fuck... what a good fucking slut you are... — he pulled your hair.

You gagged on his cock a few times. Which was completely acceptable since he was indeed huge.

You were still going to have a lot of fun in that room, you couldn't even imagine that you could fuck in as many positions as he was going to fuck you on that throne.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 was on the verge of going crazy.

Summer was a difficult season, as curses were everywhere and spread like plagues. In fact, the heat was so intense that it could kill the curses on its own, but he, as a sorcerer, had the obligation to act against them.

All that stress was already becoming unbearable, Suguru was already one step away from freaking out and killing everything and everyone in sight — whether it was a curse or not. He no longer cared about anything, and only thought about how complicated his life was and that maybe he wished he could have been born without this gift, so that he could do what "normal people" do.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for the man with long dark hair, you already had an eye on everything. I analyzed him from afar at various times, and thought about when would be the right time to approach him. You heard that he had been having these outbursts since Jujutsu High, now he was an adult and was still trying to control himself for not causing a giant disgrace.

Now he was on the balcony of his bedroom, it was a moonlit, starry and hot night.

His hair was tied up at the top and loose at the bottom, so he felt a little fresher. He was only wearing gray boxers and had picked up a cigarette, when he was about to light it, he noticed that he had lost the lighter.

━━ I always leave it here on the balcony table...

He muttered to himself.

━━ Looking for this?

He heard an unfamiliar female voice behind him and immediately looked to see what it was about. It was you, you were there looking at him like a predator looks at its prey, with your hot pink eyes.

━━ Don't get closer, or I-...

━━ What? Are you gonna eat me? — you teased, while holding his lighter. ━━ I mean, depending on how it goes, I accept it...

━━ Who are you?

You took the cigarette from his hand, politely asking "excuse me", and brought it to your lips, lighting it with the lighter and inhaling the smoke before bringing it to his lips. Suguru should assume that was a very sensual thing to watch, more so than he would like to admit.

You introduced yourself, saying your name to him and offering a gentle smile.

━━ Are you a curse? — he was smoking his cigarette calmly. ━━ I can feel your cursed energy.

━━ Succubus and incubus are not curses, but we have cursed energy.

━━ Then why are you here? I don't think I have anything that interests you, except my skills.

━━ I think your skills are formidable, but I don't want them, don't worry — you leaned over the balcony and took the cigarette from his lips, smoking it before giving it back. ━━ I want something else, and it can help you.

━━ I'm listening.

━━ I want to have sex with you.

Suguru almost choked on his own smoke at that moment. A creature appeared on his bedroom balcony in the middle of a summer night and suddenly said it wanted to have sex with him? That's weird.

━━ Sorry, I'm usually pretty straight to the point, haha.

━━ Can you explain? — he was recovering from his surprised cough.

━━ I feed on vital energy, and I need yours. Don't worry, I won't take everything, and you will recover pretty quickly because of your cursed energy level.

━━ What do I get from that?

━━ I have been watching you during this time, I know you are stressed and exhausted from having to deal with curses. So... I can make you feel good, really good, trust me...

━━ I won't sell myself for lust, not even if... holy shit.

While he was talking, you took off the thin t-shirt you were wearing and left your breasts exposed, leaving now only your denim mini skirt.

━━ C'mon, Suguru... don't you think you deserve some love? — you told him, in your seductive way.

The answer after that was clearly yes, and he buried the cigarette in the ashtray before kissing your lips eagerly and holding you in his arms, dragging you to the bed. Even though you had just met, it wasn't difficult for you to find the harmony between your bodies because somehow, you had the perfect fit.

You told the sorcerer that he just needed to let you ride him so he could be calm and sleep happily. He didn't think twice before accepting the proposal, and now you were there, in his lap.

Geto was lying down, with his eyes closed and moaning slyly while keeping his hands on your hips. You kept your weight on your knees, resting on the mattress as you moved your hips up and down, feeling your pussy milking his cock. His fingerprints would stay on your hot skin for a long time, you never wanted to forget this.

He looked beautiful with his hair messy like that, begging for more and being sensitive.

━━ W-What kind of black magic is this? W-What are you doing to me? — he moaned frantically. ━━ Oh my fucking God... that's so perfect...

You giggled mischievously as you continued moaning and said in your most promiscuous tone:

━━ I put a spell on you... — you brought a hand to his face, sliding it across his lower lip. ━━ Because you're mine...

[...]

۰ ࣪📂 ٬٬ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: maybe it's a random topic but i was fantasizing about it one day and decided to write :) everything was written by me, don't take it as yours or get inspired without giving credit.

[english-history-trip]

Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.

The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.

Paolo Uccello, 1456

This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10

Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up

Unknown artist, c. 1505

This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10

Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this

Raphael, 1505

We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael

Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ

The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401

We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10

Horse thoughts: Dehhhh

Book of Hours, c. 1480

Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10

Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening

Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:

Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432

I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10

Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever

Unknown artist, c. 15th century

I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack

Book of Hours, c. 1450

Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed

Book of Hours, c. 1415

This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10

Horse thoughts: ....yikes

And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road

Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad

Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.

Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.

Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.

Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.

But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.

Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.

But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?

That’s just fucked up.

But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.

He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.

It’s fine.

And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.

Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.

She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.

And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).

Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.

The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.

And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.

Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.

But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.

Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.

And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.

It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.

Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.

Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.

The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.

Steve knew about the Munsons. Well— he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.

He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.

And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.

But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.

He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.

But he did it.

And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.

Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.

And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.

And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—

It’s not a good night.

But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.

Because what about Louie?

Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.

Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—

But Hoppers dead.

So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.

He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.

His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.

Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.

The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.

Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.

The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.

“You Harrington?”

Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.

They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.

Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.

Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.

Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.

“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”

Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.

Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.

They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.

And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.

.

First Part:

[suzannahnatters]

So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?

Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)

In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.

"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."

I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.

Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.

Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.

From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.

Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.

I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.

I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.

No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.

Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.

The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.

Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.

Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.

[fingertipsmp3]

I really think I’m going to have to get a new laptop this year because the thought of using my current laptop for anything makes me want to puke

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you. 

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky. 

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected. 

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces. 

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different. 

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction. 

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait. 

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore. 

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks. 

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in. 

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is. 

Maybe he’s it. 

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine. 

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom. 

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him. 

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists. 

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust. 

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet. 

And you have a heated… What was it called again? 

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay. 

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you. 

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind. 

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works. 

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water. 

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery. 

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable. 

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.  

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen. 

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact. 

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?” 

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake. 

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather. 

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask. 

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks. 

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed. 

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him. 

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating. 

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice. 

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to. 

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his. 

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality. 

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea. 

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna. 

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now. 

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most. 

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. 

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end. 

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t. 

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken. 

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting. 

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room. 

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track. 

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command. 

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep. 

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him. 

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features. 

“Love… you’re awake.”

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[satangcrush]

by my side

✦ PAIRING / solomon x reader / ✦ SUMMARY: adjusting to your new normal, spoilers for nightbringer (?) ✦ WC: 0.6k

| MASTERLIST

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“You’re cooking?”

Satan pauses in the doorway with a confused expression, reading glasses perched high on his nose. You hummed in affirmation, as your free hand pointed to the table. His gaze followed your finger and landed on the bottle of blueberry juice.

“Is that for me?” He questions, walking over to pick up the bottle to inspect the label closer.

“Don’t you always crave this when you start to read?” You counter, as you grab a pan to start on your cooking. Satan falls silent as he continues to watch you move around, seeming as though he wanted to ask you a question. 

“Why are you cooking?”

“He’s sleeping.” You clarified. You had taken it upon yourself to whip up dinner since Belphie, who was supposedly in charge of cooking, was still knocked out cold in the attic. None of the usual tactics had worked so instead of wasting more time, you decided it would be better to start on cooking.

Satan just blanks at you with a inquisitive expression.

Ah, it must not have been what you used to do. The past you would have probably just gotten takeout on Lucifer’s dime or somehow, one way or another gotten Belphie awake. It’s been a couple of days since you had gotten back to your current timeline but you were still not used to the change. It seemed that the servitude was surprisingly ingrained deeper than you had thought.

The buzzing of your D.D.D thrums over the indistinct sizzling from the pan. None of the brothers has gone out today. Thus, it leads to the question. Who was calling you?

 With a furrow, you checked the caller ID. 

Caller ID: Solomon <3

“Ah, you picked up. I’m about to head home, and I was wondering what’s for dinner. If we’re missing anything, I can buy it on the way back.” The voice on the other side crackled pleasantly. You shift your D.D.D down so you could use your shoulder to hold it against your ear. 

“Devil duck confit.” You bent over slightly to let Solomon hear the sizzling from the pan. This was one of Solomon’s favourite (though to be fair, he is one of the least pickiest eater you have seen in your life, second to Beel). It also helped that you had some leftover duck meat from the previous night to prepare the dish.

Solomon lets out a laugh.

“I can’t wait, I’ll get some Demonus to go with the meal too. See you later.” He coos at you before hanging up the phone.

You slid the phone back into your pocket when you met eyes with Satan who was giving you a look that practically screamed what-the-hell as you belatedly realise your mistake.

“Uh.” You started. “I cooked an extra portion for Solomon.” 

Satan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Since when were you that close to him?” 

“Since now…?” 

Satan continues to stare at you suspiciously. “Is he coming here or are you going to Purgatory Hall?”

“Uh… let me ask him.” You clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead in your lie. With a sheepish smile, you brought out your D.D.D to shoot him a message.

[6:45PM] You: do you want to come to my place here for dinner or should i bring it over to Purgatory Hall?

[6:47PM] Solomon <3: Ah right. I forgot that we no longer live together.

[6:47PM] Solomon <3: Would you mind meeting me outside of the House of Lamentation? We can go to the nearby park to eat. It’s been a while since we had a date alone.

[6:50PM] You: 👍

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a/n ▸I finally got that solomon call so here is my addition lol also i clearly havent gotten far/played nightbringer so my characterisations could be completely wrong so uhhh just ignore it LOL

[theoreocat]

Hello everyone,

As you may have already heard via socials, Oreo was diagnosed with large cell Lymphoma on Wednesday. Not only this but he also has multiple lesions in many areas of his abdomen (so not just the one they originally saw). Because of this, the masses are inoperable. The large cell also grows much faster than the small cell. It's not the best news, but at least now we know what we're dealing with.

I was given three choices of treatment ranging from the most aggressive to the least aggressive. The most aggressive being a weekly IV at the clinic in Montreal. The second was every two weeks and the third option was a pill once a month along with steroids given at home daily. There's no way that Oreo will be able to go for weekly visits in his condition. Nevermind the long drive plus the traffic there and back. Therefore, I chose option 3 and went with the chemo pill. He has his first pill on Wednesday and if we see an improvement, he can go back in a month's time for a second pill. If we don't see any improvement, we can stop. Regardless of the treatments, Oreo was given a maximum of 6 months with the most aggressive. So we know where this is all going. My goal here is to keep him as comfortable as possible for the remainder of his time here and have the least vet visits possible as well.

Yesterday he wasn't doing well at all but the chemo can largely affect appetite and other things for the first few days. We had a technician from our local clinic come to our home to administer fluids yesterday. This seemed to help him a bit. I've also arranged with the same clinic that when the time comes, they can help him to move on here at home. I know it's sad but these are all things I need to think about and I want to be sure that he's comfortable for every step of the way.

The pill has a 50% chance of working so we will see what percentile he is in within the next couple of weeks. The other treatments have a higher percentage rate but they're much more difficult on the animal. We were lucky this week that the appointment fell during the construction holiday so the traffic was not bad. Once the holiday is over, it may take upwards of 2 hours to get to the clinic at any time of day. I don't think that's fair to Oreo.

Oreo ate this morning around 4 am with the others. He ate a small bit again around 7:30. I will go to get him some new type of food that was suggested by a friend later today. For the remainder of his time, he can eat whatever he wants.

Thank you all once again for your kind words, generosity and continued support.

Tina.

[xzvgq]

6 nights with NMIXX

Male Reader x NMIXX

genres: rough sex, oral sex, shower sex, overstimulation, creampie, quickie, blowjob, morning sex

wc: 4.8k

Hey it turns out you are lucky after all.

You and 6 other friends decided to rent a house (more of a mansion) for a couple of days. While you always go on vacations with them this time all 6 came by. As always Haewon drove the car while Lily sat in the front, Kyujin, Jiwoo and You sat beside each other and Bae and Sullyoon sat beside each other too.

At first going to a house with 6 girls as a guy should be a bad idea, anything could happen after all. Every minute being in the car you thought how bad of an idea this really is, yes you love the girls, yes you would love to go on vacation with them, but at the same time Haewon paid for the house so you really have no right to say no to her.

Arriving at the house you saw how huge it was, 4 floors, a gate around it and a big pool too. All of you quickly got your stuff and entered the house, not wanting to waste any time you started to explore the house. It really looked awesome you were questioning on how Haewon had the money to rent it, you did see that all girls except one stayed in the kitchen.

“Whats up?” Bae asked

“Nothing” You answered

“Cool…” Bae said “Hey um, whats going on with you today?”

“In what way?” You asked

“You just seem shy.” Bae answered

“Well, im with 6 girls as a guy and in a mansion” you said “You know how awkward this is?”

“Oh come on, you are going to be so close to all of us at the end of the week” Bae said

“Well…” you said while looking towards the first floor. It did make you think, would it even happen?

“Kyujin and Jiwoo are the only people you arent close to.” Bae said breaking the silence

“You too.” You said

“We are talking right now. I would say we are close!” Bae said

“Fair.” You said. Both of you went back to the first floor, seeing that only Sullyoon and Jiwoo are there.

“Wheres everyone?” You asked

“Haewon and Lily went to their room and Kyujin is…great question” Jiwoo said

“We lost the maknae?” Bae said

“Its a huge house i wont even be surprised that you get lost” Jiwoo teased

“Wheres Haewon?” You asked

“HERE” She shouted from upstairs. You quickly went wherever she is.

“Missed me?” Haewon said as she hugged you

“Sort of” You teased

“Hey, me and Lily arranged the rooms for the rest of you” Haewon said “Kyujin, Sullyoon and Lily are living together, Bae and you are living together and me and Jiwoo live together”

“Oh Kyujin is in her room then?” You asked

“Yeah” Haewon answered “You didnt know?”

“Jiwoo didnt” You said

“Oh alright” Haewon said

Both of you finally met the rest of the girls in the kitchen, you saw how all of them glanced a look at you two.

“What?” Haewon asked

“Fucked her already?” Bae said, making the girls laugh

“No.” You said

“Well alright.” Bae said “Took both of you too long”

“8 minutes is too long?” Haewon asked

“Well i havent fucked him have i?” Bae said

“I also havent” Haewon said “I literally heard you moan last time we went on vacation” Lily said

“I-i…no. I wasnt moaning” Haewon tried to deny

“Want a drink?” Jiwoo tried to change the topic

“Yeah sure” Haewon said “and you?”

“Of course.” You said.

Jiwoo went on to make the drink for you and Haewon, while waiting you decided to go the living room where you saw Kyujin and Lily.

“Hey” Kyujin said

“Hey” You said

“We are going to the pool in a bit wanna go with us?” Kyujin asked

“Only you two?” You asked back

“Of course not.” Kyujin answered

“Yeah i will go too” You said “Its so hot how can i not”

“Exactly.” Kyujin said. After a while of waiting Jiwoo arrived bringing you and Haewon a drink, seeing how close you and Haewon are the members obviously suspected something is going on.

“Are you both finally official?” Jiwoo asked

“No?” Haewon said

“Really?” Jiwoo teased

“Yes really. You should know that if anything im friends with benefits with him” Haewon said

“Whatever makes you happy i guess” Jiwoo said

“Hey me and Lily are going to the pool join us if yall want” Kyujin said

“Oh hell yeah we want” Jiwoo said before rushing

“Wait for us Jiwoo-” Bae said before rushing after her too

“Should we wake her up?” You asked

“You can wake her up i will go to the pool already” Haewon said

“Well alright” You said before approaching Sullyoon. Before waking her up you couldnt stop admiring how fine she looked, you didnt understand how a person can be this good looking while sleeping.

“Hm?” Sullyoon said

“We are going to the pool” You said

“Oh okay” Sullyoon said before getting up, you were ready to go out to the pool but Sullyoon decided to call you

“Y/n?” Sullyoon said

“Yes?” You said

“I need help with something” Sullyoon said, you kinda knew what this could be about.

“You sure?” you asked

“Just get in here” Sullyoon said

“Well if you say so-” You said before opening the door just ot be met with her half naked

“What? you havent seen a naked girl?” Sullyoon teased you “Anyway could you help closing my bikini?”

“Uh yeah sure” you said

“You legit havent seen naked girl?” Sullyoon asked

“Of course i have” You answered

“Like in real life?” Sullyoon asked

“Yeah, in real life” You answered

“Then why are you shy?” Sullyoon said “Is it weird to see your crush naked?”

“Lets just go” You said

“Sure.” Sullyoon said.

You went out and saw that the girls were already having fun, it took you to close the door about too loudly for them to realize.

“Took you long enough” Bae teased

“I just needed help with my bikini” Sullyoon said

“Or did he fuck you?” Bae asked

“What? No!” Sullyoon said

“He definitely fucked you” Bae said

“Shut up.” Sullyoon said

“I didnt fuck her” You jumped in

“Sure” Bae said

“Oh y/n can you play some music?” Lily asked

“Sure” you answered before once again going into the house. You didnt really know where the speaker is so instead of finding for it you decided to ask one of the girls to come with you.

“Where is the music?” Lily asked

“I need someone to come with me to find the speaker” you said before eyeing Haewon

“I will go.” Haewon said

In truth you could have probably find the speaker by yourself but you wanted to spend time with Haewon.

“Here it is!” Haewon said “You didnt look here?”

“Im not the one who rented the house” You said

“Well then” Haewon said “Im not that strong baby”

“Oh i know” You said

“The girls are in their own world, how about we just have some fun?” Haewon asked

“Are you insane?” You asked

“Oh dont act like you dont want to fuck me” Haewon said

“I guess i do” You said

“Then lets do this quick” Haewon said before undressing herself.

“Oh god” Haewon moaned out “I-its huge”

“And you like it. Dont you?” You said before starting to speed up in her. You saw how quickly Haewon went from the cute and teasing girl to the horny girl.

“You know i DO” Haewon moaned out as you started to fuck her fast. You really took her Lets do this quick, seriously…i mean who wouldnt? You have a hot girl, your crush even right below you and fucking her brains out.

You kissed Haewon resulting into a short but godly makeout, while fucking her you felt her pussy walls closing onto your dick. Bringing both of you to a peak and bringing the short fuck to the end.

“Cum in my mouth” Haewon said before you stuck your dick into her mouth, giving her a short but really good oral fuck.

You came in Haewon’s mouth and saw how she swallowed it.

“God you are such a freak” You said

“Im your freak~” Haewon said

“Well, how about we bring it down?” You asked to which Haewon nodded. After bringing the speaker down to the first floor and connecting your phone to it you played whatever song you remembered suddenly.

“Well that took long” Bae said “Is the mansion that huge?”

“Yeah we found a completely different room so you know we had to explore!” You said

“Fair” Bae said “Turn it a bit up though”

“Y/n turn the music up” Kyujin said

“Uh sure” You said. After what felt like hours all of you went out of the pool. You saw how dark it was getting and just wanted to sleep but the girls didnt.

“I will go to sleep” You said

“Uh no you wont” Haewon said

“Its 3am” You said

“2:36 to be specific.” Haewon corrected you

“Come on Y/n! Dont be so boring” Bae said

“Im not boring just want to sleep” You said

“We have a week.” Lily jumped in

“Yeah shes right. We have a whole week here we can stay up all night any day we want” Jiwoo said

“Well then lets call it a night” Bae said Waking up the next day, you checked your phone and saw that its only 8am, while wanting to sleep still you decided to wake up.

“Morning” Bae said half awake

“Morning?” you said “awake already?”

“Sort of” Bae said

“I wanted to go out but now that you are awake i wont!” You said as you sat on her bed

“I didnt know you are clingy?” Bae teased

“I am?” You asked before answering yourself “How could i not be clingy to a hot girl?”

“Oh i-i…” Bae stuttered. You saw that flirting with her was a weakness but you didnt want to make a move yet.

“You think i didnt see how you looked at me yesterday?” You asked getting closer to Bae

“Y/n-” Bae tried to stop you

“How you tried to not cuddle with me all day?” You asked “God.” Bae said, you saw that at this point she surrendered she knows what you are doing but she just doesnt understand why you arent making a move

“Can you just kiss me-” Bae said before you did so. The kiss quickly turned into a makeout with you bringing Bae on your lap and bringing your hands under her shirt.

“Are you a fan of sex in the morning?” Bae asked before undressing herself

“Sort of.” You answered

“Well you will be after today.” Bae said before undressing you too, freeing your rock hard boner.

“No wonder Haewon loves you” Bae said before giving you a blowjob. Her sucking skill were so good that you thought this isnt her first time. Not long after you saw her slowly sticking your dick into her pussy.

“S-shit” Bae moaned out

“You are so fucking tight oh wow-” You said

“C-can you NOT” Bae moaned loudly “Shhh…you dont want other to hear do you?” You asked before she nodded “Good. Now how about we start?”

At first you go slow and soft with her, after all she deserves it, but then you start to quickly fuck her to the point you were sure she would lose it all in seconds but she didnt.

“Huh you take a lot more than Haewon” You said before speeding up, you reach for her arms but not long after you pull out. You look at Bae, at this point you were sure the Bae you knew 10 minutes ago is not the same Bae right now.

“Ruin me.” Bae said

“Gladly.” You said before sticking your dick in her again. This time you do it hard, not soft. You start to speed up in her but not long before Bae has her own orgasm

“GOD” She moans out, you look at her before you continue fucking her. Enjoying what you see you decided to pull her up to you making contact with each others bodies and start to fuck her faster and faster.

You havent even fucked Haewon this hard let alone to the point she has had her own orgasm, you have no idea how Bae is the type of girl to be this kinky.

Not long after you have your own orgasm cuming in her. You see what a mess you both made but thats not the biggest problem, the biggest problem is you cuming in her.

“Oh shit” You said

“Its fine” Bae said “It was good. Thank you.”

“Welcome?” You said

“I am on birth control dont worry” Bae confronted you

“Oh thats good” You said before cuddling up to her. Silence sets in as you both realize what you just did, but god you feel proud of this. For some reason you dont feel guilty you feel happy by what you did.

“Are you a fan of cuddling after sex?” Bae asked you breaking the silence

“Sort of” You said

“You dont cuddle with Haewon after fucking her?” Bae asked

“Uh well, we usually dont have rough sex.” You answered

“Oh you like to be soft with her?” Bae asked again

“Of course” You answered

“Im guessing you fucked Haewon yesterday” Bae said

“Wasnt it obvious” You teased her “Yeah i did”

“Cool!” Bae said before getting up but not before laying back down

“Hold on wheres my shirt” Bae said

“Under the bed” You said

“Oh right” Bae said

“Should we go?” You asked

“Yeah” Bae answered

“I will eat and then go take a shower for sure” You said

“Theres a hot tub by the way” Bae said

“Wait seriously?” You asked

“Yeah you didnt know?” Bae asked back

“Nope” You answered

Both of you went down and saw that almost everyone was there. You werent surprised at all though as it is around 9am already.

“Long day ahead.” Lily said

“What?” You asked

“Nothing i just wanted to say something to break the silence” Lily said

“Okay” You said

“Generic response” Lily said

“Hey Lily, i think that Jiwoo needs help with the food” You said

“You think so?” Lily asked

“Mhm” You said before Lily got up and went to help her. In truth you just knew that she would continue to tease you.

“This is the first time i have seen you speak to Lily in english” Kyujin said

“Oh well” You said “You can speak to me in english too!”

“Can i?” Kyujin asked, you're not that shocked that she knows English as Lily sort of taught her.

“Yes you can” You said

“See i know how to speak English!” Kyujin said

“Yeah cause Lily taught you” You said

“You did the most teaching” Kyujin said

“I know” You said

“Wow” Kyujin said

After relaxing in the kitchen for a while, you finally went to take the shower. You were shocked at how nice and huge it looked. At first you thought you are in the wrong room but then you saw the hot tub which Bae was talking about and of course you had to try it out.

You seriously wanted to be in the hot tub just a little longer but you knew that the girls would think you drowned in the bathtub so you finally stepped out, dressed and went downstairs.

“Well that took long” Jiwoo said

“Bae wasn't lying huh” You said

“About what?” Jiwoo asked

“About the hot tub” You answered

“Oh yeah the hot tub is awesome” Jiwoo said

“You’re awesome too” You said

“W-what?” Jiwoo stuttered

“Nothing” You said before going back upstairs

“COME BACK” Jiwoo screamed running after you

“Yeah?” You said as she stopped you and pushed you into a completely different room

“Is this the room where you got the speaker?” Jiwoo asked

“Yeah” You answered

“Good.” Jiwoo said before she kissed you. You didnt understand what just happened, you went from playfully flirting with her to now making out with her.

“I want you to fuck me.” Jiwoo said

“Are you sure?” You said

“Uh yeah?” Jiwoo said before starting to undress. Not wanting to waste any time you decided to undress yourself too.

“Slowly-” Jiwoo cut herself off with a moan. You wanted to go gentle with the girl but it wasnt long after you started to go faster.

“OH GOD” Jiwoo moaned now louder. You were sure that if someone would go out of their room they would hear it.

It didnt take long at all before she reached her peak already.

“DONT STOP PLEASE” Jiwoo moaned now even louder

“For a loud girl you dont take long to cum do you?” You said in her ear before kissing it, Jiwoo didnt know if she was even the person she was before this, but all she knew is that you shouldnt stop.

“Just shut up and FUCK ME” Jiwoo reached her 2nd orgasm, at this point you didnt know how much more it would take for her to be ruined.

“You are cute when you think you are in control.” You said while speeding up, while she is almost at 3rd orgasm you arent even at your first.

“You are so-” Jiwoo said

“So what?” You teased her

“Continue fucking me” Jiwoo said, you did so not knowing how much more she could take. You kept hitting her G-spot and bringing her into a new world that she never experienced. At this point you reached your own orgasm as well, not wanting to cum in another girl you decided to quickly pull out.

“God…” Jiwoo tried to catch her breath

“It was awesome” You said

“I wonder if the others know” Jiwoo said

“Probably not” You said

“I hope so” Jiwoo said

“What time is it?” You asked

“Almost 11pm, why?” Jiwoo asked back

“Nothing just asking” You said

“Well, i will go” Jiwoo said

“We will go” You corrected her

Overall everything went well, you didnt even understand what happened but you were sure you will need to take another bath later. Going back to your room you hoped that Bae wont ask you anything. “Well that took you long” Bae said

“I was with Jiwoo” You said

“See! I told you that you will be closer to all of us at the end!” Bae said

“Whatever” You said

You completely forgot that you wanted to go shower, you were sitting on your phone when all of a sudden you remembered.

“Where are you going?” Bae asked

“Shower?” You said

“At 1am?” Bae asked back

“You can come with me!” You said

“No thanks” Bae said “I am not a big fan of sex in the shower”

“We wont fuck!” You said

“Just like we didnt fuck in the morning?” Bae teased

“I will go” You said before going out. While the bathroom for some reason is quite far from your room you had some time to go.

“Y/n?” Someone asked

“Yes?” You asked before turning around to be met with Kyujin

“Are you going to shower?” Kyujin asked

“Yes” You answered

“Im going with you!” Kyujin said before running in the bathroom, you debated if you should wait or risk it and go.

“COME IN” Kyujin screamed, at this point you knew you couldnt go anywhere so you decided to give up and go in.

Once you did go you already saw Kyujin in the hot tub, you knew how wrong this is but at the same time you couldnt let this chance go away.

“So?” Kyujin asked

“Huh?” You asked back

“Are you going to come in with me?” Kyujin asked

“…yeah. I will.” You said

“This shouldnt be weird” Shes right. It shouldnt, but it is.

“You are attractive.” Kyujin said

“Thanks.” You said

“Um…so look. We are adults.” Kyujin said

“I know” You said trying to not look at her at all, however while trying to do that you felt Kyujin coming closer and closer to you

“Stop-” You said before she started giving you a handjob

“Dont act like you dont want this” Kyujin said

“I guess i do” You said before kissing her, you hated how good this felt but you also didnt want this chance to go away.

“You know…” Kyujin said before completely undressing “My eyes are up here.” “Yes.” You said, you hated how she had control over your body right now.

“Oh wow-” You said as she started to give you a blowjob “You sure do know how to suck a dick”

“Porn does wonders.” Kyujin said. You never thought she would know how to suck a dick but it felt so good.

“Oh wow” Kyujin moaned out as she inserted your dick into her

“God you are tight” You said

“Shut up-” Kyujin said before you kissed her

“You know i have seen how you look at me” You said before thrusting in her

“I-i havent” Kyujin said

“How you checked me out” You said

“No-” Kyujin said

“How you got jealous when i talked to Bae and Haewon” You started to go faster

“Fuck” Kyujin moaned out, you saw how weak she became, how she started to surrender under you

“You take a lot too dont you” You said before started to go even faster. You didnt care anymore, all you wanted was to make her cum as soon as possible.

You felt her pussy walls closing in on your dick and you knew how close she was. It didnt take long for her to finally have her orgasm.

“FUCK” Kyujin moaned out, soon after you also came but quickly pulled out and came in her mouth, to which she swallowed.

“God.” You said

“Porn. thats how i know.” Kyujin said

Both of you sat in the hot tub which at this point was getting a bit colder, it didnt take long before you decided to go out.

“Well…” Kyujin said

“It was good” You said

“I needed that thanks.” Kyujin said

“Welcome.” You said “You wont come with me?”

“Eh no i will stay here for a bit” Kyujin said

“Well alright then” You said before going out of the bathroom, you couldnt stop thinking about what just happened.

Going back into your room, Bae was already sleeping which you didnt care that much.

Waking up the next day should have been nothing other than just relaxing however Lily had different plans.

“Anything planned today?” Lily asked

“Nope” You answered

“Thats unfortunate” Lily said as she sat besides you “Because i do.”

“Lily-” You said before she kissed you, it wasnt a soft kiss or anything but a kiss that made you surrender to her.

“Shouldnt we take-” She undressed you and herself before you could even finish your sentence

“You were saying?” Lily asked

“Nothing” You said

“Good.” She said before giving you a handjob

“Is this not your first time?” You asked

“Im not innocent” Lily said before sucking your dick, it really did feel like heaven at this point she was sucking you off so good that you were surprised.

“Fuck-” She said as she put her dick in her pussy

“God you are tight” You said

“I-i GOD” Lily said before you started thrusting in her.

“You are what?” You teased

“Nothing-” Lily said, the chance of someone going out right now and catching you both is high but you did you care? nope.

“S-stop” Lily said as she slowed down, you were scared as any reason would currently be valid.

“Bedroom.” Lily said she put her panties back on There wasnt a need for her to repeat, you quickly put back your boxers and rushed to the bedroom.

“Lock the door” Lily said

“Shall we?” You asked as you pointed your dick at her pussy once again.

“Oh yes” Lily responded. You went slow at first but quickly fastened. Your dick hit her G-spot. Every single time it did hit, her eyes rolled back to her brain.

“Enjoy it?” You said while speeding up. You fucked her as if she was the last thing on earth, she bit her lip to hide her moans, but that wasnt enough as you fucked her harder and harder.

“F-fuck” Lily finally reached her peak, as much as you wanted to stop, you didnt. You were close to your climax as well. “Open your mouth” You demanded and she did so. You fucked her mouth, hitting the back of her throat until you came which wasnt long.

You finally came, you pulled out of her mouth and saw her swallow it.

“Holy shit” was all you could say

“You fucked my brains out i think…” Lily said

“Im proud of it.” You said, while laying down both of you heard a knock

“Yes?” You asked

“Dinners ready.” Haewon said

“Alright” You said

“Dress up!” Lily said before going out

“Hey wait-” You said. You went downstairs just to be met with Haewon and Jiwoo

“Wheres the rest?” You asked

“Out in the pool” Haewon answered

“Oh alright” You said

After you ate, you decided to go out but not in the pool.

“Wont you come in?” Kyujin asked

“Nope” You said before sitting on the chair

“Why not?” Kyujin asked

“I was in the hot tub this morning” You answered

“I should probably try it out” Sullyoon said

“You should, its awesome.” You said

“You should go with her” Haewon said

“I have been saying that to Yoona all morning” Bae said

“Shes an adult she can go alone-” You said

“You went with Kyujin though” Jiwoo said

“Thats a different story” You said

“Not really” Kyujin said You wanted to prove yourself right but you knew they would continue to tease you, so you just gave up. Hours later you were once again the living room, not really doing anything except scrolling through your phone.

“So…will you come to the hot tub with me?” Sullyoon asked breaking the silence

“Do you want to?” You asked

“Sort of” Sullyoon answered

“Sure then.” You said before getting up and following her in the bathroom. She quickie undressed as did you.

It shouldnt be that awkward but it was…for some reason.

“You have seen me naked already” Sullyoon said

“Yeah i know” You said

“How badly you have wanted to fuck me since then?” Sullyoon asked

“A ton.” You said

“This is your chance to fuck me then” Sullyoon said before giving you a handjob

“Mhm.” You said before kissing her, the kiss lasted for a while but she pulled away.

“Sit up” Sullyoon said “I want to suck you off”

“For a shy girl- shit.” You said right as she started sucking you off. You would be lying if it didnt feel good

“For a shy girl you sure are horny-” You said right before your dick hit the back of her throat, and god it felt awesome you really did think you were in heaven.

“I want that dick in me” Sullyoon said

“Sure.” You said before you aimed your dick at her pussy

“Shit-” Sullyoon moaned. You wanted to go slow at first but you wanted her to remember tonight for a while.

“Wait- oh god” Sullyoon said

“You alright?” You asked, in genuine concern “Oh i am” Sullyoon said “Fuck me like you mean it-” You did so, you fucked her as fast as you could.

Sullyoon bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, she couldnt hide her moans anymore as you fucked her faster and faster.

Your dick kept hitting her G-spot. You were sure she would lose it all any second but she didnt. Instead she kept on resisting the orgasm.

“Is this the best pussy you have ever fucked?” Sullyoon asked as you continued to abuse her pussy

“Yes.”

“Better than Haewon?” Wanting you to admit that she is the best you will ever get and have in your life

“Shit-” You said “Fuck yes.”

“Then fucking ruin me.” Sullyoon said before you sped up. She wanted to be ruined and you will gladly accept her offer.

Your gripped her hair, and fucked her as fast as you could. It didnt take long before she finally reached her climax, as did you. Following fast you cam in her.

You slowly pulled out admiring how you destroyed her.

“Well Shit” was call you could say.

“Admit that you like me.” Sullyoon said

“I do, but more Haewon” You said

“You sure?” Sullyoon asked

“Maybe.” You said

Both of you finally went out, to see everyone in the living room.

“Had fun?” Jiwoo asked

“Yes.” Sullyoon answered

They knew. All seven of you knew what happened these past couple days, and for sure none of you will forget it.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance. 

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away. 

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night. 

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily. 

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved. 

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else. 

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone. 

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?” 

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet. 

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late. 

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave. 

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay. 

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months. 

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question. 

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away. 

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter. 

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart. 

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine. 

Until she’s not. 

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine. 

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck. 

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out. 

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion. 

 “I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers. 

“What?” 

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home. 

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind. 

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight. 

April 2033 

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age. 

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word. 

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her. 

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen. 

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother. 

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room. 

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it. 

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse. 

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too. 

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever. 

“Why would this be about Clémence?” 

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again. 

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown. 

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen. 

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks. 

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her. 

“Hey,” she whispers. 

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?” 

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029 

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave. 

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off. 

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had. 

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years. 

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown. 

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again. 

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it. 

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp. 

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could,  “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze. 

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever. 

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too. 

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back. 

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk. 

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug. 

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face. 

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs. 

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests. 

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women. 

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins. 

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking. 

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world. 

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette. 

“Clém-” Azzi sighs. 

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home. 

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand. 

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence. 

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip. 

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless. 

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up. 

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly. 

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently. 

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns. 

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air. 

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door. 

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles. 

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand. 

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally. 

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow. 

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously. 

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much. 

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound. 

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells. 

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right. 

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi. 

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first. 

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder. 

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs. 

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice. 

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

[moonsaver]

I cant stop thinking about being a possible singer from the Iris Family?? Their family is usually responsible for the major "talent" productions that practically are responsible for the entertainment... also Siobhan as hints to what the Iris family would be like.

-

You were a singer.

Barely a singer, to be fair.

It was for the sake of your little compartment of a family. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you scraped out every last bit of your talents. The one which seems to be lasting the longest, seems to be singing.

You did what you had to. You sang until your throat was raw and hurt, practiced day and night until your ears were sick of your own voice, passed through every elimination tests that were conducted – all so you could have a stabilized, bolted place in the Iris Family, if it meant you and your parents and siblings weren't kicked out.

And, you weren't the best. And certainly not as good as Robin – the gem of the Oak Family. It was ironic, but it didn't matter. Not to you. As long as it kept your family secure, you endured. The comparisons, the hushed, barely pleased audience as they only took your performance as stalling time for the "real stars" of the show, the side-glances all of your other relatives threw your way. It was fine. You told yourself so. It was fine as long as you, your parents and your siblings were secured.

Risks weren't an option for you. Not when you had too much to lose.

-

Sunday has learned to appreciate frequency over output.

Times where schedules had to be rearranged last minute, performances strained and announcements elongated to squeeze out any extra amount of coverage for a missing show, routine dismantled and put together in real time as the neverending perfect show went on.

In all of those times, Sunday kept a usual eye on everyone. Their names, roles, status, popularity, preferences. And most importantly – their reliability.

You were an average performer. But your reliability was notable to Sunday. Oftentimes he found himself looking for you first and foremost for an improvised concert, whenever things even threatened to go awry. He knew perhaps you obliged out of self-interest or a simple fear of upsetting The Head of the Oak Family, but you were reliable in your own way. A simple glance your way and a nod was enough to signal you for advance preparation for improvisation, repeated song lyrics at the tip of your tongue.

If you were lucky, sometimes Sunday would repay you by scheduling you for an opening performance for a small-time event, or letting you in on the recent trends, the general public opinion towards your show, or even drop some personal hints for you to improve.

That was all you were. A reliable stand-in for when there were a disarray of clarity, disagreements upon disagreements, confusion stagnating the scheduling.

-

Until, you became so much more in a simple moment of disillusion.

A break is in order, Sunday believes. He clicks his pen continuously, the sound echoing in the vast space of the room, bouncing off of the sterile, empty walls.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

5 times.

Click.

6 times.

Sunday's restless mind comes to a small halt when he inhales sharply, constraining his fingers. His shaking hand gently places the pen onto the flat, neatly organized desk, back where it belongs. He rests his chin on his hands. Thinking and listing everything on his agenda for the day.

A tandem of knocks resound from the smooth wooden surface of the door.

"Mr. Sunday?"

Ah. It's you.

He supposes his asisstants and servants don't realize he's noticed the recent pattern as of late. Whenever something changes in the schedule that could possibly threaten to dampen his mood or displease him, they send you in as some sort of collateral. He's gotten used to your presence enough to not mind it.

"Come in."

Short, quick clicks of your heels accompany the entering of your figure into the room. Your front is warmly illuminated by the yellow lighting of the room.

"Changes have been decided within the schedule again."

"As expected."

He gets up from the leather chair with a subtle creak, the steps of his shoes muffled by the carpet. He walks around his table, fingers trailing across the ridges of the masterfully crafted desk.

"Can I ask a favor of you, as always?"

"Of course."

His wings slightly flutter, pleased at the response. You can tell, despite his back facing you.

His fingers trail and come to a slow halt at the edge of the desk. His index finger taps on the surface.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

5 times.

Ah, you think. He's anxious.

"Mr. Sunday?"

"Hm?"

His finger stops, you note.

"I've heard guests have taken more to berry-flavored items as of late."

He chuckles a bit, softly.

"There's an uprising trend. Berry-flavored items have been on the rise, and as such, food follows."

Sunday half theorizes it could be due to the recent intreview Robin had. Strawberry flavored lipgloss was something she mentioned in particular.

"Ah. I see. So I suppose those colors may also influence the recent fashion trends?"

Sunday hums, in thought.

The moment is interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door.

"Mr. Sunday, there's a few tasks that need your approval to go ahead."

The male asisstant's voice resounds confidently through the previously quiet room. Sunday looks over at you and nods. You turn to take your leave. You can only hope it was enough of a reprieve for him.

-

"It seems fashion trends are inspired, aswell."

Sunday mentions, standing beside you. His eyes are watchful, analyzing the current performance from behind the curtains.

"I see."

You respond. Making conversation was not your strongsuit. Sunday smiles slightly at your awkwardness.

He continued the conversation after a few moments, talking about color palettes, scents, and general observable trends. Your usual,basic gowns and dresses will now see a noticeable change, due to Sunday's suggestions.

He admits, even at times, he looks forward to them. Sometimes, as foolish as it sounds, he slips in a mix of his own personal opinion, thinly disguised as the "general preference", which manages to then take presidence over your usual pick of gowns. He won't admit it, but he secretly does enjoy sometimes "picking out" your outfits. It's never harmed anyone in the long run, and Sunday's personal theories of whichever color would look good on you are confirmed.

-

"May I ask.. what this is..?"

The artificial, blue light of the Dreamscape softly highlights Sunday's face, as he stands before you with a pleased look. The same, usual smile on his face.

"I believe incorporating a few gold accents into your palette may help."

You look at the black, velvet bag; the ends of it scrunched into a closure. Your fingers gently pry it open and meddle around a bit, before they pull out a single, gold earring. It glimmers wonderfully under the soft, blue light. There's a flower at the very top with an encrusted diamond, from which a long, elegant thread of gold dangles, ending into a small golden stalk.

You curiously examine it, slightly dangling it to inspect the weight and movement of the accessory.

Sunday walks toward you with a few, short strides, and holds out his hand.

You look at his open, gloved palm, then him.

You inhale deeply, before taking off your current earrings and placing them onto his hand, and gently replacing their former stations with the new earrings. Sunday places your previous earrings into the velvet bag, and glances at your ears, then you.

"Consider it a.. company gift."

How fanciful.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Sunday's eyes linger on your ears, then trail down to the junction of your jaw. His eyes close as his smiles widens slightly.

To be fair, he wanted more.

‐

Sunday has been getting closer to you as of late.

Because you wouldn't imagine ever being this close in proximity to Robin of all people.

Her lips are glossy with a strawberry tint, and her eyes are a beautiful lake green, you note. You also take note of the fact she's much more warmer and approachable than she is appeared to be on digital surfaces.

Both of you engage in polite conversation, her taking the lead, noticing your awkwardness. She's sweet, and understanding. She discusses general things regarding singing and songwriting. You take her for a very warm individual. It's no wonder she's a well-liked popstar. Talent alone can take you so far.

What you also wouldn't imagine is her managing to entangle you within her daily affairs. She leads you to private rooms, asks for advice on outfits, practice, and all sorts of things, despite the contrast of your styles almost bizzare, you oblige anyway.

And it's almost brazenly obvious she's trying to get you and Sunday to spend more time alone outside of work.

It's of no coincidence that she suddenly has to leave and take care of a few things or shuffle around a bit outside whenever Sunday manages to pop in and check up on you two. It wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if for the fact, Sunday's eyes are always lingering on your ears.

Once, he'd taken note that you'd been wearing them more often to your performances and shows. It can't be helped – you've gained more popularity and as a result, keener eyes inspect your choice of practically everything. Including your earrings. Your fans aren't hesitant to point out how exquisite and specific the craftsmanship of your earrings are, and it's not long before your fans have understood it was gifted to you. By who, became the newest sensation regarding you. Petty rumors were incriminating, but you suppose if it brought you more fans, it was enough.

Sunday chuckles softly when you briefly touch on the subject.

It wasn't long before he'd gotten you another pair as a result.

You only worry about paying him back, more and more.

‐

There are a plethora of thorns on Sunday's side. Many, of which the public, and many members of the Oak Family aren't privy to.

One of them was currently busy darkening his doorstep;

The IPC.

Or rather specifically – Aventurine.

What he wasn't expecting, was for you to be an exclusive invitee to his mischief.

You were rather in an unlucky spot. You had always considered your luck to be rusty, having struggled so much just for average recognition and a barely tangible career that's keeping your family afloat.

On top of that, you were being heavily persuaded by Aventurine, who was persistent in his offer to you. His desperation was more than obvious, like a nervous dog waiting for the bone toss, holding you in place with a firm grip on your arm. It didn't help that he'd forced his way into your hotel room aswell.

And Sunday just witnessed the pinnacle of this forsaken deal.

...

"Aventurine."

"Mr. Sunday."

After a beat of silence, you pathetically try to step in,

"This–"

"I see you've taken to familiarizing with my employees."

Sunday's smile remains well plastered on his face. Aventurine only smiles back.

"I was actually in the middle of striking a deal. There's always opportunities in the best of places, right?" Aventurine side-eyes you. You shrink back a bit.

"My employees are unfortunately off-limits to contracts from unauthorized branches. I look for your understanding in this.. complicated form of approach."

You watch Aventurine's smile strain. Sunday continues.

"Perhaps, if you are in need of a singer, I may direct you to an appropriate employee from the Iris Family to search for someone."

"That won't be necessary. I wasn't looking for a singer. You don't think that's all they're talented at, do you?"

Sunday's eyes slightly sharpen at him. Aventurine's smile becomes more genuine.

"Oh, you've positively ruined the mood. I guess it's just not my lucky day, and it looks like I'm not getting a deal with you anytime soon."

Aventurine's eyes hone in on you. You stand stiffly, your arm tense from the uncertainty your body feels physically.

His grip loosens, languidly. You'd think he was doing it slowly on purpose if not to tick off Sunday more.

"I'll take my leave, then."

Aventurine breezes past Sunday, rounding the corner of the door. He casts one last glance to you as the turns.

His footsteps echo down the hallway. As soon as they fade, Sunday's smile drops slightly.

"Are you perhaps.. unhappy with your current circumstances?"

‐

[vanishingcherry]

MARRY ME?

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of jules bianchi and herve leclerc, google translated french, marriage and proposals (self explanatory)

summary: the 4 times charles has asked you to marry him and the one time you said yes

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

── 6 years old

Your parents had brought you to a wedding.

Your mother was the bride's closest friend, meaning you had the honour of being the flower girl. The ceremony itself was short and sweet, you watched the bride in awe, in love with her dress.

Not too long later, you were joined by a young boy your age. He was the ring bearer, also watching as the ceremony came to a close.

As the newly married couple walks out together, the boy turns to you.

"We should get married too" He suggests.

"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise. "I don't even know your name"

"C'est Charles. Et toi?" it's charles, and you?

"Y/N."

"Ok so now we can get married, yes? It will be fun."

"Je ne sais pas Charles, i dont know, I need to ask mummy first." You reply. On the outside you were trying to act as normal as possible, but on the inside, you kind of wanted it to happen.

To be fair, why wouldn't you want to wear a pretty dress and get some pretty flowers. You could picture it now, walking down the aisle with a bouquet in your hand and a sparkling dress with thousands of glittery sequins.

It was settled then. If she said yes, you would get married. It would be perfect. Grabbing Charles's hand, you scan the room for your mother, spotting her at the main table, awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom.

Running up to her, you tug at her dress with your hand, still holding Charles's in the other. She looks down.

"Mummy he asked me to marry him." You say in excitement, raising the hand that was entwined with Charles's.

Everyone at the table laughs at that, and you frown in response, not understanding what was wrong. Your mother, stifling a laugh herself, replies, "And what did you say?"

"That I had to ask you first. Is it okay if I marry him mummy?"

"Hmm are you sure you're not a little too young?"

"But i'm 6 years old. That is an entire hand plus 1". Adamant to get a pretty dress, you press on. Charles is still holding your hand, standing behind you patiently. He didn't want to say anything that would ruin his chances.

His mother had explained to him a few days ago why weddings happened. She had said that he would know when he met the person he wanted to marry, that she would be beautiful and kind and the best person in the world.

Pascale had explained to Charles that day that if he loved the girl, then everything would be alright, and they would be together forever. Upon meeting Y/N, he knew that she was his forever, it was just incredibly unfortunate that her mother seemed to think 6 was too young when it was obviously the perfect age.

You were still trying to convince your mother that it was perfect, everything was already set up and you were sure the bride wouldn't mind if you got married too.

"How about this", she suggests, "what if you and Charles get married when you are 25?"

"25!" You're shocked, 25 seemed so far away.

"I think 25 is the perfect age, yes? Both of you will be old enough then."

Knowing it was the best deal you would get, you agreed. Leading Charles away, you told him what your mother and you had compromised on. He seemed slightly disappointed at the news, but figured it would be okay, it was only 19 years after all.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

Unbeknownst to you, your mothers were exchanging numbers at the table, knowing it would be impossible to keep you two apart after today.

── 17 years old

Charles had gotten into Formula 1.

Not too long after winning the F2 Championship, Charles had started getting calls. He was almost always on the phone with his manager, before finally announcing that he signed with Sauber. Years of hard work and months of negotiation had paid off.

That was an interesting day. Both your families were sitting together in the Leclerc's living room. You were sitting between Charles and Arthur, playing games on the TV. After boasting about winning agains the two of them in Mario Cart, you slumped against the sofa, not wanting to play anymore.

Before the two brothers started the new game, Charles got up and stood in the middle of the room, calling for everyone's attention.

"As you all know, we've been trying to figure out a deal for Formula 1", he started, referring to himself and his manager. "And I'm going to be joining Sauber next year!"

Shouts of excitement were all that could be heard for the next few minutes, everyone overjoyed for the young boy who had spent his entire life working towards this very goal.

You were the first to get up and hug him, squealing in delight at the news. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, everyone else in the family forming a big group hug around the two of you.

That was months ago. Now, the two of you stood in his room, 2 weeks before the start of the new season. Charles had to go to the airport early next morning, joining the team for a few days in the simulator. However, as normal, he had left packing till the very last minute.

He'd called you over a few hours ago, freaking out over what to pack and what to leave behind. You went over, entering his room to see clothes scattered everywhere. Rolling your eyes, you start directing him, telling him to clean up while you sort through the piles to figure out what he needs.

Over an hour later, the two of you fall on the bed, tired after having run all over the house to find everything Charles needed. Everything was done, packed up in the suitcase that would accompany him around the world.

Too late to sleep, the two of you opted to stay in his room and talk, whiling away the few hours before he had to head to the airport.

"My god Y/N, marry me will you?"

Blushing in response, you turn to face him. "What?"

Oblivious as he was, Charles had absolutely no idea of your growing crush on him. It had been going on for years, but you never said anything to him, too scared to ruin your friendship.

You were already the subject of teasing from both Lorenzo and Arthur, who had been blackmailed into not telling Charles. Pascale and your own parents hadn't yet commented on the relationship, choosing to let young love play out.

Charles had no idea, none at all. Never had he made any move that suggested he knew or felt the same way. Hence, a proposal was definitely not what you expected when you walking into his house earlier in the day.

"I don't know what I would do without you Y/N. Honestly Fred would've killed me if I showed up with only half the things I needed."

You let out a small chuckle. "We are a bit too young to get married, no?"

He turns back to face the ceiling. "I guess so."

2 hours later, you found yourself waving him off as he entered the terminal, heading to the Sauber headquarters for a week before pre-season testing, your heart still beating faster any time you thought of the conversation that had taken place.

── 20 years old

Charles was drunk.

It was a night out in Monaco. Most of the drivers could be found in the club, packed together, dancing and drinking following the grand prix earlier in the day.

Charles hadn't finished in a good position, meaning he was more than eager to drink the night away. You, tired after a day at the paddock, decided to go home instead.

From the moment he got the first drink down, all he could talk about was you. He would go around to all the drivers, asking them if they had seen how pretty you looked earlier today, or telling them a story about something you did as a child.

"Have I told you about the time we were matching on halloween?"

"Y/N got in so much trouble in school that day."

"She was so excited when she got to meet her favourite singer today!"

He was smitten, all of them knew it, and so they sat there and listened with smirks on their faces. Finally, tired of all the whining, Pierre dropped off Charles at your apartment.

Waking up to a phone call and multiple knocks on your door, you walked into your living room, quickly opening the door to see a grinning Pierre at your door, Charles leaning against him.

"He was being annoying, you can keep him", the frenchman says, tilting his head in Charles direction. "He's drunk."

"I can see that", you mutter, still slightly annoyed at the fact that you were woken up in the middle of the night, but grateful that Charles hadn't ended up walking the streets of Monaco alone.

The drunk man stumbled into your arms, waiting patiently for you to finish thanking Pierre who swiftly headed back to the club.

So, at around 1 in the morning, you found yourself awake and half carrying Charles to the sofa. He fell against it, leaning back and closing his eyes as you went to get a glass of water.

You see his face light up when you enter the room. Leaving the glass on the table for him to drink, you go get some pillows from your room.

Coming back, you see that he had already finished his water, and was looking at you intently.

"Tu es si belle. Have I ever told you that?" you are so beautiful

"Oui, et tu est tout aussi beau" yes, and you are just as handsome

Your crush still existed, perhaps even more so than before. It was impossible to deny the fact that he had only grown more attractive in the last few years. However, knowing it was just his drunk self talking, you chose the ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn't reply, watching as you set everything up comfortably before lying back. Just as you're about to leave to switch off the light, he grabs your hand, forcing you to turn around.

"Marry me Y/N."

The surprise on your face was as clear as day, but Charles's drunk self seemed to see right past it. He kept his eyes on your own, waiting for a response.

"How about you take me out on a date first?" you laugh in response, fluffing up the pillow and placing a blanket on his body. He falls asleep within seconds, and you sport a small smile as you watched him, before making your way to the comfort of your own bed.

The next day, you woke up to breakfast in bed. A stack of pancakes accompanied by grinning Charles and a note that read "Will you go out with me?"

Regardless to say, the date went amazing. It was simple, just the two of you hanging out in your favourite places in Monaco, drinking coffee and making jokes.

It was only a month later when Charles officially asked you to be his girlfriend during a movie night at home, to which you promptly replied a yes. And just another month after that when you heard him whisper a small "je t'aime" as you drifted off to sleep in a hotel room.

── 24 years old

Ferrari had finally made a good car.

It was the final race of the season and the battle raged on between Charles and Max. Both had an equal chance of winning the championship, Charles only 2 points behind Max in the leaderboard. Whoever won this race would win it all.

You were sitting in the garage, gaze not shifting from the screen in front of you. You watched the two drivers continuously switch positions, going from P1 to P2 and vice versa.

Max having lead for the last few laps, you stood up in joy when Charles overtook him at the end of the penultimate lap. Just 1 more lap. Charles was one lap away from being the World Champion.

You watched as Max's rear tire locked up in the second sector, increasing the gap to 2 seconds. The joy in your heart was bubbling up as Charles got closer and closer to the finish line. Joining the rest of the engineers, you leaned over the railings, watching as he crossed the finish line.

Immediately you ran to the pit wall, grabbing a pair of headphones.

"Amour you did it! World Champion!" You couldn't contain your delight, tears of joy falling as you go around hugging everyone in sight.

"Oh my god. We did it! We did it!" You heard his voice come through. "Thank you to everyone oh my god. I cannot believe it. I love you." Your grin becomes even wider at the last line directed towards you.

"Je t'aime Charles. Oh my god you did it."

Shouts of "yes" and "oh my god" were all that could be heard for the next few seconds. You stood there and listened, knowing just how much Charles deserved it. He had worked every day, either by himself in the gym or with the engineers, figuring out strategies for the next race. He deserved this more than anyone else.

Leaving the headphones near one of the many computers, you run to where the rest of the engineers were gathering. The red car parks at P1, and you look on in unfiltered glee as Charles jumps out, raising his hands in celebration.

He runs over to you, grabbing your face before pulling you in for a kiss. Knowing that there were people watching you, he keeps its short, but its passionate nonetheless.

When he pulls away, you see the shine in his eyes, helmet still on as everyone working at Ferrari rushes over to pat him on the back or give a hug.

Arthur, Lorenzo and his mother are there as well. The former having come P3 in his race earlier in the day, and the latter two having made the trip from Monaco to watch the climatic ending to the season.

You stand to the side with them when Charles heads to the cooldown room, talking to Pascale.

"Herve serait fiere, si fiere" herve would be proud, so proud.

"Et Jules aussi", you add. and jules too "He won it for them."

She smiled. Not too long after, an engineer walked over to you, directing you to the stage. He claimed that Charles wanted you to watch from closer.

5 minutes later, standing off to the side, you look on as he is handed the championship trophy. Cheering alongside everyone else, the delight is evident on your face as he raises it above his head.

The celebrations start. You watch as the engineers filter in, each holding their own bottle of champagne. Catching your eyes, Charles walks over, pulls you up on the podium with him, immediately drenching you in champagne. The celebrations continue as more and more people join.

He hugs you tight, blocking your line of sight. The noise is overwhelming, but in that moment, it's just the two of you. You hug him back, whispering in his ear, unaware of everyone else leaving the podium. I love you, I am so proud of you.

When it's just the two of you left, Charles pulls back. You look around in surprise, turning back to Charles to tell him to get off the podium, gasping when you realise what he was doing.

He was down on one knee, looking at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. In his hand was a small box that held the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. The diamond in the center shone under the bright lights, but nothing could distract you from Charles.

"Veux-tu m'epouser, mon amour?" will you marry me, my love

You nod almost immediately, tears still falling as your hands cover your mouth in shock. Yes, yes, yes. You get down to Charles's level, hugging him tighter than ever before. You hear him chuckle in your ear, kissing your neck as he too feels a few tears fall out.

You aren't sure how long the two of you stay that way, finding comfort in each others embrace, but you are startled when you hear the roar of the crowd. Leaning back, you can't help but laugh when you see all the drivers and thousands of fans clapping and celebrating your engagement.

Arthur is standing next to Pierre, the both of them hooting and cheering, knowing just how much behind-the-scenes encouragement it took for Charles to agree to proposing.

Looking back at Charles, you find him already looking at you. Giving him a kiss, you let him put the ring on your finger, cheek's hurting from how much you had smiled in the last hour.

It slips on with ease, and the diamonds seem to sparkle even more under the bright lights.

"Only took 4 times for you to say yes, eh?"

[daydreaming-nerd]

OMG I need pregnant reader x bat boys

That first one was so good thank you for that!! 🩷🩷

Pregnant Reader x Bat Boys (drabble)

This is part 2 to You Want A Baby?

AN: Ahh this was so highly requested I'm sorry it took so long. Also i've never really done a drabble and this is defiantly too long but I wanted to feed y'all as best I could.

Warnings: Pregnancy (duh), child birth, talks of sex?, not proof read (sry after writing Young Love Old Money 5 last night my hands hurt)

Of course your mates got you pregnant on the first try. They were the three most powerful males in the Night Court.

The day you found out was like any other, you were quietly reading while Cassian and Azriel were in Windhaven and Rhys was busy doing paperwork.

The sickness had been building all day and at finally come to it's precipice.

After about an hour of throwing up you went to see Madja who confirmed you were indeed pregnant.

You wanted to run home and tell Rhys right away but it didn't seem fair to your other two mates

So you warded yourself to keep your scent hidden and waited till Azriel and Cassian got home.

You sat on the edge of the bed the waiting for the boys to come to bed, clad in nothing but my black silk nightgown (this one was a present from Rhys)

The boys stalked in and the picture of me sitting innocently on our shared bed had them taking their shirts off.

It wasn't uncommon for you all to release built up tension after a long hard day, especially when the boys had to deal with Devlon.

"Wait there's something I wanna show you first," you smile standing up.

"Something you want to show us?" Rhys laughed knowing that when it came to the bedroom it was often the other way around.

You couldn't keep from smirking as you let the ward around me drop, my scent filling the room.

They inhaled long and slow before their eyes snapped open.

"You're?" Azriel asked.

"Pregnant," you smile watching as a million emotions float across their faces.

A beat of silence passes and then...

"WOOO HOOO!" Cassian roared. "We did it brothers!" he boasted clapping each of them on the back.

All of them came over to me to give me sniff, as if your new scent was addicting. You had to crane your neck up to meet all their happy faces.

"How far along are you?" Rhys asked caressing my face.

"Not very, only 6 weeks," you. smile feeling their warm hands roam my body.

"Well you certainly smell good," Azriel smiles burying his nose in my hair.

"Really?" you ask.

"YES," they all said in unison.

Cassian's hands find the hem of the night gown and start to lift it up peering underneath curiously.

"Cassain if you even think about putting your dick anywhere near her right now I will fucking kill you," Rhys growls.

"I'm not I'm trying to see if she's showing yet," Cassian said, eyes squinting.

"Cass it's too early for her to be showing," Azriel laughed at his brothers antics.

"Well she defiantly is, take a look." Cassian smiled pulling me flush to him and lifting my nightgown more so his brothers could see.

Rhys and Azriel squinted their eyes, clearly trying to see what wasn't there as Cass slid a hand over my belly.

"Cassian darling I think that's just my dinner," you laugh.

"speaking of dinner did you eat enough?" Rhys asked.

and so it began.

Ever since the boys had found out all chaos had erupted.

At first they wanted you to stay in the townhouse at all times. Literally locking you up and throwing away the key

That idea took you a long time to talk them out of but eventually you did.

Then came Rhys arguing that you needed at least 5 wards. Which Cassian and Azriel objected to as they wanted full access to you AND the baby.

Evetually you all settled on one ward. Strong enough to keep threats at bay, but weak enough so Cass and Az could touch you and your bump whenever they liked.

Speaking of bump, Cassian was determined to do a bump update everyday.

The man was DYING to see you with a bump.

"You think the baby will have wings?" you asked innocently while we all laid in bed.

Every night it was a fight for who got to sleep next to you as you unfortunately had an odd number of mates.

"Of course it'll have wings, look at it's fathers," Azriel smirked rubbing a hand over your belly.

"I don't know I wasn't in my Illyrian form when it was conceived," Rhysand states, his words reverberation through me from where my head was perched on his chest.

"Pfft please, I already told you it's mine," Cassian boasted from behind Rhys, clearly being an instigator since he wasn't getting to sleep next to me tonight.

"Cassian," Azriel warns.

"I know , I know. We don't care who got her knocked up just so long as she IS knocked up," Cassian smirks.

"Okay but what if the baby doesn't have wings?" I ask once more.

"Then we'll fuck another one into you until you have one that does," Rhys smiled pressing a kiss to my brow

"Oh we're putting another one in her either way. I want a whole litter of children." Cassian divuldged.

"You want that princess?" Azriel asked rubbing lazy circles over my barley there bump.

"Yeah I think I do." I smile.

The boys were territorial when you were barley showing, but the second the numerous dresses Rhys bought you couldn't cover the bump that's when things got scary.

The shadows. The fucking shadows

They were fucking everywhere.

Azriel had been freaking out ever since your guys walk the other day.

You had been taking in the fresh air of spring when a unknowing passerby slammed into you nearly knocking you over.

"WATCH IT!" Azriel screamed in his face his grip on the mans shirt like a vice.

The poor shopkeeper just about wet himself before running off.

"Now was that really necessary?" you asked, crumbs falling out of your mouth from the 3rd chocolate croissant you had eaten that day.

"He nearly knocked down my pregnant mate, he's lucky I let him off with a warning," Azriel murmured clearly still pissed.

"You Illyrian babies," I roll my eyes finsishing off the croissant.

Azriel just sighed and dug his hand into the paper sack to pull out my 4th pastry.

Ever since then his shadows seemed to follow you everywhere.

If you dropped something? The shadows would pick it up.

If you had troubles walking? there was always a dark mass helping you to the bathroom for the 10th time that day.

Every time the baby kicked? The shadows swirled around you to make sure you were okay.

And boy did that baby kick...

Cassian was the first to feel it.

It was a rainy night at home, Cassian was sleeping next to your belly whispering sweet nothings to it when it happened. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and you nearly did too from the pain.

"Ahh!" you hissed in pain.

"Darling what is it? Are you hurt?" Rhys fussed, leaving his desk to be there in an instant.

"What did you do?" Azriel growled at Cassian who was still staring wide eyed at your bump.

"I'm fine he didn't do anything. The baby is just kicking." I grit out feeling another thump.

I blindly reach out and grab one of my mates hands and press it to my stomach.

I watched as the scarred hand flinched at the kick.

"Oh my god I can feel it," Azriel beamed, his eyes glassing over.

"Move I want to feel," Rhys ordered

Azriel was too hypotized to care.

"I am your High Lord, move" Rhys ordered once more and I swear the room shook.

"I'm getting kinda tired of that phrase too aren't you Cass?" Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah she's our mate too," cassian grumbled.

They spent the night taking turns getting to feel the baby which became a nightly occurrence.

Out of all your mates Rhys was the most doting. He had an entire wing built onto the townhouse for the baby.

He even used his magic to enchant the ceiling of the nursery to look like the night sky so it would be starfall in there every night.

Rhys didn't like to admit it, but he loved baby shopping with you.

"Oh Rhys look at this one can we get it?" you smile holding up a little onesie.

"Yes darling of course," he chuckled in amusement, he had probably heard that phrase a million times.

Your eyes scanned the shop of onesies and cribs, you already nearly everything in the store. But the shop owner always made sure to let you know when there was a new shipment as she knew Rhys would buy his pregnant mate just about anything she asked for.

"Oh my god Rhys please the baby is going to need this," I shout holding up the bat plushy. "Please, please, please, pleaseeeee"

Rhys laughs walking over to me to take my hands in his.

"Darling how many times do I have to tell you? You can have whatever you want." he smiles placing a hand on my bump and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Fae labor was no joke, there wasn't a single aspect that didn't hurt like hell.

Rhys didn't send Cassian or Azriel away on any missions in the weeks leading up to your due date so they could be there.

Your water broke when you were standing in the kitchen reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

The scream you let out is enough to have Cassian running in from the other room.

"What is it princess? Are you okay?" He asked kneeling down to where I sat on the floor.

"The baby is coming," I winced through the pain, taking Cassian's hand in mine and squeezing with all my might.

That was the good thing about having big, strong Illyrian's as mates. They were fucking durable.

"oh shit," Cassain murmered his eyes searching for some kind of answer of what to do. "RHYS! AZRIEL! THE BABY IS COMING!"

My other two mates winnowed there are lighting speed from where ever they were in the house.

It wasn't long until Rhys had me in his arms winnowing us all to Madja.

"Help her please," he pleaded, my cries of pain clearly affecting him.

Madja had Rhys bring me into the birthing suite and lay me down. I could see the worry on all my mates eyes as they watched me write in pain, sweat grazing my brow.

"How can we help?" Azriel pleaded.

"You can't, you must leave us to work," she said referring to the other healers already pressing cold towels to my face.

"Over my dead body do I leave her side right now," Cassian grumbled.

"Do you want her to die? You'll only be in the way general. Use your head." she argued ushering them out and locking the doors.

The hours in between the closing of the doors and finally giving birth were brutal, not only for yo but for your mates.

They sat outside the door and listened to your screams the entire time.

Azriel nearly ripped his hair out from the sounds of them.

They nearly jumped to their feet at the sound of a baby crying from inside.

But then they heard you a screaming again.

Any happiness died out.

After a few minutes they heard the baby crying again and your screams stopped.

15 minutes later Madja came out holding not one but two small bundles in her arms.

"congratulations, you are the proud fathers of two healthy baby boys," she beamed.

Twins

Rhys and Cassian took the twin boys in their arms, as Azriel was too scared to touch them at first.

"They have wings," Cassian beamed running his hand over the tiny wings.

"Is she?" Rhys asked Madja.

"The mother is perfectly healthy. She needs to nurse the babies, but she insisted that I bring them to you first." Madja smiled.

"can we see her?" Azriel asked.

"Of course you can," Madja said.

The boys carried the twin babies in to see you once more.

You reached out your hands for the one in Rhys arms, the oldest, by a few minutes. He gave him to you and thankfully he latched right away.

"You did so well mate," Azriel said placing a kiss on your forehead.

"How did you boys manage to put twins in me on the first try?" You rasped out, voice still horse.

"If you recall it was no small feat," Cassain smiled.

After feeding them both you slept soundly.

While Cassain and Rhys might've been the first to hold your sons, Azriel was the first one to fall asleep with them. One in each arm.

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