#As you could guess they mean a lot to me and I totally am not obsessive

[impeccablebackside]

do the queens like naked/very intimate cuddling after sex?♡

That is a good question anon. I always welcome thoughts like that. As much as sex is great (and it would be great), The aftercare and intimacy is so much more fulfilling in a lot of respects.

I have answered a question similar to this in the past that mainly dealt with non-sexual cuddling, so please read it for some spectacular thoughts that answer your ask. Even with all that information though, I still can give you more sexual based thoughts related to this if that is cool. Some of the below ideas will still be nice cuddling though. Cannot have enough of that.

Here it is by queens, so snuggle up:

Victoria essentially enjoys the intimacy of sex more than any other part of it. That connection between her and another person (or just her with herself) is an important aspect for Vic, as she feels appreciated and loved in a distinct way. For her partner to be absolutely infatuated with her, with a look of utter love and desire in their eyes after they plough her is rewarding. Giving her their all out of complete need to demonstrate how much they care. That tenderness resulting from this is a highlight.

When with Plato, their love and companionship during and after sex is so intensely wrapped in each motion and moan that is would be impossible to separate what is based on love and lust. She is delicate with her man, pressing the sweetest of kisses to his skin as rewards for efforts, and they are sometimes just as special as the fucking was. They mutually send shivers throughout the other at all times. There are reassuring touches, looks, and asks all throughout their intimacy. They both have that feeling, but especially Plato, where they feel so lucky and in love. It is the infatuation and wanting a physical connection that steers this, not the lust of it. The need to embrace someone you love and give yourself to them. It is just so delicate and intimate. They love each other so much and nothing is more beautiful than that.

Oftentimes simple cuddling is more than sufficient, but other times they both want more. They are respectful of the other, but still have a hard time keeping their paws to themselves. Plato will extend his gentle caresses to Vic's chest, playing lightly with her nipples in efforts that always elicit a gasp or two. Emboldened, he will follow a path down and trace the outside of her pussy with his paw. She is still sensitive, and the little touches of pleasure send shocks through her. Without much delay, he fingers her quickly, smiling to himself as she cums on his fingers with a surprised yelp and her legs shaking.

Sometimes Vic takes the lead, lightly toying with Plato's cock as they bask in their afterglow, the whole whispering praises to him. Her efforts quickly get him hard again, and the slow movement of her wrist combined with her words makes him cum over again. If Vic is feeling especially adventurous, she will instead slink down and wrap her lips around his cock and go down on him. His chest will heave as he cums as much as he can give onto her tongue.

For Rumple, she always closes the gap to start between herself and her man Mungo after sex. She brings her chest against his back and nuzzles her head against his neck as if to console him. Wrapping her small frame around him, she spoons her special guy, something not unusual in their relationship. Even after this, she will still embrace Mungo more, cuddling into him as she gets comfortable. Pressed like that, they share in the same air and warmth that only they can know. She cozies up with him and they eventually fall alseep coiled together.

The quiet purrs of his little companion as she sleeps are so special to Mungo. He will often doze off after her, sometimes quietly telling her that he loves her when she is asleep. Drifting off alongside her, he relaxes even more into her touch, taking in the warmth and security she provides for him.

If she is still feeling frisky, Rumple rarely hesitates to tease Mungo until he is hard again. Utterly spent, he often cannot muster more, but will for his little love. Whatever he has left in him is hers, and she will jerk or suck him until he cums for the last time that night. Otherwise, she cannot help but play with herself even after getting fucked, and will finger herself while cuddling with Mungo.

With Vic, she tends to end up hugging the other queen as they face one another. Little smiles and laughs always escape their mouths as they come down together and enjoy the other's close company. Their relationship is not only of lust and love, but mostly one of tremendous friendship. They cherish being around the other. Cuddling afterwards has its rewards too, as Rumple tends to be a bit more bold with Vic. She will run a paw along the white queen’s lithe body, sometimes finding her pussy to give a quick rub or finger that jolts Vic with surprise pleasure. Given she is sensitive already, the bit of extra attention is overstimulating. Other times they will press their hips into the other, needing more of a physical connection.

With someone aside from Mungo or Vic, there is not much aftercare. She essentially cleans up herself quickly and is on her way. The love is just not there for much else.

For Tanto, she prefers to have any cuddling afterwards to be removed from sex. Embracing the other person wholeheartedly, she enjoys the revelry of contemplating what just transpired instead of tarnishing it with what could be seen as additional trivialities. For her, a mutually decided natural stopping point is a sign that everything was accomplished and perhaps then some. She will still lovingly run her paws along her lover as they spoon, but it is with a sense of belonging to their physical self. Tanto loves when that energy is reciprocated for her as well. Little is a fulfilling to her as being with another's being.

Cass favours becoming entangled with her lover after getting fucked, and it can sometimes escalate to them dry(?) humping and grinding into the other to get just a bit more out of the tryst. If the lust does not quite dissipate fast enough, it will invite another round or a quick release. For Cass, she always welcomes extra attention to her puffy pussy, and some firm rubbing or fingering will push her into overstimulation and get her heat soaking with her creamy wetness. Some spanking on her perfect ass in tandem is welcomed too. Specifically if she does not get some cum on her, the sleek queen will give a sultry handjob or blowjob to ensure she gets s little something for being a cumslut. Any covering or taste on her lips is worth it.

Deme, assuming everything went as it should (and why would it not in all fairness), much prefers to be cuddled and hugged after sex. All of the physicality and pleasure of sex is taxing to an extent, and she likes to take the time after to recover and unwind even more. Above all else, she is simply happy to be held and loved.

With Bomba, she is well taken care of by Tugger afterwards. Behind some of that bravado is a caring person who is prepared to ensure everyone around him is living their best life. He will lay her down softly and embrace her while they recover, as well as help clean her up if things got messier. Not all of this is necessarily done without a bit of selflessness though, as he is always on the lookout for some praise from his lover. He will massage her body and try to loosen her up even more after taking her apart. He also plays with her boobs after if he did not give them attention prior, just because he can and they deserve it. Otherwise, she is perfectly content with getting lost in his mane while whispering sweet nothings into his ears.

As with others, Jenny likes to keep the cuddling post-sex mostly carefree and a means of catching her breath. She still has stamina to go at like the best of them, but it takes longer for her to level off after she has expelled much of energy. Not that her partners differ much. In fact, they are usually knocked right on their arses after fucking her and are appreciative she is not looking for more.

For Jelly, it is hard for any sort of cuddling to not devolve into a bit of debauchery. Intimate times leave her getting bit or pinched by her partner(s), who love to hear her moan as they feel her up. Nipple attention and dirty talk permeates the before, during, and after with them. After sex, it is not as likely, but AGus still likes seeing her react. If she is not quite satisfied, she can and will turn the tides a touch and ride her partner's face. This is especially true if she dresses up as Griddle.

[importantpuppystarfish]

I fell in love with my sister

Male reader x Yuna

Warnings: Incest, totally blood related siblings

I had never thought I would fell in love with my own sister.

Maybe its because I have been watching too much stepsister porn which leaded me to have the same attraction over my own blood related sister. I had always wished I had a sister to fuck and luckily I found my sister attractive. My love for her has grown stronger ever since she became a member of Itzy.

Her busy schedule as an idol means I rarely get to see her at home; coming by once in a while to spend time with her family. I know its totally wrong to think of her like that but the way she dances and reveals a lot of skin lately makes me uncontrollable to have feelings for her. I have mastrubated quite a few times watching her fancams. My phone gallery is full of her hot fancams & images which I use to imagine nasty stuff. I’m sure plenty of guys think the same way about her, but I’m fortunate that she’s my sister.

I am not even sure if she is a virgin or not, who knows, her company managers might have taken some advantage of her body. I don't know if she feels the same for me. I am left wondering; could she possibly like me?

On a certain night, within the summer hiatus, she reappeared at home. She was dressed in extraordinarily short clothes that exposed her sexy waist. Our eyes locked, and a profound connection seemed to pass between us. We stare into each others soul through our eyes. The home seemed to be empty. Yuna asked curiously "Yo Oppa? Where's mom and dad?". “They’re currently away to village on some business,” I replied. Yuna’s lips curled into a smile as she bit them, displaying a seductive expression. "Guess we gotta be alone and sleeping together then!" said Yuna. I felt a surge of motivation and realized this might be my opportunity to express my feelings for her.

After she took a bath and changed into a T-shirt and shorts, the fragrance of her body was pleasantly appealing. Her body smell was better than flowers and it was turning me on so hard. We cooked the dinner together and had a few talks about our recent lives, how is it going and our memories when we used to live together. While preparing the meal together, we exchanged glances. I look a peek at her tits and ass a lot. It seemed she was aware of my gaze, yet she seemed comfortable with it.

After having dinner and brushing our teeth, it was time for bed. We both felt a subtle attraction between us. I went to toilet to pee. Yeah, I always had a habit of not locking my phone with a PIN or passcode since my parents did not know how to use smartphone so I thought it wasn't necessary. After coming out from the washroom, I realized I was in a difficult situation when I noticed Yuna was browsing through my gallery. She seem to be shocked to discover what she found.

Yuna ~ "So is this the reason you've been peeking at my body while we were cooking? Are you somehow sexually attracted over me?"

I started feeling submissive and scared at what she said.. She seem to be not angry but waiting for my reply.

Yuna speaks again ~ "It's ok.. I understand how boys feel, I know what would've been going through."

Yuna starts approaching towards me. Putting her hands over my arms, head to head looking at each other eyes. She leaned and kiss at my lips aggressively.. Our lips meeting each other aggressively. Her eyes closed but mines open in shock. The whole room was quite, we started getting sweaty due to tensions. She started sliding her tongue inside my mouth leading for a french kiss.. We kissed romantically exchanging our tongues and salivas through our mouth. The kiss lasted pretty long. She opened her tshirt and was wearing a simple bra. Oh god damn she looked like an angel. Yuna starts unbuttoning my pants and said in a freaky way smiling "damn its hard, isn't it? looks like the size is huge".. She made a wow expression in an impressed way looking at my dick.. I was shy and nervous what to do.. This was the time i feel it is heaven.. I never imagined my sister in this position in real life..

Yuna starts to put my cock inside her mouth, she started licking the head with her tongue and starts sucking it like a pro.. It seemed that she was already experienced, she sucked it very well with hesitation and i was moaning really loud in heaven.. I literally cummed inside her mouth that time without permission. Yuna seemed to swallow the cum inside her mouth already. She was smiling. I start making my first move by unbuttoning her bra. She helped me unbutton it, the bra fell off.

She seem to have pink nipples since her skin was really pale. Her tits were massive enough to squeeze really good with my hand.. I start squeezing her boobs, trying to put it on my mouth. She laughed a bit because i was nervous.. She lay down on the bed, allowing me to suck her tits. She put her hands on my head, moaning in joy.. I started exploring her body more downwards.. I started licking her belly, navel & thighs.. Her skin is so fucking delicious.. It was so warm. As i move more downwards, i pulled down her panties. Her pussy looks like flowers! How clean and shaved it is! It was damn wet as well.. I started eating her pussy without hesitation.. I can hear Yuna moaning.. She locked my face and mouth inside her pussy with her thighs & legs.. Eventually she was enjoying and calling me for a kiss to taste herself

We kissed passionately, enjoying each others breathe. Now I started getting out of control and wanting to slide my cock inside her. I started fucking her, it was my first time ever. It felt so good pounding her. Yuna seemed to enjoy her brother's dick inside her. I wanted to cum inside. "Yuna, do you think I should do this?" "Yes i want ur cum inside me oppa!" replied Yuna in excitement. "Oppa please! I want ur cum inside me! Breed me!"

I couldn't control anymore hearing at her sexual seductive words. I instantly cummed inside her without a 2nd thought. I leaned to her face for a kissed. We both French kissed passionately.. Laying both besides each other in the bed. Its late middle night.. All silent in the room.. We can hear our huge breathing. I asked Yuna "What about our parents? What will we explain about our children or should we do an abortion? "

Yuna replied in an odd way "I guess we have to hide them. Lets live together in a another place and start a family. I love you Oppa!". From that day, Yuna is my sister, my wife and the mother of my children!

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi, could I get a swiss roll with a figgy duff and a side of champagne served by Max Verstappen?

Thank you in advance 🫶

bakery menu!!

want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you and everything you wish to suggest! requests are still open, but updates won't be posted from sept 23rd-29th 2024 due to a vacation! but feel free to submit orders for when i return! for this lovely anon i hope you love this fic, i am very proud of how everything turned out! thank you again for ordering and have a great day! <3

swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + figgy duff ("if i buy it, will you stop pouting?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, stuffed animal abuse, couch sex, jealousy, doggy style, daddy kink

max knew that he could have next to anything he wanted. his entire world was his oyster before thirty. his salary would make some gasp, but it simply made him grin. he pushed himself to his limits to get on top, and he wasn't stopping now.

but even the greats had their weaknesses. and for max that came in the form of soft eyes and softer lips with a deep likeness for hello kitty.

"is this one hello kitty? it looks like a rabbit?" max asked as he looked over at your phone screen to see what you were looking at. or rather in what ways were you going to use and abuse his credit card for the week.

in all fairness you could've abused his finances a lot harder and max would've been fine with it. he could retire from racing tomorrow and still spoil you till the sun burnt out. you still tried to find deals and coupons on things you wanted him to buy you. sometimes you still got hot in the face when you saw the total of a shopping cart.

you were raised in such a different world than him and max liked that. but, while he had a weak spot for your softness. you had a weak spot for stuffed animals. especially sanrio.

"no, no. they're not all hello kitty. this one is cinnamoroll, and he's a dog."

max looked at the screen a little closer, "looks like a rabbit to me."

you pointed at the screen, "no, no. look at his ears, those are dog ears." max nodded, still not totally convinced. who would draw a dog like that. but when you saw the price of the large stuffed animal, you pouted. and max noticed you were pouting.

he took the phone from you and when you tried to get your phone back. he placed his free hand on your forehead. he said, "if i buy it, will you stop pouting? i can afford it, treasure."

"but the import fees."

"they'll be paid." he added the stuffed animal to the cart. he didn't even look at the price in all fairness before he handed the phone back to you. you pouted further and max leaned in to kiss you on the lips, "enough of that. what else do you want?" then rubbed the top of your head with his large hand.

honestly, he knew very little about sanrio or hello kitty. he knew one time he kicked one of them off the bed in an attempt to get comfy after a long double header and you whined until he picked it up off the floor and apologized to the stuffed toy. but, anything for you, he supposed.

the plush toy along with some others arrived within a few weeks. max didn't really notice much of it until he caught you on the couch earlier that day with your arms wrapped around the stuffed toy. he hadn't realized how big it was, a little over a meter in size. it was soft with those long rabbit ears. but you were snuggled up with it watching television. you looked cute even with the t-shirt you wore slowly riding up over your stomach.

it made max stop in his tracked and divert from his path to the kitchen. you looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. he said to you, "everything you hoped for?"

you nodded, "yeah, now i have something to cuddle when you're gone." your comment was innocent, but it stirred something in max. he got closer and you kept your gaze on him. you smiled a little bit when he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"oh? replacing me so soon?" he asked as he reached towards you and pushed your t-shirt a little higher. you hid your face a little further into the stuffed animals, "oh no, no, my love. don't hide from me." it was easy to get your shirt off of you.

he licked his lips while your breasts pressed against the stuffed animal. he knew he'd have you whining soon enough and it curled something in his gut at the sight of you. you were amazing. the perfect baby girl that max could ever have. while he was fine with you buying what you desired, he didn't want to be replaced with a stuffed toy.

because no stuffed toy could compare to your daddy.

"you better not replace me, my love. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you. so there is no replacing me. i paid for these." he said as he pushed down your shorts and exposed the pretty panties underneath, "and i paid for your little friend." maybe max was a fool for being jealous over a stuffed animal, but your sudden attached to it made something curl in his brain.

you were soon naked and pressed against the stuffed animal. you looked over your shoulder at him and he pressed your face into the cinnamoroll plush, or whatever its name was. you whined, "daddy!"

"shh, shh. i need to make sure this rabbit knows who you belong to. or he's being sent back to wherever he came from."

you arched your back to pretty for him as you tried to argue, "it's a dog!"

he smacked your ass before he pulled away to get his t-shirt off. you behaved and kept your face pressed against the stuffed animal. he got out of his pants and underwear before he pressed his cock up against your ass. he said, "it could be a turtle for all i can. but, i need to make sure that you don't go running off with a stuffed toy while i'm away." he kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed himself up against you.

you whimpered and held onto the toy tighter, "daddy, please." then moaned when he sank his cock into you. it was true, he did pay for everything. you were there to look pretty and be the perfect girl for him.

"so pretty." he said, "i worry about you when i leave, you're so soft and could get into a lot of trouble." he groaned a little bit as he started to find his pace as he fucked you on the couch.

"i can be a good girl." you replied, you held onto the stuffed toy and drooled a little bit against it as max's cock hit up against some of your sweetest spots. your toes curled in your socks as he found his rhythm.

"i know. i know." he said, "but you should be cuddling me. not this toy. so i have to show it who's in charge." you couldn't help but giggle, but they were soon silenced when he pressed himself further against you and took you by the face and kissed you deeply on the lips.

his thrusts were fast, and it forced you further up against the couch. the kisses were hot and made you feel warm all over. your sweet noises even while you kissed made max run hot. he knew that only he could make you feel this good. he knew that he ruined you, and that you'd always yearn for his cock.

you drooled a little more when the kiss broke and your face found comfortable against the fur of the toy. you clung to it tightly for some kind of support but max had full control of the pace. you felt a little hazy in the brain as he continued to fuck you.

"i love you." you said softly.

"and i love you." he replied, "can't help but be a little jealous sometimes. anyone would be lucky to have you, but i have you all to myself. everything you own belongs to me, paid with my credit card. maybe i should make you wear my name at all times so nobody gets the wrong idea." his words were hot and flooded with brain with a heightened pleasure.

max continued to thrust against you. soon his pace became quicker and rougher. he pressed you further against the couch and the toy. he kissed you once more, it was rough against your lips as you came around his cock.

you clung to the stuffed animal as you tensed up. you panted through the kiss as you nails dug into the plush toy, only loosening your grip when you came down from your climax.

face pressed once more into the soft fur as max rocked himself against you, almost bouncing you on his cock. he pressed into you further before he finished inside of you. he shuddered as he finished. eventually he slowed down until a stop then pulled out. he panted heavily and used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

he admired your backside before he put you onto your back. he looked at the stuffed animal, the embroidered eyes looked at him and he smiled. he said to the toy, "she's mine."

you placed your hands on his face and said, "c'mon, max! he isn't going to replace you!"

"he won't when i'm finished with you." <3

[murdockcastleslut]

𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔗𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠

synopsis: y/n is an up and coming influencer, who has established her own with thriving youtube channel and podcast. when she releases a new episode with her new co-host and special guests, things get messy.

a rafe cameron smau! |part eight| part nine |part ten|

a/n: This is a long one for you guys :) thank you to @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 for letting me annoy the shit out of you as i bounce ideas off of y'all.

Off Topic Official Transcript

12:30 

Cleo: so Rafe, you did a recent shoot with loewe. 

Y/n: [you bite your lip subtly] oh my god yeah, i remember hearing Sarah talk about it. you looked really good. 

Rafe: oh yeah? [he raises his eyebrow] thank you. it was really fun, the crew and photographer were great. i’ve always wanted to do a shoot with them and i was so grateful when i got the chance. 

Rafe: i know it’s yalls’ podcast but if you could work with any brand, which would it be? 

Cleo: easy, easy man. either gucci or miu miu. 

Y/n: i think for me it would probably be ysl or prada. 

Rafe: yeah, you’d be a prada girl? [he asks cockily]

Y/n: yeah, haven’t you seen me rock a pair of prada sunnies. i always serve face. [you smile and then give a model face to him and cleo] 

Cleo: that is correct. my girl always looks good, especially in prada. 

Rafe: oh, i have no doubt. [he smiles at you brightly]

26:45

Y/n: [laughing at something Rafe said before hand]

Cleo:[smirks] so rafe, we have this recurring segment of this show called “be mine” and it’s where we ask the guest, what’s their ideal type or what they are looking for in a relationship.

Y/n: [stops laughing and is subtly looking at Cleo with bewilderment] 

Cleo: and since we don’t have more than one guest today, y/n will share with you! 

Y/n: [looks at Cleo with a look of confusion] i will? 

Cleo:[gives her look] 

Y/n: i guess i will be today. 

Rafe: [chuckles at your reaction] i have only been in two really serious relationships and they were both totally different experiences. the first person i'm really good friends with still but that relationship taught me all the things i did want like someone adventurous, kind, and someone who can communicate. in this life we live in the media. i never wanna be the last person to know something about my partner. i think from my last relationship we were very private and i didn’t really mind it but sometimes i wanted to share cute photos of them… [he shifts in the chair and manspreads a bit]

Cleo: [she looks at you and gives you a smirk at the mention at photography]

Rafe (continued): especially since i really like film photography and really i couldn’t share my photos, so i wanna find someone who's comfortable with that for sure. and by no means do i think i am perfect, i think i got somethings to work on but those are just somethings that are really important to me. [he finishes speaking and looks at you for your reaction.]

Cleo: [is smirking in her seat] damn model boy knows what he wants. 

Rafe: [laughs] sometimes if you want something you just gotta put it out there. [he shrugs and smirks]

Cleo: ya know y/n here loves film photography? has a whole account dedicated to it too.

Y/n: [your eyes blunge out hoping she’d be quiet] yeah, i do but it’s nothing. 

Rafe: [smirks and leans forward and places his elbow on the chair arm and places his chin on his knuckles] it’s not, nothing. it’s cute, sweetheart. [he gives you a kind smile] so, what are you looking for? [he points with his chin to you]

Y/n: um… i agree with a lot of what race has to say. i especially feel the same about communication, in my last relationship there was a really big lack of it and that along with cheating was the end of our relationship. 

Rafe: [frowns at the mention that you have been cheated on]

Y/n: So now i think i need someone who is willing to take things slowly and understand that it takes me a second to trust their intentions. but i also really want someone who likes to travel because i love traveling and seeing new places. also my friends have to give the stamp of approval because they are everything to me. [you smile at cleo]

Y/n: but my ideal type, i don’t know, tall, kind, intelligent, passionate, empathetic, and i don’t think it would hurt anyone if he was pretty on the eyes either.[you smile widely] 

Rafe: i think it's really raw and real of you to talk about trust in that way because i feel the same way. 

Cleo: you two have a lot in common huh? 

y/n's phone

taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @charli123456789 @wearemadeofstardust0 @frankoceanluvr11 1 @harrys-housewife @urbrunettebombshell @mayhapsnini i @psychicnatural @aariahnaa @rafeycameronsgf @laniirackssss @cl4uus @honk4emoboyz

[hgfictionwriter]

Take It Slow

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Normally, you're trembling and falling apart under Jessie within minutes; today, it's different. You two take your time instead.

Warnings: Sensual massage (is that a warning?). Fingering. Oral. Sex toy use.

A/N: Reader having a hard time orgasming. Very fluffy smut. Comforting, soft Jessie. Based on this request.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. I'm just - I don't know. I'm having trouble getting there. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Jessie said earnestly, finding your eyes to make sure you understood how serious she was being. She removed her fingers off your clit, but didn't pull away further. "You never have to apologize for something like that. Okay?"

She waited for your reluctant nod before giving you a soft kiss.

"This isn't about me or my ego. Or meeting some kind of made up timeline or goal. It's about being together and - for me - making sure you feel as amazing as you can. I just want to give you what you need, whatever that may be - and if you don't know, that's totally okay, too."

Your shoulders sunk as you sighed. "Thank you," you said as you looked up at her. Your forehead still held tension from your disappointment and frustration with yourself. Jessie kissed your cheek sweetly. You absently stroked the side of her neck with your thumb as you spoke.

"It's not you. I hope you know that. I mean - you've made me cum many times - and hard - before. And I was enjoying it. I'm just feeling off, I guess," you tried to explain, eyes downcast before meeting her attentive gaze again.

Jessie nodded. "That's totally fine. You've had a lot going on this week. And there could be lots of reasons." She searched your eyes before speaking. "Do you want to stop or try again? I am perfectly happy to sit here and cuddle with you, watch a movie, or we can take our time together and find our way. It's entirely up to you."

You looked up at her, now the one to study her features - trying to gauge if there was anything underlying, but all you saw was love and affection. You subconsciously shifted under her, the dull throbbing between your legs making itself known again.

"I want to keep going," you told her.

"You sure? No pressure from me - I swear," she said as she gave you a look.

You leaned up and gave her lower lip a small tug, your hands gripping her firm biceps as you pulled yourself up to do so. The action caused your core to pulse.

"I'm sure," you told her confidently. She cocked a smirk. Her eyes closed as she leaned in to kiss you softly.

"Alright, baby." She teased your lip with her tongue before giving you a languid, open mouth kiss. "Let's take it slow." You wrapped your arms around the back of her neck and kissed her fully. You felt her smile into the kiss.

"And remember please," she said gently, "no pressure. This is about making you feel good. That's it. Don't focus on orgasming - just relax, enjoy yourself. Tell me what you like - what you don't like," she went on pointedly before cracking another smirk. "You know I'm eager to please."

You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. "I do know that."

"Good. So, let's take our time. No expectations." She kissed you again. "Just let me adore you."

You nearly pouted. "Why are you so good to me?"

She gave you a frown. "Because I adore you," she answered very matter of fact. You let out a small huff of a laugh and caressed her face with your palm, mirroring her when she smiled into your touch.

"Okay, baby. Is there something specific you want or want to start with?" She inquired. You chewed your bottom lip.

"Mm. No. Nothing specific," you said. Frustration started to bubble up inside of you again at your lack of clarity around this. Jessie must've noticed.

"That's fine," she said unbothered as she kissed you again. "We can figure it out together. Why don't we start over completely." Her gaze shifted away momentarily in thought before she looked back at you with a small smile starting to cross her face, her eyes bright. "Can I give you a massage?"

"Oh?" You said, not expecting that offer. You smirked at her. "Yeah, I'll never turn down a massage."

"Okay," Jessie said cheerfully as she hopped off the bed, her excitement pulling a laugh out of you. "One second," she said to you as she rushed out of the room to adjust the thermostat. When she returned, she wore a satisfied look. "I don't want you to get cold."

She spied the appreciative smile on your face as she went to her nightstand and dug around in the back for the bottle of oil. She internally chided herself for going so long without doing this for you. She'd be better about it going forward.

"On your stomach," Jessie ordered lightly as she climbed back onto the bed. You gave her a smug grin and turned over, folding your arms in front of you and resting your head on your hands.

"Mm," Jessie voiced as her eyes raked over you. She rest a hand on the curve of your ass and leaned down, laying slow kisses along your back. "You're so beautiful. I don't tell you enough."

You chuckled softly, eyes now closed. "Mm, I'm pretty sure you do."

It was true. For someone as taciturn as Jessie was when you were simply friends, you were, quite frankly, pretty stunned at how expressive and demonstrative Jessie had become as she relaxed into your relationship. It was a very welcome surprise.

Jessie straddled your waist, sitting back delicately on you and tenderly moving you hair aside to expose the back of your neck. She leaned down and kissed you there, a subtle moan from you reaching her ears in response.

She sat back up and poured some of the natural oil into her hands and rubbed them together to warm it. She leaned forward again and began to gently knead the muscles in your neck. You moaned more fully this time.

"You're really tense," Jessie noted as she ran her thumb up from the base of your neck. "Are you doing those stretches I told you to do when you're at your desk?" The moan you released this time was entirely different in nature. Jessie tucked her head bashfully even though you couldn't see it. "Sorry. Not the time," she apologized.

Jessie refocused her efforts on your neck, reassured when you relaxed into her touch again and let out a contented sigh.

She worked her way down to your shoulders. There was a knot she made mental note to work out for you later. At this, a wave of emotion went through her, an overwhelming feeling - this beautiful woman laying beneath her, resting trusting and relaxed, you were hers and she wanted to take care of you, in every respect. She leaned down and kissed your shoulder.

Shimmying down slightly, Jessie began massaging your back. She ignored the heat building between her legs the longer she sat spread legged on you and the more she caressed the curves of your body.

She watched the way your muscles moved under her gentle manipulations. Interspersed, she laid feathery soft, teasing kisses on your upper back, you shoulder blades, down your spine. A quiet smile played across her face as you shifted beneath her, your legs restless and a sign Jessie recognized as your arousal building.

She gently dug both her thumbs into the center of your lower back and pushed upwards, allowing herself to lean into you, rolling her hips sensually against you as she did so. She caught how your fingers tightened around your forearms and your hips shifted against her in response.

Giving you one final kiss at the base of your spine, grinning at how a shiver went through your body, Jessie moved down to begin massaging your legs. She heard your soft groan of disappointment as she got off of you, so kept her work on your calves short.

She'd contemplated remaining kneeling next to you as she massaged upward towards your thighs, but decided against it. She straddled your calf, lowering herself down onto you, her hot, wet core making direct contact with you. She smiled once more as you tensed up and gave a hearty moan, looking back this time at her with a sly grin.

"Mm, baby. Someone's worked up," you teased. Jessie embraced it.

"I told you you were gorgeous," she said easily and enjoyed the way your grin softened as you closed your eyes once more.

Jessie began kneading your thighs, loving the feel of them under her fingers. Her hands continued to wander upward until the fingers of her inside hand started to delicately brush up against the outside of your lips. She watched your reaction, pleased with how you buried your head into your hands and rolled out your shoulders.

She switched sides, keeping her touches teasing. From this vantage point with your legs spread as they were, she could see how cum started to pool at your entrance. She bit the inside of her lip as she felt herself growing wetter at the sight.

Encouraged, Jessie gently ran her fingers through your folds. Your whole body tensed and she watched transfixed as you pushed yourself into the mattress as a soft moan fell from your lips.

Jessie brought a hand up to trace along your waist, then your spine, while the other started to gently rub your clit. Jessie's core pulsed again and her breathing deepened as you began to rock your hips into her.

"I want your weight on me," you eventually implored.

Your request sparked a thought in Jessie's mind. She recalled one of her teammates talking in the locker room about how she liked masturbating on her stomach. Though open with you sexually, Jessie was pretty prudish otherwise and often removed herself from those conversations. Even during that conversation she wandered over to the far side of the room and worked on re-lacing her shoes. However, this might prove to be valuable information.

"Okay, baby," Jessie agreed as she kneaded your ass one time in admiration before moving upwards and tentatively laying on top of you. She partially straddled your thigh, wrapping both arms around you, one around your stomach and the other further down by your hip, her fingers now back on your clit.

"You can rest on me," you assured her. At your coaxing, she relaxed her muscles and allowed herself to lower onto you completely.

"This okay?"

"Mmhmm," you affirmed as you gave a subtle, but needy shift of your hips. She gave an experimental rub of your clit, two fingers gently circling your nub.

"Mm, that feels nice, Jess," you praised as you rocked back into her. Jessie kissed your shoulders and moved her free hand up to cup one of your breasts. She began to softly knead it before gently pinching your nipple, knowing it would elicit a small gasp from you. "Yeah, that's good, baby," you said in a breathy voice as you sensually rolled your body into her touch.

Jessie began to rub your clit a bit more firmly though maintaining her pace. She laid her tongue towards the top of your spine and trailed it downwards. You rolled your head and she saw your jaw drop as you moaned further.

"Just like that, Jess," you said as you continued to move against her. Jessie's body was thrumming with energy over your responses.

She paid close attention to you and though you were plainly enjoying things, it seemed to stall at some point and she wondered if you needed more.

"Do you want me to eat you out?" Jessie whispered between kisses along your back. You moaned long and low in reaction and she grinned.

As you both repositioned, Jessie took a quick detour to the nightstand again. You let out a pleased noise as she returned with a vibrator in hand, settling between your legs but setting it aside.

"We'll see where things go," she said simply with an easy smile.

Jessie took her time kissing her way up and down your thighs, her fingers working the same muscles she'd tended to before. Her eyes were drawn to your center, it was so wet now, cum dripping down you and just inviting her in. She dug her fingers into your legs in appreciation.

"Mm, I love being between your legs," she told you, drawing a full body reaction out of you. She spoke further, each sentence punctuated with a kiss closer and closer to your core.

"I love your scent. It does things to me I can't even describe. Sometimes...I can catch just the slightest hint of you on me after. Drives me wild. And I love the way you taste. It's like you were made especially for me."

A low moan fell from your mouth and she heard you digging your head back into your pillow as you began to paw at the sheets.

Satisfied with the lead up, Jessie began to eat you out. Though she was greedy for you, she indulged by being slow and thorough with you. She relished in every taste, every sigh, every whimper, every gyration. She made sure no part of you was neglected.

In time, she reached for the vibrator and turned it on its lowest setting. She glanced up at you and caught the blissful grin you gave her. She gently placed it against your clit.

"How's this?" She asked.

"So good," you panted as you tensed up and bunched the sheets into your hands.

Pleased with your response, Jessie attentively tended to your lips and entrance, continuing to knead your thigh with her free hand. She licked your folds, pulled them between her lips, teasing them, her teeth grazing now and then. She circled her tongue around your slick entrance and pushed inside, lapping at the juices she found there.

"Faster," you instructed some time later as you nudged her hand that held the vibrator. She dutifully changed the setting and continued, smiling into you as you moaned anew.

Jessie watched you carefully, tuned into your breathing, the pitch of your whimpers, every tense and flex of your body and adjusting her ministrations as your body guided her.

Eventually, Jessie moved her hand from your thigh to your entrance. She pushed a finger inside of you, it sliding in easily with how wet you were.

"Oh, fuck, Jess," you moaned in approval as you gripped the sheets. Encouraged, Jessie began to stroke in and out of you, curling her finger upward to manipulate your g-spot. You shivered. "More."

Jessie obliged, adding a second finger inside of you, glancing down and her own core pulsing at the sight of you stretching to accommodate her fingers.

She continued her efforts, paying close attention to each thing she was doing and carefully balancing them appropriately to match what you needed. Your intoxicating moans and the sexy shifting of your hips was more than enough motivation for her.

"Just your mouth and fingers now," your breathless voice filled her ears as your hand came up to rest on hers a while later. Jessie turned it off and set it aside, doing her best to not lose rhythm or contact outside of that.

"Is it too sensitive now?" Jessie asked, thinking twice before latching her mouth onto your clit.

"No, I just want your mouth instead," you said while rocking your hips up invitingly.

Not needing further confirmation, Jessie placed her lips around your clit, sucking and flicking her tongue across it. Your hand immediately began digging into the crown of her head, gripping and tugging her hair now and then and rocking brazenly into her mouth and fingers.

The sounds you made reached a new height and all the signs indicated to Jessie your orgasm was imminent. She stayed stalwart and steady in her attention to you.

"Don't stop," you beseeched, reinforcing Jessie's resolution.

A grunt got caught in Jessie's throat as you clutched her hair almost painfully and your whimpers peaked. You released a strangled cry as your thighs closed around her head and you bucked forcefully up into her and clawed at the sheets as your orgasm shook you.

Jessie rode it out with you, still tending to you, but being mindful to not overstimulate you while she gradually slowed her ministrations in time with you as the tension in your body melted away.

Your hand fell from her head and your limbs fell slack. You breathed heavily, your chest heaving up and down as you lay speechless.

Jessie remained between your legs, quietly watching you as she peppered slow, faint kisses along your inner thighs.

"Oh fuck," you eventually said, still struggling to catch your breath but managing to bring one hand up to rest tiredly on your cheek. You eventually cracked an eye open to peer down at her whose neutral expression shifted into a poorly concealed smug smirk.

"Uh huh," you nodded, deadpan as you closed your eyes once more and chuckled.

Jessie quieted her smirk and climbed up your body, wiping her mouth quickly before kissing the corner of yours and laying half on you, arm and leg hooking around you and pulling you close.

"Nobody can say that you're not dedicated," you said breathlessly with another small laugh. You turned your head, tucking it against her. Your voice was quiet when you spoke. "Thank you. I know I made you work for that one." You snickered playfully as you wiped her forehead. "You're all sweaty."

"I don't mind breaking a sweat for you."

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

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.”

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Alex: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! [wheeeeeeze] Byrd: Woah, lady-.. I know karate! Wren: No, you don’t. Byrd: [whispers] She doesn’t need to know that. Wren: It’s Alex, dipshit. Byrd: Ohhh-.. wait, really? Wren: Sure looks like her.

Alex: Oh my god, I found you-.. and I followed your CAT! I missed you so much!! I hope you’re not mad at me-.. I’m so SO sorry for not writing! I thought I was being organised by printing some labels out to save time, y’know? But then I forgot them at home when we went to my uncles and dad said we’d only be gone for a month, so I figured it wasn’t a huge deal, but then we stayed for what felt like it’d be FOREVER and I couldn’t for the life of me remember your address which is ridiculous ‘cause I SHOULD’VE had it memorised by now and I felt so awful as the months passed. I tried to remember it a couple times but you never wrote back so I figured I obviously got it wrong-.. then I tried finding your house on a stupid online map but the internet was crappy at best and the Bay is WAY bigger than I thought it’d be and I’ve never really seen your house in full view from the street either so, like.. I barely knew what I was looking for, and what if that camera car didn’t even map your house, y’know?!

Ava: That was.. a lot. Alex: Sorry-.. you’re not mad, are you? [Robin shook his head and took a breath, but nothing came out] Wren: Oop. Byrd: Yeah, I think he broke. Ava: Ooh, do you know sign language? Alex: No-.. I totally should’ve learnt! I guess I didn’t know I’d be coming here though… Byrd: I can teach you! Well, some, I’m still learning, but Robin knows a bunch. Ava: He’s not mad, by the way. He was just worried. [Robin shot his younger siblings a look, fruitlessly warning them not to embarrass him] Byrd: I’m sure he’d say hi, if he could. Wren: I bet he’d say you look pretty too. Byrd: He’s been extra mopey without your letters-.. or maybe that’s just what puberty does. Ava: He has to wear deodorant now, otherwise he STINKS! Wren: You should stay for supper, dad’s baking something.. again. Alex: Ough.. I was supposed to be home ages ago, dad’ll kill me.. wait, what school do you go to?! Byrd: Bay C-… Wren: Not us-.. he goes to Copperdale. Alex: Ohh, yay! I promised dad I’d finally unpack tomorrow but the day after that is Monday, right? Wren: Well done. Alex: Okay-.. ahhhh! SEE YOU AT SCHOOL!!

…

[Robin deflated as soon as Alex liberated him from another bear hug and sped off, releasing a breath he’d kept tucked beneath his ribs for an uncomfortably lengthy amount of time] Robin: Ouuuuuuuuuuuuugh. Robin: Why-.. why am I like this? Wren: You’ll spew something out eventually. Oscar: Alright losers, pie’s-.. what’s up with him? Robin: I’m fucking BROKEN. Wren: I mean.. you’re a little fucked, but still good! Oscar: Quit it with the swearing-.. what happened? Wren: Alex showed up n’ he broke. Robin: I didn’t even get to say hi or ask why she’s here, or for how long-.. and you just had to be embarrassing! Oscar: What’d she say? Robin: She said Alex was pretty on my behalf and I’ve never said that and she’s a DICK! Oscar: That’s tame-.. for Wren. Robin: I hate you all right now. Wren: Not as much as you hate yourself. Oscar: Hey, too much! Robin, c’mon-… Robin: SHUT UP! Oscar: Right, you’re on dish duty. Wren: Seriously?! Oscar: You reap what you sow, honey.

[aothotties]

Sneaky link w/ Best Friend!Eren

Warnings: MDNI, reader is a tease, swearing, unprotected sex, bathtub sex, multiple orgasms, light choking, squirting, cream pie, Eren and the reader say I love you.

Word count: 1874

________

“Alright lil mama, what do you want to do next?” Eren asks you before stuffing his face with cotton candy.

You look around at all the attractions and rides at the theme park, you two have been here since noon and basically did every damn thing.

“You can try and beat me at basketball again.” He suggests with a smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes and brush him off with a wave, you know better than to embarrass yourself like that. You smile as you stop in front of one of the games.

“Win me a stuffed animal, and I mean one of the big ones. Go on” You step to the side and take the cotton candy from him.

“You know good and well I’m not good at darts.” He says with an attitude, he pushes his sleeves up and ties his hair back.

“Oh you’re so damn dramatic Eren, I would’ve been halfway through by now.” You playfully brag and he shakes his head.

“And that’s your problem, you’re always in a hurry.” He taps your nose and steps up to the table

.You watch as he focuses on the balloons in front of him before he releases one in the direction of the board.

POP!

You watch in shock as the dart pierces the balloon with ease, a smirk appears on his face and he throws the second dart.

“That’s two for two princess, better pick out which stuffed animal you want.” You playfully roll your eyes, and look at all of the options while he finishes the game up.

“Congratulations! You’re the first person all day to get all 5 in one go. You can pick from wherever you like.” The man behind the stand says.

“Well baby doll, what do you want?” He wraps an arm around your shoulder,  you point to a small dog and he looks down at you confused.

“What?” You ask, moving from under his arm to stare up at him.

“I managed to knock all five balloons out at once and you want that little ass dog? Sir, we’ll take the big teddy bear at the top. Thank you.” He looks down at you and shakes his head.

“I thought you said I got to pick?” You try to hide your smile by looking down at your phone.

“I thought I could trust you to pick.” He mumbles, he grabs the bear from the man and gives him a smile. 

He takes your hand in his and begins walking towards the parking lot. You rest your head on his arm and he smiles at how cute you are.

“Do you have any plans after I drop you off?” He knows your routine like the back of his hand, but he loves to hear you repeat it.

Get inside, run a bubble bath, pour a glass of wine or smoke (sometimes both), lotion and moisturize then watch Criminal Minds before falling asleep. 

“I feel like you know what I’m going to say.” You look up at him and he nods in agreement. 

You two arrive to his car and he opens your door for you, you chuckle and get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“You’re being overly friendly right now.” You run your fingers through his long brown hair and he leans into your hand.

“Friendly isn’t what I’d call it, but to each their own.” He teases and you roll your eyes at his statement.

“If you want to have the feelings talk, I am all ears.” You challenge him and he seems to lose his voice all of a sudden.

“Exactly, now hurry up and take me home. Those lavender bubbles are calling my name and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” You kiss his lips and he closes your door carefully.

He sighs to himself as he walks around to his side of the door. He knows you’re right, you both know the feelings are there. He’s just second guessing himself.

He pulls himself out of his deep thought and gets into the driver's side, he stuffs the teddy bear into the back seat and you laugh into your hand.

“Poor thing, he’ll be alright. Let’s get you to that bubble bath.” He puts his seatbelt on and begins the drive to your house. 

It took about 45 minutes for you to get home from the fair, you and Eren both had to pee a total of 3 times on the way.

“Alright, no more damn lemonade for a month.” You say as you walk inside the house with him.

“Yeah, luckily for us fairs are only every few months.” He sits on one of the kitchen stools and watches you shuffle around the living room.

“So you can help yourself to the kitchen and make yourself comfortable.” He stands up and walks over to you.

“You act like I’m not here three times a week.” You laugh and nod your head in return.

“I guess you are here all the time. I didn’t even notice.” You step closer to him and play with the end of his shirt.

He watches you closely and waits to see what you do next. You pull him down so your lips are by his ear and he resists the urge to gasp.

“I’m going to go upstairs and take a bath, if you come up there then I’ll take that as a yes. If not, then I know where we stand.” You take a step back before turning around in the direction of your bathroom. 

You make sure to grab a bottle of wine on your way upstairs and Eren feels his throat dry up and his pants get tighter.

“Oh my god” He puts a hand on his rapidly beating heart and lets out a nervous breath. 

Eren isn’t sure how or when, but he does make it upstairs at some point. He bites his lip at the sight of you in front of him.

You’re resting in your tub with your head resting against the back of it. Your breasts are partially covered, that is until you sit up to greet the man in front of you.

“You made it.’ You say sweetly, leaning over the side of the bathtub. Your ass peeks over the water and he immediately begins to undress.

He takes his clothes off in record time and gets into the tub directly behind you. 

“I was a little nervous you weren’t going to come up here” you tell him, you plant kisses on his neck and he leans back. 

“I’ll do anything for you baby. Anything you want.” He groans as you wrap a wet hand around his cock and stroke him slowly. 

“You’ll do anything I want baby?” You watch him fall apart in your hands and sit on his thighs. 

You smirk as his chest rises and falls with each movement of your hand. He nods his head quickly and you hold his chin with your free hand, forcing him to look at you. 

“Tell me you love me Eren” You tell him, replacing your hand with your warm cunt, not even giving him a moment to breathe. 

Eren’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him. 

“F-fuck, I love you! I love you so fucking much.” He confesses, he pulls you in by the back of your neck and presses his lips against yours. 

You melt into his arms and wrap your own arms around his neck. He rubs his hands up and down your waist and you sigh against his lips. 

His hands rub their way up your back, and make their final destination on your chest. He gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth and rubs over your nipples with his thumbs. 

You let out a shaky breath as he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub. As he begins to rub your other breast, he starts thrusting up into you. 

“Eren!” You cry out, immediately grabbing his shoulders as his movements pick up. 

He grins at how quickly things change. Less than five minutes ago he was falling apart in your hands and now you’re crumbling on top of him. 

“Look at my pretty girl.” He says as he pulls away from your chest. 

You moan and bounce faster as you feel that familiar warmth build up in your stomach. 

“Are you getting close baby? Fuck, I love when your pussy gets tight like this!” He holds your hips in his hands tightly and fucks into you rapidly. 

You rest your face in the crook of his neck and let out a cry of pleasure. He pulls you against his chest and plows into you. 

“Oh god, R-Ren I’m coming!” You exclaim while coming all over his cock. 

“Good girl, I’m not finished with you yet though.” He coos, wrapping a hand around your throat as you whine in overstimulation. 

“God damn I should’ve confessed sooner.” He grunts as another orgasm washes over you. 

“Eren!” You cry out, your limp body falling into his arms. 

“Yeah baby that’s it. Feels good, huh?” He teases, the hand that was on your throat sneakily trails down your abdomen and to your soaking clit. 

You bite his shoulder as he rubs slow circles on the nub to bring you to another orgasm. 

“Y-yes, feels so fucking good.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool starts to fall from your lips. 

“That’s it, just like that mama, keep squeezing me just like that.” He bites his lip hard at the sight of your beautiful body on top of his. 

He swears your body is a fucking masterpiece, he’d scream it from the rooftops if he could. Eren adores every part of you, from the hair on your head, down to your pretty feet. You’re perfect in his eyes and that would never change. 

“Shit! I love you Eren, fuck I love you so so much.” You shriek as your final orgasm crashes throughout your entire body. 

Your eyes squeeze and your vision turns white as you gush all over his thighs, your tight cunt convulses around his cock and his hips lose their rhythm.

“R-ren.” You whimper as his thrust turn  into plowing. 

“ ‘m so close princess, fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good.” He pulls you in for a kiss and smashes his lips against yours. 

He grabs your ass and holds on for dear life as he pushes his cum deep inside of you. Rope after rope of hot cum fills you up to the brim as he slows the speed of his hips. 

He pulls back from your lips and leans his head back against the tub to finally catch his breath. 

“Holy shit.” He pants, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

“You okay baby?” He looks down at you and stifles his laugh at the sight of you drifting in and out of sleep. 

You simply nod your head and wrap your arms around him tighter, letting your actions do the talking. 

“Love you so much Eren.” You whisper in his neck and he pulls you in closer. 

“I love you more”

Ari

[ivysprophecy]

sharpest tools

warnings: dual POV HAHA so im not saying i know jj or that this is how he thinks or whatever im simply doing it for a change of pace and writing style, wanted to experiment a little so by all means if this isnt your thing pls keep scrolling. mentions of extreme anxiety, mentions of chronic pain meds, over the counter meds

word count: 2299

prev. | next

masterlist

summary: after your fight blows out of proportion both you and jj are left wondering what just happened? and the poor pogues are caught in the crossfires trying to delegate and reunite the two idiots. because neither of them are the sharpest tools in the shed.

jj's pov

"jj... jj wake up," my eyes open enough to see someone crouching in front of me.

why the hell is sarah waking me up?

i move to sit up forgetting i slept in the hammock last night so i swing and struggle for a second before gaining my balance back.

"whats up?"

she hands me a water and some aspirin she snagged from the kitchen, from the looks of it no one else is awake. "just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"i appreciate it sar but im good. i swear," i take a swig of the water before swallowing the pain killers, "theres absolutely nothing wrong," because really i dont know that the fuck is wrong.

"im guessing you dont wanna talk about what happened last night?"

"honest to god sarah im not even sure what happened- that girl kissed me and before i could get her off me y/n swooped in and exploded."

sarah sits criss cross on the grass next to the hammock looking over at me with an odd look on her face.

"so you didnt mean to kiss her?"

"no- sarah i didnt kiss that girl i swear on my life. she was asking me a question about directions and all of a sudden shes got me pinned against the rocks. honest," i hold my hands up in surrender feeling interrogated, "i'd never do that to y/n"

"im not saying you would- its just that we didnt know until last night so... speaking of that. what the fuck was that about?"

everyone has so many questions and honestly i do too, i dont know half of the answers. feels like i wiped out and i cant find the shore.

i just wish she'd talk to me. like im sure if shed just let me get two words in i could reassure her but i dont know what shes thinking right now and its killing me.

i hate it. i hate that i caused this.

but in my defense it kinda feels like she blew it way out of proportion if she had just let me explain this whole thing would be okay.

"i just... i dont know sar- she had all this anxiety about relationships and whatever- i dont really get it but she said she wanted to keep it between the two of us. who was i to tell her no ya know? i just wanna be with her."

sarah just kinda looks at me with wide eyes.

"what?"

"youre like- down bad arent you? youre totally whipped."

"i wouldnt say that-" she interrupts me.

"jj maybanks got a girlfriend... this is headline news," she chuckles making me roll my eyes. i thought we were having a serious conversation, not that i try to have those often but i could use her advice on the subject.

"sarah seriously- what the hell do i do? i barely know what happened last night how am i supposed to fix what i dont know is fucked up?"

"well from the tid bit you told me? sounds like shes massively overthinking and just saw the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it just so happened to fit into her warped little nightmare."

what the fuck did she just say?

"so youre saying this is just all in her head?"

"no- well- kind of... from the sounds of it shes got a lot of anxiety and trust issues. shes probably trying to self sabotage the relationship."

i let out a frustrated sigh, "can you not talk like a therapist for a minute?"

"jj what im saying is you both dont know how to handle the situation. you need to talk to each other, have a real discussion not just scream in each others faces like last night."

"i tried to talk to her! she wouldnt listen!"

sarah lets out a laugh letting her head hang as her body shook from the laughter. pushing some hair out of her face she turns her body to face me more head on.

"jj- it was the heat of the moment and she was scared and upset. of course she wasnt going to listen... now that shes had time to cool off? you might have a better shot."

"but what if she doesnt believe me?" look i dont like admitting that i get a little insecure sometimes, but id rather do that than fuck my relationship with y/n.

because god ive been trying for so long i dont know what im gonna do if i lose her.

i really need to see her. "is she awake?"

"not yet i dont think... why? what are you gonna do?" i stand up running my hands through my untamed hair trying to wake up a little bit.

"im gonna try to make it up to her- make sure shes up by the time i get home. 'kay?"

"home? what the fuck are you talking about jj? where are you going?" sarah stands up as she sees me walking towards my bike. her voice raising so it will carry enough for me to hear.

"dont worry bout it!"

with those final words i take off down the dirt road...

readers pov

ugh. my head is pounding. i need excedrin.

god last night was a horrible combination for my chronic migraines.

i walk into the kitchen and see john b and pope huddled in the corner making shushing noises before turning around to face me.

"there she is!" i shove my hand in john bs face to shut him up.

"its nine am. wheres the medicine cabinet my head is throbbing." poor sweet pope hands me the bottle of pills and a cold water. god bless him. "thank you," i let out a whine as i tilt my head back to take the medicine. "sorry ive got a killer migraine."

"oh-" they exchange glances with one another before pope speaks up in a hushed tone, "go lay down- let the meds work. and drink your water."

i squint at him, seeing how nervous he is. he wants to say something. they both do.

is this headache bearable enough to get this conversation over with? technically yes. should i use it as an excuse to ignore everything? probably not...

"its okay. we can talk. i can tell you want to."

"thank god" jb expresses before pope hits him in the chest, which leads to john b throwing his arms up in defense "what? you said we needed to talk to her!"

"yea but not force her to!"

"guys- cmon its fine. really. i know its a lot so lets just get this over with. yes jj and i had been dating for a month. yes we didnt tell anyone on purpose, i didnt want the pressure. i dont know if he kissed that girl or not but i freaked out and just wanted to be alone. i didnt mean to hurt his feelings but i was obviously upset so i said things i didnt mean. there. happy?"

both the boys look at me with bug eyes, "a month?!" they exclaim together.

"my god- yes. a month. its really not a big deal-"

"yes it is y/n- thats a huge step for you and jj. i thought the whole casual thing would flame out. this is a huge commitment for the both of you," pope reminds me, as if i wasnt aware. i

i was simply trying to down play it to give myself a reason to care less, seems like thats not happening any time soon.

"what are you my doctor?"

"i think what pope is trying to say is... were a little worried about you y/n/n... what happened last night- you kinda flew off the handle."

i whip my head around so fast i get dizzy, grabbing the counter for stability.

"excuse me? i flew off the handle? jj was the one kissing other girls-"

"y/n i think deep down you know thats not true-"

"no- no you dont get to tell me im crazy and then tell me what im thinking- this is my relationship. this is exactly why i didnt wanna tell everyone because i knew youd all stick your noses in it. what happened is between me and jj. no one else."

pope reaches out to steady me seeing me sway a little, "woah- okay maybe we should put a pause in this convo-"

"im fine pope. i just dont see how this is anyones business."

"we're not saying its our business y/n/n, were just worried about you. youre not acting like yourself. you seem anxious, paranoid, you know- just not normal," pope pleaded with me, making me sit on one of the dining chairs.

"right-" john be interjected, "all were trying to point out is we all know jj would never ever put his whatever you wanna call it with you in jeopardy. hes whipped. theres no way he went and kissed another girl."

i see where theyre coming from. i really do. i want to believe it but there are too many things playing in my head that tell me otherwise.

on one hand, i know jj would never hurt me. not on purpose, and to cheat is definitely with a purpose. hes always reassured me that its just me and since we got serious he hasnt given me a reason to doubt him.

but on the other... just seeing her all over him is so hard to forget. it all happened so fast, i dont know how long theyd been kissing for, maybe i got there just as it happened or maybe itd been going on for a while i have no idea. too many factors.

"y/n if you listen to literally anything we say let it be that we know jj loves you," i look up at the curly haired boy whos basically grown to be my brother.

"thats a big word for elmo-"

pope runs a hand over his face with a sigh, "for the love of god be serious for a minute," 'theyre made for each other' he thinks to himself. "just hear him out. please. for some reason he loves you a lot-"

"hey!"

"-and if were speaking freely youre the one whos put all of this at stake because all the rest of know jj didnt kiss that girl. youre the only one who has doubts. so talk to him. please. were begging you."

"... 'we're?' youve all talked about this?"

"of course we have- it all unraveled in front of us what else did you expect? by the way i was supposed to tell you sarah is siked for you- maybe nows not the time," john be stops himself scratching the back of his head.

honestly it gets a giggle out of me.

"okay.. yea. ill talk to him. where is he? is he here?"

pope looks out the window in the front yard, where he can see sarah peeking in before moving out os sight to pretend she wasnt listening in.

"he was here- he slept outside last night. wanted to give you space since you both normally share the couch."

oh... thats- sweet.

fuck. maybe i am screwing all of this up.

"can i come in now??" i hear sarah yell from the other side of the door.

"get in here!" i raise my voice a little testing my headache, which ironically has somehow gotten a little better.

sarah walks through the door. letting out a rather dramatic sigh, "finally. sorry- jj got some big idea and left on his bike a few minutes ago. said to have y'n awake by the time he gets back so... i dont really know what to do now."

john b looks at his wife and i notice... its like how jj looks at me.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

"do you know where he went??" i look at sarah with a begging tone and pleading tone.

she shakes her head "sorry honey bun," she teases with a smile. "but since weve got time... john b, pope, and i will go get some breakfast while we wait for jj to get back. you stay here- give you two some space to work it all out."

"what? no its fine- really you dont have to go..."

sarah walks up to me grabbing me by the shoulder with some stupid fucking grin like shes all knowing, "girl. youre gonna be fine. youll talk, kiss, and make up and be the happiest couple ever. it will be sickening, trust me id know. relax. it will be fine. you and jj will be able to work this out, im sure."

and with that john b grabs the keys to the twinkie heading out the door following wifes orders, with pope following in suit with an apologetic shrug.

sarah gives me a teasing kiss on the forehead, "well be back soon sweetie be safe."

"oh fuck off- bring back bacon and coffee please," she salutes me before walking outside with the boys.

"no one ever said she was the sharpest tool in the shed," john b quips as he steps into the twinkie with a sigh before turning the ignition.

pope hops in the back letting out a small laugh "yea thats for sure."

"neither of them are," sarah rebuts looking over at john b as they all laugh. "theyre both as sharp as a dull spoon"

"what the fuck did you just say?" jb looks over at her with a quizzical look on his face.

"just drive routledge."

[morlock-holmes]

Okay, guys, after reading a post by @centrally-unplanned I just took that ACX "AI Turing Test" that Scott Alexander did, and I am screaming, as the kids used to say.

You guys are way, way overthinking this.

I thought I would do better than average, and I guess I did; excluding three pictures I had seen before, I got 31/46 correct.

Not great if you're taking the SAT, but I feel like if I could call a roulette spin correctly 2 times out of 3 I could clean up in Vegas.

So, what is the secret of my amazing, D+ performance?

You have to look at the use of color and composition as tools to draw the eye to points of interest.

AI is really bad at this, when left to its own devices.

For example, here:

Part of the reason to suspect that this is AI is the "AI house style" and the bad hands that I literally only noticed right this exact second as I was typing this sentence. Even if the hands were rendered correctly, I would still clock this as AI.

The focal point of this piece ought to be the face of the woman and the little dragon she is looking at (Just noticed the dragon's wings don't match up either), but take off your glasses or squint at this for a second:

Your eye is being drawn by the bright gold sparkles on the lower right side of the piece. That particular bright gold is only in that spot on the image, but there's no reason to look there, it's just an upper arm and an elbow. The bright light source highlighting the woman's horn separates it out as a point of interest.

Meanwhile, the weird aurora streaming out of the woman's face on the left side means that it is blending in with the background.

In other words, the way the image is composed, and the subject matter suggest that your eye should be drawn here:

But the use of color suggests that you should look here:

That's a senseless place to draw the eye towards! It would be a really weird mistake for a human to make! In fact, I think there's a strong argument that the really close cropped picture of the face of the character is a strong improvement. It's still not a particularly good composition, but at least the color contrast now draws the eye to the proper points.

In fact, I would say that a good reason for my performance not being even better was this alarming statement at the start of the test:

I've tried to crop some pictures of both types into unusual shapes, so it won't be as easy as "everything that's in DALL-E's default aspect ratio is AI".

Uh...

So how about this one:

This is a lot better anatomically and in terms of the use of color and light to draw the eye towards sensible parts of the painting. The lighting makes pretty good sense in terms of coming from a particular direction and it also draws the eye to effectively to the face and the outstretched hand of the figure.

It's also a really flat and meaningless composition and subject matter that no renaissance artist would have chosen. What is this angel doing, exactly? Our eye is drawn to the face and hand, and the figure is looking off towards the left side, at, uh, what exactly?

But then I thought, "Well, maybe Scott chopped out a giant chunk of the picture, and this is just a detail from, like, the lower right eighth of some giant painting with three other figures that makes total sense"

This makes sense as a piece of a larger human made artwork, but if you tell me, "Nope, that's the whole thing and this is the original, un-cropped picture" I'd go, "Oh, AI, obviously.

All of the ones I had trouble with were AI art with good composition and use of color, and human ones with bad composition and use of color. For example, this one:

This has three solid points of interest arranged in an interesting relationship with different colors to block them out. I'd say the biggest tells are that the astronauts' feet are out of frame, which is a weird choice, and looking closely now, the landscape and smoke immediately to the right of the ship don't really make sense.

But again; I had to think, "Maybe Scott just cropped it weird and they had feet in the original picture."

Here's another problem:

StableDiffusion being bad at composition is such a known problem that there are a variety of tools which a person can use to manually block out the composition. In fact, let me try something.

I popped open Krita (Which now has a StableDiffusion plugin) and after literally dozens of generations and a couple of different models I landed on ZavyChromaXL with the following prompt:

concept art of two astronauts walking towards a spaceship on an alien planet, with a giant moon in th background, artstation, classic scifi, book cover

And this was the best I could do:

Not great, but Krita has a tool that lets you break an image into regions which each have different prompts, so I quickly blocked something out:

Each of those color blobs has a different part of the prompt, so the green region has "futuristic astronauts" the blue is the spaceship, the orange is the moon, grey is the ground and pink is the sky, which gives us:

Still way too much, so we can use Krita's adaptive patch tool and AI object removal to get:

I'm not saying it's high art, or even any good, but it's better than the stuff I was getting from a pure prompt, because a human did the composition.

But it's still so dominated by AI processes that it's fair to call it "AI Art".

Which makes me wonder how many of the AI pictures I called out as human made because one of the traits I was looking for, good composition, was in fact, actually made by a human.

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Just My Type

Billie Eilish x Fem!Celebrity!Reader

No warnings

Billie is stuck at a boring red carpet event but then she sees you. At first she assumes you are just another silly superficial Hollywood celebrity but soon enough she realises you are just her type.

Billie glanced around the event hall, barely hiding her boredom as she tugged at the hem of her oversized shirt. Everything about this charity gala was drenched in glitz and glam, from the sparkling chandeliers to the elegant gowns and tuxedos that seemed almost too stiff to be real. She felt totally out of place, shifting her weight and debating how soon she could duck out without causing a scene.

And then she saw you.

You were standing near the center of the room, laughing and chatting with a small group. Your pink satin dress shimmered under the lights, perfectly hugging your curves, and your hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Billie’s eyes couldn’t help but linger, taking in the glossy lips, the subtle highlighter, and the aura of confidence you carried as if you were born for this kind of scene.

Her gut instinct kicked in immediately. Definitely a mean girl, she thought, trying to dismiss the weird flutter in her chest. You looked like the type who’d dismiss her in a heartbeat, probably scoff at her clothes, maybe roll your eyes and walk away with a haughty laugh.

But for some reason, she couldn’t stop looking. There was something about the way you moved, the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed. Billie scolded herself for caring, tearing her eyes away and busying herself with the phone in her hand.

She was scrolling through random messages when she heard someone clear their throat nearby. When she looked up, she was hit with the sight of you standing directly in front of her, a curious, open smile playing on your lips. And now, up close, she could see the tiny sparkles in your eyeshadow, the way your cheeks had a natural blush, and—she’d never admit it out loud—the way her heart was suddenly racing for no good reason.

“Hey… Billie, right?”

She blinked, caught off guard. This girl actually knows who I am?

“Uh, yeah.” She shifted awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of her slouchy outfit compared to your perfectly put-together look. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N),” you said smoothly, reaching out a hand. Your handshake was warm, firm, and strangely comforting. “I’m a huge fan, actually. I’ve been listening to your music since… well, forever. I’m kind of freaking out getting to meet you like this.”

Wait, what? Billie blinked, caught between disbelief and something she couldn’t quite name. She’d been so ready to write you off as some stuck-up socialite, but here you were, looking at her like you actually cared. Like she wasn’t just some famous face, but a person.

“Oh… cool. Thanks,” she said, trying not to look too flustered. “Didn’t expect someone like, uh… you to be into my stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression shifting into a look that was both curious and amused. “Someone like me?”

Billie bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed, but she couldn’t take it back now. She gestured to your dress, your nails, the whole polished, effortless look you had going. “Yeah, y’know. Fancy. All done-up.”

Your eyes sparkled with laughter, and you let out a soft, genuine laugh that caught Billie completely off guard.

“I get it. Trust me, I know I can come off as a little… well, Barbie-ish,” you said with a playful wink. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a mess half the time. I really am a big fan, though. You manage to put a lot of what I feel into words and that’s pretty rare.”

Billie softened, nodding slowly as she took that in. She was used to people giving her compliments, but it hit differently coming from you. You seemed to get her as unexpected as it was.

She tried to play it cool, shrugging. “Guess we all feel like messes. But, I don’t know, sometimes I just get tired of pretending.”

You stayed like that for a while, talking about everything from music to weird food combinations, telling stories that had both of you cracking up and feeling like you’d known each other way longer than a few minutes. Billie found herself glancing down at her feet, hiding her smile more than once, trying to keep cool.

Eventually, you glanced over your shoulder, a bit reluctant. “I should probably find my friends; they’re probably wondering where I wandered off to.” You hesitated, looking at her with this expression that made Billie’s heart race again. “It was really nice meeting you, Billie.”

And before she could stop herself, Billie blurted out, “Wait! I, uh…” She ran a hand through her hair, a little embarrassed but determined not to let you just walk away. “I don’t wanna be here either. Wanna sneak out? There’s probably a nice spot somewhere where we can actually talk without… all this.”

You grinned, and there was something mischievous in your eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you slipped out of the event hall, Billie leading you down a back hallway she’d spotted earlier. You pushed open a side door, and it led to a quiet garden, empty and dimly lit by a few string lights hanging from the trees. It was quiet, peaceful, and a world away from the buzzing event inside.

The cool night air was a relief, and Billie leaned against a nearby bench, watching as you gazed up at the stars, letting out a contented sigh.

“This is way better,” you murmured, glancing back at her with a soft smile. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

Billie chuckled, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Guess we rescued each other.” She shrugged, feeling a little bolder now. “You’re actually… really cool, you know that? Way different than I thought.”

“Same goes for you,” you said, stepping a little closer, so close she could catch that faint hint of your perfume. “I thought you’d be, like, intimidating or maybe hard to talk to, but you’re just… you.”

Her breath caught, and for once, Billie didn’t have a witty reply. She just looked at you, caught up in the way your eyes reflected the string lights, and realized just how hard she was crushing.

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence, her hand brushing yours accidentally, lingering a little longer than either of you expected.

Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.

[enbysiriusblack]

rereading lily's letter to sirius:

starting off strong with 'dear', very formal letter writing but also kinda endearing depends how you look at it. BUT she follows with his 'padfoot' soo it's def endearing. it already shows just how close the two are from those two words.

ofc harry's favourite present was the one sirius got him (#bestdogfather)

ofc sirius gets a 1yr old a toy broom (#funnestdogfather)

i love how chill lily is about harry almost killing the cat and smashing a vase. she's so the fun mum. also petunia and lily still sending each other christmas presents, like why do i find that so sad/sweet?? idk. i love their relationship sm it's so interesting. and ik some people are gonna be thinking 'oh petunia probably regifted the ugly vase' but no. i think she went shopping specifically for lily and picked it out thinking it looked great (she's got horrible taste)

lily saying james found it funny as if she didn't also. girl please, you know you found it so fucking funny. also james already planning out harry's quidditch career. the man is obsessed. (no war au hari def would've became a professional qudditch player i fear)

btw if you're not british, "we've had a very quiet birthday tea", basically means like an afternoon tea. they're not just drinking tea, they do have tea but also some food (like lunchy food, sandwiches and cakes) and sit down at a table and chat basically. and harry will likely also be opening presents during it too

harry kinda having a doting grandma with bathilda>>>

lily prioritising the order !! she's so responsible, smart, dedicated i love her. plus she's being so real about babies. like. yeah he ain't gonna remember it anyway (also i'm guessing this means like. sirius had an order mission so couldn't come to harry's birthday? but does this mean peter and remus did too? or was only sirius invited??)

james having trouble with just staying at home constantly <33 and trying to hide it so lily doesn't worry <333 cutest husband ever.

fuck dumbledoreeeee. i don't mind him sometimes, but how dare he take james' cloak (his family heirloom) so james and lily and harry can't go on secret outing together??? they are NOT made for staying inside. james needs his runs and flying and fresh air and chats to strangers and lily needs her woods and nature and hiking and camping.

"if you could visit, it'd cheer him up so much" SHE GETS THEM.. SHE GETS THEM

lily also calling peter "wormy", they're so also her best friends and not just james', do NOT even argue.

ik people argue this bit about the mckinnons as a proof lily was never close to marlene, but it so is proof of the opposite to me!! maybe i'm coldhearted, but i would NOT be crying all fucking evening just cause a family that i kinda know and am colleagues with one or a few of them got killed.. all evening??? ALL EVENING?? yeah, they were def close friends for sure. (and she's not just gonna single out marlene because it was ALL her family, it'd be a bit weird and disrespectful to only say marlene. especially if you, as a lot of people do, hc lily and marlene as roommates and close friends all throughout school. like lily would've visited marlene's family quite a few times. she'd know them fairly well)

lily getting ALL the gossip about dumbledore from bathilda. love that for her. also her not believing dumbledore was friends with grindelwald i'm giggling. she would've lost her mind at the idea of them as exes fr (also lily building up the suspense about dumbledore being friends with grindelwald by putting the "friends with grindelwald" part on the next page so he'd have to read the next page.. she totally didn't just run out of room. that was on purpose)

"lots of love" SCREAMING. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SM. lilypad ily. lilypad ily. bestfriends fr!!!!!!!

also not related to the text itself, but severus taking the page where lily says "lots of love" and cutting lily out of the photo of harry on his broomstick like... FUCKING MAN.. that was for SIRIUS. that's lily's love for SIRIUS. don't take her love, she didn't fucking mean it for you, don't try to pretend it was you, you absolute wanker.. anyway

[sarahreesbrennan]

Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.

I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.

But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.

Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).

Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!

Thank you so much for this.

I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.

I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.

I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.

I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.

My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…

That has been hard.

But.

In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.

I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.

I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.

And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?

Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.

I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.

It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.

Please know two things.

I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.

2. This book was written for you.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

chaggie talk post charlie's ex dropping by the hotel, time for hugs

Charlie: "....Vaggie?"

(THUNK)

Vaggie: "Charlie- Oh sweetie hi! I was just uh..."

Charlie: "Using a picture of my ex for target practice?"

Vaggie: (slumping) "Sorry."

Charlie: "Don't be! Look like you had pretty good aim, heheh!" (hugs gf) "I'm sorry he showed up today like that."

Vaggie: "Totally not your fault, babe. That was all him."

Charlie: "You really hate him, huh?"

Vaggie: "I don't even know the guy."

Charlie: "You hate what you do know about him."

Vaggie: "Yeah. Well. You dumped him for a reason. Right?"

Charlie: "Several."

Vaggie: "So how's seeing him again going? You okay? Him stopping by out of the blue like this..."

Charlie: "I'm okay!"

Vaggie: "Really."

Charlie: "I'm okay enough. I wish he'd been a little less HIM about it all but I'm okay!" (hugs tighter) "I have you. You make everything better."

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: (hugs back) "Charlie?"

Charlie: "Hm?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to be honest?"

Charlie: "If you can. As much as you're okay with."

Vaggie: "......I wasn't okay with this. With him."

Charlie: "Never would have guessed. Not like you almost taking his head off with your spear was a pretty big hint or anything."

Vaggie: "I hated seeing how he could just walk back into your life like that."

Charlie: "He's not IN my life again, Vaggie, he's just helping with the hotel- well I guess right now he's probably already in a sex dungeon knowing Angel Dust-"

Vaggie: "A- sex dungeon?"

Charlie: "I'll tell you later. Tell me your stuff now?"

Vaggie: "...he's your ex."

Charlie: "Yes. Very."

Vaggie: "But you broke up with him just for annoying, normal things."

Charlie: "There was lot of them but also yes."

Vaggie: "He wasn't, isn't, a bad person."

Charlie: "He could use SOME character growth but yeah. A normal enough guy."

Vaggie: "He's not violent or cruel or anything."

Charlie: "Harmless like I said. He's also just. Well."

Vaggie: "Not a murderer."

Charlie: "Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "Sorry." (hides face) "Forget it."

Charlie: "No I- I didn't mean-"

Vaggie: "Forget it. What's Angel Dust doing with him?"

Charlie: "I don't know or care right now." (snuggles gf) "Please, keep going?"

Vaggie: "It's the same stupid thing as ever."

Charlie: "Not stupid. Important."

Vaggie: "Your ex drops by and I'm making it about me." (snorts) "Sounds pretty stupid."

Charlie: "No. It's not. My girlfriend is hurt and sad, and that's not something to just forget. It also makes it about me too, I think. Tell me?"

Vaggie: "...I just..."

Vaggie: (sighs)

Vaggie: "I'm just jealous."

Charlie: "Jealous? Of what? You don't have be- I don't have the slightest, tiniest interest in him anymore-"

Vaggie: "But it'd make sense if you did."

Charlie: "No it wouldn't! Why would you think-?"

Vaggie: "Did he ever keep a huge secret from you for years?"

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "Or stand back and let some terrible news get dropped on you at the worst possible moment, just because he was too scared to tell you himself?"

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Vaggie: "He never hurt you like I did, Charlie. Did he."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "He never could have... I didn't let him. I was never as close with him as I am with you."

Vaggie: "Why not? Why..."

Charlie: "He never wanted to talk seriously about the hotel or saving sinners. No one did but. But he'd get me talking about it in front of others, sometimes, just so he could swoop in and be the hero for me when they laughed. But they had to laugh at me first before he'd do the swooping."

Vaggie: "Asshole."

Charlie: "Kinda. You're not like that."

Vaggie: "Those are small things though, not, not secretly an Exorcist level things-"

Charlie: "They feel like big things to me."

Vaggie: "Still-"

Charlie: "Bigger than you having been something that you aren't anymore."

Vaggie: "But I still hurt you with it! And there were years when you thought we could be close without you getting hurt at all. That's why you even trusted me, right?"

Charlie: "You make it sound like I planned it out. Vaggie, I just, I kept waking up happy. Everyday, I was just glad you were here."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I am happy you're here."

Vaggie: "..."

Vaggie: "...past me was so stupid, Charlie."

Charlie: "She was scared. When I thought maybe you didn't really want to be here with me, I got scared too."

Vaggie: "And angry."

Charlie: "You think so?" (chuckles) "So did I fool you?"

Vaggie: "Fool me? Sweetie, you were glaring daggers. Completely deserved daggers but yeah, I did notice them."

Charlie: "I was scared I'd cry every time I looked at you. I HATED not being sure I could hug you, or if I ever would again, and putting on an angry face helped me not, well, break down ugly sobbing."

Vaggie: "It's okay if you were angry, that's a normal thing when-"

Charlie: "I was upset! But if I'd been pissed at you, my horns would've been out. Where they ever?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "No~"

Vaggie: "... I've another stupid confession-"

Charlie: "I'm vetoing that word!"

Vaggie: "Alright alright." (laughs) "I've got another HONEST confession to make."

Charlie: "I'd love to hear it."

Vaggie: "I was. A little. Disappointed seeing you with Seviathan."

Charlie: "I wasn't with him-"

Vaggie: "Talking to him. Whatever."

Charlie: "Okay. Why?"

Vaggie: "This is gonna sound horrible."

Charlie: "You're judgement on horrible stuff to do with you is a liiiiittle bit skewed so maybe get a second opinion? Like mine?"

Vaggie: "..... you weren't pissed off just from seeing him."

Charlie: "I mean I wouldn't say I was happy about it either-"

Vaggie: "You're horns weren't out."

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "You weren't even glaring."

Charlie: "Glaring at what, he was just standing there with his hand on my arm- Oh."

Vaggie: "Yeah."

Charlie: "OH!"

Vaggie: "I was more than one kind of jealous."

Charlie: "Vaggie- that-" (burst into giggles) "I didn't even notice he was doing that! It's probably just muscle memory for him!"

Vaggie: "Yeah." (growls) "I figured."

Charlie: "Awww my poor girl~"

Vaggie: "Ugh."

Charlie: "Don't worry, I know what will cheer you right up! You wanna hear how I almost threw him out of the hotel after you left?"

Vaggie: "...You told him to get out?"

Charlie: "Threw, Vaggie. Physically. Almost right out the door."

Vaggie: "Seriously?" (looks up) (grinning) "What'd he do?"

Charlie: "He asked if you were s- uhhhhhhhhhh that's not the important point! Point is, I was PISSED, and if YOU want to keep using his picture as a dart board for your spear throwing time then that's fine by me!!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe." (smooch) "Talking is good, doing the talking with you feels good, but stabbing also makes me feel better too."

Charlie: "Really? How much better?"

Vaggie: "Wanna find out?"

Charlie: "Oh I shouldn't..."

Charlie: (looks thoughtfully at seviathan's picture)

Vaggie: (offers spear)

Charlie: "....but maaaabye... if it helps me understand MY girlfriend better..." (takes spear)

Vaggie: "Lot of emphasis on the 'my' part there, babe."

Charlie: "Well you are! Mine. My girlfriend."

Vaggie: "As your girlfriend I could stand behind you and correct your stance if you wanted me to."

Charlie: "With your hands on my hips?"

Vaggie: "Where else?"

Charlie: (grinning) "Nowhere."

[txttletale]

Obligatory "in good faith" premise.

I've seen an argument against tme/tma that focuses on the fact that there's no similar terms for other types of oppression (as in, no terms like "racism affected/exempt"), and how tme/tma aren't good terms because they imply there's people who can't be affected at all by transmisogyny, regardless of whether it would be "misdirected" or not (which I do think it would be, although a lot of people against tme/tma would disagree).

Since tma/tme functionally ends up meaning just "transfem" and "not transfem" (or at least that's how ive seen it used and advocated for), do you think there's something to the idea that we could just say that instead when discussing transmisogyny? Or is there something about these specific terms that adds to the conversation?

I mean, I guess it would be awkward to put "not transfem" in your bio maybe

i mean like. there are those terms, though, those terms dfo exist, they're jsut called 'poc' and 'white'. liike the construction of 'whiteness' is such that it basically literally means 'racism exempt' within the context of white supremacy (which is ofc the context in which most discussion of racism takes place).

i feel like people are really getting caught up on like, 'exempt' and 'affected' as like, total absolutes 100% of the time and bringing up edge cases as though this absolutely refutes them when i think that's not a particularly useful thing to do for what are fundamentally abstractions for discussing a particular set of nuanced and diverse relations to transmisogyny! like obviously every single person has a unique and specific relationship to transmisogyny, but that doesn't make the terms useless an ymore than 'gay' or 'trans' are useless because people have complicated sexuality or gender situations.

& i think that if we started saying 'transfem / not transfem' then all the exact same edge cases and arguments would just start shifting onto the definition of the word 'transfem'. which i don't think is synonymous with TMA. i think that e.g. arguing that drag queens who regularly have their lives threatened by nazi militiamen with guns are not Transmisogyny Affected is kind of sillygoofy, right, but a lot of them don't identify as transfem! & i think moreover that saying 'trans women' and 'non trans women' kind of is the exact same maneuver as people who say 'don't say cis' because like the implicit content of using those constructions is that there are 'default' people who need no descritpor and then there are 'transfems', right?

+ i think TME/TMA are valuable because they articulate exactly what's relevant about the distinction, which is a relationship to transmisogyny. like a trans guy isnt 'TME' because he's a trans guy, but because if he gets into an argument with me he can pull out the classic 'aggressive' 'scary' 'creepy' 'predatory' 'sexual deviant' cards and try to have me socially murdered and have people side with him by default, something he shares with a cis guy and a cis girl in the exact same situaiton. because of the Trans Misogyny that i am Affected by and he is Exempt From and that therefore can be weaopnized against me in any interaction.

[gyorouis]

𐙚 HEARTSTRINGS.

— "you are mine i am yours, isn't it obvious that there's something one of us wants to admit?"

genre: angst, fluff, bandmates to friends to lovers :>>

pairing: bandmate!beomgyu x afab!reader

warning: swearing, kiss (?), let me know if i forgot anything!

wordcount: 11.8k :>>

now playing: one click straight — mrt ୨ৎ , zild — lia ୨ৎ

if it wasn’t your friend crying to you to join the band, you might have ignored the opportunity altogether. you had heard of the band through chaeyoung, your friend who had harbored a not-so-secret crush on beomgyu for as long as you could remember. she spoke of him with a dreamy look in her eyes, often mentioning his talent and the way he seemed to pour his soul into every note he played.

“he's amazing,” chaeyoung would say, her cheeks flushing slightly. “and so kind. you should see how he treats everyone in the band.”

you nodded along, though your thoughts were often elsewhere, lost in the chords and melodies you created in your room. music had always been your escape, a place where you could express the things words often failed to capture.

one evening, as you sat with chaeyoung at your usual coffee shop, she burst into the room with an excitement you rarely saw in her. she practically bounced over to your table, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. “guess what?” she said, barely able to contain herself. “the band is looking for a new guitarist and vocalist!”

you raised an eyebrow, curious but cautious. “and?”

“and you should totally try out!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. “you’re perfect for it. plus, it would be a great way for me to get closer to beomgyu.”

you chuckled at her transparency. “so this is your grand plan? get me into the band so you can make your move on beomgyu?”

she grinned, unashamed. “exactly. come on, it’ll be fun. and you love playing music. it’s a win-win.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of her request. joining a band was a big commitment, and the thought of performing in front of people made your stomach churn. “i don’t know, chaeyoung. i’m not really a performer. i like playing in my room, where no one can judge me.”

her face fell, and you could see the disappointment in her eyes. “but you’re so talented. it’s a waste to keep all that to yourself. please, just give it a shot. for me?”

you shook your head, standing firm. “i can’t. it’s just too much.”

chaeyoung’s shoulders slumped, and she stared at her coffee cup, her fingers tracing the rim. “i really thought you’d say yes,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “this means a lot to me.”

you felt a pang of guilt, but your mind was made up. “i’m sorry, chaeyoung. i just can’t.”

the next day, chaeyoung showed up at your door, her eyes red and puffy from crying. she looked at you with such desperation that it broke your heart. “please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “i need this. i need you to help me.”

you were taken aback by her raw emotion. chaeyoung was always so composed, so put-together. seeing her like this, so vulnerable, made you reconsider. “chaeyoung, i… i don’t know if i can do this.”

she grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. “you can. i know you can. you’re amazing, and this could be such a great opportunity for you. and for us.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of her request. joining a band was a big commitment, but the idea of playing music with others, of sharing that connection, was tempting. besides, you couldn't deny chaeyoung anything when she looked at you with those pleading eyes.

“alright,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i’ll do it.”chaeyoung practically squealed with delight, hugging you tightly. “thank you, thank you, thank you! you won’t regret it, i promise.”

your first encounter with the band took place in their practice studio, a space filled with the rich scent of old instruments and the echo of past performances. when you arrived, beomgyu, yeonjun, taehyun, and kai were already there, their presence creating a lively buzz in the room. the setup was intimate—four chairs arranged in a semi-circle with instruments strewn about, evidence of countless hours spent together.

beomgyu greeted you first, his gaze warm yet scrutinizing. “hey, you must be the new applicant. i’m beomgyu, the bassist.”

you nodded, trying to steady your nerves. “yeah, that’s me. nice to meet you.”

yeonjun, with his easygoing demeanor, flashed a reassuring smile. “i’m yeonjun, the drummer. welcome to the band.”

taehyun, the lead guitarist with an intense focus, gave a nod of acknowledgment. “taehyun. let’s see what you’ve got.”

kai, the youngest and the most energetic of the group, leaned in with a grin. “i’m kai. excited to hear you play!”

as you set up your guitar and adjusted the microphone, the room filled with a quiet anticipation. your heart pounded in your chest as you prepared for your audition. chaeyoung stood by the side, her supportive presence a small comfort amidst your growing anxiety.

you started with a familiar song, one you’d practiced tirelessly in your room. your fingers trembled slightly as you strummed the first chords, your voice wavering but determined. the band members listened intently, their expressions ranging from casual interest to focused concentration.

when you finished, there was a moment of silence. beomgyu broke it with a thoughtful nod. “not bad. your style is different from what we’re used to, but that’s not a bad thing.”

yeonjun added, “i agree. you’ve got potential. it’ll take some time to get used to playing with us, but i think you could fit in.”

taehyun’s gaze was piercing, but there was a hint of approval in his eyes. “we’re looking for someone who can bring something fresh to the table. if you’re up for the challenge, we’d be happy to have you.”

kai, always the enthusiast, clapped his hands. “great job! when can we start practicing together?”

chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with relief and joy as she hugged you tightly. “see? i told you you’d do great!”

the initial excitement quickly gave way to the reality of integrating into the band. you quickly learned that fitting into their established rhythm was more challenging than you’d anticipated. during the first few practice sessions, you struggled to synchronize with yeonjun’s drumming and taehyun’s lead guitar riffs. your attempts to harmonize with kai’s backing vocals often felt awkward, and you could sense the band’s growing frustration.

one particular practice, as you flubbed a crucial part of a song, yeonjun let out a sigh of frustration. “let’s take that from the top. we need to tighten up.”

beomgyu, sensing your growing frustration, pulled you aside during a break. “hey, don’t worry. it takes time to adjust. let’s work through this together.”

you nodded, grateful for his support. “thanks, beomgyu. i appreciate it.”

over the next few weeks, you and beomgyu spent extra time practicing together. he was patient and encouraging, helping you work through the rough patches. you started to notice a rhythm in your interactions, both musically and personally. he would often tease you about your tendency to overthink and offer playful suggestions to ease your nerves.

one evening, after a particularly successful practice session, you and beomgyu sat on the worn-out couch in the studio, sharing a moment of respite. “so, what made you stick with the band?” you asked, genuinely curious.

beomgyu shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face. “i guess i just enjoy making music with people who challenge me. and you’ve definitely brought a new dynamic to our sound.”

you smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “i’m glad to hear that. it’s been tough, but i’m starting to feel like i’m finding my place.”

beomgyu’s gaze softened. “you are. and you’re doing great. it’s all about finding the right groove and getting to know each other.”

with each practice session and performance, the bond between you and the band grew stronger. you started to feel more comfortable, both on stage and off. the initial awkwardness of your role began to fade as you settled into the rhythm of the group. the chemistry between you and beomgyu began to blossom, marked by shared laughter, spontaneous jams, and heartfelt conversations.

one evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, you all gathered in the studio’s lounge area. the dim lighting cast a warm glow over the room as the band members slumped into the worn-out couches, still buzzing from the energy of the session.

“hey, that last song was fire,” kai said, stretching out his arms. “we really nailed it.”

beomgyu, his bass still resting on his lap, looked over at you with a grin. “yeah, you were killing it tonight. i think we’ve finally hit our stride.”

you felt a flush of pride at his compliment. “thanks. it felt great playing with you guys.”

“i can tell,” beomgyu replied, his smile widening. “you’ve really found your groove. how’s everything been going for you outside the band?”

“busy,” you said with a laugh. “but it’s all good. i’m actually starting to enjoy the chaos.”

“chaos?” beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “sounds like a good story.”

you shrugged. “nothing too exciting. just balancing school and shits, you know how it is.”

the conversation drifted into lighter topics, with beomgyu and you trading jokes and anecdotes. it was moments like these, away from the pressures of practice, that made you realize how much you valued the connection you were building with him and the rest of the band.

chaeyoung’s efforts to get closer to beomgyu became increasingly noticeable. she would often linger after practice, her laughter ringing out in the studio as she shared stories and asked questions about his music. she seemed to be making every effort to draw his attention, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

one evening, chaeyoung caught you off guard as she approached you with a conspiratorial smile. “hey, so, did you notice how beomgyu was totally into that last song we played?”

you chuckled. “yeah, he seemed pretty pumped about it.”

chaeyoung leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “i’m thinking of asking him to grab coffee sometime. you know, just to talk more about his music. what do you think?”

“sounds like a good idea,” you replied, trying to sound supportive even though you felt a pang of discomfort. “i’m sure he’d love to chat more about it.”

“great!” chaeyoung said, her eyes lighting up. “i was hoping you’d help me figure out a good way to ask him. maybe during our next session?”

“sure,” you said with a nod, masking your unease. “i can help.”

despite your efforts to support chaeyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught in an awkward middle ground. you found yourself often standing back while chaeyoung and beomgyu engaged in deep conversations, your role feeling secondary. yet, even with this small discomfort, you still cherished the moments when you could connect with beomgyu and the rest of the band.

one evening, as the band wrapped up a particularly intense practice session, chaeyoung seized the opportunity to suggest they all grab dinner together. her tone was casual, but you could sense her underlying intent to include beomgyu in the plans.

“hey, we should all go out for dinner after practice,” she said with a bright, almost conspiratorial smile. “there’s this great new place i’ve been wanting to try. what do you think, beomgyu?”

beomgyu, who was adjusting the strap on his bass guitar, looked up with a thoughtful expression. “sure, that sounds good. i’m always up for trying new places.”

chaeyoung’s eyes lit up with excitement. “awesome! it’ll be fun to hang out outside of practice.”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. “sounds great. i’d love to join.”

the group made their way to the restaurant, and you found yourself feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. the place chaeyoung had picked was cozy, with dim lighting and a menu full of intriguing options. as everyone settled into their seats, chaeyoung made a point to sit next to beomgyu, her body angled towards him as she began chatting animatedly about the restaurant’s unique dishes.

“so, have you tried the truffle fries here?” chaeyoung asked, leaning slightly closer. “i’ve heard they’re amazing.”

beomgyu, who was studying the menu, looked up with a smile. “no, but they sound great. i’m definitely down to try them.”

chaeyoung’s excitement was palpable. “perfect! we’ll get a bunch of appetizers to share. oh, and what about your favorite bands, beomgyu? i’m curious to know what kind of music you’re into.”

beomgyu chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. “i’m into a mix of stuff—rock, jazz, a bit of indie. it really depends on my mood.”

as the evening unfolded, you couldn’t help but notice how chaeyoung maintained close proximity to beomgyu. she’d casually brush against him when reaching for the shared dishes or laugh a little too loudly at his jokes. each time she did, you could see the subtle pleasure in her eyes, and it was clear she was trying to catch his attention.

your own attempts at conversation felt stilted in comparison. you chatted with kai and the others, but whenever you tried to join in the conversation with beomgyu and chaeyoung, it felt like you were intruding. you awkwardly sipped your drink, trying to find a way to fit into the lively exchange.

as the evening progressed, you ended up sitting across from beomgyu. you watched him more closely now, observing the comfortable ease in his demeanor. he seemed genuinely engaged with chaeyoung, listening attentively and responding with thoughtful comments. his laughter was warm, and his eyes sparkled with a genuine interest that made you feel both envious and intrigued.

chaeyoung’s laughter was infectious, and it seemed to draw beomgyu in even more. “so, beomgyu,” she asked, her voice bright, “what inspired you to pick up the bass in the first place?”

beomgyu leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “i’ve always loved the rhythm and the groove. my older brother used to play, and i guess i just wanted to follow in his footsteps. plus, there’s something about the bass that just feels... essential to the music.”

“that’s really cool,” chaeyoung said, her eyes wide with admiration. “i love how passionate you are about it.”

you watched the exchange, feeling a pang of discomfort as you saw how effortlessly chaeyoung connected with beomgyu. you admired his passion, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined in the conversation.

the evening ended with everyone feeling satisfied and relaxed, the conversations flowing easily. as you all walked back to your respective homes, chaeyoung was buzzing with excitement, clearly thrilled with how the night had gone. you, on the other hand, found yourself lost in thought, as to why you are feeling a sudden thug on your chest upon remembering how close chaeyoung was with beomgyu earlier, and it felt wrong, you should’ve feel this way, not when your bestfriend if finally having more time with her crush.

another day, during a band rehearsal, chaeyoung suggested you help her with a surprise project for beomgyu—a personalized guitar pick. she wanted to give it to him as a gesture of appreciation for all his hard work and dedication. you agreed, though your heart wasn’t fully in it. you couldn’t help but wonder if this was her way of marking her territory, claiming her place in beomgyu’s life.

as you worked on the project together, chaeyoung’s enthusiasm was evident. “i really think this will make him happy,” she said, her eyes shining with hope. “he’s always so dedicated to the band, and this is a small way to show our appreciation.”

you nodded, trying to share in her excitement. “yeah, it’s a nice gesture. he’ll definitely appreciate it.”

when the day finally came to present the gift, chaeyoung was practically bouncing with anticipation. you watched as she handed the guitar pick to beomgyu, her smile radiant with pride. he accepted it with a surprised look, clearly touched by the thoughtful gesture.

“thanks, chaeyoung,” he said, his voice warm. “this is really cool. you didn’t have to, but i appreciate it.”

you could see the way chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with happiness, but you also noticed the way beomgyu’s gaze lingered on her, a soft smile playing on his lips, and it made your heart twist with a confusing mix of emotions.

despite your efforts to help chaeyoung, you began to notice subtle changes in beomgyu’s behavior towards you. at band practices, his interactions with you became more frequent and personal. what had once been brief exchanges about setlists and practice schedules now turned into longer conversations that delved into more personal territory.

one afternoon, as you were setting up your gear, beomgyu approached you with a thoughtful expression. “hey, i’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, casually leaning against the wall, “what’s your favorite song to play?”

you looked up, a bit surprised by the question. “oh, um, that’s a tough one. i really like ‘wonderwall’ by oasis. it’s got a great vibe.”

beomgyu nodded, his eyes lighting up with interest. “nice choice. i love that song too. the melody is just... it’s so catchy, you know?”

“yeah, exactly,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. “what about you? what’s your favorite?”

beomgyu thought for a moment. “i’d have to say ‘under the bridge’ by the red hot chili peppers. there’s something about the way the bass line carries the song that just resonates with me, but if i have to brag to someone, i’d choose any arctic monkey’s song.” he chuckles.

as he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you, a soft intensity in his eyes that made your heart race. there was a warmth in his expression that made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

the change in his behavior wasn’t limited to just band practice. during breaks, he would often find reasons to sit near you, casually mentioning his latest musical experiments or asking for your opinions on new tracks he was working on. his conversations with you were filled with personal anecdotes and stories from his life, and he seemed genuinely interested in hearing about yours.

one evening after practice, as the band packed up, beomgyu casually walked over to where you were putting away your equipment. “so, you mentioned you’re studying music theory. how’s that going?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

you glanced up, surprised by his interest. “it’s going well. it’s a lot of theory and practice, but i’m getting the hang of it. why do you ask?”

“just curious,” he said with a grin. “i’ve always thought about diving deeper into theory myself. it’s fascinating how it all connects.”

you smiled, feeling a sense of connection. “yeah, it is. it’s like uncovering the secrets behind the music.”

“exactly,” beomgyu said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “hey, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to come to a jam session this weekend. just a few of us hanging out and playing some music. it could be fun.”

your heart skipped a beat. “that sounds awesome. i’d love to.”

“great,” beomgyu said, his smile widening. “i’ll text you the details.”

as the week went on, you found yourself looking forward to the jam session with increasing anticipation. the way beomgyu interacted with you made you feel special, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more behind his actions.

the jam session arrived, and it was as laid-back and enjoyable as you had hoped. you found yourself immersed in the music, with beomgyu often glancing over at you with a smile that made your heart flutter. during a break, as you all sat around with drinks and snacks, beomgyu casually asked, “so, what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try musically but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

you thought for a moment. “i’ve always wanted to experiment with producing my own tracks. it seems like a fun way to explore different sounds and styles.”

“that’s cool,” beomgyu said, nodding thoughtfully. “i’ve done a bit of that myself. if you ever want to collaborate or need any tips, just let me know. i’d be happy to help.”

“thanks,” you said, feeling a rush of excitement. “i might take you up on that.”

the evening ended on a high note, with everyone in good spirits and the music flowing effortlessly. as you said your goodbyes, beomgyu lingered a bit longer, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart race.

“it was really great having you there tonight,” he said, his voice soft. “i hope we can do it again soon.”

“me too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i had a lot of fun.”

“awesome,” beomgyu said with a smile. “i’ll see you at practice.”

as you walked home, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between you and beomgyu. his attention and the personal nature of your conversations left you both exhilarated and curious about where things might lead.

one afternoon, after a particularly intense practice, beomgyu approached you with a small, hesitant smile. “hey, do you have a minute?”

you nodded, feeling a flutter of anticipation. “sure, what’s up?”

he led you to a quieter corner of the studio, away from the others. “i was thinking,” he began, his voice slightly uncertain, “that maybe we could work on a new song together. just the two of us.”

you felt a rush of excitement mixed with apprehension. “m-me? i mean, yeah, w-we could!”

as you worked on the song together, the atmosphere between you shifted. there were moments when your hands brushed, your eyes meeting in shared understanding. beomgyu’s smiles became more frequent, and his laughter seemed to come more easily around you. it was clear that he enjoyed your company and valued your input, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind his gestures.

one evening, as you and beomgyu took a break from working on the song, he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “you know,” he said softly, “i’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. you’ve got this way of making everything seem... better.”

you were taken aback, your breath catching in your throat. “thanks, beomgyu. i’ve enjoyed working with you too.”

his gaze lingered, and you could feel the tension in the air. there was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m glad you’re here.”

your internal conflict grew more pronounced as these interactions continued. you started to realize that your feelings for beomgyu were deepening, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them. you found yourself torn between your desire to support chaeyoung and your own growing affection for him.

one evening, as you and chaeyoung were leaving the studio, she turned to you with a hopeful smile. “so, how do you think things are going with beomgyu?”

you hesitated, unsure how to answer. “he’s been really great. we’ve been working on some new music together, and it’s been... good.”

chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “i knew you’d get along! i’m so glad. do you think he likes me?”

you swallowed hard, the weight of your promise to chaeyoung heavy on your shoulders. “i’m sure he does. he seems to appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

as you walked away, you felt a deep sense of conflict. the more time you spent with beomgyu, the more your own feelings grew. but you had made a promise to chaeyoung, and the thought of betraying that promise weighed heavily on you.

it was becoming increasingly clear that this situation would be more complicated than you had anticipated. your growing affection for beomgyu and your loyalty to chaeyoung were pulling you in different directions, leaving you to grapple with the tangled emotions that had become an inescapable part of your life.

the band had just wrapped up a particularly intense practice session. the studio, once alive with vibrant energy and the hum of instruments, now felt eerily still and heavy. sweat beaded on your brow as you put away your guitar, your fingers still tingling from the final, emotionally charged chords. the song you’d been working on was deeply emotional, its raw lyrics and haunting melody leaving everyone exhausted yet exhilarated. the last note seemed to linger in the air like a whisper of shared sentiment, an echo of the vulnerability and connection you all had just experienced.

as you wiped your face with a towel, you glanced around the studio and noticed beomgyu watching you from across the room. his usual playful demeanor was replaced by something more intense, almost somber. his eyes, usually bright and mischievous, were now soft and contemplative, their gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

beomgyu approached you as the band members began to pack up, their casual chatter and the clatter of equipment creating a backdrop of normalcy. “you were incredible tonight,” he said, his voice low and almost lost in the noise of the studio. the sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. his eyes held a softness you hadn’t seen before, making it hard to catch your breath.

“thanks, beomgyu,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. your voice came out softer than you intended, almost betraying the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

the air between you was thick with unspoken words, each of you caught in a delicate dance of emotion. the studio, once a lively hub of activity, now felt like a small, enclosed space where every glance and gesture seemed amplified. as the others began to leave, their conversations fading into the background, beomgyu’s eyes remained locked on yours.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken urgency.

you nodded, your heart pounding as you led him to a quieter corner of the studio. the silence that followed was almost unbearable, filled with the lingering echoes of your previous song. the room seemed to close in around you, the weight of anticipation pressing down on you both. beomgyu’s gaze was unwavering, a mix of vulnerability and resolve that made your own feelings swell.

“w-what do you wanna talk about?” you could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged, as beomgyu took a step closer. his eyes searched yours, seeking something that neither of you could quite name. suddenly, he leaned in, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and probing, as if he were trying to convey everything he felt in that single, fleeting moment. it was a kiss filled with longing, confusion, and an unspoken plea for clarity. the contact was gentle yet electrifying, an exploration of something deeply felt but hard to articulate.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, asking questions without words. you could see the hope and fear reflected in them, a mirror to your own tumultuous feelings. the silence stretched between you, each of you grappling with the weight of the moment.

“beomgyu...” you began, your voice trembling despite your attempt at calmness. “i can’t, we can’t.”

his brow furrowed in confusion and hurt. “why?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. the pain in his eyes was palpable, and it made your heart ache even more.

“we shouldn’t,” you replied, each word feeling like a weighty anchor dragging you down. the finality in your voice was almost a physical force, pushing him away. the room seemed to contract around you, intensifying the emotional distance that had suddenly opened up between you.

beomgyu’s expression shifted from confusion to hurt, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumping slightly. “i... i thought...”

without waiting for a response, you turned and fled the studio. the dim light of the corridor felt cold against the warmth of the emotions you were trying to escape. your heart pounded in your chest, each step away from him a painful reminder of the feelings you couldn’t fully confront. the echoes of your last moments with beomgyu seemed to follow you, a haunting reminder of what had just transpired.

as you reached the outside, the cool night air did little to calm the storm within you. you leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing, but the image of beomgyu’s hopeful eyes lingered in your mind, a painful reminder of what you had just denied.

the next few days were a blur of avoidance and reflection. you found yourself retreating from the band, your absence a noticeable gap in the group's dynamic. rehearsals felt awkward without your presence, the energy of the room slightly diminished. your decision to distance yourself from beomgyu and the band was driven by a chaotic swirl of emotions, leaving you feeling paralyzed and uncertain.

you spent long hours alone, grappling with the confusion and guilt that had taken over your thoughts. the warmth of beomgyu's kiss replayed in your mind, contrasting sharply with the clarity of your decision to pull away. every time you tried to rationalize your feelings, you found yourself trapped in a loop of doubt and self-recrimination.

your avoidance of the band was evident. when kai called you, his voice laced with concern, you made excuses. “i’m just swamped with assignments,” you said one evening, though the truth was far more complex and painful. “i need to catch up on some studying.”

kai’s voice softened, but you could hear the disappointment and worry. “you’ve been MIA for a while. we miss you. is everything okay?”

you hesitated, feeling the weight of her concern pressing down on you. “yeah, just... a lot going on. i’ll be back soon. promise.”

every encounter with beomgyu was now fraught with tension and awkwardness. when you accidentally ran into him in the hallway, you avoided eye contact, your heart racing as you mumbled a quick, “sorry, gotta run.” his puzzled expression was a sharp reminder of the unresolved feelings you were trying to escape.

one day, as you walked past the studio, you could hear the band inside, laughing and playing their instruments. the familiar sounds only served to deepen the ache in your chest. you paused for a moment, fighting the urge to open the door and join them, but the thought of facing beomgyu made your anxiety spike. instead, you turned on your heel and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

in a moment of weakness, you sought solace in a quiet coffee shop near campus. the café’s soft lighting and mellow music provided a temporary refuge from the turmoil inside you. as you sipped your coffee, you found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the steaming cup in front of you. the barista’s cheery greeting when he brought your order seemed to jar you from your reverie.

“everything alright?” he asked, noticing the pensive look on your face.

you forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “yeah, just... thinking things over.”

as you sat there, your phone buzzed with a message from taehyun. [hey, we’re meeting at our favorite diner tonight. we haven’t seen you in ages. please come.]

you stared at the message, your emotions a turbulent mix of guilt and longing. you knew the band was trying to reach out, and taehyun’s request made you feel even more isolated. you typed a quick reply. [i’m sorry, can’t make it tonight. maybe next time.]

later that evening, you walked aimlessly around campus, trying to clear your mind. the night air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions you were navigating. you found yourself near the band’s usual practice spot, where the faint strains of music could still be heard through the closed door. the sound was like a beacon, pulling you in, but you resisted the urge to go inside.

instead, you leaned against a nearby wall, staring at the ground, and tried to silence the conflicting thoughts racing through your mind. you missed the time where you bond, the music, and most of all, the connection you felt with beomgyu. but the guilt over your decisions and the fear of complicating things further held you back.

as you stood there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching. you glanced up to see beomgyu and a couple of the other band members walking toward the practice space. beomgyu’s eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, and you saw a flicker of recognition and sadness in his gaze. you quickly averted your eyes and pushed off the wall, heading in the opposite direction. the weight of his gaze lingered on you, a painful reminder of the unresolved feelings and the barrier you had built between yourselves.

the next few days continued in this pattern of avoidance and reflection. you tried to immerse yourself in other activities—studying, hanging out with friends, and even joining a new club—to distract yourself from the growing rift between you and the band. but no matter how hard you tried, the pull of your unresolved feelings and the ache of missing the band’s presence remained ever-present.

you avoided the band’s practices, your absence becoming a topic of concern and whispers among the members. chaeyoung tried to reach out, but you deflected her inquiries with vague responses, unable to explain the complexity of what you were going through. the weight of your decisions and the growing distance between you and those you cared about only seemed to deepen with each passing day.

chaeyoung, on the other hand, continued her efforts to get closer to beomgyu. she seemed determined to pursue him, and you found yourself reluctantly setting up more opportunities for them to spend time together while you tried your best to ditch practices and avoid them, beomgyu to be exact. each one a painful reminder of your own conflicted heart.

the tension between you and chaeyoung suddenly grew, the strain becoming increasingly visible. her enthusiasm for beomgyu seemed to highlight the awkwardness between you two. one evening, after an especially intense practice, you returned to the band. the absence of your usual presence had left a noticeable void, and the atmosphere was tinged with unresolved emotions.

beomgyu, noticing your arrival, tried to catch you alone. his face was a mix of concern and frustration, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more intense. “why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken frustration. “and why are you setting me up with chaeyoung when you clearly know how i feel about you?”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, the force of his emotions crashing into your already turbulent heart. you were taken aback, stammering as you struggled to find the right response amidst the swirling chaos of your feelings. “i... i just needed some time,” you said, your voice cracking under the strain. “i don’t know what to do.”

beomgyu’s eyes softened, but his frustration remained. “what do you mean, you don’t know what to do? you’ve been avoiding me for days, and every time i try to talk to you, you shut me out. and now you’re pushing me toward chaeyoung? do you even realize how confusing this is?”

the words were like daggers, each one cutting deeper into the wound you’d been trying to hide. “it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “i didn’t mean to lead anyone on. i’m just... i’m just trying to figure things out.”

before you could finish, chaeyoung, who had been lingering just outside the practice room, overheard the exchange. her face was a mix of hurt and anger as she stormed in, her eyes blazing with a mix of betrayal and indignation. “so this is what’s been going on?” she demanded, her voice echoing with pain. “you knew all along, didn’t you? and yet you kept pushing me toward beomgyu!”

you turned to face her, your heart breaking at the sight of her wounded expression. “chaeyoung, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

chaeyoung’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, her disappointment palpable. “you should’ve told me sooner instead of making me look like a fool! i thought we were friends. i didn’t know when it started, but now i do. you’ve put me in a horrible position.”

“i don’t even know when it started,” you admitted, your own tears spilling over. “i didn’t mean to keep it from you. i just... i didn’t know how to handle it.”

chaeyoung’s expression softened slightly, though the hurt in her eyes was still clear. “you know that i treasure you so much! i can live without him, but you... i’m disappointed.” you tried to hold her hand but she refuse it by pushing your hand away.

chaeyoung shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolve. “i need some space,” she said, her voice shaking. “i can’t do this right now.”

as chaeyoung turned to leave, you felt a pang of guilt and helplessness. “please, chaeyoung, let’s talk later. i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you called after her, but she didn’t stop.

the room felt heavy with unresolved emotions as chaeyoung walked out, leaving you and beomgyu standing in the aftermath of the confrontation. you watched her leave, feeling a deep sense of regret and sorrow.

stepping out of the practice room, you almost collided with chaeyoung, who was standing just outside the door, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. your eyes met hers, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to hang between you.

“chaeyoung, wait,” you started, but she held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“i need to be alone,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “just... stay away from me for now.”

you watched her walk away, your heart aching as the door closed behind her. the confrontation had left you feeling empty and lost, with the weight of your actions and their consequences pressing heavily on your shoulders. the path forward seemed unclear, and the pain of seeing both chaeyoung and beomgyu hurt by your choices was almost too much to bear.

the confrontation left you feeling bare and overwhelmed, as if the weight of your choices was pressing down on you. you were torn between listening to your mind, which urged you to stay away from the complications, and following your heart, despite the potential for more chaos. each option felt heavy with its own consequences, making the decision feel almost too much to bear.

on a painfully monday morning, thanks to your bothered sleep and blood-shot eyes from crying to sleep, yeonjun planned a meeting announcing the upcoming performance the band is going to be at, it’s for the school festival which is three weeks from now. 

the days leading up to the big performance were a whirlwind of tension and emotional strain. the band’s rehearsals became increasingly fraught with unspoken conflicts. you and beomgyu found yourselves in the same space, but the atmosphere was thick with unresolved feelings. each practice felt like a tightrope walk between maintaining professionalism and confronting the personal problems between you.

you struggled to focus on the music. every note seemed to echo your inner confusion. the mere presence of beomgyu was a constant reminder of the kiss and the subsequent fallout. whenever practice ended, you would hastily pack up your things and slip out of the room before beomgyu had a chance to approach you. your heart raced as you made your way for the exit, desperate to escape the weight of the situation.

one evening, after an intense rehearsal, you were packing up your guitar when you felt beomgyu’s presence behind you. he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention. “hey, can we talk for a second?”

you stiffened, keeping your back turned. “i’m really sorry, beomgyu. i have to go.”

before he could respond, you grabbed your bag and quickly made your way to the door. you could hear his frustrated sigh as you exited the studio. you barely made it out into the hallway before you broke into a brisk walk, trying to put as much distance between you and the uncomfortable conversation.

the following day, during another practice, you could feel beomgyu’s gaze on you. his attempts to catch your eye were evident as he tried to gauge your mood. at one point, he caught up with you in the break room where you were refilling your water bottle.

“i don’t understand why you’re avoiding me,” beomgyu said, his voice filled with frustration. “we need to talk about what happened.”

you forced a tight smile, avoiding his eyes. “i know. but not right now. i really need to focus on the music.”

beomgyu’s expression hardened. “this isn’t just about the music anymore. it’s about us. you can’t keep running away.”

before he could say more, you turned and hurried back to the practice room, your heart pounding in your chest. you hoped that by diving back into the music, you could drown out the guilt and confusion that plagued you.

a few days later, after an exhausting rehearsal, you were again at the edge of the studio, packing up your gear. beomgyu approached you once more, his tone softer but still filled with a pleading urgency. “please, can we at least talk for a few minutes? it’s really important.”

you avoided his gaze, focusing intently on zipping up your bag. “i’m really tired, beomgyu. maybe another time?”

“we’ve been saying ‘another time’ for days,” he said, his voice rising slightly in frustration. “we can’t keep doing this.”

you didn’t answer, quickly slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking briskly toward the exit. you heard his footsteps behind you, but you didn’t slow down. the practice room door closed behind you with a decisive thud, leaving you alone in the hallway as you made your way out of the building, your breath coming in ragged bursts.

the tension reached a breaking point during a late-night practice session. as soon as the final chord was struck and the last note faded, you grabbed your things and tried to make another hasty exit. but beomgyu was waiting for you, his face set in a determined expression.

“this is getting ridiculous,” he said, stepping in front of the door as you tried to leave. “you can’t keep avoiding me forever.”

your pulse quickened, and you looked at him with a mix of frustration and sadness. “i don’t have the energy for this right now, beomgyu. just... let me go.”

“i can’t do that,” he said, his voice softer now. “we need to sort this out. it’s affecting the band, and it’s affecting us.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “i know. but every time we talk, it feels like it only makes things worse. is there even us?”

you saw how his emotion changed, his eyes became more soft with his eyebrows furrowed, and it almost crushed your heart into pieces. “t-then let’s just talk,” he said, stepping closer. “no pressure, just... honestly.”

you took a deep breath, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “i can’t. not yet. i’m still figuring things out.”

beomgyu’s face softened with concern. “please, don’t shut me out. i want to understand.”

with a heavy heart, you pushed past him and walked out of the studio. the cool night air hit your face as you hurried away, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. the sight of beomgyu standing alone in the doorway, his expression a mix of frustration and heartbreak, stayed with you long after you had left the building.

chaeyoung, meanwhile, had been distant and cold. the once easy trust of friendship between you had dissolved into a frosty silence. she avoided eye contact and kept conversations to a minimum, her demeanor a stark contrast to the warmth she had once shown. living together only added to the strain. each night, after band practice, you found yourself lingering on the school grounds until late, just to avoid the awkwardness of returning home to an increasingly strained atmosphere. the nights seemed endless as you waited for the right moment to return home, praying that somehow, things would resolve themselves.

one particularly chilly evening, around 9 pm, you were sitting alone on a bench near the school grounds. the practice had ended hours ago, and you were waiting for the right moment to head home, dreading the silent, uncomfortable atmosphere that awaited you. the dim streetlights cast long shadows on the deserted grounds, mirroring the isolation you felt.

you sighed deeply, your breath visible in the cold air. the empty grounds were a reflection of your emotional state—silent and still, waiting for something to change. you glanced at your watch, wishing time would move faster so you could escape the lingering anxiety.

as you sat lost in thought, yeonjun approached, his footsteps crunching on the gravel. he looked at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. “you’re still here?” he asked, taking a seat beside you without waiting for an invitation.

you shrugged, trying to mask your discomfort. “just needed some time to clear my head.”

yeonjun studied you for a moment, then spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “you know, this awkwardness between you and beomgyu is starting to affect the band. everyone can feel it, and it’s not just about the performance anymore.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “i know. i just... don’t know how to fix it.”

“maybe you should be true to yourself for once,” yeonjun suggested. “think about why you’re avoiding him. and don’t forget about chaeyoung. you two need to talk things through.”

his advice, though simple, resonated deeply. you nodded, taking his words to heart. “thanks, yeonjun. i’ll think about it.”

that night, determined to make amends, you decided to confront the situation head-on. after practice the next day, you went to a nearby store and bought two large bowls of chaeyoung’s favorite ramen. when you arrived home, the smell of the ramen filled the small apartment.

chaeyoung was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through her phone with a detached air. you placed the ramen on the table and took a deep breath. “i thought you might like this,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“what are you doing here.” she said, not even glancing towards you.

“i figured we have to talk..” you whispered, you voice breaking through each word.

chaeyoung looked up, her expression softening slightly as she took in the gesture. “make sure that it’s worth my time,” she said coldly, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

you sat down across from her, trying to maintain a hopeful smile. “i know things have been rough between us. i’m sorry for not being honest with you sooner.”

chaeyoung’s eyes softened as she stirred the ramen. “you know, i can deal with a broken heart. i’ve been through it before. what i can’t handle is losing you as a friend.”

the sincerity in her voice cut through your anxiety. “i didn’t want to hurt you. i was just trying to figure things out.”

chaeyoung sighed, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “i think you and beomgyu actually look good together. maybe you should give each other a try. i can handle another heartbreak, but losing you would be too much.”

the conversation opened the floodgates of emotion. you realized that chaeyoung valued your friendship above all else, and her willingness to support you despite the pain spoke volumes. you reached across the table and took her hand, the gesture a silent apology and an offer of reconciliation.

“that means a lot, chaeyoung,” you said softly. “thank you for being understanding.”

chaeyoung gave you a small, relieved smile. “i’m glad we talked. just... try not to let things get so complicated next time, okay?”

“i’ll do my best,” you promised, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

as the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves curled up together on your shared bed. the comforting warmth of her presence was a balm to your frayed nerves. you talked and laughed, reminiscing about old times, and the tension between you dissipated with each shared memory and whispered confession. it was a moment of healing, the rekindling of a cherished friendship that had weathered the storm.

one week before the performance, you began to feel a sense of relief. the conversations with yeonjun and chaeyoung had lifted a heavy burden, and you were attending band practices with renewed focus. though the anxiety about beomgyu still lingered, you were determined to sort through your feelings and confront whatever was next.

the last evening before the big performance, the practice session went smoothly. the room was filled with the familiar hum of instruments and the rhythm of music. throughout the practice, you and beomgyu exchanged furtive glances, a mix of unspoken emotions passing between you. the atmosphere was charged, but neither of you made the first move to bridge the gap.

as practice concluded, you told everyone you’d be quick and just needed to grab some water. when you returned to the band room, it was nearly empty. only yeonjun and taehyun remained, engaged in a low-key conversation. your heart sank as you realized beomgyu was nowhere to be seen.

as you picked up your bag, a folded piece of paper fell to the floor. you bent down and retrieved it, noticing a guitar pick tucked inside. unfolding the note, you saw beomgyu’s handwriting:

“i know you won’t listen to me, but i hope you will read my letters at least. —beomgyu”

confused, you glanced around, searching for beomgyu, despite know he was already gone. taehyun, observing your puzzled expression, spoke up. “i think there’s another note in your bag. beomgyu put a notebook there too.”

curiosity and worry surged through you, prompting you to dig through your bag. you discovered a notebook, its pages filled with beomgyu’s thoughts. the first entry was raw and revealing:

“i remember the first time i really noticed you. you were playing that red guitar of yours, your hair a bit messy, like you had just rolled out of bed. heheh (i actually think it looks good on you) there was something about the way you got lost in your music, so focused, so at ease with yourself. i couldn’t stop watching. i didn’t want to admit it, but that’s when i started paying attention.”

the next few entries showed beomgyu’s growing awareness of his feelings:

“i started finding excuses to be around you more. the way you’d smile after hitting a tricky chord, or how you’d cheer me on during my solos—it all started to matter a lot. i thought it was just a phase (lol), but the more i got to know you, the more it felt like something real.”

“then we had that night—the kiss. it was a mistake, or at least that’s what i tried to convince myself. but deep down, it felt like the start of something confusing and complicated. i wanted to fix things, but every time i tried, it seemed like i only made things worse.”

“now, with the performance coming up, i’m feeling this weight. i don’t know if we’ll have another chance to sort things out. it’s been hard trying to figure out how to make things right before we all move on. i just hope we can talk before it’s too late.”

your heart raced as you flipped to the last page. there, you found a sketch of a girl holding a red guitar. it was you, drawn with such detail and tenderness that it took your breath away. next to the sketch were lyrics:

“through the band, i discovered you i’m grateful for the music you appeared so unexpectedly with your red guitar in my studio and as you sang, i was instantly captivated i’ll write a song with you as its title the lyrics may not be ready but the melody comes first you’re the one i’ve been waiting for i’m ready to be genuine opening the door, i once believed, i couldn’t bear it any longer” - fuck, is it too cheesy? i don’t know… i just miss you.

the lyrics were written multiple times, with some lines crossed out and rewritten, showing how much thought beomgyu had put into them. the repeated attempts, the crossed-out words—everything spoke of his deep desire to get it right.

your heart thumped wildly in your chest as you absorbed the significance of his words and the heartfelt sentiment behind the song. tears welled in your eyes as you closed the notebook and looked at yeonjun and taehyun.

“where is he?” you asked, your voice trembling. “beomgyu, where is he?”

“who?” taehyun asked, clearly confused.

“beomgyu! where did he go?” you repeated, your urgency growing as tears began to spill.

“i believe he went home already,” yeonjun said.

“you can try to catch him; he’s a slow walker—” taehyun began, but before he could finish, you had already shoved the notebook back into your bag, grabbed your things, and bolted out of the room.

you raced through the dimly lit corridors, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you sprinted through the campus grounds, desperately searching for beomgyu. each second felt like an eternity as you scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

you ran to the usual places you thought he might be—the old practice rooms, the quiet spots near the campus park—but he was nowhere to be found. the night air was cool against your flushed face, but the chill did little to cool the fire in your chest.

your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, the rhythmic thud a reminder of your growing desperation. you crouched on the ground, the cold seeping through your clothes as you struggled to catch your breath. the thought of not having the chance to tell him about your feelings, of him giving you the letter as a closure to move on, weighed heavily on you. tears streamed down your face as you walked home, feeling utterly defeated.

when you finally arrived home, the weight of the night’s events seemed to settle heavily on your shoulders. the house was quiet, the kind of quiet that amplified every little noise and seemed to echo your disheartened thoughts. the door creaked open, and as you stepped inside, the emptiness of the space felt almost suffocating.

chaeyoung was waiting for you. she had sensed your distress even before you had the chance to say anything. without a word, she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug. her arms wrapped around you tightly, a silent gesture of support and understanding. you felt the warmth of her body, her comforting presence dissolving the tension that had built up inside you throughout the evening.

“hey,” she whispered softly, her voice a gentle balm to your aching heart. “it’s gonna be okay.”

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking free. chaeyoung’s soothing words, combined with her embrace, were a small island of calm in the storm of emotions you were experiencing. the comfort she offered was genuine, and it helped to remind you that you didn’t have to face this alone.

chaeyoung held you for a long moment, allowing you to cry it out. her hand gently stroked your back, a rhythmic reassurance that she was there for you. “it’s alright,” she murmured, “we’ll figure it out. just breathe.”

the next morning, the day of the big performance, you woke up with a tangled mess of thoughts. the weight of the previous night pressed heavily on your mind, and the comfort of your bed felt like an irresistible temptation. you lay there, tangled in blankets, every fiber of your being urging you to stay in this cocoon of warmth and forget about everything.

but then chaeyoung’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, sharp and clear. “hey,” she said firmly, her voice breaking through the fog of indecision. “if this is the last time you’re going to see him, then fuck that and go! look at him all you can, don’t waste the chance. come on, i didn’t raise you like that.”

her words were a jolt, a wake-up call that pulled you from the comfort of denial and into the reality of the situation. chaeyoung’s unwavering resolve and concern for you pierced through your indecision, and you knew she was right. if this was the final chance to confront your feelings, you couldn’t waste it. you needed to be brave, even if it felt terrifying.

when you arrived at the venue for the final rehearsal, the atmosphere was charged with tension. the anticipation of the upcoming performance was palpable, but there was an undercurrent of unease that seemed to hover in the air. you glanced around the room, expecting to see the familiar faces of your bandmates, but there were only three of them present.

the absence of one crucial member was glaringly obvious. “where’s beomgyu?” you asked, your voice betraying your anxiety. the concern was evident in your tone, and your eyes scanned the room for any sign of him.

yeonjun looked up from where he was adjusting his equipment, his brow furrowed in frustration. “he’s not responding to our texts,” he explained. “so, we’ll have soobin as his proxy for now.”

“yeah, he’ll be late i guess,” kai added, trying to sound reassuring despite the clear concern in his voice. “we’re not sure what’s going on with him.”

you nodded, trying to push aside the worry gnawing at you. the rehearsal proceeded, but the empty space where beomgyu should have been felt like a void that you couldn’t ignore.

the rehearsal ended, and you found yourself backstage, preparing for your turn on stage. you sat on a bench, your fingers fidgeting with the edges of your clothing, the absence of beomgyu weighing heavily on your mind. the backstage area was bustling with activity, but your focus was entirely on the empty spot where he should have been.

the door to the backstage area swung open with a suddenness that made you look up. the familiar chorus of greetings and exclamations filled the space, but your attention was solely on the figure who had just entered. beomgyu stood in the doorway, his usual delicate eyes now showing a complex mix of emotions that you couldn’t quite interpret. his hair was styled the same as always, framing his face, but today it seemed as though he was carrying an invisible weight.

he was dressed in a black cardigan over a white polo, paired with a black tie, torn black shorts, and his signature chucky shoes. his guitar was slung casually over his shoulder, but it was clear that he was focused on something more than just the instrument.

the sight of him stirred a flurry of emotions inside you—hope, confusion, anxiety. the connection between you seemed visible, even though the tension in the air was almost tangible. beomgyu’s eyes locked onto yours for a moment, and it felt as though time itself had momentarily stopped.

the room seemed to hold its breath as the two of you stared at each other. for a fleeting instant, it felt as if everything else had faded away, leaving just the two of you and the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

beomgyu’s heart raced when he walked into the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. the sleepless night had left him utterly drained, and the weight of his apprehensions pressed down on him with every beat of his heart. he had spent hours pouring his feelings into the notebook, hoping it would be enough to bridge the gap between you. now, the fear that his words had fallen on deaf ears gnawed at him. the sight of you, barely meeting his gaze, made that fear even more tangible.

“sorry i’m late,” he said, his voice lacking its usual warmth and confidence. “i had trouble sleeping last night. i hope i didn’t mess things up too badly.”

hearing his words only made your heart ache more. was he thinking about you, too? the vulnerability in his voice made you wonder if he was struggling with his own feelings. but before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, the sound coordinator knocked on the door. “hey, you’re up next!” he called, breaking the moment.

the rush of adrenaline surged through you as you stood up, gripping your red guitar tightly. you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. this was it. you glanced over at beomgyu, who was talking to yeonjun, possibly explaining his late arrival.

“is everything okay with you?” yeonjun asked beomgyu, his tone laced with concern. “we’ve got just a bit of time before you go on.”

beomgyu nodded, though his expression was troubled. “yeah, just… needed to get my head straight. thanks for covering for me.”

you tried to push your swirling thoughts aside, focusing on the performance ahead. backstage, the crew hurriedly prepared the equipment, adjusting microphones and checking amplifiers. you spotted chaeyoung in the audience, her encouraging smile offering a small boost of confidence. you could see her giving you a thumbs-up, and it made you feel a bit more grounded.

as you took your place on stage, you could feel beomgyu’s eyes on you, even as you busied yourself with setting up your gear. his presence was almost palpable, adding to your already heightened nerves.

the introduction song started, the energetic beat filling the venue. the crowd’s applause and cheers created a vibrant atmosphere. yeonjun stepped up to the mic, his voice clear and upbeat as he began introducing the band members.

the setlist progressed smoothly, each song blending seamlessly into the next with transitions that kept the crowd energized. the band’s performance was electric, and the audience’s enthusiasm was noticeable. but as the performance reached the last few songs, yeonjun announce that there will be last two song on the list, you noticed something odd. there was a mix-up in the setlist. you were sure that only one song was left—the one you and beomgyu had written together.

but before you even get lost on your mind the drum sticks signaled the start of the final song, your thoughts snapped back to the stage. kai had stopped playing the keyboard and held the mic ready, his expression serious yet excited.

the lyrics began to flow through the venue, each word resonating deeply within you:

unnoticed, the noises around us fade away, is it obvious that there's something one of us wants to admit? as time passes, we don't realize that only we remain here. our eyes meet, yearning to say, you take my heart to the heavens, giving me a joy that feels true. there's nothing more to seek; you are mine, and i am yours, and here we lose ourselves. time has flown by, and we haven't even noticed that only we remain. our eyes meet, yearning to say, you take my heart to the heavens, giving me a joy that feels true. there's nothing more to seek; you are mine, and i am yours, and here we lose ourselves. we lose ourselves in each other. we lose ourselves in each other.

as kai sang, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from beomgyu. the spotlight cast soft shadows on his face, highlighting the familiar contours you had come to know so well. each lyric of the song seemed to resonate with memories of your time together, drawing you into a whirlpool of recollections.

you remembered those late-night practice sessions, the room filled with the soft strum of guitars and the clinking of coffee cups. you and beomgyu would lose track of time, laughing over missed notes and exchanging knowing glances. one night, as the clock ticked past midnight, beomgyu had paused his playing and looked over at you.

“why do we always end up here?” he’d asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “it’s like our own little world.” you’d grinned, nodding in agreement. “maybe it’s because we can just be ourselves here. no need to pretend.”

you thought about the meals you’d shared after exhausting rehearsals, grabbing quick bites from a local convenience store. you’d both been too tired to care about anything more than satisfying your hunger, but those moments had been filled with genuine conversation and laughter.

“remember that time we tried to make our own ramen?” beomgyu had said, chuckling as he sipped his cup noodles. “we thought it would be a culinary masterpiece.”

you had laughed, shaking your head. “more like a disaster in a cup.”

and those small, intimate moments when it was just the two of you. Like that one afternoon in the practice room when you had both been too tired to play. you’d ended up sprawled on the floor, talking about everything and nothing.

“sometime i think,” beomgyu had mused, “that we don’t need to say much to understand each other. it’s like we already know what the other is thinking.”

“yeah,” you’d replied, “sometimes silence speaks louder than words.”

now, as kai’s voice wrapped around the final lines of the song, you felt a wave of resolve wash over you. the lyrics spoke of that intangible bond, the silent connection that defied explanation.

you couldn’t ignore these feelings any longer. the song’s message, combined with your shared experiences, had made your decision clear. you were going to confess your feelings to beomgyu, no matter how terrifying it felt. you tightened your grip on your guitar, your heart pounding in your chest. it was now or never.

when the final chord resonated through the venue and the crowd erupted into cheers, the noise seemed to amplify the storm inside you. yeonjun stepped up to the mic, his voice full of energy.

“this next song was a collaboration between our very own beomgyu and y/n,” he announced, a proud smile on his face. “it’s about the things we can’t always put into words, the unspoken connection that binds two people together. it’s about finding a way to express what words alone can’t capture.”

the spotlight shifted to you and beomgyu, illuminating the space between you. in that brief moment, your eyes met, and a wave of fear and excitement washed over you. beomgyu’s gaze was intense, filled with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place.

you took a deep breath, your resolve hardening. this was your chance to be honest, to put everything on the line. you were going to confess your feelings to beomgyu, no matter what.

after the last song, the lights in the auditorium abruptly cut off, plunging the space into darkness. a murmur of confusion swept through the crowd as you fumbled to make out shapes in the dimness. the auditorium, being a closed area, seemed to amplify the darkness. but just as quickly as the lights had gone out, they flickered back on, casting a bright, almost blinding light over the stage.

you blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness. and there, standing in the middle of the stage, was beomgyu. he was wearing taehyun’s guitar and adjusting the standing mic with a mixture of nervousness and determination. he cleared his throat, his voice resonating through the microphone.

“hello, i’m beomgyu,” he began, his tone holding a rare softness. “the band’s bassist. i don’t sing a lot on sets,” he paused, a shy chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “i have a special set, uh... for a special someone.”

the words seemed to hang in the air, and you could see his eyes flicker in your direction before he turned back to the crowd. his hands began to strum the guitar, and an unfamiliar melody started to fill the auditorium. it was different from the usual songs he played, and though you’d heard him sing before, this was something deeply personal.

he kept stealing glances at you, his fingers dancing over the strings with a mix of vulnerability and hope. the room seemed to narrow down to just the two of you as he sang the first verse:

“through the band, i discovered you…”

the song's lyrics were hauntingly familiar, echoing the melody from the last page of the notebook. the realization hit you like a wave, and you felt your heart race. the notebook, the lyrics—it was all coming together in this intimate performance.

as he sang, every word seemed to cut through the chaos of your thoughts. the lyrics spoke of unspoken feelings, of discovering something precious through shared moments. the melody wove a story of connection and understanding, each note filled with emotion.

you wiped away the tears that had started cascading down your cheeks. your heart felt like it was being tugged by an invisible force, leading you to move. your feet seemed to act on their own, carrying you toward beomgyu as if guided by the sincerity in his song.

the crowd’s noise faded into the background as you approached him. beomgyu’s eyes locked onto yours as he strummed the final chords, his expression a mix of relief and nervous anticipation. you saw him begin to walk toward you, but before he could close the distance, you ran, your legs propelling you forward in a desperate bid to reach him.

you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace, and in that moment, the world felt like it had stopped. it was just the two of you, standing in the center of the stage, with your hearts speaking louder than any words could.

“it’s the same lyrics…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “the same as what you wrote on the last page…”

beomgyu’s breath was warm against your forehead. “you read it…” he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and vulnerability.

“of course i did,” you replied, your forehead resting against his. his eyes softened, and before he could say another word, you leaned in and captured his lips with yours. the kiss was a fusion of all the feelings you had kept bottled up, a silent confession that needed no words.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, beomgyu’s cheeks were flushed a deep red. “t-there are people watching…” he whispered, his voice laced with embarrassment.

the realization hit you like a splash of cold water. the crowd’s cheers and laughter had reached a crescendo, and your bandmates were all staring at you with amused expressions.

“oh, fuck it,” you said, a determined smile spreading across your face. you grabbed beomgyu’s hands tightly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. you looked at him with a mixture of mischief and resolve before starting to run.

the two of you sprinted toward the backstage exit, hand in hand, the noise of the crowd and the teasing laughter of your bandmates fading behind you. as you pulled beomgyu along, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. this was your moment, and no one could take it away from you.

gyo's note: this is by far the longest one i've written, this idea came to my mind when i rewatched the movie 20th century girl and when i tell u i had 2-3 business days of grieving over it and that's when the idea of heartstrings started. it was also heavily inspired with the song MRT and Lia, so if you guys would like to, you can check them out for yourself (it's a good song, and the exact song i used for lyrics part, i just translated it into english) ++ i love me a bassist!beomgyu actually anything that beomgyu does :<< i think i'm smitten you guys (sighs) this note is longer than i expected so i'll end this here by saying that i have a new story idea, a series actually, for yeonjun and soobin yayyy ^^ please like and reblog, it helps my works to have more engagement, and if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading. you will be loved, xoxo!

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