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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

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Part 6: Leaps of Faith

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

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?�� Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.

And then Paige looks away.

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.

***

July 2024

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Click.

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.

***

December 2024

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.

“Say it again,” Paige demands.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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shigayokagayama · 8 months ago

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The Beach Omake And Authorial Intent

initially i was going to save this for a big teru analysis i had cooking however i eventually ended up deciding that it would feel like a really long tangent in its original context and probably deserves a separate post.

when it comes to the whole "teru's parents" thing i generally see two competing ideas on it

a. terus absent parents are the real villains of mob psycho and are the direct cause of everything wrong with his life and any and all teru analysis must center around this fact

b. terus parents being absent in the first place is only revealed in an omake and only exists for plot convenience and is not something that should be focused on at all when writing him

and whenever i see either of these my mind always drifts to the question of authorial intent. i know how people are reading this information, but how are we supposed to? i know death of the author is becoming more of a common thing in fandom spaces (albeit usually misused) but i feel like a better understanding of why this omake exists and how we're supposed to read it might help to better synthesize two takes that seems to be completely at odds with each other.

okay first i want to go over the actual placement of the beach omake in the update schedule of the manga because, unlike most other omakes, i feel like this ones placement in the schedule of page releases is actually super relevant

the vast majority of omakes come at the end of weekly updates. you finish reading the usually 15-20 pages ONE put out and then you get a little bonus comic at the end, usually something funny or a slice of life but but occasionally more serious. multi part omakes are usually spread out over multiple updates, making you wait a couple weeks for a punchline.

beach omake is not that. between chapters 99 (mob gets hit by a car) and 100 (the whole rest of the omake) there was a 6 week hiatus from normal pages and in this hiatus is where we get beach omake. reading it all together immediately cuts away the sort of "slice of life sunday paper comic" tone other multi part omakes have and make you read it as a part of the actual main story, since that's how you're used to reading these weekly updates.

now the actual tone. generally the multi part omakes exist to be long punchlines and the rare emotional ones are a single page for maximum impact. beach omake has a very different structure compared to, say, the haunted doll omake or the pot of happiness.

off the bat from the first two pages there's not really a joke. the tone mostly seems kind of melancholic. mobs expression for the middle section of the second page (maybe purposely) is obscured by the panel breaking off, it's hard to tell his reaction, all our attention is directed at teru. with all of the panels taken up by dialogue (primarily his own), we're being asked to focus on what he's saying:

-teru lives alone

-he lives alone because his parents live overseas

-he hasnt seen them in a while

-he doesnt like having nothing to do

-he doesnt like being alone

all of this information is delivered with an extremely casual expression from him, implying that it's not something that seems ll the out of the ordinary for him. mob, on the other hand...

the hesitation before he says anything and the way his expression is obscured seems to imply something is... off... about this information to him. this isn't a handwaved "oh mob is walking home from school after passing out because he needs to for plot reasons", we're reacting to this information like it's weird.

the next two pages are, mostly, a lot more of what we expect out of a mob psycho omake. the first one works as a standalone joke page, teru is bad at identifying animals which leads to him showing reigen a roach, something reigen is terrified of, instead of a beetle.

the second page starts similarly, we get a dumbass joke about reigen trying to pick up women at the beach (note: i think this is the singular time we get an indication reigen is even into women) but then the next two panels take on a more melancholic tone again. we get a small panel of mob and ritsu playing on the beach and a much, much larger panel of teru sitting on the beach, watching them. the dialogue bubble forces us to pay attention to the fact that he is silent.

the ending of this omake is where we bring it home. generally the last panel centers the punchline of the page, or of the whole omake, but the final panel of this isn't really what was being built to in this case.

we start our second page on teru. his expression is obscured, reigens speech bubble is shoved to the side so we can see that teru's hat is being held in his hands.

when we see his face in full view he looks... confused. he looks like he doesn't know how to react to someone going through all this trouble for him. teru is a character who, up to this moment, we have seen as extremely independent. he always rushes into things alone, he always has to be the hero, he always has to be the one to save the day. hell, this omake is immediately followed by the confession arc. where... you know.

so what are we supposed to get out of this omake?

teru's been doing everything on his own up to this point

but he doesn't have to anymore

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #teruki hanazawa #pic #edit: even though the hair makes this difficult to date timeline wise #i like to picture this as post confession arc #i feel like it makes the most sense

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superlarva · 1 year ago

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Fives, Tup, and Dogma in a fort!

Soooo sorry about last week, I've been ridiculously busy, but we're back to my usual weekly Sunday updates of Raising Dominoes for the foreseeable future!

Anyways, here is Chapter 8 - Furniture and Forts. It was mostly just an excuse to draw the boys in a blanket fort :)

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 07 Next chapter: 09

Summary: Tup and Dogma help Fives set up his new room before a power outage frightens them.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks, power outages

Chapter 8 - Furniture and Forts

Fives had not been able to fall back asleep after his nightmare, so after Cody left they spent the rest of the morning playing with the toys that Rex had bought the day before. At first Fives seemed to have trouble with the concept of playing. He would just sit in front of the toys staring at them blankly until Rex told him to do something specific with them, at which point he would comply, but after a while he seemed to get the gist of it. He began to make up little scenarios with the action figures and would have them battle each other.

It did not sit well with Rex that fighting seemed to be the only thing his son knew well enough to recreate in play, but Fives did seem to be having fun, so he tried not to intervene. Well, he might have been trying to coax Fives into helping him build a racetrack out of Legos for the matchbox cars, but the boy was too busy bashing the small plastic soldiers together and making blaster noises to notice.

By early afternoon Fives seemed to be running out of energy. The workers also arrived to deliver the boys’ furniture, so Rex turned the TV on to a random cartoon channel and let Fives curl up on the couch and watch it while he helped the guys set up the room.

When they were done the workers left and Rex found Fives still watching the show. He had hoped the boy would have fallen asleep, but he supposed it had probably been a little loud for that.

“Hey, buddy,” Rex sank down on the couch next to Fives.

Fives quickly turned his attention to Rex, television forgotten, “Are they done? Can I see?”

Rex chuckled, “Yep.”

Fives grinned and jumped up. He ran to his new room and stopped in the doorway. Rex joined him.

The furniture was all from the same set, so every piece had the same dark stained wood. It was a little weird to see the room with just furniture and no decorations, but Fives did not seem to mind. The kid was practically trembling with excitement.

Each side of the room had a bed with a bare mattress sitting in the far corner, and a nightstand, desk, dresser, and bookshelf up against the wall. Fives looked up at Rex, “This is really all just for me and Echo?”

“This is your room, yeah.”

“Wow.”

Rex grinned and pushed Fives lightly into the room, “Go on. Pick which side you want.”

Fives looked around the room and took a tentative step forward before looking back to Rex uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” Rex tried to reassure, “Just pick which bed you want to sleep in.”

Fives looked like he was making the hardest decision of his life before stepping over to the bed on the left and turning back to Rex, “This one?”

“Perfect.”

Fives beamed, “Can we-”

He was cut off by the sound of muffled voices:

“No, you have to knock louder, Tup. He’s not gonna hear that.”

The second voice was too soft to hear through the walls, but a loud knock rang through the apartment.

Fives looked up at Rex, his brows drawn together, and a tight frown tugged down the corners of his lips.

“It’s alright, those are my friends,” Rex said, flicking on the light in Fives’s room and motioning for the boy to follow him as he made his way down the hallway towards the door, turning on all the lights as he went. “You remember Hardcase?”

“Y-yeah,” Fives answered.

“These are his little cousins Dogma and Tup. They’re just a bit older than you.”

Fives nodded, but hesitated as they reached the entryway, “Why’d you turn on all the lights?”

“Oh, uh, they don’t like the dark,” Rex said softly, opening the door before Fives could ask why not.

They were met with a scowling preteen with close cropped hair and a boy with longer wavy hair that could have been the other’s twin if he was not a few years younger standing in front of a large box.

It took Rex a second to register, but when he did he grinned, “Thanks. This is your guys’ old stuff?”

The boys nodded.

Rex pulled the container into his apartment, “Awesome. This is great.”

Fives peered out from behind Rex and gave the older boys a small wave. Tup offered a shy smile and inched a bit closer to Dogma, who wrapped his arm around his brother and attempted a smile of his own, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

Dogma craned his neck to see into the apartment, “What were all those people doing?”

“Setting up Fives and Echo’s new room,” Rex said, ruffling Fives’s hair.

Tup’s eyebrows raised in interest. Rex new the look well and smiled at the boy, “If it’s okay with Fives, you guys can check it out. It’s not finished or anything though.”

Tup and Dogma exchanged a glance before looking to Fives.

“It’s okay,” Fives said, shifting a little behind Rex even as the words left his mouth.

Tup smiled and followed Dogma as he made his way into the apartment.

Dogma puffed out his chest and turned to address Fives, “My name is Dogma, I’m twelve years old and 3 months. This is my brother Tup. He’s ten.”

Fives’s large brown eyes darted between the boys, “I’m Fives.”

Dogma and Tup stayed to help unpack and decorate the bedroom. Dogma was helping Rex make the beds and the younger boys were putting Tup’s hand-me-downs in the dresser. Fives pulled out a shirt and passed it to Tup, “Echo.”

Tup hesitated, “Are you sure? You’re giving way more clothes to Echo than to yourself.” Fives shrugged, “That shirt is red. Echo likes red.”

Rex looked over to the dresser and saw that Echo’s was full and Fives’s practically empty, “Tup’s right, Fives. You need clothes to wear too. Why don’t you start putting more things in your dresser.”

Fives’s eyebrows pushed together, and he looked down into the box of clothes, “But- but what if Echo wants them?”

Rex shrugged, “When Echo gets home you guys can trade if you want, but for now you need to give yourself more clothes.”

Fives still looked a little confused and when Tup moved to place the red shirt in his dresser rather than Echo’s, he shook his head.

Tup froze, looking from Fives to the dresser to Rex, who was busy tucking in sheets. Dogma had been listening to the exchange while making Fives’s bed and looked up at the silence. He caught on quick and scowled at Fives, “Rex said-”

“But Echo would really like that shirt!” Fives interrupted, voice hitting a whiney pitch.

Dogma’s scowl deepened and Tup looked like he would rather be anywhere than caught in this crossfire.

Rex looked over and was about to say something, but Fives beat him to it, “I-I’ll take the rest of them, just- just Echo would really like that one.”

“But-” Dogma started, confusion replacing his scowl.

“It’s fine,” Rex interjected, he had heard the panic in Fives’s voice, and he did not want to make it any worse.

Dogma opened his mouth to say something.

“It’s fine, Dogma,” Rex repeated with a bit more force.

Dogma mumbled out a quiet apology and turned back to Fives’s bed, his ears turning red.

“Tup, why don’t you put that one in Echo’s drawer,” Rex nodded to the red tee still clutched in Tup’s hand. The boy obliged and Rex continued, “But the rest go to Fives, okay?”

Fives nodded seriously.

With four sets of helping hands, they were able to finish setting up the room fairly quickly. After learning that Jesse was out taking Hardcase to his drum lesson and Kix had picked up an extra shift at the hospital (which Rex could not help but feel responsible for), Rex insisted on Dogma and Tup staying for dinner. The boys did not complain.

While they were eating Dogma suddenly pointed out the window, “Hey, it’s snowing!”

“Really?” Tup jumped up and ran to the window.

Fives joined Tup, “Whoa, it’s so fluffy.”

Dogma’s eyes darted between his plate and the window, clearly debating something. Rex felt an odd pang in his chest at how hard this decision seemed to be for the kid. He smiled gently, “You can go take a closer look.”

Dogma’s eyes snapped to his, “But we’re eating?”

“The food will still be here after you take a look.”

“Come on, Dogma!” Tup exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement.

Dogma slowly and a little rigidly got up from the table and made his way over to his brother, glancing back uncertainly at Rex every few feet.

Rex nodded encouragingly. He had known Dogma and Tup ever since Kix had taken them in six years ago. The boys had been scared and nervous and so afraid of the dark that they refused to sleep until they all but collapsed. As the years went on, they acclimated to their new environment as well as one could expect, but Tup was still a shy bundle of worry and Dogma was still overly compliant to what he believed the “rules” were. And they were both still scared of the dark.

“It’s windy,” Fives noted.

“Really windy,” Dogma breathed, sounding lost in thought.

Tup turned from the window to look at Rex, his face scrunched up with worry, “Do you think the power’s gonna go out?”

Rex shook his head, “Probably not.”

Tup turned back to the window and Rex grimaced; he could hear the wind howling outside.

The boys had taken to playing in the twins’ room after dinner while Rex cleaned up. From what he could hear in the kitchen, it sounded like Dogma was teaching Fives some sort of card game. Rex smiled; he was glad they were getting along.

As soon as he finished scrubbing the last dish, the lights flickered in the apartment. Rex dropped the plate back into the sink and ran to the bedroom.

Dogma sat cross legged on the floor in front of a game of palace, back stiff as a board, eyes wide and focused on a space just in front of Rex. Tup had thrown himself over his older brother and was clinging to him, eyes just as wide and filled with terror.

Fives’s back was to Rex, and he turned, a frown tugging down the corners of his lips, “What-”

Just then the lights went out and they were plunged into darkness.

Rex moved quickly, scooping up Tup and pulling him into his lap, just as he had seen Kix do a million times before. The boy was already hyperventilating, his small chest rising and falling quickly with each shallow, ragged breath. Rex pulled his hand through Tup’s wavy hair, and exaggerated his breathing in the hopes that Tup would feel it and it would help him regulate his own.

“You’re safe, Tup. It’s me, Rex. You’re in my apartment.”

Tup clung to Rex a little tighter, but his breathing remained quick and shallow.

Rex turned to Fives, whose outline he could see in the dim light from the window, “Fives, there’s a flashlight on my nightstand in my room. Do you think you could get it for me?”

Fives made an affirmative noise and scurried into the darkness.

“How are you doing, Dogma?” Rex asked, turning his attention to the older boy for a moment.

Dogma did not respond, so Rex pulled him in close to his side, “I got you, you’re safe.” Dogma rested his head against Rex’s shoulder and trembled, speaking softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”

Rex felt hot tears seeping into his shirt and could not help but feel like he was in way over his head. He had no idea what Dogma was apologizing for, but he supposed that did not matter.

“I know,” Rex said gently, even though did not, “It’s alright.”

Fives reappeared with the flashlight in hand and passed it to Rex. Rex switched it on immediately and it flickered to life, bathing the room in a golden light. He felt Dogma relax a bit beside him and gave the sniffling boy a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to Tup.

Tup was still in the throws of a panic attack and clung to Rex with a force and determination he did not know the ten-year-old had. Rex gently pried one of Tup’s hand off him and pressed the flashlight into it, “Here, have the light.”

Tup clutched the flashlight and slumped against Rex, his breaths erratic as he struggled to calm down.

“Breath with me, Tup. In,” Rex took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly, “Out.”

Rex kept inhaling and exhaling with Tup and eventually got the boy to slow his breathing. All the fight left Tup’s body and he slumped weakly against Rex.

“You want me to call Kix?” Rex asked gently.

Tup shook his head.

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“No. I’m- I’m okay now,” Tup said shakily.

Rex frowned, Tup was far from okay, “You’ll stay here until Kix or Jesse get home.”

Tup nodded against him.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” Fives pipped up from the doorway of his bedroom where he had watched the scene unfold.

“Yes, little soldier?” Rex said the joking nickname coming automatically.

“Can we build a fort?”

“Like a blanket fort?” Rex asked, a little surprised Fives even knew what that was.

Fives nodded, “When we were scared like this, we would hide in a fort.”

“Yeah,” Rex said slowly, wondering how many times the twins had been “scared like this.”

Fives grinned and turned to Dogma, “Dogma, there are extra blankets in the closet in the hallway. We need three.”

The preteen sniffled and wiped his face, but got up and swiftly made his way out of the room, following the orders like his life depended on it.

Once Dogma had his mission, Fives sat down next to Tup—who was curled up in Rex’s lap and did not seem like he planned on leaving anytime soon—and explained his architectural vision for the fort. The plan distracted Tup from the power outage and Rex had to admit that there was no way he could have handled the situation better than his seven-year-old son currently was.

Dogma returned from the dimly lit hallway quickly and handed the blankets over to Fives.

The construction of the fort was left mostly to Fives and Dogma, but Tup did seem to be taking an interest in it. Rex nudged the boy in his lap as the other two finished up the fort and began crawling around in it, “Want to play with Dogma and Fives?”

Tup hesitated, “Can I keep the flashlight?”

“Of course,” Rex nodded, giving the kid a gentle push towards the others.

Tup crawled over to join his brother and Fives, who were now talking enthusiastically about “defense systems” they could put in place to fortify their creation.

Rex could have sworn he even saw Dogma smiling.

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123 @the-bad-batch-baroness @sarcastic-nebula @ihaventpickedausername @sexysmeagolshitposting @emma-1409

#There are some chapters that actually have Echo in them coming up #Sorry about the wait #the clone wars #clone trooper fives #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #captain rex #clone wars #tcw #clone trooper tup #clone trooper dogma #domino twins #baby dominos #superlarva

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

this was a lil while ago but it's been on my mind and it was rejected by actual Reddit for containing references to violence lol so it's c&p from back when this happened w a minor update but AITA for saying I'd curbstomp someone for saying the N word??

I, (27NB) attended a murder mystery birthday party back in May for a friend Annie (25F) with our mutual friends (24-28 various genders) (There was 7 of us total). We all had a pretty good time despite a lack of planning for the party and general weird vibes (Annie had been upset all day at something their partner, Sean had done).

Towards the end of the night, myself and a friend we're discussing anagrams, I believe specifically for the word "ginger", I was very drunk and did not hear the letters being spelt properly so I guessed the word was "Rigger". The other party goers conversations were coming to a natural end so they joined in mine and my friend's convo. Upon hearing me say "rigger" and pulling a face when I realised what exacty the bad word was my friend was referencing was, Sean then said "Oh it's (n word)!". Another friend, Betty did not hear what they said and asked them to repeat in, which they did loudly. The whole party stopped for a moment. At this point I think I fucked up because I was immediately shocked and said "You can't say that!" and then they said "what, (n word)?" and repeated it another time. I made a comment saying I believed the only person in the friend group to be racist was Dan. I've since privately apologised to Dan for this comment as I don't think Dan is racist at all, and Dan has accepted that apology.

Pretty much immediately after that everyone started making plans to leave, within five minutes cabs were called. Everyone left the room leaving me and Sean alone. I think this is also where I fucked up, I approached them and said they cannot say that word, it's not theirs to say etc, in which they just kept repeating "I'll use that word if I want to". (edit from months later: apparently Betty's boyfriend was in the room and didnt like do anything and just watched this play out). At this point I was pretty much blackout drunk and threatened to curb stomp them if they carried on. Betty came in and diffused the situation and took me home. Betty says myself and Sean were stood very close to each other but I was visibly drunk and stumbling and clearly was in no shape to carry through with the threat (Sean is also significantly larger than me in height and weight so I don't think even sober I would be able to land a punch, not that I want to).

Betty filled me in on a lot of these details the day after as I didn't remember a lot but apparently afterwards I tried to be extremely friendly to Sean and sort out plans for us to hangout this week, something I obviously won't be following through on. (edit: we haven't spoken to each other at all since this)

I messaged Annie on the sunday to wish her a happy birthday(edit: the party took place on the Friday iirc) and she also told me what happened (she was not present for any of this as she went to bed early at the party, feeling sick) undoubtedly hearing only Sean's side of the story. Knowing it's her birthday and I didn't want to bother her with drama I just said maybe their partner shouldn't of said what they said, and she stated after having a mild go for me for threatening to curb stomp her partner that she can't weigh in. So I stopped speaking about it to her and just forwarded her some videos I took from that night (silly videos, one of her blowing out her birthday candles, etc) and she replied saying thanks.

I've messaged Sean saying we need to talk about what happened and basically said while I'm sorry for it happening in their house during Annie's birthday party, I'm not sorry for calling out thag disgusting behaviour. Betty and another friend, Jack have both said I was well within my right to kick off like that, and that I was clearly not going to follow through with any threats, and Sean was wrong to not only say the words multiple times but then to double down when called out both in front of everyone and privately. But i have doubts since it was a birthday party and perhaps saying I'd curb stomp them is a bit much. I don't recall myself being particularly angry while shouting at them but they've said they definitely felt threatened by me and put off on talking to me.

I also find it odd they feel so threatened by me/find this behaviour of mine odd as I have reacted a similar way (less aggressive) when Annie was also racist in front of me, Betty and Sean. I've also spent the last two weeks meeting with Sean, bankrolling and planning this birthday party with absolutely no issue (i don't think a birthday person should plan/pay for their own party and Sean is unemployed) and we've had fun! We joked around a lot and I feel like I'm pretty open about being too weak to throw a punch but always ready to fight (like a chihuahua). I even came over early to help set up for the party, because I liked spending time with them. So for them to feel threatened by me is such an odd feeling. I also feel uncomfortable in the fact that Annie and Sean feel comfortable saying slurs in front of me. The whole friend group feels weird about this situation, no one really knows what to say.

(edit: ok this is where the original post ended but there's still some drama) so the day after I called Sean(with consent, to talk) but Anne picked up and said she would speak on Sean's behalf and I was on speakerphone. He did not apologise (neither did Anne) and Anne defended his behaviour pretty heavily. her/both of their's resolution was for Sean to just not say the N word around me. I obviously said that's still incredibly fucking racist and I don't want to be friends with racists? I cut them off after the phone call and said I'd like the money back I spent on the party from Sean. Anne ended up paying it back two months later when I politely brought it up at another friend's birthday.

Betty and her boyfriend still hang out with Sean and Anne and seem to be pretty good friends with them. Betty mentions Anne to me fairly often and all I say is why are you friends with a racist and then she goes quiet. Everyone still maintains I'm the asshole that ruined the friend group and I still feel pretty insecure about what happened. I don't think I should've threatened violence but they all say "chat shit get hit". so idk. AITA? sorry for how long this is lmao

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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sol-consort · 3 months ago

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Regarding the human kink thing when it comes to turians, some people actually do be nesting, omega-verse style. Imagine being a human assigned to a turian ship, and you just over here in your bunk, innocently arranging the pillows and stuffies, while these guys are just standing there, slack-jawed and harmonizing their subvocals lol

[updated post]

A/B/O is not for me, but I dig the concept of aliens being intrigued by plushies. They are weird when you think about it.

The weird part isn't the plushies–it makes sense for warm-blooded mammals who value skinship to enjoy cuddling soft things, hugs are fundamental for your health—No, The weird part is how the most popular plushies aren't human shaped.

You could argue dolls, but dolls aren't used as plushies. They're more hard and sturdy, something that can withstand being played with. they have joints and brushable hair. Dolls are puppets to tell a story with, a psychological form of play through creativity.

I want you for a moment to imagine an advanced civilisation of bears with me.

With metropolises and bustling economy, they haven't mastered space travel yet but they've been eyeing the planet closest to them, bringing back rocks from the moon, etc.

In one apartment complex, there lives a bear family. The furniture is more accommodating to their larger build, clothes are more of an accessory to them considering their luxurious fur coats keeping them warm.

It's nighttime, tomorrow's a Sunday and mom bear has to leave to work early, she's currently washing the dishes leftover from the wonderful dinner the family just had. Her wife, however, is putting their son to bed. it's his second week in elementary bear school! he's unhappy with his seating arrangement in class however, the teacher placed him too far from his best friend.

His mother promises to have a chat with the teacher about it when she drops him off tomorrow, the son bear is very delighted and roars happily. A big yawn escapes him as his eyelids get heavy.

In his arms, there lies a cotton friend. His most beloved treasure, the most precious inanimate object to his heart. His plushie!

He adores it. It makes him so happy. It helped make him feel safe when he first started sleeping alone after his moms got him his own bed.

Now, I need you to tell me what does the plushie look like?

For me, these are the options that instinctively came to my mind when attempting to imagine what sentient bear cubs living in a 21st century would gravitate towards in a plushie.

A) a teddybear, more fluffy, abstract, and cartoonish looking

B) a plushie in the shape of a honeyjar

C) a plushie in the shape of a fish–more specifically, salmon or trout

D) fuck idk man leave me alone

When compressed down to their core, in the most simplfied form, the choices are:

A) Identity

B) Food

C) Food

D) How did you get into my house?

With that long analogy out of the way, when you compare that limited selection to the actual things humans have already turned into plushies, it just doesn't make sense.

Food, yes we have plushies of food but also of animals we do not eat. rabbits, cats, dogs, dolphins, bugs. We have plushies of predetors even, things that once hunted us down, beings that still could very well kill us if we meet face to face, tigers, sharks, bears themselves even.

Animal cartoons are much more popular amongst kids. Fables about talking animals have been a stable genre ever since humans invented writing. Animal plushies are popular amongst adults too.

Plushies of inanimate objects, of plants, of fictional characters and fantasy creatures.

I'm willing to bet that humans already made plushies of verans since the first year they came into space, that they sold out on earth immediately. Hell, I'm sure there are plushies of reapers, of protheons and even of turians and other species.

Not even abstract ideas were spared from being into marketable plushies! isn't there a series designed to raise awareness for mental illness?

The whole meme of "turns your fav into a marketable plushie" spread so much because it is true. If there is one thing humans love, is making plushies of anything not human.

And that's the weird part to aliens, the big boy of human anomalies. "Why do they want to cuddle literally everything in this universe? and how come plushies of other humans is the last thing on that list"

You try to explain it to a salarian once but they just look at you in confusion. What do you mean you sleeping with plushes resembling your species is "weird"?? Don't you humans like hugging each other so much? Yet cuddling the soft imitation of a reaper each night isn't weird to you????

That's not even mentioning how the bear society analogy is flawed because we are biased by nature. We projected the bear society onto our human agriculture and based it upon our own popculture.

When in reality they would hold very different values, a different emotional range. They'd be as diverse as the other alien species in mass effect, sharing more resemblance to them than to humans.

We see someone sad, and we have this need to touch them, pat their shoulder, rub their back, hold their hands, and give a hug. Bears let their children walk on their own while we carry our young more, much like aquatic birds in more ways than we'd think.

A/B/O nesting isn't my cup of tea, but with turians, it's easier to digest. Yeah, they are birds. It would be literal nesting. That's kinda cute.

We like caves, it's also cute. Would turians prefer the top bunkbed? Anyway.

Birds usually throw clutter away from their nests, anything that's not a straw or building material is disposed off to make space for their eggs.

While we like the opposite, clutter fucking rocks! at least for humans.

We have a mattress, then a mattress cover, then a sheet.

Then we have pillows, stuffing, then pillow covers, decorative pillows.

After it, multiple blankets! a soft one, a heavy one, an airy one. Sometimes, blankets come with blanket covers.

Finally, the plushies arrive. Multiple of course, some for decorations, others well worn with cuddles. Sometimes a gaint big one to fully wrap all of our limbs around.

Sometimes our beds have crumbs from food we eat in it, othertimes it has a stray sock we took off while in bed and forgot.

Most of the time it has our phone in it, a pet joins us there, book we're reading, laundry we were supposed to fold but forgot, a bag, or several outfits as we get ready to go out.

That's a cave, much like bears leave the skeletal remains of their prey, we have crumbs from the cookie we suddenly craved at 3am.

Nests are neat and clutter-free, at least the bird ones, always getting cleaned from waste. Eggshells are thrown out as they hatch, baby birds waste are immediately disposed of.

Lizard nests aren't that different.

Because the equivalent to a nest foundation isn't the blankets, plushies, or pillows. it's the house foundation itself!

The concrete walls and the sturdy floorboards. The whole bedroom is already a well-built nest. The bed is just an extra cushion. The fluffy material and loose feathers birds leave at the very top, so the twigs don't scratch the fragile eggs.

So, in conclusion. Turians and Salarians would get VERY overwhelmed in a human bedroom, let alone a human bed with plushies, stuffies, and blankets.

They're like, "Are you expecting a baby???" When they notice what their brain consider is extra protective fluffing for eggs.

Turians even more because of their lack of skin nerves, hard plating, and all. Their outershell makes it hard to appreciate soft things, let alone hugging them, when they can barely feel it.

Salarains? They're softer, more squishy, and they might enjoy the way it feels against their skin. Most reptiles do, and they're the closest thing for reference.

They're warm-blooded, but they do originate from a fully tropical planet + they're amphibians and might have used to be semi-aquatic? Meaning that while they still produce their own bodyheat, it wouldn't be that much to begin with. Space is definitely much colder to them than to a human.

That's why hugging a human is so nice to them! They can leech off of your body heat as their very own sun–or at least a substitute for a heatlamp.

But plushies and blankets are a different story. With blankets, they might make them cold or freeze since they blocked whatever light or heatlamp the salarians must need for sleep when they're not wearing their temperature adjustment suits.

And if you sleep next to them under the blanket, your trapped body heat will cause the temperature to rise above what's comfortable for them and risk overheating them. Same with the fluffy sheets, pillows or plushies.

there's the risk of overheating them with your body as the blanket traps in the heat. it will happen slowly, but that just makes it more dangerous. A slow simmer of rising body temperature as they realise what a death trap a human bed actually is.

Plus, salarians only need one hour of sleep per cycle, it seems very excessive to them that you'd build a whole room and make the biggest piece of furniture in it solely for the purpose of sleep. All of those plushies just to hug to sleep?

Drell, who breathe through their skin, would view blankets as a total nightmare. Their clothes already need a lot of adjustment to accommodate their conditions, only certain material is airy enough to allow them to get a lungfull, and you want to suffocate them with cotton or polyester?

They know you only breathe through your nose, but it still...makes them feel uneasy. Seeing you covered completely in stuffies and thick blankets, only your head poking out. Much like what it would feel for us to see someone go to sleep underwater with a flimsy mask connected to an oxygen tank. Now, this is truly a death trap–the salarians were right.

As long as you forgo the blanket and...allow them to fully strip down, they will give this whole human bed thing a try. Silk or satin sheets and pillow covers feel the best against their skin, smooth surfaces that seamlessly glide, air particles passing through it with little trouble.

Anything fluffy, feathery, or with fur will irritate their skin. It's like something brushing against your nose. They sacrifice a lot of comfort when it comes to indulging the human need to cuddle, but most drell rarely complain as they accommodate to your need, even if it meant you'd be slightly cutting off their air circulation.

Maybe their society is exceptionally polite? Maybe devotion and sacrifice for the ones you love are just ingrained in their biology? It would explain their endless royalty to the hanar despite how staying on that planet is literally killing them.

Oh yeah, owning a humidifier in your room will cause them a lot of pain and discomfort. Turn it off, or if you really want to woo a drell, get a dehumidifier.

Krogans would fucking love our beds tho. Might make fun of it at first, but they secretly also want a soft mattress and plushies to cuddle with.

Get close enough with a Krogan, and they'll start crashing in your room and taking naps on your own bed whenever the chance presents itself.

Don't the asari sleep in pods? I'm thinking of that sex scene in ME, she fucks you in a pod. That's something. At least...Liara gets used to human beds?

Anway! having established all of that definitely vital and necessary world building, I can finally talk smut about the turians! the original context of this request!

One look at a human's bed and their minds are definitely going south. First of all, human, you're in desperate need of a mate because your nest is a mess! Why do you have so many different fabrics? Aren't you worried you'll suffocate yourself with a plushie or too while sleeping?

Second of all...they didn't know humans were this soft. You mean, most humans sleep like this? In very comfortable beds? Even like...the army tough ones? Oh, that's why they get so excited for shore leave? so they can return to their actual comfortable nests–sorry yes "beds" and have some decent sleep?

huh.

And none of you are expecting children, correct? This is just how the average adult human goes to sleep?

Turians don't have the heart to tell you that they associate soft beds–ones like yours—to the human equivalent of a heart-shaped bed with rose petals scattered around, candles illuminating the room and a very deliberate lack of condoms.

They try not to...think about it whenever they come into the room. A bluish hue adorning their cheeks, trying to avoid eye-contact as they explain that uh...fuck, they accidentally glanced towards your bed and forgot what they came here to say.

I talked before how jarring it's to them that humans easily allow others on their bed, be it human or not. You just casually invite your friends to sit on it? The same sheets you sleep on each night? the one so heavy with your delicious scent they can practically smell it the second they stepped foot into this room?

And now you're telling them to take a seat, even handing them one of your plushies to keep in their lap. What's a friendly gesture and a show of trust is being very very badly misinterpreted by their brain chemistry, their biology going haywire at what they consider the declaration of "Get me pregnant" Whether you're actually capable of it or not.

Sidenote, the angara might be the only ones to share our bed preferences, not only that but show enthusiasm at the mention of plushies.

The only difference is that their society values plushies that resemble people more, angara like them. The dolls and plushie lineup are very intertwined.

Cuddling very intimately with someone isn't sexualised either, nor presented under a romantic light necessarily. Their society prides itself on love and affection; they're direct with expressing their emotions.

A single angara family can have many mothers and fathers, tens of sisters and brothers. Cuddling and sharing a bed is very normalised even far into adulthood.

They might be the ones giving humans the wrong idea by immediately inviting them back to cuddle on their bed after only the second meeting. Just because they decided they like you :) It's the equivalent of going out for coffee.

Protheoans, meanwhile, fall on the opposite spectrum. Javik doesn't have a bed, does he? He never asks for one either. They're a society of warriors, they value strength and abhor tenderness. Brutal honesty is their forte.

But...they also read each other's emotions through touch.

While beds are a foreign concept, plushies are not. Javik can sense the history of a room just by directly touching its floorboards. Plushies and other sentimental objects must be valued very greatly in their society, doesn't he hold onto the disk of memories from his time back before being frozen?

He understands why his own species came to value plushies, but why the hell does yours do it? You lack his abilities, all humans do.

You try to explain it to him, but it just sounds like you're describing vague and badly done emotion reading with extra steps.

He concludes that humans must hold traces of these abilities. It just translates into safety and the need to cuddle others. Also, it is clearly inferior to the protheon's advanced ability, so yeah.

Javik dislikes your bed but likes your plushies and actually welcomes cuddling. He remains stoic throughout it but you can feel him poking through your memories.

Same with your plushies, he asks that he may keep one as a relic. A piece of your soul, your history is encased in it like an artifact in amber.

Touching it almost feels exactly like travelling in time to meet your old self, getting to part the curtians of space itself and get a front row view on the person you used to be.

Plushies immortalise you to protheans, who would've thought.

I had so much fun with this an analysis it <333 I know it isn't exactly what you had in mind anon, I'm sorry, A/B/O is listed as a "no" in my requesting list. But the concept was so good I had to approach it in a different direction.

I hope you still enjoyed it!

#☆humans #☆human kink #☆Javik #☆turians #☆Krogans #☆salarians #☆character study #☆drell #☆protheans

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2qties · 3 months ago

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❝𝘼 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙇𝙔 𝙀𝙈𝘽𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙀❞

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐

In which water pillar, Tomioka Giyū, faces the death of his lover and wishes to cling onto them physically in his hardest moments yet cannot.

🪐 : here's my first attempt at angst as someone who only mainly writes fluff !!!!! tell me how i do 😋🗣️‼️day 3 of no wifi , gotta keep y'all updated!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️issa Sunday and da library closes at 6 pm 2day and im pulling up at like 3 pm cs it opens and 10 and yk i can't pull up looking like a clueless nobody ya know ya know 😋 i ain't sleep all of last night idk why and my bby bro aint sleep either so all im hearing is his loud ahh babbling 👻 but anyway daddy TJ gotta keep pumpin cs i can't have yall thinking i died fr 🐺

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐

how long has it been since you passed?

he hasn't forgotten. six weeks ago. in the cold. when the universe decided to take you away from him. the one time he had something of his own, something that he felt would last.. it was selfishly taken from him.

he didn't think the wound was that bad, he thought you'd make it. but he was so wrong. before he even reached the butterfly estate, you were limp, cold and dead in his shaking arms.

how foolish he was to get so attached to someone in a time like this. someone who wasn't of his caliber, someone who hadn't gone up against what he was fighting each night… someone weak.

how foolish he was to fall in love.

was it how you said his name? was it how you welcomed him when no one else would? what was it that was so appealing? maybe it was your smile, beaming solely at him in a way that could never be replicated. maybe it was your hands, holding him as if he was fragile to the touch.

maybe it was your eyes, looking at him as if there was something worth looking at.

and now that it was all gone, what would happen now? in life, you lose some and you win some. but what would he do? he didn't want to lose you.

what could replace you after you showed him what it meant to be loved? you showed him more, how could he settle for less? he'd ask himself.

yet what he truly meant was how could he settle for anything that wasn't you?

he doesn't want to settle for anything that wasn't you.

each end of the week, he'd visit your grave. this evening, it was cold and raining. the wisteria incense around your grave had died down due to the pouring rain. he'd figure out some way to keep it from dying, no matter the disaster.

he didn't want the same creatures who had killed you to step anywhere near you. if he couldn't protect you when you were alive, he'd protect you in death.

he gently placed flowers onto your bed of eternal slumber, watching the rain pitter and patter over them.

“maybe, just maybe, the nature will reclaim you and you'll sleep under the loveliest garden.” he whispered, imagining the beautiful greenery that could grow around you.

it wouldn't make this place half bad. maybe bring back some memories of you.

“i miss you. i really do.” he muttered, praying you'd hear him and come comfort him in some way, “it's not the same without you. i miss all of you. i miss how you'd look at me.. how you smiled at me.. how you said my name. heck, the weird looks you'd give me… i miss your hugs and how you'd hold me too.”

it didn't replace the hurt but it elevated some sorrow off his shoulders.

“you know, i had plans for our future. i wanted us to get married. wanted us to kids. wanted a peaceful life after the war with you. i just wanted to be able to wake up and have you and our kids being the first faces i see. my sister, my friend and now my love. God, please make it worth it in the end. please.

i just need a hug..”

he whispered, his hand tracing your gravestone before he slumped back where he was sitting, eyeing your name and death date simultaneously.

he wanted to hug himself but would it feel the same?

it wouldn't.

“what will i settle for, i ask myself countless of nights, if not your hugs, who elses?”

yet, when he thought of hugs, it felt like you were still there. so close that he could grab you.

soft arms from behind, wrapping around him and nuzzling your face in his neck. he felt his spirit slightly lifted during this melancholic moment, feeling your arms around him once more.

it felt like a mother or wife’s loving embrace, something he hadn't felt in a long while.

the wind felt warmer and it felt as if the rain stopped.

settle for the hugs of my spirit.

he jumped. in a situation like this, he would grab his katana and scope the surroundings in search of the uninvited stranger. yet this stranger had the aura of his love, their symphonic voice. how could he ever lift a blade at a voice like theirs?

giyū didn't notice it, yet he was crying. a tear running down his eye as he sniffled.

his tense body relaxed at the sound of the voice that had swept pass and the loving embrace of his lover’s spirit who was seated beside him.

“i’ll settle for this.”

#demon slayer #kny x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #knyxreader #tomioka giyū #kny tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #demon slayer tomioka #tjsworks🪐

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mar3ggiata · 8 months ago

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professional help, c3. preview

simon riley x original character.

abstract: Simon here, I saw Jude again, she's still going on about her theories, whatever. it's not even funny anymore and she has some weird secret I want to find out… still, she's a fucking menace to society. idk what's wrong with her probably got dropped on her head on purpose as a kid. don't blame the parents.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: The Fruits, Paris Paloma.

In the end, she did hear back from Price. An email. 'Scherzi!' She shouted out loud in her apartment. She sat down on the couch and Jinx hopped on with her, sniffing her laptop. An email from the captain, an invitation to a briefing, to discuss the situation. Tomorrow after your last session at 5pm. 'No vabbe, me fa parià…' she mumbled and wrote back that she would be there.

'So, I wanted to update you on your patient. We spoke with him and three other soldiers about joining us to the next mission in Al-Jareena next week but he refused. Well…' he stopped, rubbing his beard in clear distress. 'He got up and came up to me saying his injury is not fully healed and he will not be able to get deployed. So I told him we needed him and he started to get nervous and left the room in a hurry.' She listened without intervening. 'I know you have an appointment with him one day before we leave. I was wondering if you could let me know if you find out something about this, he's required to leave with us, otherwise we'll have to report him. His doctors cleared him.' He showed her a piece of paper, sliding it across the table.

'Too risky.' It was Simon that spoke. He was British, his voice was deep. He had been debating on intervening in the meeting from the moment Price asked him to be present. He asked him cause he trusted him, and valued his opinion. Jude could have been informed and educated with her little theories and stories, but she didn't know how things worked in the army. This wasn't Cluedo. She had the same attitude when she walked in the room, maybe a bit less stiff. He took his time exploring her. Her pretty green eyes, her nose, her neck. She wore a blouse this time, with grey trousers. She still had those shiny high boots. She had her hair up, a blonde ponytail. He looked at her jaw. She had a mole on her cheek. He shook her hand, he could smell her deodorant. Her skin was warm, soft. He liked talking to her. Her voice still sounded weird, he couldn't pick up a particular accent. He understood she would't let it go.

'I think you're waisting an opportunity.'

'I think you're thinking too much about it.'

I think I want to brake your neck. She was mad now, he could see her, he could feel it. They weren't listening. She stood up and thanked the two for inviting her to the meeting, she assured them she would keep them updated. Her smile was fake, she still wanted to be polite even thought she thought they were both fucking stupid. Ghost didn't feel guilty for going so hard on her, he looked at her leave while she was trying to hide her anger. He said what he really thought, that was what he had been trained to do. 'What's her deal?' he asked the captain on his way out. 'Jude?' the man looked up, then shook his head.

notes: translation: 'Scherzi!', you're joking! 'No vabbe, me fa parià' Naples dialect for 'you're making me laugh'.

notes: Saturday or Sunday for full chapter, when do you want it?? replies and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

love, mare.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

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thatfreshi · 1 year ago

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Radio Silent (Uni AU P. 10)

tw - mentions of abuse, themes of anxiety, general insecurity

The night fizzles out the way you expect it to, disappearing without a word to your friends in the diner, letting your new, yet reluctant friend, drive you home. You'd simply deal with Shadowheart when she got back to the dorm.

Just as Astarion said, he's gone the next morning, but the two of you text quite often. He finds it easier to talk to you through pixels on a screen, where he can pretend like you're not this very real person who knows far too much about him. On the plane ride to LA, he doesn't sleep, which isn't odd for him. Instead, he thinks about the past couple of days and how you've wriggled your way into his life, into his head. Instead of trying to put his feelings into tangible sentences, he makes a playlist while waiting the hours away and catches up on some much-needed reading.

Thursday comes around, and the group is pissed at him, as you expected them to be.

"Damnit, he's the reason we picked my lunch break to do this during anyways! You think he'd at least stick to plans like a reasonable individual."

"Gale, it's not like he chose to go on a spur-of-the-moment trip to California. It's a work thing, not in his control."

You almost sound a little angry when the words come out, knowing that he's probably going through some hell that all your friends don't know about. Gale picks up on this sentiment, and leaves the conversation at that, mumbling something about how they'll all just update him on the project details later. Indeed, you all talk in the group chat with him about plans for the upcoming assignment, which he sporadically responds to. Although, he always responds to your texts, even if he ignores the group chat. Astarion argues with himself about it in his head, trying to reason with himself, saying things like 'it's just because the group chat is overwhelming.' For how good of a liar he is, he's not good at lying to himself.

Friday morning, he goes radio silent, which you're not concerned by at first. He's busy, probably busier than you've ever been in your life. Yet, he had made time to text you since Monday night. It starts to worry you when Saturday and Sunday both pass with nothing new. You hold yourself back from asking if everything's alright, knowing if something is stressing him out it's probably better to just let him deal with it and get back to you. And yet, you don't talk to him until he's back, and you're not even the first one to hear that he's back on campus.

"Oh yeah, I saw him in the elevator earlier. Tried being nice like you said, I even waved! You should be proud. Doesn't seem like he appreciated it though."

Shadow rolls her eyes, almost covered by her bangs that she desperately needs to trim. You're not sure exactly why, but you rush to his dorm room, knocking frantically. It's Monday night, which is surprising. You could've sworn he said he'd be back Tuesday morning, but maybe you misremembered. The door creaks open.

"Oh, hello Tav."

Astarion's eyes are weary, which you chalk up to not being able to sleep on the plane.

"Hello? You haven't texted me since Thursday, what the hell? I thought you like died or something."

"Nope, not dead, very much alive. Got wrapped up in some work affairs over the weekend, fashion people can be quite dramatic. Either way, I apologize. I'm still quite new to the 'having a genuine friend' thing."

"Well, how's your arm?"

He scoffs.

"It's... it's fine. Weird to have someone ask."

At this point, he's opened the door and let you in. You're welcomed to a sight of half un-packed luggage and a stack of leather binded books on the coffee table.

"Holy shit Astarion, did you rob a bookstore while you were in California?"

"Nope, all from the library. Missing out on a week of school when you're a senior here comes with its disadvantages. For example, I have had no time to work on my thesis essay, and I've barely even unpacked from the trip itself. Although, I did snag this."

He takes out a garment bag that has been carefully finessed to fit in his suitcase without wrinkling whatever is hidden inside. His fingers nimbly move to unzip the bag, revealing a white faux fur coat.

"Now, do I wear too much white? Absolutely, but passing up on this? I could never."

You almost feel bad, not knowing anything about clothes or what makes them cool, but to your credit, you know it's a nice coat. He slips it on, happy with his latest thievery.

"Well, what do you think? Is it stunning, or is it stunning?"

In that moment, while you're about to make some quip like 'go look for yourself, you realize he has no mirrors in the dorm, not even in the bathroom that you've only ever caught a glance of.

"I would say look for yourself, but you don't have any mirrors. That's shocking."

"Well, I had the one in the bathroom removed. Guess I'm just not particularly a fan of reflections."

"How come?"

He stares at a detail on the sleeve of the coat.

"You get tired of seeing your face after a while."

"Well, I think it looks fabulous, and so do you."

"Wish I felt just as fabulous."

He lets out a small laugh, shrugging his way out of the blinding fabric. There's something left unsaid in the air, you can feel it as he goes to hang up his new treasure.

"What really happened this weekend?"

Astarion tenses, almost dropping the hanger he so delicately placed the jacket on.

"I... I'd rather not say. I know I told you a lot the other night, but there are truly some things best left as skeletons in the closet. Maybe in time, but not today. I can't today."

"That's okay. I was just worried, that's all."

"Funny, I'm so used to people prying all the time. It's pleasant, getting to have secrets when I talk to you."

He comes back out into the living room.

"Would you like to stay for a while? You don't have to help unpack or anything, just be here."

"Sure, as long as you don't mind. And I would gladly help you unpack. Besides, you have a master thesis to get back to."

"I suppose I do. Thanks, I won't forget this."

"What, like you need to trade some favor back or something? Because that's not necessary."

"You're too nice for your own good."

The pale man puts some soft R&B on, and the two of you go ahead and start putting all his things away. Although, he doesn't let you handle any of his nice clothes. You learn that the hard way when he bats your hand away from a pair of very expensive jeans.

"They're just jeans, I promise I won't taint them!"

"Yes, they are just jeans, but they're also 800-dollar jeans, and I am not risking it."

You continue to ask him about various articles of clothing, what shoots he took them from. He remembers every single one. Although, he does skip out on some details, brushing past parts of his tales without a second thought. You don't mind though, knowing it's probably just things he isn't ready to talk about. At some point you become distracted by the stack of books on the nearby table, and start looking at all the titles. They're all related to ethics, morality, or philosophy in some way, but particularly focused on the psychology of abusers and the abused.

"I thought you weren't a philosophy person?"

Astarion's voice almost makes you jump, taking you out of reading the back of one of the books.

"Is this what you're doing your thesis on?"

"I mean I'd like to, but I'm still not sure. Feel as though the head of the department will be surprised when I present it to him."

"How come?"

"Because I've always made my projects, lifeless, I guess. I've always written and studied by the book, never touched on emotional topics. Just don't want people asking questions."

"So, what specifically are you going to look into?"

"The philosophy of abusers, how power imbalances change our moral codes, that kind of thing."

You lightly place the book back in the stack.

"I think you should do it. If anyone asks, just say you were curious about it."

"That's true, I am known to be quite curious. Now, are you going to help me with the rest of this, or have you given up?"

The night passes by too fast for his liking, as the two of you talk while he prepares for the week ahead. It's past midnight when you finally check your phone, seeing that you've received a couple of cheeky messages about your absence from Shadow.

"Is it late already?"

Astarion checks him phone as well.

"Perhaps it's time for you to go get some sleep darling. After all, not everyone is as extreme of an insomniac as I am."

"Yeah, I guess I should probably get back. Happy you're back though, and that you're okay."

Without really thinking about it, you go for a side hug, and make your way to the door.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow Tav."

And his smile is warmer than normal, knowing there's something to look forward to after a torturous night of barely any sleep. Maybe opening up to a single soul isn't so bad after all.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #freshiau

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andromedaexists · 18 days ago

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WUPDATE: Incorrect Eyes

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍 || 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎

I already tagged all the Desecrate people this week so I'll do an Incorrect Eyes update this week!

BIG NEWS!!!! INCORRECT EYES WAS PUBLISHED!!! AND YOU CAN READ IT FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!!!

Okay, now let's talk some more about that! I was updating y'all pretty regularly earlier this year as I worked on IE and then I kinda... stopped.

Well, I was able to get it to the editor I was really hoping for (thank you @whatsuptyler ily beepaw)! Tyler did an amazing job really finding all my inconsistencies and making sure the narrative worked!

I also had a big change on the art end! I originally wanted to have Mx. Morggo doing the chapter art for IE, but they fell through (literally just never responded to an email after telling me they were interested in the project but that's okay! Life is weird!). Then I kinda waffled on where to go next and ended up having WerewolfPresident on IG do it and it turned out great!! I love the illustrations and the chapter header that I got, they're everything!!

I am also waiting on some illustrations to come in from my tattoo artist, I would like to use these as like those vellum art pages that you can put into books. I don't know if I'll actually get these art pieces but that just seems to be the vibe for IE lol

I say that because I am still waiting on the cover art for IE. I am really upset about this just because I have not heard from the artist since June, when I had stated that the book is being published in July back when I first got into contact with her in December. It has been nearly a year and I don't have the art. I am really hoping to receive it still, and I won't make the paperback editions of IE available until I have the cover illustration.

That's all the updates I really have on the art end of things, but I do have one more update in general: Incorrect Eyes qualifies for the Bram Stoker Awards in the Long Fiction category this year!! If you know an HWA member or are an HWA member yourself (like I am now!!), then I would greatly appreciate your consideration of my psychological religious horror story for the awards cycle this year!

Now that that's done, let's get to the good part (the snippies!):

Be Not Afraid. My life changed when I heard those three words. It wasn’t an immediate change. No, it was a slow, crawling thing. I was raised a good Catholic kid, after all. Those three words were ones that I grew up with, ones that I am well acquainted with. Sundays were always full of stories about the messengers of God, tales as great as They were that sung their praises. But, of course, any time the Angels were mentioned, the greeting wasn’t far behind. Be Not Afraid was a melody that hung in the background of my life over the soft harmonies of the church’s organs, soothing me into complacency.

maybe one more for yous:

I can remember what the Father told me to believe in church all those years ago. Remember how he guided me in prayer after I asked about this description and why is was so scary. He told me that the chants of the Angels were something to be heard, that They could lift a soul and bring it closer to God. But when I read the words on the page I return to the question the small child I used to be asked. Why is it so scary? I can’t hear their chants, my ears are filled with Their screaming and wailing. Their shouts beg for atonement and forgiveness. Images pop unbidden into my mind: Angels as we knew them growing up, human-like and innocent. But now They have tears of viscous blood streaming down Their faces as They grovel before His throne, screaming and begging for His warmth. Seraphim and Cherubim just behind Them, blocking the pathetic Angels in, forcing Them to submit to His holy gaze. Their screams harmonize in the worst ways, ringing through my mind and spilling through my ears. The mind-numbing pain They cause is only worsened as my eyes are drawn further down the page. Woe is me for I am ruined [must be silent] because I am a man of unclean lips and live among a people of unclean lips, and because my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts. Unclean, unclean, unclean. The word repeats in my mind, tearing through the chorus of terror put forward by the Angels. I am unclean, just like he was. I live among people with unclean Eyes, just as he with lips. He—I—we are RUINED. My mind conjured the image of the next paragraph. Of the Seraphim flying towards me—Isaiah—us holding a glowing coal by means of a pair of tongs. From the altar is comes. As it lays the burning stone in my eyes, it speaks: Now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed and your sin is atoned for. Then I scream.

and then the final thing I'll share, the first chapter header:

TAGLIST

@winterandwords @crypticcodexcreations @inkspellangel @smol-feralgremlin

@joswriting @love-whatit-loves @annetillney @bebewrites

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

#Incorrect Eyes #wip update #writing #writeblr #wip excerpt #wupdate #adult fantasy #religious fantasy #andi writes #self published #kindle unlimited #religious horror #horror #horror novella #psychological horror

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grifff17 · 7 months ago

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Audiodrama Sunday 4/7/2024

Lots of stuff to listen to this week. I really need to stop starting these writeups at 11:30pm on Sunday evening.

Loved the new Dear Liisphyra this week. I thought that the sponsor for this episode was really funny. I laughed out loud and looked like to an insane person to some guy I was walking past when they said that every weapon box comes with 50 feet of hempen rope.

Season 2 finale of @backagainpodcast! Man I love the themes of this show. It's such a well written tragedy, the dramatic irony is so good. Also I desperately want to know more about the other Soldier. We know several very relevant details about him but very little else.

New @spoutlore-blog was fun. Billie is such a good character, Jessica plays the "immortal child" trope so well. This show really puts the coolest worldbuilding you've ever heard with the dumbest dick jokes in existence. I still haven't gotten over the spider and the hummingbird.

Speaking of Spout Lore, the new Rude Tales of Magic episode has Abdul Aziz as a guest. He was a great guest, his style of humor fits perfectly with the setting of Piss Harbor. Are all the characters he plays street rats with a heart of gold. Excited to see who they bring on as guests in the future. They had Zac Oyama a few episodes ago, I would be excited to see more Dimension 20 people.

The new @midstpodcast was super interesting! Every episode in this season they've introduced another way that the Trust is incredibly fucked up. Why can't we go back to the Mother's Merciful, they were so nice.

Somehow I fell behind on @storiesfromylelmore. I'm not sure how that happened, I think my podcatcher didn't update or something, because I've been listening to new episodes of this show immediately. The second most recent episode was great, with Rion going through werewolf puberty. The most recent episode had some really good character work, with character development for all 3 main characters. I love this show so much.

New episode of SCP: Find Us Alive. A new Dash Two being created is really interesting, we've only had Dumptruck and Hiway Robbery for so long it's weird for there to be a third one. Where did they even get a bird?

I reached the crossover with Forgive Me in @kingmakerpod. Forgive Me is such a grounded show, especially by audiodrama standards, which tend to be way out there, so it's so funny when they cross over with shows that have such a wildly different tone and premise. The character interactions were on point though.

@camlannpod the fairy world! This show continues to have really cool takes on myths. The idea that you can shed a Name simply by going by something else is interesting. Could some random person start going by Lancelot and gain magical powers? The reveal at the end was great too, both from a worldbuilding standpoint and a character perspective.

Man that really was a lot. Lots of stuff to look forward to next week as well!

#audiodrama sunday #audiodrama #audio fiction #dear liisphyra #back again back again #back again pod #spout lore #spout lore podcast #rude tales of magic #midst #midst podcast #midst pod #stories from ylelmore #stories from ylelmore podcast #scp: find us alive #the kingmaker histories #kingmaker podcast #camlann pod #camlann podcast

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try-set-me-on-fire · 8 months ago

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oooo secret caretaking pls <3

Secret caretaking has been answered here, may I tempt you instead with food poisoning? Eddie eats some slightly sketchy leftovers (Buck warned him not to) the day before he turns 35 and faces the consequences. Fic would open on mostly the aftermath of that, Buck home from the shift Eddie had to skip and talking on the phone with Bobby updating him that Eddie’s feeling mostly better and should be up for the party tomorrow. Eddie’s grumpy (he doesnt even like birthday parties for himself anyway) (his tummy hurts) (buck’s making fun of him) and they’re, you know, buck and Eddie and dumb and flirty and sappy while they go to sleep. In the morning he only half wakes up when Buck takes Chris to school, fully wakes up with no one in the house and decides he wants a greasy fast food burger (fuck you tummy) (its his birthday he can do what he wants).

When he gets back from that journey he notices Chimney’s car is there, he and Maddie were going to come over to help with party set up, and he kind of wishes it was just going to be him and Buck for a while because he still kinda feels like shit and also it is his birthday and he’d like some time alone with his hot boyfriend but. Whatever. Walks into the kitchen and Buck tries to say something but Eddie just walks up and kisses him and Bucks like a little frantically wide eyed and says they have guests and Eddie’s like fuck Maddie and Chimney they can avert their delicate eyes and goes in for another kiss but Buck like physically turns his head to look to the kitchen table and Helena and Ramon are sitting there. Eddie (still hasn’t come out to his parents) (was kissing buck) (he’s too recently food poisoned for all of this) is like…………………………… hi mom and dad………………………………… what are you doing here……………………………….. the family party isn’t till Sunday……………………………………

Turns out they decided to come in early to at least say hi on his actual birthday and are now like. Why didn’t you tell us about this. Why didn’t you tell us about any of this? I thought we were doing better I thought you trusted us? Why are you keeping this part of your life from us? Because it seems pretty fucking serious, Buck was here alone and answered the door like he owns the place. Unless this is just some fling? And Eddie (he was FOOD POISONED like YESTERDAY) (it’s his fucking birthday) is like no. No i’m so fucking serious about this. I’m going to marry this man.

And Buck looks like weirdly upset about this and Eddie puts together that he thinks he’s just saying that to prove some point to his parents and Eddie’s like fuck. Oh my god. Stop that. And he opens a kitchen drawer and pulls out the velvet box he hid there (like 3 fucking weeks ago) and is like how have you not used the cheese grater ONCE in the last month. I hid it next to your most used utensil. You were going to pull it out while making dinner it was going to be so romantic. And buck is like (weakly) I’ve been enjoying the texture that the microplane gives the Parmesan. And Eddie’s like (dreadfully in love) (god he wants to lay down) you’re so fucking weird. The cheese grater literally has a side that does that. And Buck’s like yes. Yes I’ll marry you.

And Eddie’s like somehow surprised by that and Buck’s like crying laughing and says I’m so sorry mr and Mrs Diaz please just look away and kisses him, and Eddie’s like okay cool i feel like shit I’m going to go eat this stupid burger in my bed (fries are cold by now) (cold fries are disgusting) (he’s not happy about it). Mom dad you can stay for the party if you want. Or not. Bye. And Maddie and Chimney who have just been here witnessing all this are like. Hysteric. Gleeful. Absolutely texting several group chats rapid fire updates. Buck follows to check on him a few minutes later and they’re sappy again and and Buck says happy birthday before heading back out. The end!

#asked and answered #tag games #bthb #is this my dumbest proposal for them yet. maybe so

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frostyyyroyalmilktea · 2 years ago

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Nevermore Student!Tyler x Thorpe!Reader pt 3

pt 1 pt 4 ao3

This is smaller than previous chapters but it's finals week so I most likely won't be able to update this week. Have this little treat while I struggle with my master's

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

***

Monday morning starts as most Monday mornings do. Way too early. It might’ve not been so awful if you haven’t spent most of the night lying awake, overanalyzing every little thing you said and did last night. But what else could you do? Last night was the most surreal experience of your life, and now you’re kind of afraid it was all just a very vivid dream. But you know it wasn’t. Deep down you feel the tug of this odd new bond. You want to see Tyler. Make sure he’s okay. He looked so worried and unsure yesterday, you wanted to do something—anything—to snap him out of that state. Thinking under pressure is not your strongest suit, let’s be honest. You just hope he wasn’t weirded out by your affections.

So there you are: groggy, anxious, and desperate to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito and wallow in your woes. Ugh, that’s how you usually imagine Xavier’s pastime.

Bianca is one of them morning people—you can’t relate—so by the time you drag your miserable form out of bed, she’s already dressed and almost done with her makeup.

You take a shower, blow dry your hair, and steam your uniform. All under thirty minutes time—because you’re a virtuoso of the fine art of being late without actually being late.

Nevermore allows minimal alterations to the uniforms as long as they don’t contradict the overall sense of integrity. Most people don’t bother, preferring to simply accessorize, but that’s no fun so you had the blazer tailored to button asymmetrically. You pair it with a white silk blouse and wide-leg velvet pants. It’s not exactly in compliance with uniform regulations, but you doubt someone will actually notice and you want to look cute. You opt for classical black Derbys to complete the look and as a jest, decide to take the bag that Xavier gave you as a gift a few Christmases ago. It’s a sizable Jigglypuff plushie bag with a long strap. Surprisingly, it can fit quite a lot. So you pack a blank notebook, a few pens and highlighters, and head out for the day.

The dining hall is in utter chaos. You thought it was busy yesterday morning, but it seems that at least a third of the residents must’ve slept in on Sunday because right now it’s completely topsy-turvy.

The buffet area resembles a warzone and you can’t even see the cereal because of all the people crowding the stand. You skip it altogether and decide that a strong cup of green tea will have to get you through until lunch. You’ll have to wake up earlier from now on to be able to grab breakfast before the rush starts. Fuuuck.

You’re anxiously approaching the far corner table because the possibility that after he had time to sleep on it Tyler decided that you are in fact a grade-A weirdo seems all too real to your sleep-deprived brain. So yeah, you aren’t 100% sure he won’t file for a restriction order, but you try to be optimistic.

You plop your ass on the chair near Tyler’s and announce with way more confidence than you feel: “Good morning sunshine.”

You’ve already started this weird game so you refuse to quit now.

Tyler looks up and his tense frown is immediately replaced by a beaming smile.

Your heart does a cartwheel.

“Morning,” he says. He clearly got there earlier than the avalanche of teenagers went down on the buffet, because he has a delicious-looking plate of scramble in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee. Not something you personally would go for this early in the morning, but you’re jealous nonetheless. “The Fruit Loops were long gone by the time I got here, but I managed to grab you a Snickers,” he says shyly, extending you the candy bar. It's a bit mangled but otherwise intact. “You don’t seem like an English breakfast kind of gal to me,” he adds.

This is literally the cutest shit ever, you think, while your face is doing things of the blushing and grinning variety that you have absolutely no control of.

“You’re literally an angel,” you inform him with all seriousness. “I saw the carnage that was going on out there and decided to grab some tea and get the hell out while I still had all my limbs about me. Like, I’m a lover, not a fighter. Especially not this early in the morning.”

Tyler laughs, “Some guy was actually ready to throw hands with me for the Snickers until he saw that I was… well, me. He looked like was about to piss his pants in fear.”

Tyler says it in good humor but it kind of cuts you unpleasantly, that people are afraid of him like that. All you see when you look at him is warmth and kindness. How do people miss it?

You notice a familiar head of curls stumbling through the dining hall, looking like he might get trampled any second now.

“Gimme a sec,” you say to Tyler and head out to retrieve the little lost pumpkin.

“Eugene, my dude, how are you this fine morning?” You grab his upper arm to steady him after someone bumps into him once again. “Do you have a place to sit?”

“Not really,” he says timidly. “I don’t do well in crowded spaces.”

“Yeah, me either, buddy. Me and my friend Tyler,” you gesture in his vague direction, “sit in the corner there. Care to join us?”

Eugene eyes the table behind you apprehensively, but then, as if he decided something for himself, straightens up and says, “Sure. Thank you, y/n.”

“No probs.”

You lead him to the table and introduce each of them. “Eugene – Tyler, Tyler – Eugene.”

Tyler looks tense. “Hey,” he waves weakly, without looking Eugene in the eyes. His shoulders are hunched like he’s trying to curl in on himself.

“Hi,” Eugene gives him a small smile.

You’re not sure what’s the story here so you ask carefully, “Do you guys know each other?”

“I almost killed him last semester,” Tyler says gravely.

You look at Eugene, but he seems pretty determined when he says, “Yeah, but he didn’t.”

You sit down and Eugene takes the seat next to you, facing Tyler. “I read your letter,” he says. “Thank you for writing it and, you know, fighting Thornhill's command to kill me.”

What the fuck?

Tyler looks up at him, “I still landed you in hospital for over a month.”

“It’s still worth a lot that you tried, Tyler.”

Granted you’ve only talked to the guy twice, but you would’ve never expected to see Eugene so serious and confident.

“So,” Eugene extends his hand. “Fresh start?”

Tyler looks shell-shocked.

“Yeah, fresh start,” he takes the proffered hand. “Thank you.”

Eugene is back to normal—at least what you perceive as his normal—in a jiff, while Tyler seems to be lost in his thoughts so you decide to give him some time and turn your attention to Eugene.

“So I gave some thought to your proposal,” you start.

Eugene lights up with excitement.

“And I came to the conclusion that bees still irrevocably frighten me.”

Eugene’s face falls.

“Buuut, my sweet little pumpkin, fret not, I would still like to join.”

Eugene beams and Tyler, who emerged from his thoughts to join the conversation, looks between you two in amusement as you start explaining to Eugene that you want to make an Etsy store where he can sell the honey and donate the profits to the Bee-related charity of his choice.

“Of course, we’ll have to run it by Weems because there’s money involved in the matter, but I reckon as long as we donate it, she’ll be cool with it.”

“Do you think people will actually want to buy it?” Eugene asks hesitantly.

“We’ll make them want to buy it, my sweet summer child,” you assure him. “We’ll make a Tiktok account—I was thinking something like ‘Eugene’s Bees’, it has a nice ring to it—and we’ll make educational videos with, like, fun twists to them. The orders will start rolling in no time.”

“You’re like really into this,” Tyler remarks softly.

He smiles with one of those smiles that reaches his eyes and you completely lose your train of thought.

“Well, yeah, once I’m into something,” or someone, you don’t add, “it’s near impossible to throw me off.”

“Hm,” is all he replies, smiling mysteriously.

Eugene has to take off earlier to check on bees before class, so it’s just you and Tyler once again.

“You’re so ardent about this whole thing,” Tyler says. “It’s cool seeing you in your element, talking social media strategy. Very… attractive.”

You choke on a bit of Snickers you so unwisely bit off just a second ago.

“I’m very,” you cough out, “passionate about many things.”

Tyler smirks.

Oh God, did you just unwittingly make an innuendo? Shit, you didn’t even mean it like that!

You take a sip of tea as a measure to prevent words from leaving your mouth. You clearly need a moment to reestablish brain-to-mouth connection.

“Listen, I was thinking…” Tyler starts.

And doesn’t continue.

A pause stretches out.

In the end, your curiosity outweighs the fear of saying something dumb.

“Yeah?” You prompt.

“We should exchange phone numbers,” he says hastily, and you have a feeling he was going to say something else but changed his mind at the last moment.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you pull out your phone.

“Is that a flip phone?” Tyler asks, sounding almost in awe.

“It’s Galaxy flip,” you smile, showing him the folding screen. “My dad did a commercial for Samsung a few months ago and they gave him a few of these. They’re not very practical, but they are super cute and you can wear charms on them,” you jiggle the little Hello Kitty charm to draw his eyes to it. “I also like to put different stickers on the case and-”

Tyler catches the charm in his fingers to take a closer look. His hand brushes yours and you freeze mid-sentence, not able to remember how to take a breath.

You’re not usually that awkward around boys. You’ve met Timothee Chalamet once, for crying out loud! And you were very chill about it and told him he was great in Dune. Why is it that around Tyler you turn into a bumbling mess who talks—and what’s more worrying acts—before forming a cohesive thought?

“Y/n?” Tyler looks at you expectantly, extending his hand.

“Right!” You pass him the phone, almost dropping it in the process.

He punches in the numbers but leaves the field ‘contact name’ empty. You stare at it dumbly while he takes out his phone.

You type in Ty and after a moment's deliberation add a heart emoji. It’s just cute, it doesn’t have to mean anything, you tell yourself like a lying liar who lies.

Tyler hands you his phone. It’s a beat-up iPhone 7. The screen is cracked so badly, you can hardly see anything on the lower part. You’re afraid it might give up on its clearly long-suffering existence if you as much as breathe at it wrong.

Tyler senses your apprehension and says, “Those late-night strolls in the woods did not work out all that great for it.”

He sounds embarrassed and you don’t know if it's because the strolls in the woods are a thing in the first place, or is it because he can’t afford a new phone. Either way, you feel like shit for drawing attention to it.

You put in your number, leaving the ‘contact name’ field empty as well. “There you go.”

“Right,” he says, “yeah, umm, good. I gotta go now, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Of course,” you smile sunnily.

Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

He gets up, grabs his backpack, and then leans in and kisses you on the cheek.

“Have a great first day, y/n,” he says and then promptly blasts out of the dining hall at a speed that you’re sure is not entirely human.

You hear Bianca's rambunctious laughter and turn to look at their table. You see her double down from laughing so hard, eyes on your brother who’s currently gripping a butter knife like he wants to commit manslaughter with it.

You’re probably gonna laugh your ass off about it too. But not right now. Right now you just sit there with the most ridiculous grin on your face thinking oh how the turn tables.

***

Author’s note: the turn tables thing is from The Office

Btw, on ao3 every chapter is named after a song so if you’d like to hear what I listen to when I write, come check it out!

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin imagine #thorpe!reader #wednesday

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