#I love her and I love her friends and I want them all to be happy
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musashi · 1 day ago
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posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.
those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.
radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.
ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!
"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.
it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?
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itsrlymine · 2 days ago
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a few “crazy” things i've manifested for myself and others
nothing is actually crazy. everything is the same and nothing is impossible. I Am Possible. 
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An all expenses paid trip to Dubai (twice now) with $0 in my bank account by simply deciding that my only option is to go and be sexy in Dubai (respectfully ofc). I left my wallet in the States on purpose bc I am spoiled and everyone pays for me. That’s exactly what happened. 
I revised my best friend’s pregnancy bc we don’t do baby mamaism around here. Commit to a baby when that man commits to you. Sorry not sorry. She literally took three pregnancy tests and they all told her she was pregnant. I said no, not my girl. She was no longer pregnant. No medical procedure or any pain was experienced or necessary on her end.
Accepted in to the university I wanted to go to bc I thought it was pretty. Super low acceptance rate and I definitely didn’t have the criteria. I didn’t even have to do the college essay just bc I didn’t feel like writing (but ofc I would write fan fiction in a heart beat). 
Every single job I’ve ever had bc ofc you’re gonna hire me I’m the best employee you’ve ever come across.
Becoming besties with manifestation YouTubers I used to watch bc why not?? 
My current remote job that pays me $120/hour and I barely have to do actual work. I genuinely just scroll on Pinterest and Tumblr most of the time and when i do work, it's blissful. Love my boss tho
Apartments for my friends, family members and myself that’s everything we wanted in our individual spaces and more.
My Porsche Boxster that has super low milage and given to me for free like girl byeee.
Tons of new friends and opportunities falling into my lap
I ordered new glasses and they came in fast asf. “Usually” takes at least two maybe three weeks but I said nope, I’m wearing them right now. I am wearing them right now. 
My favorite musicians releasing new music every time I decide I want new music from them. Like if you don’t get in that studio!
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merlucide · 2 days ago
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BLLK TEAM SPOTTING YOU IN THE CROWD!
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notes: hahahahehajajsj I’m SO excited for this guys- the new episode had me TWEAKING.
characters: Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, Niko, Gagamaru, Aryu, Reo, Barou, Hiori, Shidou
warnings: reading the same thing over again but in a different font LMAO, cringe but WHO gaf??, y/n glazing (help😭💀)
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You and your friend managed to snag close seats for the Blue Lock vs. U-20 match, and you could BARELY contain your excitement!!—especially because your beloved boyfriend was playing. You both were decked out in all blue, sticking out from the white and red crowd. The odds were stacked against him and his team, but you had complete confidence that they would hold their own. As you settled into your seats, the teams made their way onto the field. The moment you spotted your boyfriend, you and your friend screamed your heads off, cheering as loud as you could. The game was going great so far; at halftime, the score was 2-1, with Blue Lock in the lead! The players were standing around on the field, catching their breath, when he finally spotted you in the crowd, screaming + waving your arms wildly.
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ISAGI YOICHI
He’s like ehh?!? You came?!? To watch him?!? For reals?!
Gets all touched lmao 😭
Waves back with a big ol smile :3
Means a lot because you cheered for him when he was nobody đŸ„č AND now he’s playing against THE U-20 aaaa
Yells ‘HIIIII’
-Bachira wiggles his eyebrows at him 😏 -which makes him all blushy and pushes him off him lol
Que bachira going ‘ooooooo isagi’s gotta s/ooooooo đŸ€­đŸ˜â€™
So embarrassed hehe
Blows you a little kiss when nobody’s looking tho :3
RIN ITOSHI
He didn’t think you’d come tbh
Feels proud that you did tho! not that he’d let you know ofc
He gave you a little wave and called it good (he has to remain mysterious- especially in front of Sae!!)
He’s very conflicted if he’s glad you came or if wishes you didn’t lmao 💀
Bc when he heard ‘Woah- They’re cute’ from his teammates he snapped his head over
“They’re taken, back off scum.” He’ll snap
Everyone’s sorta like ?? RIN PULLED SOMEONE?? 
Que immediate questioning
‘HOW DID YOU GET A S/O BEFORE I DID?!’ ‘I feel bad for them..’ ‘DID YOU PAY THEM??’
He just tells them to shut up
smirking inside, heh
BACHIRA MEGURU
He’s like 😩-> đŸ€©
inside he’s like ‘OHMYGOSHTHEYCAMEEEEEEE! :D’
Screams your name jumping and waving his arms
‘Y/NNNNNNN ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!? Y/NNNNNNNN!!’
‘YEAAAAAAAAAH!! YOU LOOKED SO COOOOOOOOL!!’
You def go with his mom tho 😌
You and Yuu are screaming your heads off together- ‘GOOO !! YOU GOT THIS!!!’ ‘GET THE FREAKIN’ BALL MEGURU!! HES OPEN- GOOOOO!!!’
Shes very glad you’re supportive of her son đŸ„č<3 (live laugh love yuu)
He points to you and says to his friends ‘THATS MY S/O!!! :D’
and they’re just like ‘..cool buddy’
They’re trying to figure out how he pulled someone lmao
After the match he practically jumps on you lol- No sorry, he literally does and you both crash on the floor
Both of you are just rolling around screaming in excitement lol
CHIGIRI HYOMA
So embarrassed lol
Like ‘My family AND my s/o came?!” Help he appreciates yall coming but it flusters him!!
Especially when his teammates are making comments about YOU and his SISTER
it’s too much for him đŸ™‚â€â†•ïž
He made it real clear that he’s your bf tho, so no one gets ideas!!
Really happy you came though, especially since you were one of the most encouraging people when he tore his ACL <3
NAGI SEISHIRO
Didn’t even think you’d come- like the thought that you would come didn’t even cross his mind (go figure)
‘Oh, y/n’s here, cool’
Lazily waves back
Wants to tell Reo you’re here but remembered that they broke upÂ Â đŸ™‚â€â†•ïž
Yuki goes up to him and asks ‘Oh who’s that?’ and he’s just like ‘It’s y/n’
‘..I see, who is y/n?’ ‘uh, I don’t remember..đŸ§â€â™€ïžâ€™
‘Someone important tho,’
Just sorta stares at you until the whistle blows lmao 😭
KARASU TABITO
Super proud n smug :)
Like ‘Heh, MY s/o came’
Super super happy you’re there omg, but ofc he can’t let that show too much 😌
Waves back ofc
He looks at all his teammates to make sure they’re seeing this
It makes him feel really special that you came to watch HIM play :)
Def a confidence booster
Gets a annoyed bc he knows you spent a shit ton of money for this lmao
🐝:’oooo who’s that Karasu-kun?’ 
🐩‍⬛: ‘Heh, that’s my s/o 😏’
🐝: ‘For realsies? :o’
🐩‍⬛: ‘Yup 😌’
đŸ„·:He’s such a simp bro’
🐩‍⬛:’Shut up Otoya.’
OTOYA EITA
He’s low key tweaking on the inside tbh
gives you the frat boy ‘nod’ and the three finger wave 💀
Doesn’t even wait for anyone to ask about you he’s already going
‘Yeah that hot chick/person is my s/o, it’s aight’ to be jealous’
But they’re just like ?? How tf did YOU pull anybody bro??
Poses for you LMAO
Is def waiting for you to make an edit of him or smth 😐
Your friend is looking at you like ‘seriously, him?~_~’ I am that friend.
Will NAWT shut up about how his hella hot s/o came to his game
YUKIMIYA KENYU
He’s like ‘Oh! They’re here?! Really?’ :3
Calls your name and gives a big wave
Super happy and proud that you came :)
Laughs a bit at the your dramatic outfits but appreciates it!
Tells the nearest person who you are and a bit about cha’ :3
When you blow him kisses he catches em’ and cradles them to his heart >:)
got a side eye from Nagi lol
NIKO IKKI
SOOOO flustered lmao
pink cheeks n everything ><
whispers a ‘hi’ and waves a little wave back
Super duper excited n happy you came :3
Wants to impress you so bad now- lol
Really hope no one sees you bc he might just die if he gets teased
-which of course they do and what he feared happens lmao
ARYU JINBEI
a very stylish single tear falls from his eye
‘Oh dearest y/n, you are so glam for this, I cannot even..!’
Dramatically flares his arms as a ‘wave’ and sings your name
‘Y/NNNNNNNNNN!- are you ready for this historic momennnnnnt-‘
Poses elegantly for you, talking to himself about how styl this is
GAGAMARU GIN
Squinting like ‘Is that y/n’ - o -
then eyes wide like ‘It is y/n’ ‱ o ‱
Jumps up and hits his head on the goal 💀 then proceeds to jump again
Waves both arms and yells really slowly ‘CAAAAAN YOUUUU SEEEEE MEEEEEE?’
Then proceeds to talk to you yelling his lungs out, he stopped when Karasu told him ‘shut up, they can’t hear ya’’
He stopped for a brief moment, then continued
 (after they get on field)
REO MIKAGE
SO happy. Like ‘đŸ„č😁’ happy
Smiling the BIGGEST smile :)
Really, really appreciates you coming
Especially since you were literally the only other person aside from Ba-Ya that supported his dream
And! Speaking of Ba-Ya she was beside you in her usual attire, waving a little blue flag
Waves to you with both hands😌
Also blows you so many kisses ofc 
Afterwards he’s going to give you the biggest hug and the FASTEST smooch ever
BAROU SHOEI
He was hoping you’d come, he wanted you to see just how much more he’s improved 😌
He heard your cheers and screams when he came into field and that also fueled into his desire to crush Isagi >:3 like ‘heh, bet’
You were VERY happy with how he celebrated his goal đŸ˜đŸ€­Â you spammed your camera lmao
Waves back at you ofc, he is a gentleman after all
When someone asks who are you he just says ‘My partner, y/n. Don’t get any ideas donkey.’
heh, 😏
Really appreciates you coming :) especially with how expensive tickets are oml
def forced you to let him pay you back lmao
HIORI YO
He knew his parents would be there, but he wasn’t sure if you’d come. Very pleased you did! :)
Chuckles + rolls his eyes at your outfits
He’s got a cute little smile on his face :3
Waves back at you and signs you ‘thanks’
Points you out as ‘y/n, my sweet s/o’ to Isagi
Brags to him too lmao
Like ‘Yeah, they’re like perfect in every way- but you’ll find someone who is pretty decent though, don’t worry â˜ș’
SHIDOU RYUSEI (my man will always be included soo)
Lets out the goofiest, happiest laugh
points at you with two hands and yells
So pumped you came omg
‘SAE- SAE LOOK! THATS MY BABY! THE ONE I WAS TELLN’ YOU ABOUT!’ ‘I don’t care.’
Continues to yell out you asking ‘DID I LOOK COOL?’ or ‘DID YOU FREAKN SEE THAT?’
Blows you tons of kisses before he has to start again
everyone on the bllk team is genuinely confused how tf this guy pulled anyone and is concerned for you and your mental health 💀
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AHHAJSJEJES IM SO EXCITED BROOOOO
made Nov 9 2024
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menagerofmischief · 3 days ago
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Nugget Update (MV1)
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sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates
driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist
cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)
wc: 4.1k
a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!
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“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.
Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”
Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.
Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.
“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”
“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.
“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”
You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 
Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”
“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”
“Is it working?”
“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”
Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”
“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 
“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”
“You look like a trash can threw you up!”
“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 
And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 
You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.
You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.
Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 
With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.
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With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.
You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”
“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”
Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”
“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”
“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”
You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”
“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.
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The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.
The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.
Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 
His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.
You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 
Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.
At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.
Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 
Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.
Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.
He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 
“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”
“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”
“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.
“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.
Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.
He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely 
 simply lovely.”
You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”
“It is?”
You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.
You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”
“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”
“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.
Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”
Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 
“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.
“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.
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“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.
“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”
“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”
“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 
“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 
“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”
Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 
“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”
“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”
“I didn’t 
 well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”
“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”
“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.
“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”
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You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.
His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”
Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.
The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.
“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”
“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”
“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”
He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.
His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.
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The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 
The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  
Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 
You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 
“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”
“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”
You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 
“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”
Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.
Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 
“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”
Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”
“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”
“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”
You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”
“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”
You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.
You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 
Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.
“I just 
” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”
“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 
“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 
“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 
Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”
“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”
His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
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“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”
“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”
You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 
Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.
The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 
You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.
“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.
“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.
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tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi
i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3
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golden-cherry · 1 day ago
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deal - cl16 (43/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3.5k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.
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When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously. 
“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”
“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”
Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”
Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her. 
“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room. 
Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”
You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”
“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”
“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”
Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?” 
The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”
“And what was the stake?”
Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”
A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”
Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine. 
“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine. 
You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”
Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”
You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”
Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”
“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses. 
Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.
“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”
You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"
“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”
With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”
“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door.  ”You coming?”
You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”
Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”
You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”
Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead. 
“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway. 
Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”
You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”
“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”
You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”
The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”
“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”
Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”
You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood. 
“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”
“We didn't.”
“But you did something.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”
You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”. 
Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot. 
You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell. 
When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.
“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it. 
“Everything's fine,” you smile.
He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”
“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer. 
Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.
Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”
Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him. 
Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”
As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you. 
Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you. 
“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face. 
“What do you mean?”
You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”
“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.” 
“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”
Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”
You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”
“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”
“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”
When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box. 
“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed. 
“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you. 
“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.
You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”
Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”
Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless. 
“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly. 
You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. 
“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you. 
“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”
You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard. 
Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin. 
His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple. 
“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more. 
When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”
With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses. 
Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner. 
“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully. 
The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier. 
“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”
“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”
The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”
“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”
Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”
Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”
Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”
You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”
While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress. 
“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”
You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”
“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”
Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall. 
The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show. 
You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.
“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.
You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”
“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps. 
You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”
He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively. 
“It would be rude to cancel now.”
“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”
You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”
“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”
His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”
“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”
As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.
“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.” 
“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark 
Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”
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loves0phelia · 2 days ago
Note
hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.
I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.
thanks! I love your account btw!
In The Sea
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Summery: the anon
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: grammar mistakes
A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx
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You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.
You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.
“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.
“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.
“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.
“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.
“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.
“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.
“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 
“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.
“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.
“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.
“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.
You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.
“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 
Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.
“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.
“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.
“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,
“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,
“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.
Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.
“holy shit”
“Jesus JJ what's your problem”
“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.
JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.
After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.
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You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.
“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.
“great” he sighed.
“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 
“Right
 are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,
“They don't trust you Rafe
 but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”
“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 
“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.
For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.
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Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.
John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.
“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.
You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.
Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.
You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.
Has you were about to close the door you hear him.
“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 
You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.
“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.
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The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.
“That's not good,” John B says.
“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.
“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.
“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 
The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.
Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.
“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.
“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.
“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.
“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.
“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.
“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.
The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  
You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.
“Cut me loose” he begs.
Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.
“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.
“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.
You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,
“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 
“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.
You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.
This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.
The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.
Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.
“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother
“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.
“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.
A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.
With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.
“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.
You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.
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“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.
“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.
The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.
“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.
“You jumped after me,” you whispered.
“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 
His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.
The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 
Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.
When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.
“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.
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Send request xxx
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buckyalpine · 1 day ago
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I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.
He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.
"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.
"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.
"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.
"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...
"I-
"For the stain"
"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.
"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...
"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.
"Good God"
"Jesus"
"You look fuckin' good terminator"
"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.
"Body shots!"
"What?"
"Yes"
Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.
"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"
He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.
"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.
"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-
"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.
"How much has he had to drink"
"Who cares, me next"
"I think you've licked enough of my husband"
"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"
"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"
"Blink twice if you need help"
"Bro looks like an angel"
"Why aren't you blinking"
"Crafted by the heavens"
"You like this, don't you"
Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.
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xinganhao · 2 days ago
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đŸ„ˆ svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend.
anon → "could you do a post with one of the members getting after yn's bf because he thinks he's not treating her well enough?"
⌗ ┆i have a terrible feeling i might've misunderstood this req,, so please forgive me if i did lol ꒰ ê’ĄâŒ“ê’Ąê’±
â€§â‚ŠËšâœ©ćœĄ includes: reader has a bad boyfriend, hurt/comfort, [light] angst, crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.
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đŸ„ˆ headcanons .ᐟ
— "break up with him now" ✩ junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, vernon.
ah, yes. the trope of someone who will immediately insist that breaking up is the solution, although, in this case, it's completely warranted. soonyoung and minghao are the most vocal about you ending your relationship, but in their own little ways. for his part, soonyoung's a little annoying about it— you'll barely have explained your current predicament and he's already whining, "just break things off with him!" minghao, meanwhile, actually listens, but his expressions and consequent advice are brutal. he's always been no-bullshit when it comes to life, and so when he hears about all the things your boyfriend is doing/has done? he's actively advocating for you to get up and go. junhui's the type to take it out on your boyfriend. he's constantly threatening bodily harm and various other minor crimes against the poor guy, even though he doesn't really ever act on it. he is extra cold when he's in the other man's presence, to the point that your boyfriend may be under the impression that junhui hates him. (spoiler alert! jun does!) wonwoo isn't always vocal about his distaste; he's a little more backhanded/passive-aggressive about it. he's more of an actions guy, through and through. picking up the slack here and there to show you that your boyfriend is a dick for not doing things that your friends can. vernon also struggles a bit to get the right words out, so he just... says it as it is. he may look like he's packaging his advice as a joke, but he's 100% sincere when he sends you breakup playlists and reddit threads about ending things with your significant other. that's just his way of communicating it, really.
— "but are you okay?" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, mingyu, jihoon, seokmin, seungkwan.
for the most part, all the boys are the 'just-end-your-relationship-please' type, but there's also some who rely more on expression of concern. take mingyu, for example, whose chief endeavor will be to cheer you up. he'll leave sweet nothings and encouraging notes in hopes of lifting your mood; his eyes, constantly peeled to see how you're faring. you can rant in to the wee hours of the morning, and both seungkwan and joshua will listen. they'll let you tell the same old stories again and again; even if they half-joke that you just never listen to them, they're still there as a shoulder to cry on. seungkwan is more likely to give advice, while joshua's strength lies in non-judgmental indulgence. seokmin will make it his life's mission to distract you from the issue at hand. a movie night? a trip to an obscure café? if it will improve your mood in any way, shape, or form, he's already halfway there. he won't even mention your boyfriend, if you don't bring him up. seungcheol is similar to mingyu in the sense that he best expresses his concern through little encouraging gifts. he's not the type to push the envelope, to try and get you to talk when/if you're not ready, so he just communicates to you that he's there, when/if you need him. jihoon's also a bit unsure how to navigate a relationship that's not his. he can pick up how you're feeling, at the very least, and so he instead focuses on that. he's a quiet, steadfast presence who will take you to the gym or encourage you to write songs, if only because he thinks those might be potential solutions.
— "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" ✩ jeonghan, chan.
svt's petty line, how i love you so. they can all admittedly be petty when they want to be, but these two? they take the cake. jeonghan is a big believer in "show him what he's missing." he'll snap hot photos of you on your behalf. he'll let you use him as a nice little ploy to incite some jealousy. is it a little toxic, a bit red flag-y? sure, but that asshole is putting you through much worse. jeonghan's a firm believer that revenge is a dish best served cold, and he's cold to the bone when it comes to making sure you get what you deserve. (and that your boyfriend, too, has what's coming for him.) chan is insistent that you should break up with your boyfriend, of course, but he's a big believer that you should go out with a bang. it's a bit amusing, to see one of the group's more lowkey members insist that your boyfriend should be on the receiving end of a public lashing. some might say he just likes the drama. truthfully, he just wants to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you're not someone to be messed with, and that you're not going to settle for anything less now that you've kicked the devil's incarnate to the curb.
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sage-nebula · 2 days ago
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This has been spinning around in my head since I watched season 2 arc 1, and I can't refrain from putting it down to post anymore.
In season 1, Jayce and Viktor get into a fight when Viktor evades the blockade to go speak to Singed in Zaun. During their fight, Jayce snaps at Viktor that he didn't know that Viktor's friend was from the undercity, and when Viktor asks why that matters, Jayce says the above: [people from the undercity] are dangerous (earlier he had also said, "there are people down there who seem hell-bent on destroying us!"). That's when Viktor grows cold, reminding Jayce that he is from the undercity, and even after Jayce apologizes, Viktor knocks his hand away, choosing to stand up on his own.
In season 2, chembarons hired by Ambessa (though no one knows that at the time) attack the memorial for the dead council members. In the aftermath, Caitlyn calls them animals. Notably, Vi shows no reaction at all to this; she doesn't so much as flinch at Caitlyn's word choice. Instead, while she does downplay what happened to an extent ("they wanted the spectacle, they're trying to scare you"), what's notable is that she separates herself from the people of Zaun. This is especially notable when she tells Caitlyn to call off the invasion, because of the risk it poses for those not from Zaun:
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"Down there, you'll be on their terms."
Viktor seems to have pride in the fact that he is from Zaun. He has love for his home. As difficult as life was there, as much as the pollution led to his illness and disability, he has no shame that he's from Zaun and he still sees value and has love for the people there. This is why, when Jayce writes the Zaunites off as "dangerous", Viktor grows cold. He is no different from them, in his mind; if they're dangerous, then so is he.
Vi is . . . different.
In season 1 arc 1, Vi expresses to Vander that she has bought into and believes that those in Piltover are more than those in Zaun:
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Now, here, Vi is still grouping herself in with the rest of Zaun. But there is a level of self-hatred (and hatred for one's home) that we don't see in Viktor. Viktor doesn't see himself as lesser than those in Piltover. He doesn't see the Zaunites as lesser than those in Piltover. Vi, however, does. She states this as if it is a fact. And while she loved her family, and has parts of Zaun that she likes (e.g. Jericho's food), it's worth noting that at the end of season 1 episode 1, she isn't telling Powder that they'll liberate Zaun, or fight for Zaun, or anything like that. Instead?
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"This city's gonna respect us." This city. Not our city. Here is the first moment we see in which Vi puts some separation between herself and the rest of Zaun. She wants to make them respect her (and Powder). Even if she's less than those in Piltover, she still sees an opportunity for herself to be above those in Zaun.
All of this is to say that, when she has no reaction to Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", when she refers to them as "they," when she refers to Zaun as "their terms" . . . ultimately, it isn't too surprising. Vi represents a type of person who does exist in marginalized groups: the self-hating type, who hate others in their group for "drawing aggression" or "negative attention."
Think about queer people, for instance, who hate those who are flamboyant or open about who they are and who they love. The ones who think, "If we just assimilate more, be less of a bother, be less obnoxious, then the queerphobes will accept us." Obviously, other queer people find this type of person extremely frustrating, sometimes even infuriating, because we know that it doesn't matter what we do or how we act; bigots will never accept us.
But what we should understand, and extend compassion for, is that self-hating marginalized people are that way because it's a defense mechanism -- a survival mechanism, really. They can't square why bigots hate them, so they reach for any kind of explanation they can find, even if that explanation ultimately blames others in their own group and does more harm than good. Not to mention that hating yourself for who you are is often a result of long-term, systemic abuse -- the exact same kind of abuse that comes from living under an oppressive regime that murdered your parents and will assault you at any given opportunity, even for something as petty as your little sister miming shooting them with finger guns.
Vi says that she, "grew up knowing [she] was less than them." This is extraordinarily damaging to the psyche, and Vi's self-hatred -- and the extension of that hatred toward Zaun, not wanting to save them but wanting to make them respect her -- is a trauma response to that. One that Viktor, obviously, doesn't share (and neither does Ekko, or Jinx) -- but everyone reacts to trauma differently.
The point is, we saw shades of this already in Vi's childhood; her statement that she's less than topsiders, but that she wants those in the undercity to respect her. So when Caitlyn calls the Zaunites animals, Vi doesn't flinch. She agrees. And she speaks of them as separate from her, because Caitlyn has already designated her as one of the good ones (reinforced to her by what Maddie told her Caitlyn said right before the memorial), and because, well, those who attacked the memorial did do something horrible. And maybe if they wouldn't do that, and maybe if Jinx hadn't blown up the council building -- maybe if they were better behaved -- then the enforcers wouldn't have to invade and do what they were about to do, now would they? Those in Zaun -- or at least those in Zaun who decided to strike against Piltover -- brought it on themselves, so Vi isn't with them. She's with Caitlyn, and is okay with referring to them as animals.
It's interesting to think about.
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kitten-kokomo · 2 days ago
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Hi I’m here because Finch is incredibly useful for me
I get attached to things like stuffed animals easily, and Finch is another one of those. Mine is named Skipper, and she reminds me to get things done, so I can buy her cute outfits and send her on adventures. It’s great!
The app never shames you for missing a goal or forgetting to take an adventure.
How it works, for the curious:
You get a finch, name it, fall in love with it forever
you set goals for yourself (you can have them repeat or not), like brush your teeth, exercise, drink water, enjoy a hobby, or get some work done!
when you complete a goal, you get energy, and when you have enough, your finch goes on an adventure for the day.
When they come home, they tell you what they saw and are adorable about it!
you also get rainbow stones (coins) for completing goals, so you can buy clothes and furniture for your finch
Other cool features include breathing exercises, a super robust reflection/journal system which includes tags, so you can see how things like people or activities affect you, some activities for anxiety moments (like the 5 things you can see, four things you can hear thing, etc) and a lot of other cool stuff like stretches
also; micropets, which are lil pets for you per! It’s the cutest thing cuz they get bigger and it’s so smol and precious and AHHHHH
you can also send lil messages to your friends with the app, it’s adorable
The app runs on a freemium model. It is FREE to use and to access all the main features. If you pay for a subscription, you can get a few more bells and whistles, but it is not essential or pay-to-use at all. I use the free version, and the only issue I have ever had is that you can’t pick the emojis that tags (like your friends, or words like choir or math or swimming) are assigned, so at present, “legs” has been assigned a picture of a screwdriver, “thought” is a dragon, and “flute” is just a random circle. Not a big deal.
Here’s some pics!
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Finch is a great app, especially if you struggle with getting things done, and want a happy little birdie to remind you to do things!
Two things to prop up right now:
The ACLU - They’ll do their best to make sure this dumpster fire doesn’t turn into a wildfire.
The Trevor Project - They’ll be fielding a lot of calls, texts, and chats in the next few days and beyond.
And, if you need something, try Finch. It’s the best self-care app I’ve ever used.
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eupheme · 11 hours ago
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Not to be the little gremlin obsessed with Chappell Roan BUT
 reader thinking Logan is too cool to want a proper relationship with them, so when things get physical they insist things are just “casual” in order to protect themselves from getting hurt. But secretly you’re in love with each other, so honestly, neither of you want things to be casual at all
 (mutual pining my beloved) please & thank you!! Love you!
ahh hi hi avo I LOVE this song, and this request, and you - I could so see this being a situation that Logan and reader find themselves in. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it! (I added a couple winks to the lyrics as well.) 💖 thank you so much for sending this to me!!!
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casual | variant!logan howlett x f!reader
1.2k | posessive!logan, fwb(???), use of alcohol, mutual pining, references to oral sex and PiV.
It doesn’t matter that your heart flips when you look at him. It’s Logan. It’s just casual.
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It certainly feels like a dream, watching your worlds collide.
The heft of Logan’s palm fitting into your friends as he shakes their hand - the five of you squeezed into your usual booth in the corner of the bar.
You’d say the past couple weeks had seemed that way, as well. A late-night dose of bravery spiraling into something so raw and intense and real, that you feel like you could choke on it.
Even now, there’s heat in your cheeks as your eyes flick his way. Something stirring in your chest at the way his other arm slings across the back of the booth almost possessively.
But like all dreams, there comes a moment where you have to wake up.
Because you know it’s not.
Because you know your feelings aren’t requited. How could they be, when it’s Logan you’re talking about?
A legend.
A lone wolf.
Someone important, someone whose name carries a weight. Who saved the world, from what Wade tells you.
And you’re - you.
So even if you know what he looks like beneath that flannel, know what his mouth feels like when it presses against yours - what he sounds like, when he comes - you know that this is nothing.
It’s casual. A distraction, for both of you.
And if that’s how it has to be, then you’ll do your best to show him you’re cool with it.
You just hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. It had been a genuine offer, your “you wanna come with?” when the hour rolled around for your weekly trivia night.
Not thinking his head would cock to the side. The look he’d give you - that arched brow, as his fingers splayed out across your bare hip. Still crowded together on your couch, sweat-dewed.
The “sure, sweetheart” that slipped out.
And now you’re introducing him as your friend - that quick history you’ve perfected - rattling off the “you know, Wade from work’s roommate” even though Wade didn’t work at the dealership anymore.
He had made enough of an impression that none of your friends had forgotten.
And you ignore the bitter jolt in your stomach, when all Logan does is hum.
You think you must have assumed right.
He doesn’t correct you.
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Logan quickly solidifies himself as an asset to the team. He gets a lot of the history questions that you’ve always struggled with. A shy quirk of his lips when your friends cheer, and you get swept along with it.
His hand ending up on your thigh along the way. Squeezing, when you chime in. Almost as if forgetting - it’s easy to, when you’re having fun like this.
A low rasp in your ear, when the host takes a break.
“Lemme get you another.”
You can only nod, as he eases out - taking your glass with him.
It only takes a second, before MJ’s hand slaps down on yours.
“That’s Logan?” She hisses - leaning forward, “The one who-”
“Yes.” You cut her off, ignoring the sideways glance her boyfriend gives you.
You never should have told her about that.
Had a hard enough time climbing into your car without thinking about it, yourself - the way he had man-handled you in the passenger seat. Thighs thrown over broad shoulders.
Fingers twined in his hair, as he made you moan in the dark parking garage. Too eager to make it up to your apartment.
She frowns, the words petering out, “But I thought-”
Your teeth worry at your lower lip.
“Yeah. Me too.” You sigh.
MJ knows how much you like him.
Really like him - butterflies, and everything. How it’s been years since you felt this way - slipping from you during that rushed phone call at 6 am the morning after your first night together.
Her eyebrows raise, and it’s a look you know well.
“It’s, you know.” Your hand waves, “It’s casual. It’s-”
It’s easier, this way.
Maybe if you keep repeating it, it won’t hurt as much when he moves on.
The look she shoots you is one of pity, just as a drink is set down in front of you.
Your teeth clicking against each other as the words are swallowed. Forcing a smile as Logan slips back in the booth next to you.
The next round starts a moment after, and it’s a welcome reprieve.
You miss the way his eyes narrow, as yours fix firmly on scorecard in front of you.
But you don’t miss the way his hands stay folded on top of the table, for the rest of the night.
You suppose he must have remembered where he was.
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“You wanna come up?”
He lingers outside your apartment door, hands jammed into his pockets. That look from the bar is back - all dark, narrowed eyes.
A low sound in his throat, close to a scoff.
“That what you want, sweetheart?”
Your eyebrows raise, “Yeah. I do, I mean-, that’s what we usually do, right?”
He’s spent just about every night at your apartment. His things still scattered across your room. A leather jacket slung across the chair that’s tucked against your vanity.
Logan’s lips twist at the edges, eyes dropping.
“Suppose we do.” Those hands slip from his pocket, crossing over his chest, “Back when I thought we knew what we were doing. But now
”
His head shakes. A tick in his jaw.
Your stomach drops.
“What do you mean?”
Logan huffs, “The bar, baby. Is that how you really feel?”
A step closer, until he’s caging you in. Voice dropping, rough and low - near gritted out.
“Does this,” His fingers flick between your chest and his, “feel casual to you?”
Your heartbeat gallops behind your ribs.
“I thought-,” You manage, “Thought that’s what you wanted.”
He’s too close, now. The dip of his head, those eyes burning in their shades of brown and gold.
“Now, why would you think that?”
You swallow, “Because you’re you, and I’m-”
“You’re?” He prompts, but you go silent.
A sigh, when your head dips.
Unable to say it out loud.
“Driving me crazy all night, you know that?” He rasps, “Giving me those looks. Calling me your friend, when we both know your mouth was around my cock this morning.”
A low rumble in his throat, “When I still taste like you.”
Your breath hitches, as his hand thumbs at your jaw, tilting it up.
“Lemme ask you again.” His mouth is close enough now to ghost against yours, “Is that how you really feel?”
Your head shakes.
“Wanna be yours.”
It’s breathed out, just as he kisses you.
His body pressing flush, as your hands twine around his neck. A palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens it.
Desire thrumming to life inside you, washing out the dregs of insecurity that you’ve been carrying this whole time. Melting them away completely with the hungry sweep of his tongue, the way he swallows your soft moan.
There’s a flash of white when he finally leans back, with the curve of his lips.
“Good.”
His hand closes around the knob. A rough twist, as his another arm wraps around your waist.
Walking you backwards, into the dark.
“The let me show you exactly how I feel.”
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thank you so much, again!! 💖
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sweetpupii · 2 days ago
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Hi! Do you take requests?
If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:
"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra
finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"
of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏
If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)
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Let's start by saying Caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.
sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.
( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )
it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.
your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.
she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.
“Should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.
oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.
the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.
legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.
if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking àč‹àŁ­â­‘ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you
yet.
she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.
she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.
the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.
“Caitlyn.”
of course it had to be her mother out of all people.
cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!
“It is 3 am; please take your
 friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.
“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.
she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.
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missmarveledsblog · 2 days ago
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Dustin's got a sister? ( Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)
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summary : friday where DND nothing would stop that except the discovery of Dustin Hendersons older sister of course which leds to eddie wondering if he was wrong about the whole love at first sight thing being crap .
warnings : fluffy fast burn , mutual pinning , eddie being a simp for sure . picture doesn't represent the reader it was just a fic cover i made
Friday meant one thing to Eddie munson and that was Hellfire night . The club were beginning what he could only describe as his best campaign yet ,the loud roars and cheer or cries filled the basement of Dustin Henderson since the older boys graduated it became the new spot . What Eddie didn't know was that the boys were not the only ones in the house as the music upstairs caused them to halt and look to the owner of said basement in confusion .
 " It's just my sister , ignore her" he shrugged, wanting to continue but the sudden excitement of Lucas and Mike only made the older boy more curious .
" sister since when do you have a sister" Eddie almost challenged. " since my mom and dad you know and then she was born" Dustin's head tilted knowing he'd mentioned her before .
"and She's smoking hot" Lucas blurted out for Mike Wheeler to nod eagerly in agreement.
" How come we've never seen her around?" Gareth asked .
" because she went to a different school and usually she was with her asshole boyfriend but they broke up also she hangs out with Steve and robin, she also busy with college stuff " Dustin looked around the table seeing all their confused faces.
" Wait, I've never seen her when I hang out with them" Eddie looked at the boy .
" that's because she was with her boyfriend ,I literally just said that" he rolled his eyes.
" hey dusty bun you down there .... Oh shit sorry i forgot you had company" all their eyes landed on the woman standing there hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in shorts and tank top .
" hey Y/N" Lucas waved dreamingly . 
" Hey Sinclair," she smiled . 
" Hey wanna join," Mike asked.
" I can't tonight. I got a paper due on Monday, just came down to see if Dustin ate , but now the question expands , "Do you guys want pizza?" she smiled bright towards them, eddie could have sworn he had drool coming out of his mouth .
" yeah totally would eat pizza with you" Jeff chin resting in his hands . " Ok pepperoni would be a safe choice right" she looked, seeing them all nod . " ok i shall call when it's here " she ran up the stairs, cheeks heated suddenly aware of her attire and the eyes of the boys roaming her body . 
" How the hell is that your sister?" gareth asked, totally in awe .
 " Told you , smoking hot" Lucas beamed proudly.
" You asked her to join, why ?" Eddie almost whispered not ready for the answer in fair of his mind short circuiting even more that it was . " because she's the reason that we know how to play" Mike whispered back, sending the group of boys almost into a group of school girls fawning .
 " So you're telling me that the smoking hot goddess of a woman is a nerd like us" .
 " Can you all please stop calling my sister hot?" Dustin grimaced, suddenly regretting offering his basement for the Hellfire club . when the music changed and the familiar riffs flooded his ear drums . 
" Is that?... YOUR HOT SISTER LIKES METAL" Eddie almost roared across the table . 
" Is it too late to quit hellfire?" Dustin groaned.
It seemed the campaign was forgotten about after half an hour of questioning. Dustin Henderson was never more grateful for the pizza man's arrival but when she told them to come up he was almost trampled as his friends tried getting up the stairs .
" holy shit you guys must be hungry , no need to panic i got more than enough " she laughed seeing them pushing each other out of the way . 
" Totally starving" gareth smiled brightly.
" ok well plates are there and help yourself" she pointed to the counter .
" ladies first" Eddie smiled, arm outstretched . 
" Thank you" she moved, grabbing her plate and pizza before heading to the sofa. " I just stuck on halloween if you guys wanna join" she called eyes on the screen not seeing the pushing and shoving happening in the kitchen before eddie smiled victoriously beside her. " I love this movie" he winked . 
" I literally only started it so you all aren't missing much ... wait what about the campaign" her head tilted as they all sighed in content.
" Apparently due to hormones it's over" Dustin grumbled sitting on the other side of her . 
" Shit sorry that was my fault if I'm being too loud I can go to my room" she offered only for a chorus of no's and don't to fill the room . " you're fine, really we can do it another time apparently" Dustin smiled seeing the worry on her face. Before anyone else could say anything the doorbell went off making her run out to see who it was totally forgetting she invited steve and robin over.
" hey if you can find a place to sit" she led the two in.
" Hey guys," the three kids called.
"Hey Harrington man , nice to see you , how come you never mentioned the sweetheart of a sister Dustin had before" Eddie smiled yet glaring at his friend.
" because Dustin told me not to" he shrugged, heading off to the kitchen .
 "Do I embarrass you or something?" She turned to her brother.
" No just you were with that douche before and i didn't want him embarrassing me" he lied easily . 
" That's a good point," Robin nodded .
 " I hated that guy so much" Steve agreed eagerly as he handed Robin her plate as he sat beside Dustin .
 " Ok enough about my ex and let's watch the movie" she huffed, letting her damp nearly dry hair out of the towel . As soon as the lights went out all their attention went to the movie playing well mostly to the movie. Eddie's attention did try to stick to the screen but it often shifted to the girl sitting beside him. wondering how the hell he wasn't a puddle in the chair or if the beating of his heart was audible given how fast it was , was he sweating cause sure as hell felt like it . He watched the light of tv shine on her face, her relaxed state or... shit she grabbed his hand , why was he short circuiting over a girl grabbing his hand . 
" Sorry that part always make me jump" she whispered soft laugh spilling from her pillow plump lips , he could of sworn he saw a blush on her face but wasn't sure giving the limited light .
" if you need to grab it again feel free too" he whispered back smiling so wide showing off his dimples .
" thank you munson" now he was hoping more parts would make her jump . her hand in his throughout the movie it turned out his campaign wasn't the highlight of this Friday after all.
Once the movie ended Dustin hit the lights making them all groan at the sudden intrusive brightness . except the light snores filled out the room making them all turn to see the older henderson and eddie passed out cold her head on his shoulder and his hand holding hers .
 " Awhh that's so cute" Robin cooed, hiding her amusement.
" Damn it, I was gonna ask her out " Gareth growled, making everyone turn to the boy . " I said that out loud huh?" he stood rubbing the back of his neck .
 " Very loud," Steve snorted . "Come on i can drop you guys home" he stretched as the all looked at him wide eyed.
" Seriously "king"Steve Harrington is going to let us be seen with him" Jeff almost gasped out.
" yeah yeah dont cream your pants , come let them sleep" he ushered the gang of still shocked boys out the door. Only for Dustin to slam it shut behind them waking the two .
 "Where is everyone?" she asked, confused.
" yeah i remembered more people being here" Eddie rubbed his eyes . 
" Steve's dropping them home since you two were all cuddled up in sleepland" . 
"Shit i'll go clean up and head out before your mom comes home '' Eddie yawned and stretched ready to head back down to the basement . 
"Just stay, she's not home till Sunday," Dustin yelled, heading down to his own room . 
" If you want to, I mean we can watch another movie," she smiled nervously was he making her uncomfortable or was it something else.
" Yeah i could totally stay, I got some clothes in my van , let me grab them" he beamed with excitement.
" I'm going for a smoke so i'll come out with you" she grabbed her shoes and jacket pulling out the carton of cigarettes and lighter . 
" Lead the way princess" he opened the door letting her walk out first. The night's crisp air hitting them , she stood on the porch as he ran down grabbing the backpack out of his van given his original plan was to sleep at jeff's for the night so wayne could have a night's sleep in his room for once. When he looked back to see she was sitting on what he called the outdoor sofa to rile Dustin up, her eyes looking up at the sky lost in the stars above even then she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen . The slow exhale of smoke and she turned to smile at his approaching figure .
 " You cold, i can give you my jacket" he was already going to take it off pulling out his own cigarettes.
" no it's not too chilly tonight ,it actually a nice night" she mused moving so he could sit beside her.
"So Dustin mentioned you went to a different school. How come" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything about the woman sitting beside him . 
" You don't remember me huh?" she asked, confusing him completely.
" we actually went to the same school til i'd say middle school i changed schools because tommy hagan kinda made my life hell so my mom moved me to a different school since the principle wouldn't do anything about it , i was fat kid with curly ass hair , he called me sparky cause of this'' She shrugged the jacket showing the lightning bolt scar on her arm Making him remember completely who she was.
" shit yeah i remember, i also remember you punching him when he picked on other kids" he mused.
" another reason i had to move schools, the irony of letting myself being their victim and yet seeing ready when i seen them torment someone else " she snorted, tapping the ash of her cigarette . 
" Shit i would've never pictured you and Dustin to be siblings," he chuckled.
" Well back then my parents were still married and I wasn't always Henderson" She pointed out.
" Well that also checks out, still i've always thought that scar was metal , how you get it?" . 
"Wasn't struck by lightning sadly that would of been cooler no i burned it trying to make my own shield" she giggled. "
That's still metal in my books" he chuckled. 
" I guess your right I mean my mom didn't think so in the ER but hey it was good shield think it's still in the garage" throwing the cigarette away , sneaking a quick glance at the most adorable and probably hottest guy she ever met sitting beside her .
" you in college now or ? " he asked .
" yeah just an hour drive away, studying nursing what about you ? " she turned. Her eyes made him completely weak at the knee's .
" apprentice mechanic " she noticed how his smiled didn't quite reach his eyes when he said it .
" well if you ever get hurt on the job call me, I'll come nurse you back to heath " she nudging him playfully there it was a real smile on his pretty face.
" come on we head in or I'll be the nurse when you catch some flu or cold being out here " he stood holding his hand out to help her up .
" wanna was nightmare on elm Street" she asked.
" of course and if you get scared you can hold my hand " he winked as they walked into the house.
" I mean it is scary movie dare I say even terrifying you might get sick of me holding your hand" she teased heading to the other side of the room to grab the tape and a blanket .
" never would I do such a thing " he held his hand over his heart those damn dimples that made her heart skip a beat or the glint of the rings as he held his hand over his heart.
" could you put the movie in , I'll grab the snacks and some drinks " she scurried of the kitchen . Putting the movie on pause before he called to say he was putting some pyjamas on before it got started .
When he came in she had snacks pile on top of each other along with the soda . He could of sworn he caught her checking him out but brushing it off instantly.
" ready" she lifted the blanket up for him to join .
" born ready darling " he hit the lights as the second movie of the night started playing he suddenly felt the,warmth of her palm in his . " just incase I get to scared " she winked now he was one who was grateful for lack of lights cause he was sure he was beet red now.
" better safe the sorry " he whispered his voice almost cracking in the nervous manner of possibly the hottest most beautiful girl he'd met holding his hand ... his goddamned hand . the two say eyes locked on screen itching to look at the person at their side . She inched her way closer as the movie played when jumpscare came on she couldn't help bury her head In his chest . The smell of his cologne and cigarette filled her sense as she felt the vibrations of his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'll keep you safe princess " she could feel the almost cocky grin in his words feeling her little plan worked .
" thank you eddie my hero " she cooed looking up through her lashes making his gulp audibly leaning up and a peck to his lips, he was sure to die in his spot . A victory smile she kept her head on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her , she could hear the now steady beating of his heart as he gotten comfortable in the new position his hand rubbing up and down her back . Wasn't long til the two got way to comfortable and feel asleep in each others arms to content to even care .
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ace-of-bass · 9 hours ago
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Also: Building community is not just an outreach tool. It is a tool of keeping ourselves safe and keeping resources available to all. Offering things on social media like rides to abortion clinics, or diy hrt, or anything else that is perhaps not-totally-legal in all places, is not a great strategy. For one, you shouldn't trust strangers on the internet with information that sensitive, so those you are offering those services to would do well not to trust you. If you want to meaningfully contribute to providing things such as the above, or even more legal-but-logistically-complex things like feeding a large number of people, handing out narcan, etc, you need to organize in person. How do you organize in person? By meeting people in person, aka building community.
If this is your goal, you can start with people who are very similar to you! You don't have to start by reaching out to Alt Right David or even Annoying Uncle Bill - you can start by going to a local show or a group that meets at the library or hanging out with your D&D group when you're not actively playing D&D. Then, you have friends that you can rely on to take care of you, and who you might be able to plan some cool mutual aid shit with. I've been working on building community for awhile, at first not intentionally and lately very intentionally, and here's how I met the group of friends I started a monthly free store with:
1. Met Friend A at a choir thing since I like to sing and was looking for friends after moving somewhere new. Friend A ultimately left choir but we stayed friends, and at one point I told Friend A I'm ace.
2. Friend A said, "oh you'd love my friend B, who's also ace! She's doing a comedy show, let's go see her perform together and then you can meet her!"
3. Friend B and I become friends, and start a local peer support group for aspec people, based mostly on Friend B's existing communities and our sheer determination.
4. Fast forward a year and a half, Friend C comes to our aspec peer support group and I become friends with her.
5. Friend C and I are talking about activism, and Friend C says a lot of the things I'm interested in aligns with what Friend D has talked to her about. Friend C introduces me to Friend D.
6. Independently, I have been building a community space on my street, in the rough neighborhood of where Friend C, Friend D, and I live.
7. Friend D and I want to create a solarpunk future but decide to start small. Friend D ropes in several of his friends, one of whom I happen to know from the community space mentioned in 6.
8. This group of friends runs a free store once a month in the community space, open for all to donate to and all to attend. As we find out about others who are doing/want to do similar things, we try to join forces. In this way we've expanded from just a free store to a free store + clothing swap, and we're only on our third time hosting it.
All of these friends are lefty, and all of them are queer in some way or another. The free store friends are explicitly anarchist, like me. I think OP's point is useful for deradicalization and for growing the movement, but if you are alone and you are scared, encouragement to build community is just as much about finding your people in person as it is about forming coalitions with those different in you.
Another important note is that finding people like you should be a starting point, not an ending point. The goal of this is not to find friends, though that's a good start. The goal is to build dual power, which is done by working together with others and having open doors to join the movement. Once you've found some friends or communities, work to ensure that they are open to all, that you are reaching the people who most need the work you are doing, and that you are not simply making yourself feel good or just having a good time with your friends.
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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raysrambles · 2 days ago
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on the day the election results got announced, one of my friends wasn't at school. she was the friend that I had the most classes with, and I remember as the hours ticked by the painful knowledge that she wasn't sick, not physically, but that she just couldn't bear to be there that day.
i overheard classmates talking. "how are you?" asked one; in a broken voice, another: "I don't know".
"I'm scared," was the most common sentence I heard that day. "i can't live like this," said someone in the hallway; "we've still got each other," said another in what I desperately wanted to believe was hope.
"I prayed last night for the first time since I was five," said a friend of a friend; I looked out the classroom window at the cloudy sky and wondered if there was a god, and if he had heard them.
I watched people break down crying in the middle of class. by the end of the day, several kids had left school early.
"I need to get out of here," I said to my friends at lunch. "we're not going to make it another four years," said one of them grimly. how dystopian, how orwellian was it that a group of seventeen year olds were so casually discussing their escape from the country they had grown up in, the country that had raised them only to throw them to the dirt before they were even able to vote?
after school i drove to another school for a debate tournament. one of the judges who I hadn't seen in a year and with whom I'd only had one or two conversations came up to me and asked "how are you doing?"
"could be better," I admitted, "but I'm surviving." that was a bit of an understatement; there were tears in my eyes even as I spoke.
"I'm here," she told me, this woman who I hardly knew, and I realized that she was asking because she remembered one of our only interactions, a year ago, where I had casually mentioned being trans--
--and her gaze flitted down to my shoes, where back then I had had beads in the colors of the trans flag, beads that weren't there anymore, not because of any change in myself but that of the world around me.
"I'm here," she said again, and we stared at each other for a few seconds. I managed a "thanks", not trusting myself to say anything else.
that night I went onto Instagram. someone I hadn't spoken to since we fell out over a year ago had texted me a simple "I love you and am with you" type of message. all of my friends and even people I hardly knew were posting about the election, and I remembered
back when Biden was elected, the Republicans I saw online reacted with hatred, disgust, doubt for his abilities
but now all I saw from the ones who had lost this battle was fear
when the other side lost, they had the privilege of hatred
now that we've lost, all we can do is fear.
terrified sixteen, seventeen, eighteen year olds, in flurries of messages to long-gone friends and frantic posts. I had never felt more united, and yet I could not relish in our closeness because I knew it was not the closeness of friends but the closeness of soldiers too young for war, huddling close as their imminent death rained down from the sky, searching for some last comfort at the end of their too-short stories.
"I won't pretend this isn't as bad as it is," I typed out, "honestly I'm freaking scared. But we owe it to ourselves not to let this be the end of our beliefs.
"We still know we're right, even if the government doesn't agree. We're still all in this together.
"Love to everyone who's affected by this. I'm right here with you. Stay safe everyone."
I posted the Instagram story, praying to a god I didn't know that the words were true.
the next night when the house and senate election results came in, I cried, and it was not pretty crying, it was a child wracked with sobs in the dark on the floor of their room because they were only seventeen and terrified for their future.
I spent a long time writing that night, something I do to process my thoughts when everything is too much. I will simply offer this passage, which I think speaks for itself.
"Shall I tell them I am afraid because of the election? Shall I tell them that all day I have felt like a child masquerading as a man, scared of the boogeyman as i am scared of the fascist-like creature whose grasp is tightening and whose claws never cease, closing in on lives like a predator its prey? That I am a child scared of insignificance, of a fate I did not choose, of becoming a meaningless name among many, not of democracy falling but of not being the one who felled it?"
So to everyone celebrating the election, I'm glad that you're happy, truly I am. But I ask you to think of me and my friends, still children, most of us not quite old enough to even have our say in this country, as you laugh and rejoice and mock all of us who you defeated.
How many times must we cry, must we fall, must we watch each other die before enough will be enough?
Will it ever be enough?
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luvergirl-866 · 3 days ago
Text
something like love
part - 2
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
word count - 5.3k
c/w - language, slight angst if you squint, emetephobia warning
a/n - hi!! it’s odd for me to post two days in a row, so try not to get used to it! i just already had this written and wanted to share it so baddd. hope yall enjoy! also, this is unedited so once again, im begging, lmk if there’s any mistakes. and ofc tell me what you think!!
To be honest, Azzi hadn’t really known what to expect when they put their plan in motion. She and Paige had gone over the logistics, sure, but they’d only really skimmed over how they’d act in public, and whether they’d hold hands, and what kind of flirty things they’d say to each other. Azzi sort of regrets her decision to let Paige lead the way, because that makes her feel like she’s going into this blind, with no idea of how Paige is going to act when they’re together now. No idea of how things are going to change.
It is only the morning after their movie night, and here is what Azzi has learned so far:
For one, Paige doesn’t actually seem to be that big on hand-holding. The only time she held Azzi’s hand last night was when she led her to the doorway once the night was over, waving their joined hands goodbye to their friends.
Paige does, however, seem to be big on basically everything else.
Once the girls were done gushing and celebrating and asking (very invasive) questions, they’d all decided on some horror movie they’d seen the trailer for. Azzi hates horror movies and she guesses this is probably the reason why Paige advocated so hard to watch one. Because as soon as they turned the lights off and the scary intro music started, Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her flush against her side. They stayed this way for around ten minutes before Paige claimed she had to use the restroom, but before she left, she kissed Azzi’s head and mumbled, “Don’t get too scared while I’m gone, baby,” into her ear. Azzi had swallowed thickly and nodded, and pretended not to notice Jana wiggling her eyebrows at her.
When the first real jumpscare happened, and Azzi screamed along with a few of the other girls, Paige chuckled quietly and leaned down to whisper, “You’re such a baby about this kinda stuff, Az.” Azzi had reacted how she normally would, slapping Paige on the arm and rolling her eyes, defending herself with a, “Shut up, I know you’re scared, too.” But what wasn’t normal was the way Paige fondly shook her head and nuzzled her cheek with her nose before pressing a kiss there, and then leaned back up to pull Azzi into her side once more, this time protectively. Azzi swore she could hear her own heart racing for a solid five minutes afterwards. It didn’t help that KK had looked back at them and said, “Aw, y’all grossing me out with how cute you are,” before turning back to the movie. Paige had snickered. Azzi had taken a deep breath, which did nothing to help with her composure.
Almost an hour into the movie, Paige rested her hand on Azzi’s thigh and squeezed, and she didn’t give Azzi any time to tame the fire in her belly before leaning into her ear once more and whispering, “You’re so stiff. You gotta chill,” and so, tamping down the need to cross her legs, Azzi’d obeyed and leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder.
At some point or another, she must’ve fallen asleep there, because all she remembers after that is a gentle pressure on her shoulder, jostling her softly, and a voice from her dreams saying, “Az, it’s late, we gotta go. Time to wake up, baby,” and Azzi opened her eyes to find Paige sitting beside her, giving her this look that Azzi had only ever caught glimpses of, and it was so soft she had to shut her eyes again.
“Thought we were sleeping over,” Azzi mumbled, stretching and then turning onto her side, realizing vaguely that somebody must’ve thrown a blanket over her.
“Nah, I figured we better sleep in an actual bed tonight.” Paige stroked back a strand of Azzi’s hair with incredible tenderness before taking her by the waist and hefting her into a sitting position. “C’mon. I’ll take you to mine, okay?”
Azzi had nodded sleepily, and had let Paige say all their goodnights while she hung off her arm with lidded eyes. Even in her half-sleep state, she didn’t miss the way the girls elbowed each other and gave knowing glances.
Now, Azzi stares at Paige, who lays sleeping just next to her, hair all splayed out and mouth hanging open. Azzi smiles softly at her. She and Paige have slept in the same bed hundreds—maybe thousands—of times, but this is different, because Azzi is allowing herself to pretend that it is. She imagines reaching out and waking Paige the same way Paige woke her last night, gently and lovingly, and then sharing a lazy morning together as a couple where they joke about morning breath and talk about their plans and hold each other.
But Paige grumbles, then shifts and blinks her eyes open, rubbing them a little before finding Azzi laying next to her. She smiles, but it’s not the same smile from last night—it’s not that tender, adoring smile, but rather the one Azzi is used to—the wide, toothy, beautiful but friendly one. “Oh, hey. Morning.”
“Morning,” Azzi mumbles, her indulgent fantasy broken, and she reminds herself just how careful she’ll have to be while she and Paige are doing this. She cannot allow herself too many delusions, cannot let her imagination run wild with the idea that their act is real. She cannot let herself get burned by this.
“You kept stealing the blankets last night.”
Azzi lies onto her back to avoid eye contact, staring up at the ceiling. “No, Paige, you were taking up the entire bed.”
“Cap,” Paige says, shoving her shoulder. Rough, friendly. Sisterly.
It’s silent for a second and then Paige turns onto her side. “Hey.” Azzi can feel her eyes burning into the side of her head. “We did pretty good last night, yeah? We seemed super in love and shit?”
Azzi doesn’t chance a glance over, staring stubbornly at the ceiling. “Yeah, P,” she agrees. “We did.”
——————————————
Finals come far too fast.
The last month of school is always hectic, and this year has been no different—Azzi’s spent the vast majority of her time studying, drinking her nostalgia away with friends, and then more studying on top of that.
Oh, and pretending to be in a committed relationship with Paige. That too.
Some days are easier than others—it’s not like they’re being forced to undress each other in front of an audience or anything. They haven’t even had to utilize pet names much. But it’s still
different. So different. Paige was touchy-feely with Azzi even before they started ‘dating’, so now, if they ever sit more than an inch apart or walk somewhere without wrapping their arms around each other, they get strange glances from their friends. A couple mornings ago, they were so hungover that they forgot about their whole act, and when they’d stumbled out of Paige’s room and began making breakfast without so much as a word to each other, KK had abrasively asked if their was ‘trouble in paradise’. Paige was all over her the rest of the day. After two weeks, Azzi is starting to get used to it.
At least they haven’t had to kiss. They haven’t even discussed it, and Azzi has been specifically avoiding that topic of conversation. She knows herself well enough to know that she can’t kiss her best friend and act normal about it.
Later, Azzi will curse herself for thinking this without knocking on wood after.
“So, we all know the rules of the game?”
“KK—“
“Girl, just answer the question!”
A pause, and then a bored chorus of yes’es.
“Yay!” With a big, tipsy smile on her face, KK places the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle.
Paige groans and rests her head on Azzi’s shoulder. “KK, this is so fuckin’ lame.”
“For real!” Ice says from a few spots down. “We’re not in middle school.”
KK waves them off. “Girl, boo. Y’all are the lame ones. This‘ll be so much fun, you’ll be thanking me after.”
Everyone starts to groan in response to this, but Caroline, ever the mom, speaks up. “C’mon, guys, just play KK’s game.”
Unable to really say no to Caroline, the group shuts up. KK smiles excitedly. “Now that’s what I like to hear! Thank you, Carol.”
Azzi brings her hand up to rest on Paige’s back, and she’s proud that it almost comes naturally now, like her body knows that’s just what it’s supposed to do.
Nika breaks the peace a moment later with another teasing comment, which prompts KK to yell at her, and then everyone is talking amongst themselves, the room buzzing with late-night, drunk-college-students-before-finals energy.
Paige sighs deeply into Azzi’s shoulder, and she loves that she’s the only one who can hear it, who can feel it against her skin.
Putting her lips to Paige’s hair, Azzi mutters, “Wanna go downstairs?”
Downstairs is where Paige’s dorm is. Azzi’s is the floor they’re on now, and it’d probably make more sense to sleep there for the night. But Paige’s dorm, and more specifically, her bedroom, is where they’ve been gravitating to the past couple weeks. Azzi has always loved it there, the smell of Paige filling the very air, photos of the two of them on her nightstand, purple bedding so very Paige. And now it’s become something of a sanctuary, a way to escape their facade which can become cumbersome.
Usually, they’d be in bed by now, because Azzi likes to sleep early and Paige hasn’t been wanting to stay up without her. But Paige shakes her head at the question.
“No?” Azzi asks. “You’re not tired?”
“Mm, nah.” Paige glances up at her. “You?”
Azzi licks her lips. She swears Paige’s eyes track the movement, and linger for just a moment too long. She clears her throat. “Same.”
“Aight,” Paige says, turning back to her shoulder. “We can leave after this, ma.”
“Hey, lovebirds,” KK says, barely giving Azzi any time to shudder at Paige’s nickname. “Pay attention. You’re going first.”
Everybody’s looking directly at Azzi, and she shakes her head awkwardly. “Oh, no, I don’t think—“
“If you don’t wanna play, you gotta take a shot every round.”
Paige lifts her head up. “KK, that’s dumb. She doesn’t have to play if she don’t want to.”
KK smiles deviously. Paige flips her off, but Azzi pulls her hand down, rolling her eyes. “Okay, whatever.” She leans over into the middle of the circle, making Paige lean off of her, and spins the beer bottle.
It spins only twice before slowing down and, blessedly, landing on Aubrey.
The girls make a range of noises, mostly giggles, and then Aubrey leans into the circle to meet Azzi in the middle, smiling.
Once she gets close enough, Azzi whispers, “Liyah good with this?”
Aubrey raises her eyebrows. “I’on think it’s my girl we gotta be worried about.”
Confused, Azzi glances over her shoulder, and sees Paige staring intensely at them, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The blank look on her usually lively face scares Azzi a little bit. She turns back to Aubrey, who also looks a little afraid.
“You’re good,” Azzi reassures her, because she is. Aubrey doesn’t know that Paige is just acting, because she’s the possessive type and of course, if she and Azzi were really dating, she’d be jealous even of her own teammates. But Azzi can’t tell Aubrey this, so instead, she leans forward and kisses her.
Aubrey lets out a noise, surprised, and it makes Azzi laugh because she probably should’ve warned her she was going in. The kiss can’t last more than two seconds before there’s a hand fisting Azzi’s shirt, pulling her back, and Paige is saying, “Alright, alright,” quite gruffly.
Azzi’s stomach does flips at Paige’s rough voice, but she’s tipsy (maybe a little bit more than tipsy) so she leans up to nuzzle Paige’s cheek rather than shying away from her. “Somebody’s jealous.”
“Yeah,” Paige says, “no one should be up on you like that.” And they’re obviously acting—but when Azzi pulls away to look at her, there’s something on her face that isn’t quite fake enough.
But then she’s smiling and saying, “Stop tryna steal my girl, Aubrey,” and Azzi’s heart contracts like it always does when Paige says stuff like this nowadays.
Across the circle, Aubrey takes her spin. It lands on Ice, and Ice is considerably more drunk than any of them, so the whole thing is pretty slobbery. The next spin—Nika—is mostly the same.
It goes like that for a while, a few people taking shots instead of kissing, and a few others taking shots for the hell of it. The bottle lands on Azzi once again and she fills her shot glass to the brim before taking it, needing to dull the feeling of Paige’s hand wrapped possessively around her waist.
By the time the bottle lands on Paige, they’re all pretty damn drunk.
Azzi knows it’s just a game, but she’s always hated seeing Paige with other people, and now is no different. Ashlynn laughs, because this whole thing is pretty fucking funny, but Azzi can’t help but sulk, glad to be under the guise of a relationship—glad she doesn’t have to hide her feelings for awhile.
Before leaning into the circle, Paige looks at Azzi and says, all lighthearted and buzzed, “Don’t pout at me, baby.”
There’s that roughness again, that tone in the back of her throat, and Azzi squirms when Paige presses a wet kiss to her cheek.
Paige and Ashlynn kiss, but they both laugh kind of hysterically so their teeth are pretty much just clashing, and when they’re done Paige wraps an arm around Azzi’s shoulders and spins for herself. And it spins, and spins, and spins, so many times Azzi gets dizzy watching it—
It gets to Amari, and it slows.
It passes by InĂȘs, barely moving anymore.
The neck gets back to Paige, and Azzi wonders for one drunk second, What if it lands on Paige and she has to kiss herself? and she doesn’t even have the time to laugh at how ridiculous that is before the bottle stops, pointing almost accusingly at her.
The girls all cheer, oohing and laughing.
Paige laughs too, easy and casual because they’re supposed to be a couple, they’re supposed to have done this a thousand times, it’s supposed to be normal, normal, Azzi, act normal.
They should have known this would be inevitable.
Paige turns to her, still smiling but with a concerned, almost imperceptible furrow between her brow. Azzi obviously can’t refuse this kiss, can’t take a shot rather than kiss her girlfriend in front of all these people who know she’s her girlfriend.
So instead, she wills herself to nod and then she takes Paige by the collar and kisses her.
Strangely enough, the first thing Azzi takes note of isn’t actually the way Paige’s lips feel touching hers for the first time, or the fact that their teammates are watching them, wolf-whistling and giggling amongst each other.
No, instead, it’s the way Paige smells—the fact that the hair tickling Azzi’s cheek is sweet, vanilla, which means she washed her hair today. And it’s the way her hands cup Azzi’s jaw, cradling her like they do this all the time, thumbs rubbing gently against her cheekbones in a gesture soft enough to make Azzi gasp into her mouth.
She only snaps into it and really realizes, oh, Paige is actually kissing me right now, when Paige’s tongue teases against Azzi’s bottom lip. And it’s just for a second, Paige pulling away fast enough that Azzi thinks she must have imagined it, but it leaves her lip wet.
After that, Paige sits back, smiling at her but there’s that furrow between her brow again, imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as Azzi does, and she’s stroking Azzi’s cheek like a tick now, like she’s trying to figure something out.
The moment ends when the girls all clap like white people on a plane, and Azzi isn’t even paying attention to the teasing and cooing, because she’s too busy staring at Paige, wondering what she’s thinking about right now, wondering what about that kiss made her feel so damn
safe.
Whenever she thought about her first kiss with Paige, she expected butterflies, light-headedness—maybe even nausea. Comfort, the thing you feel when you come home to your small town after a semester away—that was not expected.
Paige blinks, that strange look on her face disappearing, and Azzi realizes that she’s still holding onto the front of her shirt. She pushes her away teasingly, and Paige laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she turns to the girls, waving off their teasing remarks, and as Azzi watches her profile, feels the wetness on her bottom lip cool, she knows that she is falling and thinks nobody will be there to catch her when she reaches the bottom.
——————————————
The next morning, Azzi wakes up and immediately regrets it.
Paige’s window blanket must’ve fallen down last night, because the sun is shining through the room and it is
loud. She rolls onto her side to try and get away from it, and then that problem is fixed but another rises in the form of an abrupt tummyache. And Azzi prides herself on being a strong person, but as soon as she gets a tummyache it’s over for her.
Also, maybe the loud sun problem isn’t as fixed as she thought because her head is beginning to pound. She can feel it beating against her skull in time with the beating of her heart, and somehow that gives her a feeling akin to motion sickness, which makes her tummy hurt worse. She is probably going to throw up very soon, and should get up so she doesn’t do it all over Paige’s bed, but that’s where the third problem arises: she is so comfy. How can she ever be expected to leave this bed when she’s so goddamn comfy?
“Yo, are you gonna puke?”
Azzi groans. “Probably.”
Azzi’s facing away, so she can’t see what Paige’s doing, but she hears sheets rustle and then a pair of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Soon enough, Paige is standing in front of her, holding a hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
Azzi looks up, and that makes her stomach turn again, the back of her neck burning. “I don’t want to.”
“I’m gonna kill you if you puke on my bed. Like, actually.”
If Azzi threw up on Paige’s bed, Paige would probably usher her to the bathroom, give her some water, and clean the sheets without complaining about it until a few days later. But Azzi still doesn’t think that’d be a good idea, so she sits herself up and is about to accept Paige’s hand when she realizes this is much more urgent than she thought. Almost as soon as her feet hit solid ground, the bile rises in her throat at an alarming rate and she has to run across the hall. She doesn’t make it to the toilet but manages the bathtub, which is arguably better.
Paige is there once she’s done, tying her hair up into a ponytail. “That it?”
Azzi spits. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay. Lemme grab you some pepto or somethin’. Hang tight.”
Once Paige walks away, Azzi wipes her mouth and all at once, like the tide coming in, remembers how the lips now coated in spit and bile were yesterday on Paige’s.
Of course, she also remembers the pet names, the affection, the flash of jealousy in Paige’s eyes that may or may not have been there. But it’s the kiss, the wonderful, tipsy, warm kiss that wrestles its way to the forefront of her pounding head and stays there, the memory replaying quite a few times before Paige comes back with pepto bismol and water. “Here.”
Azzi looks disdainfully at the bright pink medicine. “I don’t think I can swallow that, P.”
“Whoa, pause.“
“Chill,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes. “Gimme that.” she takes them from Paige’s hand and manages to swallow one before throwing up again, this time with Paige by her side to hold onto her while her shoulders heave.
“Aw,” Paige tuts sympathetically when she’s done. “My lil lightweight.”
Azzi rests her head on the edge of the tub while Paige turns on the tap, washing the bile away.
Azzi lifts her head enough to see Paige sit against the wall across from her. “Feel okay now?”
Her throat burns, and her tummy hurts, and throwing up in front of the love of your life is not a glamorous experience. But with Paige here with her, taking care of her, she doesn’t feel too bad.
If it only weren’t for that really good fucking kiss.
Azzi nods weakly even though she doesn’t know the answer, because saying ‘I hate the fact that we kissed last night, not because I regret it—I’ve been wanting to do it since we were kids in high school—but because now I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my feelings hidden for much longer which is worrisome because we haven’t even left for Montana yet, and also I wonder what this means for us and our fake relationship, because if it means kissing will become a normal thing I don’t know if I can do this’ would probably be weird.
“K, good. Thanks for not puking in my bed.”
Azzi smiles weakly at her, mouth still tasting like bile. How could Paige ever return her feelings when she has seen her like this a hundred other times?
Paige reaches a socked toe out to nudge Azzi’s calf. “Okay, you said you feel better, but you still look kinda
green.”
Azzi looks Paige in the eye, and manages maybe a second of eye contact before she’s thinking about how they looked at each other just like this after they kissed last night, and there it goes, the moment playing in her head once and then again. She can’t help but groan and rest her burning cheek to the cool tub.
And the universe should go to hell for making them best friends because Paige gets it instantly. “Oh, this is about last night.”
Suddenly the cool tub isn’t helping anymore. Azzi weakly shakes her head, but she knows the truth is showing plainly on her face.
“Yeah, whatever.” Paige pushes herself off the wall, wiggling her eyebrows. Azzi senses trouble. “It was a good kiss, huh?”
Azzi balks, then tries to reel it in. “That’s not
Paige
”
“Hold up,” Paige says, looking genuinely a little confused. “You don’t think I’m a good kisser?”
“No, no, but I just
” how can Paige talk about this so casually, like it was meaningless, something to be joked about? Azzi envies her lack of feelings. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”
“Uh, I mean
” Paige scratches the side of her neck, and it occurs to Azzi that the bathroom isn’t an amazing place to talk about this. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”
Not exactly an encouraging answer. Azzi strives on nonetheless. “It was our first kiss.”
“Yeah. Guess we coulda planned it better.”
“Yeah, I guess
” Azzi trails off. “Don't you think it was sort of
weird?”
Paige frowns again. “Damn! If you didn’t like the kiss just say that.”
Azzi hopes she can blame her flushed cheeks on the hangover. “P, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re my best friend—“
“That’s me.” Paige smiles proudly. It’s too fucking cute.
“And,” Azzi says pointedly, “I feel like, weird, about kissing you.”
She waits for Paige to answer, but Paige just stares, apparently waiting for her, too. Azzi sighs. “I worry we won’t be able to fake it well enough.”
“We did fine last night, didn’t we?”
“We were drunk last night.”
Paige makes a face. “I guess. But I feel like we’d do good even if we were sober, y’know?” She leans her head back against the wall. “And it’s not like kissing’s a big deal, anyway.”
Azzi’s eyes drop down to the tiled floor, cold against the thin material of her sleep pants. “Maybe not to you,” she mumbles.
There’s a shuffling, and then Paige is closer than before, nudging Azzi’s knee with her own. “Yeah, you’re right, that’s my bad.” There’s a silence, both of them thinking, and Azzi wonders if maybe Paige is thinking the same thing she is. About how their kiss last night felt
different. Different than a kiss between two friends, different than the other kisses with other people felt. And the look Paige gave her afterward

But then Paige says, “Wanna practice, ma?” and Azzi was a fool to ever think they’d be on the same track.
Azzi splutters for a moment. “Practice?”
“Yeah. To prepare, in case we have to do it again,” Paige says casually, like it’s no big deal at all.
“I don’t think that’s
that’s not—“ Azzi cuts herself off on a sigh. Then she looks at Paige, really looks at her, and that’s when she catches the glint in Paige’s eyes, and she realizes—she’s messing with her. She’s taking advantage of Azzi’s obvious shyness about this whole thing.
What a little shithead.
Making a quick decision, Azzi leans forward a little bit, glancing down, then back up, looking at Paige through her lashes before she licks her lip.
Paige clocks it, tracks it with her eyes. Just like last night.
Azzi swallows down the nervousness and wills herself to be normal, reminds herself that this is Paige, and she has no reason to sink into her shell when she has the opportunity to take the upper hand.
“Okay,” Azzi says after a moment.
Paige’s eyes flit up, away from her lips. “Okay?”
Azzi nods, then lifts her hand to place over Paige’s knee, bare in her sleep shorts, before she dances her fingers delicately up her thigh. “You wanna practice kissing me, Paige?”
Paige swallows thickly. And then she nods.
Okay. So. That’s
unexpected.
Paige wants to kiss her.
That would explain the lip-ogling.
Azzi has half a mind to make the biggest mistake of her life and close the gap between them, but then she remembers they are sitting on the bathroom floor, and, ew, she just threw up. Twice.
Azzi manages what she hopes is a cocky smirk and leans away. “Well, too bad. Sick, remember?”
Paige’s eyes widen, like she’s just been snapped out of a trance. “Oh. Yeah.” She backs off then, relief coursing through Azzi, before she’s standing up and dusting off her shorts as she reaches down to help Azzi up. “You good to stand?”
Ok. So they’re not talking about it. Cool.
Azzi nods and takes Paige’s hand, her palm warm against her own as their fingers entangle for the two seconds it takes to go from sitting to standing, feeling a little dizzy from the altitude once she’s up.
Paige frowns at her. “You still look kinda messed up. How ‘bout you lay down. I can go get us some food? Gotta fuel up for all the studying today.”
Azzi groans, palming her face. “No, I forgot about finals.”
“Azzi Fudd? Forgetting about finals?” Paige teases, leading them out of the bathroom. “Last night really fucked you up, huh?”
“Yeah,” Azzi mumbles. “It was definitely the alcohol that did it.”
Paige glances back at her but doesn’t say anything, sitting Azzi down on the edge of the bed once they get there. “Okay, sit here and chill out. Lemme know if you need to puke again.” She smiles down at her, and Azzi smiles weakly back, before the older girl is turning on her heel and walking out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Another door opens somewhere down the hall and then one of the girls’ voices mixes in with Paige’s as the roommates converse too quietly for Azzi to really hear. She sighs and flops down on the bed, hands wringing nervously at her stomach as she stares at the ceiling.
She has really gotten herself into some shit this time.
Her phone starts buzzing from its place on the nightstand, and Azzi straightens up to check it, her mother’s face flashing on the screen. Anxiety coils in Azzi’s belly at the sight of her mother’s contact, which usually brings her so much comfort.
Ever since she and Paige ‘came out’ to their friends, Azzi has been avoiding her mother like the plague. She knows she should just come out and tell Katie, but she’s not sure what she should tell her.
Azzi knows that Katie would disapprove if she found out about their little scheme, the woman avidly against lying. But if Azzi were to tell Katie what they’ve been telling everyone else—that they are a disgustingly happy, perfectly real couple—she’d be lying to her mother. And with Katie being her main confidante throughout her entire life, Azzi’s never really been good at that. She hasn’t gotten enough practice.
Not without guilt, Azzi lets it go to voicemail, holding her phone close to her chest afterwards, lying back down. She feels nauseous again at just the thought of lying to her mom. But if she came clean, would Katie make her feel guilty about it? Urge her to tell the truth, even if it meant not helping Paige like she promised she would?
Just as Azzi’s about to head back to the bathroom, Paige comes to the bedroom, leaning through the doorframe. “Toast’s almost done, Az.”
Azzi nods but doesn’t move. Paige lingers, sensing that Azzi’s going to say something.
Finally, after some internal debate, Azzi says, “What do you think I should tell my mom?”
Paige frowns. “I thought you talked to her already.”
Azzi shrugs. “We haven’t called. I’ve been avoiding her, but I feel bad about it.”
Paige bites her lip like she always does when she’s thinking, and it eases some of the tension out of Azzi’s shoulders, softening her around the edges. She leans against the doorframe, looking right at Azzi. “Well, what do you wanna do?”
Azzi shrugs helplessly.
Paige scrunches her nose (very cutely) and says, “Honestly, I don’t think we should tell her. Not yet, at least.”
Azzi heaves out a breath, not liking the sound of that answer. “You think?”
“Yeah. Have you met your mom?” Paige smiles fondly. “Lady can’t keep a secret for shit.”
“You’re right.” Azzi hadn’t thought of that, the fact her mom’s the town gossip. “She’d probably have the truth out before we could even finish telling her.”
Paige nods in agreement. “Exactly. Plus, it’s easier to tell everyone the same story, right?”
“I guess.” Unsteady, Azzi pushes herself up from the bed, walking over to Paige slowly. “You still sure this is a good idea?”
“Even if I wasn’t,” Paige says, “we’re too deep in it now.”
Azzi looks up at her solemnly. “The point of no return.”
“Uh-huh.” Paige sighs out a breath, looking almost regretfully at the girl in front of her. “Sorry again, about asking you to do this. I know it’s kinda a whole thing now.”
Azzi’s shaking her head before Paige can even finish. “I already told you, it’s fine. We go to Montana soon, and before we know it we’ll be done.” Azzi’s stomach sort of sinks at the thought. No more flirting, no more cheek-kissing, no more Paige protectively slinging an arm around her shoulder while they’re in public like she’s telling everyone Azzi’s her’s.
Azzi manages what she hopes is an optimistic smile anyway. “Let’s go eat breakfast. And then I’ll call my mom back and we can tell her together?”
Almost as if reading her mind, Paige easily wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as she leads her down the hallway. “Alright, ma. Sounds good to me.”
@smiths-fan--13 @ch12334
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