#I think it's very funny that they made this mistake because it's a fail in every way and I've never laughed so hard at such as small detail

[ahalliance]

vi arcane is making me see the naked but bandaged chest potential and i may be making adjustments to my post code death qetoiles design

[lettiegrief]

It's ironic to me that part of the fandom insists so much that Hua Cheng's personality revolves around Xie Lian when in fact MXTX created Hua Cheng first and then had to make Xie Lian his ideal type. Like, the truth is that Xie Lian was molded for Hua Cheng. I find this contradiction very funny, I'm sorry.

But they were indeed created for each other.

Hua Cheng has a strong personality, he is firm in his ideals and beliefs, assertive in his opinions, cold in his justice and someone who does not bend the rules just to fit in, he creates a third way instead of adapting to a world that hates him and was cruel to him.

His ideal type would have to be someone as confident as him, who not only does not bend the rules, but also does not get corrupted by difficulties, someone benevolent enough to see people like him with kindness, because only someone faithful in his beliefs would be able to be so different from everything that the world says is right — because the right thing is for you to annihilate people like Hua Cheng, whether they are innocent or not, just because of a supposed curse that they did not ask for.

This meta is based on this excerpt from the afterword that MXTX put in TGCF ↓

When it comes to character designs, the Shou’s were decided on first for the first two novels, but I was torn over the Gong’s for a long time, and needed a run-in period. Hua Cheng, however, was an exception. Inspiration struck and there he was; inspiration struck again, and I blinded one of his eyes.

[...]

It was actually the Shou, Xie Lian, who tortured me for up to half a year’s time. When the novel started serializing, I was still torn over him for a long time.

[...]

But the most important thing is, by my instincts, someone like Hua Cheng will most definitely love someone like this. So, after a good half a year’s worth of qualms, in the end I still typesetted him: It’s you!

Speaking more about this postscript, I found it interesting how for MXTX, Xie Lian was the most difficult character she has ever played. People tend to think that Xie Lian only has two personality traits: (false, for many) kindness and idiocy. The idiocy may even be right lol, but when you stop to think about it, Xie Lian is a really difficult character to create and, mainly, to develop.

For all the layers he has, he could easily be a snobbish prince, a vengeful and bitter ex-prince, a fallen prince who rises again to reconquer his kingdom and reclaim his throne or a spotless saint who is always intelligent and wise and is above things like sadness, anger, lust, etc.

We know that Xie Lian is none of these things, he was not made for these plots. But if he is none of these things, then what could he be? Honestly, I find it very difficult for anyone to come to the conclusion that your protagonist is a "loser" who failed and has no ambition to rebuild his kingdom and become the new king. It's bold to make your protagonist a poor and extremely unlucky nomad, especially with the princely background that you gave him, we can see from the amount of stories out there about protagonists who lost their kingdoms and then have a path of reconquest that it's difficult not to be tempted to follow that path.

Of course, Xie Lian is a god, something greater than a prince or king, but he is a poor god, known as "the joke of the three kingdoms", he has no wealth and for 800 years he only had 1 believer that he didn't even know existed and he is also known as the "god of plague" and "immortal scrap collector", unconventional titles in the literary world lol

He must experience youthful ignorance, overestimation of his own abilities, have been laughable, been foolish, made mistakes, despaired, felt hatred, gone crazy. But he can’t run, and he can’t hide; everything is what it is. All this was killing me. Not just within the text, but outside the text too. My mediation was useless, and I’ve no energy anymore either, so in order not to be affected, I stopped looking at comments altogether. Since I always habitually vaccinate myself before a serialization begins, speculating on all the worst possible scenarios and preparing myself mentally, by the time serialization started I had already expected how all the negative comments would go down. But after much hesitation, I still thought, why not try all different kinds of characters? I haven’t tried writing a main character like this before.

— MXTX

[rosemariiaa]

~Off the Rails (And into my Head) pt2~

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— w/c: 9.4k (i think)

𐙚— rosie’s note: hi there, after my little crashout we finally got it! not all they proofread but wtv, happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚— themes: fluff, language

By now, Azzi is convinced Paige is doing this on purpose.

Because no one—not even the most scatterbrained, forgetful, reckless person on the planet—could possibly get locked out of their hotel room four times in two weeks without some level of intention.

Right?

She doesn’t want to sound cocky, but at a certain point, she has to wonder—is this really just Paige being dumb, or is she actually doing this to see me?

The first time, Azzi gave her the benefit of the doubt. Mistakes happen. People forget their keycards. No big deal.

The second time, it was kind of funny. Paige had banged on Azzi’s door, looking like a very inconvenienced golden retriever, grumbling about how she definitely left her key on the nightstand.

The third time? Suspicious.

And now, standing in the hallway yet again, watching Paige attempt (and fail) to sweet-talk the front desk into giving her a new key without ID, Azzi is starting to think this is a pattern.

“You know they’re not gonna let you in unless you have ID,” she says, arms crossed.

Paige leans against the counter, turning on the charm. “Come on, man. We’ve done this before.”

The employee—same guy from last time, looking thoroughly unimpressed—gives her a blank stare. “Yeah. We have. Which is why you should know I can’t give you a key without ID.”

Paige sighs, spinning to face Azzi like she’s personally offended. “You hear this? They don’t trust me.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “Because you literally could be an intruder.”

Paige scoffs. “Do I look like an intruder?”

Azzi takes in her oversized hoodie, messy bun, and sock-covered feet—because, of course, Paige didn’t even put on shoes before locking herself out. Again.

“…You look like someone who doesn’t deserve to get let back into their room.”

Paige gasps, audibly. “Wow. And I thought we were friends.”

Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t bother hiding her smile. “I’ll go get my key.”

But before she can turn, Paige is already leaning dramatically over the counter, pleading her case.

Paige leans on the hotel counter, exasperated. “Kevin, I’ll give you my full name, room number—whatever you need.”

Kevin doesn’t blink. “Still need ID.”

Paige groans. “Kevin, you’re killing me.”

“Not my problem.”

Azzi snorts, clearly enjoying the show.

Paige sighs. “Come on, you know me. I’m practically on payroll at this point.”

Kevin just raises an eyebrow. “Or you could stop forgetting your key.”

Azzi covers her mouth to muffle a laugh.

Paige turns to her. “Alright, hypothetically, I’m a paying guest, right?”

Kevin deadpans, “You are a guest.”

“So, shouldn’t I get customer service?”

Azzi actually laughs now.

Kevin stays unimpressed. “Customer service doesn’t mean breaking hotel policy.”

Paige throws herself onto the counter like a child. “You are so dramatic, Kevin.”

Kevin shrugs.

Azzi, amused but knowing this could go on forever, steps in. “Kevin,” she says, sweet and polite. “I totally understand if you can’t, but I’d really appreciate it if you made an exception.”

Kevin hesitates.

Azzi tilts her head, smiling.

Kevin sighs, already caving. “Fine. Just this once.”

Paige snatches the key before Azzi can grab it. “Wow. So all it takes is her asking? Unreal.”

Kevin shrugs. “She asked nicely.”

Paige’s eye twitches. “I asked nicely!”

Azzi laughs. “No, you didn’t.”

Paige huffs, dragging Azzi away by the wrist.

Azzi stumbles after her, grinning. “Aw are you jealous right now?”

Paige scoffs. “No. I’m offended.”

“Same thing.”

Back at Paige’s room, she grumbles under her breath, keycard clenched in her fist like a personal insult.

Azzi shakes her head, still entertained. “I barely even asked.”

Paige scoffs. “Barely asked? Please. You could get someone’s social security number with that voice.”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “It’s called being polite.”

“I was polite.”

Azzi gives her a look.

Paige throws a hand up. “I said ‘come on, man,’ I used his name, I even recited my room number! I was the definition of polite.”

Azzi hums, unconvinced.

Paige glares. “Don’t ‘hmm’ me. You smiled, and Kevin folded in three seconds.”

Azzi smirks.

Paige scowls. “Wipe that look off your face.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re smug.”

Azzi grins. “Well, I did get you a free key.”

Paige narrows her eyes. “I don’t need your charity.”

Azzi teases, “Should I go back and tell Kevin I changed my mind?”

Paige shoves the key deeper into her pocket. “Don’t you dare.”

Azzi laughs as Paige jams the key into the slot harder than necessary.

Green light.

Paige throws the door open. “Finally.”

Inside, Paige flops onto the bed dramatically.

Azzi perches on the edge. “So… you wanna admit you did this on purpose, or should we pretend you’re just that forgetful?”

Paige groans into the comforter. “I wish I was smart enough to plan this.”

Azzi chuckles. “At least you admit it.”

Paige peeks at her through her fingers. “You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Paige groans again.

Azzi nudges her. “Look on the bright side. You’re inside now.”

Paige squints. “Wait… what’s the bright side?”

Azzi gives her a look. “That you’re not locked out?”

Paige blinks. “Huh. Never thought about it that way.”

Azzi shakes her head, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

Paige smirks. “You still like me.”

Azzi stills for half a second.

Paige doesn’t notice.

But Azzi does.

Because liking Paige is too easy.

She swallows the thought, rolling her eyes instead. “You wish.”

Paige grins. “I know.”

Azzi stands. “Come on, let’s make the sushi before you lock yourself out again.”

Paige groans. “Ugh, fine.”

Azzi heads toward the tiny kitchen space as Paige pulls herself up, watching her go.

Azzi washes her hands first. Paige doesn’t, and Azzi gives her a pointed look until she does.

It’s a small thing, but Paige kind of likes it—how Azzi just expects her to listen, to follow her lead. Like she already knows Paige will.

Azzi is focused as she reads the instructions, brows drawn in concentration, lower lip slightly tucked between her teeth. Paige should be paying attention, but instead, she leans against the counter, watching Azzi’s mouth move as she murmurs something about the rice.

She’s always been good at picking things up quickly—on the court, in school, in life—but standing here, watching Azzi prep sushi like it’s an art, Paige feels totally out of her element.

“This is the easy part,” Azzi says, rinsing the rice before setting it on the stove.

Paige hums, pretending to listen, but really, she’s still caught up in her own thoughts.

It’s almost funny.

Paige never stops talking—never has, never will—but right now, she doesn’t want to.

She just wants to watch.

The way Azzi moves, the way her hands glide effortlessly as she preps the cutting board, the way she hums lightly under her breath, completely at ease.

Paige has known her for—what, two weeks now? Three? She should not be this mesmerized.

And yet, here she is.

She hears Azzi sigh and snaps out of it.

“Are you even paying attention?” Azzi asks, exasperated but amused.

Paige grins, rubbing the back of her neck. “Define ‘paying attention’.”

Azzi shakes her head, grabbing the bamboo mat and placing it in front of Paige. “Here. You’re rolling first.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “You trust me with this?”

Azzi considers for a moment. “Not really, but I think you should suffer a little before I show you how to really do it.”

Paige gasps dramatically. “Wow. So rude.”

Azzi grins. “I’m just being honest.”

Paige narrows her eyes, pointing at her. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe a little.”

Paige watches as Azzi spoons the rice onto the nori, smoothing it out with the back of the spoon like she’s done this a million times before.

Paige, on the other hand, is struggling.

Her rice sticks to her fingers, clumping in the most unforgivable way.

Azzi laughs. “Wet your hands first.”

Paige scowls, but does as she’s told. “You could’ve told me that before I embarrassed myself.”

Azzi grins, still not missing a beat. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Paige huffs and turns back to her roll, looking more like a disaster than a sushi chef. Her eyes keep darting to Azzi, who’s smoothly making her own roll with grace—just another moment of Paige feeling out of her depth.

But there’s something about the way Azzi moves, how at ease she is in this kitchen, that makes Paige want to keep looking.

Azzi picks up a cucumber, cutting it with swift precision. Paige notices the way the light catches her hair, the soft curls falling into place, how her eyes flick between the food and the knife, like she’s at peace.

It’s a little… distracting.

Paige feels a warmth in her chest she can’t quite place, a soft tug that she pretends not to notice.

“Okay, now roll it,” Azzi says, gesturing to Paige’s half-made roll.

Paige grabs the bamboo mat and hesitates. She tries to roll, but the thing unravels in her hands.

Azzi snickers, but it’s not mean—it’s light, like she’s amused at Paige’s stubbornness.

Paige glares. “Stop laughing and help.”

Azzi leans over, hands brushing against Paige’s as she fixes the mess Paige made. Paige freezes, feeling the heat in her face, her heartbeat quickening at the accidental touch.

But Azzi doesn’t notice.

Or maybe she does.

Because when she looks up, she lingers.

There’s something in the air then. It’s almost like time slows, the space between them filling with an almost magnetic tension. Paige feels her breath catch for a second, and she wonders if Azzi notices too.

And then, like nothing’s changed, Azzi smirks, tilting her head. “You make the easiest things so hard, piece of cake.”

Paige lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

She steps back, letting Azzi work, and leans against the counter again, arms crossed.

She should be annoyed.

She should be focused.

But all she can think about is how Azzi looks when she’s in her element—calm and beautiful.

Paige should be keeping track of the roll. She should be keeping track of the task at hand. But as Azzi continues to move, Paige can’t tear her eyes away from the other woman.

Azzi flicks a strand of hair from her face as she continues assembling, making the final adjustments to Paige’s half-made sushi with delicate, practiced hands.

Paige doesn’t want to admit it—but she is mesmerized by Azzi’s quiet focus.

By how patient she is.

It’s a strange thing for Paige—because she’s never been one to wait, especially when it comes to something she wants. But there’s something about Azzi’s calmness, the way she doesn’t rush anything, that makes Paige want to sit back and let it happen.

She watches, intently, as Azzi finishes rolling, securing it with a delicate press of the bamboo mat.

“And done,” Azzi says, placing the sushi in front of Paige with a soft smile.

Paige feels herself smile back, though there’s a quiet ache behind it.

She’s a mess. She’s never been this stuck on someone before. And maybe Azzi doesn’t even know it. Maybe Azzi doesn’t even feel it. But Paige knows. She can feel it in the air between them, the quiet moments where their eyes meet.

It lingers—thick and unspoken.

Paige is still standing close, her hands resting idly against the counter, but she’s not really thinking about the sushi anymore. Not even a little.

Azzi’s eyes stay on hers for a second longer than normal, and Paige is convinced she feels it too. The shift. The weight of something unspoken pressing between them.

Then, just as quickly, Azzi looks away.

Her gaze flickers to the food, then the living room, like she needs something else to focus on. “Should we go eat now?”

Paige blinks, snapping out of her thoughts—or the trance Azzi had her in, she thinks—and forces a nod.

“Yeah,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, let’s—uh—should we put on a movie or something?”

Azzi glances at her, then shrugs, casual. “Sure.”

They grab their plates and settle onto the couch, Azzi tucking her legs beneath her while Paige scrolls through the options on the screen.

It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound coming from the faint clicks of the remote. Paige hesitates for a second before casually tossing out, “You ever seen Frozen?”

She already knows the answer.

Azzi’s head snaps toward her, eyes lighting up in a way that makes Paige’s stomach flip.

“Duh,” Azzi says. “It’s my favorite.”

Paige smirks, feigning surprise. “No way. Really?”

Azzi narrows her eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know that.”

Paige laughs, clicking on the movie. “Yeah, okay, maybe I did.”

The opening scene starts playing, and Paige watches from the corner of her eye as Azzi settles in, eyes locked on the screen like she’s seeing it for the first time.

Paige leans back, casually draping her arm along the back of the couch—not around Azzi, but close enough. She waits a few seconds, then shifts just a little closer.

Azzi doesn’t move away.

Paige tells herself it’s fine. Normal. Two people sitting on a couch watching a movie.

Except it isn’t normal.

Not when Paige is hyperaware of every tiny movement Azzi makes. Not when she can hear Azzi murmuring along to some of the lines, her voice softer than the actual dialogue.

Not when her own pulse is way too loud in her ears.

It’s nothing.

But it’s also everything.

Paige’s fingers drum lightly against the cushion, her mind racing with thoughts she’s not sure she should be having. She focuses on the screen, but really, she’s more focused on her—on the way Azzi’s expression changes slightly during each scene, how her lips curve upward whenever Olaf appears, how she instinctively tugs the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers when she gets comfortable.

And okay, maybe Paige lets herself stare a little too long.

Because suddenly, Azzi turns to look at her, catching her mid-stare.

Busted.

Paige barely has time to react before Azzi’s eyes flicker to her arm—still resting along the back of the couch, inches from her shoulders. Paige swears there’s a flicker of amusement in her gaze before Azzi looks back at the screen, like she’s choosing not to acknowledge it.

Paige clears her throat, shifting slightly.

She tells herself to relax, to focus on the movie, but then Azzi moves again—this time leaning in just enough that their arms brush, soft and warm.

It’s a tiny thing.

But it sends Paige’s brain into full meltdown mode.

Because suddenly, all she can think about is how easy it would be to just—do something.

To close the space. To see if Azzi would lean into her the way Paige thinks she might.

The thought alone is dangerous.

And then, as if to make things even worse, Azzi hums along to Let It Go, her voice quiet, absentminded.

Paige groans internally, tilting her head back against the couch.

She’s so, so screwed.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

It’s not just that she met Azzi a few weeks ago. It’s that in those few weeks, she’s done things she wouldn’t normally do. She doesn’t get attached like this. She doesn’t make an effort like this.

And yet, here she was—driving Azzi to her first photoshoot before they even really knew each other, going to bookstores with her like it’s their thing, memorizing the way Azzi takes her coffee without realizing it.

Azzi had laughed when she first noticed.

“You remember my order?” she’d asked, watching as Paige handed her the cup.

Paige had shrugged, playing it off. “You act like you’re complicated. Black coffee with a splash of oat milk. Not exactly rocket science.”

Azzi had just hummed, smiling behind the rim of the cup before taking a sip. And Paige? Yeah, she’d definitely looked away too fast, heart knocking against her ribs.

It’s weird. Paige doesn’t do relationships like this. She’s had flings, sure—casual, easy, nothing that lingers. But this? Wanting to sit next to someone every time they’re in the same room? Wanting to hold them or just be in their space? She doesn’t know what to do with that.

Maybe that’s why Azzi’s here. Maybe because she doesn’t make Paige feel like she has to be anyone but herself. Maybe because she listens, really listens, even when Paige is rambling about why cereal should be considered a soup.

“Think about it,” Paige had argued one night, sitting cross-legged on Azzi’s couch. “It’s literally food floating in liquid. That’s soup.”

Azzi had just given her a look, unimpressed. “You know I’m never gonna agree with you on this, right?”

“That’s because you’re wrong,” Paige shot back, grinning.

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further. Instead, she let Paige keep talking, nodding like she was genuinely considering the ridiculous debate.

And when Paige got too carried away, Azzi had just pressed a finger to her lips.

“Shhh.”

It wasn’t mocking or impatient. It was soft. Playful. And Paige? Yeah, she short-circuited immediately, brain going blank as she just stared.

Azzi had smirked, dropping her hand, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Paige had barely recovered from that, and now here they are—sitting on Paige’s couch again, watching some movie Paige is definitely not paying attention to.

They’re close, closer than usual, and every time Azzi shifts slightly, Paige feels it. The warmth of her, the brush of her knee against Paige’s.

Her hand twitches against her thigh. She clenches her fingers, trying to get her brain to chill. But then, before she even realizes it, the words slip out.

“You’re really pretty.”

Azzi blinks, turning her head toward her. Paige realizes immediately what she just said.

“Oh,” Paige blurts, eyes widening slightly. “Uh—”

Azzi doesn’t look away. Instead, a slow, knowing smirk spreads across her lips.

“You just now realizing that?”

Paige opens her mouth, then closes it. She runs a hand through her hair like that’ll somehow make her feel less like a total idiot.

“I mean, no—obviously,” she says, forcing a laugh. “I just—wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

Azzi hums, her expression unreadable, but Paige swears she sees something shift in her eyes.

“Guess I should say thanks, then.”

Paige lets out a weak chuckle. “I mean, you could…”

Azzi’s gaze lingers for another second before she turns back toward the screen, but the air is different now. Charged.

Paige’s fingers twitch before she lets herself reach out, resting her hand lightly against Azzi’s knee.

Azzi doesn’t move away.

Paige’s stomach flips.

She hesitates, throat suddenly dry, before speaking. Her voice is quieter than usual, softer. “Is this okay?”

Azzi glances down at Paige’s hand, then meets her eyes again. Her expression stays unreadable for a beat too long, but then she nods.

Paige swallows, nerves buzzing under her skin.

They’re closer now—so close that Paige can feel Azzi’s breath against her lips.

Azzi shifts slightly, just a fraction of an inch, and suddenly their noses brush. Paige’s pulse stutters.

She should say something. She should—

Azzi’s fingers brush over the back of her hand, light, barely there, but Paige feels it everywhere.

The moment stretches—

And then.

Knock knock knock.

Paige freezes.

She groans as the knocking gets louder, dragging a hand down her face.

Azzi leans back into the couch, barely glancing away from the blondes face as she smirks. “I think someone wants your attention.”

Paige groans again, dramatically letting her head fall against Azzi’s shoulder. “Or, hear me out—I just don’t answer.”

Azzi pats her knee, voice light. “You should probably get that.”

The knocking persists.

Azzi raises an eyebrow, and Paige sighs heavily before finally forcing herself up, trudging to the door. Instead of opening it all the way, she cracks it just enough for her head to peek out.

KK and Caroline stand on the other side, both looking unimpressed.

“Finally,” KK huffed. “Took you long enough, bro.”

Paige blinked, eyes still adjusting. “What are you guys doing here?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Paige.”

KK gasped dramatically. “No way. Nooo way. You forgot, didn’t you?”

Paige frowned. “Forgot what?”

KK reeled back, clutching her chest. “She forgot we were coming. After we planned this like a month ago. Ridiculous. The memory of a goldfish.”

Caroline sighed, shaking her head. “I texted you this morning.”

Paige blinked. There was a vague recollection of a text she’d skimmed and ignored, but her brain had been… preoccupied. Not with basketball, not with film, not even with herself. She glanced back over her shoulder at the couch, where Azzi was still watching the movie, blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding at the door.

Caroline crosses her arms. “Are you gonna let us in, or…?”

Paige hesitates, then shifts awkwardly in the doorway. “Uhhh…”

KK narrows her eyes. “Why you actin’ weird?”

“I’m not acting weird,” Paige says way too fast.

Paige turned back, lowering her voice. “Look, I’m kinda busy right now.”

KK squinted at her. “Busy?”

Caroline tilted her head. “Busy doing what?”

Paige shifted in place. “Just… chilling. Watching a movie.”

KK crossed her arms. “You never turn down a hangout to ‘chill.’ Who’s in there?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Why does it matter?”

KK’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh. You’re hiding something.”

Caroline smirked. “Or someone.”

Paige groaned. “Oh my god.”

KK grinned. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

“No—” Paige stopped herself. “I mean, yes, but—” She exhaled sharply. “Look, just don’t be weird, okay?”

KK and Caroline exchanged glances before KK leaned in. “Who is she?”

Paige groans dramatically, dragging a hand down her face again. “Okay, first of all, y’all weren’t supposed to come today.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “We talked about this a month ago, Paige.”

Paige huffs. “Yeah, well, things have happened since then.”

KK tilts her head. “Like?”

Paige scratches the back of her head. “Like… like stuff.”

KK makes a face. “Damn. She’s lost it.”

Caroline sighs, already exhausted. “Paige, just let us in.”

Paige winces. “I will, I will, but like… just—be chill, okay? And you can’t be too loud.”

KK scoffs. “Since when do you care about being loud?”

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s not for me, dumbass. 

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s not for me, dumbass. It’s for—” She stops herself, then exhales sharply. “Look, just… just keep your voices down, alright? And also, don’t, like, bombardher with questions, okay? She gets overstimulated real fast.”

KK’s eyebrows shoot up. “Her?”

Caroline gives Paige a look.

Paige realizes her mistake a second too late.

KK grins. “Nooo way.”

Paige groans. “Shut up.”

KK whistles. “Ain’t no way. P Boogers got a girl?”

Paige hushes her immediately. “Shut up.”

KK grins. “Ohhh this is huge.”

Caroline sighs. “Paige, just let us in.”

“I will, but be cool. The coolest ever.”

KK smirks. “I am cool.”

“No, you’re annoying.”

KK ignores that. “So who’s in there?”

Paige shifts on her feet. “She wasn’t expecting company. And don’t interrogate her, okay? She gets overwhelmed sometimes.”

KK stares. Paige rambles.

“She’s indecisive as hell—almost cried picking between pancakes and waffles. And she likes quiet, so please—don’t be loud.”

KK and Caroline exchange looks.

Caroline smirks. “Paaaiiigeee.”

Paige frowns. “What?”

KK grins. “You like her.”

Paige stiffens. “Mind your business.”

KK’s grin widens. “P BOOGERS HAS A GIRLFRIEND. Ohhh brother. I thought you were asexual or something.”

Paige slaps a hand over her mouth. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

KK smirks. “Then why do you know her whole life story?”

Paige groans. “I hate you.”

Caroline nods. “She’s got a point.”

Before Paige can respond—

“Paige?”

They all freeze.

Azzi peeks through the door, blinking curiously. “Is everything okay?”

Paige steps in front of KK. “Yeah! Everything’s great.”

KK grins. Paige glares.

Azzi glances between them. “Who are you talking to?”

KK steps around Paige, eyes Azzi up and down. “Ohhh, so this is what had you acting weird.”

Paige sighs. “KK, please—”

Caroline, ever polite, extends a hand. “Hi, I’m Caroline. Nice to meet you.”

Azzi hesitates, then shakes it. “I’m Azzi.”

Caroline nods. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Azzi frowns. “You have?”

KK grins. “Yeah, but not from you—from lover girl over here.” She gestures at Paige, who turns bright red.

Azzi looks at Paige in surprise. Paige stammers, “I—I don’t—”

KK cackles. “Girl, you just gave us her whole biography.”

Paige groans, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fuck me.”

Azzi, amused, watches Paige internally combust.

Paige sighs, stepping aside. “I guess y’all can come in.”

KK skips inside. “Aw, P Boogers, you’re so sweet.”

Paige groans, dropping her head into her hands.

They settle in. KK immediately snoops. “Okay, P, I see you! But damn, you still got them big-ass feet.”

Paige glares. “Put my shoe down before I make you eat it.”

Caroline eyes Frozen playing on the TV. “Frozen?” She looks at Azzi. “Your pick?”

Azzi nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite.”

KK smirks. “Interesting. ‘Cause last I checked, P Boogers doesn’t sit through Disney movies for just anybody.”

Paige shoots her a look. “Shut up, KK.”

Azzi, still amused, leans in. “So… lover girl?”

Paige stiffens. “Azzi.”

Azzi smiles. “I was wondering why you hesitated letting them in. Now it makes sense.”

Paige groans. “KK exaggerates everything.”

Azzi hums. “So you didn’t recite my biography five seconds ago?”

Paige presses her lips together.

Azzi raises an eyebrow.

Paige sighs. “I maybe said a few things.”

Azzi grins. “A few?”

Paige groans. “Kill me now.”

Before Azzi can respond, KK plops onto the couch—right in Paige’s spot.

Paige blinks. “Hey—”

KK stretches. “Sooo, Azzi, how do you know P?”

Azzi barely has time to answer before Paige taps her shoulder.

“Get up.”

KK feigns innocence. “Uh… why?”

Paige gestures. “That’s my seat.”

KK leans back. “Nah, I’m comfy. You can sit by Caroline.”

Paige narrows her eyes. “Move.”

“Nope.”

Paige turns to Azzi. “Tell her to move.”

Azzi opens her mouth, but KK cuts in. “Damn, P, no patience. Lemme have a turn with Azzi”

Paige doesn’t respond—just kicks KK’s shin.

KK yelps. “Ow! You violent-ass—”

Paige immediately drops onto the couch, reclaiming her spot.

KK glares. “Oh, we’re playing dirty now?”

Paige smirks, arm draped over the back of the couch. “I told you to move.”

Azzi watches, amused. “Really?”

Paige shrugs. “What? I told her to move.”

Azzi shakes her head with a soft laugh. KK groans dramatically. “Unbelievable. She’s so whipped.”

Caroline sighs. “You two are actual children.”

KK, still rubbing her leg, huffed. “And Paige is a menace.”

Paige smirked, draping an arm over the back of the couch behind Azzi. “Damn right.”

Azzi just shook her head, biting back a smile. Paige, despite the chaos, felt perfectly content right where she was.

As they settled in, KK—still rubbing her leg from Paige’s kick—got straight to the point.

“So, Azzi,” she leaned forward, eyes glinting. “How do you know P over here?”

Azzi glanced at Paige before answering, “We met on the train.”

Caroline raised a brow. “The train?”

“Yeah,” Paige cut in. “We just… started talking.”

KK squinted. “You—just started talking? Like a normal person?”

Paige huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi, amused, added, “She claimed i was stalking and she almost spoiled my book.”

“The Housemaid,” Azzi said when KK asked which one.

KK looked blank, but Caroline nodded. “That one’s pretty good.”

Azzi smiled. “Yeah, it was—”

“Was,” Paige corrected. “Until I almost ruined it.”

Azzi hummed. “I forgave you, didn’t I?”

Paige grinned. “After ten minutes of glaring at me.”

KK waved a hand. “So, you met on a train, bonded over a book, and now P is acting all weird and protective?”

“I am not—” Paige started, but KK was already squinting at her like she’d solved a puzzle.

Azzi just shrugged. “I guess?”

KK pointed at Paige. “You left us in the cold forever before letting us in. Since when do you hesitate opening the door for us?”

Paige opened her mouth, then closed it.

Caroline smirked. “She’s got a point.”

Paige groaned. “Can we move on?”

KK leaned back, smug. “Fine. But I’m circling back to this.”

Caroline turned to Azzi. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m a model,” Azzi said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

KK’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, shit. Runway?”

“A little of everything—runway, print, campaigns, commercials. It depends.”

“Sounds intense,” Caroline said.

“It is,” Azzi admitted. “Schedules are exhausting, and there’s pressure to look perfect. Body, skin, hair—everything. Plus the traveling. I barely stay in one place.”

“Sounds like hell,” KK said bluntly.

Azzi laughed. “It has its moments.”

Paige, beside her, hadn’t stopped watching. Not just listening—studying. The way Azzi’s lips moved, the subtle gestures of her hands. Close enough to notice a stray piece of cotton on Azzi’s sweater, Paige reached out without thinking, plucking it off.

Azzi paused mid-sentence, glancing at Paige as she flicked it away like it offended her. Paige, unfazed, just nodded.

Caroline, watching, almost gagged. “Jesus Christ.”

Paige blinked. “Hm?”

“Nothing,” Caroline muttered.

KK, meanwhile, was grinning. “Nah, I see it now. P, you been starin’ at her like she hung the damn moon.”

Paige groaned. “Can y’all stop?”

Azzi, unbothered, side-eyed her. “She always does that when I’m talking.”

Paige deadpanned. “You want me to stop?”

Azzi smirked. “Didn’t say that.”

Caroline rubbed her temples. “This is unbearable.”

KK cackled. “I love this.”

Paige ignored them completely, turning back to Azzi. “So, what’s been your favorite shoot so far?”

Azzi tilted her head, considering. “Probably my campaign for Dior. It was shot in Italy, and I got to wear some of the most beautiful couture pieces. It felt unreal.”

Paige nodded, still watching her like she was imagining it all in real time. “That’s sick. You gotta show me the pictures later.”

Azzi’s lips curled slightly. “I will.”

Caroline groaned. “Jesus, Paige, can you breathe?”

Paige shot her a glare. “I am breathing.”

KK leaned in, whispering loudly, “Barely.”

Caroline, ever the level-headed one, leaned back. “Since we’re all here, should we play a game or something?”

KK immediately perked up. “Ooooh, drinking game?”

Azzi blinked, looking a little hesitant. Paige noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly against her lap.

“Azzi doesn’t drink,” Paige said quickly. “So we’re not gonna pressure her into anything.”

Azzi gave her a small, appreciative look.

Caroline nodded. “Fair enough. We can do something else—like a truth-or-dare type thing. Or Azzi could just get a pass on drinking and win a date or something instead.”

KK wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooooh, now that’s an interesting twist.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow at Paige. “You’re supposed to come to my fitting tomorrow. You sure you wanna drink tonight?”

Paige blinked. “Oh… right.”

KK groaned. “Oh, come on, P. One night won’t kill you.”

Paige hesitated, then shook her head. “Nah, I’ll just sit this one out.”

KK gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Who are you?”

Caroline laughed. “I mean, I think it’s sweet.”

KK shot her a look. “Okay, mom.”

Azzi, amused, just leaned in closer to Paige and whispered, “You’re really not gonna drink?”

Paige shrugged. “Gotta be sober enough to see you tomorrow, right?”

Azzi smiled. “Good answer.”

Paige grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Now, let’s play.”

As the game began, the questions were lighthearted, mostly directed at Azzi since she was new to the group. KK and Caroline took turns grilling her on the basics—where she was from, her job, and little details to get a sense of her.

Azzi handled it well, gradually opening up with a charm that made them warm up to her quickly. Paige, sitting beside her, watched with amusement, occasionally chiming in when Azzi mentioned something she already knew.

“You don’t have a New York accent,” KK noted.

Azzi laughed. “I’m from Virginia.”

“What brought you here?” Caroline asked.

Azzi hesitated, fingers twitching briefly. “Work… and a breakup.”

KK’s interest piqued. “Oh?”

Azzi smirked. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Caroline nodded. “Smart.”

“What’s your favorite thing about modeling?” Caroline asked.

“Travel,” Azzi said. “And the clothes—I get to wear things I’d never pick for myself, like the Italy shoot, It was on a rooftop overlooking the water—it felt unreal.”

“And least favorite?”

Azzi chuckled. “Shooting in freezing weather for hours in a thin dress.”

Paige frowned. “That’s messed up. No heated blankets or something?”

Azzi turned to her, amused. “They did, but only between shots. It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige still looked unimpressed but let it go.

The game continued, shifting between personal and lighthearted topics.

“So, how’d you and Paige start actually hanging out?” Caroline asked.

Azzi and Paige exchanged a glance, clearly recalling the same memory.

Azzi smirked. “I accidentally hit her in the forehead while trying to leave my room.”

KK’s eyes widened. “What?”

Paige groaned. “It was a personal attack.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “It was an accident. She claimed I “owed” her so to make it up to her, we got food together.”

KK squinted at them. “Huh.”

Caroline raised a brow. “And the rest is history?”

Azzi shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Then the questions took a turn.

“Azzi, biggest turn-on?” Caroline asked.

“Confidence.”

“And turn-off?”

“Arrogance.”

Caroline side-eyed Paige. “Oof, close call, P.”

Paige pointed at her. “I will actually fight you.”

Azzi, amused, turned to Paige. “You think you’re arrogant?”

Paige hesitated. “…No?”

KK and Caroline burst into laughter.

Then, KK smirked. “Paige, what’s your type?”

Paige stiffened. “Why does that matter?”

“Because we’re nosy.”

Azzi glanced at her, waiting.

Paige cleared her throat. “Uh… driven people?”

Caroline smirked. “She means brunettes .”

Paige groaned as KK nearly fell over laughing. Azzi arched a brow, amused.

KK’s next question was worse. “Azzi, if you had to go on a date with someone in this room, who would it be?”

Paige tensed, forcing herself to stay neutral.

Azzi looked around casually, then smiled. “KK. She seems like she’d make it fun.”

KK beamed. “Knew I had charm.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t expected that. The flash of something unreadable in Azzi’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed, but she said nothing.

Paige forced a smile. “Of course. You’d want someone who keeps things interesting.”

She took a sip of her drink, chest tightening, as Azzi leaned back, studying the room with her usual quiet confidence.

—

The room was slowly quieting down as Caroline and KK stood up, stretching and grabbing their jackets. The game had wound down, the laughter still hanging in the air as they started to say their goodbyes.

“I’ll see you girls in the tomorrow, alright?” Caroline grinned, her eyes landing on Azzi. “This was fun. You’re a lot cooler than I expected.”

Azzi laughed, her smile warm. “Thanks, Caroline. You’re not so bad yourself.”

KK smirked, wrapping Azzi in a big, affectionate hug. “You’re my new best friend,” she said dramatically, squeezing her tight. “Get ready for all the shit I’m gonna drag you into.”

Azzi smiled against her shoulder, feeling the comfort of KK’s warm embrace. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Alright, alright, lets go KK,” Caroline teased, pulling KK away and waving as they headed for the door.

Paige and Azzi stood by the bed, the weight of the night settling between them. Azzi glanced back before leaving. “Goodnight, you two. Sleep well,” she said with a soft smile.

“Night,” Paige mumbled, quieter than usual.

When the door clicked shut, Paige immediately started cleaning. Azzi joined her without a word, their movements in sync, comfortable in the quiet. It felt natural—like they’d been doing this for years.

As Azzi wiped down the counter, she realized how much she liked this—the quiet, the ease of being in Paige’s space. It felt like home in a way she hadn’t expected.

Once everything was put away, Azzi grabbed her purse, ready to leave. But Paige lingered by the bed, watching her with an unreadable expression.

Azzi noticed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting her purse down again.

Paige hesitated, then exhaled. “You can’t stay a little longer?”

Azzi blinked, surprised. Paige’s vulnerability caught her off guard.

“It’s late, and we both need sleep,” Azzi reasoned gently. “The fitting’s at nine. And you know how grumpy you get in the morning.”

Paige groaned. “Then stay here…We can grab your stuff in the morning.”

Azzi hesitated, warmth creeping up her neck at the thought. But she nodded. “Fine. But I need pajamas.”

Paige tossed her an oversized T-shirt and shorts. “Here,” she said, heart racing. “These should fit.”

Azzi changed and slipped into bed beside Paige. Just as they settled in, Azzi poked her head out from under the covers. “I can only sleep on the right side.”

Paige frowned. “You… want me to move?”

Instead of waiting, Azzi crawled over Paige—right across her body. Paige’s breath hitched, her face burning as Azzi’s (plump) ass rose in the air. Turning her face the other way quickly as Azzi settled beside her.

“You okay?” Azzi asked.

Paige cleared her throat. “Yeah. Just… hot.”

Azzi chuckled. “Goodnight, Paige.”

“Goodnight,” Paige murmured, though her mind raced with thoughts she had no business thinking.

—

Paige woke first, the warmth of a body pressed against hers making her heart stutter. Azzi was draped over her, breath soft against her neck, leg hooked over her own. Paige wasn’t used to waking up like this.

She turned slightly, taking in Azzi’s peaceful expression, messy hair, lips slightly parted. It made her forget, just for a second, how they ended up tangled together.

Azzi stirred, eyes fluttering open. Realizing their position, she pulled back abruptly. “Oh! Sorry sorry,” she whispered, cheeks flushing.

Paige smirked. “It’s okay. How’d you sleep?”

Azzi rubbed her eyes. “Your bed is way more comfortable than mine.”

Paige chuckled. “Then we should have more sleepovers.”

Azzi laughed, grabbing her bag. “We’ll see. Meet me in my room when you’re ready.”

Paige nods, the word slipping out before she can even process it. “Yes, ma’am.” Her heart skips a beat at how easy it is to fall into a rhythm with Azzi.

Azzi flashes her a quick, teasing wink as she slips on her shoes and walks out the door. Paige watches her go, a heavy sigh leaving her lips as she immediately misses the warmth of Azzi’s touch.

But there’s no time for that now. She groans, pushing herself out of bed, not used to waking up at this hour. 7:30. It’s early. Way too early. But, then again, here she is—getting up at this ungodly hour for a fitting with Azzi Fudd. The things you do for love. Well, not love… but, something like it.

She drags herself to the bathroom, hoping a warm shower will wake her up fully. The steam clears her head a bit, and she quickly dresses in the Fenty set Azzi got her. Another perk of having such a famous friend. She spritzes on her Valentino perfume, the same one Azzi always compliments her on. It’s become a signature scent now, one she associates with the brunette. Every time she catches a whiff of it, she thinks of Azzi.

With everything ready, she heads out of her hotel room. Her key’s on the dresser, still resting where she left it. But, once again, she decides not to grab it. She’s gotten away with leaving it before, and frankly, she likes it that way. It means she gets to spend more time with Azzi. Maintenance might get mad, but—oh well. She’ll deal with the consequences later.

Paige walks down the hall to Azzi’s room, knocking gently on the door. Azzi opens it almost immediately, looking effortlessly chic in her matching Fenty set. Paige’s heart skips a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You ready to go?” Paige asks, leaning against the doorframe, trying not to let the excitement bubble up too much.

Azzi nods, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walk out of the building, heading to Paige’s car. It’s a comfortable silence between them, the only sound the soft hum of the car as Paige pulls out. She glances over at Azzi, wondering if she should ask if she wants to stop for anything before they get to the fitting.

“Want to grab anything first?”

Azzi shook her head. “They’ll have breakfast there.”

As they pull up to the building, Azzi’s attention is drawn to something outside the window. She taps Paige’s arm a little too hard, making Paige jump.

“What? What?!” Paige says, looking over at her.

Azzi points, eyes wide with concern. “Look at that poor thing,” she says, voice full of pity.

Paige follows her gaze, spotting a small brown wiener dog sitting by the side of the building. Azzi’s face softens, and her heart melts at the sight of the little dog, alone on the sidewalk.

“No,” Paige says, shaking her head firmly, a small grin forming on her lips. “Not happening.”

Azzi pouts, her lower lip jutting out as she leans closer to Paige, her voice soft and pleading. “Please, Paige. Look at it. It’s so lonely.”

Paige rolls her eyes, trying to stay firm. “Azzi, this is the third time. You can’t save every dog.”

But Azzi’s eyes are impossibly wide, her pout deepening. She leans in even closer, nearly whispering in Paige’s ear. “Every dog deserves a home, Paige. Please… just let me take this one. It’s so cute, and it’s so alone.”

Paige groaned, already knowing she was going to cave. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Azzi’s face lights up, her joy so infectious that Paige can’t help but smile, too. Without hesitation, Azzi runs toward the little dog, crouching down to speak softly. “It’s okay, little one. You’re coming home with me.”

The dog wags its tail furiously, rubbing against Azzi’s hand. Paige watches, arms crossed, chuckling to herself. Azzi scoops the dog up like it’s the most precious thing in the world and turns to Paige. “Come on,” she grins. “Let’s go.”

With the dog in Azzi’s arms, they head into the building, the door swinging open behind them. They make their way to Azzi’s fitting station, Paige now with the dog in her lap as they sit off to the side, quietly eating fruit. Azzi’s designer arrives shortly, and the fitting begins.

As Azzi tries on different outfits, Paige’s attention drifts, unable to stop staring. She knows she’s supposed to be watching the fitting, but all she can think about is how incredibly beautiful Azzi looks in everything. She watches the way Azzi moves, how the clothes seem to fit her just right, the way her hair falls effortlessly over her shoulders. Paige can’t stop herself, even though she knows she should.

She absently scratches the dog’s ears, trying to keep her composure, but she’s failing miserably.

“Ugh,” Paige mutters to the dog, more to herself than anything. “She just… makes me so nervous. And I don’t get nervous a lot, you know?”

The dog tilts its head up at her, as if listening, but Paige doesn’t wait for a response. She’s too wrapped up in Azzi’s effortless beauty, her mind racing with thoughts she can’t even begin to process. “I mean, I know we just met, but you can tell me you don’t see the connection, right? I’m not crazy for thinking there’s something there?”

“Right, you’re a dog,” she continues, her voice softer now, almost whispering. “We just got you off the side of the street. What is wrong with me?”

She sighs deeply, the kind of sigh that feels like it could sink her into the floor. She doesn’t know what’s happening, but everything about Azzi just does it for her. Her legs, her smile, the way she carries herself—it’s all too much, and yet Paige can’t stop staring.

She can feel the heat rising in her chest, the way her body reacts just from being near Azzi—just from seeing her in these clothes. Paige is almost drooling, but she quickly pulls herself together, though she’s definitely not fooling anyone, especially not herself.

By the time the shoot wraps up, Paige feels something heavy in her chest. She watches Azzi cradle the dog, warmth in her eyes, and wishes—just for a second—that look was meant for her.

As they head to the exit, Paige checks her phone and groans. “Flat tire.”

Azzi glances over, unfazed. “Guess we’re taking the train, then.”

Paige sighs, but Azzi just smiles. “Maybe it’s fate.”

Azzi leads the way, the dog still curled up in her arms, as they make their way toward the subway station. The quiet between them settles comfortably, the low rumble of the train and the soft shuffle of the dog’s paws the only sounds breaking the silence. But for Paige, the air is thick with something she can’t ignore. Something she doesn’t want to ignore.

The train pulls up, and they step inside, the vibrations sending a slight tremor through Paige’s chest. Her mind begins to race, replaying all the moments they’ve shared—those casual, easy conversations, the effortless way Azzi could make her laugh. The way she smiled at her today, the way she treated the dog with so much care, so much love, like she genuinely cared about everything, everyone, in her orbit. And oh, god, the way she laughed.

Paige can feel it now, her heart racing, her palms clammy as she looks at Azzi, trying to steady her thoughts. This is happening, she thinks. She can’t pretend anymore. She’s felt this pull since that first encounter, when Azzi had sat across from her on the subway, looking at her like she’d known her for years.

She opens her mouth to speak, but they come out all wrong. “Azzi…” she starts, and her voice feels smaller than usual, maybe because this feels like one of the most vulnerable things she’s ever done. “Okay I— I know this might sound a little insane, but I can’t stop thinking about it. You.”

Azzi looks at her, brows lifting. “What do you mean?”

Paige hesitates but pushes through. “I like you. Like a lot. Since the moment you sat across from me on the train and I can’t keep pretending I don’t.” She meets Azzi’s eyes, feeling the weight of her own confession. “I just need to know if you feel the same, so I don’t end up looking like a lunatic Az.”

Azzi’s gaze softens. “Paige…” A small smile tugs at her lips. “I like you too.”

Paige blinks. “Wait. What?”

Azzi laughs. “I’ve liked you since… well we met, probably more since you made that weird face when I mentioned going out with KK.” She nudges Paige playfully. “I just didn’t know if it was too soon.”

Paige feels her heart skip a beat, and a rush of relief floods her chest. “So… you’d want to go out with me? For real?”

Azzi nods, that smile growing wider, reaching her eyes. “Of course, yeah.”

Paige feels like she’s floating, her heart doing something that feels like a cartwheel. She can’t help it—without thinking, she leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s like the world has fallen away, just the two of them in that moment, exploring this thing that’s been quietly building between them. When they pull away, they both just… smile.

Paige can’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Also I forgot my hotel key again…”

Azzi rolls her eyes, grinning. “Paige. Seriously?”

[incorrectfatui]

some Fatui headcanons before we resume the quotes (some funny, some sad, some just random idk) these are all over the place but oh well Pierro: Really liked talking to Signora about magic. They both use very different kinds, but they still have similar understandings, and no one else really wants to hear him ramble

Capitano: Oblivious to romantic relationships. Thinks everyone is just really good friends.

Dottore: Got so seasick on the way to inazuma and back, that he genuinely considered never visiting again. Spent like 5 months trying to research medication against motion sickness and ended up poisoning himself. Intentionally makes mathematical mistakes in his budget reports, just to annoy Pantalone.

Columbina: can't swim.

Arlecchino: Says "I don't have a favourite child", but definitely has a favourite child. Tried making Dad jokes once and failed miserably, mostly because she didn't understand the joke herself. Sometimes forgets that most the Harbingers are immortal, so she'll have situations where she mentions researching some long dead person, only for one of the others to go "oh i knew that dude personally". Somewhat salty that she isn't hundreds of years old.

Crucabena: Her birthday is on christmas. She doesn't know what christmas is, so it doesn't matter, but she just gives off the vibe of being born in winter and I think it'd be funny. Wrote letters trying to get Neuvilette to implement the death penalty monthly, but never received a reply. Has, one more than one occasion, used Hydro not to fight, but to drown people, because she liked watching them struggle.

Clervie: her and Peruere once illegally operated an Aquabus while on a mission. Peruere may have used it to commit vehicular manslaughter. Also she made mother's day presents every year, despite them being thrown away. Tried to teach herself elemental magic, but couldn't figure it out without a teacher. Once overheard Crucabena praying to the Cryo Archon. briefly had hope that she changed for the better, only to hear "Thank you your Majesty for giving me the ability to give people hypothermia".

Lyney: Genuinely thought Arlecchino was a guy for like 3 months after being adopted. Also sometimes forgets that Freminet isn't his biological brother.

Lynette: More cat-like than Lyney. Has caught birds and eaten them raw before, but doesn't do it anymore, even though Arlecchino approves.

Freminet: More powerful than Lyney and Lynette, even if it doesn't seem like it. Doesn't have all that much control over his cryo vision yet, so he mostly uses it as a support for his claymore, instead of the other way around.

Pulcinella: Has a lot of fun calling everyone a child, even if he isn't older than them. Dottore? Unruly teenager. Scaramouche or Sandrone? Practically a toddler. Arlecchino and Childe? Babies. Only ones he doesn't do this to is Columbina and Pierro. Columbina because he's scared, Pierro because of respect.

Scaramouche: One of the only people who actually understands how Ei's Realm of Euthmiya works. Has tried to explain it to several people, including Pierro and Dottore, but get's frustrated every time because they don't understand it exactly. So overcharged with electro energy, that touching him may give you a small shockl (yes, even after Sumeru). Is actually not completely sure how his body actually works, and neither is Nahida. Dottore has a pretty level of knowlegde (although he still gets a lot of surprises), but the only one who actually understands his body completely is Ei.

Sandrone: Tried to become active in Fontainian politics at some point. Promptly fell asleep in the courtroom because she spent several all-nighters trying to complete a project of hers. Complicated feelings about Scaramouche, ranging from "I want to dissect him" to "no one understands this guy more than me, ignore the fact that we talk like once every 5 years"

Signora: Even with the cryo delusion, her body temperature runs really, really hot. Is basically a walking heater- Columbina likes using her as a portable source of warmth. Also, her blood being liquid fire is not an exaggeration- got wounded in the palace one time, only to burn down half a library.

Pantalone: Once suggested suing Raiden Ei for child support. It did not work.

Childe: Completely unaware that Arlecchino isn't the first Knave. Thinks she's immortal too. Also only figured out that Dottore has clones after about a year of being a Harbinger.

[roseyodditea]

totally love your work especially Lighter part then i saw u open the request, so.. if u don't mind or busy, may i request Lighter with a deaf and mute reader. Lighter, who has trouble communicating with them, decides to learn sign language but sometimes he messes up so the reader decides to teach him and as time goes by, the two become closer and you know how it ends, i imagine Lighter trying to express his feelings using sign language (but again he fails because he's too nervous). tysm 💕💕

This is based off of ASL since I am American. Also, please let me know if there are any mistakes! I don't know sign language and I'm not surrounded by people who do.

Just Give Me A Sign - Lighter x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1000 words (exactly!). Lighter's favorite nurse visits Blazewood, and he's trying to learn sign language. Warnings -> Brief moment of an injury (not in detail). A/N -> I think I'm so funny for that title. Also I made the reader a nurse. I know it wasn't in the request but I felt a draw to this storyline.

It was rare you had to make a trip all the way out to the Outer Ring for work. Normally the bikers had a pretty solid trade schedule and wouldn’t need to order emergency supplies, and even if they did Piper would drive the truck back and forth. Today was a special case, and Blazewood had been hit with a bacterial contamination in the well water, so you were hauling antibiotics from the clinic you worked at. You parked your car and shot a text to Ceaser, who immediately exited Cheesetopia and ran up to help you unload the supplies. You saw her lips moving very quickly and since you were distracted you couldn’t lip read entire sentences.

Lighter… back… Hollow… Her face then contorted to frustration and you saw her lips form “Lucy” and decided to not pay attention for the rest of her ramble. After six months of being the nurse contact between your clinic and Blazewood, you think they’d remember you’re deaf. You carry more boxes into the makeshift clinic, storing them properly so the town could start to recover before stepping back outside. Technically you could drive straight back to New Eridu, but you decide to enjoy some time here. Hey, you were getting paid, might as well stretch out the clock.

It was a beautiful day in Blazewood. Little wind so sand and tumbleweeds were at a standstill, a thin layer of clouds to dampen the scorching rays from the sun. You walk over to the random couch and sit, closing your eyes to simply enjoy the warmth as it seeped into your skin. You only bother to open your eyes when you feel a small tap on your shoulder. You open them to see Burnice standing above you, holding a glass. Oh no.

Instead of watching her trying to clumsily fingerspell ‘Nitro-Fuel’, she gestures to the lower level, signing out ‘help’. You follow her only to see a repeat patient sitting on an empty oil drum, his leather jacket and scarf laid across his lap, his chest scratched and bruised and bloodied, a particularly deep wound on his shoulder. She leaves you to him and you quickly grab your phone out of your pocket, typing out a message. 

What now, Lighter?

Lighter glances over to the phone and shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his forearms with his fist’s balled. Fight. Of course that's a sign he knows. He didn’t learn any of the basic conversation signs, but he learned ‘Fight’ and most of the curse words. 

You look at his shoulder and know it wouldn’t need stitches, but it would need to be patched up. You shoot him a frustrated look as you snap on your gloves, Lighter offering a sheepish smile.  Your hands move quickly, practice. Lighter was a good patient, sitting still and only minorly twitching away from the antiseptic. You had his shoulder wrapped up tightly before you took off the gloves, typing something out on your phone before handing it to him. 

Change the dressing daily. Rest.

Lighter nodded before thinking for a moment, his movements uncertain as he placed his hand on his chin, gesturing it downward to you before holding a hand palm out, tapping his fingers together on his wrist. 

Thank you, Doctor

You shake your head, taking his hand and closing some of his fingers so only his pointer and middle finger are out, correcting him to sign ‘nurse’ instead of ‘doctor’ before bringing your fingers in the shape of a v up to your forehead, knowing he’d recognise ‘dumbass’. Much to your enjoyment, he looked a bit offended, but eventually smiled.

**********

With the waterborne illness still running through Blazewood, you came back a few days later to push IV fluids into the dehydrated, lending a hand to the Sons of Calydon when you could. Lucy and Lighter had joined you for a lunch break, Lucy being the only Sons of Calydon member who knew enough sign language to keep up in conversation with you. Lighter was in his own world, eyebrows furrowed tightly like he was deep in thought.

Lucy points to him, taps her chin, and then points to you. He missed you. You smile and look over to the man who was just scooting food around his plate. 

You roll your eyes, gesturing to him, and curling your pointer finger before tapping your lips and then your chest. He should tell me.

You and Lucy conversed for a bit, secretly talking about Lighter who was just watching the back and forth silently. He was getting better at picking up signs, but you and Lucy went too fast for him to keep up. Once Lucy left, Lighter looked at you over the rim of his sunglasses with those big puppy eyes. He might not be quick at picking up sign language, but every time there was a bit of free time between the two of you, he asked for lessons. 

You sat with him for what must have been an hour, running through basic conversational signs. Lighter was learning, slowly but surely. It was sweet. All of this work for him just to learn to talk to you in something other than typing or writing and passing notes. 

After the little lesson, Lighter looked up at you, his hands idly fidgeting. He was nervous, that much was clear. He points to you, taps his chin with his middle finger, before tapping his pointer finger and middle against his wrist. You, favorite, nurse… You’re my favorite nurse. Cute. 

You saw how nervous he was. How he had practiced those movements. So you decided to see just how much he had learned just for this cute little confession. You tap the tips of your flattened hand to the corner of your mouth and then up to your cheek. You smile to yourself as you watch his face explode into a deep blush, almost matching the color of his scarf as he looks away. 

Adorable. He already learned ‘kiss’.

Here are the resources I used for the signs! https://www.signingtime.com/ https://www.signingsavvy.com/

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the mirror - part 2.

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 3814 Summary: Dinner at Frankie's mom's is a disaster, she doesn't like you at all but her son doesn't fail to show you how much he likes you instead. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress and heels, she has hair but it's not described, no mention of her skin tone, she doesn't blush, she understands Spanish (but I didn't write sentences in Spanish because I don't know how to do it and I don't want to do it badly when I'm already writing in a language that is not my native), Frankie's mom is pretty conservative, traditionalist and closed-minded and she's mean towards reader, unprotected p in v (do better irl, please), sex in front of a mirror, oral (m receiving), Frankie is a good man ❤︎ and we love that for him. A/N: It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more. Thanks again @aurorawritestoescape and @arcanefox207 for your precious help and advices ❤️ I made a few changes from the first draft, English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. @joelmillerisapunk just 🥹🥹🥹💖 Part 1 ⎮ Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist

Frankie's mom has the same eyes as her son, brown, big and deep, but there is a sharpness in them that does not belong to Frankie's. 

She has a simple, well-groomed appearance, wearing a white tunic dress that comes down to her knee, her hands are slightly cracked but her manicured nails are painted a pearly pink. 

She is a short, thin woman with the haughty, imperious appearance of someone who doesn’t let anyone step on her toes, a woman ready to bargain, to work hard, to take care of an entire household without anyone's help.

She's a tough lady and you're pretty sure she hates your guts.

 She addresses you rather nicely but you can tell something is wrong.

Her tone of voice sounds mocking and she's constantly whispering things to Frankie in Spanish that you don't hear well but you're pretty sure aren't anything nice.

“So what do you do, dear?” she asks you with a forced smile, sitting at the head of the table as she has arranged you and Frankie facing each other.

“I…um…work in a graphic design studio,” you mutter.

Frankie quickly adds, “She's so good at her job!” 

The way he’s trying to enhance your skills since you arrived moves you, but his mom doesn’t seem impressed.

Mrs Morales is intimidating, staring at you like she’s trying to catch every single flaw you have.

You can't even use your usual sarcasm because she would surely think you were insolent and certainly not right for his son.

“Have you done anything that I might have seen? Any national commercials?” she prods.

“Um, I don't think so, we're a pretty small studio at the moment, we've mostly worked on graphics for local stores and websites for professionals here, you know.” 

“Oh.” She raises her eyebrow. ”I see.”

Trying to compliment her, you say the food is delicious, the best you've ever eaten, and she reserves a cold “thank you”

Then she presses you again, “Can you cook?”

You lower your gaze to your plate and admit, “no, actually, I'm not very good at cooking.” 

“What do you usually eat?” she asks suspiciously. 

"Um...well...I can cook pasta and eggs..." you try to say and she looks at you in shock as if you just said donkeys can fly.

“Mom, please” Frankie tries to calm her down and she hisses at him “she will starve you!”

He hisses in turn “I am not perished! And she’s adorable, she’s smart, kind, funny and beautiful”

You feel Frankie's sorry look comforting you from across the table, he's doing what he can and you are truly grateful, but right now there’s nothing that can make you feel happy to be here.

You don't want to fight with her because you love Frankie and you know he loves his mother, you don't want to lose him because of scowling at her.

You see her giggling and shaking her head and you feel like crying but you don't, you don't want her to add ‘pathetic’ as one of your flaws.

She turns to Frankie and says something like, “How can you be with someone like that?” in Spanish. 

Frankie leans over the table and reprimands her, “Mom, stop it.”

She responds irritated in Spanish, “why? She is no good at cooking, and that job? Tsk, you don't want to marry her, do you?”

Frankie rolls his eyes and hisses, “Mom!”

You understand Spanish just fine but all this whispering is putting a strain on you, you just want her to see how much you care about Frankie and for her to like something about you. 

Even the dress didn't have the effect you had hoped for, she looked down on you even though her son had chosen it.

You brought her flowers and a cake to be nice and she huffed about the flowers because she would have to find a suitable vase to put them in and as for the cake, you bought it, so obviously it’s another proof of your failures in the culinary field.

She waves her hand at Frankie to shush him and turns back to you.

“Do you want anything else, sweetheart?” nodding at the serving dishes in the center of the table with another fake smile. 

Your stomach churns and you respond politely that you are full.

She turns back to Frankie, squinting her eyes, "she won't even eat! how is she going to give me grandchildren?!”

You look at your hands resting on your lap, feeling lousy and tired. 

Frankie must see this clearly because he finally blurts out, “Mom, if you don't stop now, we're leaving! She has done nothing wrong to you to be treated like this”

Mrs. Morales brings a hand to her chest, a shocked grimace is painted on her face. 

 “How dare you address your mother like that! I'm just trying to protect you, she's clearly not good for you!” She no longer even bothers to say it whispering in Spanish so that you wouldn't understand, in fact you think she said it loud and in English precisely so that her disappointment would be clear to you. 

You get up while they are still busy arguing and lock yourself in the bathroom. 

You knew this evening would be a disaster, but you hoped so hard that you were wrong. 

You’re glad Frankie stood up for you but you never wanted him to fight with his mother because of you. 

You hear their angry voices in the distance as they continue to argue and you feel so guilty.

You sit on the floor on the turquoise tiles in Mrs. Morales' bathroom, thinking only about how much you want to get out of here.

After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door. 

 “Honey, open up, it's me” You get up and reluctantly open the door.

“Hey, come here” Frankie says to you as soon as he sees your eyes on to the brink of tears.

He closes the door behind him and takes you in his arms, holding you tightly. 

You hide your face in his chest, letting the soothing warmth of his body envelop you. 

He strokes your back and whispers, “I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this.”

“I wanted her to like me so much,” you sob. 

“I know, honey, it's not your fault. She is fixated on things I don't care about. But you don't have to worry, everything will be fine.”

You pull away from him “I don't want you to fight over me”

"She can’t treat you like that, I'm the one who wants to be with you, and I like you the way you are.”

“Yeah, but…it’s still your mum,” you murmur.

“I gave her a little speech, don’t worry, you’ll be fine now,” 

Frankie smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.”

“What did you say to her? You didn't threaten her not to visit again, did you?” you ask worriedly. His eyes become a little shy, he’s quiet for a moment and then whispers to you, “no, I didn't tell her that.” 

“What then?” his enigmatic expression that doesn't let anything out intrigues and agitates you. 

He looks straight into your eyes and candidly admits, "I told her that I love you." 

You've felt it in the air for some time but now that you've heard it come out of his mouth, plain and simple, you are stunned. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask in a low shaking voice, looking into his big brown eyes for evidence of his sincerity. 

"I've never been so serious, miss," he smiles at you, expectantly. 

And then you feel you can say it, no matter how scary it is for you, “I love you too.” 

It doesn't seem real to you that you have just made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, your neighbor who until a few months ago was bothering you while now you feel you have a total and deep connection with him, no matter how much you poke and bicker at each other, your heart sings every time you are with him and you feel it loud and clear in your chest as it skips a beat every time Frankie looks at you a certain way, smiling with his eyes, with those little wrinkles around them and that dimple on his cheek that you adore. 

You love the way he mumbles in the morning as soon as he wakes up, the way he stretches under the covers and then again as soon as he gets up, his golden skin under the morning light, his playfully mischievous eyes that settle on you while you're still lying down trying to wake up, the way he always leans down to give you a kiss, whispering, “Good morning, princess.”

You also love how he keeps that silly little cap glued to his head at every opportunity.

You like kissing him and feeling his lips tasting like coffee, you like the way he hugs you as if he wants to shield you with his body and protect you from the world, you like the way his eyes become attentive and receptive when they rest on you and the way he listens to you, remaining silent and caressing your hand as if to invite you to tell him anything that is on your mind. 

You love how loyal he is to his friends, how he takes care of people, you love when he tries to make you breakfast even though he leaves a mess in your kitchen as if a barbarian invasion passed through.

And you love him now, standing in his mother's bathroom, hugging you as if only you existed in the world. 

“I love you,” you repeat and he looks at your face as if he wants to study the map of how much you truly care about him on it.

His hands slide down your back to your butt and he pushes you hard against him without breaking eye contact. 

His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated, he squeezes your butt tightly and then kisses you. 

You know exactly what he wants and you whisper into his mouth as soon as you break away from the passionate, deep kiss in which he engulfed you, “Not here, come on, take me home.”

He turns to the door and locks it still holding you close. 

“Let it go, baby, it’s okay” he replies and winks at you.

Feeling so desired by him is a real relief after feeling stupid and unfitting all night.

He turns you to the large mirror above the sink, leans to your ear and whispers, “Look at yourself.”

His hands move up your back, reach for the zipper of your dress, and begin to pull it down.

You look at him and he rebukes you, “eyes on the mirror, honey. Watch yourself while I do it.”

He slides off your dress breathing on your skin while you keep your eyes fixed on the mirror. 

You remain in your bra and panties. 

He brushes against your skin, rising on your arms only with his fingertips, climbing up your shoulders, your collarbone, the point where your shoulders and your neck meet and up to the column of your neck until he reaches your jaw. He tilts your head a bit and holds your chin to make sure you’re going to watch the entire time.

He holds you so that you can lean against him, and with his other hand he reaches down to your stomach, touching the hem of your panties.

You sigh happily as he slides two fingers under the fabric and caresses your folds, slides down the sides to the bottom and pushes upward. 

You moan softly, “Frankie, please” 

“Don’t be impatient, babe” he reprimands.

He curls your panties between his fingers and starts brushing them over your folds, you whine at the sensation as he tilts your head down a little bit to make sure you’re seeing what he’s doing. However you would not be able to watch anything but his movements. Right, left, right, left Frankie's fingers expertly maneuver the fabric over your pussy.

Your inhibitions are long gone, everything is faded and far away. 

There is only you and Frankie.

He suddenly lets go of your panties and massages you over them, soaking the material in your juices. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much for his fingers to get wet too. 

Your breath becomes shallow as his hand slithers under the fabric and he begins circling your clit.

You can already feel your legs going weak so you raise your arm and place your hand behind his neck to keep yourself more stable against him. 

“Yeah, just like that honey. You want me to make you feel real good, huh?” Frankie’s voice vibrates against your neck and you mewl a yes feeling your body mold for him. 

Your eyes are fixed on the mirror.

You see your hot and bothered face, your lips parted, your pleading eyes and your body impossibly tense against him. 

It’s all painted there, the amount of desire and hunger that you have for him, a grimace of lust and need spread out on your features. 

“Fuck me,” you babble.

“Yeah? You want my big cock inside, baby? Want me to fill you to the brim?” Frankie’s smirk is wide on his face, you see his eyes focused on you, and his commanding tone sends shivers down your spine as he doesn’t stop rubbing on your clit. 

“Yes” you breathe “please”

Your legs wobble as you try to stand on your feet while he undresses. 

His shirt falls on his mother’s bathroom tiles, he unbuckles his belt and places it on the countertop, he kicks off his boots, unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, stamping on them to get them off his feet.

Through the mirror you see him standing behind you, wearing only his boxers, the muscles of his chest highlighted by the lights, his soft belly just above his boxers that makes your mouth water, the happy trail that goes to hide inside, his strong thighs and the imperious erection that grows between them.

 It's a perfect picture of everything that makes your head spin.

“On your knees, baby, I want to feel your mouth first,” he orders you. 

You immediately kneel, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, the coolness of the tiles on your shins, and his simmering gaze dominating you from above.

You caress his hips, pulling down his boxers, and taking them off, and his cock finally springs free and almost smacks your face towering before your eyes. 

You take him in your hand, feeling that familiar warmth, the softness of his skin, the pulsing of his veins, as he leaks pre cum within an inch of your lips.

As soon as it slips on your tongue you feel a new slick of arousal dripping on your panties.

You lace your gaze with his, your open mouth curved at the edges in a smirk as you let him in, you love doing this to him. 

You usually take in as much as you can while taking care of the rest with your hand but tonight you want to feel it all the way down, so you relax your throat as much as you can and keep sliding it until you feel the tip touch the bottom. 

You have a slight hint of a gag reflex that you manage to quell right away and you keep him there, nestled inside you, pulsing on your tongue as he looks at you raptly and whispers, “God, you're amazing.”

And then you begin to suck him, slowly, enjoying every moan and every involuntary twitch of his hips, cocooning him with your tongue.

You’re fully immersed in the act, intent on giving him all the lustful pleasure you can, licking his tip like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around and collecting his oozing pre cum.

And then you go down again, spreading it on his shaft, mixing it with your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him as deep as you can.

Frankie is whimpering and you know how much he’s close to the edge.

Your hand caresses his base, then you move it to his balls, with every intention of getting him to finish in your mouth and swallow everything he gives you but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You let him out with a pop, passing the tip over your lips and smacking it against them twice, wetting them with his pleasure.

You give him a mock pout for stopping you but the truth is you can't wait to feel him split you in two. 

He smiles at you, taking your hand and helping you up, you give him a kiss with your mouth still smeared with him. 

He turns you back towards the mirror and gently orders, “bend over the sink”

He slides your panties down your legs, exposing your drenched pussy, bending down to admire it, “So fucking wet…it’s all for me, baby?”

“Just for you, always,” you turn to look at him and see him leaning behind you as he reaches down and licks your folds, a long deep lick that makes you gasp.

“So good, honey, I would never get tired of this perfect pussy.” His voice vibrates on your skin sending a thrill all over your body.  “It’s the only part of you that I like to see weep for me” 

His rough voice charged with ardor and his words send you into a frenzy.

He comes back to stand behind you and looks at you in the mirror, resting his large hands on your hips, “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

You feel his cock rub against your folds, and you throb intensely overwhelmed by your craving, you mewl at him and he finally aligns with your entrance and starts to push in. 

You slowly stretch around him, he groans as he slides into you, every inch of his length parting your walls.

His hands still clasp your hips, holding you steady as he gives you a moment to adjust. 

You're full of him and you wouldn't want to be any other way.

Frankie holds you firmly as he sinks into you, slowly at first and then increasing the pace as your moans grow rougher and closer, his balls slamming against your ass in a feverish rush.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

He pulls you toward him, his fingers reaching for your nipples, tweaking and tugging.

You can't help but look in the mirror now and what you see is the most exciting sight you've ever had before your eyes.

Your body is completely surrendered to him, your skin glistening with tiny droplets of sweat, your hair disheveled, your expression ecstatic, Frankie's hands firmly clinging to your hips as the wet, squelching sounds of his cock pounding incessantly in your cunt fill the room along with your moans and Frankie's groans.

And Frankie is literally a dream, his broad figure towering over you, his mouth roaming your neck, his hands enveloping your tits, squeezing them so right. 

He’s completely lost in you, his eyes half-closed, his tongue darting out from time to time soothing your sweaty skin. 

Now you know that you have never experienced such strong feelings in your life. 

You thought so, but you were wrong. 

It’s not the usual cliché of feeling complete with someone else, you are already a whole. 

It’s the fact of knowing that you can share with him, that you do not have to be afraid to be who you are with him. It is the fact that he knows how to understand the workings of your brain and unravel the skein that tangles it. It is the fact that you can feel that there is nothing you cannot face together. It is the fact of feeling seen, perceived for who you really are and held close for it.

It's knowing that wherever you run, Frankie will pick up the crumbs you leave on the road and bring them back to you.

And you had no idea that it could really be like this.

You always thought, it's only 4 months, don't push it when in the meantime he proceeded to tiptoe into your heart without even being noticed and sat there, waiting for both of you to be ready to say the most terrifying words out loud. 

Not "I need you" but "I'm so damn happy you're here", not "you're mine" but "I love holding your hand as I navigate my life.”

Not by owning, but by letting you do your own thing while you look at each other and think, “this is the person I love and I am proud of them.”

You're just out there being the most fragile human sometimes but you're never afraid to break down next to him.

Frankie comes, dripping onto your walls, his orgasm and whimpers shuddering against your body.

He wraps one of his big, strong arms around your hips and holds you up against him.

And you're safe, really safe, being vulnerable in front of a mirror, watching yourself come apart for him, feeling every inch of your body catching fire while Frankie is the match and the water at the same time. 

He holds you tight until you both recover normal breathing, still nestled inside you. 

He pulls out and embraces you, leaving small kisses on the soft skin near your ear, his large hands caressing your back. 

“I love you so much” he whispers once you make eye contact again.

“I love you too, Morales” you smile, tracing his cheek with your fingertips.

You both get dressed and leave the bathroom. 

You walk down the hallway leading to the living area as you wonder how much his mother heard. You cannot even quantify how long you were locked in the bathroom but it was worth every second. 

You find her in the living room, watching TV with the volume on full blast.

Frankie approaches his mother, without saying anything, rests his hand on hers while she has her eyes fixed on the telenovela you watched with your granny. 

“Do you think Javier will finally be able to confess his feelings to Lola?” you ask quietly. 

She turns, just for a moment, and finally gives you a genuine smile.

For the first time you feel that maybe, after all, despite the way you and her son just desecrated her bathroom, all is not lost. 

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @almostempty , @harriedandharassed , @thundermartini If you want to be added or removed just let me know, thank you so much for reading!

Archive tag: @pedrostories ♥️

[sturnioz]

We need more ps!chris

FEED US PLEASEEEEE

what about how it all started, I mean, how Chris decided to start as a pornstar

— how pornstar!chris started ! [i made a mistake btw. he should be called onlyfans!chris cos he only posts on twitter and onlyfans. but im dumb so]

☆ chris was in extreme need of money. the job he had as a waiter was barely putting any money into his pocket even though he was taking on other peoples shifts and asking for more hours. he had enough to pay for rent and groceries, which truthfully is more important than anything else, but he still wanted to treat himself like any other human being would.

☆ he was aware of twitter porn, and he was very much aware of onlyfans. he never really thought to put himself out there like that until he came across a post on tiktok listening to someone talk about how much money they had made posting... and that got his brain thinking.

☆ chris didn't post straight away. he thought about it for awhile, weighing the pros and cons. he knows he's attractive and he knows he's hung in a humble way, he definitely has the assets to make at least a few bucks. but the cons of people finding out who he is — for his family and his restaurant job to find out — that scared him a lot.

☆ it took chris over a month and a half to work up the courage to do it. he was desperate. so he decided to make an account on onlyfans and twitter, at first only posting videos below the chest. he wouldn't speak or show his face, only letting out a few subtle grunts and moans whenever he touched himself.

☆ he found it awkward at first because cumming in front of a camera was a lot difficult than he originally thought. he watched porn to get himself hard before setting up the camera and doing his thing, but he ended up getting camera shy a few times and stuffed the failed videos into a hidden folder on his computer.

☆ however, despite a few mishaps, chris made so much money. more money than he'd ever seen in his life. people were getting off to faceless videos of him? they were paying him for more content? he became a favourite so quick on twitter, and the number of followers/subscribers continued to rise day by day.

☆ due to being so entirely grateful for his following, chris started kissing the camera. he would still hide his face, only showing a brief few second clip of his lips as he kissed the lens — that immediately became a favourite, so he made sure to continuously kiss the camera right before the video ended.

☆ it took chris a few more months to actually speak. murmuring soft praises, telling his viewers how close he was to cumming, how he's doing all this for them. but unfortunately a co-worker of his at the restaurant recognised his voice, and they immediately cornered him at work the next day.

☆ surprisingly, chris wasn't as embarrassed as he thought he'd be, and the co-worker did promise to keep it a secret from everyone — but chris didn't really want to take that risk. so he quit his job. he was fortunate to have the money to do so.

☆ he did end up explaining to his brothers when they questioned him about why he quit his job over dinner (which was funny because nick screamed 'WHAT' and matt choked on his drink) but they were supportive of their brother !! and they had zero problems with it, only telling him to be safe.

☆ chris got more and more comfortable over time, and that's when he started showing his face... and of course, that got him even more recognition for his attractive appearance. a few people noticed who he was though, that was a given, and he did have a few side eyes and interesting paragraphed texts from people he knew. but more importantly, his family supported him, and thats all he really cared about.

[shizuturnspages]

MISUNDERSTANDINGS THAT COULD END LIVES , it was very funny xDdddddz, can I request one from(diluc?) kaeya and Albedo?? (the unlucky one could be Barbara's stalker)(I don't remember his name xD)

How To Accidentally Die in Mondstadt

Kaeya: The Devil in Disguise

Kaeya is charismatic, charming, and incredibly good at making things sound worse than they are. He’s also bored half the time, which means sometimes, just sometimes, he likes to mess with people.

And that’s exactly what happened the night Albert (Barbara’s infamous stalker) made the biggest mistake of his life.

Albert had been lurking outside the Angel's Share, trying (and failing) to look casual while watching Barbara through the tavern’s window. His little stalker heart fluttered—his idol, his goddess, his one true love was inside, talking to you.

He clenched his fists. Who the hell were you? And why was Barbara laughing like you were the most interesting person in the world?

He was just about to storm in when someone tapped his shoulder.

“Ah, what do we have here?”

Albert yelped, turning to see none other than Kaeya Alberich, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world.

“Oh, C-Cavalry Captain Kaeya!” Albert stammered.

Kaeya’s smile was too friendly. Too sharp.

“You seem upset,” Kaeya hummed, tilting his head. “Staring at (Y/N) like that… jealous, are we?”

Albert scoffed. “Why would I be jealous? That thing doesn’t deserve to be near my dear Barbara—”

Kaeya’s grin widened.

“Oh? So you don’t know?”

Albert frowned. “Know what?”

Kaeya sighed dramatically. “You poor, poor fool.” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“(Y/N) isn’t just some random person.”

Albert swallowed. “...What do you mean?”

Kaeya’s eye twinkled with pure evil.

“Ah, you see… (Y/N) is a hitman.”

Albert’s blood ran cold.

Kaeya kept going.

“You didn’t hear? The Favonius higher-ups got tired of your little ‘hobbies,’” Kaeya said, shaking his head. “They decided to hire an… outside solution.”

Albert’s face went pale.

“And you know the funniest part?” Kaeya leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “They don’t just kill you. No, no. First, they take their time. A little pain here, a little broken bone there—”

Albert bolted.

He ran like his life depended on it (because in his mind, it did).

Kaeya, meanwhile, just chuckled and walked back into the tavern, where you were completely unaware of what had just happened.

You blinked up at him. “Where’d you go?”

Kaeya smiled, sipping his drink.

“Oh, nowhere important.”

Diluc: Silent and Deadly

Diluc was used to people being terrified of him. He was the Darknight Hero, after all. It came with the job.

But he was not expecting this.

Albert, still paranoid from his encounter with Kaeya, needed a place to hide. And what better place than Dawn Winery?

Surely, nobody would think to look for him in the domain of Mondstadt’s most reclusive noble.

So, heart pounding, Albert sprinted into the estate, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled through the grand entrance.

A maid, Adelinde, looked at him with a raised brow.

“...Sir, do you have an appointment?”

Albert, out of breath, wheezed, “I—I just—need to—”

Then everything went silent.

Because standing at the top of the staircase was Diluc.

Watching.

His red eyes glowed in the dim lighting, burning into Albert like a predator eyeing weak prey.

Albert froze.

Diluc descended the stairs slowly, deliberately.

His boots echoed against the marble floor.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Each step felt like a death sentence.

Albert couldn’t move.

Diluc stopped in front of him.

“…You shouldn’t be here.”

Albert swallowed hard.

His gaze flickered to Diluc’s hands.

Where he saw something dark.

Something staining the noble’s gloves.

Blood.

Albert’s breath hitched.

Diluc followed his gaze, then let out a soft hum.

“I see.”

Albert almost died on the spot.

He turned and ran before Diluc could say another word.

The red-haired noble watched him go, his expression unreadable.

Then, calmly, he turned to Adelinde.

“…Why did he look at me like that?”

Adelinde sighed. “Master Diluc, you do realize your gloves are covered in grape juice, yes?”

Diluc looked down at his hands.

Ah.

That explained it.

Albedo: The Quiet Menace

Albedo was not a people person. He was a scientist first, an artist second, and a conversationalist dead last.

So when Albert (who, by now, was convinced that the entire city was out to kill him) ran into Dragonspine, he wasn’t expecting to see the Chief Alchemist himself.

He also wasn’t expecting Albedo to be standing over a pile of bones.

Albert froze.

Albedo looked up, tilting his head.

“…Can I help you?”

Albert’s fight-or-flight instincts kicked in.

His brain put two and two together.

“(Y/N) is a hitman.”

“Diluc wants me dead.”

“Albedo is standing over a pile of BONES.”

Albert screamed.

And Albedo, not knowing what was happening, just watched him run away with mild confusion.

Sucrose, coming out of the tent: “Who was that?”

Albedo: shrugs “I don’t know. But I think he’s scared of me.”

Sucrose: “...Did you say something to him?”

Albedo, glancing at the pile of Dragonspine monster bones behind him:

“…Maybe.”

The Fall of Albert

The next morning, Jean received a formal resignation letter from Albert.

It simply read:

"I regret to inform you that I am leaving Mondstadt permanently. Please tell Barbara I loved her. But also that she should watch her back, because this city is full of killers. I am certain that (Y/N) has been hired to end my life. Kaeya knows everything. Diluc is covering up crimes. Albedo is dissolving bodies in Dragonspine. I no longer feel safe. May Barbatos bless you all."

Jean blinked.

Lisa, reading over her shoulder, burst out laughing.

You, walking in completely clueless: “What’s so funny?”

Jean and Lisa, looking at you like you just committed murder:

“…Nothing.”

Moral of the story:

Never let Kaeya talk unsupervised.

Diluc should probably stop crushing grapes with his hands.

And Albedo should not be seen near bones.

RIP Albert. You will not be missed. 😌

[unfortunate17]

Thinking about a fic where Simon is a journalist at a left wing, anti-monarchist news outlet and he’s given the chance of a lifetime to write a scathing, brutally honest piece about the newly crowned, young King Wilhelm who has a history shrouded in lewd private school parties, drugs, and more than a few gay allegations. Simon, who’s met the then-Crown Prince exactly once (at Felice’s infamous New Year’s bash) and was promptly ignored by Wilhelm when he very politely said hello, is eager for the chance to prove himself as a serious reporter.

Cue Simon spending months strategically using every contact he has to slowly but surely get close to the king - because sometimes ethical journalism requires unethical practices - until he and Wilhelm are spending long afternoons together talking about anything and everything. And if on one of these afternoons, Wilhelm ends up fucking him harder than he’s ever been fucked before, that’s between Simon and god himself.

Wilhelm is, of course, nothing like Simon had been expecting. He’s smart and kind and funny and sincere - and frighteningly lonely. By the time he confesses that he spent hours at that fateful party trying and failing to come up with a way to talk to Simon, and of course managing to completely botch the entire thing when Simon had actually given him the time of day, Simon thinks, with a terrifyingly sinking feeling, that he’s made a mistake.

Except the story’s already been turned in, and when published the next morning, is instantly viral. Simon spends the rest of the day alternating dread so deep he scarcely feels human and regret so sharp he can practically taste it.

Finally, his phone rings at half past one in the morning. On the other end is a clearly inebriated Wilhelm, who in a devastatingly sad, quiet voice asks, “If I promise to give you enough material for another story, will you let me see you again?”

[chainelunaire]

Hi, can you write a virgin Dabi headcanon? Or like his reaction to getting his first blowjob by the reader?

(this is kinda heavy and not smutty at all)

dabi's so repulsed by the idea of sex, it's funny (it's very much not).

growing up in a home where he had not witnessed gentle heartwarming love between his parents, then being traumatized by near death experience, which then resulted in a constant body horror in every sense of the word, and Then for years trying to survive on streets while simultaniously keep training hard - yeah, i think he kind of haven't had enough time or energy for anything other than his Great Goal.

(from here i believe it can go two ways, one him being so closed off physically, and the other is for another post, if ever interested)

his mind is set on revenge, his entire soul is dedicated to a great cause, and while this all is true, it is also true that he clearly understands how scary (read, ugly in the eyes of others) he looks. he lives in this new body designed for him specifically not so long, yet he already knows every little disgusting detail about it, and every day he's finding a new one. deep deep inside he is terrified to the core. not only is he experiencing a major body dismorphia issues, but this also comes with a fact that this body was quite literally sewed together, replacing the burnt parts with flesh he doesn't want to ever question where came from. this body fails him every day. he lost his nails not once, but many times. he expericenced almost every infection known to mankind due to constantly open wounds. he frequently steals clothes, because they end up getting stained, in some parts slimy, and he's a clean freak, he kind of needs to be to survive. once he left a small piece of his ear on a pillow in one of lov's hideouts and was freaking out after. because the police could figure out his identity (not quite, he later realised, since they were not really his ears), and because he was really fond of the lost earring. compress later gifted him a new one. you get the picture.

he himself made the decision to cut off anything that will bring him any pleasure in life (sex included). it's a plethora of reasons why he doesn't want any of it, the main being is that of course, he doesn't believe anyone would genuinely want him in that way, and the second one, very vulnerable and naive, is that he realises that that will make everything harder for him. he's living this life on a hell mode already, he doesn't really need any more disappointment. so he build his later life so that it would be easy for him to let go in the end. and believing that someone found him attractive enough to have sex with him without any ulterior motives would make it harder (not that it'd ever happen, of course!). he's smart enough to understand that.

so he, of course, has much more important business going, and so you know - he's not interested. no one would be interested in that. no one in their right mind would want that, because there's nothing to want.

and you would think it'll take forever for him to fall for you, but it's easier than it seems. him still being that depending on what others think of him, still wanting the so long delayed approval and attention, it really won't take much of you for him to like you. he's so sensitive to kindness, especially when it's not towards him personally (that would make him alarmed, if anything) but rather casual small things, it really does something to his hardened heart. make no mistake, him liking you does not equal trusting you, that's a different story for another time. for now, he tries to hide it and he does it really well. so well in fact that for a long time you're quite sure that he wants you dead. he kind of does. but he still likes you.

fast forward to the subject of sex: he tries his best to avoid it at any cost. by that time, being in a relationship and trusting you enough to simply entertain the thought of it, he still thinks it's better if he dies on the spot rather than try. all of his insecurities come alive and well the exact time he thought he got rid of them.

the thing is, he doesn't necessarily want sex in itself, but he surely wants love. he wants to be loved so much and to him you seeing his body and running away in horror is a very real fear. he knows he won't be able to survive this, his mind would be completely broken. he's self-aware enough to understand that even knowing he's not the most sane person in the room. he will be able to live without sex, he was living like that and he was fine, but he won't be able to move on if he'll see the disgust on your face. if you'll find out what he truly is, it will crush him.

he will make it incredibly hard for you. he doesn't want to be a walking emotional rolling coaster, but he can't help it. he's terrified. one day he thinks that it's not a big deal let's go and later in the evening he'd disappear for a week. one moment he kind of wants to catch up and at least learn something on the matter and second later after opening the first link on google he's embarrased, disgusted and wants to set himeslf aflame. in general, he kind of wants to cry the whole time. he's angry at his dad, his mom, psychos that sewed him together, you, who's still by his side being annoyingly patient, but most importantly, he's mad at himself. he's already doing great mental gymnastics in favor of his own life, which he hadn't consider his for more than a decade. turns out, it could be very painful to realise how much you were robbed of, even after claiming for years that you didn't even want it.

needless to say, it'll take more than one shot for you, but eventually he will come around, probably on a random tuesday. tries to be nonchalant about it, but he is so chalant actually. after so much talking about everything he was capable of muster, after so much reassuring and constant showing of love and respect, he could one day wake up and suddenly realise that that fear while not fully gone, but he's at least capable of trying through it. you always knew he would be a sweetheart, him, however? not so sure.

in the end, you are right.

by that time, he's a lot more calm and collected. tells you to be serious and stop giggling, his ears red as a flame when you start laughing full chest - sometimes you are nervous too, he realised later in your relationship, even though he still doesn't understand why, anyone would want you. learnt to accept the fact that complete darkness won't save him in the end, but still asks for a very dim light. he doesn't really care about himself, but he tried to learn more so it would be good for you at least. compensates the lack of experience with observing every reaction he can get out of you (and he has a mental list from all the time before too). he's slow - because he's shy and inexperienced and afraid, - annoyingly so, but he's surprisingly precise and selfless. he would never be rough, especially the first time. needs gentle encouragement, which is perfect - not only he gets to hear your voice more, but his thinly veiled praise kink is enjoying the attention too. cracks some joke about begging the god not to lose his second earring in the middle of it, and you actually laugh so hard he needs to stop because now he's laughing too. the whole time not once has he found in your eyes something he was so afraid of finding. you look at him with nothing but love and adoration, hold his face in your hands, your palms warm and soft and tender, and his chest is tight with pain and with the lightness of it all. at some point he thinks that he really was right, it was easier to just die than to experience it all. he wants to cry, again. he can't really explain why, so he lays in your arms silently, letting you hold him, caress his hair and skin until you fall asleep. it will take all of his willpower not to run away in the middle of the night, he stays because he doesn't want to hurt you like that.

interestingly enough, in the morning without doing anything at all he feels significantly better. he can't help but smile when he enters the kitchen, seeing you preparing the breakfast and brewing hot black coffee. none of you mention the night before, yet you both are smiling at each other when you start to eat.

in this scenario, he'll need quite some time and hard work to only warm up about the idea of a blowjob. he'll forever be disgusted of the body he's currently living in, the best he can hope is to grow neutral about it, which is very real possibility with time. yet, he probably realises he's not ready to take this step now. he's not even sure if he ever will.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Raven Queen's Bottomless Compassion: Exhibit Duchess

As a fandom, I don't think we talk enough about just how incredible Raven is, which is a shame because SHE'S THE MAIN CHARACTER!

And there are lots of things to like about her! She's obviously got her incredibly interesting and complex relationships with Apple and her mother and her story-driving, world-shattering actions as she rebels against an oppressive system.

But even beyond the main story beats, Raven is a delight! She's funny and has an amazing dry, observational kind of humor that makes every scene hilarious. She's creative and clever, capable of making both very well-thought out plans and improvising decisions on the fly. She's constantly in wonder of the world around her, even despite the horrible looming destiny system, and is able to find joy in things as simple as tea with her friends or playing guitar. She's relatable, and she feels like she could be a friend of anybody watching or reading the series.

But today, what I want to talk about is Raven's neverending all-consuming COMPASSION. Raven Queen is able to find the good and a reason to love every single person in her life.

This is really obvious in scenarios like Apple, who Raven considers a friend and enjoys being around, even as Apple tries to force Raven into a terrible life that she doesn't want. It's obvious in instances like Cerise, who Raven didn't know very well prior to Cerise sharing her secret, and who Raven still goes out of her way to help and love and support, to the point that Cerise joins her main friend group. It's obvious in cases like Dexter, who feels inferior and unseen around most people but who Raven values and admires from their first real interaction, and it makes him feel good about himself.

I could go on and on, but today I wanna talk specifically about Raven's compassion towards Duchess Swan. This is gonna get long, so under a cut it goes!

Now, from what I remember, Raven and Duchess don't interact much in the cartoon. When they do, it's usually with Duchess acting as part of a group of Royals, not independently. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me and add your own examples!

But in the books? Their relationship makes me feral. Duchess treats Raven similarly to how she treats everyone else: badly. Her rude and self-absorbed attitude make her one of the first people to mock Raven, and while the books make it clear this has been happening since they were in Nursery-Rhyme school, it's clearly demonstrated in one of the earliest scenes of the Storybook of Legends (Briar's Book-to-School Bash).

After this scene, Raven goes back to her room, buries her face in her pillow, and refuses to speak to anyone. But this is how their relationship starts. Duchess is cruel and antagonistic, like she is with everyone (although moreso with Raven, since the greater royal-rebel tension is coming into play here), and it deeply hurts Raven enough that she literally explodes. Duchess knows she's made a mistake, but doesn't do much to repair things with Raven beyond avoiding her.

Duchess fades into the background for a bit until Next Top Villain, which is HER book. The premise of this book is that Duchess gets assigned to General Villainy by Headmaster Grimm who is now taking Raven seriously and is worried he can't make her be the Evil Queen for the Snow White story. Since he knows about Duchess' willingness to try to steal other people's destinies (ANYBODY's destiny, since she's got a REALLY terrible fate all things considered), Grimm puts her in General Villainy and hopes she'll go after Raven.

Duchess is at first reluctant and confused (she has the same dilemma as Raven of "which is worse, failing a class called General Villainy or acing it,"), but she overhears Grimm discussing his plans for Duchess with Badwolf, and counts that as permission to go all in.

When Blondie decides to advertise the General Villainy's latest thronework of "do a rotten and nasty plan," and turn it into a televised competition, Sparrow (who is ALSO in the class due to Grimm trying to capitalize on his less-than-heroic tendencies) gives Duchess the advice of just sabotaging all the other students plans (he's gonna double cross her at the end, but that's not important right now).

So, Duchess goes about spying on her classmates, ruining their plans, and netting them all failures while she creeps closer to an A. For the whole competition, Duchess is SURE Raven is going to be her biggest obstacle. I think this goes to show JUST how deep the brainwashing runs in EAH society.

This is AFTER Raven has very publically refused to sign her page and has become the face of the Rebel campaign. Duchess has WATCHED Raven in general villainy say that she doesn't want to be evil and would rather just be nice. And Duchess is still convinced that Raven must be a true villain at her heart and is going to do an actual nasty scheme, and she has no idea how she's going to sabotage it. So, she goes to spy on Raven to get some ideas.

And look. If I were Raven, I would still be pretty upset with Duchess at this point. She's said and done some really awful things to Raven and people Raven considers friends. Yes Raven has bigger things to worry about. Yes being hostile and bitter takes more energy than being nonchalant and kind. But I don't think I would have been able to forgive Duchess at this point.

But when Raven catches her spying (in swan form), this is how the interaction goes.

Apple was in the room with them JUST a few seconds ago. She really easily could have sold Duchess out, or at the very least ignored her. But instead, she acknowledges Duchess with her trademark intelligence and casual kindness, which Duchess has NO IDEA how to react to.

The book continues and there's some incredibly heart-wrenching and dramatic stuff where Duchess sabotages her roommate Lizzie, who she's been slowly building a genuine odd friendship with. Duchess is probably at her lowest point in this scene I'm about to share, and when Raven steps up to reveal her plan, she's thinks she's about to lose absolutely everything---her friend, her reputation, AND her grade. But Raven surprises her.

Before we get on to the next part, I want to stop and mention that not only did Raven NOT HAVE TO DO THIS, it also had to be INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT FOR HER. Remember, Raven doesn't have very good control of her magic (as seen in the party). Even when she's just trying to use small amounts to help herself, it usually ends out working not quite right (like launching herself into the sky instead of turning invisible, or making her heavy trunk trail behind her with snail slime instead of making it feather light). And in the very first scene of the books, we learn that Good Intentions + Raven's Evil Magic = Disaster (and usually fire and/or explosions).

Raven could have very easily just said "I'm not doing a scheme, leave me alone." She's under no obligation to help Duchess. She's not trying to be evil, and she doesn't want people thinking she is. This kind of blasè brush-off would be perfectly on-brand for Raven. But instead she takes a MAJOR risk using her uncontrolled magic and puts on this big show just to help someone who's been nothing but cruel to her. And why?

RAVEN QUEEN IS FULL OF NEVER-ENDING AND BOTTOMLESS COMPASSION!

She SEES Duchess in a way that literally nobody else does. She SEES Duchess in a way that she is able to SEE every single person for who they really are and what they really want. And when she realizes that Duchess is unhappy in the life she's been handed, Raven ignores ALL the horrible things Duchess has done to her to help her change it AND stops to let Duchess know "I respect your right to make your own choices, but I don't think this'll get you what you want."

And I think it being Duchess specifically in this instance is REALLY important. Apple might be trying to force Raven into becoming a terrible person and living a miserable life, but Apple does still LIKE Raven. She values Raven's skills and personality, and, as long as the subject of destiny doesn't come up, is pretty nice and polite to her. She would never consider doing the things Duchess does like insulting Raven's father.

But even when it comes to people who have been literally NOTHING but unkind and malicious to her, Raven Queen's heart is so big that she does her absolute best to love them and help them become better people anyway. And if that isn't an absolutely amazing role model of a main character, then I don't know what is.

As the book continues, Sparrow double crosses Duchess by playing his guitar really loudly and startling Lizzie's horse during their Princessology riding exam. Lizzie's horse runs off course and almost kills her Sparrow, but Duchess saves her just in time. This causes Mr. Badwolf to Fairy Fail Duchess (since, saving a Princess' life outweighs her schemes), but it does save her friendship with Lizzie.

And the people at the end of the book who comfort Duchess after her dangerous and daring rescue aren't any of the princes or any of the teachers or any of the other Royals. It's Lizzie Hearts---her roommate, the girl she just saved, and the person who is now probably her best friend---and Raven Queen.

The girl who's endless compassion and willingness to say "No, this is wrong, there is a better way" is a force for change and good so strong that it can do almost anything. From something as big as defying an oppressive system and inspiring others to do so too, to something as important as saving Cerise and Maddie from exile, to something as small and simple as inspiring someone as bitter and afraid as Duchess to be a little braver, a little kinder, and a little better.

Also, massive thank you to @athena-xox for having ALL of the EAH media available digitally for free in her pinned post, it makes analysis like this so much easier.

Give it up for Raven Queen.

[ursuu-la]

hi hi!! if the requests are still open can you do a fully one shot of reader crying in the bathroom and spencer comforting her? like she went shopping with her mom and met mom made a comment abt her body i’ve had a rough day and this would so totally help

thank you sm!!

Beautiful - S. Reid.

wc: 1.3k

tw: negative comments about others and oneself body.

a/n: I hope you like it and that it falls into your expectations!! This will be the first fic I post btw. English is not my 1st language, so there may be spelling or grammar mistakes♡♡ thanks for the request♡♡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You sighed. You knew that her comments would affect you, but this was worse than you expected.

When you were inside the dress room, looking in the mirror, you could only think about how perfect the dress looked on you and how you wanted to show it to Spencer. But when you walked out there to show the way it looked to your mom, all those thoughts were brought down as if her words were made of rocks and your thoughts of feather.

"Don't you think it makes your arms look fat? And that fitting around the waist doesn't help your body type... Maybe you should consider other options, honey." You smiled and nodded, trying not to be affected by her sentences but failing.

When you entered the fitting room again and you saw your reflection on the mirror, you felt a knot form on your throat. You knew very well that feeling, but you weren't gonna cry, not until you were alone in your home.

You took the dress off as fast as you could, not wanting to feel that ugly for much longer. You handed the cloth to the saleswoman standing next to your mother and walked out of the store. The woman with you seemed confused when you told her that you didn't want to try any other outfit on.

"Why would you say that? We haven't found one that suits you fine yet! I'm your mother, and I can't allow you to keep dressing so horribly." She said, trying to laugh it off in the end, but it wasn't funny to you. "Oh, come on! You're never satisfied with anything I tell you."

"Well, maybe it's because you're never nice with the things you say." You spoke calmly. Yet you were boiling with anger and frustration inside.

"If I don't ever say nice things about you, it's because maybe there's nothing nice to say! Do you want me to say something pretty about your body? Well, be pretty first!" Your mom yelled this at your face, caughting some people's attention. You just sighed, not wanting to fight with her anymore.

"I won't tolerate this. I'll see you when you change." You left your mother speaking alone.

All you wanted to do now was to get home and just cry until you felt numb, Spencer was off at work: he had to work in the office today and he wouldn't come home until probably 5p.m.. This left you with the whole house to yourself.

When you finally got to your place, the first thing you did was to go get a shower. You undressed yourself and took a well-needed shower to relax your body. As you felt the warm water fall over your skin, you could feel how your emotions started to let go, and it didn't take you long to start crying.

You stayed a little longer than needed under water, but given the circumstances, it was justified. When the water stopped running, you grabbed a towel and started drying your body. You put your underwear and your pants on, but before putting your shirt, you looked at your reflection: big mistake.

All you could see were the defects your mom had pointed out, all the bad things you were convinced you had. Seeing all these things was a trigger to your crying. All the tears you had been holding since the morning were now dropping without any control. You were sobbing loudly and trying to take your look away from the mirror, but even if you did so, the idea was already stuck in your head.

You kept crying when suddenly you heard the sound of keys being placed in the table. 'Spencer?' You thought. It couldn't be him, he was at work. And if it was, had he heard your crying? You had probably been so caught inside your own thoughts that you didn't even hear when he opened the front door.

With a wave of adrenaline invading your body, you covered your mouth to stop your sobbing. After doing it, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"(y/n), are you there? Hotch gave us the afternoon off since there were no cases." It was Reid's voice, you felt your body freeze. You couldn't even process the thought of having to tell Spencer about how awful you were feeling at the moment. You didn't want him to carry with that weight that belonged only to you.

"I heard some noises coming from there, I know you're inside." You were still silent. "Hey, you're worrying me. Are you okay (y/n)?" He spoke again.

"I'm fine..." You said, but your voice was nasal because of how long you had been crying.

"You're not. Open, please... You know you can talk to me..." His voice was calmed yet worried.

"Give me a sec. I have to get dressed." You lied. You just needed to gain a little more time to calm down and compose yourself before facing Spencer.

After maybe three minutes, you unlocked the bathroom door, which was then opened by Spencer. When he saw you, your eyes and nose with a red tone, he knew instantly that something bad had happened while he was gone.

Before saying a word, your boyfriend grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into a tight hug. You couldn't help but to start crying, it was comforting to feel him next to you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You nodded, your head still pressed into Spencer's chest. When you were ready, you stepped back from the hug and looked at your boyfriend's eyes.

"My body... I'm not pretty, I have a ton of defects, and I just don't understand how to make them better. I know I have to improve the way I look, but I just can't seem to find the right way to do it and-"

"(y/n). You're the most beautiful woman who has ever stepped on this planet. You don't need to improve anything about the way you look. You're perfect like this." Spencer interrupted you, placing both hands on each of your shoulders. His face was honest, and even though he made you feel a little better, your insecurities were still there.

"You're just saying that because you love me..." You spoke, and instantly felt annoyed with yourself for finding a way of seeing the negative side.

"Hey. Do you forget I'm a genius? If I say that about you, then it must be true, right?" You smiled at him, and he seemed relieved for at least getting you to smile. "See? You liked the idea. Have a little more self-love, and whenever you don't feel like you are pretty enough: come to me, and I'll make you remember how pretty you are."

After saying this, Reid grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, bringing your faces really close. He was scanning every part of your physiognomy. To his eyes, you were a goddess, and it broke his heart not being able to make you understand just how beautiful you were.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or are you just making me wish for more?" Hearing your voice so playful brought Spencer back to reality with a smile. After processing your words, your boyfriend broke the distance that kept you too from kissing.

Even though Reid and you had kissed a hundred times before, there was something magical about this time in particular. Maybe it was because of all the beautiful things he had just told you, or because now you felt like the most perfect woman in the world, kissing the most handsome man on earth.

"Spencer." You spoke softly when you pulled away from the kiss.

"Yeah?" He answered, his eyes reflecting the purest kind of love you had ever seen.

"I love you, you know?" He nodded, which made you both smile. Spencer Reid truly was the best boyfriend in the world.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[wordy-little-witch]

Brainrot is kicking in, work has me by the throat, I am so tired

Enter: self indulgent sillies

Shanks and Buggy both were kidnapped very often as children - be it by Marines, enemy pirates, Whitebeard on occasion, random ass guys targeting two unattended children, whatever.

They both have gotten so desensitized to it that they don't even get scared anymore. It becomes more "I'm not held here with you, you're stuck here with ME" type of situation.

Buggy is sassy, snarky, rude and sarcastic. Shanks pops in now and again with some completely out of pocket shit that sends Buggy into hysterics. Think that scene from Helluva Boss with Blitzø and Moxxie being kidnapped.

This complete lack of care extends well into their adulthood - Shanks because it's honestly kind of funny that someone had the audacity to try him, Buggy because sarcasm and sass is his defense mechanism.

Enter: Cross Guild.

Marines try an infiltration mission to Cross Guild, but they severely underestimated the organization. Mihawk was off island at the time, so they thought that the biggest powerhouse who could identify them via observation haki was gone. Buggy notices immediately both because his haki is oversensitive and he's gotten scarily good at reading body language. Crocodile, when informed, proposes they give the squadron what they want with interest.

A series of unfortunate events lead to Buggy and some of the crew shackled and in the plaza. Buggy's got seastone cuffs on wrists and feet both, and has failed to mention the mini transponder in his hair piece. The Marines made the mistake of cuffing him behind his back, thinking it would limit his knife skills. They don't know that Buggy's anxiety and paranoia has lead to him having a secret pin in his boots specifically to pick locks.

Buggy then proceeds to roast the men with all he's got while he works.

The others present are both confused and fighting laughter as the commanding officer gets more and more pissed off before he finally backhands Buggy dark enough to split his lip. Then a hand clutches his throat, lifting him slightly. Buggy splutters. The marine grins, a nasty thing, demands Buggy apologizes, complaining about the blood on his white sleeve. Buggy tries to speak and can't from the lack of air.

"Oh," the officer coos, "what is it? Finally going to beg forgiveness?" He loosens his grip just enough for Buggy to get some air, lowers enough for the other to go on tiptoes to get a strangled breath. Buggy cracks an eye open, a smile blooming on his face.

"H-Harder, daddy~"

The Marine drops him in disgust.

No matter what they try, Buggy has a come back. Crocodile is listening in, and Mihawk, upon arriving back, has joined him to avoid the navy presence. They're both a bit stunned, a little intrigued, and mayhap rethinking some preconceived notions of the clown.

Especially when there's sound over the transponder snail, a little clink, thump, a shout, and something wet.

"Well," Buggy's voice carries over. "Who's next? Come on, I haven't got all day, you already made me miss two appointments, you dull Neanderthals."

There's a sound like a sword being drawn, a war cry, and Buggy chuckles. "Ohh. You're stupid, huh? That's okay, Buggy likey dumby~"

Turns out even in seastone cuffs, even in twice as much as a typical pirate or criminal wears, Buggy is more than capable of taking out a squadron. He uses his surroundings to his advantage, fighting dirty and taunting them playfully, much to the admiration of the other's present. One cuff is off his wrist, but three more are still on him, cutting off his powers. He still manages to not get cut until the near end.

Even then, it's because one of the stragglers tried attacking his chained subordinates. Buggy gets a cut to the cheek, mild and harmless, maybe needing stitches, but he's furious. "No no no," he grits out, "You're playing with me right now." A stolen sword sinks into an opening with ease. Buggy leans in close. "Don't you ever fucking touch my children. Understand?"

No response. Buggy shifts the sword. There's a scream.

"Understand?"

"Y-yes..."

"Yes what?"

"Y-yes... s-sir."

Buggy snorts. "I was looking for your majesty." Then he yanks the blad up and out, leaving the body to slump to the ground. He turns to the few remaining. "Well?"

Buggy handles it on his own, the followers are even MORE fanatic, and Crocodile and Mihawk are facing a sudden and unexpected paradigm shift while watching Buggy happily eat a bowl of ice cream, kicking his feet happily and simply vibing like it's a typical Tuesday afternoon.

[lilliekun]

Absolutely correct translation, but as a french person myself I would like to add that Boulanger is actually a store chain present on the entire country that sells NOTHING related to baked goods ! The shops sells electronics and home appliances so yea being french and seeing them go into a shop named boulanger to buy croissants and bread was really funny because if you actually do that in France you'll get very confused because all you'll see are computers, fridges and hair dryers !

Oof they spelt it wrong 😭 Boulanger = Baker while Boulangerie = Bakery

-Your local French student

[indigofyrebird]

A Tale of Brothers

820 words

Rated G!

Kind of angsty. Kind of sweet.

-----------

"What, no hug for me?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Crosshair wished he could take them back. He hated the way it made him sound like a child, like he wanted a hug. He didn't. 

Echo's response made him cringe inwardly. "Depends on how good your intel is." Crosshair turned his head away from the other man's intense gaze, huffing out a dismissive breath. He didn't need Echo's approval. He surely didn't need a hug from him.

Dinner was awkward. Talk of Tech made the ache in his heart threaten to overwhelm him. His food tasted like sawdust. He offered what he could with information about Barton IV, his hand tremoring hard at the memories it brought up. They would leave in the morning. 

When Wrecker brought his armor kit out and presented it to him he could hardly speak for the lump in his throat. One glance up at the back of Wrecker's head and then the brief eye contact with Hunter had him turning away, heart feeling like it had dropped into his stomach. Why do I care what HE thinks? Crosshair cursed to himself. 

Omega lightened his mood immidiately. She was good at that. Reminding him that she was the older sister. Now that was funny. He smiled, the feeling foreign on his lips. 

------

Crosshair stepped out into the bright sunlight, adjusting his chest plate. His old armor was a little loose but he had to admit it felt good. It felt like home. Like all the memories of a childhood spent learning to fight alongside his brothers were held in each piece of armor. He would be forever grateful to Wrecker for keeping it safe for him. 

Looking up at the ungodly screeching, he watched the ice vulture circling overhead. Mayday's voice in his head combined with the frigid temperature sent a shiver through him. The sun coming through the clouds was nothing more than light, giving off very little warmth. 

Inside, the abandoned building was dark. Wrecker clicked on his flashlight. Echo's response to Crosshair's "I guess it served its purpose" with "sounds familiar" made Crosshair a little sour and he turned to explore alone. Does he have to remind me of my mistakes? To rub it in? The helmets when he found them did nothing to help his mood. Cast aside, their purpose served. The human beings that once wore them, long gone. Crosshair knelt to retrieve one of them. They had served their purpose hadn't they, he thought. I served my purpose. And how was I repaid? How were these men repaid? He clenched his fist and swore under his breath. 

Crosshair took out his anger on Hunter. He wasn't planning on saying those hurtful things to him, but once he started, the words wouldn't stop. "She went through what she did because you failed!" he said, more than a small part of him wanting to insert the word I. I went through what I did because you failed...but no. He didn't blame Hunter, not really. That was just his bitter, wounded heart talking. 

And then the wyrm came and they fought. Hunter falling through the ice sent a stabbing panic through Crosshair and when he screamed his name it was with the deep fear of losing someone close. But they beat the wyrm. They beat it and they caught their breath and they sat side by side. Crosshair thought in that moment that this was good enough. If his squad never accepted him more than this, a soldier looking out for a fellow soldier, this was enough. In his heart he knew this was a lie. These were his brothers. The only family he had ever known. 

Then, Wrecker grabbed them both in a hug so fierce that Crosshair could have cried. He rolled his eyes at Hunter from under Wrecker's arm and Hunter gave him a small smile back. Crosshair knew then that his brothers wanted him, maybe even needed him. 

----- 

Sitting in the quiet of the ship, Crosshair rested his head in his hands. He slept on and off, waking when he felt Echo sit beside him. "Cross..." Echo trailed off hesitantly. Crosshair turned to face him, rubbing his sleep filled eyes. "Listen, Crosshair, I just wanted to say...it's good to have you back." Crosshair looked at the other man carefully. Echo had clearly been wanting to say this to him. As if it were important to him. Crosshair nodded, embarrassed, not sure what to say in response. 

And then Echo placed his arm over Crosshair's shoulder and pulled him close in a warm embrace. Part of Crosshair wanted to resist, to pull back, but he didn't. He didn't want to be pitied. Somehow, he knew Echo didn't mean it as pity. He rested his head on Echo's shoulder, and when Echo moved back slightly, they placed their foreheads together gently. "Brother," Crosshair muttered softly. 

For the @summer-of-bad-batch prompt "hugs"

[notelcol]

A rivals desire 🌹

Non gender specific rival/lover✨

A little story inspired by the Wanderers ‘about us: rivals’ voiceline. In this story, reader is studying in Vahamuna with the Wanderer and is his only true academic rival. You and he are the only ones able to really challenge each others work. It will, of course, be set in Sumeru post it’s archon quest.

Mildly edited, apologies for mistakes🫶

——-

“So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.” The Wanderer scowled at you, referring to the time you helped thwart his plans to become a god.

“For the last time. No!” Your voice became faster and louder as you continued. “Unlike you, I can let things go!” You glared at him.

“If you aren’t out for revenge, then why would you rebuke my paper?!” He leaned closer as he waved your latest paper around. “Why else would you make a point of disputing every paper I submit?” His voice became quiet, full of venom with a touch of vulnerability.

“I rebuked your paper because it was short sighted. Same as all the others.” You told him. “Your takes on history and society are factually correct and full of potential, yes. But, you always fail to see the true story.” You say, slightly distracted by how close you stood to him. “You miss out the heart of everything by only focusing on the tangible parts. True insight comes from mixing the facts with the feelings that follow in their wake.” You explained, eyes flicking to the ground as you finished talking and realised how long you’d been maintaining eye contact.

When he didn’t reply, you returned his gaze again. He seemed to be lost in his mind, you could almost see the churning of waves behind his blue eyes.

“So you’re telling me, that to reach academic greatness I must tap into my emotions to find the heart of things?” He asked incredulously before scoffing. “You realise I don’t have a heart right?” He folded his arms and raised a brow as he spoke. His words made you chuckle.

“The heart just pumps blood around a body. The brain is where all thoughts and feelings lie….surely you have one of those don’t you?” You smirked.

“Yes. Very funny.” He deadpanned. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, if we’re done here?” You gestured to the path you were on your way down before he interrupted your journey.

“Wait!” He grabbed your wrist as you began to turn away. “If you think you know so much, then show me. Show me how to achieve ‘true insight’.”

You deliberated his request for no where near long enough, given the task it would be to get this man to view society in a sympathetic way.

“Fine. Lesson one. Tell me one emotion you are familiar with feeling.” You looked expectantly, assuming he would give you an immediate answer. After mulling it over he opened his mouth..and then closed it again, before finally speaking.

“Desire.”

“Good! That’s good, you can tap into that. Think of something you want and go after it. Study that feeling. Then when you succeed, focus on how you feel when you get whatever it is you want and it will lead you to another emotion to study.“

“This is ridiculous. Talking about feelings to better writing, how warped.” He grumbled.

“You sound like Azar.” You shook your head at him, remembering the former grand sage.

“Don’t compare me to that old fool!” Offence tainted the Wanderer’s words. “I am nothing like that failure. I am better.” His breath fanned your face as he argued with you.

“Then stop acting like him and prove it! I wouldn’t ‘make a point’ of challenging you all the time if I didn’t believe you could be brilliant.” You exclaimed. His eyes darted around your face as he seemed to freeze. You watched him wade through his mind, slowly you could see his soul becoming clearer in the distance. You had lost yourself in his eyes and possibly would have stayed that way for eternity if he hadn’t grabbed your cheeks, shocking you back to reality. He almost looked as confused as you, before pressing his lips to yours.

Your eyes widened as the space between you closed, but when his fingers started stroking your cheek as he kissed you, you couldn’t help but melt. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and you let yourself fall into the kiss. You swore you could feel him smile right before he pulled away.

“Peace.” He spoke as he rested his forehead on yours. “The fruition of my desire leads to peace.”

——-

Thank you for reading 🌹