#Julie and Frank are open for asks! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kawaiialeisha · 3 months ago

Text

⚠️ WH SPOILERS

WELCOME HOME APRIL 12TH UPDATE ANALYSIS

This is my analysis on the new WH update with the help of many wonderful people in my server!! ^^

---

These are all in reference to the hidden Julie videos.

First video: Julie was attempting to get the entirety of Home (aka the neighbourhood) in bloom before homewarming. Julie came across a flower that hadn’t bloomed. She was trying to get it to bloom but it wasn’t talking to her nor blooming. Frank was not present while she was trying to make it bloom.

She leaves it be as Frank calls her over somewhere, promising to come back to make it bloom.

Second video: Julie seemed to have reserved that flower to show Frank and let him make it bloom with her help.

It's mentioned that rainbow monsters (like herself) have many responsibilities corresponding with nature. She references her family's motto, as if it's something to be proud of. Keep this in mind.

It's also worth noting that according to Julie, with enough positivity, the flowers will bloom by homewarming. So it seems these flowers can only bloom from happiness.

Julie stated that she can’t hear flowers that haven’t bloomed yet. Julie and Frank talk to the flower to try and get it to bloom, getting stumped. Julie attempted to solve it through her board game.

The two state:

Frank: “…No surprise chess manoeuvres! I know you’re not allowed to combine the Queen and the knight during chess, Julie! You can’t trick me again!”

Julie: “But pieces are just keeping each other company, Frank! It sounds like somebody’s just sore about losing the queen’s favourite horsey!”

I think Julie's last line means something more. A lot of these videos almost imply meanings of replacement or loss.

Third video: In the beginning of the video, Julie whispers in a serious tone “you’re still closed” twice before addressing it more clearly and happier.

She talks about how Barnaby and Howdy make fun of her a little, possibly discussing her insecurities. Julie also mentions in this video that she likes Frank the most, considering she met him first when she first came to the neighbourhood. She didn’t know anyone when she came here. She said she doesn’t exactly remember how her and Frank met, but she assumes it was when she was building her burrow. Frank fell into her tunnel. She whispers in a serious voice again to herself, “Was he mad? I don’t think he was. I think he said to me, "Are you new here? I’m new too, my name is Frank." I think he knew I was scared. He said a really corny joke to me, and I laughed.” She states she met Wally the same day, which is when she got her home. She also states she can’t say out long after dark, as they’re not supposed to be outside. The reasoning is unknown. Wally suddenly comes out of nowhere, saying in a slightly distorted tone, “Did all that really happen, Julie?” This might imply she forgot something important, which is brought up in the fifth video analysis.

Fourth Video:

Starting with the flowers POV, Julie says "it's still here" in a slightly distorted voice, referring to the flower. I used to think it was the flower talking, but it was actually Julie's inner thoughts/voices, as proven in the transcripts. It's strange that this flower's POV hears her thoughts, her negative ones too.

The POV cuts to a different one as Julie greets the flower normally: "Hello my possible petunia, it looks like you still haven't opened! Why is that?"

But then it cuts back to the flowers POV, Julie's voice getting serious again, asking, "What's wrong with you?" inside her head.

It cuts back to normal again, "I'm sorry, is it because I haven't been around as often? I promise it wasn't on purpose! I've been busy. I have a lot of responsibilities. I'm home's cheeriest neighbour!"

It's almost as if she's trying to be something of worth, to live up to her actual name. Did you catch that she didn't want to join the joyful sibling's band as a drummer? Maybe she didn't feel worthy enough, maybe she has insecurities, maybe she didn't fit in with that role, or maybe she had feelings that she shoved away to also maintain being home's cheeriest neighbour.

She begins talking about the 'Sweet Briar' play and says, "It's about a princess who falls asleep for a long time after a mean fairy puts a spell on her. Then her handsome prince comes to wake her up!" It cuts back to the flowers POV, saying inside her head, "If only it was that easy."

Again, another possible reference insecurities. Her thoughts start to be more prominent and reoccurring, getting more negative and worrisome.

Here she begins to lack self esteem, by saying she thinks she did alright and struggled a bit during the play. She also mentions how she liked letting someone else lead. She told the flower earlier in the 2nd video that she had a lot of responsibilities, so maybe it ties to that.

More signs of insecurities and spiralling from Julie. The way she fears and talks about her family's thoughts about her not being able to get a flower bloom makes me think they've possibly neglected her before? Or maybe she's avoidant so she can make a good example of herself, as she was hesitant to join her family's band.

Fifth video:

I think something happened to Julie at one point. I think it’s between her and home, maybe. (Considering I think home is trying to take control and isolate the neighbourhood from the darkness surrounding the edges of the map, as seen below)

The link to her fifth video has the words “tears”, “remembrance”, and “instability” in it. The instability part is very obvious within the video, but tears and remembrance mean something deeper I think. Tears and remembrance combined could mean a sad memory. In the video, Julie makes the excuse her family is here and she should go say hi before they leave home. She rushes over to the flower and thinks to herself, “you’re still here. After all this time. I spent so much time talking with you. I gave you everything I could.” She starts to cry in a way, then saying “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you want, I don’t understand what the problem is.” It then cuts to the flowers POV, now inside her head again, “Was that not enough? Do you want to get me into trouble? Why are you doing this to me? Was it because of the early spring? Are you mad at me for that? I don’t know why that happened, it’s not my fault! It’s not my fault! Please, please don’t do this to me! Frank is nearby, please I’m begging you, please bloom before anyone sees you. Please bloom, please, please-“

She is now treating this flower differently compared to the first video. She's almost threatening this flower in a way, believing it will somehow get her into trouble. Almost like... something is after her.

When in the first video, it seems she had stumbled upon it for the first time, keen to make it bloom. With positivity. But all this flower is consuming are her negative thoughts.

It cuts back to a different POV where Frank is looking for her. She cusses to herself since Frank has found her. She panics, trying to not let him see the flower. She turns to the flower to tell it one last message. "You won’t be around for much longer- You’ll go away by Homewarming- I’ll never see you again, no one will, no one will ever know you were here- and then I’ll be free- I’m as good as I ever was- I’m Julie Joyful!-" It seems as if she’s insecure, incapable of being worthy. Maybe it's even an identity crisis too, as some have speculated. It also seems as if there’s been a significant event that happened in the past that she can’t remember properly. Or perhaps, a consequence. She also seems to be getting a consequence in the near future if this flower gets her in trouble somehow.

---

Other thoughts with the information we know now:

Credits to @gho-zzy

Call-back to video three, remember how Wally was there? I believe he's been listening through the flower. I mean, these styles of hidden videos ALWAYS have Wally in there at least somewhere. Especially in his POV. So, he must've taken this flower's POV somehow. It might be the reason why it wasn't blooming either.

Another call-back to this image here:

You can also see footsteps leading into the forest. Perhaps this is where she goes to see the flower?

ANYWAY!! I will update this as things become available again, since the 5th video is currently down.

#welcome home #wally darling #julie joyful #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home theory #welcome home analysis #welcome home julie #welcome home wally #welcome home frank #frank frankly #AleishaTalks

591 notes · View notes

babybluebanshee · 2 months ago

Text

Poppy’s update back in October just kinda blew by everyone, but I personally find it very interesting, especially when you take into account that she’s clearly based on Big Bird. The climax of the video is her being tormented by some unknown presence while she sits in the dark, only for…someone (the transcript doesn’t identify them, but they sound suspiciously like Frank and Sally) to burst in and ask why she didn’t open the door. Poppy simply replies “I couldn’t get out…I…am I out?” For those of you not full of Seasame Street trivia, this is how you operate the Big Bird costume:

Looks a little claustrophobic, huh? Given how much Poppy resembles Big Bird, I have to imagine you work her puppet in a similar manner. What if the people talking to Poppy at the end of her video sound like Frank and Sally, not because they are, but because those are their puppeteers? No cast or crew information has been released yet, but it makes me wonder - is that the horror of Welcome Home? After all, one of the trigger warnings of the ARG is depersonalization. Did these people who created a beloved puppet show to entertain children begin losing themselves? They stopped being able to tell their puppets from their real lives? When the take ended and they could be themselves again…were they really out?

It opens up a lot of possibility about the other characters who’ve been spotlighted already. What could the horrors they peep be saying about the people controlling the puppets? Home showing Eddie the reality of his world, Sally knowing about the presence hunting them, Julie cracking under the pressure, even Wally and Frank’s ambiguous situations in all of this…it could all tie back to the humans who control these puppets. If I weren’t so tired I might go into more depth about it, but it’s an interesting idea.

#daily life with blue #welcome home #welcome home arg #poppy partridge #eddie dear #sally starlet #julie joyful #wally darling #frank frankly #tw depersonalization

386 notes · View notes

misteria247 · 3 months ago

Text

Frank could admit to his supposed flaws. Out of all the neighbors, he was the one who was the most prickly, so to speak. He went with logic rather than feelings and was the polar opposite of his best friend Julie. He could admit that his snippy personality could make him difficult to be around. That it could make him unapproachable to some. Yet he wasn't an unreasonable man or puppet. But at the moment.....

'I'm gonna start killing people.'

The grey puppet thought briefly as he grounded his teeth to not get into an argument. Praying to any deity out there to give him some patience. To spare his last nerve that was on its last leg. Across from him was Barnaby, the large blue dog puppet looking just as annoyed despite his easy-going grin.

"I just don't think it's a good idea exposing us."

The larger male said his tone lazy but firm. Frank took a deep breath, reminding himself that Barnaby was only thinking about the others. Just like himself.

"We can't keep this hidden forever. Sooner or later (Y/N) is gonna find out about us. And I think it'd be wise if we eased them into this rather than spring it on them."

Frank explained, trying to get Barnaby to see what he was saying. Just as he'd been trying to in vain to get him to see for the past two days.

"And what makes you think that we can trust (Y/N)?"

Howdy piped up, ever the question asker as much as a salesman. His eyes were narrowed a bit, staring Frank down. The smaller puppet wasn't phased, but he didn't respond. He didn't know how to convey that just from watching you for these past few weeks, he'd just got this gut feeling that you were trustworthy. Not in a way that was the logical manner that he was known for.

"Because they've been fixing us up! Despite all the bumps and road blocks, (Y/N) has done nothing but put us first! If they're willing to fix us old puppets, then I'm sure they're trustworthy!"

Julie chimed in, speaking Frank's thoughts exactly.

"I mean, look at my dress! My hair! Eddie's mailbag and Poppy's feathers! For goodness sake, they'd cleaned you up Howdy! And they just finished Frank's vest!"

The chipper puppet explained, holding the end of her red dress to show your handy work. The tears and holes that once littered the skirt were now patched up with adorable flower styled patches that were sewed on and ironed on. Some of them looked a bit bad, but they were stable enough to stay in place until you could figure out how to make them look better. Yet it was clear that they were done with care. And you'd gotten quite a few burns and pricks from trying to fix it. Poppy, who'd been quiet, jumped a bit, her feathers looking much better since their arrival to your home.

'Countless hours spent preening and fixing those feathers.'

Frank noted remembering how long it'd taken you to get the worst ones out.

"Julie darling....just because they fixed us doesn't mean that they're trustworthy with this."

Sally replied, sounding like she was exhausted and uninterested. The actor was next to Poppy, looking rather unimpressed with Julie's arguments.

"Now, now, let's not fight, please. This is a discussion, not an argument."

Poppy said, ever, the motherly one, as she sensed the possibility of an argument brewing. Julie, who had opened her mouth to reply, closed it, and Sally just sighed, not commenting.

"Well.....I don't know about you and Ms. Starlet, but I agree with Mr. Frankly and Ms. Joyful. (L/N) has been nothing but thoughtful. I think if we just explained, they'd understand."

Eddie, who hadn't really given his stance, put in. Frank looked at the larger mailman, who was nervous but steady in his words. Not wanting to stare too long, he quickly looked away.

"This could end badly if we tell them, you three realize this, right??"

Howdy asked his tone, judging.

"Howdy is onto something, pal. I'm not saying that (Y/N) is a bad person, but they're not him. Humans aren't always nice."

Barnaby threw in, looking a bit regretful at Julie and Eddie's expressions falling. Poppy and Sally didn't say anything else, but by their expressions, they were taking Barnaby and Howdy's words into consideration. Frank wanted to tear his hair out because he understood where they were coming from. He knew humans sometimes were not kind, especially to people or things who were different. But he couldn't give up. Something within him just couldn't let himself completely agree.

Not after watching you fix and clean them. Not after having you talk to him, always friendly save for when you were tired from work and other things. Not after watching you burn, cut, and prick your fingers and hands so much just to make them look better. Everything you did, it just screamed kindness. He wanted to give you a chance to be eased into this, not be taken by surprise.

You deserved that much, at least.

Frank steeled himself to again argue his, Julie, and Eddie's case on trusting you when a voice spoke up.

"No, they're not him. (Y/N) won't ever be him, but........they have his kindness. They've spoken to us and treated us like living beings. I think.....that they can be trusted."

Wally, who had been silent the entire time, had caused them all to quiet down and look at him. The smaller yellow puppet was calmly sitting on your armchair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Frank could see the others' expressions becoming resigned despite their displeasure. While Julie and Eddie perked up immediately at another one of their group agreeing.

"Wally buddy...."

Barnaby started to say, but Wally looking at him with a head tilt, quietly listening to his best friend, made him stop. The dog puppet just gave a sigh, knowing that Wally wasn't one to put his opinion in unless he was sure. And trying to change his mind was futile.

"I don't like this. You better think of a plan on how to do this, Frank..."

Barnaby said, gaze boring into him. Frank just thinned his mouth, meeting it head on.

"I always have a plan, Barnaby. I'm a bit offended you'd think otherwise."

253 notes · View notes

lucky13cat · 3 months ago

Text

Frank is just settling back into the Pitt. He's been there a good few months now after everything (rehab, the separation, Fourth of July shift back from hell, the divorce in that order). He's got routines now. He's less edgy, and everyone around him is starting to rebuild their relationships with him.

Mel is a godsend. She'd visited him in rehab, visited him after when he was still trying to convince Robby and the hospital to take him back, and she'd stuck by him since he came back. She's probably his best friend.

Which is why he is the worst person alive because he's 99% sure he's in love with her. Just totally gone for her.

No one has noticed is the thing. Frank's not sure how he was acting before this worldview shattering revelation hit him, but clearly, he'd been acting besotted the entire time. Meaning no one noticed when he notices!

It's good. He's good. He's not going to act on his feelings. Not because of Mel. No. She's amazing, and she definitely deserves way better than a divorced addict who barely managed to keep his job and career. He's going to keep all of his romantic feelings locked down in his chest, and then hopefully, one day, he'd die (yeah, his therapist is doing their best with him). It's fine. He's good.

He is so good, in fact, that he doesn't even lose his mind when on Christmas Eve Mel's fiance comes into the ED.

Ex-fiance, technically. But semantics and all that. At one point, the guy getting blood all over his ten thousand dollar suit was going to marry Mel, and judging by the wonderstruck look in his eyes, he's still in love with her. Frank wants to go scream on the roof.

Ex-fiance had gotten into a car accident heading back to his hotel or something, the details mattered less and less in Frank's mind as the revelations kept knocking him over the head, and Frank now had the dubious honor of plucking all of the glass from his face and arm. A task that normally Mel would take over with a bright gleam in her eye. Except the moment Mel had caught sight of her ex and heard him call her name, she'd vanished. Poof, gone. Leaving Frank to sit here picking out glass and trying very hard not to snap at the man for asking a thousand questions about Mel.

What feels like every person who works at PTMC stops by to see Mel's ex. Even Garcia shows up when Frank definitely did not request a consult. She pats his shoulder before leaving, something she'd never done not even the time she'd visited him in rehab. Frank's will to live keeps decreasing.

Finally, Frank is released from his torture, sorry his task, and he can go find Mel. He finds her in the ambulance bay mouthing along to a Megan Thee Stallion song and shaking in a way that had nothing to do with the freezing cold wind blowing through.

He sits down next to her trying to share body heat. To keep both of them from getting frostbite, obviously. (Obviously.) He doesn't ask any questions. He just sits with her, and very slowly, the shaking stops. Mel opens her mouth, and the whole story floods out.

She'd met Patrick in her third year of undergrad. He'd been a fourth year about to graduate and head off to law school. When he'd gotten into the law school connected to the college, they'd moved in together. Her mom had still been alive and taking care of Becca. Mel had said this with the same delicate voice she always used when she spoke of her mother. Frank wrapped his arm around her shoulders and resisted the urge to press a kiss to her temple.

Patrick was sweet. He was from Connecticut but had gone south for school. He'd asked her to marry him a month after she'd graduated undergrad. The plan was for him to finish up law school, work a bit, and then they'd get married before Mel started her third year of med school. They'd had a summer date all picked out and everything.

Just after her first year ended, Mel's mom died.

Everything had changed. Mel was now balancing being Becca's primary caretaker with school. Patrick kept pushing the wedding, thinking she needed a distraction. Which had been the opposite of helpful. Pretty soon it just became all too much. Mel had broken down four months before the wedding. Given back the ring and blocked Patrick's number when he just kept calling and calling and calling. She'd buried herself in school and taking care of Becca ever since. And now, Patrick was here, dragging everything back up.

By the time, Mel's gotten her whole story out, Frank's pretty sure they've gone well past their union mandated break, but since no one's come to find them and their pagers have been quiet, he doesn't care.

Frank's also pretty sure offering to kick Patrick out of the ED with some made-up excuse about harassment wouldn't help, but he still tucks the idea away with all of the other urges he talks through with his hospital mandated therapist. He does offer Mel comfort, though, and by the end of it, she's smiling again. A win for him, really.

At some point, they do head back inside because they're definitely needed and definitely going to get hypothermia if they stay outside any longer. Frank squeezes her hand before they separate.

When Robby comes by to check in like he does whenever someone informs him that Frank is acting especially annoyed and manic, Frank forces a very neutral expression on his face and tells him he just needed some air before checking on his patients. Judging by the lines on Robby's face, he doesn't believe Frank, but both of them get back to work without actually talking about the problem.

He checks on Patrick because they'd gotten his CT results back, but they were still waiting on one or two more tests before they could discharge. Then a pile up on one of the bridges sends the Pitt into chaos, and he forgets about Patrick until the last of the patients gets sent up to surgery. He'd been bouncing between patients brain far too busy to focus on anything but helping.

Frank catches sight of Mel speaking to Patrick about an hour later. She's twisting her hands in front of her chest, clearly uncomfortable. Frank resists the urge to walk over and ask for her help on another case, any case really. Just an excuse to get her to stop looking so upset. He shakes his head. He's her friend, and as much as he loves her (is desperately in love with her), he can't fight all of her battles for her, nor would she appreciate it if he tried.

Their shift draws closer and closer to an end, and Frank finally puts together Patrick's discharge papers. Mel goes with him, and he doesn't say anything even though this isn't technically her patient. Closure is important, and Mel deserves it.

There's a woman standing at Patrick's side. Blonde hair, similar height to Mel. Pretty in an intellectual way he guesses. She's holding his hand speaking to him softly.

Frank inserts himself into the conversation then very abruptly bringing up the discharge papers. Patrick and the blonde woman, his girlfriend apparently, leave, but not before he says something very quietly to Mel that has her eyes going as wide as Frank's ever seen them. Frank is definitely not wondering with his entire mind, body, and soul what he said. Nope.

The pair leave. Mel and Frank stand next to each other. Mel's worrying at her nails in the way Frank knows means she's deep in thought about something. Robby starts walking towards them only to be waylaid by Collins and Dana.

Mel opens her mouth and asks if Frank would like to go on a date with her.

#frank's an idiot everyone noticed and they were for sure talking about it #but it was clear frank was steadier around mel so everyone averted their eyes #robby didn't notice anything until collins pointed it out to him during the entire exfiance fiasco so no confrontation there #yes i chose Patrick as the name knowing the actor's name i think I'm very funny actually #yes everyone was in fact stopping by because Patrick was Frank's literal doppelganger and no one would believe it until they saw it #garcia is frank's work worstie but is lowkey a good friend to him outside of work fight me on this #the pitt #kingdon #melfrank #mel x frank #langdonmel #mel king #frank langdon

233 notes · View notes

saturngas · 1 year ago

Text

never leave me

[🪐] gojo has a very realistic dream about you leaving him and he goes insane

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: angsty with confort <3

warnings: established relationship; there is a lot of angst; but also a lot of confort; fluff; insecure!gojo; clingy!gojo; a bit possessive!gojo; again me breaking down gojo's character bc im tired of the mischaracterization (hope im not doing it or ill kms); not thoroughly beta-read but ill do it asap;

word count: 3.1k

it felt real. way too real.

the setting was gloomy, as the clouds concealed thoroughly the warm sun rays, making the environment appear more grayish as it was unusual for the hot summer season that enveloped the vivid city of tokyo. you and satoru were walking down the streets, making time before the sumida river fireworks festival that was held late in July. however it was still the middle of June. was this timing correct?

you were wearing the newest sundress satoru had proudly bought you with the biggest grin. you looked great in it, certainly making satoru blush each time he glanced down at you. but wait, wasn't the sundress white? why is it all of the sudden a cooler shade of blue?

the ice cream you were holding changed to a box, which was immediately recognized by satoru. it was the jewelry box that contained the most precious purchase he had recently made: the engagement ring you weren't supposed to see—or even know the existence of—. satoru is still thinking about the perfect place and time to ask you the question he considered the most important of all his life.

his blue eyes were too focused on the ring box that he completely missed your words. as he shifted his gaze on you to listen carefully, he still couldn't make out your words. your voice pitch was totally off.

and as he blinked, now you were standing in front of him at least ten meters away. your whole frame in sight. you no longer wore the color-changing sundress. dark ambivalent shades decorated your figure, being unable to even determine your legs and arms. your face being the only clear piece of you.

satoru panicked. the cold sweat he felt running down his neck and arms felt too real. he knew the view in front of him could be—to one point—false; however his feelings were genuine.

one of his arms reached out to you, as if to grab your form, only for you to grow further. but as if there were amplifiers all around his head, your voice buzzed through his external auditory canal, stimulating his eighth cranial nerve.

"i dont want to be with you."

"you always act like a child, ive been putting up with you for years. im tired now."

"ive found someone else. someone who has time for me and our relationship."

"this isn't exactly your fault. you can't control being the strongest and everyone needing you. but can't you see I need you too?"

"you leave me alone too much."

"are you seriously planning to marry me? you dont even have time for me as a boyfriend and you want to be my husband?"

"haven't you noticed im slowly drifting away? I dont want this anymore."

"im tired of your nonexistent time for me."

"im tired of this relationship."

"im tired of you."

it was your voice declaring all those statements. but satoru knew where they were coming from. the island full of insecurities that was deep in the back of his consciousness was expressing the most oppressed feelings he had. his easy going facade did an excellent job concealing his self-doubt in real life, making difficult for someone to accept the fact the strongest sorcerer had insecurities.

even so, he was a natural emotionally-closed person. the long months of attempting to open up to you at the beginning of your relationship were very difficult to him. even with his former best friend, suguru geto, satoru wasn't completely frank.

he knew he was a good boyfriend, at least acceptable, to you. once he bestowed his heart to you, he was yours, giving you his all.

still he felt insufficient.

the time dedicated to your relationship took a sharp turned when he started attending his obligations as the strongest sorcerer. he wanted to give you more of his honored time. he wanted to be fully devoted to you. however his status in the sorcery society fell in between you two.

satoru was afraid one day you would finally snap, disregarding completely of your relationship with him.

your voice materialized in front of him in the form of your figure again, your limps now distinguished. he couldn't exactly make out your expression as it was drawn between sorrow, tiredness, and frustration. your hand spanned toward him, handing him the ring box you were still holding.

"I won't," was all you said as you turned away, no other words following your unmoving lips. it was the answer for a question satoru had been picturing himself asking you: will you marry me?.

he only caught a glimpse of your face, emotions unchanged, until you departed. your hair was the last thing he identified as literal darkness danced around you, metaphorical darkness invading his heart and soul.

the setting was back to the bleak tokyo. the pitch black sky lacked its most trusted companions: the stars, as the new moon was merged within the loneliness of the murky sky. faceless pedestrians walked mindlessly around the lone tall man while others stared at the sky where the fireworks were being displayed, though their bright colors were absent and the blast was silent.

the innate technique limitless has always been a wall between satoru gojo and the rest of the world. even when he mastered it as a teen to be able to use it automatically instead of manually, satoru has been isolating himself. sometimes deliberately, other times unconsciously.

he knows what his dream means. he knows he is afraid of losing you, the person he loves the most. after witnessing at first instance the departure of what used to be his best friend into immorality and radical idealisms, going through a bitter break up of his friendship, satoru realizes he fears you would do the same.

as blackness coats what he thinks is his range of vision and light passes through the slim skin of his eyelids, satoru regains consciousness. his body feels cramped, as if he would have fought a special grade curse without stretching his limbs first. his neck is sore from the awkward position he is in.

the tall man´s strong body is facing the wall, placed in a fetal position, almost hugging himself. his high cheekbones feel wet. the soft touch of his lifted hand confirms he had cried during his dream—actually, nightmare.

the visions of his nightmare still present in his mindfulness, recreations of the pictures he saw—lived—so vividly in the dream play at the back of his mind whenever he tries to close his sensitive eyes. then he realizes.

you.

where is she? is she still with me? she hasn't gone to any place? she didn't leave? anxiety and panic rush through his body as he hastily turns to face the other side of the marital bed.

oh.

you are still there, stirring slightly at the sudden wave movements satoru caused. you are still sound sleep, your chest meeting the soft mattress below you, arms spangled plastered on the pillow you were pleasantly drooling over.

satoru feels his heartbeat decrease to a normal rate, his lungs no longer burning with the sensation of a upcoming panic attack. was he seriously going to have a panic attack over thinking you would leave him? yes. ten thousand yes.

even when he has you, his students, and his coworkers who sometimes seem to not be entirely fond of the tall man, satoru still feels alone. alone in this world of sorcery. he is in another level even as a living organism. no other human being and sorcerer can compare to him. not right now when he thinks he isn't over discovering more of his honorable traits.

but he is over that strength moral compass his best friend had doubted some years ago. he got over it when he met you. satoru was convinced he was satoru gojo because he was the strongest. but you proved him wrong when you started loving him for being just satoru gojo, not for being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, the head of the gojo clan, or the supreme entity he was supposed to reach. you love him for the person he is, his personality, and his heart.

he knew that, right?

maybe he needed a bit of assurance.

strong arms envelop around your smaller form, your boyfriend getting on top of you without crushing you. soft lips dance around your ear and neck, tickling you to awareness.

your gentle giggles and whimpers fill satoru's brain of serotonin, a big toothy grin flashing his pretty face.

"good morning, my queen."

you stir in your place as you try to pull the over 180-pound weight off you. however, satoru clings his arms around you even more, his hands going to your mid area, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him. you are on your side with your back brushing his hard chest.

"don't leave my arms, please," he shares in one single exhale, his breath caressing your neck. you just know there is a lot more behind those words. you have learned to read your boyfriend like a book.

still, you don't want to disturb him. you know his book doesn't like being forcefully opened, because his pages are stuck to each other and are difficult to separate. you let him absorb your presence and wait patiently for him to uncover his feelings to you.

it has been out of routine, actually—the way satoru has been acting around you and only you lately.

if you have to word it out, it would be clingy, clingier, clingier than ever, though you have caught him acting his usual same with his students and coworkers. not once wanting to leave your presence, almost as his atoms would undergo unconventional transformations if he isn't breathing the same air within your range.

you were buying groceries and your boyfriend decided to tag along. of course you didn't mind, but it definitely took you out since it wasn't his day off and he had an appointment to train his students. satoru completely disregarded of said students which was such very strange situation since he loved them. guess he loves me more? you questioned. he couldn't keep his hands off you, almost as if you were to run away at any given chance. your boyfriend was usually handsy, but it surprised you when you passed through the candy hall that satoru's touch on you didn't even budge. he would usually go running and pick his favorite sweet provisions.

when you were called to a meeting, satoru followed you. it was shocking seeing satoru gojo—the progressive sorcerer who hated the higher ups—in such meeting. but it was to be with you, holding your arm tightly as his mind drifted away in other thoughts, not hearing a single word of the meeting. his ears would only spiked at the sound of your voice or the call of your name, listening in for a few second to make sure those old geezers were respecting your living form.

satoru would ask vigorously to be of company during your missions. you thought it was cute. maybe he wants to make up for the wasted time, you would assume. and you were partially right, considering that satoru also did it to protect you with his mere presence—it being his innate technique wrapping around you, or his strong cursed energy forcing the curses to escape and hide pitifully.

satoru's existence has been constant around you lately: not leaving you unattended for more than five minutes when going out, going everywhere with you along him, always having an arm securely attached to your waist or shoulders, his limitless isolating you from the world. it was almost becoming overwhelming to say the least. you loved satoru with all your life and the remaining lives left for you, but his persistent company was a bit too much.

you knew this wasn't some jealousy attack he had, proving everyone his possession over you. no, that wasn't characteristic of the man. perhaps satoru was having some resentment over leaving you alone so much? or perhaps he was having a fit of insecurities? it didn't happen often, but it had happened before.

a mush of white hair adorns your chest as you two are plastered on you shared bed, watching a reality show about a family of overly successful women. well, it is actually just you watching, since your boyfriend has his sensitive eyes closed. one of your hands underneath his shirt and the other is caressing his scalp at such low pace, satoru was almost drifting to sleep. your fingers are tangled in his mess of hair. your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your tightly, as well as his long legs.

he isn't focused on the tv show, his mind picturing you leaving him, making his heart race abruptly and his breathing catch in his throat. his traitorous head has been torturing him over and over for the past three weeks. after that super realistic dream, no, nightmare, satoru has been anything but calm. anxiety plotting against him, making him believe the longer you are alone—without him—the more chances of you living him.

"oh my, I can't believe they didn't invite her ex-boyfriend to their family reunion. he is the father of the baby anyway!" you exclaim as the tv screen turns black showing the end credits, a rectangular button displaying at the right lower corner to go to the next episode. you moved your hand off your boyfriend's head to grab the remote. you immediately hear a low mumble coming from him.

"sorry, baby what did you say?" your eyes scan his face as you question him. the unmistakable pout and frown on his face goes noticed by you. "what's going on, toru?" you ask as softly as possible, both hands now grabbing his soft cheeks, making him look at you.

a groan now escapes from his lips as he moves his neck to position his chin on your sternum, facing you. satoru opens his eyes, bloodshot and glassy.

"satoru, are you okay my love?" tenderness paints your voice as you speak, a delicate finger whisking off the small eye crust on his left eye. "where you crying? is there something you want to tell me?" you try as hard as possible to linger the softness in your voice.

the sorcerer says your name in a whisper, suddenly feeling smaller under your constant gaze, eyes minding his surroundings. his blue orbs return again to you after a few seconds of thinking his response. "i... had a nightmare," you stay quiet to let him continue. "im sorry for not telling you earlier and acting so... irritating over the past weeks."

satoru sounds genuinely troubled, as in asking for forgiveness after committing the most atrocious crime of all time. your hands on his cheeks hold him tighter to bring his face close to yours, brushing your lips with his in a chaste but loving kiss.

"you dont have to apologize for that, toru," your lips graze his as you speak. "I just want to know why, if you want to, of course." you propose sheepishly, you still dont want to push him.

his concerned blue eyes look away once more, finding the correct words. "i... dreamed about you leaving me, after saying things that... were hurtful..." satoru actually sounded distressed and devastated. you immediately dismiss this as one of his tricks to be clingier to you and make you baby him. he is slowly opening up.

"we were in a festival and then everything went pitch black as you told me I wasn't good enough to be your boyfriend," he continues, his arms losing a bit of their grip on you. "I actually felt... anxious, and stressed about you actually leaving, so I guess I made myself... believe that if im with you all the time you wouldn't think that."

"think what satoru?"

"well..." the tall man is a bit uncomfortable, not because he was with you, but because he was opening his locked heart. "you said you were tired of me leaving you alone so much, that you were seeking someone else—someone better. you said you were tired of our relationship..." his gloomy voice saddens your ears. "you said you didn't even want to marr—" satoru cuts his words before completing his sentence. it comes out as a mumble so you luckily dont hear it.

"oh my big baby..." you sing as you hug him with all your mighty force. satoru almost feels his bones crackling at your demonstration of love. he then realizes he doesn't need to say more. you have understood him. the thing he craved the most.

he didn't need someone to match his strength, he was happy living as the strongest, he was proud of the title, sometimes even filling up his overly boosted ego. but he wanted—needed—someone to understand him, his feelings, his emotions, his position. he learns you dont need to be as strong as him, as powerful as him, as inhuman as him, to understand him, since your mere and pure love for him is sufficient to empathize with him.

satoru is lucky to have you, he knows that. he can be all of him to you—the strongest, satoru gojo, the head of the gojo clan, the beholder of the legendary six eyes and limitless, gojo-sensei. he can be all of himself to you or even a portion of him. and you would still receive him with open arms and a loving heart.

even when it took him almost three weeks to open up, you still waited and listened to him. you understood that he wanted more physical assurance than verbal assurance, your big bear hug becoming more meaningful than the thousand words you could have told him.

satoru comprehends he loves you just as much when he realizes and comes to his senses that he does not want to leave you and he fears the idea of you leaving him. he suffered lost once with his best friend, he got through it, but he doesn't believe he will be able to do it again if this time it is you who drifts away.

if it were up to him, you would be with him covered up in his limitless technique, isolating you both from the word. but he can't be that selfish and insecure about your commitment and devotion to him.

satoru then realizes his choice of marrying you is the correct one. as your long hug continues, your hands caressing his back and his rubbing your sides, satoru thinks of the pretty ring sitting in the box of his sorcery uniform, ready to be pulled out and worn by your pretty finger.

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks

#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst

734 notes · View notes

dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 1 month ago

Note

I'm in a bit of a fluffy mood, and I hope this isn't too weird, but these puppets are SO cute that I wish that I could just give them a bunch of kisses! Hands, face, head, doesn't matter to me! I NEED to hug them all so bad!

Anon, you have no idea what you've done >:)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Giving them all kisses

Wally

Wally looks at you with his eyes blown wide. Pupils dilating as his mind catches up. "Oh. I liked that!" If you stop, he gazes at you with a soft smile. "You can do that again if you want..." Not wanting you to stop.

Barnaby

His grin grows even wider than before. Then pretends to be confused. "Hey! What's the big idea here?" Teasing you. Before leaning in and returning the favor. With a big, exaggerated smooch, right on top of your head.

Howdy

You can feel Howdy stiffen up under your hold. Clearly caught off guard. Though he quickly relaxes. A slow, warm, chuckle comes from his chest as he tilts his head. Giving you easier access. He seems less flustered and more flattered.

Julie

She practically squeals with excitement. “Eeee! You’re so cute!” Shaking her arms in a flapping motion. Julie returns the affection tenfold. Holding your head in her hands to get just the right angle. And peppering you with light kisses.

Frank

He's very flustered. But tries to hide his smirk with a hand. "You're too much!" Frank seems particularly fond of hand kisses. Probably because he cant hide his flushed face. Something about the gesture makes him feel special.

Poppy

She fluffs up. "Oh! Goodness!" Clearly flustered. Not asking for more, but certainly not complaining if you continue. When she returns the affection, Poppy is quick. Giving you a gentle peck on the hand or cheek before looking away. Just a little embarrassed.

Sally

The moment you press a kiss to her forehead, her cheeks glow. Not just figuratively. But literally. "How romantic!” She’s clearly playing it up, but the blush is very genuine. She loves to be adored. But this? This is way better.

Eddie

When you got close to him, he opened his arms. Assuming you were going in for a hug. When you shower him with kisses instead, he gasps. Placing a hand over where his heart would be. He doesn't mind the attention, quite the opposite really. You just startled him.

207 notes · View notes

pboogerswbb · 3 months ago

Text

SO IT GOES - chapter 16

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: TREY, minor injury, language, drinking, violence, ptsd, angst, not proofread Wordcount: 7K A/C: and if i tell you i debated between this song and cruel summer by taylor swift for this chapter lmao. anyway... my apologies in advance i love y'all

Before London

Smoothing over my dark brown sheath dress I watch the elevator ascend each floor. 10, 11, 13, 14 - finally 15 and with a ding the doors open. My heels clack on the marble, echoing around the floor as I walk assertively along the hallway, holding my black leather purse on my shoulder. Finally I come to the right door.

Linda Halford Managing Media Director Dallas Wings

Allowing myself one deep breath, I exhale to compose myself before knocking on the door. Linda had called me last night, interrupting the carefully planned moment I had prepared myself to finally read. One thing I knew for sure was that impromptu meetings with the boss rarely meant anything good.

Maybe she had seen the countless fan edits of me and Paige, the comments under posts and the clips filmed by other people - the lingering gazes and gentle touches we thought we were keeping hidden. It turns out not being able to show care and tenderness to those you love takes a lot of brain power. I wasn’t strong enough, my body pulled to her like a magnet. It wasn’t on purpose when I stood next to her and leaned my shoulder against hers. And I knew it wasn’t on purpose when Paige walked by me and her hand lingered on my lower back, brushed against my fingers. But all of this the fans had noticed. We had become their favourite subject of study. It felt as if millions of eyes were on us constantly. And I guess technically they were.

“Izara, hello, always so stylish,” Linda gives me a rare smile, letting me into her office. I had never been in there before and from what I’d heard, not many others had either.

“Hey Linda,” I smile. It didn’t bother me anymore that she used my name. I had gotten used to it. Linda did what she wanted, she had no interest in pleasing you and in a city that was overly warm and nice all the time I appreciated it.

“Please, have a seat,” she says seriously. I follow her to the desk, carefully sitting down on the black leather and pulling out my calendar, assuming optimistically that this would be some sort of posting schedule discussion. “No, no, you won’t be needing your calendar.”

“Oh, right,” I mumble, gulping as I put it down with my bag on the ground.

For a moment Linda merely looks at me with an impression I can not read for the life of me.

“Gosh, how will I get all my employees to dress like you,” she smiles - her attempt at a joke.

“I would rather not see Trey in a dress like this,” I joke to lighten the mood and to my surprise the older woman laughs.

“You’re correct, very much so,” she grins, opening a folder. My folder full of evaluations and content I had produced. “So, you’ve been here for a little over three months. How are you enjoying Dallas in july?”

“It’s very warm,” I immediately respond, already feeling the stickiness on my back grow. “People are very nice.”

“It’s tiring sometimes, isn’t it? The niceness.”

I’m surprised by her frankness. “Definitely.”

“But you’ve liked working here?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation. And it was true. My old office job paid more, was more steady, the hours were better. But being on the road with the team, getting to be a part of a community had become much more important to me. I preferred it this way. “I love it.”

Linda smiles slightly. “It shows. I called you in because you have absolutely exceeded our expectations.”

“I have?” I ask, shocked. Was Linda praising me?

She nods proudly, scrolling through the media statistics on her computer. “Absolutely. And I will admit, I have a soft spot on you.”

I correct my posture, surprised by what I’m hearing. I didn’t think Linda would have a soft spot on anyone. In my head she didn’t even have a soft spot on her husband.

“My colleagues did not want to hire you when we were looking for a content producer. You were too young and inexperienced, but I saw something in you,” she explains, looking into my eyes. “Guts. You had a comfortable, well paying job and you wanted more. That takes courage. I appreciate that. You flipped your whole life around to come here.”

That was probably the first time anyone’s ever told me I have guts. I was always being told I was too careful, that I should take more chances, yet when I told my family I was moving to Dallas they told me I was being stupid, careless. It felt good to get that validation from someone. Izara Chopra has guts, everyone. Who would’ve thought.

“So, what are your plans for the future? Where do you see yourself in five years?” Linda asks, leaning forward in her power suit. Quite honestly this might have been the first time in ten years where I didn’t have a five year plan which both terrified and exhilarated me.

“Let me be frank, I don’t really know,” I admit. “I love it in Dallas, I would definitely love to stay in America, perhaps even get to work in a few more places around here. On the west coast, maybe?”

Linda nods, a surprising friendliness on her face. “I see. Well, the media teams are really connected, I would be sad to see you go but I’m sure after a couple years I could get you a position for the Sparks or the Valkyries.”

My eyes widen as I listen. In a couple years? Does that mean…?

“Maybe go elsewhere for a season, see what you like, return here and we find a higher-ranking position for you. Now maybe I shouldn’t say this but I could see you taking over my position Izara,” Linda continues casually.

“S-so you’d like me back for the next season?” I ask surprised.

Linda chuckles, nodding as if it were obvious. “Oh of course! I think after next season we could be talking about a permanent move to the states? If that’s something you’d like?”

I feel dumbfounded, unable to speak, blinking at the older woman stupidly. Get a grip and say something, my gosh.

“Yes! I would very much like that,” I gasp. Linda smiles and offers me her hand. I reach over and shake it, both our handshakes as firm as each other’s.

“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll make sure you’re part of the team next season myself.”

It’s like the crowd is closing in as I thread the ball between my legs. It’s okay though, because we’re leading by 12 points and Olivia Miles has that look on her face that says I’m getting under her skin. Good.

The tension between us had quickly become a media narrative. Angel Reece and Caitlin Clark all over again. Except I shut that racist shit down real quick. I respected Liv, I did. And I know she respected me. But there was a lot unsaid between us - I felt jealous of her solid start to the season and how quickly she had adapted to the league, she on the other hand was growing resentful over the way my name had become a serious contender for ROTY. It put pressure on her, which was making her lose her composure. It was making every block personal, every foul call, every made three felt like salt in an open wound. And then the game would be over and we’d have to rewatch the clips and answer questions about our ”rivalry” over and over, just building on that underlying frustration even more.

Arike was teaching me that it was okay to get mad and frustrated. That losing my composure wasn’t always a bad thing. But it went against the UConn way, and it felt impossible to let that go. Except today, too much irritation had built inside me turning into a level of drive I hadn’t felt in a while.

Feeling cocky over our lead, I dribble the ball to the arc and merely shoot over Miles. The swat of her hand taps my wrist, alerting the shot. The ball hits the rim. Expectantly I turn to the ref who merely begins jogging the other way.

”Bro what the fuck?” I yell mostly to myself. Arike taps me on the shoulder as she jogs past me - an attempt to ground me and to let it go. But all game this one particular ref had looked the other way, allowed the players - particularly Miles, to hold onto my jersey, flicking her hand all over my face, slapping at my arms from every direction. Not a single whistle. It felt like UConn all over again. Except I didn’t have my patience, and it was starting to get on my nerves.

Groaning and throwing my head back like a petulant child, I run after Miles, guarding her to the best of my ability. Just seeing her face was enough to piss me off. I needed to get a stop. I needed to get this ball from her.

Finding an opportunity, I get the steal. I begin my race to the basket with Olivia at my feet, breathing down my neck. Speeding up, I curve to the right hoping to find someone to pass quickly when Miles bumps into me. Hard.

I don’t know what happens, feeling my body hit the floor followed by my head slamming against the hardwood. My ears ring when Olivia’s body crashes on top of mine, her elbow digging into my ribs. The pain explodes into anger. And it’s enough to make me snap.

Pushing Miles off of me, she quickly gets pulled up by her teammates. I rise just as fast, and in a haze of emotion and pain I charge at Olivia, my chest heaving as I shove her shoulder. It’s as if in slow motion when she turns to me and tries to shove back but her teammates get to her first, holding her back.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” Liv yells, only making me angrier. The refs run to us, my team suddenly surrounding me and holding me back as I try to shake free.

“Paige, yo,” Satou tries grounding me but it’s no use. And I hear the shrill of the whistle. And I already know it without even looking up.

“The first technical foul of her career to Paige Bueckers. Certainly won’t be the last as composed and poised of a player as she is.”

“Fucking shit,” I groan again, seeing Chris in the sidelines shaking his head and looking up disapprovingly. Someone’s holding Arike back too, who’s cussing at Miles from behind my back. I taste something metallic in my mouth. I finally notice the throbbing pain in my nose, I wipe it to notice blood that’s been dripping down my nose, to my jaw and neck.

“Bueckers,” Chris yells, waving me over. I’m trembling with anger, mixed with pain and aching all over my body and the stickiness of the sweat dripping all over me. I jog over, not even looking at him. “Get that taken care of,” he mumbles as I walk past, but doesn’t pat me on the shoulder like he usually does. It hurts. Geno being done with you happened on the daily, he was in a constant mode of always disappointed. But Chris? It was rare. And I had let him down. If it just wasn’t for those damn whistles.

I sit down at the end of the bench, watching the girls try to calm down Arike on the court. I probably would’ve found her anger amusing if I wasn’t so pissed off myself. Leaning my head back, I grab the tissues being handed to me, holding them to my nose. Fucking shit. I got a tech. Holy fuck. I got a tech. Me.

A hand reaches to give me a bottle of water from behind me, placing a towel on my shoulder. I’m near to snapping when I recognise the familiar, low but soft voice.

“Hey.”

Turning my head I see Izzie, handing me fresh tissues while collecting the bloody ones for the medical team.

“You a watergirl now?” I ask in a dry voice, though it was becoming harder and harder to maintain my anger, her soothing presence immediately calming me. Iz chuckles.

“Is it broken?” She asks. I immediately shake my head.

“We haven’t checked yet,” a lady from the medical team points out, but I just shake my head.

“It’s fine, can I go back in?”

“We’ll have to check fi-”

“It’s fine. I’ma go back in,” I mumble and stand up - or I’m about to when Izzie sits me back down sternly by my shoulder. Of course I’m stronger than her, but saying no to her was hard. Impossible, even.

“Let them check,” she leans down and whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Defiantly, I lower the tissue and allow them to check. “Good girl.”

It was all worth letting her win just to hear that.

“Go interview her,” Trey pokes my side, pointing at Gabby Williams talking to the press post-game. “Why not?”

I’m more concerned about Paige and her nose, that was indeed not broken but her temper was running high today nevertheless. I kept glancing over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t getting involved in anything bad or making stupid decisions.

“Zari,” Trey whispers, shoving me playfully. “Let’s go.”

“What do I ask?” I mumble as the man technically shoves me in her direction.

“I dunno but Linda wanted us to start getting clips of other players too.”

I sigh, searching for any type of angle in my head when we get to the woman. I line up behind the other press nervously, waiting patiently for my turn when Gabby merely turns to me with a coy smile, skipping all the men in front of her waiting to ask questions.

“Hi Gabby, Izara from the Dallas Wings media team,” I introduce myself, Trey filming behind me.

“Hey, I remember seeing you before. You wore those boots last time we played you!” She grins, gazing down at me. “I was gonna come compliment you but I couldn’t find you.”

Oh yeah, the time Paige dragged me into a storage room and fucked me.

I chuckle a little, feeling heat spread to my cheeks at her comment. “Oh, thank you. I just wanted to ask you a question regarding Paige - We all saw the moment between Olivia and Paige in the third, what was your perspective on that exchange?”

“Wow, professional,” she chuckles, looking at the ground before meeting my gaze again. Her eyes are surprisingly intense as Gabby thinks of her answer. “Um, I mean those two have been motivating each other to be better and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Off the court they’re great friends but sometimes things just get heated in basketball.”

I nod at her answer, never moving my eyes away from her. I always knew she was beautiful but there was something truly breathtaking about her in person.

“Paige is known for her composure and poise on the court, did it surprise you to see that shift today?” I ask. Gabby just grins and shrugs.

“Not really, I knew it would be coming and one of them would snap at some point. She does have great poise but it’s good to see her letting go of that a little bit. I hope she’s not beating herself up for it,” she answers.

I chuckle a little, thinking of my next question. “What do you think Coach Auriemma is thinking right now?”

Gabby laughs heartily at this. “Honestly, probably just shaking his head and sending Paige some carefully chosen words.”

“Thank you so much,” I smile at the woman.

“I like your accent,” she smiles with a sparkle in her eye, looking me up and down subtly but not subtly enough where I don’t notice, before jogging off. She was flirting with me? She definitely was. Great. Like I needed the day to be more eventful.

Feeling slightly flustered I look around for my girlfriend, hoping she didn’t see. With her temper today, she didn’t need the added stress. As flattering as the flirting was, I was completely Paige’s. Even after the incident.

We hadn’t talked about it, matter of fact I made sure not to bring it up. I was becoming more and more convinced that she didn’t even remember saying those three words. It was a spur of the moment thing. It didn’t mean anything, she didn’t mean what she said. I knew that much. But just in case it wasn’t a one time thing, neither of us had touched the strap ever since those words. Actually we hadn’t really had sex at all ever since. I knew it was just an accident in the heat of the moment. It had to be. Because I didn’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t.

“Why don’t we just stay home bro?” I whine, sitting in our cab and staring out the window in my jean shorts and black sports bra, a white button-down thrown carelessly on to cover my arms.

“Because you need to blow off some steam Paige,” Izara scoffs, her nails tapping against the screen of her phone as she edits a TikTok video for the team. “And do not call me bro.”

“But I just wanna stay in,” I continue whining, pulling my pants down just enough for my boxers to peek out, hoping it would drive the woman beside me crazy. But she doesn’t even lift up her gaze. “You haven’t given me attention all day!”

Izzie rolls her eyes, waving me off by her hand. “I’ll give you attention when I’m done with this.”

“Ugh,” I groan dramatically, crossing my arms over my chest. It wasn’t even true. She had been taking care of me for an hour after the game, cooing at my poor achy nose, kissing on it, getting me ice and tissues. But it wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted. I needed her. She wasn’t wrong - I needed to blow off steam. Just not with alcohol. I needed her sitting on my face

It doesn’t help that it’s so hot and humid I want to die, my skin already sticky even though I showered an hour ago. What’s making it worse is she looks gorgeous in a white, skin hugging dress against her golden, glowing skin, natural waves falling down her back. Worst of all it had been over a week since we had sex and it wasn’t like us at all. But I knew I had been acting off, ever since the incident. I had been more distant, scared those words might slip out again, just as naturally as they did when I was buried inside her.

I don’t think she even heard the words, it was overwhelming - the sensations, the groaning, the skin slapping against one another. She probably didn’t hear a word. I’m sure if she had we would’ve had a discussion about it. Izzie loved to talk everything through. And I loved that about her. So I was 98% certain she didn’t hear me.

Still, the fear that she might’ve heard lingered, looming over me like a storm cloud. If she had heard she clearly didn’t want to talk about it or those three words. The idea of that filled me with dread. Because it would mean she didn’t feel the same. That I had become a fool in love who’s with a girl that won’t love me back. Because I did. Love her.

“Okay,” Izzie sighs, putting her phone down and finally meeting my gaze. “Done. Hi baby.”

“Hey,” I murmur back, reaching for her hands.

“How’s your nose?” She asks gently, her thumb stroking my palm.

“Achy,” I pout and blink at Izara. “I think it needs kissies.”

The girl rolls her eyes but with a smile, leans in and places a soft kiss on the bridge of my nose. “Better?” She whispers, fluttering her lashes at me.

“Mm, not yet mama,” I murmur, pulling her back in by the back of her head, guiding the girl to my lips this time. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to turn heated as our mouths clash. My free hand falls down her side to her bare thigh, fingertips digging the skin. Izzie sighs, breathing heavy into my mouth as we pull up to the club, the car stopping.

“I miss you,” I whisper. And she knows exactly what I mean.

“I miss you too,” Iz whimpers, pulling back to look around. “Let’s take care of that when we get home, okay? Just keep it in your pants till then.”

I nod, but it’s hard. Not just because I want her, but because I need her to want me the way I want her. Exhaling heavily, I lean back and dig out my card to pay the driver. Tonight would be torture, having to pretend to be just friends, ignoring the ache between my thighs.

The alcohol flowing through my blood is bringing heat to my cheeks, making my cheeks even redder. The club feels sticky, humid and hot. I hold the dirty shirley against my sweaty neck, the condensation dripping down between my breasts. The bottle girls giggle in my ear as they bring in bottles of champagne and buckets of ice to our reserved table, dressed in skintight clothes and micro shorts. I barely notice though, my blue eyes locked on Izara.

She’s sparkling, laughing animatedly as she speaks to Lala on the opposite side of the large table. It was my idea to sit apart from each other, but my God was it hard to remember why right now.

“Yoo, big P!” Trey grins as he scooches to sit next to me, dapping me up. I smile out of politeness, glancing at the man. Big P? Seriously?

“Hey Trey,” I mumble, sipping on the cold drink. “It’s so damn hot,” I complain, fanning myself.

“Tell me ‘bout it,” he agrees, manspreading as wide as I was underneath the table. The smell of his cologne hits my nostrils, already giving me a headache. “The refs today… Man. Unbelievable.”

I chuckle to myself. This might have been the most words he’d ever said to me. Maybe it had always had more to do with me avoiding him than Trey avoiding me. Either way I had a sudden feeling he was after something.

“Yeah, at least the nose isn’t broken so,” I reply, my perfect view of Izzie momentarily disrupted as a bottle girl walks by me with a tray full of shots. The dark haired girl notices the small glasses lining the table, clapping excitedly. I can’t help but laugh, watching her face brightening up the entire club. No one else existed - only her.

“Shots y’all!” She said in a surprisingly American way, reaching over the table to hand one to everyone.

“To Trey,” she smiles, sliding one to the man. “And to Paige.” I meet her green eyes, my heart fluttering at the joyous smile spread across her lips. Our fingers linger as I grab the shot, licking my lips as she leans over the table to get closer to me.

“Thanks,” I mumble softly, causing Izara’s cheeks to redden even more than they already had.

“You’re welcome,” she grins flirtatiously before grabbing one herself.

“Cheers to, uh,” she starts, clearly unsure what she was going to say. But it didn’t freak her out as it usually did, no she was happy to mumble up her words, to mess up a little. “To basketball..?”

Everyone bursts into laughter, Izzie included. I watch as she throws her head back, face twisting as the alcohol makes its way down her throat. Everyone follows, but not me. I can only watch her, toying with the shot glass between my fingertips.

“Goddamn,” Trey mutters beside me. “She sure is fine, huh? You ever notice?” I don’t need to even look at him to know who he’s talking about. Izzie. My Izzie. The Izzie I loved.

Grinding my teeth together a sudden burst of anger sizzles in my veins, trying to take over.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I murmur angrily, downing the shot to numb my nerves.

Trey keeps watching Izzie in adoration. I wanna strangle him. Instead, I opt for picking at my cuticles. Deep breaths Paige. The taste in my mouth turns metallic as I draw blood from my cheeks that I’m chewing on to calm down.

“High-maintenance for sure but for that face,” he grins, shaking his head as if in disbelief, “that body. She’s a knockout. Worth it.”

Arike, who had been listening to the conversation, grabs my arm before I get the chance to kill him and pulls me with her.

“More drinks Paige,” she doesn’t ask, but commands, making me follow after her. I inhale the cologne free air by the bar, feeling my temper easing up with each exhale.

“I would kill for some nic right now,” I groan mostly to myself, thinking back to the nights of being 16 and sneaking out of the house to drink cheap beer and smoke cigarettes at Parliament hill, watching over the entire view of London. Okay, I only did that once, but it was still a fond memory. Cigarettes were my vice, a single glass of wine enough to get me craving one - though I had much more alcohol in me than a glass of wine right now.

I could feel it in the ease I felt, not overthinking my behaviour, not calculating the things I said, the way I looked. But I also felt it in the way my body wanted to be close to Paige. I craved to feel her. I couldn’t wait for later, my core already aching for my girlfriend. But then a sudden dread washes over me. What if she says those words again? Or worse? What if she means them?

“I have a vape on me,” Trey, who had made his way to the seat next to me offers, nodding towards the smoking area.

I look around the table to look for the familiar blonde, only to find her engaged in discussion with Lou and Satou. She was so weird about Trey, convinced that my friend had something more than honourable intentions. I knew she was just jealous, though.

“Okay, sure,” I smile to the man, following after him. You would think that the slight drop in temperature would’ve been a nice change but the humidity was making up for it, causing sweat droplets to form down my thighs.

“It’s so hot,” I scoff, pushing my natural waves off my sticky face. “I feel like my makeup’s melting off my face.”

“I think you look beautiful,” Trey chuckles, finding a more quiet, desolate spot on the rooftop. “Don’t need all that stuff on your face.”

I want to groan, to roll my eyes. I hated when men gave backhanded compliments like that. “Thanks Trey,” I mumble, finishing my vodka soda. The man pulls out a vape out of his pocket, handing it to my first.

“Ladies first,” he grins, his warm fingertips brushing against mine as I grab it from his hands. I notice the goosebumps forming up his arms, causing the hair to rise. Must be the breeze.

“What a gentleman,” I joke, exhaling the sweet smelling smoke.

“Always,” Trey says, his voice more serious. “Speaking of being a gentleman, actually…”

I furrow my brows, taking a few more puffs before handing the vape back to Trey. He looks uncharacteristically nervous, downing his drink with shaky hands, looking down at the ground.

“You okay?” I ask, placing a caring hand on his forearm. The man calms down, raising his brown eyes to mine.

“Yeah, just… I mean everyone’s expecting it right?” He says. Expecting what?

Trey reads my confused expression, chuckling awkwardly. “I mean just, I dunno Izzie-”

Izzie? He never called me Izzie? He wasn’t allowed to.

“I’ve been thinking for a long time how to do this,” he mumbles nervously. “Part of me just wanted to dive in and take a chance and do something reckless-”

What the hell is he talking about? Feeling uneasy, I shift on my feet just slightly.

“So I waited for a sign. And you’ve been giving me plenty but I just needed to be a gentleman, and I have been,” he takes a deep breath and entangles his fingers with mine before I can react. “But I’m tired of waiting, Iz,” he exhales shakily.

“It’s been months and I think it’s time we take this to the next level, whatchu say baby?”

Baby? Hold on, what is going on?

“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever met,” his large hand presses against my jaw, holding it in place. I feel frozen, still utterly, entirely, confused. “I’ve been dying to taste these lips.”

With that, the man begins to lean in. He’s trying to kiss me. Trey is trying to kiss me.

In shock, I pull my hand away and push him off by his shoulder. At the same time, with Arike and Lou at her heels, Paige charges at the man, pushing him harder. I blink stupidly, my drunken brain attempting to follow what is going on. My stomach churns, bubbles forming in my gut, the taste of vodka lingering on my tongue.

Paige is furious, Arike standing between the two. Trey’s eyes are wide, clearly confused. Oh dear God what is Paige doing? She’s causing a scene. She’s making it clear to everyone it wasn’t already clear to. Suddenly I sober up enough to panic, reaching for the blonde.

“Don’t fucking touch her. Did she ask you to touch her? Ion fucking think so,” Paige is shouting at the man over Arike. Fucking shit.

“Paige,” I murmur, pulling on her arm. She doesn’t notice. “Paige!” I yell over her voice. Finally, her blue, livid eyes turn to me. A sudden wave of fear washes over, reminiscent of Jasper. For a second I think they look the same. But Paige’s face quickly softens as she turns to me.

“I think it’s best we head home buddy,” Arike taps the man on the shoulder, walking him away from us. The people around us have their heads turned, curious about the cause of the screaming fit. I can’t touch her. I shouldn’t. But before I think it further Paige is hugging me, pulling me into her. The others leave us alone on the rooftop.

”I’ma kill him,” Paige murmurs into my ear. ”I fucking knew it. I’m gonna kill him.”

”Paige, calm down please,” I tell the girl, feeling the heaving of her chest against me. The blonde pulls back, her nostrils flared with anger. I need to find a distraction. Now.

”C’mon baby, let’s go dance,” I say, slurring my words. The blonde shakes her head, holding me possessively.

”C’mon be a good girl,” I coo, pulling her with me by the belt hoops on her shorts. The words work their magic, my girlfriend following behind me. We drunkenly stumble to the dancefloor, finding familiar faces - Lou, Arike and Lala and other members of the Wings staff except Trey nowhere to be found.

”Yoooo, guys c’mere!” Arike yells over the thumping music, waving us over. Finally, a smile on Paige’s face she follows me, pushing through groups of people.

”Thanks man,” Paige says to Arike, leaning in to hug her. Lala grabs my arm to get my attention.

”Everything okay?” She asks maternally, glancing at the blonde behind me.

”Yeah, everything’s okay,” I smile back just wanting to forget about everything. ”I just wanna dance.”

”Ah my baby!” Lala grins, wrapping me into a tight hug and beginning to dance with me, her arms on my waist. I giggle out loud, throwing my head back.

”Oh keep doin’ that,” Arike chuckles, watching me and Lala dancing, our bodies moving to the beat together. Peaking over my shoulder I find Paige too staring, with that lopsided grin on her face.

”Aight enough,” Paige chuckles and grabs me by my hips harshly, pulling me to her. I could tell the day’s events had made her possessive.

I can give a fuck 'bout no hater long as my bitches love me

The group gasps at the song blasting around the club. I giggle and face Paige. Her hands find their rightful place at my waist, both of us too gone to care about our surroundings, and the entire group too drunk to remind us.

Yeah, fuck with me and get bodied, And all she eat is dick, She's on a strict diet, that's my baby

Paige and I rap the lyrics to each other, wide smiles stretched across our faces as my hands reach around her shoulders. With my inhibitions lowered, I nuzzle my nose into her sticky neck, lips brushing against the salty skin.

With no makeup she a ten, And she the best with that head

Paige’s hand grabs my hair harshly, pulling me face to face with her. No one around us seems to be surprised by the way we were on each other. I guess it had always been obvious to everyone.

She said, "I never wanna make you mad, I just wanna make you proud", I said, "Baby, just make me cum, Then don't make a sound"

I word the lyrics to my girlfriend, my normally catlike eyes round and needy. A sudden overwhelming hunger for her was coming over. It burned my skin, made my throat dry. I needed to taste her on my lips, now.

Paige feels it too. Her lips hover over mine, low blue eyes locked onto my face. Her hand drags along my dress, from my waist to my hips, all the way down to my ass sending sparks along the way. I whimper into her open mouth, Paige’s hand kneading the skin of my ass. I move my hips with hers, grinding. I feel her everywhere, overwhelmingly so.

She wake up, eat this dick, Call that breakfast in bed, 69, 96

Paige’s lips hover over mine, her hand on my ass pulling me impossibly closer. I’m fully flush against her, the smell of alcohol everywhere and the flashing lights painting us in a rainbow of colours.

I feel her heartbeat, I chest to chest with this bitch

She mouths the words against my lips, and I swear I haven’t ever wanted anyone more. Completely unaware of my surroundings, of everything that wasn’t Paige, I’m about to kiss her when she spins me around by my hips, pulling my back into her front.

Now turn around, face down, I'm arrestin' this bitch

Paige’s hand presses me down just slightly, other hand gripping my hips and pulling me into her. It’s overwhelming, the way she’s grinding her hips into me. I know exactly what she’s thinking about - something involving me and a strap, bent over in front of her.

“Goddamn ma,” Paige hisses as I grind my ass against her. Pulling me up by my hair, I rise and feel the blonde begin to kiss my ear as if no one else exists but us. Her lips glide against my neck and I can’t take it anymore. Turning back around, pull her into a kiss by her chain, our lips colliding passionately. It lights a fire between my thighs, her lips tasting like grenadine and vodka. This is all I could ever want. Maybe that’s what love was always about.

It all happens in a flash. A stranger stumbles pass, makes a comment I don’t hear over the music pounding into my ear. I feel a harsh hand groping my hip, an unwelcome presence pressing into my back. Before I even realise what’s happening, Paige is pushing me aside and throwing a punch at a man I had never seen before in my life.

“Paige! Bro!” Arike and Lou grab the blonde, but the man is already holding his jaw in pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The man screams. “Fucking dyke.”

The group freezes, everyone looking at each other. Before we know it, Paige charges at the man again, now barely being held back by Arike who’s screaming at the man as well.

“Stop!” I scream, grabbing the blonde’s arm but she shakes me off a little too hard in a drunken haze, making me stumble backwards.

“Paige,” Lala says sternly, grabbing hold of me. I suddenly felt much more sober, my need quickly bursting into anger, frustration and fear. I wasn’t good around angry people. I could feel my limbs turning to jello, my legs trembling.

“I’m going home,” I simply say, turning to leave the club. Whether Paige follows me or not, I don’t care as I push through the groups of people, leaving the fight behind me. Tears burn my eyes, my hands shaking as I step into the Dallas evening, begging for any relief the evening breeze might give me. It doesn’t.

“Paige!” Lala grabs my arm hard, her acrylics scratching my skin. “Zari left!”

Hearing her name pulls me out of my rage. It’s still there, but subsided by the realisation of how I had behaved in front of Izzie of all people.

“Fucking shit,” I groan, rubbing my face. “I’m so drunk.”

Lou pats my shoulder. “Let’s get you some water.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I gotta go find Iz.”

Without a word of goodbye I leave, begging to God she isn't gone. I curse at the elevator moving way too slowly, forcing me to come face to face with myself in the mirror. My face is red and sweaty, a red spill on my white button up. I pull it off, leaving me in a sports bra and jean shorts.

She’s standing there with her arms crossed, waiting for a cab to arrive. Her bloodshot eyes watch the cars driving by, the slight breeze making her waves dance.

“Ma,” I approach her carefully. Getting closer I can tell that she’s shaking. “Hey, Iz,” I comfort, reaching to warm her up only to feel the heat on her skin. She’s not cold - she’s scared.

“Don’t,” she pushes my hand away, lower lip trembling. My heart breaks.

The cab pulls up, the driver standing up to open the door for Izara.

“Lemme ride with you,” I plead, ignoring the funny ache in my chest.

“No,” Izzie says sternly, sliding into her seat. I grab hold of the door, chasing the girl’s gaze.

“Please Iz. I fucked up. I dunno what’s wrong with me. Just please. I’ll be quiet the whole ride home okay?”

The dark haired girl rubs her bloodshot eyes, shrugging.

“Whatever.”

We ride in silence, save for the low hum of 80s music from the front seat. Suddenly, Izzie sniffles beside me. Turning my head, I notice she’s crying. I did that. I made her scared, I fucking made her cry. I loved her and I made her cry.

My eyes burn as I watch her staring out the window, facing away from me. A tear rolls down my cheek. When did everything become so hard? So complicated? Sometimes I thought to myself Izzie was just making it all more difficult than it needed to be. All these secrets and lies were eating us apart. I wanted her to be mine, I wanted to kiss her and not worry about who might be filming, I wanted to take her to events with me and not worry about what everyone might say. I just wanted her. I was sick of being a secret, of keeping us hidden away. Why was the only way I could have her to hide us from the rest of the world? It didn’t seem fair.

We pull up to the apartment building, and I pay in silence. Waiting for her to climb out after me, I stand still wiping the tears from my eyes. Her face is puffy and red from the crying. She’s still refusing to meet my gaze.

“Iz,” I whisper into the night. “Look at me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” she says, her voice shakier than I’d ever heard.

I sigh as we stand on the sidewalk in front of the doors of the building. She’s staring into the ground, shifting her weight on her feet.

“I’m so fucking sorry okay, I am,” I cry out, reaching for her. She flinches. “Izzie, please. I would never, ever hurt you. Please.”

Izara brings her hands to her face, hiding as she cries into her palms. I wanna grab her, to hold her, but even as drunk as I was I knew she needed her space right now. There was however a nagging feeling deep in my abdomen, telling me this wasn’t just about tonight.

“Izzie, just talk to me. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know,” Iz explodes, finally lowering her hands. Her face is wet with tears, making her skin glisten in the night. “I don’t know what to do.”

I can’t keep it in. Not anymore.

“Yeah, cause this ain’t just about the fight,” I point out. I knew she had heard me. No way she hadn’t. She knew exactly that I had told her I loved her.

“Paige, stop,” she pleads, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Tears spill from my eyes as I realise I was right. I had to phase it. I couldn’t keep it in.

“I love you. Okay? That’s it. I said it. I love you Iz. And maybe to you that’s the worst thing in the world,” I cry out. “But I love you dammit.”

Izzie freezes, her eyes finally meeting my gaze. Terror, confusion, pain.

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not now Paige.”

And I can only watch as she walks in, my heart breaking into a million pieces as I let her go.

taglist: @wbbgetsmewetter@thaatdigitaldiary@bueckersfive@lupinqs@sierrale8ne@d3arapril@lovegalor333@avvwritesstufff@rosemariiaa@bueckers22@taylynbueckers44@unadulteratedcyclepaper@rizzlerbuckets@wosolipa@bridgetloveswomen@paiges-1vur@slut4uconnwbb@xxloveralways14@bueckersbitch@janaelalfysblunt@omg-imtumbling@angryflowerwitch@ohbueckers @ohmybueckers @potatobears-world @st4yyyy @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @gayflygirl @saverdelrey @xoxosierralane @katemartinsfuturewife

#so it goes #lilas writing yaps #paige bueckers fanfic #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem oc #wlw x reader #wlw x oc #wnba x oc #Spotify

296 notes · View notes