#basically i have A Lot of feelings about them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

metanarrates · 2 days ago

Note

Hello. Sorry if this a stupid question u can ignore if u want.

How can someone get better at media analysis? Besides obviously reading a lot.

Im asking this bc im in a point where im aware of my own lack of tools to analyze stories, but i don't know where to get them or how to get better in general. How did you learn to analyze media? There's any specific book, essay, author, etc that you recommend? Somewhere to start?

I'm asking you because you are genuinely the person who has the best takes on this site. Thank you for you work!

it sounds like a cop-out answer but it's always felt like a skill I acquired mostly thru reading a ton, and by paying a lot of attention in high school literature classes. because of that I can't promise that I'm necessarily equipped to be a good teacher or that i know good resources. HOWEVER! let me run some potential advice to you based on the shit i get a lot of mileage out of

first off, a lot of literary analysis is about pattern recognition! not just pattern recognition in-text, but out-of-text as well. how does this work relate to its genre? real-world history? does it have parallels between real-life situations? that kind of thing.

which is a big concept to just describe off the bat, so let me break it down further!

in literature, there is the concept of something called literary devices - they are some of the basic building blocks in how a story is delivered mechanically and via subtext. have you ever heard of a motif? that is a literary device. it's a pattern established in the text in order to further the storytelling! and here is a list of a ton of common literary devices - I'd recommend reading the article. it breaks down a lot of commonly used ones in prose and poetry and explains their usage.

personally, I don't find all the literary devices I've learned about in school to be the most useful to my analytical hobbies online. motifs, themes, and metaphors are useful and dissecting them can bring a lot to the table, but a lot of other devices are mostly like fun bonus trivia for me to notice when reading. however, memorizing those terms and trying to notice them in the things you read does have a distinct benefit - it encourages you to start noticing patterns, and to start thinking of the mechanical way a story is built. sure, thinking about how the prose is constructed might not help you understand the story much more, but it does make you start thinking about how things like prose contribute to the greater feeling of a piece, or how the formatting of a piece contributes to its overall narrative. you'll start developing this habit of picking out little things about a text, which is useful.

other forms of in-text pattern recognition can be about things like characterization! how does a character react to a certain situation? is it consistent with how they usually behave? what might that tell you about how they think? do they have tells that show when they're not being trustworthy? does their viewpoint always match what is happening on screen? what ideas do they have about how the world works? how are they influenced by other people in their lives? by social contexts that might exist? by situations that have affected them? (on that note, how do situations affect other situations?)

another one is just straight-up noticing themes in a work. is there a certain idea that keeps getting brought up? what is the work trying to say about that idea? if it's being brought up often, it's probably worth paying attention to!

that goes for any pattern, actually. if you notice something, it's worth thinking about why it might be there. try considering things like potential subtext, or what a technique might be trying to convey to a reader. even if you can't explain why every element of a text is there, you'll often gain something by trying to think about why something exists in a story.

^ sometimes the answer to that question is not always "because it's intentional" or even "because it was a good choice for the storytelling." authors frequently make choices that suck shit (I am a known complainer about choices that suck shit.) that's also worth thinking about. english classes won't encourage this line of thinking, because they're trying to get you to approach texts with intentional thought instead of writing them off. I appreciate that goal, genuinely, but I do think it hampers people's enthusiasm for analysis if they're not also being encouraged to analyze why they think something doesn't work well in a story. sometimes something sucks and it makes new students mad if they're not allowed to talk about it sucking! I'll get into that later - knowing how and why something doesn't work is also a valuable skill. being an informed and analytical hater will get you far in life.

so that's in-work literary analysis. id also recommend annotating your pages/pdfs or keeping a notebook if you want to close-read a work. keeping track of your thoughts while reading even if they're not "clever" or whatever encourages you to pay attention to a text and to draw patterns. it's very useful!

now, for out-of-work literary analysis! it's worth synthesizing something within its context. what social settings did this work come from? was it commenting on something in real life? is it responding to some aspects of history or current events? how does it relate to its genre? does it deviate from genre trends, commentate on them, or overall conform to its genre? where did the literary techniques it's using come from - does it have any big stylistic influences? is it referencing any other texts?

and if you don't know the answer to a bunch of these questions and want to know, RESEARCH IS YOUR FRIEND! look up historical events and social movements if you're reading a work from a place or time you're not familiar with. if you don't know much about a genre, look into what are considered common genre elements! see if you can find anyone talking about artistic movements, or read the texts that a work might be referencing! all of these things will give you a far more holistic view of a work.

as for your own personal reaction to & understanding of a work... so I've given the advice before that it's good to think about your own personal reactions to a story, and what you enjoy or dislike about it. while this is true that a lot of this is a baseline jumping-off point on how I personally conduct analysis, it's incomplete advice. you should not just be thinking about what you enjoy or dislike - you should also be thinking about why it works or doesn't work for you. if you've gotten a better grasp on story mechanics by practicing the types of pattern recognition i recognized above, you can start digging into how those storytelling techniques have affected you. did you enjoy this part of a story? what made it work well? what techniques built tension, or delivered well on conflict? what about if you thought it sucked? what aspects of storytelling might have failed?

sometimes the answer to this is highly subjective and personal. I'm slightly romance-averse because I am aromantic, so a lot of romance plots will simply bore me or actively annoy me. I try not to let that personal taste factor too much into serious critiques, though of course I will talk about why I find something boring and lament it wasn't done better lol. we're only human. just be aware of those personal taste quirks and factor them into analysis because it will help you be a bit more objective lol

but if it's not fully influenced by personal taste, you should get in the habit of building little theses about why a story affected you in a certain way. for example, "I felt bored and tired at this point in a plot, which may be due to poor pacing & handling of conflict." or "I felt excited at this point in the plot, because established tensions continued to get more complex and captured my interest." or "I liked this plot point because it iterated on an established theme in a way that brought interesting angles to how the story handled the theme." again, it's just a good way to think about how and why storytelling functions.

uh let's see what else. analysis is a collaborative activity! you can learn a lot from seeing how other people analyze! if you enjoy something a lot, try looking into scholarly articles on it, or youtube videos, or essays online! develop opinions also about how THOSE articles and essays etc conduct analysis, and why you might think those analyses are correct or incorrect! sometimes analyses suck shit and developing a counterargument will help you think harder about the topic in question! think about audience reactions and how those are created by the text! talk to friends! send asks to meta blogs you really like maybe sometimes

find angles of analysis that interest and excite you! if you're interested in feminist lenses on a work, or racial lenses, or philosophical lenses, look into how people conduct those sort of analyses on other works. (eg. search feminist analysis of hamlet, or something similar so you can learn how that style of analysis generally functions) and then try applying those lenses to the story you're looking at. a lot of analysts have a toolkit of lenses they tend to cycle through when approaching a new text - it might not be a bad idea to acquire a few favored lenses of your own.

also, most of my advice is literary advice, since you can broadly apply many skills you learn in literary analysis to any other form of storytelling, but if you're looking at another medium, like a game or cartoon, maybe look up some stuff about things like ludonarrative storytelling or visual storytelling! familiarizing yourself with the specific techniques common to a certain medium will only help you get better at understanding what you're seeing.

above all else, approach everything with intellectual curiosity and sincerity. even if you're sincerely curious about why something sucks, letting yourself gain information and potentially learning something new or being humbled in the process will help you grow. it's okay to not have all the answers, or to just be flat-out wrong sometimes. continuing to practice is a valuable intellectual pursuit even if it can mean feeling a tad stupid sometimes. don't be scared to ask questions. get comfortable sometimes with the fact that the answer you'll arrive at after a lot of thought and effort will be "I don't fully know." sometimes you don't know and that can be valuable in its own right!

thank you for the ask, and I hope you find this helpful!

#narrates #thanks for the kind ask! i feel a little humbled by your faith in me aha #this may be a bit scattershot. its 2 am. might update later with more thoughts idk #nyway i feel like a lot of lit classes even in college don't tell you why they're teaching you things that might feel superfluous #hopefully this lays out why certain seemingly superfluous elements of literary education can be valuable #the thing esp about giving theses and having a supporting argument... its not just because teachers need to see an essay or whatever #the point is to make you think about a text and then follow thru by performing analysis #and supporting that analysis w/ evidence from the text #u don't have to write essays but developing that mindset IS helpful. support ur conclusions yknow?#anyway thanks again hope it's illuminating

196 notes · View notes

ha-im-gonna-die-alone · 3 days ago

Photo

#infamous second son#gifs#cutiessss#god the acting here! beautiful! jfbhjrbgbtr#aside: this is the second instance lately where I've noticed someone has pretty hands#Delsin=pretty hands#Josh Helman=pretty hands#man#also I love Reggie- still waiting on that secret ending where they say 'sike' and he turns up with studio/canned laughter and all#It happened offscreen which means he is OK and no one would be mad- please just do it vhfbvhbv#ASIDE/talking about a 10 year old game: Now I get the impression this game was rushed or something??#but I kinda wish they'd explored a bit more of the brothers' lore/history#and I also wish Delsin/Fetch could have had a bit more connection/banter there#since I feel their relationships with their respective brothers/the path they ended up on are echos of one another#just....ya know! it would be interesting to compare/contrast I think#and like I DUNNO! when (I played good boy) he takes responsibility for setting Fetch and Eugene on a better path#that felt like the influence of the kindness of his brother to me!!!! who obviously is always ultimately in his corner#we get a strong sense of an older brother used to taking care of the younger one; are their parents dead (?)#I got that vibe/implication but like....cannot remember it specifically mentioned. We're told fetch's parents turned her out basically?#but like....Delsin??? I dunno! WHat happened! I feel like a lot of the game would make sense if parent death was blamed on conduits or s/t#a bit cliche but it'd give us some lore and be quick- otherwise we gotta do a lot of 'reading into' that's harder to connect with-#-since it happens externally to our characters- ya feel me???#(I dunno maybe my issues there would mitigated by a better understanding of the infamous-verse- which I lack)#still-as a stand alone exp I have questions and desire answers!#also that scene where REggie holds him at the beginning!!! AUUUUGH! ok now I'm ranting#like both reggie and delsin show a fear of conduits/powers (again makes me wonder about their experiences with them)#could easily be just because of general public perception/propaganda of conduits as 'bad' etc...#but specifically how Delsin seems to panic at the beginning made me wonder about it...it feels trauma-sourced on some level#reggie seems to know how to handle that panic too! like they've been through this before#implies to me delsin may have had panic attacks in the past (@kobochajunkbox)

You do realize when we “hit the town”, there’s a fair chance the town’s gonna, you know… hit back?

#prev #ludophilia #5:33 pm

3K notes · View notes

cotton-fae24 · 2 days ago

Text

Hello everybody! Surprised to see me post something not Seabird related? Well sometimes drawing the same things over and over again gets a little tiring, so to clear my head (and to remind myself to draw legs once in while) I’d tried to draw other owl house stuff. During this break times I’d actually end up drawing other owl house creators Au’s, and I decided to clean up these drawings together and compile them into one big illustration. Think of this post as a sorta tribute to creators that inspire me. And don’t worry, Seabird part 3 will still come out Monday.

First up, the Monster high AU by @dazeddoodles

As the title suggests, it’s an AU that combines the G1 Monster high with the Owl house series. I was a huge Monster High fan when I was younger, so this AU was a real treat. I’m really sad they decided to discontinue it, as I think this AU is really cute. I love the designs too, Raine is my favorite. I kinda just wanted to draw some cute interactions, a young Eda and Raine interacting, Gus and Willow giving Hunter “a hand’ and Amity flirting with Luz (in her own way). Drawing this AU was a lot of fun and did inspire me to rewatch some of the old Monster high specials.

Pittwins AU by @nikolutke

This AU is much darker. The idea of the story is what if Hunter and Luz weren’t resurrected at the end of the series and wandered around the Boiling Isles as ghosts. I love Nikolutke designs for Ghost Luz and Hunter, they’re both haunting and really sad. Plus the idea exploring the Owl house characters reactions towards the death of a love one is really fascinating concept. I kinda explored that idea with these drawings, in this case Eda and Darius reactions. I feel like Eda would be out of her mind with grief, as she was forced to watch Luz’s death first hand. I think she’d feel a lot of guilt too, thinking she failed to protect Luz. I also wonder if Kings Titans powers allows him to see the dead, could be possible. As for the other illustration, I think Darius would probably isolated himself and grieve quietly, contemplating what he could of done differently, and if he could have saved Hunter in time.

The Gilded Cage by @catboymoments

I’ve been fan of both their next gen au and this one, but I decided to post one about the Gilded age au. The basic idea of this AU is the classic “What if Belos found Luz instead of Eda” concept. A lot of these AUs tend to go the route of “Luz becomes Belos 2.0” as someone who loves Luz, I’m sad people just think she’d just instantly become a villain if left unguided. I’m really that this AU went into a different direction and actual kept Luz’s personality and made Luz someone who’s trying to help the Isles and wants to protect her friends from Belos wrath. The one on the left is Lilith and Luz interacting, I like to think Lilith sees a lot of Eda in Luz, and makes her think of the good times before everything got complicated. The one on the right is Luz and Hunter, with the former trying to convince the latter to question Belos control. I love in this AU that despite Belos attempts to put the, against each other, they still have each others back no matter what! Their siblings no matter what universe they’re in!

And of course the classic (pun intended) The Mythology AU by @turquoisespace35

This AU is Huntlow story set in Greek mythology. Hunter in this AU is the half human-gorgon offspring of the human Caleb and gorgon Evelyn. Willow is sent to his location to kill him but (of course) they fall in love instead. The story has a lot of twists and turns, so I suggest you check it out if you haven’t already. The left drawing is Caleb and Evelyn interacting together. I don’t know if this work but I like to think the two were able to somewhat interact with each other by Caleb looking through mirror. I of course had to draw the love birds Hunter and Willow interacting together. The one on the top right is a little bit of a spoiler but I decided to draw Lilith and Edalyns in their goddess forms, I love that Lilith plays the role of Athena and acts a caretaker to Hunter. I drew her getting a little emotional about Hunter finally being free, as any cool Aunt should.

And to those who are just hear to see the Seabird AU, here’s a preview drawing of part 3 of chapter 10. I don’t think Edas really enjoying this part though lol.

Anyway, hope you guys this more unusual post, I just wanted to draw something a little different this time and pay tribute to some of the artists that have inspired me.

Edit: Chapter 10 part 3 of the Little Seabird is out now. In case you’re interested in seeing my work, I’ve left a link:

Chapter 10, part 3:

And if you want to read from the beginning, here’s a link to the first page:

Beginning:

200 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago

Note

hope you're feeling better by the ghosting! Lesbian dating scene is hard out here 😭 have an ask if you're up for it. Or you can just listen abt this scenario I have, totally fine either way just wanna let these thoughts out. And you're my fav sevika writer so! It's a bit angsty/comfort ig? Basically Sevika explaining to reader why it's such a struggle to say "I love you".

Not just because it's an admission of feelings for such a character but I think it's also cuz loving someone also means you have to accept anything could happen to either of them, esp since Zaun and her job are quite dangerous. So saying those 3 words feels like accepting that risk and continue on which is a big thing to do, it's like willingly leaving yourself open to potential heartaches. Idk just recently saw posts about how love is not just a feeling but also a choice, whether to stay/commit/any other reason the person feels what love is. Felt like if the reader is the first thing she's ever cared about and don't wanna lose her (whether it's a breakup, death etc,), she would struggle saying it cuz it feels like accepting that risk which she doesn't want to. She would still make up for it by showing her love & appreciation thru other means tho! Mb the reader had anxious thoughts on whether she reciprocated, or Sevika feels bad for not saying back for so long that she felt like she has to explain why she's struggling.

Sorry if I'm rambling too long 😅 hope you have a great year ahead, love your writing as well! ❤️

i love this sm <33

men and minors dni

even though you've lived in zaun your whole life, you understand that your life's been a lot softer than it could've been.

you've never had to worry about where you'll sleep at night-- you've always had a dry, warm bed to rest in.

you've gone hungry some nights, but you're lucky enough to have never gone more than a few days without a warm meal.

and your choice in career keeps you out of the line of danger; safe and inside most of the day, home before sunset each night.

so, while you're zaunite enough to know how to keep your head down and mind your own business, you understand that for most people life's a lot scarier.

sevika's one of those people.

sevika's known grief for almost as long as she's known how to talk. she's spent her fair share of nights in the cold, and she's gone to bed hungry more often than she's gone to bed full and satisfied. plus, sevika's dedicated her life to being a revolutionary. which means sevika has a lot of enemies.

so it's no surprise that lovey-dovey words come easier for you than they do for sevika.

it isn't until two years into your relationship that you realize she's never said she loves you. sevika has to be the one to point it out.

"i think i gotta call it an early night, baby. you stay up and finish the movie." you say around a yawn, leaning forward to kiss your girlfriend on the couch. sevika pouts.

"just sleep on top of me here." she requests. you snort.

"you'll throw your back out carrying me to bed."

"that's just offensive. i could lift three of you." sevika's pout worsens. "goodnight." she huffs. "give me another kiss."

you laugh and roll your eyes. "i love you." you say with exasperation as you lean in to kiss her. sevika stiffens against you. you pull away to study her face. "'s wrong?"

"you always say that." sevika whispers. you raise an eyebrow at her, climbing into her lap to hold her face between your hands.

"well, yeah. 'cause i do."

"i know." sevika says with a tiny smile. it makes your heart flutter. it's quiet for a moment as you wait patiently for your girl to gather her words. eventually, sevika sighs. "does it ever bother you that i don't say that to you?" she asks.

you frown in confusion. "what, that you love me?" you ask. sevika nods. you sputter a laugh. "yes you do, you say it all the time." you scoff.

sevika blinks up at you in shock. "no i don't." she says. "baby, i've never said it. to anyone. ever."

oh. well, that's surprising. you furrow your brow as you try to recall an instance where your girlfriend let the words slip, and you're shocked to realize that she, in fact, has not. "oh." you say.

sevika gulps. "does that... is that bad?" she asks.

you blink down at her, and your heart shatters. "oh, baby, no." you coo, kissing her frown. "no, that's not bad."

"but-- i should be able--"

"darling, i know you love me." you cut her off. sevika blushes almost as red as she did the first time she saw your tits. you smile, brushing your thumbs over her crimson cheeks. "you make that very clear."

"yeah but i--"

"you moved me into your sacred bachlorette pad three months into us meeting. yesterday, you came home from work with a stab wound, and tried to make me dinner before patching yourself up."

"it was just a scratch."

"i'm not finished. you call me stupid shit like sweetbean and cookie-- and you do it in front of other people! you! sevika; the scary lady of zaun!" she chuckles a little bit at this. "sevika, i didn't even realize you hadn't said it until you told me just now." you kiss her nose. "it's not bad."

sevika leans forward to bury her face against your neck, inhaling deeply. "i just... i want to say it." she whispers. you nod. "i wish i could say it like you do; just, whenever i feel it." god she's romantic. you choke back your own tears as you kiss her scalp. "but... if i say it..." sevika trails off.

"if you say it, it makes it real." you whisper, nodding. "it makes it somethin' you can lose." you can feel her hot tears on your throat. you don't mention it.

"y-yeah." she whispers shakily, her hands clutching at your hips desperately. "and i can't lose you."

"you won't baby. even if the worst happens, i'm yours forever. i'll haunt the shit outta you." this pulls a startled laugh out of her, and you grin. "you don't have to say it for the rest of our lives, if you can't. i won't mind. just as long as we're together."

and that settles it.

for a while...

sevika starts practicing.

she'll spell it out to you, 'i l-o-v-e you, baby.' or she'll whisper it to you when she thinks you're sleeping.

at the three year mark, sevika can say it when she's drunk enough. it's fucking adorable.

"i have somethin' import'nt' t' tell you..." she says with a waggle of her eyebrows. you burst into laughter.

"oh, do you?" you ask.

"mmhmm. look." sevika darts forward to peck your lips, then pulls back with a proud smile. "i love'ya." she slurs. you grin.

"i love you too, baby."

"an' if this jinxes everythin' and y' die-- y' gotta make the haunting obvious 'kay?" she asks. you cackle.

"alright, love."

by the time you're married, the words are almost compulsive for her. sevika can't leave a room without shooting a 'love you' over her shoulder at you. even if you're arguing.

"oh, so you've conveniently got a fuckin' 'meeting' in the middle of the night, on your night to do fuckin' dishes?! if you don't get in the kitchen and grab the sponge right now you're sleeping on the couch!"

"it's six pm, it's a dinner meeting! i'll do the dishes when i get back! you act like i'm fuckin' negligent, but you're the one who doesn't know how to properly clean a fuckin' toilet! janna, you annoy me-- i love you, i'll be back by midnight!" she huffs as she slams the door behind her.

despite how pissed you are-- you can't help but smile a bit at her words.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

225 notes · View notes

thisweknow · 13 hours ago

Text

I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

#sorry if this is an unwelcome addition #but what you said really resonated with me and i just #i think sometimes its helpful to see other people who have gone through it #and i think that more kids who are struggling and hating to hear that everything gets better and to just wait #i think they need to hear that its okay to take a more neutral approaxh #and that you dont need to feel guilty to enjoying the small things #and that you dont have to strice to be happy 100% of the time #that you really just need to strive for the positive side of neutral and anything greater than that is a blessing #and thats not to be a downer or anytjing #i genuinely meant what i said before about feeling as if being properly happy all of the time would cheapen the feeling of happiness #you just gotta find what that positive neutral is for you #like for me it's no longer feeling suicidal and feeling optimistic about things more than i do pessimistic #like i dont feel miserable or like i dont want to get out of bed #most days i feel like im excited to get up and go to work and see the people i care avout and that im excited to go home #and to go home to a husband who loves me and my dog and my two cats #and yeah sometimes im frustrated or cranky or sad but those feelings are much fewer and further between than the more positive feelings #and sometimes thats enough #idk i hope this makes sense im very tired its 1 am and i cant sleep bc my tummy hurts so im a lil out of it

22K notes · View notes

rafesbangs · 3 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 bunny!reader has always had a thing for a regular at her bookstore, older!rafe only comes in to see her

c!w; mdni !! older!rafe, dom!rafe, bunny!reader, age-gap (reader is 18+), size kink, rafe gets called 'daddy' a few times, dirty talk, mutual pining obviously, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, creampie, overstimulation (if you squint), cum play, cum eating, oral (f. receiving)

notes; i had such bad writer's block during the making of this so i apologise if this isn't my best work... also its kinda long before the smut but it needed some plot !!

you'd just gotten a job at a new cozy bookstore in town. it was perfect, had rows and rows of every genre of book a person could think of and a lovely little cafe with a cozy area to read in too. you loved working there, and had recently gotten much more comfortable after finally getting the hang of everything.

there were quite a few regulars that would come in for the coffee and a book, lots were mothers with quiet children that would sit down in the children's corner and read, others were just people of all ages that particularly enjoyed sitting in the bookstore for hours.

you were stacking shelves the first time you saw him; tall, gorgeous and smiling slightly under his cute scruffy moustache. he was flicking through the non-fiction books. though he didn't look like someone that read, adorned in workwear and partially grubby clothing, most likely from his blue collar job.

you could tell he was definitely older, around ten years your senior but still so pretty. after that first minor interaction you started seeing him come in a lot more, every other day basically. you'd worked up the courage to say hi to him after a few more times of seeing him and although your face was probably bright red, he smiled wide and started a conversation with you.

after the ice had been broken you would always talk to him when he came into the bookstore, it got to a point where he wasn't even pretending to be interested in the books around him anymore, he obviously had come in there to see you again.

rafe had also started coming in early before work started, he looked so good in his carhartt jacket and big boots, not yet dirty from a days work. he'd make sure you were the one to make his coffee, always mumbling something about you having a secret gift as he grinned, letting his hand linger over yours when he'd take his cup.

the tension between the two of you was palpable, your friends and co-workers would make jokes about how no one needed to read romance books in there anymore, they had a whole story playing out in front of them.

you would always laugh and smile at their comments, smitten over the idea of being with rafe but there was always the lingering thought that it was just friendly flirting. nothing more. he probably had a girlfriend, or a wife or something. he was too old and too gorgeous, why would he actually want anything to do with little old you.

these thoughts had you spiralling significantly on one particular day; what if you were wasting all your time and feelings on this older guy that would never want you? would you ever get over him? would you be alone forever?

you were zoning out - hard - as you slid the last few books of your shift onto the shelf, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him standing in front of you with a grin.

"sorry, did i give you a fright?" he mumbled, steadying you with his touch, "'thought you'd heard me when i said y'name but there must be s'much goin' on in that head of yours."

you took a breathe and smiled weakly at him, not being able to shake your pessimistic thoughts from seconds before as he stood in front of you, handsome and speaking.

"no, sorry- lots on my mind i guess" you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers. rafe's brow furrowed, he'd seen you stressed and frustrated because of work but never like this, anxious and pensive.

he tilted his head a little, "what's wrong hm?" he softly coaxed, looking deep into your eyes as he reached out and rubbed your arm with his thumb.

you looked up at him through your lashes, "nothing.. nothing really..." you mumbled, chewing your lip a little.

his gaze darkened as he watched you, "something you wanna ask me bunny?"

you shook your head after shuddering at the nickname. a nickname only rafe used with you, it never failed to give you goosebumps down your body and cause your thighs to squeeze together a little, "don't worry.. er, i'm about to close up in a minute - you don't mind walking me to my car do you?"

his pursed lips melted into a smile and he looked up for a second before nodding. you smiled at him before finally putting away the last few things and grabbing the bookstore's keys. rafe followed you out as you left the store and locked the doors from the outside.

"cold tonight hmm" rafe remarked, looking out at the dim parking lot and neighbouring streets as he walked close to you. you hummed in agreement, readjusting the jacket tighter around you.

when you finally reached your car you looked up at him with a longing smile before he tilted his head, grinning at you, "you gonna tell me what you were thinking about earlier?"

you shook your head, nerves chewing at your lip again.

"c'mon, 'm not gonna see you tomorrow, 'ts your day off bunny, can't make me just wonder all this time hm?" he playfully whined, inching his body closer to yours. you were a little stunned by his words.

"you remember my day off's tomorrow?" the nerves were rising in your tummy now, bubbling around and exploding.

he smirked, sliding your hand into his, "course i'd know when the only reason i go into that bookshop isn't there."

"rafe" you gushed, covering your face a little and shaking your head. you couldn't believe your ears, you thought you weren't stupid or anything but here you were, hearing that he wanted you the whole time. "i thought you were just.. i don't know, entertaining the idea of me this whole time..."

his lips parted and brow furrowed as if it was completely incomprehensible that he might've not actually wanted you, "bunny... you must be talking pure shit now because i thought i'd made it obvious i wanted you from the second i'd gotten to know you."

you chewed at your lip, heat pooling in your tummy as he instinctively inched closer to you as he spoke. all you wanted to do now was jump his bones, and you kept glancing down at the bulge in his pants as it became closer and closer to you.

he noticed your wandering eyes and laughed a little, throwing his head back before sliding both hands up your arms carefully, "...so you said you don't have heating huh?"

you nodded, feeling dizzy at the realisation of what he was about to ask you.

he scoffed with a grin, "see, i've got heating at my place that works pretty well, and - bunny, with the way you're looking at me right now, i think we're better off going there."

you smiled, staring up at him through your lashes before nodding and in an instant he'd grabbed your hand, leading you to his truck. the drive was probably fairly quick, but it felt like hours of agony to the both of you as you patiently waited. rafe's hand was possessively gripping your thigh and you felt wetness in your panties thinking about where else his hands would trail to.

it was a blur, stumbling out of his truck and into his house, you barely looked at the place before the two of you, sloppy and all over each other, had made it to his bedroom. your body was on vibrate but he took a second to take his huge jacket and long sleeve shirt off.

you breathed heavily, eyes widening when street light through the window illuminated his toned chest, he was built like a greek god and you nearly moaned at the thought of all that being all over you.

he teasingly peeled your clothes off, article by article, grinning all the way. he could see you twitching and heavily breathing at every movement, it only fuelled him more.

finally you were in nothing but panties and a bra, matching of course, which made rafe's eyes go wild, "jesus, look at you." he breathed, running his hands along the side of your body as you lay under him.

you slid your arms around his neck and tried to pull him in but he grinned at your lack of strength and you frowned playfully, squirming at the lack of action.

"you gonna ask nicely bunny?" his lips were centimetres away from yours, he was really enjoying teasing you now.

"please... please i want you inside me so bad" you whined, pouting and running your hands into his shaggy mullet. he smirked and leaned in, passionately pressing his lips to yours, engulfing you in heat.

your hands pulled at his jeans, ripping down the zipper as you slid a palm across his clothed cock, gasping at his lips over how big you found him to be.

he tugged himself out of his boxers before lowering down to your core, you burned with desire as you watched the greek god looming over you, slowly bully his cock into your weeping hole.

you groaned at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt. your grip around his neck tightened, along with his hands holding you steady at your hips.

he drilled into you at an unrelenting pace, the sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet pussy causing him to groan gutturally, "uhghh, you like this big cock baby? c'mon, tell me you've been thinking about daddy's cock since you met me hmm"

you eyes were rolling back, the pleasure becoming too much already, "mmmh i think about daddy's cock all the time... oh! fuuuck."

you looked down at your tummy, a clear huge bulge poking everytime rafe drove his dick into you, only making you dizzier. he was just so big.

a creamy line of arousal was thick around the base of rafe's cock, your breath all ragged as he continued to drill into you, toying with your clit to overstimulate you.

you were shaking under him, one hand gripping onto a bicep and the other tugging the sheets beside you. the sheer girth of him was splitting you open, rafe grinned at the yelps escaping your lips with every thrust.

"pussy's swallowing me whole, fuck bunny" he grunted into your lips, launching in for yet another seering kiss while his thrusts became sloppy but deeper. plap-plap-plap filled the room along with your pornographic moans.

"nghh daddy, i'm- oh, g'na cum!" you cried, nails digging into his flesh.

he was panting into your neck, "'know baby, can feel your pussy milking me- fuuuuuck" you felt the rush of your orgasm as rafe's thick white ropes coated your insides. he continued to thrust into you a few more times, watching your pussy swallow all his cum before pulling out.

"such a good bunny, look at that shit.." he mumbled, dragging a finger over your wet whole, playing with and pushing his release back into you. "so wet..."

he dipped his head down, lapping up both your juices that had coated your folds. you twitched from the sensation, still recovering from his cock.

"rafeee- oh god- too sensitive.." you whined, hand laced in his hair. he lifted his head and looked at you with a grin, his moustache gleaming with wetness.

"oh bunny now that i've had you, shit, i'm never letting my little girl go."

289 notes · View notes

uconnwbbcrashout · 2 days ago

Text

last winter break

chapter iii: “i think i’m gonna kiss you”

paige x azzi

word count: 6.5k

content: swearing, some fluffy banter, and a healthy dose of angst

chapter list: here

author’s notes: after a long wait, it’s finally here!! i wanna apologize for the 100th time for how long this took me to write. as you can tell by the word count compared to chapters i & ii, this one kinda got out of hand. but i'm happy w/ how it turned out and i hope it's worth the wait!! :) enjoy!

Winter 2022-2023

AZ: hey, i saw the news

AZ: about your acl i mean

AZ: i hope you’re doing okay p

p (IGNORE): thanks. good as i can be yk

p (IGNORE): surgery went well and all

p (IGNORE): but hey

p (IGNORE): delayed not denied right ?

changed user’s contact name to “p”

AZ: right

AZ: you’ll be okay

AZ: i know it

p: i hope youre right

*****

p: did you see the schedule

p: we play you guys

p: dec 11

p: well i wont be but

AZ: i did!!

AZ: you guys don’t stand a chance btw

p: damn way to kick a girl while shes down az

AZ: sorry?

*****

AZ: happy birthday paige

AZ: you’re so old

p: shut up

p: thank you azzi

*****

p: happy bday az

p: yOu’Re sO oLd

AZ: ok i had that coming

AZ: but thank you :)

*****

p: just saw the clip

p: hope you and your knee are ok <3

p: rest up azzi

AZ: thanks p

AZ: looks like we’re both gonna be on the bench next week

AZ: we’re still beating you guys though

p: well see bout that

*****

AZ: told you so

p: i couldnt even play bro

AZ: and i could??

p: whatever

p: we beatin you in march idc

AZ: sure p sure

*****

Azzi sighs, stretching her thumbs again where they hover over the keyboard on her phone. She’s laid out on her parents’ couch, legs propped up on a pillow, feeling utterly ridiculous as she tries to muster up the courage to send a text to Paige. She scrolls back up through their conversations from the past few months for what must be the eighth time today, overanalyzing every word.

It shouldn’t be this difficult, really—it’s hardly the first time this year that she’s been the one to reach out and text Paige. And she’s literally just trying to ask her if she’s going to a party. It’s an extremely low stakes conversation topic.

And yet here she is, practically ripping her hair out at the thought of pressing "send."

In all honesty, it’s a pretty good way to sum up what this year has been—so much more difficult than it ever needed to be.

And to say it’s been a weird fucking year would be an understatement.

After a disappointing tournament run in March, Maryland’s team changes significantly, so much so that Azzi has a hard time keeping track of it all. Graduations, transfers out, transfers in, new freshman—they're basically an entirely new team by the time the season starts up again in the fall.

And then she meets a girl, Maya, late one night in February when she’s cramming for an exam in the student union. She’s on the track team—a sprinter—tall, and devastatingly pretty. She’s unwaveringly confident, too, sitting across the empty table from Azzi and striking up a conversation with her easily. They end up talking for so long that night that the cleaning staff have to kick them out.

Things just click after that.

It's nice. It’s safe. It’s fun.

It’s sneaking into team housing well past curfew. It’s study dates at their favorite coffee shop on campus. It’s stolen hoodies and cold winter nights, huddled together for heat. It’s good luck kisses and lingering hugs before away games or meets. It’s late-night FaceTimes when there’s hundreds of miles separating them. It’s flower bouquets and greeting cards left on kitchen counters.

It’s something that feels a lot like the beginning stages of love.

And, above all, it makes Azzi happy.

There’s just one persistent, unavoidable problem—there's never enough time. Differing practice schedules. Basketball games and track meets. Press conferences and weight training. Midterms and March Madness. Conference championships and long flights across the country.

And it’s unfortunate, really, because a big part of Azzi thinks things could’ve been different. That maybe in another life—one where they met at a different time—things might have stuck. Things might have been long-term, could have worked out.

But in this life, they don’t.

After that it’s fairly quiet. Some random hookups here and there over the summer. A couple dates that fizzle out by the end of the night.

In the end, nothing she really regrets, but nothing that's as real as those few months were with Maya.

And then she reinjures her knee in December, forcing her to be sidelined. An unfortunately familiar seat on the bench with her name on it.

And then, of course, there's this weird situation with Paige. One that Azzi herself more or less created when she first reached out in August after Paige tore her ACL. It isn't like texting a stranger, but it also isn't like texting the old best friend she once knew. It's something in between, some strange acquaintance-like relationship that leaves Azzi entirely confused as to what she should or shouldn’t say.

Even if it is a bit strange, and maybe not quite ideal, she has to admit that it's still nice to have Paige back in some capacity. And enough time has passed, enough people have come and gone, that Azzi's just starting to warm up to the idea of someday calling Paige her friend again. Just a little bit.

Oh, and maybe Azzi also still finds her to be incredibly attractive.

But that's hardly relevant.

Her phone vibrates in her hand, catching her so off guard that she nearly drops it on her face. Her heart starts pounding in her ears, her stomach fluttering with anticipation—

Damn, it’s just from Diamond.

Azzi groans, clicking the notification.

d💎: you text her yet

Azzi rolls her eyes at her friend’s impatience.

AZ: almost

d💎: you’re actually killing me here

d💎: gimme her number

d💎: i'm gonna text her if you don’t

AZ: absolutely not

AZ: i regret telling you anything

d💎: no you don’t

d💎: now quit stalling and text. her.

AZ: oh my god FINE

Azzi swipes out of their conversation and taps back into her one with Paige.

Here goes nothing.

AZ: hey, you going to that stupid party again this year?

She turns her phone off immediately and slams it face down into the couch cushions, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

Her phone chimes not more than 30 seconds later, and Azzi half expects it to be another text from Diamond asking for updates.

But it isn’t.

p: yo

p: the one at that football players house??

p: maybe. ion know yet

“Oh my God,” she mutters, fingers already flying over her keyboard.

AZ: dude

AZ: it’s literally tomorrow

AZ: how do you not know

p: dude

p: ima busy person

p: my time is valuable yk

p: wbu tho

Azzi tries to fight the smile that’s forming on her face. She thinks for a minute, deciding to answer honestly.

AZ: i was thinking about it

Azzi watches with bated breath as the three dots on the screen disappear and reappear several times.

p: then maybe i will

Azzi sighs, closing her eyes and pressing the side of her phone into her forehead.

I’m never getting a straight answer out of her, she concedes.

*****

If anyone were to ask Azzi, she would argue that a cropped cami tank top with a pair of ripped jeans is perfectly reasonable attire for a casual house party in early January. The below-freezing temperatures are simply irrelevant.

It, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Paige is likely to show up tonight. Azzi doesn’t think about how Paige had hugged her from behind and mumbled, “Looks so good, baby,” the last time she wore this shirt in front of her. She also doesn’t think about how Paige always seems especially distracted when she wears her hair up in a bun like this, blue eyes constantly straying to the lines of Azzi’s neck and collarbones.

She absolutely does not, under any circumstances, think about that. At all.

Azzi just likes to feel and look good is all. She’s got the former down easily, and she thinks she’s managed the latter, too, if the number of people who have come up to her tonight is any indication. Guys, girls, people she recognized and people she didn’t—it didn’t really seem to matter. It felt like there was an endless stream of drinks being offered, numbers trying to be given out, and suggestive conversations directed at her. It was flattering, sure, but none of them had the right tint of blonde hair, the exact shade of blue eyes, the correct build of muscle she had been searching for all night.

She downs the last of her drink, crushing the plastic cup in her hands and tossing it in the trash can behind her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. No texts.

Lifting a hand up to rub at her eye, she yawns and scans the room one more time, debating whether she should just call it a night at this point.

And then she feels it—the soft graze of fingers along her lower back, just above the waistband of her jeans. A warm, featherlight touch, then the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood and a low voice in her ear.

“Azzi.”

She spins towards her quickly, her breath catching in her throat at the proximity of Paige’s face to hers, just inches away. Azzi leans back a bit, mostly to give herself a chance to breathe, and feels the hand on her lower back slide to lightly press on the side of her hip.

Azzi drags her eyes over Paige then, unable to help herself, taking in the tech fleece pants hanging low on her hips and the black fitted T-shirt straining against the muscles in her arms. Azzi’s a bit surprised to see that she’s wearing her glasses—it’s not something she does very often. Paige is smirking, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and Azzi swears she must have gotten taller since the last time she saw her.

She manages to catch her breath for a moment, flashing a smile that she hopes doesn’t reveal the nerves that she’s feeling. “Hi, Paige.”

Neither of them seems to know what to do after that because, honestly, what are you supposed to do in this type of situation?

To Azzi’s surprise, Paige makes the first move, stepping into Azzi’s space and snaking her other arm gently around Azzi’s waist. It takes Azzi a few seconds to respond before she leans into Paige and circles her arms around her shoulders. Azzi’s heart rate picks up even more when she feels Paige’s breath being released heavily against her, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“This okay?” Paige asks, her breath hot against the outside of Azzi’s ear. Azzi hums in agreement, settling her head to rest on Paige’s shoulder.

It probably should be awkward, and it is for just a second or two, but muscle memory kicks in and it ends up being more comforting than anything. It’s a hug after all, something they’ve done probably hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years.

They could be there for a few seconds or a few minutes—Azzi really isn’t sure. At some point she feels someone bump into her as they walk by and that snaps her out of it, makes her realize that they are still at this party and people are definitely looking. She takes a step back and clears her throat, patting Paige’s shoulder once before dropping her arms to her sides.

“You look good, P,” Azzi admits, smiling softly.

Paige coughs and looks over her shoulder for a second before turning back to face her and—

Is she blushing?

She coughs again before saying, “Thanks. You do too, Az.”

Azzi smiles appreciatively, looking down at her hands. “Couple people here seemed to think so, too.”

Paige chuckles. “Yeah, saw ‘em all lined up for you.”

“You been talking to anyone else here?”

“Nah, not really,” Paige replies, waving her hand, and Azzi glances up to meet her eyes. Paige shrugs. “Only really came here for one person, you know?”

Azzi doesn’t have to ask her who that person is—the way Paige’s eyes are trailing across her face tells her everything she needs to know.

“Is that so?” Azzi crosses her arms in front of her, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Mhm.” Paige glances around the room before leaning into Azzi’s space again. “Hey, wanna get outta here? We can go somewhere else or somethin’.”

“I guess I can swing that,” Azzi agrees, hoping she comes across as indifferent as possible.

“Aight, cool.” Paige pats her pockets, searching for her keys. “You take your car here?”

Azzi shakes her head. “No, I walked.”

Paige raises an eyebrow at her, an incredulous look on her face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Azzi tries again, patting her own pockets to prove that they're empty.

“You walked here,” Paige repeats, still disbelieving. “In this weather.”

“It was only, like, 20 minutes.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s better for the environment!”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh my God, can we just take your car or not?” Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Always the passenger princess.” Paige remarks, looking smug. “But, yeah, let’s go.” Paige beckons for Azzi to follow her to the coatrack. Paige holds the door open as they pull on their coats, both of the waving their hands over their shoulders as some people call out to them.

The short walk to Paige’s car is quiet, the occasional crunch of footsteps on snow the only sound. Azzi slips into the passenger seat and clicks her seat belt on, watching as Paige does the same in the driver’s seat. Paige drums her fingers quietly on the steering wheel, and Azzi glances out the window to look back at the house they just came from.

“So, uh, where to?” Paige asks, breaking the silence.

Azzi thinks for a moment before turning to Paige with a grin.

“Slushies?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

*****

“There’s just no way he said that,” Azzi giggles, readjusting her feet where they rest on Paige’s dashboard. They’re parked outside of Azzi’s parents’ house, heat blasting through the vents, SZA playing softly through the speakers, conversation flowing freely, half-drunken slushies melted and abandoned in the cupholders between them.

“I swear it’s true!” Paige promises.

“He for real told you that you have ‘the shittiest shooting form he’s ever fucking seen’?”

“On God, he did,” Paige laughs, running a hand through her hair. “Coach can be ruthless when he’s pissed off, man.”

“And you wanted me to come to UConn because?”

“Oh, c'mon, Az. You know no one can stay mad at you.” Paige reaches out and pokes at Azzi’s cheek. “Not with that face.”

Azzi pushes her hand away, flustered. “Shut up, P.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Whatever.”

A comfortable silence stretches on then, the two of them taking a moment to enjoy each other’s presence.

Azzi glances down at her watch. “I should probably get going,” she admits regretfully, turning around and rummaging in the backseat for her coat.

“Lemme pull up for you,” Paige insists, putting the car in drive and turning into the driveway.

She feels Paige put the car in park again just as she manages to find her jacket. “Thanks,” Azzi starts, pulling the door handle—

It’s locked.

What the hell?

Azzi yanks on it twice to be sure before turning to level her a stare. There’s a mischievous glint in Paige's eye that she doesn't trust. “So, are you letting me out or what?”

Paige keeps smiling widely at her, not moving or saying anything.

“Paige.”

Azzi watches Paige nod her head towards the front of the house, and Azzi follows the motion to see Curry and Stewie poking their heads through the curtains, their barks echoing off the window. Azzi shakes her head and glances back at Paige. “What is it?”

Paige shrugs, bringing her hands up to rest on the wheel again. “You gotta at least let me see my kids, Azzi.”

“Are you inviting yourself inside my house?” Azzi feels her eye twitching.

“Please,” Paige begs, and then she honest to God pouts at Azzi. “Think I’m due a visitation.”

“You are actually so annoying.” Azzi leans her head against the cool glass of the car window, closing her eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Paige asks, her voice lifting excitedly.

“It will be if you unlock this.” Azzi pulls on the door handle repeatedly.

“Ha, let’s go!” Paige exclaims, pressing the "unlock" button immediately and sprinting out of the car. She’s on the front porch and jumping in place before Azzi even has the chance to close the car door behind her.

“Alright, chill out,” Azzi mutters, brushing past her and turning the key into the lock. Paige pushes the door open the rest of the way and stumbles through the doorframe, kicking her shoes off. She makes it about five feet into the house before she drops to her knees and starts petting and hugging the two dogs racing around her.

Azzi locks the door behind her, and she can’t help the smile that overtakes her face when she sees Paige laid out on the ground, Stewie and Curry clambering over her to lick her face.

“My kids,” Paige coos, cradling Stewie in one arm and scratching Curry’s chin with her other hand. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s home now.”

Shaking her head, Azzi tears her eyes away from the scene and flops onto the couch. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and makes herself comfortable.

Paige stands up after a few minutes and stretches her arms above her head, groaning dramatically. Azzi catches a glimpse of her shirt riding up and her boxers peeking out before she pulls her phone closer to her face, fighting the heat creeping up on her cheeks. Paige doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she luckily doesn’t say anything about it. She moves to peek her head in the kitchen and the hallway before she reenters the living room.

“Nobody home?” Paige asks, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Azzi grabs a throw pillow off the couch and hurls it at her, but Paige catches it easily. “Stop. They went to a family holiday party thing I think.”

“And how the hell did you get outta goin’ to that?” Azzi feels the couch shake as Paige hops over the back of it and settles in across from her.

She puts her phone down and looks at Paige more fully then. “Like you said, no one can say no to this,” she explains, flashing her signature dimpled smile and pointing at it with both hands.

“I was jokin’ when I said that,” Azzi thinks she hears Paige grumble as she hugs the pillow she’s still holding to her chest.

Azzi goes back to scrolling on her phone, and she sees Paige throw the pillow up in the air and catch it a few times in her periphery.

She hears a heavy sigh, but she ignores it, opting to respond to a few texts from her teammates instead.

Then there’s another sigh, somehow more emphatic than the last, and the push of a foot against her own.

“Azzi.”

Maybe if I ignore her for long enough, she’ll stop, Azzi considers.

“Azzi.”

Just pretend you don’t hear her.

“Azzi Fudd.”

When has that ever actually worked, though?

“Azzi, please.”

Oh my fucking God, why did I let her in my house?

She clicks her phone off and drops it at her side, glaring daggers at Paige. “What?”

“Dude, I’m bored,” Paige complains.

“Dude, you literally do not have to be here,” Azzi points out.

“Entertain me, please.” Paige is practically begging now. “Aren’t you supposed to do that for your guests?”

Azzi closes her eyes and throws an arm over her face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely annoying?”

“Yeah, you. Multiple times today, actually.”

“I was so right about that.”

“Okay, but can we do somethin’?” Paige asks again, kicking at her foot. Azzi kicks back, sliding her arm off her face.

“2K?” she suggests, gesturing to the controllers on the coffee table.

Paige’s eyes light up and she’s up in a flash, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on. “Fuck yes. Imma be the Lynx, though.”

“Whatever you want.”

*****

“Damn, you letting me win now, Paige?”

“Bro, ‘course not.”

“What’s your excuse this time?”

“Not my fault you keep distractin’ me, Az.”

“Not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me, P.”

“Shut up. One more, I swear. Then we can quit.”

“Only if you win though, right?”

“Bro, just play.”

“Fine.”

*****

It’s many, many, games later—the clock on the wall having ticked over to the A.M. hours long ago—before Azzi has to tap out, eyes bleary and energy drained.

“Alright, I’m done,” Azzi sighs, tossing the controller on the coffee table and standing up slowly to stretch her back.

“Finally givin’ up?” Paige challenges, raising her eyebrows at her. Amazingly, somehow, she doesn’t look tired in the slightest.

“No, I’m not 'giving up.' I’ll literally fall asleep if we play one more.”

“If you say so.”

“Paige,” Azzi whines, pouting at her. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Aight, let’s be done then,” Paige agrees, setting her controller aside and standing up to stretch out.

“Are you awake enough to drive home?” Azzi questions.

“Me? Imma be just fine,” Paige assures her, moving toward the door. She bends down to pick up her shoes and pulls the curtain aside with a finger to peer outside. “Yeah, it’s no problem—oh, shit.”

Azzi strides over, reaching for the curtain to open it. “What is it?”

“Uh, well,” Paige starts, voice slightly muffled behind the thick fabric. “There’s a—”

Azzi grabs hold of the curtains, yanking them away to reveal the scene outside. Her jaw drops.

“—blizzard,” Paige finishes.

A fresh layer of snow, several inches deep, covers the ground. The wind lifts it up, blowing it around wildly, creating near whiteout conditions. Azzi can barely see Paige’s car parked in the driveway, a mere ten feet away.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Azzi mutters, staring disbelievingly out the window.

Paige furrows her brow, seeming to think something over for a minute. “Nah, I’ll still drive home.” She sits down on the recliner, untying the laces on her shoe.

“Like hell you will,” Azzi scoffs.

Paige looks up at her, pausing her movements. “Bro, chill. It’s, like, a couple blocks.”

But Azzi is persistent, moving to guard the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not letting you go out in that.”

“I can drive slow.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” Azzi retorts, readjusting her arms. “Just stay, please. It’s too dangerous.”

“If you’re sure,” Paige concedes, tossing her sneakers behind her.

“I am.”

“Cool,” Paige stands, stretching her arms again. “I got the couch then.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, punches Paige’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t be stupid, P.”

Paige brings up a hand to rub at the spot Azzi hit, wincing in mock hurt. “Ow. Stupid ‘bout what?”

“You can just sleep in my bed. You are a guest after all,” Azzi points out, referring back to what Paige had said earlier.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows for the second time tonight, and Azzi considers punching her again, harder this time. “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Oh my God, stop. Look, I’ll take the couch, you take the bed? That fine?” Azzi offers, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s dumb. You’re not gonna sleep in your own bed?”

Azzi throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly. “What do you suggest then?”

“I’on see why we can’t both just sleep in the bed,” Paige shrugs, not really meeting Azzi’s eyes.

How the hell did we get here?

“Whatever, sure,” Azzi relents, even though every fiber of her being is urging her to do the exact opposite. “I’m too tired for this. My family is gonna be home soon and I wanna sleep at least a little before they barge in.” She turns away and starts dragging her feet down the hallway to her room, hearing Paige padding quietly behind her. She pushes the door open with her shoulder and immediately goes to her closet, searching for something more comfortable to change into.

In the corner of her eye she spots Paige, shuffling about the room, eyes roaming over her pink bed sheets, the assortment of unicorn stuffed animals on her desk, the rainbow decals on her mirror. “Haven’t really changed much, huh?

Azzi grabs a pair of fleece pajama pants and a T-shirt, chuckling. “I don’t exactly live here anymore.”

“Good point.” Paige nods her head, running a finger along Azzi’s trophy shelf. Her eyes spot one item in particular and she takes it off the shelf. She flips the medal over to study the engraving on the back. “‘2018 Minnesota State Tournament: Class AAAA Champions’,” she reads with a scowl on her face. “Still can’t believe you guys beat us.”

Azzi walks up to her and snatches the medal from her, setting it back in its place. “Still can’t believe you’re not over it. This was, like, five years ago.”

“Aw, c’mon now. That last foul call was bullshit and you know it,” Paige grumbles.

“I think you’re just mad I dropped 30 points on your ass,” Azzi teases.

Paige frowns, crossing her arms. “No one was helpin’ me on defense.”

“Uh huh. Look, I’m gonna get dressed and stuff,” Azzi calls over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom. She pauses in the doorway and points a finger at Paige accusingly. “No touching anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige promises with a mock salute.

Azzi changes into her pajamas and gets ready for bed as quickly as her fatigued body will allow, which is to say not very quickly at all. By the time she’s done, she’s so drained that she’s sluggishly dragging her body back to her room.

She’s rounding the corner into her room, dirty clothes from the party in hand, when she happens to look up. She chokes on air, clothing falling out of her hands, and stumbles to regain her balance.

Paige is sprawled out on her bed, hair splaying across her pillows, the light of her phone screen lighting up her face.

But none of that is the issue here.

The issue here is that Paige is wearing a sports bra and pair of boxers and that’s it.

The lines of her hips are visible, her abs pulled taut, and Azzi suddenly feels like she needs to cover her eyes, unless she wants to start choking on air again. “What the fuck are you doing?” she squeaks out, hands covering her face.

She hears Paige laugh. “It’s hot as hell in here. I’on know why you keep the temp at, like, 75 degrees all the time.”

“So you had to take your clothes off?”

“It’s nothin’ you haven’t seen before anyways.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans against the wall, dropping her hands from her face but keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut. “Can you—God, can you at least put a shirt on or something?”

I’m not sleeping a wink tonight if she doesn’t.

She hears the bed creak slightly and assumes Paige must be sitting up now. “If I gotta.”

Azzi takes that as agreement and blindly feels her way to her closet, searching for the closest T-shirt she can find and pulling it off the hanger. She tosses it behind her in the direction of the bed.

“Okay, Imma get ready too then, I guess,” Paige is saying, the sound of her footsteps becoming more distant as she exits the room.

Azzi expels all the air out of her lungs, finally allowing herself to open her eyes. With shaky legs she makes her way to the bed, tucking herself under the covers. She takes a few more steadying breaths.

Pull it together, Fudd.

Paige is back sooner than Azzi is ready for her to be, but she stops a few feet into the room and gestures at her shirt. “This funny to you or somethin’?”

Azzi takes a moment to actually look at the shirt she unknowingly picked out for Paige and barks out a laugh, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The shirt has "St. John’s – State Champs" written across the chest in bold letters, her old high school’s logo below it.

“Okay, I promise I didn’t mean to pick that one,” Azzi swears, unable to contain her laughter.

“I’on believe you,” Paige grunts, sliding into the empty side of the bed. “You know I’d get beat up if anyone saw me wearin’ this, right?”

“Good thing it’s just me then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Paige grumbles, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

“Don’t worry,” Azzi says, smirking. “Your secret is safe with me, Cadet.”

Paige glares at her before rolling over and turning her back to Azzi. “I’m actually done talkin’ to you. Night.”

Azzi turns her bedside lamp off, encasing the room in darkness, save for a few bands of a dim streetlight poking through her blinds. “Night,” she echoes, settling to lay on her back.

She wills herself to sleep then, waiting for the exhaustion she’s been feeling for the past few hours to finally take over.

It doesn’t come.

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

But Azzi’s mind is racing, all thoughts on her former best friend stretched out beside her. Paige, lying in her childhood bed, clad in one of Azzi’s old basketball T-shirts and a pair of boxers, the warmth radiating from her enough to scorch Azzi’s skin even from half a foot away.

“Hey, P?” Azzi whispers, her gaze still glued to the ceiling.

She sees movement in her periphery, Paige angling her head back slightly in her direction. “Hm?”

Azzi swallows hard, attempting to dislodge the lump forming in her throat.

There’s been one question turning itself over and over in her mind all day. A thought that wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried to shake it out.

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Did you have a New Year’s kiss this year?” she hears herself ask.

Everything is silent then, and Azzi can’t think of many other times in her life where she’s felt as vulnerable as she does now.

The quietness stretches on for an agonizingly long amount of time. It lasts for so long, in fact, that part of Azzi begins to wonder if Paige might have fallen asleep.

“Nah,” Paige mumbles, breaking the silence. She turns fully back onto her side to face Azzi, resting her hands together underneath her head. Azzi feels her heavy stare piercing through the darkness and shivers. “You?”

Azzi shakes her head, sighs, “Me neither.”

She moves to face Paige, mirroring her position, her heartbeat thumping wildly in her ears.

Azzi wets her lips, locks her eyes onto Paige’s.

Fuck it.

“Did you want to have one?” she breathes out.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. Maybe for Paige to shove her playfully or smile at her or something like that.

But Paige brings her bottom lip into her mouth, waits a beat, then nods her head.

Oh.

She wants this, too.

Azzi isn’t sure which of them is leaning in, but suddenly Paige’s face is just inches from her own, her breath warm against Azzi’s lips.

“Are you sure?” Paige whispers.

Am I sure I want this?

Absolutely.

Am I sure we should be doing this?

Well...

Despite her doubts, Azzi swallows and nods her head.

Paige is the one to close the gap between them, hesitant, at first, and gentle, just the soft press of her lips against Azzi’s own. A tentative reunion, two aching souls finally coming back home to each other.

And then the kiss turns needy, hungry, and Paige is bringing a hand up to cup her face, sliding the other down to Azzi’s waist. Azzi does the same, tugs slightly to bring Paige to hover slightly over her. Paige is kissing her hard now, pressing her into the bed, exhaling heavily, making Azzi’s heart flutter uncontrollably.

Azzi makes a decision then, pulls back just slightly and uses her tongue to part Paige’s lips, shivering when she feels Paige sigh against her mouth. The action seems to spur Paige on further because she’s shifting again, slipping her leg in between Azzi’s, applying just a hint of pressure, building up a low heat there.

Paige is relentless, kissing her with such fervor that it makes her head spin. Azzi feels a thumb dip below the waistband of her pants, caressing against her hip, and for some reason that snaps Azzi out of the dizzy haze she's found herself trapped in.

Azzi breaks the kiss, lightheaded, because if she doesn't do it now she thinks they might never stop.

Paige rests their foreheads together for a moment. She leans back, shifts her body off Azzi’s, her pupils blown out and her chest heaving.

“There,” Azzi hears herself say, breath uneven. “Happy New Year.” Then she rolls away from Paige, heartbeat still erratic in her ears, shaking hands pulling the covers back over herself.

She feels the bed shift a minute later as Paige wordlessly turns away from her.

Azzi brings her fingers up to touch her mouth, the sensation still lingering there.

It’s hours before sleep finally finds her.

*****

Azzi wakes to the afternoon sunlight hitting her square in the face, and she pulls a pillow over her head to block it out. Groaning, she blindly sticks an arm out beside her, feeling for a warm body next to her to shake awake.

Her hand comes up empty.

She shoots up in her bed, panic swarming her as she scans across the empty room. Her chest tightens, her throat constricts.

Fuck, she’s gone.

Tears are just starting to prick at the corner of her eyes when the sound of boisterous laughter bounces off the walls of the hallway.

Curious, Azzi follows the sound, finding its source relatively quickly.

The sight is strange enough to raise Azzi’s eyebrows—her dad and Paige, seated on opposite sides of the dining table, laughing over empty breakfast plates.

Paige notices her first, nodding her chin towards her in acknowledgement. “Hey, Az.” She pats the chair next to her. “Sit.”

Azzi doesn’t move, eyes moving skeptically between her dad and Paige. “Hi. What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’,” her dad says, but the snickering between the two of them afterwards is saying something completely different.

“This.” Azzi points a finger back and forth between the two of them. “This I don’t like.”

“C’mon, we’re just messin’,” Paige assures, still grinning devilishly.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Azzi responds sarcastically, opening the fridge door and sticking her head in it, searching for something to settle her rumbling stomach. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Packing, I guess?” Paige replies.

Azzi picks her head up at that and closes the fridge. “Huh, why?”

“Got a flight to Connecticut in the mornin',” Paige shrugs, and Azzi’s heart drops to her stomach.

“You do?” she asks, failing to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

Paige looks apologetic, casting her eyes downward. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Forgot to mention it. Speakin’ of, I should head on out soon.” She stands, putting her dishes in the sink before clapping Azzi’s dad on the back. “Good to see you as always, Tim.”

He smiles up at her fondly. “You too, Paige.”

“Imma grab my stuff,” Paige says, brushing past Azzi into the living room. Azzi moves on autopilot, trailing behind her.

It takes Paige all of three seconds to get ready, having only really come here with her phone and the clothes she wore yesterday, which she must have changed back into at some point. Azzi watches her pull her sneakers on, shrug into her jacket.

“Guess this it then,” Paige starts, eyes looking anywhere but at Azzi.

Azzi wrings her hands together, trying to figure out where to go from here. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll see you around then, P.”

Azzi is going to leave it at that, moving her arms to give Paige a quick hug, but then Paige is grabbing her arm and pulling her in closer, lowering her voice. “Don't we need to talk 'bout somethin'?”

“Last time you said that you broke up with me.” Azzi pries Paige’s fingers off her arm.

Paige bristles at that, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously. “Okay, but still. We need to talk.”

“About?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows where this conversation is going. She looks at Paige expectantly.

“We kissed, Azzi. You don’t think we should talk ‘bout that?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “I mean, like, what does it mean, you know?”

There are two ways Azzi can play this. She can be honest, tell Paige that she lost hours of sleep over it, that it’s the only thing she’s thought about since she woke up, that it shifted her world off its axis. Can tell her that all those feelings she tried to push down have risen rapidly back to the surface, demanding all of her attention. Can lay it all out in front of them, knowing it could be months before the next time they see each other again.

And then there’s a second option.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Azzi is saying, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

Maybe it's time for the ball to be in Paige's court now.

Paige shakes her head exaggeratedly, her face screwed up in utter confusion. “It doesn’t?”

“Not unless we want it to,” Azzi continues, making her expression as unreadable as possible.

“Well, do you?”

Azzi hums noncommittally, looking down at her nails. “Probably easier if we just forget about it, right? I mean, it was only one kiss.”

There’s conflict painted clear across Paige’s face, her mouth opening and closing several times like she can’t quite figure out how she’s supposed to respond to that. She bites her lip hard, so hard that Azzi is a little concerned that she’s about to draw blood.

“I—I, uh,” she stutters, and Azzi can’t remember the last time she saw her look this flustered. “No, yeah. For sure. Just a kiss.” She nods her head once, like she’s trying to convince herself.

“Good, I’m glad we agree,” Azzi replies, even if she doesn’t really mean it.

Paige scratches at the back of her neck again, clearly not anticipating the conversation to go like this. “Yeah. So...maybe I’ll see you in March or somethin’?” She offers a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Azzi shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

*****

She doesn’t.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #lwb fic #i really hope you guys enjoy this one :)#inbox open tell me whatchu think

206 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 3 days ago

Text

pulchra mendacium.

synopsis: Prime Dottore fell in the final battle against Celestia, and the shock caused you to lose your memories. Omega plans to take his place, or more specifically, take you.

includes: dottore (omega) w/ gn! reader

notes: Based on a brainrot of mine. Omega becomes "Zandik" because he wants you. There's fluff but he is basically lying to you the whole time and selfishly justifying his actions. I'm ngl this fic kinda flopped halfway through because I wanted it to be longer but I also lost motivation but didn't want to scrap it, so sorry if it's messy </3.

Despite being Dottore’s most advanced and strongest segment, with power and intelligence that left most people fearful, clearly the best one among the lot - when Omega gazed upon you, there were times when he sorely remembered his true identity in the end.

He was a segment, and his creator was the original.

It was a sentiment shared among all the segments, and he was no different. Despite all the love and attention you gave them, it could never truly compare or feel the same as when you did it to Prime. He came first in your heart, and it was an unspoken, obvious truth. None of the segments were fond of this irrefutable fact of course, but what else could they do but understand their place and be content with what they were given? None dared to overstep their boundaries.

The Omega segment was the exception.

He had always teetered dangerously on the edge when it came to you, taking slightly more of you than he was allowed. Everything he attempted was always strategically done and within reason, he was no fool, after all. And being such a high-ranking segment, it wasn’t like Prime could afford to do anything too harsh.

Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing was enough when it came to you - he selfishly desired all of you to himself. But there were things that even Omega couldn’t cross. Even he had to settle, something uncharacteristic of the man who pursued his interests without faltering. However, he was a patient man. Patience will eventually bring results, no matter how long that may be.

As Omega anticipated, his patience paid off, but not in the way he predicted.

—

The war against Celestia was victorious, but it had come at a terrible price, one you weren’t ready to pay.

Of course, everyone knew that it would be hard-won. Freedom was never easily earned. No amount of preparation could truly prepare anyone for heading into that battle. You yourself were terrified, but you steadied yourself by imagining peaceful days ahead with Dottore. Peaceful days of basking in the sun, your biggest worry being what should be for dinner tonight, no longer having to worry about the illness that plagued your body. You would teach him how to sleep in since his continuous experiments and paperwork would no longer be necessary. He would reteach you the wonders of being healthy again.

Unfortunately, your husband died right in front of you. You were right there, but you were powerless to do anything. You would have never thought this would happen, not the strong and intelligent scientist you loved, how could he fall?

Your Zandik. Your precious Zandik. The Zandik you promised to live out a lifetime of happy days with. He was gone, and you were all alone, all those happy years ahead of you were robbed.

Well, Omega, the last remaining segment and version of Dottore left in his world, had survived with you. But it wasn’t like you could really think or care about that right now, no, the loss of Zandik was far too devastating. After the war concluded, you thought you would be rebuilding your home with your husband. Instead, you were locked inside your room, refusing to come out. Omega was the only one who tended to you - the other Harbingers were either dead, too busy, or not close enough to see you.

Still, it wasn’t as if he was granted any attention. The segment’s words fell on deaf ears, whether you let him touch you or not had become an uncertain chance. And yet Omega was undeterred. With his creator gone, there was no one left to take care of you, the responsibility solely on his shoulders. Not that he minded of course - he’d done it for centuries, it wasn’t any different now. Even if you didn’t spare a glance at him, things would continue to go on. Time would always move forward, and he would remain by your side, waiting for the day when you’d smile at him again.

Most of all, Omega still loved you, even if he knew you’d never love him back as much as you did with Prime.

—

The segment had run through many possibilities of how you’d come to terms with your grief, but the situation he witnessed right now was not one of them.

From the moment he walked into your room to feed you your breakfast, he could tell something was wrong from how wide your eyes were, the confused furrow of your eyebrows, and how you were investigating your room. The two of you paused at each other’s presence before you backed more into the wall as if to guard yourself from him. Your lips parted, shoulders shaking in slight fear.

“Umm… W-Who are you…? And where… where exactly am I?” You looked at him nervously, unsure of what he could do.

Memory loss.

Well, even the ever-calculating segment didn’t see this coming. Immediately, many things ran through his mind. How, why? Did the sheer grief and loss trigger this? Most likely. Could you get your memory back? Maybe. It couldn’t be impossible. Plus, he was unsure as to what memories you lost in particular. What would be the best course of action so as to not frighten you even more? That would be-

“Hello…? Please answer me,” your voice was timid and unsure, heart beating in your chest.

“… Do you truly not remember me?” You shook your head in response. Omega paused before carefully selecting his next words.

“I am your husband.” Your eyes widened slightly at the declaration before narrowing again in disbelief, obviously unsure of the truth of his statement, but he continued on. “You’ve seen the pictures on your desk, as well as the ring on your finger. If you would like to see mine, I shall retrieve it.” (In truth, that was Prime’s ring, but it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it.)

It was true. In the strange room you woke up in, your desk was filled with pictures of an unfamiliar blue-haired man, that was the spitting image of the one you saw before you. The pictures held fond moments, most notably a wedding one, and you did not question how the mask was different considering the great similarity in appearance. Both of you looked at each other with great gentleness.

“And this is your room in our house. We have lived together for years.” It was a good thing that even though the Fatui disbanded, he still kept his mansion. Still, naturally, you looked unsure. Omega sought to remedy your worries, as he always did.

“Do you remember your name, by chance?” You nodded and quietly replied with it. “And what about your preferences? Favorite food? Season? Hobby?” You took a few moments to ponder before nodding your head. At least you seemed to remember yourself, Omega observed. Could the memory loss only apply to anything related to Dottore?

“Very well. Now, ask me things about yourself, especially things you think no one else would know. Surely that would prove how long I’ve known you.” You had to agree with that - of course there’d be secrets you’d tell no one except for a select few. And so you hesitantly started listing off some questions, to which the blue-haired man immediately answered without a second thought. For some of them, he even responded before you got through the question! How did he know you so well…? Guess he really was the real deal, but you turned your gaze to the floor, confusion and sadness still lingering on your expression.

“But how come I don’t remember? … What happened to me? What am I going to do now? How will I- will I ever remember?” Tears started to well in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, truly coming to terms with the situation. Omega only stared at you, his mind still thinking of the possible implications of this situation, but his first priority right now was to comfort you.

“May I approach you?” Your lip quivered, still a bit uneasy about him, but you nodded. Quietly, he made his way over to you, his tall stature hovering over yours. His hand rested on your shoulder and you stiffened momentarily. To be honest, you thought you’d be uncomfortable with it, but for some reason, it felt a bit reassuring. The man then wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest.

“I’ll stay by your side and help you with those questions, and whatever more you need,” Omega wiped a threatening tear from your eyes before it could roll down your cheek. You don’t know why you instinctively felt a bit better, or why his warmth felt so nice.

“Your touch feels familiar.”

“Does it?” You nodded slightly.

“I can’t remember anything about you… but it feels comforting.”

“I’m glad, then.”

“You never told me your name…” You looked up at him, still lost but a trace of hope lingered.

It was in those few moments where Omega made a decision.

He had always known he’d never be what Prime was to you. The segment was smart enough not to fool himself into thinking the opposite. Still, he wondered how it’d feel for you to love him even a fraction of how much you loved the original. It was a tempting feeling. Very, very, tempting… he continued to think.

Perhaps he could become Prime. Perhaps he could become Zandik. Perhaps this was where his selfish desires overtook his rationality.

Logically, if he did that, he would be lying to you about a few key things. And there was the chance you could regain your full memories. There was the issue with his mechanical face too…

However, you would be happy to live out the life you always wanted. He would fulfill the things you wanted to do with Prime instead. Yes, he vividly remembered when you’d tell him all the things you wanted to do when you were healthy. Of course, he would get the love and treatment he’d always selfishly longed for. This would be beneficial for both of you. And so, the segment parted his lips to give you his answer.

“My name is Zandik.”

—

What followed afterward was what he had expected to happen.

There were a lot of things you wanted to ask and yet you felt awkward and as lost as you could be, knowing he was the only link to the world you had anymore. He could feel your flickering glances repeatedly, throat dry as you inquired.

“You said you are my husband, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… that means you l-love me then…?”

“That��s also right.” You fidgeted with your fingers awkwardly, pondering what you should say next.

“If I am correct, you mean to tell me you do not feel any sort of affection for me, yes?” You rubbed your head shyly.

“… I am sorry.” When you looked at the blue-haired man, you couldn’t feel any sort of love for him, although his touch felt familiar. And although you had your own big problems to worry about, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Zandik, having to deal with his beloved not remembering a single thing about him. But he merely shrugged.

“Given the circumstances, it is only natural. We can worry about that later.” However, despite your worries, he seemed pretty calm and collected.

“So… about my memories. You’re gonna tell me about them, right? And you?”

“I could,” he began, “but I have a better idea.” You sent him a confused look. “In the past, many times you’ve told me that you wished to go back to Sumeru to live. Would you still like to do that?” You blinked at Zandik before a look of realization crossed your face.

“Sumeru… yes, Sumeru! My home… why am I even in Snezhnaya in the first place?” A large hand on your shoulder quelled your incoming anxiety.

“I’ll explain soon. But do you want to return with me?”

“I… do.” Even though you hadn’t gone outside yet, you think you’d prefer to live under that familiar sun rather than trudging through the snow daily.

Omega already knew what your answer would be. You had always wanted to go back and live an uncaring, domestic life with Prime after the war, but obviously, you never had the opportunity. It was what you deserved - so many years you were stuck in the lab.

He then approached you, cautiously taking your hand in his. “I believe the sights will help you regain some of what you’ve lost.” You couldn’t disagree with that, and soon enough you two were on a boat to Sumeru, though you weren’t sure why the employees were looking at you and your husband so oddly.

—

The way Sumeru looked so different yet similar to the way you remembered it at your head reeling. You knew for a fact the architecture was not like this.

But what you didn’t understand more was how Zandik managed to get a cozy home completely furnished to your liking in such a nice spot so quickly, but you didn’t question it much. Your husband gave off an aura of importance, perhaps he was good at pulling strings… however he did. More strangely was how calm he was about the situation. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be crying with stress and sadness. But he looked as if everything was turning out fine… You weren’t sure if that made you less or more worried, though the perfect drink he made you eased you of your troubles a bit.

“So… um, Zandik,” your husband’s name rolled off your tongue easily, perhaps because of how much you uttered it in the past. You didn’t notice how he tensed for a split second, still adapting to his new name. “Are you going to tell me everything?” Omega hummed in response.

“Would you be upset if I delayed it once again?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“… I’m beginning to wonder what I was thinking marrying such a strange man. Any normal person would be, I don’t know, fumbling over themselves to help me remember some things. I question your motives.”

“I can assure you that I mean well. I merely want to increase the chances of you remembering.”

“… Well, go on, Zandik.” He smiled at you. Your heart felt a bit funny at that.

“Come with me.” All of a sudden he clasped your hand in his and began leading you out of the door.

“Where are we going?” You glanced down to your joined hands with Zandik. He was warm. Unusually so. You… liked it.

“Where we first met.”

—

“We met at the Akademiya?” You did remember gazing upon the grand building as a child, but you were sure it looked way different than this. And all the shops too, there was nothing here that you remembered.

“Indeed we did,” he led you into the institution, an area where non-students were allowed to come and ago. “We were both students here a very long time ago.” Although he may not have personally experienced it, he still had all the memories of Prime. Pretending was easy.

“Really?” You squinted at the lights, gazing at the architecture that looked unfamiliar. You briefly remember getting in, but it felt like there was a hole blocking something important in your brain.

“Yes. The first time I met you, I thought you were a nuisance.” You nearly tripped at his blatantly rude statement and sent a mixture of a shocked and offended look to him.

“What?” Omega smirked. “I thought you wanted the truth.”

“I didn’t think my husband would think so crudely of me…”

“Well, when I met you I was not your husband. I was just a student who thought you were a pain in my side.” You huffed, but you found yourself oddly intrigued by his words.

“But why?” Omega paused before he responded.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you. I simply disliked the company of most people. But you were persistent in bothering me.”

“How come?”

“According to your words, you said I was too ‘intelligent and cute to resist.’” You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I-Is that so?”

“It is,” your husband grinned at you.

“So then what?” You two sat down, watching busy students rush past each other.

“You signed up to dorm with me, much to my displeasure. I ignored you for a long time and treated you rather harshly.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You did indeed. I thought you were crazy myself. But then I started to warm up to you. I realized your strength. Your intelligence. Even your beauty, which I had not cared for on anyone before I met you.”

“… I see.” His words left your face a little hot. Alright, now you could see why past you fell for him. He was certainly a smooth talker with a handsome face. However…

“I still can’t remember anything,” you murmured regretfully.

“That’s alright. I remember every moment that we spent together,” he said matter of factly, which you found strange, but you rolled with it anyway.

“Please, continue then,” you urged him.

The rest of the day was spent with Akademiya students sending odd looks at you two actively chatting, a scene quite reminiscent of centuries ago.

—

For a while, you woke up to the delicious smell of coffee. It seemed that it was one of the only things he was capable of making. You’d hypothesized that he probably couldn’t cook because he was buying food for all your meals… you weren’t complaining though. But for some reason, you had hardly seen him eat. It was only when you offered for him to join you that he seemed interested. There was also the issue of his mask - he never took it off… maybe he was self-conscious? You didn’t really know but also didn’t know how to approach the subject.

It also appeared that Zandik was an early riser - or maybe you just liked to sleep in too much. And yet, he never disturbed you from your rest, patiently waiting for you to wake. Whatever request you’d have, he would fulfill it efficiently with no errors. Whenever you’d break down, he would be by your side immediately and somehow comforting you exactly in the way you needed. He could be a listening ear, a reassuring shoulder, a voice of advice… it was almost unnerving how perfect he was being for you.

However, despite all his kindness… your memory simply could not remember anything. Even when he told you the whole four hundred years of sickness story, nothing clicked in your head…

“It’s regrettable that you do not remember anything,” Omega lied. He had always been cunning, to say the least. It took little effort to conveniently write his lesser selves out of the story and make it seem like he was your one and only. Of course, he left out the human experimenting and all. He didn’t want to scare you off right now.

Although, he did feel pity at your downcast look. He did not enjoy seeing you sad of course, nor did he like lying to you, but it would only last a while in the grand scheme of things, because he would take care of you as you deserved.

“Mhm… at least I have you, Zandik,” you sighed. Over the course of months upon months, you had come to grow fond of your husband. Aside from the memory situation, he indulged you in things you had always wanted to do.

The two of you had started a small garden (you were pleasantly surprised when he first brought it up) and spent mornings and nights tending to it together. Stray cats and birds somehow showed up at your doorstep (they were strangely affectionate toward Zandik) and you fed them together. He joined you on your new hobbies (how could he knit that fast?) too. He helped you prep ingredients whenever you cooked but didn’t go further than that “for your own safety,” in his words…

All in all, you could definitely understand why younger you stayed with him forever, and why present you was beginning to long for him in a deeper manner.

“Regardless, I appreciate all you have done for me,” you thanked him while clearing your throat awkwardly, and scooching closer to him on the grass. Sumeru’s evenings could get cold sometimes. You didn’t meet Zandik’s gaze and instead kept it focused on the setting sun. Amazingly enough, the island in the sky that had always been there was no longer to be seen. The sky was clear and beautiful, something you never thought you’d see. Zandik decided to tear his gaze from you too and look up, although he placed his hand on top of yours as you stiffened in surprise.

“Perhaps this isn’t so bad. I can court you properly, forgetting all the times I acted foolishly before.” You warmed at his suggestion.

“Such as?”

“Locking you out of the dorm for one.”

“Wow, you were pretty horrible, huh?” You couldn’t help but laugh and he quietly chuckled as well. “But…” you squeezed his large hand, “I would like that,” you admitted. “I hope to remember everything eventually, but… it would be nice to start over with you.” Omega perked up in delight at your confession, his mind racing with all the ways he would make you fall in love with him again.

“However, I do have one request.”

“Tell me.” Shyly, you raised your hand to his cheek and stroked it, which was softer than you expected.

“I would like to know the face of the man I’m about to kiss.”

Omega knew this was coming. He had put it off as long as he could, but it was only natural you’d get curious about his face. In all honesty, he was slightly unsure of what your reaction would be. It was very possible for you to be scared. At his hesitation, you quickly spoke again.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to,” you backtracked, “Although… it would make it happy to see who you really are, Zandik.” Omega sighed in response.

“My appearance may be offputting. Are you sure?”

“Of course! If past me could deal with it, why couldn’t present me do it?” You smiled, playfully pulling at his cheek to which he batted you away.

“As you wish.” In an instant, what stared back at you was a gleaming red star, no eyes to be found. You blinked, speechless. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, really, but still.

“Over the centuries, I modified myself to the point I was no longer human,” Omega explained. It wasn’t totally off the mark.

“I kind of had a feeling you weren’t human. I mean, what kind of human can survive only off sweets for breakfast the whole day?” You joked as your fingers went to brush against his metal plate, missing how he sucked in his breath, staying silent.

“This doesn’t bother me, Zandik. I’m happy you showed me. I know I must have chosen you in the past for a reason, regardless of what happened. And I want to stay with you.”

“… I share the sentiment,” Omega replied, senses focused on how close you were. He took hold of your hand and placed it on his lips instead, watching how you inhaled at his boldness. Swallowing away your nervousness, you took his invitation and moved your face closer to his, dropping your hand to lay against his chest instead. Shakily, you finally pressed your lips against his, and your husband immediately took control and pushed you onto the grass, making you gasp.

Finally, you were his.

All his.

—

From then on, the days were as peaceful as you once desired. You two slept in as much as you wanted. You two would bask in the sun and cool off in the shade. You would worry about what was for dinner (even though Zandik didn’t need to eat.) He would take you to hidden places in Sumeru frequently, watching as you brightened at the beauty of the land, and then give him an equally as beautiful look.

These looks were different from the ones who gave him all those years ago. You weren’t falling in love with a mere segment of Zandik, you were falling in love with “Zandik” himself. It was an entirely different experience.

It was wonderful.

Your touches were lavished upon his skin only, your sweet and encouraging words for his ears only. No longer did you need to direct any attention toward those who were less than him. And in return, he would love you better than any of them ever could. It was bliss…

… But of course, he should have expected an obstacle or two.

“I never thought I would see you back in this nation, at least not like this,” a familiar, young voice sounded behind him one day, one that he once bargained with a long time ago.

“… Lesser Lord Kusanali. I must say, I’m surprised it took you this long to visit. You’ve been observing me, haven’t you?” He hummed, uncaring of the God’s presence, continuing to water his plants.

“I have, ever since you stepped foot into Sumeru. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course. Since you’ve been watching me so thoroughly, then you must know, I have no intentions of causing any harm.” Nahida was silent. The fact that he was telling the truth was still jarring for her. However, that wasn’t why she was here.

“What you’re doing is entirely selfish. I thought you cared for them.” The God knew about what had transpired all those years ago and was able to roughly guess what the segment was doing. Omega scoffed in response.

“Of course I do. That’s why I’ve ascertained that this is the best possible solution.” You were happy like this, enjoying life to its fullest. Before, you were stuck listless and lifeless in a room all day. Surely, the former was the better option, even if he had to withhold some things from you…

“The best solution for you,” she corrected Omega, eyes narrowing. “This is all a lie you’ve crafted to fulfill your selfish desires and-” Before the Dendro God could finish her sentence, Dottore’s segment stood up, looming over her.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, I would think that someone as busy as yourself would have other things to do than to probe into another’s business,” he dismissed her criticism. “I have been with them for centuries. They have shared everything with me. I know what’s best for them.” So what if it was a lie? It was a beautiful one, was it not? It kept you glowing, happy to wake up every morning, and grateful to rest at night with him.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to hope your memories never truly returned.

But with you smiling at him so sweetly every single day, all the love you could muster reflecting in your gentle gaze, Omega continued to believe he was right.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin il dottore #il dottore #dottore #genshin dottore x reader #genshin dottore #dottore fluff #dottore angst #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #zandik x reader #dottore genshin #genshin impact x you #fragile reader <3 #divider by cafekitsune

195 notes · View notes

keferon · 2 days ago

Note

"Once Swindle says Blurr’s name out loud, there will be no going back. Swindle has no doubts Onslaught will approve. He has no doubts Blurr will say yes." - A closer look at what might have been going through Swindle's mind at the end of Blurr Chapter 3

---------------------------------------

Swindle’s hand moves subconsciously to grasp the phone in his pocket as he thinks. It’s not his work phone. No. This is a phone with only five numbers in it.

Swindle can feel Onslaught watching him across the desk. He shifts to cover the extra time it’s taking him to respond – to think. Not that Onslaught is likely fooled. They know each other better than just about anyone else could. But the act is such a habit that it’s impossible to drop.

And Swindle does need to consider this -- carefully. Because he knows exactly the kind of person Onslaught’s looking for.

Five numbers in the phone.

Only four of them are active.

And that number could drop at any moment. That’s been the reality of their lives for years now. Ever since Vortex.

Swindle doesn’t even entirely know why he keeps Vortex’s number in the phone except perhaps out of habit. It’s not as if he’s actually expecting to ever use it again, whatever Ons might say about ghost activity in his accounts. Swindle has never received a ghost call. He never expects to.

One number is dead.

Three others are at risk. Always have been. That’s reality.

And the last….

Does Swindle really want to add the last number – the only outsider to make the list -- to their reality? That’s the question he has a fraction of a moment to answer.

Because once he says Blurr’s name out loud, there will be no going back. Swindle has no doubts Onslaught will approve. He has no doubts Blurr will say yes.

That thought makes something twinge in Swindle’s gut. He knows now, as they’ve gotten older, that Blurr was never quite as naïve, never quite as ignorant to the realities of the world outside his own privileged lifestyle as Swindle had believed him to be when they first met. But still, the exact extent of what Blurr does and does not understand about Mecha is known only to the man himself.

Swindle has never told Blurr their secrets and he has no intention of starting now. It has always been nice to have someone who Swindle can act like he’s living a normal life with, even if just for an hour or two. Swindle will lose that, he knows. But they’ve all lost things before. They will lose things again. That’s reality. They’ve already come this far.

Onslaught says they need someone to act as a social shield between the average pilot and the higher ups. Someone who can be recognized as the person behind the machine. Someone who can bring attention to basic issues like mech safety. Someone far enough on the outside to still believe in things like the goodness of people and the heroic premise of saving humanity that Mecha has built up. (Someone that hasn’t had that belief stamped out of them by years of the training and the testing and the unceasing, caring violence of the war.)

Blurr meets all their criteria, Swindle knows. Blurr will agree if Swindle asks, even as Swindle knows he will have no idea exactly what it is he’s signing on to.

Blurr can act as their shield. And Swindle – Swindle will take on the responsibility of shielding Blurr from the truth.

Ooohhh fuck oh I love this gmdmfjjgkd

The inactive number PLEASE. It's. Yes. Swindle would bitch about Vortex being huge pain in the ass and then keep his number saved after his death. I'm fine

Also Swindle basically destroyed his last little island of normal life when he got Blurr involved and I can easily imagine he would often regret it. He would also question the decision A LOT after the incident with the fire.

Damn...Imagine hating the shiny smiley guy who lured you into literal hell and then one day looking at yourself and thinking - I'm that guy now...

Side note. Because I can't stop thinking of it. What if Vortex decides to call Swindle during the whole Shockwave situation? You know..like. When he breaks free from Shockwave's mind control he also breaks the programming that was preventing him from moving without a pilot? And for the first time he has actual freedom to do whatever he wants?

What if he tries to call Swindle? What if after all those years Swindle's phone rings and for a second Swindle can't even fucking believe his eyes when he sees who is calling? Just. You know haha. Just a thought:)

#maccadam #tf mecha universe #mecha writing #mecha bs writing #mecha bcb writing #swindle #Onslaught #blurr #Vortex

163 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 21 hours ago

Text

bf!kinich headcanons!

simple life.

bf!kinich x gn!reader

author's note: hi i'm back with something new after a month or smth anyway i hope you guys have been doing well^^ (this one is basically about how you two live and i'm excited to write for kinich lmao i hope he's not ooc)

"you like it, no?"

-(this man managed to become my favorite char after 3 years of scara)

-he's literally ideal like not only is he literally gorgeous, but he's also so fucking kind-hearted regardless of the fact that people see him as scary

-he's nonchalant but at he same time not at all

-anyways that wasn't the point

-he always wakes up before you somehow and if he has a commission early in the morning, he'll probably just kiss you goodbye and leave in silence

-but if he doesn't have any commissions early then enjoy the morning with him

-his good morning kisses are usually on your forehead, but you're sometimes lucky to get a kiss on the lips from him(he's such a good gentle kisser trust me)

-HE DOES THE COOKING IN THE HOUSE. NO EXCUSES. AND COOKS THE BEST FOOD EVER. (he's latino in my mind and i literally can't imagine him not cooking for his s/o)

-you can clean if you want but he's always cooking the best food ever and he loves doing it especially since he gets to see your happy face afterwards and your compliments for his cooking

-you two probably have a little garden near your house where he grows vegetables and you plant flowers all around as decorations

-if he ever comes home injured you're quick to patch him up and scold him about taking some random dangerous commission

-he says he won't do it again and that he knows exactly what you mean but it just keeps happening unfortunately

-i forgot to mention ajaw in your guys' relationship. well shit.

-he ruins any situation you have with him so that's the reason he's in timeout 90% of the time dw (the 10% is just arguing with eachother until kinich throws him to the sky)

-i believe he has ptsd in some way so nightmares might not be uncommon for him

-the worst this about it is that he would never tell you. never ever. he thinks it's not fair that you comfort him but he can't repay you in any way

-so even if you reassure him it's okay because he also comforts you, he always finds an excuse like "but i'm not good with words, my comfort isn't as valuable as your's."

-next up, he's probably not into pda

-sure you can hold hands and add a kiss here and there but it's nothing too much

-if you're into it, he'll try to make it up to you but it won't really work out too well so you can try to find a balance with him which will be easy for you both

-his love language is probably quality time with some additional physical touch and gift giving

-he has such gentle hands probably because he plays a lot of games(gamer kinich is undeniable)

-usually likes when you play with him because he finds it as something that builds your relationship further

-but if you just feel like watching him play that's alright as well like literally just sit on his lap while he plays some random game and you can fall asleep there because SOMEHOW he's pretty calm when he loses and doesn't exactly "rage" and just whispers "fuck/shit" or something

-he brings you trinkets from his commissions definitely especially when it's from somewhere far

-even the simplest things

-he'll make a bouquet out of random flowers and plants he found on the way and tie them together with some strong grass or something

-at night, when the both of you have nothing to do for the rest of the day, there's a few things you could do with him

-he could give you a massage, you could watch him play, you could play with him, he could simply cuddle with you, or watch a movie with you, or take a walk outside together, hang out with mualani and/or kachina, basically anything

-when he isn't with you he listens to the playlist he made to remind him of you

-loves when you send him videos of like cats and then say "us" because he finds it cute(he hearts every msg)

-very good at teasing but he doesn't do it often for whatever reason

-also doesn't really get jealous since he trusts you

-but he knows when you need him to protect you since you're like a rare emerald in his eyes

-doesn't break promises because he takes them really seriously

-if you suggest getting a pet(let's say it's a yumkasaurus in this situation) he would agree immediately

-he'll first of all explain to you everything you need to know about them and what they do, what they need and like

-and if you're okay with it in the end, then you can expect a yumkasaur as a present on your anniversary, birthday, or some holiday you celebrate

-he makes your birthday really special but ofc often forgets his own so when you surprise him it takes a second for him to understand the situation and then says you didn't have to

-finally, going to sleep with him is also perfect

-cuddles most likely, and if you prefer, he can play something simple like minecraft or stardew valley etc in bed next to you until you can finally fall asleep

-in simple words he's the perfect bf if his personality is what you're looking for :p

-(bonus for the people who also hc him as latino or simply spanish-speaking, he would definitely help you learn spanish if you don't already speak it. and if you also speak some other language he would love to try and learn it.)

~~~~~

DAMN this was long

probably because it was a random rush of motivation all of a sudden

i wish this happened more often smh i hope you all enjoyed anyway lol

| @mariaace <3

86 notes · View notes

juniperskye · 2 days ago

Text

You’re Not Alone In This.

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04 Hotch is my comfort character, maybe it’s because he takes care of others and I like that especially when I take care of people all the time, I’m like Cinderella in my house like no joke, if I don’t do it, nobody will ever do it. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do like an Aaron x Diabetic reader fic, as I have diabetes and it’s extremely difficult and exhausting and love to maybe see that with a comfort character of mine. Like Aaron does anything and everything he can to understand the reader and the illness, like when the reader sugar is high or maybe low, taking care of doctor’s appointments, medication drop off, just putting effort in I just want to read something that could comfort me in that way because it’s exhausting being a diabetic and having no one bother to care about it or put effort in, I’m alone essentially - I really hope you like this babe! I did my best!

Aaron Hotchner x Diabetic! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1709

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader has type 1 diabetes, mention of doctors and appointments, mention of medication/insulin management, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description – other than being a diabetic and having an insulin pump (worn tucked into their waistband or pocket) and an administration site located on their leg (there is mention of a site failure and relocation) as well as a sensor worn on the arm, reader is mentioned to work as well as being active in college courses (not full time), Hotch cares a lot, use of pet names, I think that’s everything – let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were the type of person who couldn’t bear the thought of burdening others. As exhausting as it was, constantly doing things on your own and taking care of others, you did so without complaint because things needed to get done. It would be much easier to just do them as opposed to putting it on someone else, or worse, adding weight to their shoulders.

This growing sense of solitude grew when you began dating Aaron. It wasn’t that he made you feel alone, actually it was quite the opposite! Aaron was always reassuring you that he was by your side through it all, especially as your relationship progressed. But as things intensified, you couldn’t help but notice the sag in his shoulders, bags under his eyes, and the air of weariness he exuded. Aaron had an extremely difficult job, one that had taken far too much from him, so who were you to make his life any more difficult than it already was.

You did everything in your power to hide things from Aaron – just to keep from filling his plate with anymore worry. You would suffer in silence through the highs and lows of your mental health, the business from working full time and taking classes at the local college…and even more so, your physical health.

You had kept the fact that you had type one diabetes a secret from Aaron…not because you were embarrassed or because you didn’t trust him, it was simply because you knew he’d make it his mission to ensure that you were taken care of, ahead of everything else.

But that was the problem with dating a profiler. Aaron could see through the façade that were your replies of “things are good!” “I’m great.” “Classes are going well.” “I feel fine, just a little tired.” Aaron knew that there was something deeper, looming under the surface, something you weren’t telling him. So, two months into dating you’d had to come clean.

“Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. I just wish you’d tell me so I can help you.” He’d beg.

“Aaron everything is fine I pro-”

“Please don’t say everything is fine…honey, you were basically lethargic the other day when we facetimed, and I was so worried about you.”

“I’m diabetic Aaron. That’s what was wrong. My sugar was low. But everything is fine.” You explained.

After that, Aaron made sure to keep a closer eye on you. Not so much that you’d feel suffocated or like he was babying you, but enough that he could tell if your sugar was too high or too low. Once Aaron found out you had type one diabetes, he dove into late night research sessions on what all your condition entails, how to best manage your insulin, what an appropriate level looks like, how to calculate your carb intake so the proper amount of insulin is being administered as well as how to change your site and how to use the pump.

The change in his behavior was subtle…but noticeable. Aaron started keeping small snacks or juice with him in the case of a sugar low, he also started checking in on you more frequently. When you moved in, the changes became far more obvious, Aaron was doing so much around the house – always doing the dishes, taking the trash out with him on his way to work, doing laundry on the weekends, setting up deliveries for your groceries. It was overwhelming to have someone this attentive.

“Aaron, I can do this!” You giggled as his arms snuck around you, pulling the vacuum from your grasp.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you don’t have to. I will.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you to go sit.

His overprotective nature didn’t surface until he witnessed a pretty intense low.

The morning had started off normal, you’d skipped out on breakfast, which wasn’t unusual. You’d completed an assignment for school and taken your dog on a walk when you started to feel off. It had been a little bit warm outside, but with the way you were sweating, you knew that wasn’t it.

You managed to get back home, but not without feeling lightheaded. You reached down to unclip the dog’s leash, and that’s when Aaron caught it, your hands were shaking, so much so that you were struggling to open the clasp.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I uh, I feel a little…” You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and with the other, steadied yourself on the entry table. “Can you – would you grab me some…some juice?”

“Yeah, honey why don’t you sit down.” Aaron quickly went to the kitchen and poured a glass of juice.

Aaron watched you insistently as you sipped the juice. He reached over to check your phone, to see if your numbers were starting to regulate. Taking note of the number beginning to rise, he sat next to you and rubbed soothing circles on your spine.

“Honey, did you eat breakfast this morning?” Aaron inquired.

“No, but I never eat breakfast Aar. When I do, my numbers usually end up to high and then I feel sick all day.” You huffed.

“Okay, we will figure it out. Maybe we should schedule an appointment with your doctor.” He suggested.

“It’s always been like this, it’s okay really.”

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

Aaron was far more attentive with your illness, going with you to your doctor’s appointments, asking them how to avoid highs and lows, figuring out the best way to manage your insulin. He also began to monitor your medication, making sure you never ran out and that the pharmacy was processing your refills, when they got low.

This day was not going the way you had hoped. Things had been super overwhelming, you had finals coming up for your classes and work had been particularly busy, truthfully you were exhausted. You’d been nauseas all day, your numbers elevated, despite your best efforts to lower them.

You had taken a break from studying to change the laundry when you heard Aaron get home.

“Hey baby!” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi hon.” You mumbled.

Aaron knew you had been stressed out about school and work, you had put your finals dates on your shared calendar, and he figured that was taking its toll on you.

“Why don’t I make us some dinner? I can grill up some chicken?” He posed.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can steam some broccoli to go with it.” You suggested.

“Perfect!” Aaron left you with a peck.

You’d finished up with the laundry and went to the kitchen, pulling out a water bottle from the fridge while you got started prepping the veggies.

Aaron glanced at you through the sliding door, he had noticed there were quite a few water bottles and cups scattered around the apartment, more than usual. He couldn’t help the bit of concern that crept in – you’d previously mentioned sugar highs sometimes came with unbearable thirst.

“Sweetheart, have you checked your number recently?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s been a little elevated today.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, a little nauseous but I’m fine.”

The two of you sat and ate dinner while talking about your days. You told Aaron about a new project at work and how you were more than ready for your finals to be over. He shared that he had consulted on a few cases today with some law enforcement from other states – hopefully they wouldn’t get called away this weekend.

After dinner you’d excused yourself to the restroom and Aaron cleared up the table, placing the leftovers in the fridge. He made his way to your shared bedroom and softly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Baby, is everything okay?”

“Aar, I’m fine.” You sighed.

“Would you let me in? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“I don’t need help – Shit!” You hissed.

With that Aaron let himself in the bathroom, worried that you were hurt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my site.” You were fiddling with the site attached to your leg.

“Honey, why don’t we change it out, I can help.” Aaron moved to grab everything you’d need for your new site. “Is your sensor good still?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, go lay on the bed.” He commanded gently.

You went to lay on the bed, sliding your sweats off, carefully moving your pump to lay beside you on the bed. Aaron made his way over to you with the new injection set. He assisted you in removing the old one and placing the new one, taking note of the needle being bent slightly.

“Sweetheart, I think this is why you’ve been high all day. Your insulin wasn’t injecting properly.”

“Ugh. Stupid thing! Let’s just put in the new one so I can get this all sorted out.” You stressed.

You had tears in your eyes. Not from the pain of the needle entering your skin, or the sick feeling you’ve endured all day…but from the fact that you don’t get to have a normal day that’s carefree. Aaron has taken so much off your plate by being especially helpful with day-to-day things, but this feels like too much and you feel so alone in your illness.

“Alright honey, you’re all set.” Aaron began cleaning up all the trash from the new injection set.

“Thank you.”

“Hey sweetheart…” Aaron began. “I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I want to help you in anyway I can, whether it’s changing your site for you, doing the dishes after a long day, or even just to give you a hug.”

Your tears were falling freely at his confession. You had never felt so seen, so weightless, so supported. You let your head fall back and your shoulders finally relaxed.

“I love you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me Aaron.” You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“I love you too sweet girl.” Aarons arms enveloped you as his lips connect with your forehead.

88 notes · View notes