#do just tell me if you guys want something longer

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: jealousy, angst, pining

word count: 3.1k

tw: alcohol use, swearing

a/n: hii my lovely’s! i honestly dk how i feel about this chapter, but i hope u guys enjoy it regardless. also please ignore the shift from past to present tense 😭 i realized i fucked it up like mid way thru but oh well! the movies i mentioned are also so good GO WATCH EM. and if u cant tell i love blushing i find it so cutesy. ALSO ONE SHOT IDEAS PLEASEEEEE. anyway, enjoy and hope y’all have a good week!

CHAPTER THREE

paige has a problem. it wasn’t that her aim was off, causing her to miss shot after shot. it wasn’t that her coach was yelling at her to get her head in the game. no, it wasn’t any of that. it was the fact paige couldn’t stop thinking about the curly brunette, even if her life depended on it.

ever since practice a few days ago, when azzi’s body was flush against hers, azzi had owned paige’s mind. and since her head is elsewhere, she failed to focus on everything else, especially basketball.

“what’s wrong with you?” nika asks paige, confused as to why her game was off, which is extremely rare for her.

without basketball, paige had nothing. basketball gave paige life, ever since a young age. even after trying other sports, her heart was always set on basketball. so when paige’s game had been acting up, it made her teammates, as well as coaches, confused.

paige glances at nika, “what? nothing.”

nika gave paige a don’t bullshit me look, “paige, cmon. you’ve been missing shots all day. something’s gotta be up.”

paige didn’t, wouldn’t tell nika about paige’s tiny issue. “i don’t know. bad day, i guess.”

“well get your shit together. we need you for tomorrow’s game.”

paige looks over at azzi, who was on the opposite side of the gym with caroline, “don’t worry, i will.”

later that night, paige was already laying in bed when her phone buzzes. it was a text from aubrey, asking the team group chat if anyone wanted to hang.

dorka, paige’s roommate, was already quietly sleeping on the opposite side of the room. paige looks at the time, 9:41 pm; she figured hanging out with her friends wasn’t the worst idea.

paige soon arrives at aubrey’s dorm. she opens the door to find a variety of her teammates; nika was seated on aubrey’s bed along with aubrey, lou was on the floor, while azzi and caroline were on jana’s bed, who wasn’t present.

fuck. of course azzi would show up, despite it being late at night. it was as if azzi somehow knew paige had been thinking about her- appearing just to torment her.

the two met eyes, paige held eye contact a tad longer than she normally would. heat creeped up azzi’s neck.

since there wasn’t much room on either beds, paige slumps against the bed azzi was sitting on.

“so what were y’all doing before i came in?” paige questions her teammates.

“trying to decide on a movie, but nobody is agreeing,” nika replies, annoyance in her voice.

“i say we watch she’s the man, but everyone here doesn’t have good taste, so nobody agrees with me,” aubrey says, rolling her eyes.

paige turns her head up to azzi, “what was your suggestion?”

azzi was caught off guard by paige’s question, “uh, i said about time.”

“oh my god, i love that movie. i agree with azzi,” paige announces.

azzi was shocked, to say the least. she never imagined a world where paige would agree with her.

they settle on about time. nika grabbed a few snacks and passed them around, while lou brought a few drinks in from the tiny kitchen.

a couple minutes into the film, paige grew uncomfortable with her spot on the ground. azzi noticed it by the constant shifting she had been doing. azzi reaches down to tap paige’s shoulder.

“you can come up here if you’re uncomfortable,” azzi whispers so the others wouldn’t be disturbed, while softly patting the spot next to her on the bed.

paige notices that her and carol had already shifted down, making room for paige. her lips curled into a small smile.

without a second thought, paige lifts from the floor and gently sets herself next to azzi, thighs nearly touching.

“thanks,” paige whispers. azzi simply nodded her head.

throughout the movie, paige’s thigh would occasionally graze azzi’s, sending butterflies to her stomach. there was a spark between the two, surely azzi felt it too.

caroline passes a bag of popcorn over to azzi, who instantly begins consuming it.

“can i have some?” paige questions lightly so she didn’t cause distractions for the others.

“of course,” azzi smiles, placing the popcorn in the middle of them.

their hands would graze while both going for the popcorn, paige let her touch linger longer than she should. she knew better. but her secret azzi fudd obsession got the better of her.

“sorry,” paige mutters, pulling her hand away after embarrassment covered her features.

“i don’t mind,” azzi looks at paige, a soft expression on her face.

paige had always been beautiful to azzi, but in this lighting, in aubrey’s small dorm, sitting on the same bed, mere inches apart, paige looked unreal. her blonde hair was the perfect kind of messy, lips were light pink, eyes so blue that they were practically transparent. paige’s cheeks flush at azzi’s eyes solely focused on her.

“okay guys! i’m exhausted, i’ll see y’all tomorrow,” nika jumps up from her spot, causing heads to look over at her.

paige and azzi took their attention away from each other, despite it being the hardest thing paige had to do.

“yeah, i should go too,” azzi agrees, beginning to move off the bed.

“same,” paige says, also moving from her spot.

the three say their goodbyes before leaving out aubrey’s dorm door. during the short walk down the hallway, the girls discuss their excitement for the first game of the season. they came to the end of the hall, where they could go either left, right, or continue straight. nika headed straight, off to her room. paige was going left, while azzi was going right. but both didn’t make any hints to move yet.

paige leans against the wall, azzi mimics her by doing the same on the opposite wall. a small smile crept onto her lips.

“you ready for tomorrow’s game?” paige questions the younger girl.

“beyond ready,” azzi’s smile only grows. she’s been waiting for this moment since before she could remember; her very first game in college basketball.

“you better be. i’m definitely gonna need you,” paige says without thinking. her eyes widen at her use of i’m. “we, i mean.”

azzi’s cheeks redden at paige’s comment about her needing azzi. not the team- her, accident or not.

“are you ready? you seemed kinda distracted at practice,” azzi brings up.

“i’m fine,” paige says harsher than she meant.

not wanting to deal with paige’s attitude, azzi sighs, “alright. see you tomorrow.”

paige desperately wanted azzi to stay with her. she wanted to grab her by the hand and pull her close; but she knew she couldn’t do that.

“yeah, see ya.”

the next morning, paige immediately shuts down any azzi thoughts from the previous day. she needs to focus on the game. it was the first of the season, and she eagerly wanted to make it a good one.

she brushes her teeth, washes her face, dresses herself, as dorka did the same.

“ready for this, p?” dorka smiles, excitement buzzing off her tall frame.

“always,” she matches her smile.

the two girls grab their bags and head down to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. nika, aubrey, jana, lou, carol and azzi were already seated and eating away.

paige prepares her meal before taking the spot besides jana, directly across from none other than azzi. they quickly lock eyes before looking away equally as quickly.

the team discusses plays they wanted to run in the upcoming game, all participating and giving suggestions. they soon finish eating before heading down to the gym for some smaller workouts, to get somewhat warmed up.

paige was still struggling to make her shots that she’d normally be making. when azzi notices, she casually walks over.

“can i suggest something?” azzi asks.

paige looks over at her, “hm?”

azzi strolls closer to the older girl, close enough to where paige felt her breath on

the back of her neck.

“what are you doing?” paige asks, breathlessly.

azzi places her hand on paige’s, adjusting it to where she liked. she then moves her elbow, “fixing your form.”

once azzi was done, paige shoots the ball, and is surprised to see it actually go through the basket.

“thanks, i guess,” paige grins.

the two girls continue shooting, getting their reps in when the time came to begin actual warm ups.

the game was about to begin; paige, nika, aubrey, azzi and jana were the starting 5. azzi feels an intense amount of pressure to do well, since she’s the only freshmen starting tonight.

the five girls huddle together, wide grins on their smiles, beyond ready to get this season going. paige speaks words of encouragement to her teammates as they all get into position.

uconn was up by 31 points, azzi having 19 while paige has 21.

paige runs the ball up the court, eyeing each teammate of hers. she passes the ball over to nika, who throws it over to azzi. she effortlessly makes the open 3, causing loud roars from the uconn student section.

the team was on a 9-0 run in the third quarter when paige sprints near half court and collides with a member from the other team.

azzi watches it happen and rushes over a little too quickly, for someone who claimed to hate her. azzi appears in front of the older girl, who was lying on the floor face up, and gently places her hands on her knees.

“are you okay?” azzi asks, worry laced in her tone.

paige was silent for a moment, still dazed by the impact. but when she glanced up at the brunette, a sense of calm quickly washed over her.

“yeah,” she answers, grabbing azzi’s hands that were being held out to her.

their hands held onto one another’s a moment too long. their bodies were slightly touching; neither made any movements.

it wasn’t until coach auriemma yelled at them did either of the girls make a move. paige was substituted for ashlynn to rest, and eventually, azzi was also subbed out for caroline to give other players a chance to play, as they were dominating the opposing team.

azzi settles down next to paige, the only spot open on the bench. their thighs were full on touching since the seats were so tight.

azzi rests her elbows on her knees before turning to paige, “you sure you’re okay? that fall looked like it hurt.”

paige smiles at azzi’s worry, “why? do you care or something?” she teases.

azzi’s face lit up with red, “um, no. of course not.”

paige lets out a soft chuckle before playfully pushing the brunette’s face, who who responds with a wide grin, dimples and all.

paige matches her smile with one of her own. god. she was otherworldly.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” paige mumbles, barely audible for azzi to hear, while dropping her heads, wrapping her arms under.

“sorry, what’d you say?”

“nothing,” paige replies, definitely not repeating her words.

the game ends, the teams high five one another before heading to the locker rooms.

“guys, since we played so well today, we should definitely celebrate,” jana suggests.

“what are you thinking?” nika asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“ted’s, of course,” she laughs, “is everyone good with 7?”

each team member agree to meet at ted’s, the bar most uconn students attended, around 7. paige was buzzing at the idea of a dirty shirley temple, desperately needing one to get her mind off someone.

paige showered, applied light makeup, and picked out a comfortable but nice outfit.

around 6:55, paige leaves her apartment with dorka at her side, heading to ted’s.

the bar was absolutely packed with uconn students as well as the women’s basketball team. nika was talking to the bartender, aubrey was laughing at something jana said, while azzi was throwing back a shot.

the air seemed to shift when paige’s gaze lands on the young brunette. her heart instantly quickens as she took in her outfit. a light purple tank top that fit her in all the right places, paired with jean shorts that were doing wonders for her ass. her curls were down, slightly messy but in the most beautiful way possible.

making eye contact with paige causes azzi’s breath to hitch. heat floods her cheeks as she remembers the moments between them from earlier today.

stepping closer to the bar, paige lowers herself into an open seat, directly across from azzi who was completely surrounded by teammates. dorka took the spot next to her while lou made herself over to the two girls.

“dorka! p!” lou greets them, clearly already drunk.

“hey lou lou,” dorka smiles at her friend.

paige waves over the bartender, “can i please have a dirty shirley temple?”

the bartender nods, immediately reaching for a glass. paige was dying for a drink in her hand to take her mind off everything and everyone.

the shirley burns her throat as she took several gulps, downing nearly half the glass.

“calm down there, p,” dorka laughs at paige’s urgency to consume the drink as fast as possible.

“just thirsty,” paige replies.

after finishing her second shirley temple is when she noticed a tall man talking to azzi. her azzi. her fists clench at her sides as she throws a glare their way.

the man then lowers himself into the open seat next to her while casually shifting close, making their faces mere inches apart. azzi fidgets with her fingers, suddenly nervous from the attention.

paige presses her lips in a line to hold back her growing anger that was screaming to come out. all she wanted to do was walk over there and take what’s hers.

paige orders several more drinks, shots, whatever she could to hopefully get rid of the scene in front of her.

when a piece of azzi’s hair falls in front of her face, the man reaches out and brushes it behind her ear. his hand lingers for a moment too long, only causing paige to become more aggravated.

azzi laughs at something he said and paige decides she’s had enough. although she was completely aware she shouldn’t be doing this, she was supposed to hate azzi, she couldn’t help herself. she clutches her drink tightly in her grasp, a idea trickling in her head, and marches over there.

azzi almost instantly spots the blonde moving towards her at a rapid pace. her eyes widen when paige accidentally trips, spilling her drink all over the man.

satisfaction covered paige’s features, proud of her doing.

“jesus fucking christ!” he yelps, quickly jumping up from his position next to azzi.

“i am so sorry,” paige pretends to be genuine and concerned, even though herself and azzi knew it was complete bullshit.

the man grabs napkins, desperately trying to pat himself down, but ultimately failing. he walks away without as much as a glance back at the curly brunette, who continues to remain silent.

“did you seriously have to do that?” azzi questions paige, annoyance on her face.

“it was an accident, azzi,” paige sighs.

“sure it was,” azzi mutters as she grips her drink.

“it was,” paige replies defensively.

paige allows herself to sit where the man once was, feeling the air grow electric with the two being so close. azzi looks almost shaken by their close proximity, her eyes roaming paige’s body.

“paigey!” nika slurs, suddenly grabbing paige’s shoulders.

paige turns to her friend who was beaming, “what’s up nik?”

“oh my goodness, you totally missed it…” nika rants on and on about the hot bartender who was totally checking her out.

“i’ll be back,” nika grins as she jogs off to talk with the bartender once again.

“at least she’s getting some action,” azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“oh my god, i am so sorry i ruined the two minute conversation you had with some idiot. if you’re so interested in him, then be my guest; go find the fucker.”

“maybe i will,” azzi bites out, getting up from her spot and taking off towards the crowd.

it shocks paige that azzi actually went through with it- disappoints her, too. did she genuinely like the guy?

regretting her words, paige follows azzi’s trail, quickly catching up to the freshmen. she grabs her arm, making her twist around to face her.

“please, wait,” paige slurs in her drunken state.

“what do you want?” azzi questions, desperate to know paige’s intentions.

“you,” paige whispers, so quietly azzi can barely make it out.

“speak up, paige,” azzi replies, annoyed.

“please don’t go after him.”

azzi’s eyes crinkle, “and why not? you’re not my keeper.”

paige rests her hands on either one of azzi’s hips, uncontrollably pulling the younger girl closer.

“i know. i know,” she whispers, “just stay. stay here with me.”

azzi was taken aback from paige’s soft tone and sweet words. it was unlike paige to be like this to azzi, so azzi pieced together she must be drunk out of her mind.

“you’re drunk, paige,” azzi says.

“i’m sober enough,” paige’s lips turn up as she moves her hands to azzi’s face.

with her face in her hands, paige rests her forehead against the curly brunette’s, while her gaze drops down to her full, pink lips.

“what are you doing, paige?”

paige closes her eyes, not wanting to think about everything wrong with what she was doing and how it’d be like tomorrow.

“i don’t know. fuck, i don’t know. i just want to be close to you,” she whispers.

azzi gently places her hands on paige’s waist, pulling the older girl impossibly closer.

“fuck, az,” paige mutters, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

paige was all azzi could hear, despite the loud crowd and blasting music around her. and her words meant everything.

“no matter how hard i try, you’re always there. you with your perfect curls and cute ass dimples,” paige smiles, twisting with a singular curl with her finger.

“oh yeah?” azzi matches the grin.

“yeah,” paige says, gaze focused on her lips.

right as paige leans in, azzi suddenly jerks back, her eyes wide with panic.

“p- paige, no. you’re drunk. you’ll regret it tomorrow,” she stutters, frantically stepping out of paige’s touch.

paige reaches out for azzi’s frame, “no i won’t.”

practically tripping over herself, azzi rushes over to her previous seat with paige right on her heels. she grabs her belongings before giving a lone glance back at the blonde; she was breathing hard, hands slightly shaking, with a disappointed yet shameful expression on her face.

azzi turns away and is gone before paige had the time to blink.

“god fucking dammit,” paige mutters to herself, ashamed of her actions that caused azzi to run off.

paige finds an open spot at the bar and orders yet another round of shots, not caring about the concerned looks she was receiving from her teammates.

paige swallows shot after shot, trying to drown her sorrows and any lingering thoughts of azzi. of course she had to ruin whatever was happening between them. of course.

“paige, don’t you think that’s enough for tonight?” aubrey cautiously questions her friend.

paige drunkenly chuckles, “not even close,” throwing back another burning shot.

[p0orbaby]

Why Do I Give You the Worst of Me (1)

summary: love and bad decisions collide as you struggle to balance a tour and a relationship that’s spiraling out of control

warnings: 18+ adult themes throughout

a/n: another series i’m hoping i don’t regret committing myself to… not sure how many parts it’ll be, i don’t plan anything

word count: 3.1k

-

You wake up face-first on a sofa that smells like cigarettes, spilled beer, and faintly, vomit. Not yours, you think. The synthetic fabric is scratchy against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, it takes a moment to realise it’s morning—sunlight cutting through the cracked blinds, striping the floor with dusty light. The sofa is mustard yellow, ugly in a deliberate, trying-too-hard-to-be-retro way. It doesn’t belong to you. Nothing in this flat belongs to you.

There’s a girl in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she pours cereal into a bowl. You don’t know her name, but you know she wears Chanel No. 5 because it’s all you could smell last night when she leaned too close, whispering something you didn’t quite catch. Her hair’s a mess now—like spun gold caught in a tangle of barbed wire—but her makeup is still pristine. She’s the kind who sets her eyeliner with setting spray before going out, even if it’s just to the pub. You admire the commitment, if not the execution.

Your head throbs—a deep, insistent ache behind your eyes that reminds you of last night in bits and pieces: the gig (decent, though the sound guy fucked up your monitor levels), the afterparty (loud, sweaty, a haze of bodies and smoke), the lines of coke on a chipped coffee table, the bartender who kept giving you free shots because he recognised you from that NME interview last month. At some point, someone tried to fight you, though you’re not sure why. You vaguely remember smashing a bottle of tequila against a wall and laughing as glass shards rained down like confetti.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling, which is peeling in a way that suggests years of neglect, a building held together more by stubbornness than actual structural integrity. There’s a stain in the corner that looks suspiciously like mould, but you don’t care enough to investigate. The flat isn’t yours, after all. You were invited here by someone whose name escapes you now—a bassist from another band, or maybe it was their girlfriend? They’re gone this morning, anyway, leaving behind only the detritus of a night well-lived: empty bottles, crushed cigarette packets, a single black stiletto abandoned near the door like a fairy-tale gone wrong.

You light a cigarette, despite the pounding in your head and the fact that you’re pretty sure it’s technically illegal to smoke indoors here. The girl in the kitchen glances at you but doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure if she’s annoyed or indifferent; you don’t care. The smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet. Mornings like this are rare—where everything is still and soft, where the chaos of your life is temporarily held at bay by the thin walls of someone else’s flat.

Your bass is propped up against the armchair, scratched and battered in a way that tells a story if you care to look closely enough. It’s a Fender Precision, black with a white pickguard, the same model Sid Vicious used to play—not that you’d ever admit that’s why you bought it. The neck has a gouge near the third fret from when you threw it at a sound tech who deserved it (and missed). The strap is leather, worn smooth where it rests on your shoulder, and the bridge still has flecks of blood from the time you played so hard your fingers split open mid-song. You keep meaning to clean it, but you never do.

You check your phone, which is cracked and sticky with something you don’t want to identify. No new messages, except for a text from your drummer that reads: “u alive?” You don’t bother replying.

-

You’ve been in the band for five years now, though it feels longer. It started as a joke—a group of friends fucking around in someone’s garage, trying to see who could play the loudest, the fastest, the most obnoxious. Somewhere along the way, it became serious. There was a DIY EP, recorded in one manic weekend on borrowed gear, and a string of gigs in dingy pubs where the audiences were more interested in drinking than listening. Then came the break—a slot supporting a bigger band, one of those industry darlings who’d already started to hate themselves for selling out. The kind of band that wears matching outfits ironically, even though everyone knows it’s not ironic at all.

Now, you play sold-out shows to crowds who scream your lyrics back at you, though most of them probably couldn’t name your second album. Your face has been on the cover of Kerrang! twice, though you didn’t bother reading the articles. You hate interviews, but you do them anyway because your manager insists. You’re better at the photoshoots—smirking at the camera in a way that suggests you don’t care (you do).

The band is your life, though you wouldn’t call it that. Calling it your life makes it sound like you have some sort of plan, and you don’t. You’re just here, playing gigs and writing songs and doing whatever it takes to keep the wheels from falling off.

Your bandmates are a mixed bag of personalities, each one a walking caricature in their own way. There’s Matt, the drummer, who swears he’s been abducted by aliens and won’t shut up about it. Alex, the lead guitarist, is constantly high and insists on bringing his cat on tour, which you find deeply annoying. And then there’s Holly, the singer, who somehow manages to be both the most chaotic and the most responsible member of the group. She’s the one who organises rehearsals, books the studio time, and keeps you all from self-destructing entirely. You love her for it, even if you’d never say it out loud.

The girl in the kitchen finishes her cereal, rinses the bowl, and leaves without saying goodbye. You watch her go, not because you care but because there’s nothing else to do. When the door slams shut, the flat feels even smaller, like the walls are pressing in on you. You stub out your cigarette, grab your bass, and leave too.

-

Outside, London is already alive, though you wouldn’t call it awake. The streets are sticky from last night—spilled pints and kebab wrappers crushed into the pavement, cigarette butts floating in puddles of something that smells suspiciously like piss. The air has that distinct urban flavour: exhaust fumes mingling with fryer grease and the faint tang of wet concrete. You pull your leather jacket tighter around you, not because it’s cold (it is), but because it completes the look.

The jacket is vintage—or at least you tell people it is. In reality, you bought it at a high-street shop three years ago, and it’s held up surprisingly well, considering the abuse it’s endured. The lining is torn, the cuffs are frayed, and there’s a mysterious stain on the back you can’t quite place. But it’s yours, and it feels like armour. The boots, on the other hand, are real vintage: a pair of Dr Martens from the ‘90s you found in a thrift shop in Brighton. They’re scuffed to hell, and the left one squeaks when you walk, but you refuse to replace them because they’re authentic.

You head toward the Tube station, your bass slung over one shoulder like a soldier carrying a rifle. People stare, but only briefly. In London, no one has the energy to care for long. The morning commuters are a mix of suits and students, their faces blank, their eyes glazed over as they clutch takeaway coffees in one hand and their phones in the other. You feel out of place but also weirdly superior, like you’ve cracked some code they haven’t even realised exists yet.

You hop on the Northern line, ignoring the signs that politely request passengers to “refrain from eating or drinking.” You’re not eating or drinking, but you do pull out a cigarette, which is arguably worse. It’s a roll-up, so you convince yourself it doesn’t count. An old woman glares at you, clutching her handbag like she thinks you’re about to mug her. You offer her a crooked smile, which she does not return, and you put the cigarette back in your pocket because she reminds you of your nan.

The train screeches into motion, and you pull out your phone. The lock screen is a photo of your bass, which says a lot about you. There are a few notifications—mostly spam emails and an unread message from Holly: Rehearsal at 2. Don’t be late, dickhead.

You glance at the time. 11:47 a.m. Plenty of time.

-

The rehearsal space is in Camden, a dingy basement that smells of mildew and unwashed socks. The walls are lined with egg cartons painted black in a half-hearted attempt at soundproofing, and the floor is sticky for reasons you’d rather not think about. The room has seen better days—probably in the ‘80s, when it was still a nightclub and not a haven for struggling musicians. There’s a single fluorescent bulb overhead that flickers ominously, and a space heater in the corner that’s never worked.

Holly is already there when you arrive, tuning her guitar with the precision of someone who takes this far more seriously than you do. She’s wearing a denim jacket covered in patches for bands you’ve never heard of, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She looks up as you walk in, her expression equal parts exasperation and relief.

“Christ, you smell like an ashtray,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s called branding,” you reply, dropping your bass onto the floor with a thud.

Matt and Alex show up ten minutes later, looking even worse than you do. Matt has the kind of face that always looks slightly hungover, even when he’s not, and Alex is wearing the same shirt he wore yesterday, now with an impressive new stain across the front.

The rehearsal starts late, as it always does, and quickly descends into chaos. Matt insists on playing a drum solo during every song, despite the fact that no one asked for it. Alex keeps stopping mid-riff to check his phone, claiming he’s “waiting for an important call,” though everyone knows it’s just his dealer. Holly shouts at both of them until her voice cracks, then turns her frustration on you for being “completely fucking useless.” You take it in stride, plucking random notes on your bass and pretending to care.

-

At some point, Holly storms out, leaving the three of you to your own devices. Matt immediately pulls out a joint, which Alex lights with a lighter shaped like a naked woman. You lean back against the wall, your bass resting against your thigh, and watch as they argue over which fast-food place to hit up after rehearsal.

“McDonald’s is closer,” Alex says, taking a drag.

“But KFC’s got the gravy,” Matt counters, waving his arms for emphasis.

“It’s not even real gravy,” Alex snaps.

“None of it’s real,” you interject, flicking ash onto the floor. “We’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine.”

They stare at you for a moment, then go back to arguing.

-

By the time rehearsal ends, it’s dark outside. You pack up your gear, ignoring Holly’s death glare as she reminds you for the millionth time that you need to take this more seriously. You nod, mumble something about “artistic integrity,” and leave before she can yell at you again.

Back on the street, the air is crisp, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes you wish you’d brought a scarf. You light another cigarette, even though you’ve already smoked half a pack today, and head toward the pub.

The pub is your sanctuary, a place where time slows down and the only thing that matters is the next round. It’s a dive, the kind of place where the carpet sticks to your shoes and the jukebox is permanently stuck on a rotation of The Clash and The Smiths. You know the bartender by name, though you’re not sure if he knows yours.

You order a pint and settle into a corner booth, your bass case propped up beside you. The first sip is like a warm hug, washing away the stress of the day. You’re halfway through your second pint when you see her.

-

You don’t notice her at first. Not properly. She’s part of the blur—the dim bar lights catching on glasses, the low hum of half-drunken conversation, the vague sense that you’ve been here before even if you haven’t. She’s leaning against the counter, waiting for her drink, and it’s not until the bartender—a man whose name might be Pete but who you’re pretty sure is just “Oi, mate” to everyone who comes in—hands her a gin and tonic that you actually see her.

And it’s a gin and tonic. Not a lager, not a rum and coke, not something ironic like a snakebite or one of those craft beers with names like Hops and Robbers. It’s a G&T, clean and crisp, with a slice of lime balanced on the rim like it’s posing for a stock photo. The glass is crystal clear, and so are her nails—short, practical, painted the sort of soft pink that suggests she doesn’t chew them during stressful moments (unlike you). She takes the drink with both hands, like she’s steadying herself, and there’s something about that—the deliberateness of it—that hooks you.

You tell yourself you’re just looking because she’s there. Because it’s either her or the guy at the next table who’s been droning on about Bitcoin for twenty minutes straight. But it’s more than that. There’s a stillness to her, an odd kind of clarity that doesn’t fit in a place like this, like she’s wandered in from a parallel universe.

She turns slightly, and you catch her profile: sharp nose, strong jawline, cheekbones that could cut glass but probably wouldn’t because she seems far too polite. Her hair is blonde—not platinum, not peroxide, but the kind of natural gold that makes you think of expensive shampoo and childhood summers. It’s tied back loosely, wisps framing her face in a way that seems accidental but probably isn’t.

She’s not wearing makeup. Or maybe she is, but it’s the invisible kind—the kind that takes forty-five minutes to apply but looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed looking flawless. Her jumper is navy, oversized enough to suggest she might have nicked it from someone else’s wardrobe, paired with jeans that sit perfectly at her hips without being skinny. On her feet are white trainers—clean, like freshly ironed bedsheets—Adidas, the classic three stripes in black, laces tied neatly, no fraying ends.

You’re staring. You know you are. But she hasn’t noticed, so it doesn’t count.

The bartender mutters something to her, and she laughs. Not the loud, performative laugh you hear from most people in bars, but something softer, like it’s meant for her and her alone. The sound is so out of place in this dingy pub that it feels almost sacrilegious, like someone’s brought a cathedral choir to sing in a nightclub.

You tell yourself to look away. You don’t.

Instead, you light a cigarette, even though the pub is strictly non-smoking. You do it for the aesthetic, the same way you do most things. There’s a half-empty pint in front of you—lager, flat and warm, probably with someone else’s fingerprints on the glass—but you take a sip anyway, because what else are you going to do?

She turns then, her gaze sweeping the room, and you’re caught like a deer in headlights. For a second, you think she’s looking at you, but she’s not. She’s looking past you, at the dartboard on the wall behind your head. Her expression is curious, like she’s trying to figure out why anyone would bother playing darts in a place like this.

Then her eyes meet yours, and the world tilts.

It’s not love at first sight, not really. Love at first sight is for Disney films and Hallmark cards and people who shop at Waitrose without looking at the prices. This is something else. Recognition, maybe. Like you’ve seen her before in a dream or a half-remembered story someone told you once. Like you’ve spent your whole life waiting for this moment without knowing it.

She holds your gaze for a second longer than is polite. Then she looks away, back at her gin and tonic, and you realise you’ve been holding your breath.

-

You don’t approach her right away. That would be too obvious, too predictable. Instead, you wait, watching her out of the corner of your eye while pretending to scroll through your phone. It’s a shitty phone, cracked and outdated, but you’ve never bothered upgrading because you secretly enjoy the low expectations it sets. No one looks at you and expects success when your phone screen is held together with Sellotape.

She moves to a table in the corner, near the radiator, and sits down alone. No book, no laptop, no visible excuse to be here other than the gin and tonic in her hand. She sips it slowly, methodically, like she’s savouring it. Like she’s savouring this.

You wonder what her story is.

Is she waiting for someone? A friend, a boyfriend, a clandestine meeting with a lover? Or is she just one of those people who can sit alone in public without feeling like a target? You’ve never understood that kind of confidence—the kind that lets you exist without an audience, without a role to play.

You take another sip of your pint, then decide, fuck it.

You stand, grab your bass (because leaving it behind would feel like abandoning a child), and make your way across the room. Your boots squeak against the sticky floor, and you curse them under your breath. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing vaguely at the empty chair across from her.

She hesitates, just for a moment, then nods.

“Sure.”

Her voice is soft, but not shy. Measured. Like she’s weighing every word before she says it.

You sit, placing your bass case carefully against the table leg. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re not sure what to say, and she seems content to let the silence stretch. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s not easy, either.

Finally, she breaks it.

“You’re in a band,” she says, nodding toward the bass. It’s not a question.

You smile. “Yeah. What gave it away?”

She raises an eyebrow, and you realise it’s a stupid question.

“What’s the band called?”

You tell her, and she nods, like she’s vaguely heard of it but couldn’t name a single song.

“I’m Alessia,” she says, holding out her hand. Her grip is firm, her skin warm.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, and for the first time in a long time, you actually mean it.

[maeedrg]

NEW PIERCINGS ?

Gojo x nipples pierced reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which reader just got her nipples pierced, and wants to make it a surprise to her boyfriend. Well, he really liked it.

Words count : 3k

Warnings : fluff, swearing, smut, reader is fem, nipple play, half public sex, squirting, p in v, pet names, kinda jealous Gojo ?

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I got my nipples pierced this weekend, so I needed to do a fanfic about it.

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡⋆⋆ ｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆

Ouch. It’s so damn sensitive. Why is it so cold outside, anyways ? And the damn wind that goes through your clothes and hardens your nipples really wasn’t what you needed right now. Barely some minutes ago, you went to your favorite piercing shop, and got your breast pierced. On both sides. The fresh jewel on your flesh that gets colder because of the wind, reminds you how sensitive the area was for now. You sigh, sucking up a breath and deciding to look at your phone. You didn’t answer the texts of your boyfriend, after all. But you had a good reason. These new piercings were a surprise ! 

From ‘ Kakashi 2.0 : 

“I just ate 11 mochis, my belly hurts”

“nevermind I have room for more lol”

seen

“uh why aren’t you answering your beautiful boyfriend…. the fuck”

“alright girl in what position you guys are”

“HEY ARE YOU DEAD ?!!!!”

“The way I’m going to hollow purple this bitch you are with if you don’t answer right now”

seen

Oh oh. You can’t stop yourself from having a laugh escaping your lips. Both from silliness at Satoru’s text, and from nervousness. Yeah, maybe you did ignore him for half of the day… But hey, your excuses are valid ! And you didn’t think he would notice, since today he had a busy schedule, normally. As you walk back home, a bit like a truck, to avoid your clothes from brushing too often your nipples and the pain that comes with it, you decide to text back your boyfriend. The moment you start to type, suddenly two long arms wrap around your stomach and smash you against the chest of someone. You open wider your eyes, startled, but quickly relax when you recognize this familiar cologne that you love oh so much.

“Police, got the cheater ! What can you say to defend yourself, baby, uh ? I bet he didn’t even fuck you that well,” exclaims Satoru’s voice in your ear, pouting slightly and when you turn your head you can imagine how his eyebrows frown behind his blindfold.

“You scared me here !” you answer, breathing back normally and keeping your body rigid. Without knowing, the way he was hugging you from behind made the tissue of your clothes tighter. Which means hurting your sensitive breast. You bite the inside of your cheek to avoid hissing of pain.

“You are the one that scared me ! Why didn’t you answer for so long ? Didn’t you say you had nothing to do today, and would stay at home ?” continues your boyfriend, frowning and looking at you up and down. He directly notices how your body is tense. Weird…

“I wasn’t cheating on you, you idiot. But sorry for not answering, I had something to do,” you answer vaguely, taking off his arms from your waist. At first he keeps his iron grip around you, but sighs and loosen his hands when seeing your discomfort.

“Awww, you’re so mean. I still manage to text you when I’m killing curses, so what got you so busy to not be able to do it for a whole afternoon ?” he asks, pouting even more as he slides his hand in the small of your back while walking next to you towards your shared apartment.

You couldn’t tell him that you were occupied with going to the piercing shop (which was a bit far away from home), waiting your turn, then getting pierced, and everything that comes with it until… now. Yeah, it took longer than you thought. 

“Well, I'll tell you later,” you simply answer. Satoru opens his mouth and closes it back, frowning more and tightening his fingers on your hip. You open the door of the building at the same time, and he whines.

“What do you mean ? Is it a new way to torture me by testing my patience ?”

“Poor baby. The Great Gojo Satoru gets bullied by his girlfriend,” you roll your eyes saying that, grabbing his arm to pull him towards you and kiss his cheek. He immediately grins back at the contact of your lips against his cold skin.

“You gotta tell me quickly, then. If you don’t want to face the wrath of The Strongest…” he jokes, before taking your face and chastly kissing your lips mischievously. 

“I’m shaking from fear…” you tease back against his mouth.

A bit later, and after some silly back and forth, you force your boyfriend to wait in the bedroom while you go to the bathroom. Indeed, before showing him your surprise, you needed first to clean it from the small amount of dried blood. Even if Satoru was used to seeing gruesome things everyday, you insisted in your mind that you didn’t want it to be his first impression of your new decorated nipples. So you carefully wash them, with delicacy and care. You hiss slightly, trying to not move too much the jewel, the sensitivity of your skin making it a hard task. Once you are done, you put back your shirt on top and exit the washroom. 

At the sound of the door opening and closing, Satoru perks up and straightens back his seat on the bed. He looks at you, legs sprayed on manspread as he puts down his phone to the side.

“Took you long enough,” he complains.

“Don’t pout. Now are you ready to know the reason why your amazing girlfriend ignored you all afternoon ?” you ask teasingly, tilting your head to the side.

The white haired man quickly nods, eager to know. He even was bouncing his leg up and down, clearly impatient to finally have his answer. You smile, wider, and lift your shirt, exposing to your boyfriend your pierced nipples. Satoru pauses, and then slowly lifts his blindfold to reveal his blue eyes. The look on his face was something you needed to remember. You could feel his Six Eyes staring right back at your chest. 

“No way….” he whispers, cheeks slightly turning red and a cheeky grin forming on his lips as his pupils swing left and right to look at both.

“Yes way. You like it ?” 

He suddenly brings you closer, making you stand in between his legs as he analyzes your breast. He knew it like the palm of his hand, but he needed to discover it all over again now. He was fascinated, intrigued, biting his lower lip in excitement.

“I fucking love it. That’s so hot ! Why didn’t you tell me ? I would have come with you !” he cheers as he looks up at your face, then back down, then your face, then down. His long fingers help you remove your shirt completely, having free rein to touch your skin and admire your torso.

“I wanted to surprise you, that’s why,” you explain.

“Did it hurt ?” Satoru asks as his left thumb softly caresses the bottom of your breast, while the right one brushes your ribs.

“Yeah. But it was quick, to be honest. So it wasn’t that bad. But it’s very sensitive right now, even the brush of clothes can be uncomfortable or hurtful,” you describe as you recall the feeling of the needle, and how a hassle it was to walk down the street with your shirt and jacket touching them every second. 

“Sensitive, uh ?” he muses, his fingers about to touch your bundle of nerves, but you quickly snap it away. He pouts at your glare.

“Nuh-uh. No touching. Your hands aren’t washed, and it will hurt. Plus, I have to avoid touching the jewel or moving it as much as I can for one month,” you quickly explain, facing the sulking face of your man-child boyfriend. He opens wider his eyes at your words.

“One month ?!”

“One month, yes. My piercer said too that I can’t have any contact with… a mouth on it. For at least one month.”

The moment you say that, you see all colors leaving the already pale skin of Satoru. He couldn’t believe it. One of his favorite activities, which was sucking on your tits when having sex, was taken away from him. No way, no way ! He was doomed, cursed ! At what cost ? He couldn’t deny, it looked incredibly hot. But by seeing them, it made him crave touching them, toying with them, and exploring this new aspect of possible sensitivity on your body. That was like a new game to him ! And damn, he couldn’t even play with it for at least one month. That was hell on earth. Alright, maybe he was being a bit melodramatic right now. But Satoru liked to exaggerate when he couldn’t have what he wanted right on the spot.

“Y/n, you’re killing me here. That’s too looooong !”

“You gotta wait, love. Safety first,” you retort, shaking your head as he sighs theatrically, letting his face be buried in your stomach.

“I promise, when it’s healed enough, I’ll play with your tits so much you’ll cry for me to stop,” he pouts, muttering that, gazing back up at your face. You chuckle, caressing his hair. He really was a menace.

“Hey, don’t make me suffer here. I’m just doing what my piercer told me to do. He was clear about no contact-”, you start to say, before Satoru cuts you in the middle of your sentence, “he ?!”. 

You roll your eyes, trying to not laugh at his over exaggerated facial reaction. “Yes Satoru, he.”

“I can’t believe that you betrayed me like that… First you cheat on me with your piercer, and now I can't suck your tits for one month. What a tragedy ! The downfall of The Strongest…” he exclaims, dramatically falling backwards on the mattress behind him, bringing you to straddle him while he puts his free hand over his forehead as if he just fainted. 

“It’s literally his job ! You really are a drama queen…” you slightly chuckle, flocking his forehead and he whines at the pain. When he was with you, he really reminded you of a husky. Always being loud over every tiny inconvenience, or just any situation, to be honest.

“Well, maybe I can’t suck on the gorgeous boobs of my girlfriend, but I can still eat her out. Right ?” he suddenly states, lifting himself on his elbow and eying you down with his stupid wolfish grin of his. 

“Well, technically yes, but I didn’t shower so-”

“Perfect then !” he interrupts you as he flips you over, gently actually, to be sure to not hurt you, and then in a swift movement takes off your pants and pry open your thighs.

“Satoru, I still didn’t have time to shower !”

“You think I care ?” he answers as if you just said the dumbest thing ever, bringing your leg over his shoulder and kissing the inside of your flesh.

“Satoru…”

“That would be my distraction for one month, deal ?” he asks, eyes meeting yours as he kisses the top of your panties.

Oh, you were in for a ride. Of his face. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

Heavens could be applause, time has come. You finally, finally could go back to your… activities with Satoru, as your piercings were healed enough. Through the weeks of healing, you realized that the myth of having this area pierced could possibly bring a higher sensitivity wasn’t fake. And your boyfriend was adamant on testing that right now. He was eager, way too eager, maybe. Satoru couldn’t wait, to the point that when you gave him the green light this morning by text, he decided that the moment he would finish his daily missions of exorcizing curses, he would do it.

Hell, he was being for real ! You were walking in the corridor of the campus, when a tall figure teleported right in front of you. You lift your head, a bit startled, and sigh when you realize it simply was your boyfriend.

“Satoru ? You already finished your miss- ah !” you get cut off the moment he grabs your legs and swings you over his shoulder, lifting you up and carrying you like that without a care in the world. His hand slaps your butt, staying on it to keep you steady as you now are hanging over him.

“I made it quick,” he simply answered in a tone of voice that meant business. Oh, the tension was high, very high.

He opens the door of an empty classroom, and closes it swiftly behind him, locking it in a soft thud. He puts you down on a table, looming over you.

“Love, it’s a classroom, what if some students enters-”

“Nobody will, I made sure of that,” he answers quickly, taking off his blindfold and looking at you with such hungry eyes that you shiver. Oh, the man was starved. 

He unbuttons your jacket and throws it on a chair, before doing so with your shirt while he smashes his lips against yours, not letting you answer him. There was no time to even talk, his mouth was eager. Why talking, anyways ? When he could instead please you like you both dreamed since the night you came back home with your little… surprise.

 His lips were moving against yours with need, and in no time you felt his cold fingers cup your breast. He presses himself in between your thigh, and at the same time his thumb caresses your hardened nipple, toying finally with the jewel. You open your eyes at the feeling, and let out a strangled moan of surprise. Fuck, it indeed was more sensitive than you remember it being before. After so long, this area was damn touch starved. And God, how good it felt, and that just from a small tiny touch.

He smiles against your lips, and presses his hard crotch against yours. Painfully hard, actually. Satoru bites your lower lip as he pinches your bundle of nerves, his other hand doing the same on the right side. His tongue invades your mouth and you quickly start to feel overwhelmed. He swallows your sweet moans of pleasure and whines of relief at the sensation. It started to feel warm, and you wanted more stimulation. Why was it so exciting ?

He chuckles and trails his lips down your neck, to your collarbone, tongue sliding towards your left tit. Without more useless teasing, his lips are on your nipple, and his tongue swirls around the jewel. You yank your head backwards, biting the inside of your cheek. His eyes are on you the whole time, drinking your cute facial reactions each time his tongue flickers on the top of your nipple, or on the way the jewel slightly moves left and right. He goes to suck on the right one, using his left hand to continue to stimulate both at the same time. 

“Feels good, uh ?”

You nod, not understanding how pleasurable it was. Because fuck, your body was on fire right now. The sensitivity of the area went skyrocket, and you squeeze your thighs around the hips of your lover as he continues to grind against your clothed cunt. He lifts a bit more up your skirt, allowing him more space to stimulate you down there as he eats your tits hungrily like the starved man he is.

“How cute,” he muses, sliding your panties on the side and pulling a bit down his pants to press his boxer against your slit. His voice rumbles against your piercing and makes you giddy. He was sucking on them so much it started to be sore, but you didn’t want it to stop, because you craved it to the bones.

You have no time to ride your pleasure that you feel his cock tapping a few times against your clit before smudging his precum and your wetness together, and then entering in one go inside your pussy. It went as easy as damn butter, you were so fucking soaked. And Satoru couldn’t help but roll down his eyes at the sensation, biting slightly your nipple to tease you and make you squeeze your walls around his dick. Just like the way he loved. Good, very good.

“So fucking tight-” he mutters, kissing back your lips to slide his tongue inside your mouth, using both of his hands to play with your breast now while he pounds quickly, chasing some relief and wanting to drive you faster to the edge. After all, it was risky, and you guys couldn’t fool around too long. He just wanted to make you cum first, to drive you slightly crazy. Tonight he would have all the time of the world to completely take care of you and your tits. Right now it was just… a trial.

“Wait, I’ll-” you babble, moaning louder as he tugs both piercings at the same time, thrusting hard inside your dripping walls. 

“Wait ? Nah,” he chuckles lightly, slamming his hips faster as he yanks your hair to allow him access to your neck, sucking on it and leaving a red mark. Well, that was inappropriate, other people could see it, but who cares. Satoru didn’t give a damn about that, anyways.

He slaps your tits before sucking back on them, gripping your ass to bring you even closer. You clench your pussy around his cock, the feeling overwhelming, his hot and wet mouth stimulating exactly where you wanted him too, his tongue working magic. Both the sensation of the coldness of the jewel, and the warmth of his tongue, was an amazing duality that made your head spin.

The pleasure was so good that you suddenly cum all over him, legs shaking and accidently wetting a bit of his boxer and the bottom of his shirt. You breath heavily, his lips kissing your tit before looking slowly back up at you while you come down your high. He smiles, still inside your cunt, not done yet with you, and straightens back as he bites his lower lip. He then asks : 

“Maybe I should get my nipples pierced too. What do you think, sweetheart ?” 

THE END 

[demigod-shenanigans]

Okay but. Hear me out. Platonic m/f soulmates specifically in a heteronormative society.

Soulmates are understood to primarily be a romantic thing by society, because they’re meant to be the most important person in your life, and a lot of the time that person is your partner, but not always.

Reyna who grows up with Jason’s name on her wrist. Who gets through her shitty childhood partially through thinking one day she’ll meet her soulmate and he will love her and things will get better

And then she does meet him and he does love her, but it’s not how she expected it to be. He loves her, but it doesn’t seem to be in the same way she loves him.

And then even the goddess of love tells her she’ll never find love with her soulmate, and Reyna can’t help but wonder if she’s fundamentally broken in some way.

Jason who grows up just wanting to be loved, no matter in what way. Who has Reyna’s name on his wrist and is delighted when he meets her and knows they were meant to be friends. But he’s not sure he loves her in the way he’s supposed to. And he’s overjoyed that he has her, but sometimes he feels sad, because maybe that means there’s something wrong with him.

Leo and Piper who grow up with each other’s names on their wrists. Who find out during the meteor shower and kiss exactly once only for them both to immediately realize this feels off, but if that means they’re broken somehow, at least they can be broken together.

But then something shifts. Hera mixes up their memories and they no longer remember. Leo is stuck thinking his soulmate has a boyfriend, and maybe he’s one of the unlucky few people who is soulmates with someone that has a different soulmate. But then he looks at Jason and Piper together. And sure, he jealous, but it’s not Piper he wants to kiss, and he’s so confused. She’s the one who’s meant to be his soulmate. So then why does he think about what it would be like to brush his fingers through Jason’s hair?

Piper who doesn’t properly remember wilderness school but does realize her love for Leo isn’t what it’s supposed to be. She loves him so much, but she’s not in love with him like she should be. But surely Hera and her mom put her with Jason for a reason. Maybe there was a mistake with her tattoo. Maybe she was supposed to have Jason’s name written on her wrist. Maybe she’s not broken.

Except Jason’s tattoo says Reyna. And it’s clear that he misses whoever Reyna is. He says he doesn’t think he liked her like that, but she’s his soulmate, so surely he does. The name is burnt into Piper’s mind before they ever meet.

And when they do, she wants to hate Reyna. Wants to hate her for what it will mean for her relationship with Jason that Reyna exists. Wants to hate her for being proof that there is something fundamentally wrong with Piper.

But Reyna is beautiful and strong and a natural leader. Jason is lucky to have a soulmate that awesome. (And sometimes Piper kind of wishes Reyna was her soulmate instead of Jason’s.)

Reyna who wants to hate Piper because she’s the girlfriend of the guy who was supposed to be her soulmate. Who might be the reason Aphrodite looked at her and said she wouldn’t find love where she wanted or expected. But Piper is gorgeous and brave and stubborn, and Reyna doesn’t hate her. Sometimes she thinks it might be the opposite. Sometimes she wonders if that’s what her prophecy meant.

Jason who is loved in so many different ways after a lifetime’s worth of feeling unloved. Who is so confused how romantic love is supposed to feel in comparison to platonic love. Who loved Reyna and Piper but never like he was supposed to.

Who holds Leo in his arms and wonders if that’s what home feels like.

It’s Leo who figures it out eventually. He’s venting to Hazel about the whole situation after the incident with Nemesis and Hazel looks at him dumbfounded because “what gave you the idea soulmates had to be romantic??”

“Please tell me one example where it isn’t. You can’t.”

And Hazel just stares at him, then slowly rolls up her sleeve to show Leo the name on her wrist is literally her brother’s (which makes a lot of sense because obviously without Nico she wouldn’t even be alive right now. He changed her life in a way no one else could have)

And. Yeah. That one is kind of hard to argue with

And there’s nothing wrong with the way any of them love each other. They’re not what society expects soulmates to look like. But they’re all so very loved, and being loved platonically isn’t less valuable than being loved romantically just because it’s different. It’s not what they expected looking at the names on their wrists for the first time. But it’s still love, and maybe that’s the only thing that matters.

[writerspirit]

Chapter I

Pairing(s): Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

Series: Schemmenti Family Agenda

Synopsis: After a student makes a comment to Y/n, Melissa takes into consideration what the next steps in your relationship should be.

Themes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst (please let me know if there are any warnings to be aware of)

A/N: I first wrote this part in an early morning surge of energy. I've already started on part two, so be on the lookout for that. I've also started an outline for an Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!Reader w/ "magic baby" trope.

WC: ~ 2.15k

Having kids wasn’t something you thought to ever be on the agenda. It never was with you and Melissa. Both you and her being elementary teachers for Abbott, the only kids you two ever talked about “having” were your students. It has been a nice flow between you professionally. You being the other first grade teacher in the school, a good amount of kids in your class progress to your wife’s classroom in their following school year. These handful of kids are called by the other teachers as the “Double Schemmenti” kids, which you and Melissa find endearing.

These little aspects of your life at Abbott make being a teacher for these kids the best job anyone could ask for. Not to mention having the role of being these kids’ mentor, even sometimes their parent, is a gift in itself. So, whenever babies were a thought, it was more of a subtle whisper, rather than a thought-provoking idea.

That is until Melissa walks into your classroom after school one day to find you with one of your students playing with the deck of cards she so graciously lent for the room. 

“Hey, honey,” she smiles, making her way inside.

“Mrs. Schemmenti!” Aspen squeals. “Mrs. Schemmenti is teaching me how to play Kings in the Corner. It helps with my counting.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” The redhead looks over at his hand and smiles. “Maybe next year you’ll be able to get a good grasp on poker so that you can beat all the chumps at the table.”

Aspen gives her a quizzical look. You, a furrow of the eyebrows, telling her to test the waters. She mouths a ‘sorry’ along with a low smile. Bringing her attention to your cards, she chuckles. “I don’t know, Mrs. Schemmenti. I think the kid’s hand is just enough to rattle you outta luck.”

Aspen’s smile turns to a little dance in place, in anticipation for his next move. 

You bring yourself to feign a sigh. “I think you might be right. I just can’t believe Aspen is so good already, and it’s his first time playing.”

Melissa shuffles back next to Aspen, who glances at her before she nods. “Take her down, kid.”

He rushes for a card before calculating his line of moves to play. With what seems to be one swift motion, his cards disappear from his hand and onto the floor with the others. “I got ya, Mrs. Schemmenti! Victory is mine!”

You giggle along with him. “You got me!” You and Melissa dance with him, doing your own little dances in place. Once he’s seemed to settle down from his victory dance, you help him pick up the cards.

“Why don’t you practice your shuffling while I talk with Mrs. Schemmenti?”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll go sit at my desk.”

“Okay.”

“He’s a quick little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Smartest kid in the class. Maybe the smartest I’ve ever taught.” You peek at him, seeing if he’s focused on the cards in his hand, which he is. “His mom is working a little late today. The divorce hasn’t been easy for either of them, so I told her that I can stay with Aspen a little later than the allotted time for pickup.”

Melissa sighs. “Don’t I know it. Divorce is tough. I can’t imagine the added stress of having a child during the process.”

You quickly take a look at your watch. “You don’t have to wait up for me. Janine and Ava have step practice today, and I’m sure I can catch a ride with one of them if you want to go home. I know you have grading to get done.”

“I can wait here with you and the little guy. Grading can wait a little longer, and besides, I don’t want you catching a ride with either of ‘em as long as I’m here. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I’d been responsible for another Janine car ride migraine.” Her lips perk up into a smile.

"I swear if I hear another lecture on the benefits of different colored highlighters, I’ll–"

“Mom!” Aspen squeals, getting out of his seat and running to his mother’s arms. She lays a soft kiss on his head.

“Hi, Aspen. How was school?” Dina’s eyes turn from his to yours. “Was he okay?”

You nod. “The little champ beat me in Kings in the Corner.”

“And I know how to shuffle now. So now I can help you when we play Uno.”

“Great job, honey. And I’m sure now you can help me beat Grandpa when he comes to visit next week.”

Aspen seemingly lights up brighter than before. “Grandpa’s coming? Yay!” He envelops her in a hug.

“Honey, why don’t you grab your things so I can talk to your mom?” Your eyes quickly glance at his belongings that sit on and around his desk. 

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Melissa moves towards Aspen. “I’ll help him get his things.”

“Thank you for everything. Really, you’re a lifesaver.” Dina lets a sigh leave her lips. “He’s really been doing great through this whole thing.”

“No disruptions, no problems. I wish I had his positive attitude all the time. And hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind getting beat at cards. He’s a smart kid.”

Dina smiles.

“I’m ready,” Aspen says. He walks up to meet his mother’s side, where she places a hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. Schemmenti?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You’re gonna make a great mom one day,” his smile widens before he says his goodbyes to you and Melissa. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, kid. We’ll see ya,” Melissa adds. She turns to you. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” you grab your bag’s handle, but it’s quickly taken away from you when the older woman grabs it. “Melissa, I can carry my stuff.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” She smiles as you grab hold of her arm.

Walking out of Abbott, you both send smiles and your own goodbyes to a few colleagues. Your hand never strays from her arm, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what are you feeling like for dinner?” She asks.

“Are you asking because you feel like cooking, or are you asking me because you want to just order takeout?”

She chuckles. “I was actually asking because I could go for anything you wanted to cook.”

“Enchiladas, then.”

“Well, they’re your signature.” She places a kiss on your temple.

When you reach the car, she walks with you to the passenger’s side, opening the door for you. “My lady,” she smiles watching you take your seat. She hands you your bag, and closes the door.

You reach over to the door and pull the door handle for her. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Anything for my girl,” you say. Her hand instinctively rests on your thigh as she starts the drive to your shared home. You move a hand to graze her arm.

“So,” Melissa starts up a new conversation when you hit upon a red light. “Aspen gave you a really nice compliment there, huh?”

“What?” You take a moment to think back. “Oh… yeah, he’s a really sweet kid. I hope you get to teach him next year. I mean he already loves you.”

Melissa turns the music up a bit, as your favorite song plays. While you’re jamming, she hums along, singing the words in her head. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa is thinking harder than she’d care to admit to about Aspen’s words. Had you given any thought to having a child of your own? She hasn’t expressed any interest in having a mini Melissa since she was younger, when her sister had her first baby.

As if the memory played out word for word, she remembers how crushed she was when, while holding her then baby nephew, Joe completely shut down the idea of growing their family. 

As if you know she needs a distraction of sorts, you speak up, taking her out of her thoughts. “Oh, honey, I think we need to stop at the grocery store. Is that okay with you?”

She nods and forces a smile for you.

– – – –

Melissa’s hand never leaves the small of your back while you push the cart. Along the journey of getting the ingredients necessary for your dinner, she looks around every aisle that you walk through. Almost finished with the aisle you two are currently in, you start your way towards the registers. As you wait in one of the lines, Melissa picks up bits of the couple’s conversation happening in front of her, talking about their excitement in welcoming their own bundle of joy in seven months. 

“Melissa?”

“Hm,” she turns her attention towards you.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been almost quiet since we left school. The only times I ever experience quiet Melissa is when you’re scheming. Well, that or you’re planning someone’s meeting with justice.”

“I’m fine, hon.” She places her hands on either side of your waist, and places a few light kisses on your temple. “I’m perfect.”

– – – –

“Amore,” she starts.

“Hm,” you hum, sipping your wine.

“Nothin’.”

“Baby,” you reach your hand and place it gently on her own. “What’s up?”

She has a glint in her eyes. One you’ve only seen two other times �� when she was too nervous to ask you to be her girlfriend, and then again when she asked you to be her wife. By this, you know she has got something big on her mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, her voice not leaving a low tone. She focuses her attention on her plate, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Okay…” you start. “But I will. You have the look.”

“What look?” Her eyes bounce to you, now wide, awaiting your response.

“You’ve only ever looked at me twice like that before, and both times they were because you had something big to get off your chest. Now please…” You place your hand on her thigh. “What is it, Melissa?”

“You ever thought about maybe… I don’t know… it’s just us here. And sometimes I feel it. The… space.”

You stay silent, trying to piece together what she’s going on about. Was she getting sick of you? Was this marriage too much for her? She doesn’t skip a beat though. Her rambling is starting to sound like she is convincing herself of something, in hopes you’ll say what’s bothering her, so she doesn’t have to. That’s when in the midst of your spacing out, there is only one sentence that makes you freeze.

“Maybe an addition to us wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“You want to have a baby,” she can’t tell by your tone if you were stating it as if it were a fact, or rather forming it in a question. “Like… a baby.”

“No, wait, I didn’t say that,” her voice rises in pitch. “Per say.”

You wait a minute, in case she has more to say. “Okay…”

Crap! May day! May day! Retreat! Her thoughts tell her.

She downs the beer that is left in her bottle. Her hands grab for your plates and starts her way to the kitchen. “Just forget I said anything.”

“But, Melissa–”

“Please, just forget it, Y/n.”

– – – –

After dinner, you and Melissa snuggle up on the couch. Your face is nestled in her neck, giving soft kisses where you know she loves them. This would usually lead to you ravaging each other until the sunrise spills through your curtains. Tonight, however, doesn’t look like that is in the cards for you.

Your hand begins drawing patterns on her thigh, as you continue your kisses on her skin. “Your thoughts are loud tonight, my love.”

“Hon,” Melissa whispers, her voice almost impossible to hear over the television. As if on cue, the Dancing With the Stars theme sings for you. “Look, the show is starting.”

The rest of the night is much quieter than usual. Adding to your worry, Melissa doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about the episode as she usually is. There’s no yelling at the television, rarely a chuckle, and not even a snack to go with the episode.

As the episode ends, Melissa breathes a heavy sigh. “Ready for bed?”

You take a look at your phone which reads the time. “Yeah,” you say with simple directions. “Just… give me a minute and I’ll be up.”

She nods as she rises off the couch. She makes sure to place a gentle kiss on your cheek before heading upstairs.

At the sound of Melissa ascending the stairs, you quickly grab your phone. Opening your Contacts app, Barbara Howard’s phone number is already in view for you. With a second to think on a decision, a sigh leaves your lips, and the clicking of the power button shuts the device off.

Sleep on it. Whatever it is.

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 8

When John opens his eyes it is to a ceiling. That is his first indicator that something had truly changed.

He remembered bits of his last few weeks. His men had found him and pulled him from a gulag, an outdoor prison in northern Siberia. He had lost a lot of weight to simply keep warm enough to move breath. Turning his head with aching slowness he found the other side of your bed rumpled and still releasing heat.

“I’ve got him. I’m sorry I didn’t see your calls last night. John was at the door knocking and once I got him settled I couldn’t spare a thought for my phone.” Your voice shifts as if you are pacing in the hall. “Can you bring by some clothes and his toiletries?”

John rolls enough to rest his head where your smell remains the strongest, listening to you and his muppets plan on how to care for him while he heals. John knew he would need time to heal from this.

“When you get here can you stay long enough to help me get him washed up? I know he will feel more human with a little care.” A pause as you listen to whoever is on the other side of the line. “Yeah, I will ask him. See you soon.”

He would smile if his cheeks could contract with his face on the mattress. John had decided in Siberia that if you would have him he would marry you the moment he could stand for longer than ten minutes without needing a rest. You had mumbled to him in your sleep when your eyes could no longer stay open last night. Resting on your chest he felt the most tethered to his body and this planet he had since he had been taken.

The door opens on silent hinges. You find him instantly with his face pressed into the mattress. He hears you moving but doesn’t shift yet, waiting to see how you would react. Two fingers touched his pinky. As that had not been what he expected John pushed up with one arm to look at you.

Kneeling by the bed, chin resting on the edge you watched him.

When he caught your gaze you smiled at him so gently he felt a knot of emotion loosen ever so slightly in his chest.

“Hi, John. Can you stand?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded damaged even to his ears.

“Alright, let’s go brush your teeth then and get you some breakfast. One of your guys will be coming over soon with clothes and to help you in the shower. I have just two questions for you about all of this okay?”

John braces for a question that will turn over pain, memories wriggling like worms in the warmer soil of home.

“First question, do you want eggs, bacon, and toast or oatmeal for breakfast?”

He blinked at you. The words should have all made sense in that order but they didn’t. You wanted to know what he wanted to eat?

“Oatmeal,” he creaked.

“Wonderful, I have fresh fruit and jams and syrups. Now second question.”

He braced again.

“Your Lieutenants would like to know how you got off base. Can you tell me?” You look at him with such concern, as if you were worried he did something that might hurt him further.

The broken laugh hurt his throat. It caused his chest to ache with unshed tears as well. You rubbed a hand over his wild hair as his laughs morphed into tears. When he had cried himself out, a wet spot on your bed and your eyes glistening as well he told you.

“I got to my desk, pulled out my emergency cash, and walked out.”

“You just walked out?” The incredulous look you give him warms him. Even frostbitten and thin you stare at him as if he could hang the stars for you.

“Yeah, waved by to the guards as I passed and waited for my cab.”

You stood on your knees pressing your forehead to his.

“I’m so glad you made it back to me,” you whispered, a single tear falling to his wet spot on the sheets.

“I fought,” he whispered back.

“And you made it. Now I won’t kiss you until you have clean teeth.” You send him a big, bright smile. “Up you pop. If you’re stable on your feet I will leave you in the bathroom and get our oatmeal started.”

To his chagrin, John was stable on his feet. He didn’t trust himself to not actually fall over if he faked it so he let you lead him to the closed lid of the toilet seat, hand him a new toothbrush, and slid from his view. The comforting sounds from the kitchen slid through the space. With his mouth clean he did feel more human like you said he would. Keeping a hand on a wall John made his way into your eat-in kitchen, the bright space warmed him from the inside out with bright colors and thriving plants on the counter.

The instant you heard him you turned and pulled him into your arms. You feel like home. He holds you until the oatmeal begins to bubble. Twisting in his arms you turn off the stove and try to move to get some bowls.

“John. You need a shower, one of your guys will be here soon to help you wash. You are already shaking. Go and sit down.”

He takes the command, getting a small thrill of you telling him what to do. You serve him up as much as he will eat and by the time Roach arrives, John is falling asleep at the table. He gives John a gentle hand and helps him in and out of the tub leaving John feeling cleaner than even the time his grandmother had washed him and stripped a layer of skin from him. Roach settles him into bed with only a pair of boxers, John’s preference of sleeping wear when given the chance and John is asleep before he is fully covered with the blankets.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

That’s how your relationship officially starts with John you think, with him sinking into your bed in the middle of the night after escaping unspeakable horrors. He recovers day by day. His men visit and often spend the night on the couch. They loved him and wanted to see for themselves that he had put on weight and started smiling again.

The day he went back to work again he came home early to take you on a proper date. He wore his Christmas suit and you wore your New Year’s dress. John told you he had informed all of his muppets to stay away tonight, and that he would shoot anyone who tried to crash your date.

You weren’t worried. You were almost positive that he wouldn’t shoot to kill. But you had also gone ahead and texted the guys that if any of them appeared at your flat tonight then you would personally take in all of their pants a centimeter at a time until they busted through seams like the Kool-Aid man through a wall. They had all gotten the message.

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

[rinawantstosleep]

"I don't like your stupid, white hair." 

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does." 

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable. 

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!" 

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made. 

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that." 

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts. 

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious." 

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.  

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?" 

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other? 

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Cue a tiny gasp. 

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?" 

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe." 

. . . 

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Atta girl. Now, you go that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Sunflower Summer | Pt4

Felix x Plus Size Fem! Reader

He's home for the summer; but what does three months together mean for you and your best friend?

🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️

"Y/N-ah! Yongbok-ah!"

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face deeper into the warmth beside you, unwilling to wake up. The blanket around you was heavy, cozy, like an arm was draped across your waist, holding you close. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. Why on earth was Mrs. Lee in your dream? That was weird. You sighed again and snuggled even closer to the warmth beside you; that same warmth reciprocating the cuddles.

"Y/N. Yongbok. It's time to get up, it’s almost 10."

Wait, that sounded even more real. Your brows furrowed as you frowned. Was she actually in your room? Why would she be-

"Y/N! YONGBOK! TIME TO GET UP!"

Your eyes flew open, startled awake, and you shot up in bed- only to be smacked in the face by Felix’s arm as he jolted up beside you. “Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your cheek just as Felix’s sleepy voice mumbled, “Huh? What’s going on-”

But he stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening with horror as he saw who was standing in your doorway.

His mom. And yours.

Both women were smirking their expressions knowing and a little too pleased for your liking.

You groaned, and you felt your face flush, a heat spreading from your cheeks to your neck as you yanked the blanket up to your chin.

This is embarrassing.

“Y/N, you didn’t tell me Felix was spending the night last night,” your mom said, raising an eyebrow, her tone teasing. Your mortification only grew, and Felix’s eyes went as wide as saucers, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. You were more than sure the warmth on your face could probably be felt miles away, mistaken for the Australian summer heat.

Holy crap I can't even look at them...I want to crawl in a hole.

“Nothing happened, Mrs. L/N, I swear! I would never! You know me I-” he stammered, his voice cracking with panic. He glanced desperately at his mom. “I promise we did nothing with each other I swear- we just slept- I-I just forgot my keys in my other pants and-”

He cut himself off, realizing he was only making the situation worse, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole. You risked a glance at your guys' mothers, who exchanged an amused look- one that said they believed him but wouldn't let either party live this down.

You mumbled something about getting dressed, avoiding their humorous gazes as you scrambled out of bed, tugging your shirt down and praying Felix hadn’t gotten a glimpse of anything too embarrassing. You’d meant to wake up before him, to sneak out and put on something a little less revealing before he stirred. But the comfort of his embrace had been like a lullaby, and you'd slept in far longer than planned. For a fleeting second, you wondered if it was simply exhaustion or if it was because being wrapped in his arms felt…safe.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the thought of doing that forever. Waking up next to him...

You shook the thought out of your head.

When Felix escaped to the bathroom to brush his teeth, you sank back down onto the edge of the bed, covering your face with your hands and trying to calm your racing heart. You could still feel the warmth of his body beside you, the lingering trace of his arm around your waist. It had been so natural, so easy to fall asleep in his arms, but now…you didn’t know what to think. Because now you couldn't deny what Felix made you feel.

What you felt for Felix.

Meanwhile, Felix stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush dangling from his lips, his thoughts spiraling. His hair was a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and all he could think about was the way you’d felt nestled against him- soft, warm, and perfectly at home in his arms.

He sighed and gripped the edge of the sink.

He couldn’t stop replaying the sensation of your hair against his cheek, the steady rhythm of your breathing against his chest, the way you’d fit so effortlessly against him.

She’s my best friend, he told himself firmly, rinsing out his mouth. But…is it wrong to want more? Can I really blame myself? Isn't this bound to happen? Best friends to lovers...

He spit out the water and let out a sigh. His heart thudded, unsteady and full of emotions he couldn’t quite name.

Shit...

He couldn't hold back from it. He just let the thoughts run rampant in his mind.

He loved the way you felt in his arms, the way you relaxed against him as if he were the safest place in the world. Maybe he was your safe place. And that terrified him. What if he said something that changed everything? What if he ruined the one thing he cherished more than anything?

She’s soft, he thought helplessly, his fingertips tingling as he remembered the warmth of your waist beneath his palm. She’s soft and warm and…and perfect. His heart clenched, a nervous, giddy feeling unfurling in his chest. And couldn't help but smile at the thought.

And that's when he knew he was in trouble. This wasn’t just a harmless crush anymore; it was something deeper, something that made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t expected.

I'm falling in love with her. I already love her...but now I'm in love with her.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gave himself one last look in the mirror, still feeling the echo of your body pressed against his, and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

Now that I'm decided, I can’t mess this up, he thought, determined and scared all at once. Maybe ease into it...I know she loves me but that doesn't necessarily mean it's a romantic love...

Back in your room, you were rushing to change into something less revealing- something you wouldn’t mind Felix’s mom or your own seeing you in- when you heard a soft knock on the door. Felix’s mom peeked her head in, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Sweetheart,” she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice, “Don’t be too hard on him, okay? He’s always had a soft spot for you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wh-what do you mean?”

She just smiled, a secretive, gentle smile that left you more flustered than before. “I think you know what I mean, dear,” she said, winking before disappearing down the hallway. You could hear her and your mom giggling over a cup of coffee as they did almost every morning, as you let the thought marinate in your mind.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your mind spinning. Did she know? Could she tell what you’d been feeling- those forbidden little thoughts you’d been trying to push away? Or was she referencing her only son's feelings?

A part of you wanted to believe it wasn’t obvious, that you could keep your heart safe and your friendship intact. But another part- the part that couldn’t forget the way Felix’s arms had felt around you; the part that couldn't pretend to be oblivious to Felix's wide eyed stares and smiles- wondered if you were stupid for trying to fool yourself.

It was just hard to truly believe someone like Felix couldn't look at you like that.

Felix emerger the bathroom, walking into your room then, his face pink and hair a little less disheveled. He hesitated when he saw you, hovering in the doorway with that nervous, boyish look you’d seen a thousand times before. But this time, it felt different. Everything between you felt charged, like you were on the edge of something you couldn’t name.

“Um, you ready to go?” he asked, his voice almost shy. "We're still going to that cafe...right?"

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile that felt a little too bright. “Let’s go.”

The car ride was quiet, the tension between you both palpable to the extent you could feel it pushing on your throat. You could feel Felix glancing at you from the corner of his eye, and your heart ached with the effort to act like nothing had changed- when it was hard to deny that something had.

And when you finally pulled up to the café, you were so focused on calming the erratic beating of your heart that you almost didn’t notice Felix’s hand reaching for yours. It was a fleeting touch, a soft brush of fingers that sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. You froze, your gaze snapping to his, and the vulnerability you saw there made you want to cry.

“I-” he started, then stopped, his voice catching. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I just…I don’t want things to be weird between us, Y/N.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, your voice small, and suddenly you were both laughing- awkward, nervous, but laughing, nonetheless. It broke the tension, at least for a moment, and you were able to breathe again.

But even as you sat together in the cozy café, talking about everything and nothing, you couldn’t ignore the silent question hanging between you, one you both seemed too scared to answer.

Could you still consider this just friendship?

Later, when you walked along the beach together, that question only grew louder in your mind, your heart pounding as Felix pulled you aside, his eyes so open, so hopeful, and you knew- knew -that everything was about to be acknowledged.

Felix’s fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled you closer to the water, the waves crashing rhythmically in the background. He let out a small giggle as the water tickles his bare feet, his sandals thrown haphazardly a few yards away. His grip was warm and firm, his thumb brushing absently against your knuckles, and you didn’t pull away. It felt too good, too right- but also a little dangerous, like you were stepping onto thin ice without knowing if it would hold.

You stopped walking when the sand grew damp under your feet, the tide lapping just inches away from your shoes. Felix’s hand slipped from yours and he turned around and you looked up, your breath catching at the intensity in his eyes.

His smile was frozen, and then it became a little bit sadder, his eyes smiling a bit more than his mouth.

“Y/N,” he began, voice louder than the waves, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped, and you felt your heart start to race. You wanted to tell him not to- wanted to stop him before he said something that would make it impossible for you to pretend anymore. But you couldn’t speak. You couldn’t do anything but stand there, caught in the gentle warmth of his gaze.

The setting sun bathed everything in golden light, painting Felix’s features in a way that seemed almost unreal. The glow kissed his skin, turning his freckles into constellations scattered across his cheeks, and lit his honeyed hair like a halo. Shadows danced around the curve of his jaw, the line of his nose, and the soft curve of his lips, making him look like he’d stepped out of a dream. The world seemed to slow, the gentle hues of orange and pink blending with the quiet hum of the moment, as if the universe itself conspired to make this feel like a scene out of a drama.

You couldn’t help but think that if love had a face, it would look like Felix in this moment, draped in the dimming rays of sun, glowing just for you.

Felix stepped towards you, his hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you froze, the world narrowing down to the feel of his palm against your skin.

It was soft, a few callouses from holding a mic or a pen continuously years on end, the delicate bump of some unknown scar-

He was so close, his breath mingling with yours, and for a heartbeat, you thought he was going to kiss you. You felt yourself sway toward him, your body betraying your mind.

“Can… can we just try something?” he asked softly, his voice as gentle as the sea breeze. “Just…let me try something, okay?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but you nodded anyway, your breath hitching as he leaned in. His forehead touched yours, and you closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin, the comforting scent of him. He was so close, so achingly close, and your entire body tingled with anticipation, with hope.

The tip of his nose touched yours, his brown eyes squeezed shut in anxiety.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaking, “I’ve been trying so hard not to say this, but I can’t- I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel anything. I don't want to pretend when there is a chance that...this...this could be more."

Your breath caught, a soft gasp escaping your lips. He was saying everything you’d been too afraid to admit to yourself, everything you’d been trying to bury beneath the guise of friendship.

“Felix, I-” you started, but he cut you off, his thumb brushing against your cheek, and he open his eyes; pleading. His hands dropped to fit in yours.

“Y/N-ie.” he said, his voice raw. “I…I like you. A lot. More and more everyday. I'm falling. And I can' stop. I don't want to stop." He swallowed looking at you with a desperate look, his eyes watering a bit. "And I know it’s risky, and I know I might be messing everything up, but I can’t-” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to your joined hands. “I can't keep acting like I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For a second, you couldn’t breathe. The world felt like it had stopped turning, the waves around you muted to a distant roar. You wanted to say something, to tell him that you felt the same way, but your throat had gone dry, and all you could think was this is it. The line you’d both been dancing around for years had finally been crossed, and there was no going back.

Felix’s eyes were wide, vulnerable, and you saw the panic start to creep in as the silence stretched between you. “I mean,” he blurted suddenly, his words tumbling over each other, “if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. We can just pretend this never happened and—”

“Felix,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “Felix, stop.”

His breath hitched, and you inched closer, feeling the pull between you, the magnetic force that had always been there, but you’d never dared acknowledge until now.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and I didn’t want to ruin everything either, but-”

His face scrunched up in relief, and before you could say anything more, he closed the distance, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was barely more than a whisper, a question waiting to be answered, and you answered it by kissing him back, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, like you were both afraid of breaking the fragile bubble that had formed around you. When you finally pulled away, breathless and a little dazed, Felix was grinning so widely it made your heart skip a beat.

“Can I…be your boyfriend?” he asked, the words almost trembling on his lips. “Can I have the honor of being the one who loves you?”

Your heart soared, and you felt tears of elation prick at the corners of your eyes. You bit your lip, nodding so hard your hair bounced around your face, and managed a shaky, breathless, “Yes. Yes, Lix.”

He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh and pulled you into a tight hug, his face burying in the crook of your neck. You felt him shake, his relief palpable, and you held him just as tightly, feeling lighter than you had in years.

But then, just as the warmth of his embrace threatened to overwhelm you, you heard it- the soft, unspoken, whisper of a doubt at the back of your mind. A whisper of insecurity, the old, familiar fear that you weren’t enough, that someone as bright and beautiful as Felix couldn’t possibly want you for long. You pushed it away, burying your face in his shoulder, focusing on the way he held you like you were something precious, something worth cherishing.

And yet, the doubt lingered, quietly, subtly, in the back of your mind, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. What if he changed his mind? What if you weren’t enough? He was an idol after all...

What if your image- an image you hated so much; ruined his image- one you loved so much it was almost unfathomable.

You forced yourself to ignore it, to focus on Felix’s smile as he pulled back, eyes shining with happiness. “Then it’s a date,” he said, his voice light and teasing, but you knew he meant more than just the trip to the beach. He meant everything- the future, whatever came next for the two of you.

Because that's what Felix was. He was genuine. And he always intended his words to be genuine too.

When you walked hand in hand back to the car, you would let yourself be happy. You would hold onto him, hold onto this feeling, and hope that it wouldn’t all come crashing down.

That was your resolution.

As Felix opened the car door for you, his face flushed with excitement, and you saw the way he looked at you- like you were the most important person in his world -you couldn’t help but let back in that small, worry that nestled itself in your heart.

Maybe, just maybe, you were worth loving. Maybe you could be enough for him.

It just all seemed too good in your distorted view.

So as Felix leaned in for one last kiss before starting the car, you kissed him harder, desperate to push it away, to prove to yourself that this was real.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was just out of reach, like there was a quiet, unspoken threat hanging in the air. Felix’s laughter, the warmth of his hand on your knee, and the easy comfort of the car ride felt perfect in every way- but that nagging doubt still lingered, refusing to let you fully relax.

I know Felix means what he says...so where is this uneasiness coming from...?

You sighed as Felix pulled off, your eyes lingering on a small blue car for a second longer than necessary.

The road outside the car window blurred past, the streetlights flickering softly in the growing night. You turned your gaze away from the passing scenery, noticing the road ahead of you was bright, but not from Felix's headlights, rather the person behind you, headlights way too bright.

Your chest tightened, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

"Are they blind or something?" Felix joked a bit, stepping on the gas, running his thumb over your knuckles. "If there is one thing I hate more than people who don't use turn signals, it has to be people who put their brights on when its completely unnecessary, its agitating." He mumbled in distaste, deciding to take a less busy back way, the car speeding off ahead.

You frowned, unsure if you were just being paranoid, but a cold chill ran down your spine. "Yeah..."

Felix hummed a happy little melody, clearly lost in his own thoughts, shooting adoring glances at you every few seconds, but you couldn’t shake the sense of unease that clung to you.

Felix noticed your change in demeanor and glanced at you, his expression softening. “You okay, angel?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile, your stomach turning in a good way at the pet name. “Yeah, just...thinking.”

He seemed to buy it, lifting your hand to his mouth to kiss it, but the shadow of worry lingered.

As he put the car in park and turned off the engine, the world outside felt eerily quiet. Felix leaned over and kissed you on the cheek again, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself bask in the comfort of him.

“Call me when you get inside,” he whispered, his voice laced with tenderness.

"You can see me walk in, silly. My front door is right there."

"Baby." Felix frowned.

You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile and laugh. “Fine, fine, I will...See you tomorrow?” You asked with a hopeful lilt.

He smiled back, a glint of something deeper in his eyes, something that made your heart flutter. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You didn’t want to leave him just yet, didn’t want to break the bubble of warmth you’d both built, but the moment you stepped out of the car and into the cool night air, the unease crept back in full force. You waved as Felix pulled away, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, something, was watching you.

The chill you’d felt earlier returned as you walked into the house, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. Your heart pounded, the house feeling unusually quiet, and you quickly locked the door behind you, glancing out the window. It was just your imagination, you told yourself. There was nothing to worry about.

But deep down, you knew you were wrong, as you watched bright lights sink into the distance.

🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

@halfchrissyhalfuniverse

🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️

[aristaspark]

You're like, the greatest Kenlynn shipper I know. You have any idea of why do Darius love Brooklynn if they're not going to be canon? That kind of plot is very common and Kenlynn already break up. So why? I know Brooklynn didn't wanted their relationship to end, but I don't see how they will keep going... You said something like "Darius learning how to deal with rejection is a mature theme they would bring here". But Kenji learning to let go wouldn't be a mature theme too? Or Kenlynn realizing it can't work is also a mature theme...

Hello, well, first things first thanks for the compliment 😭 (?)

So to adress your point, me saying that Darius's arc being about dealing with rejection (and his guilt) makes for a compelling storyline doesn't mean that I think the same can't be said for Kenji and Brooklynn.

That's why I wasn't even mad when they introduced the storyline in season one, because it was believable that Darius could fall in love with her and it was very in character for Brooklynn to be obsessed with an investigation to the point where she neglected Kenji, it made sense and was simply very good writing. So, yeah, coming into season 2 I was sure they were going to take the "kenji/brooklynn both realize they could never work" route and shove dinostar down our throats to build them up, because looking at the story as a media with a fandom, that was what seemed more likely.

But then there was the promotional material in which Brooklynn only wrote to Kenji, which made me really doubt my conviction. And then season 2.

I think I already listed pretty much everything that suggested, at least to me, that the writers were going for Kenlynn, or AT LEAST that dinostar would remain platonic.

I wouldn't have been mad if they had made dinostar canon (still possible), it was kind of expected since they had Darius fall in love with her. But season 2 suggests it's not the direction they're heading towards (according to me at least) and honestly, I'm glad.

I'm happy because they really stepped up the writing and character conflicts since jwcc, and to me having Brooklynn reciprocate his feelings would be REALLY questionnable writing at best and straight up fanservice at worse.

In universe Brooklynn has been with Kenji for 6 years. They have being a couple for far longer than they have ever been friends. And it was Kenji who broke up. And you want me to believe she would fall for her a guy she has always seen as her best friend only a week after her break up? 😭 Mind you, a best friend she only visited because she was still obsessed with her investigation, not because she wanted to see him (proof she was like that with everyone, her relationship with Kenji wasn't the problem, it was her).

My take on Darius's arc was basically me trying to understand where they were taking his character, why they had introduced this storyline in the first place if it wasn't gonna go "anywhere" as everyone puts it.

But that's the point, we're so obsessed with shipping that we basically forget that it's not all that makes a story, and IT SHOULDN'T BE.

Darius having this arc wouldn't have been in vain even if he doesn't end up with Brooklynn. It gave him his entire arc in season 1, with him being filled with grief and guilt over her death, and it also gave him his conflict with Kenji. It made his character compelling, relatable, interesting. Like, shipping isn't all that matters, whether they end up together or not it's such a compelling story, so why would they refrain for telling it simply because of fandom culture? And to me it's just a testament of how better the writing has gotten since jwcc. The characters no longer have one dimensional relationships/conflicts with each other but have real conflicts/problematics. I'm not only speaking in terms of shipping, but also other storylines. Sammy not speaking to her family, her and yaz struggling with their long-distance relationship, Ben's paranoia, Kenji loosing two of the two most important people in his life back to back, having a death wish, Brooklynn loosing a limb, being cut from all the people she loves for months...

It's clear the writers are putting the characters in very uncomfortable situations, like, death wish and the loss of a limb, please ???

So why would Darius be any different? Why would they refrain from tackling the subject of unrequited love, of messy feelings and confusing friendship with love?

I think that what I'm trying to say is that it's a mistake to look at jwct the same as jwcc/as a kids show cattering to the fans. They're clearly not writing storylines to please the fans, but want to tackle very real subjects, and treat their characters as real people and I respect them so much for that.

I'm gonna stop here because I feel like I'm repeating myself (which I totally am, I'm sure I already wrote that in my endless ramblings). Sorry if I got carried away 😂

And (because I feel like I need to say it) I could be TOTALLY wrong. I'm only making theories on my account, I don't know sh*t except from what's in the show, so it's totally possible dinostar will end up together making me look like a clown 😂

[dialoverswritesssx]

Headcannons for Laito (just like generally)

some silly , some fluff some mature.

-I think that laito would be a very clean person (just overall ) taking care in his appearance and showering regularly

-is the type to wear perfume

-would be ok (and perhaps even enjoy ) his s/o putting makeup on him or doing his nails. Not because of the makeup aspect but because its something differernt that he hasnt tried before , also the attention his partner would be giving him , laito would try hold eye contact and make his face follow you around so that you would have to look at him

-wants to be percived as a happy/funny/unserious person. We kinda see this in the anime but when you know about laitos past , he actually really cares for people : his brothers and cordelia (but thats abit more complex) I saw a great post on this but i carnt remember from whom.

-Right so its cannon on how he has a fear of bugs , but I think laitos more afraid of how they move , like he thinks spiders are the worst because of the way they have their legs move ewww

-Throws away partners when bored / too serious . Yeah. One thing about laito is the way he gets bored easily ( partially from being immortal ) , he hates clingy women , becuase of his views on them . In one of his endings he tells yui to stop resisting becuase in the end all women want someone to look after them. I think that also once he has "broken" a partner , the chase is no longer intresting and disgards them .

-Is a sadist so will hurt partners . ( HAVE U SEEN THIS GUY ANGRY IN ANY OF HIS ROUTES , A ANGRY LAITO IS NOT A GOOD LAITO)

-would go *at it * anytime anywhere with anyone at anyplace . ( in the games he belives it to be more fun if one of his bothers joines in but not azusa for some reason??)

-hates anyone who wears flip-flops ( gives that vibe)

-WOULD NOT LET U CUT , DYE OR STYLE HIS HAIR ITS THE ONLY THING OFF LIMITS

-keeps familiars on his partner at all times

-is good with kids but would never have any ( would be VERY protective if he did but , doesnt want that responsibility also fear of traumatising them lolll )

thats all let me know secenarios to do next !!! Ill try write anything just keep it intresting ! ( no richter tho ) sorry for any spelling mistakes and if you disagree / have questions feel free to ask and correct me !!!

PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS (DL ONLY )

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.43

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader, (OC) Callisto x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

(Callisto)

I groan in annoyance as I try to loosen the tie Callisto put on when he forced me out of our room for more than just food. I didn't want to walk around this school any longer than necessary, with the last visit still seared into my mind. Yet here I am, in the same halls that still give me goosebumps, with this idiot by my side. I can stay calm for a while, but not forever, not in this place.

"Why did you drag me out of the room? I felt so comfortable!" I whine almost like a little child, but I don't care. I want nothing more than my bed.

All I hear is a deep chuckle. I shoot Callisto a glare that I hope might open a hole beneath his feet, but instead, I catch him with his eyes closed. My cheeks heat up as I see his almost divine smile, strong jaw, and prominent cheekbones in the rising sunlight. This is all complemented by his curly hair that bobs back and forth merrily as he lets his laughter flow. I can't take my eyes off him, even in his school uniform or especially in it. He looks so much better like this, although the skin-tight fighting suits are better in... other aspects as they leave nothing, and I mean nothing, to the imagination. Whenever I see him in it, my mind stops functioning.

The button-up shirt of our school uniform seems to be about to rip with every movement he makes, but honestly, although the sight is delicious, I don't like him showing it off to everyone. We may be at an all-boys school, but I know other boys are very interested in him and maybe staring at things they shouldn't.

Something is brewing inside me, and soon, I can't take it anymore. I walk faster than him and step before him, forcing Callisto to stop abruptly. He looks down at me with an amused, raised eyebrow. But instead of saying anything, I grab his blazer's sides, pull them together, and close them. I step back with a smug grin, feeling justified in making him seem more modest. But when I see what I've done, I become even more dejected; I immediately step back closer to Callisto, unbuttoning his blazer and looking at it again, only to pull it back together. The frustration inside me grows, and a soft groan escapes my lips. Out of the blue, I become painfully aware of the questions glittering in the gaze directed at me.

"What are you doing?" he asks, visibly holding back another chuckle, but I see something else there, too, a complacency that would make me furious if I saw it on other boys' faces.

I look at him disapprovingly, glaring, while trying everything to hide his 'goods'. But my frustration quickly bubbles over. I throw my hands in the air, frustrated because even after several attempts, I still can't manage to make his body look decent. "Couldn't you just get a bigger uniform?" I cross my arms over my chest. My lips twist into a pout, making me feel even more pathetic, but I feel comfortable showing my feelings to someone for the first time.

Callisto's eyes widen in astonishment, immediately moving down his body as his hands glide up and down his perfect muscles. "Are you telling me I'm getting fat?" His voice is laced with so much worry it opens a pit in my stomach. I try to tell him that I didn't mean it that way, but all I see is the hint of a smile.

Seeing that mischievous grin, I know he's just teasing me again. Rolling my eyes, I turn away from him and continue walking, only to hear his footsteps behind me. I can distinguish them from many others because he has a peculiar walking rhythm. Before I know it, I'm being pulled into his arms. "Come on, I'm only kidding, you know that!" Suddenly his voice is gentle, even caring, different from the arrogant, cocky guy he is with most other people.

"It's not about the teasing," I murmur, hoping he doesn't hear my words. But I know he heard me when I felt a rumbling in the chest I was being pressed against.

"Are you a little jelly?" He sounds so calm when he asks me this question, but his voice penetrates my bones, coating my cheeks with yet another blush.

Desperately, I try to downplay it, but Callisto is already onto me. He looks down at me with a look of pure lust. I swallow hard, and the whole atmosphere changes completely; it has become charged with something between us, but neither of us really wants to address it. I mean, how could we? After all, we both know that I'm still attached to my one true love. But slowly, it feels like I can at least try to love again.

I cling to him and discreetly pull the collar of his blazer closer to my nose to inhale his strong, woody scent. I don't know what it is, but it's sweet, but not too much.

His arms around me make me feel safe, even in a place like this. "No," I finally mumble indistinctly, his collar still too close to my lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I see confusion spreading across his usually confident face. With my lips hidden, I allow myself a small smile. "You've gotten too muscular in the last few months, and I don't want anyone else to see much of it." Thankfully, my face is mostly covered already because this blush I can feel coming on is so much worse than the ones before.

"Ohhh, you're so sweet," he whispers, his deep voice even more sensual than before. His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer until I'm lying flat against his muscular chest and rock-hard abs. How much I enjoy the feeling of his trained body. "You know that I belong only to you. No matter how long, I'll wait for you."

A pang of guilt overshadows my feelings. How can he say something like that? We don't even know each other that well, or maybe we do; after all these last three months, neither has left the other's side for more than a few moments; we've even showered together. Somehow, he feels the same as he did back then; he even has a similar personality. Just as that thought shimmers in my mind like a beacon of hope, it reminds me that Callisto is not him; even though they are similar, it's not fair to him to compare him to a dead person.

"Callisto," I murmur just as quietly as he did before. He looks into my eyes so lovingly that my heart beats twice as fast. All I want is to finally feel his perfectly soft lips on mine.

Loud laughter in the distance disturbs our moment of peace. But before we can really react, someone interrupts us directly. “Dudes!” someone suddenly calls out to us. The proximity of the voice forces me to acknowledge this brute, the one who is brave enough to sacrifice his life just to interrupt us. But when I open my eyes, still pressed against Callisto's hard chest, I immediately see a mischievous pair of shimmering green eyes. "Aren't you two cozy?" The glint in his eyes says more than a thousand words.

"You're too loud!" Callisto suddenly interjects teeth clenched and anger clearly visible on his face. Vinok opens his mouth again, probably to further annoy Callisto since he could never stop even if he lost the ensuing wrestling match. But Callisto's large hand covers most of Vinok's face before he can. "If I were you, I would think twice before speaking." His words sound tame, but the tone is almost murderous.

But even after all that, I can clearly see Vinok's signature grin behind the hand. "If you don't take your hand away, I'll lick it!" he threatens, amused.

At that moment, my attention is diverted from the two idiots by an arm around my shoulder. The next second, I am being dragged along with the person. Confused, I focus again, only to find Daniel, our last roommate, beside me. He carries his weapon over his shoulder despite wearing his normal uniform. Just as I want to ask about it, Daniel starts talking, complaining about Vinok's enormous energy in the early morning hours and further confessing that he would have killed him in about a minute or two if Callisto hadn't distracted him.

I watch him speak intently, the large scar on the right side of his face moving with every movement of his lips. He can't see me on the right side because his eye was badly injured in a fight with a monster, or so he told us, but he still flicks the side of his head as a warning not to stare at his scar for too long. I whisper a quiet “sorry,” but he starts talking again, complaining endlessly about Vinok, even though we both know he would give his life to protect him, just like he would for all of us.

While Callisto and I quickly developed some romantic feelings for each other, Daniel has no such interest in anyone. Instead, these feelings somehow flow into his friendships, of which he doesn't have many, but somehow, he clicked with everyone in our little group of idiots.

"You have to stop flirting with Vinok," Daniel tells me out of nowhere, pulling me out of my thoughts. Before I can even say anything, he sighs deeply. "His ego has gotten way too big; he's starting to think he can get with people; just imagine little clones of him running around; I'd go on a fucking rampage!"

While he was speaking so annoyed, the swear word must have slipped out. My mouth hangs open as I listen to him. "Language, Daniel!" Although I try, I can't hide the sarcasm in my voice. I quickly put a finger on his mouth and look around conspiratorially. "Don't forget there are children here!"

"Fuck off!" he yells, pushing me away from his arm as he rolls his eyes, but I can still see a crooked smile. Instantly, I return to his side, and he puts his arm back where it was before. "You really are the only tolerable one in this place."

I put my hand on my chest and look straight at him, my eyes as gentle as possible. "You mean you love me? I mean, I'm honored, Daniel, but I don't know if-"

“What are you talking ab-“

Suddenly, a dissatisfied click of the tongue sounds behind us. "I can't believe it!" The voice is deep and threatening. "Daniel, are you shamelessly flirting with him again? I thought I made myself clear last time!" Callisto's dark eyes turn to me and soften. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I tell him with a more than fake teary sound. "I couldn't believe it myself; he just-" Before I can continue our little game, I feel Callisto's body freeze behind me.

"You little shit!" Callisto shouts over our heads. The next moment, I only see him running after Vinok, yelling at him that he told him that if he didn't stop licking him, he would beat his ass.

At this sight, I can no longer hold back my laughter. I almost fall to my knees to let it all out. Up until this moment, I really believed that school life would not only be boring but shitty. But how could it be with a group of friends like this? I doubt a day will ever be boring with them.

"You're not even going to apologize this time for almost giving me a heart attack?" For a moment, I think Daniel's voice sounds like a pouting child. But that can't be right, can it? After all, he is the ice-cold, mysterious Daniel, every girl's dream, with his ash-blonde hair perfectly styled and his always neutral face, which is rarely seen with a smile.

But when I look over at him, I actually see it. A rarity. A pout! Unable to look away, I force both of us to hold a steady hand again. I can feel him getting uncomfortable, but who cares? It's a sight from a millennium!

"Don't stare at me like that," he mutters uneasily. I still don't understand why he hates his scar so much; it makes him look so much better, more fierce, like the monster hunter he is.

Unable to formulate words to calm him down, I simply grab the left side of his head from behind and gently pull him down. Without giving him a choice, I press a kiss to the side of his head. "Don't take it so personally, Daniel. We love you, and we show that partly by teasing you. We know you don't feel the same way we do, but we still want to include you in our little games."

However, I would argue that Daniel is even better than the others. At least I don't have to worry about him falling in love with me like my old roommates. And Vinok is far too interested in women to really consider being with a man, and yet he is the frontrunner whenever we are playing our teasing game. He once almost kissed me just to win against Callisto.

I must have broken something in Daniel. He's still red and can't even look me in the eye anymore. So I take the initiative, putting my arm around him and pulling him with me. But it's never easy with these guys. Out of nowhere, Vinok almost slams into us, trying to hide behind me in particular, knowing Callisto will never hurt me or, for the Leviathans to help him, I would crush more than just his soul.

Despite my protection, Vinok goes too far, nearly knocking Daniel off balance. Before I know it, I have Daniel's sword in my hand, and before anyone can react, the blade tip is under Vinok's neck.

"If you want to play hard so bad, get outside, or I'll show you what a real beating is, and not that little roughhousing Callisto gives you. I wouldn't even stop if you cried or begged the Leviathans for mercy on your life!"

His eyes widen and his left ear twitches, showing his nervousness. It tells me I've done enough. I lower the sword and move it until it points in the direction of the outside, but when I see him looking nervously in Callisto's direction, all I can do is roll my eyes. As soon as I see him moving, I pull Callisto towards me and shout to Vinok to run away.

Although I see Callisto looking down at me in displeasure, even shock, his expression quickly changes. At first, I don't know why until I notice myself mindlessly chewing on my lower lip as I stare at his beautiful face. His eyes flicker a little, but a satisfied, if arrogant, grin quickly appears on his lips. Suddenly, he is so close that not even a sheet of paper fits between us. His breath is so warm and emits the scent of fresh mint. Like a douche, he shows me his pearly white teeth, which sparkle right before my eyes.

As if out of nowhere, I feel his large hand pulling me by my side closer to him. "Callisto, not here; breakfast is any minute. The halls will be full soon."

But before I even said anything, I already knew that my words would be useless against a force of nature like him, like the wave of a tsunami that sweeps away everything.

His arrogant grin extends as he brings his lips even closer to mine. "You know very well that there is only one thing I want to eat deliciously for breakfast."

I feel the blood rushing to my head before I've even internalized his words, just because of his closeness and the way he treats me as if I have little say in our relationship.

Although I want nothing more than to drag him into the next room and do things to him that he can't even dream of, I take a deep breath and instead whisper to him what happened with Daniel.

I see the disappointment glistening in his eyes, but like the master seducer he is, he doesn't let it show. The mask of the mysterious, aloof crush and seducer sits perfectly on his face, as always.

But it all disappears when, with one swift movement, he pulls Daniel into a surprise embrace between us. But that's not all. Oh no, Callisto can't stand someone beating him at his own game. He pulls Daniel's head to his chest, forcing him to smell his shirt while simultaneously setting a prolonged kiss on the top of his head just before running off, probably to chase Vinok.

Right after Callisto's checkmate move, Daniel looks even more flustered than before and stops working completely. He only stands there, his cheeks getting redder as the seconds pass. Even though I don't mean to, I can't suppress a small giggle. Before Daniel can overthink, though, I pull him closer to me again and lead us behind the other two to ensure no one gets killed, at least until the evening.

[Masterlist]

[goldenboywrites]

Quin moved to the end of the bed, his feet touched the ground, and he held his head in his hands, pressing his fingers against his pounding temples. He had anticipated Beau telling Cesare, but he hadn’t thought Cesare could contain himself with the knowledge. Why had he held onto it so long? Quin had to poke and prod to get him to admit it. Was he just never going to say anything about it? If Cesare had known this entire time, then he knew when he told his father and Maximus he still planned to marry Quin. But how could he even want to marry him after knowing all this? There were missing parts of Quin, parts of himself that were taken from him. He was ruined. Quin laughed bitterly and desperately, his stomach heaving as his body went against his control of it. He moved to wrap his arms around his stomach, tears brimming as he laughed and laughed and laughed. “I don’t care about what happened between you and Beau in that room.” At one point, he had, but it paled in comparison to Cesare knowing the truth.

He wiped the wetness from his eyes and stood up from the bed. He dragged a fur blanket with him, covering his upper body. Quin leaned against the wall opposite Cesare’s bed, then dragged his gaze up from the floor to meet his. “It’s only fair you know the truth,” He said softly, tilting his head back until he hit the wall. “And yes, I imagine Beau wasn’t kind about it. When I was…” Quintus inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, “When I outgrew my uncle’s taste, he found Beau to replace me so he could have a younger version of me. Though I suspect Beau was too malleable for his tastes. His favorite thing has always been the fight, and I was too young and weak ever to win.” 

“You know the worst part about it?” Quin kicked off of the wall, cutting the distance between them in half. He stopped at Cesare’s desk, tilting a hip against it. “I thought I could endure it while my father and Maximus were at war. I was alone in that castle with him, and I took it; I swallowed it down because I didn’t have any other choice. I was twelve years old when it first happened. No one was there to help me anyway, but then they came back with you along with them, and I thought, ‘thank gods this is it’. I wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.”

Quin sighed, shaking his head. He slashed his arm across the top of the desk, sending the pitcher of mead and the tray of food crashing to the floor. “I was a fucking fool to think that would make a difference. Having them back in the castle made it worse and made him more determined. I suffered at his hands for years, and no one noticed. I was a child coming to breakfast hungover and limping, and no one noticed. Not my father, not my brother, not you.” He gripped the edge of the desk until his fingers turned white, until they ached as he ached inside for years. “The only thing that stopped him was time, and when he no longer possessed the ability to hunt me in my bed chambers, he went after my parents and then my brother and I.” 

“Beau will never be free, Cesare,” Quin said softly. “Just like I will never be free. He will always hold the pieces he took from us. I know you think you can save us. I know you want to save us, but we will never recover what he took from us. Even if he is dead, there will still be days where having hands on me makes my skin crawl and itch. There will still be nights when I dream of his weight and breath on me, and I wake up sick. His hands have permanently tainted me, and it isn’t something that I come back from.” 

He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, wishing it would swallow him whole. “You deserve someone whole, and I know you won’t do it because you think you owe me something or because you pity me now that you know, but I don’t expect you to go through with marrying me. I wouldn’t if I were you, and to save your reputation with my brother, I will take the heat and call it off so you aren’t the bad guy. Just…” He sucked in a breath, feeling a knot in the center of his throat. “Please don’t tell Max what he did to me. It will kill him, and I can’t… I can’t,” Quin’s breath puffed out between the words, his chest heaving with movement. “I can’t have him know.”

Cesare felt the air around him still and chill in the same stroke. His eyes narrowed on Quin and all the alcohol he'd drank felt as though it evaporated through every pore on his body. In that moment he couldn't understand the man's tone but he felt the rigidiness just the same. He hadn't done anything wrong. Not really. Had Beau confused him for a few moments? Yes. But nothing more had come of that. And once the prince found out who he was and what he was doing, it wasn't difficult to deduce the rest. But clearly Quintus wasn't ready or willing to do that yet and he'd have to explain in a way that didn't seem as though he were trying to defend the other to him. Wasn't he just the one being made to be made?

"I don't think it's difficult to understand that someone in his line of work." He paused, staring pointedly at the other for a moment before he continued. "Don't always receive the best treatment. And knowing the man that was pulling his strings." Which was partly a lie. Cesare didn't know their uncle well. Or, as well as he'd thought he had. In all the years he'd ventured to the castle in Vivec alone and in his father's tow, he'd never had Richard treat him poorly. The odd comment here and there, with more frequency as he'd grown closer to Quin, but never would he have guessed he was a power hungry man, hell bent on dethroning his own nephews at any cost. "I didn't think it was such a jump to assume that some of what has happened with you may also have happened with him." His brow raised and he sighed out, not ready to admit the next part. "Because you do look similiar enough that I imagine whatever he he wanted to say or do to you he often took out on Beau instead when the opportunity didn't present itself with you."

The prince stretched himself out on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. There it is. The soft, fuzzy feeling of the meade found him again and he breathed out slowly. "You've never told me the extent of what happened with ... Richard." He started, crossing his ankles over each other and his hands folded over and laid against his lap. It was hard to hear that name in his own voice. Until that moment he was fairly certain they'd never uttered his name between themselves. But the threat was very real and not using his name made it feel like he was bigger than they, and that simply could never be in Cesare's opinion. "Beau wasn't kind when he said it." He started, his fingers itching to dig into anything to make this less painful to speak about, less painful to watch Quintus' face when he'd finally gotten it out. "But I started putting it together. The way you don't like to be touched and how you're constantly on top of everything and everyone." He gave a slight shake of his head because honestly this did nothing but show just how strong this man on the bed was to him. And should be to everyone. "He only confirmed the missing piece that I'd been guessing at."

Cesare's tongue swiped along his lips to keep them from drying out completely. "Please don't take my kindness towards him as anything but that." He swallowed hard and fought himself on what he was about to say next but he thought better than to hide it. "When I first came upon Beau in what were suppose to be your quarters I couldn't be sure it was you. The room was too dark." The contents of his stomach churned and he felt odd enough to shift his weight. "He shared a kiss or two but nothing more than that." His cheeks instantly flared to the bright redness of coals and he found himself wanting to sink completely into the mattress. "I realized he wasn't you and threatened him within an inch of his life to get me to you and when that didn't work." He sighed and shrugged again. "I just tried to treat him like a person." He paused, seeing the snide comment coming quick but he cut Quin off before it could be made. "He wants to live. Free. Just like you and I. Just like everyone else. I couldn't imagine the sort of life one leads pretending to be someone else. Never having anything that is truly your own." Cesare gave a slight shake of his head and breathed out through his nose. "I just didn't want to be the sort of person that sees someone in a bad position regardless of their own involvement and not do anything to help. I've never been that way and I won't start now." He was firm on that whether Quin liked it or not. He could only hope his honesty didn't cost him everything else in the process.

[theguyinthemathexamples]

cw// lowercase intended, mentions of execution, just religious sagau stuff, the usual

this is mostly a shitpost but like,,

do y'all think exorcists, paranormal experts or the like use our name to dispel spirits???

like ik the part where the normal populace prays in our name after every action they do or after every meal, but the part where they say "May the Creator guide you,," like we say "May the Lord guide you,," and all that fancy stuff to get rid of evil entities

it's just ⚰️⚰️

like imagine one of the first "execution" attempts they tried doing — and the one that miserably failed — is exorcism. I.e them thinking and trying to "exorcise the demon that decided to take a physical form and plague Teyvat with its impure influence." would actually cause us to disappear 💀💀

(more utc ‼️‼️‼️)

like here you were chained to a tall block of wood, internally screaming your head off as an "archbishop" of yours is reading, what you can only describe as the autobiography of your life, to a dozen thousand people or so.

sometimes you'd get sprayed/sprinkled with some water from a bottle on his person while quoting some random shit you said as a child. the small grimaces and glares you send his way seemed to satisfy him and the mass below.

at some point you even began to doze off because of how long this "exorcism" was taking, even a little sore from having to be in the same position for a few hours now.

you do feel bad for the kids that are forced to sit through the entire process, knowing full well that this whole shebang won't work.

some even looked skeptical that this was going to work in the first place.

good for them, really.

i can just hear them chanting saying "In the name of the Creator, their creations and the holy spirit, may this demon be vanquished from both the mortal and spiritual realm! May they experience an eternity of pain for ever thinking about imitating our Almighty Creator!" while the archbishop does the hand flick to splash us with water

JUST IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF DISTRUST AND SKEOTICISM AND JUST—,,, EVERYTHING EVERYONE FEEL WHEN THE SO CALLED "exorcism" DOESN'T WORK LMAOAOAOAOO

and then eventually they all just say fuck it and execute us physically when the religious shit doesn't work

[possiblyfunny]

Hello again, fellas. (And to whoever is actually interested in looking at my weird little AU-) Sanctuary has been on my mind lately and uhhh, I’d like to introduce you to some new characters!

Meet the Eventide Duo: REI and KAI!

I, like with Aster and Del, have never drawn them before, and because I honestly didn’t have it in me to do two full-body drawings with color and everything, doodling them was the next best thing. I’ve been thinking about these two a lot and just really wanted to get them down as a start. Soooo—this is their first pass and things are subject to change! (Please excuse the messiness-)

Rei (the Red) and Kai (the Blue) come from—okay this is kinda funny now that I’m writing it out—their AU was inspired by an FNF fan song that I heard awhile back. It was something like “Frostbite but Blue.” The person who made the song (I don’t remember their name off the top of my head) said they were going to post the lore, but as far as I know they never did, so my brain kinda took the concept and ran with it—making it into my own story. (Sorry to whoever that was-)

Rei is the fledgling god of the Sun and the Second Coming of Arceus. He ascended to godhood after his untimely death, returning to earth to protect the one he loves. Rei may look like a massive grump, but in reality, he's a ray of sunshine and one of the most warm-hearted and protective people you'll ever meet. Kai is still a Pokémon Trainer, but he’s also Rei's singular devotee. He's honestly pretty quiet for a Blue, if not a bit high-strung, but he's loyal and sweet, even if he has a bit of a hard time showing it.

The both of them worked together to survive the violent floods and rainfall that devastated their original home, and now live a quiet life together in Sanctuary, going on little adventures here and there to try and reclaim the life they lost bit by bit.

(Okay, time to tag my one fan. @100nebulas , I think you said you wanted more Sanctuary content in general that one time, so I guess you’re gonna be eternally tagged in these lmao. Hope you enjoy :])

[theflyingfeeling]

I think today I will cry about BC not making tour vlogs anymore 😔

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

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