#i started this in 2022 bc i wanted to post it at the end of tour and well. That didn’t happen
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will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?
#hiii i haven’t shared art in so long. that’s bc it scares me now <3#i started this in 2022 bc i wanted to post it at the end of tour and well. That didn’t happen#got it most of the way done and then couldn’t figure out how to finish it bc illustration proper is still an unknown beast to me#but i took a couple hours late last night to finish it up and i’m actually so happy with it!!#y’all didn’t ask for a novel SORRY#mcr#my chemical romance#the foundations of decay#swarm#swarm tour#gerard way#frank iero#ray toro#mikey way#arty art#mine
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lia and harry's story (one)
summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) || word count: 14,7k
some scenes are different. some scenes are still the same. but here they are again.
“Rohan isn’t working tonight.”
The toneless, husky voice echoed in the dim lights, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat as she whipped her head to her left.
Harry walked past her and towards the sink, too occupied carrying a box under one of his arms. When he stopped, he turned his back to where she was and placed the item on the laminated counter, then put his free hand into his pocket and pulled a utility knife, not wasting any other second before using it to tore the cardboard in half.
Lia’s belly fluttered.
White t-shirt, black pants. Sleeves short enough for her to admire the multiple tattoos covering his arms, and fabric tight enough for her to follow the movements of the muscles on his back as he pulled a few napkins and straws out of the box.
She only needed a second for things to click inside her, and for her to remember why she decided to go to The Wandering Triplet in the first place.
Harry’s unkempt dark brown hair curled on top of his head and also a little bit to the sides, but it seemed shorter on the back. He had clearly gotten a haircut since last week, when she last saw him at the bar, and even though Lia couldn’t see his face, she already knew that it suited him.
She knew that he looked good.
Really good.
No, she knew that he looked great.
Unfairly and painfully handsome.
Like a dream.
Like he always did.
Lia sighed.
Harry grabbed the box with one hand and turned around, briefly glancing at her. He didn’t say nor did a thing, seemingly completely unamused by her presence as he looked forward and headed back towards the black curtain.
And that’s exactly when it hit her: she still hadn’t said anything to him.
Nothing.
Not even a word.
Oh my God.
A flush of heat creeped up through the back of Lia’s neck, and her belly turned into knots.
She shifted on her feet, straightening up and pulling her elbows closer to her body as she watched him disappear behind the thick black fabric.
Rohan isn’t working tonight.
Rohan isn’t working tonight.
Rohan isn’t working tonight.
Lia frowned.
Why did he even… Ugh.
Of course Rohan wasn’t working that night. It wasn’t something hard to figure out—she had been to The Wandering Triplet more than enough times to realize that on Wednesday Rohan always started his shift later at night, meaning that Harry always opened the bar by himself.
Besides, why did he have to start a conversation with her like that? Why couldn’t he just have said something simple like… Hello?
She pulled the loose sleeves of her cardigan and covered her fingers, then crossed her arms against her stomach and scanned the three shelves at the back wall. Honestly, entertaining any useless thoughts was better than overthinking Harry’s actions. She didn’t have the strength inside her to try and understand his dislike for her. Not anymore. She had already given up on that a long time ago. All she wanted was to get something to drink, get comfortable on a table, and daydream a little before going back home and dealing with all the very real consequences of that pathetic and useless day.
Lia shook her head.
Ugh.
White rum… White rum… Where’s the white rum?
Since she’d walked into The Wandering Triplet for the first time, Lia had stared at those shelves long enough to realize they had a system to place everything. The one at the bottom was filled with different types of glasses, all upside-down, while the other two above were used to perfectly organize rows of many different types of alcohol.
When it came to the bottles, the still unopened ones and also the most expensive brands were at the top, while the most commonly used were in the middle, closer to their reach. From left to right, they were also careful, matching not only by type, but also organizing by brands and colors.
Another sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders. She knew she’d agreed with her psychiatrist that she’d wait until her body got used to the new medication, but she could’ve really used a drink that day. Not just any drink, but a mojito—it was her favorite, and Harry always made the best one.
“Ok, then. What can I get you?”
Lia jumped slightly, batting her eyelashes and shifting her arms on the counter.
Harry stood next to her, cleaning the already-clean-bar.
She recognized his white t-shirt as one of her favorites. The design, mixing palm trees and searchlights with shades of blue and green, reminded her of one summer she’d spent in Los Angeles with her family, and the faded orange words around it made her think of an old record store.
Harry always looked cool with that t-shirt, especially when he matched it with those black wide-legged pants he was wearing right then. He looked like someone who could be in a band, like someone who could hold a guitar in front of a crowd and make people faint at the sight.
Not a popstar or rockstar, though. Nuh-uh. He was too snappy for that.
If Harry were a musician, he would probably be part of an indie band. Or one of those groups people never heard of until they randomly shuffled through a rainy and foggy playlist on Spotify.
And he’d definitely be the moody and mysterious bass player, bothered only by doing his own sound and ignoring all the screaming girls at his feet.
Bass guitar player. Yes. That would be for sure—he had great hands, and they looked perfect for the four-stringed instrument.
Harry wiped the surface forcefully, then tightened his long fingers around the light-brown towel and threw the item over his shoulder. As he held it there with one hand, he finally faced her, grasping the edge of the counter with his other hand and stretching his arm.
Leaf, intense, green eyes stared into her boring brown ones, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat.
He was so pretty.
So, so pretty.
And to daydream and imagine things was fun, but Harry wasn’t in any indie band, nor even a musician. He was simply the sulky, pretentious bartender who worked across the street from her apartment. And the guy who she had the biggest and most stupid crush on.
Harry cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows, and flinched his chin down.
Damn.
Lia shifted on her feet.
“It’s—I—I mean…” She shook her head and cleared her throat, too. “Sorry. Just water, I think? I—Yes. Water. Please.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, scoffing quietly as he walked to the shelves. “Of course.”
Lia furrowed her brows and held her breath, watching him take his time while he put some distance between them. As if having to get her a simple glass of water was the most boring thing he could do. Or maybe the most annoying thing he could do. Or maybe the most tiring thing he could do.
His reaction felt out of place, but she couldn’t be surprised, could she? After all, she was used to his awful mood, and she’d gotten really good at pretending it didn’t bother her—to the point where she almost believed it herself.
In fact, to be honest, had it been any other day, she probably wouldn’t have even minded his behavior. She would’ve probably just accepted it and added it to the countless humiliating moments she’d lived so far.
But it was the last thing she needed on that particular Wednesday evening, when everything had already turned out so shitty that she was both mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Lia exhaled through her nose and clenched her jaw.
In less than eight hours, three people had already treated her with disdain and condescension, and four had made her feel inferior and weak. All she had done was to work on herself and try to step out of her comfort zone, like she promised Dr. Reisman she would do, and all she had gotten in return was… Nothing.
So shame on her for needing some distraction, right? Shame on her for thinking that silently watching her crush from far away would help her forget about her stressful and dreadful day. Shame on her for believing that she would be able to feel at least slightly better after spending five minutes at the bar.
A glass full of water emerged in front of her, and Lia blinked.
“There you go, princess.” Harry smiled, as blatantly sarcastic and careless as he could be, then turned around and walked back to the sink.
Lia glared at him, tightening her hands into fists and letting her body be consumed by her heavy breathing.
She hated when he looked at her like that. And she hated when he made her feel like a child. Harry almost never talked to her, but when he did, he seemed to always find a way to make her feel mocked or challenged to say something. Challenged to be different. Challenged to speak up. Challenged to react quicker.
And Lia hated it.
She truly hated it, because she wasn’t good with words. At all. And she was well aware of that. She was getting treatment because of that, for fucks sake!
So she didn’t need anyone pointing out the obvious for her. And she didn’t need anyone making her feel even worse for not being able to actually get better. Or for constantly messing things up even though she desperately tried not to.
Why…
Why did it have to be so hard for her?
And why did it have to be so hard all the damn time?
Why couldn’t she get things right? At least once in her life?
And why on earth did she insist on nurturing that fruitless crush, anyway?
Huh?
Why did she care about someone who didn’t know her at all? Someone who had never even tried to get to know her?
Huh?
And also, why couldn’t Harry just let her be?
Why did he have to treat her that way?
What had she even done to him, huh?
What had she done, besides moving across the street and being a regular customer at the bar?
Huh?
Huh?!!
Lia grabbed the glass in front of her and took a sip of water. Then another one, and another one. Desperately gulping down three quarters of it before putting it down on the counter again.
Harry was unbelievable.
Unbelievable!
The judgment behind every action and every word was completely unnecessary.
So what if she was drinking water? Huh? Why did it matter? What difference did it make? She could drink whatever she wanted to, right?
And why—why—calling her princess? What was the point? What did he even mean by that?
Huh?
Huh?!?!
“Ok, look,” Harry said, standing in front of her with a frown on his face and arms crossed on his chest, “are you just going to stand there all night? Because I told you Rohan isn’t—”
“Oh my goodness!” Lia laughed, uncrossing her arms and taking a step back from the counter. “This is… I… You… I’m just… Ugh!”
She shook her head and looked down. Reaching for her bag, she watched her own movements as she put her hand inside it and rummaged through her things.
“I’ll go, okay? I’ll go,” she said, fishing around for her wallet. “But you know what, Harry? Considering I’ve been around here for almost a year now, and that so far you’ve never even cared to… I don’t know… At least know my name, you don’t need to try so hard to be an asshole to me all the time, y’know?” She found some cash laying around, then grabbed the notes firmly between her fingers and slammed them on the counter. “You’ve already earned the title.”
She turned around and gritted her teeth, feeling the heat reverberating through her skin as she mumbled, “Asshole.”
And then, she walked away, finally removing herself from the unneeded interaction and not even once daring to look back at his face.
For the next three weeks, Lia didn’t go to the bar.
It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t intentional. She was busy, and life was happening. She went back to her parents house for a weekend, enjoyed the quietness of hometown, worked some extra hours, had dinner with her friends, took some alone time for herself, and then… Well, and then she also didn’t make any effort to go.
Because why would she, anyway?
“Excuse me.”
Someone shoved her, causing Lia to stumble on her feet and snap out of her mind. She looked to her side, apologizing for standing in the way while shuffling on her feet to keep her balance.
Nobody seemed to care about her presence, though. Nor to have the slight idea of how much wondering it took before showing up again. Or to know that the last time she’d been there she’d called a bartender out for not knowing her name—and that she might’ve used the word asshole, too.
Lia let her hair fall on her face and sighed.
Things inside The Wandering Triplet were… Different.
Really different.
For starters, it was way more packed than usual, more crowded than what she ever expected it to be. People stood everywhere, talking and laughing even louder than any other time. And she wasn’t sure the place had at least once smelled that much like beer and perfume.
On top of that, two guys seemed to be playing live music, something she had definitely never seen there before. Just like a lot of the faces surrounding her right then and there.
She swallowed, then rubbed her neck.
It was hard not to notice the way her body heat had risen. Or how her entire outfit suddenly seemed like a bad call—because, honestly, how was she supposed to not sweat under that black turtleneck? Or under the tight fabric of her jeans? Even her feet were burning up, buried in those damn leather boots.
And it wasn’t like Lia was incapable of dressing according to the situation. It was just that, well, how was she even supposed to imagine that the place would ever be so crowded?
Especially on a Monday night!
C’mon!
Monday nights were always their quietest nights. So much so that they didn’t even require two bartenders working at the same time.
And Lia knew that. It was exactly the whole reason why she had chosen to go back on that particular night: because Monday nights were Harry’s nights off.
Or, well, at least they used to be Harry’s nights off.
Shit.
There was absolutely no way Rohan would be able to handle that chaos all by himself, right?
So…
Oh God.
She was going to see him… Wasn’t she?
The whole therapy session, with all the planning and thinking about how she could go back there without actually having to face him, had been a complete waste of time. Right?
It had been for nothing.
And a complete failure.
Right?
Right?!
Her stomach fluttered, then shot a soft tingling to her chest.
Shit.
She didn’t want to see him, though. Of course she didn’t. Not after she’d humiliated herself.
So… She should’ve turned around and gone back home, right? Try it again on a different night, maybe. Or just find a different bar.
Right?
Lia sighed, heavier this time.
She couldn’t run away, though. The whole point of going to the bar again was to challenge her own thoughts and beliefs, so she couldn’t give up now. She had to try.
Right?
Oh God.
Sliding her tongue through her lips, Lia put her hair behind her ears and focused on her destination, then squeezed her way in to make it to the counter and order herself a drink—just as she promised Dr. Reisman she would do.
To navigate her body through so many strangers wasn’t an easy task, that’s for sure, but she eventually managed to push herself all the way across the room. Once she found herself closer to the counter, a man walked backwards, holding three beers between his hands.
Lia turned sideways, giving him more room to walk without dropping anything. It also turned out to be the perfect opportunity for her to place one hand on the edge of the wooden bar, hold herself, and step onto the new empty space.
After that, everything felt mostly like a blur.
Rohan was there, but he wasn’t alone. There was also a girl helping him out. A girl she hadn’t seen there before. Short, blonde hair. Long legs and arms. Tattoos on her shoulder and piercing on her nose. She handed him empty glasses and chatted excitedly, while he grabbed each with a smile and put them all back on the bottom shelf.
And then a tattooed arm abruptly flashed in front of her, and Lia lurched back. Barely catching the color of the towel being yanked in circles right next to her.
Someone yelled an order, another person called someone’s name, and another one shouted an ‘excuse me’ a couple of steps to her side. Pop acoustic covers were still playing in the back and someone dropped a couple of spoons behind the bar.
Everything was happening at the same time. Right where she was. And yet all she could pay attention to was Harry’s figure coming to a stop in front of her.
Harry blinked once, then turned his head slightly to the side, shouting the words without removing his sea-green eyes from her. “Rohan! Lia is here!”
And just like that, Harry turned around and walked away.
And she was all by herself all over again.
Lia frowned.
What…
Did he…
Had Harry just called her name?
Lia is here.
Lia is here.
That’s what he’d said, right?
Lia is here.
Her stomach fluttered.
Considering how the last thing she had said to him—besides calling him an asshole, of course—was that he didn’t know her name, that couldn’t be a coincidence… Right?
Right?!
“Lia, heyyy!"
She lowered her gaze to the counter and furrowed her brows.
How the hell had Harry been able to do that? To disconcert her in a matter of two seconds?
Four words. That was it. That was all it had taken.
All because he had said her name.
After three weeks of not seeing him.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Rohan stood in front of her with worried eyes and puzzled face, and Lia blinked.
It took her a moment to realize she was still frozen in place, but she finally shook her head and looked up.
“Uh, yeah… I… Yes. Oh my God. Sorry. Yes.” She chuckled and waved her hand. “I just... Long day today. Sorry.”
Rohan nodded and smiled, too. “Gotcha. No worries! It’s nice to see you again! You look taller today.”
“Oh.” Lia leaned back and looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes inside her high heel leather boots. “Must be the shoes.” She shrugged. “Don’t wear them often.”
“You should. You look nice! So, what can I get ya? Let’s cheer you up after a long day, huh?”
Lia sighed, then cleared her throat.
Rohan’s energy was always loud. His brown eyes always sparkled with joy, and every time he smiled his entire face lit up. It definitely made it really easy to talk to him, mostly because he never gave her too much time to speak and be awkward. He moved forward, simply worrying about doing his job and constantly making sure everyone was having a good time.
“Actually,” she said, “I don’t... I don’t know what I want. Maybe a cocktail, please? Nothing strong, though. I just… Yeah… I haven’t been drinking for a while, so... I think I’d rather be careful? You know? Sorry.”
Rohan tilted his head and grinned at her, watching her for a brief moment before he shook his head and chuckled.
A flush creeped across Lia’s cheeks, and she bit the inside of her bottom lip.
“Of course!” He nodded, watching her as he took a step back and winked at her. “One minute, yeah?”
Rohan turned around and walked away, and Lia let the air out through her nose.
Always the same thing. She just had to find a way to embarrass herself, didn’t she?
Dropping her shoulders and peeking at her sides, she found Harry standing by the other end of the counter, chatting with the new bartender while they mixed a couple of drinks.
He hadn’t changed much—or at all. The hair had probably been trimmed and he had clearly shaved at some point just to let his facial hair grow again, because his scruff looked just the same as three weeks ago.
Even his t-shirt seemed to be the same one—until Lia noticed it actually had different writing and design.
Her belly fluttered, just like it always did when she looked at him. And then, when she couldn’t decide if the fluttering was a good or bad feeling, her chest always tightened as well.
It tightened with a mix of amazement, delight, frustration, and sadness. All at once.
Because no matter how oblivious Harry was to it, he was the whole reason Lia had slowly become a regular at the bar.
Sure, a great therapy session had led her to challenge herself and get a drink by herself. And then, that spur of the moment decision had taken her to the bar across the street—the only one that was open that night.
But walking into the bar and meeting someone who would make her insides blaze wasn’t on her plans. And even considering challenging herself for a second time just a few days later definitely wouldn’t have happened if, that exact same night, she hadn’t met him.
Eleven months had gone by since that night, and yet Lia still winced every time she recalled it.
Harry had taken her order, but hadn’t even smiled politely when doing so. He also hadn’t looked at least one bit excited about making the mojito she’d asked for (which later Lia thought tasted delicious, anyway).
Even after that, no matter how many times she had stepped into the bar, he never even flinched when looking at her. Never.
It was as if she didn’t even exist to him.
So Lia had a crush on him, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Harry had never hidden his lack of interest in getting to know her, so she knew he wasn’t into her. And she was fine with that. Really.
She was fine with it. And she was more than used to it by now. Even if—
“That’s Sage.”
Lia turned her head and straightened her back, only then noticing she’d been openly staring at the interaction between the two bartenders.
“She just started, so Harry’s going over our signature drinks with her,” Rohan added, shrugging and smiling. “I know it can be hard to believe, but he’s pretty patient. A great guy once you get past the frown on his face.”
Lia smiled. She actually didn’t find that hard to believe at all, but she didn’t want Rohan to know how she really felt about his co-worker, or how much she had watched all along, so she didn’t share the thought with him.
Instead, she glanced at the cocktail glass he’d placed on the counter and asked, “A martini?”
“Right!” Rohan slapped his open hand on the counter, as if bringing himself back to the conversation. “Apple martini, to be precise. Or, as some would say, appletini.”
Lia chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve had one of these before.”
“Hope you enjoy it, then.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you, Rohan.”
He curled his lips into another bright and cheerful smile. “My pleasure. If you don’t like it, next one’s on me, yeah? So lemme know.”
“Okay.” Lia smiled and nodded, wrapping her fingers around the glass and pushing her weight off the counter. “I will.”
— — — — —
Sitting by herself, Lia took the last sip of her melted apple martini just as the two young boys finished playing another pop song from their acoustic set.
People clapped next to her, and she left the glass on the table to do the same, tilting her head and smiling at how cute and shy the pair looked on the stage. Despite the obvious age difference, they somehow reminded her of her students when they had to perform for the first time in front of an audience, which was probably why she kept feeling the need to pay attention to them and reassure them with her eyes—a way to let them know how well they were doing up there.
They thanked politely and introduced the next song, and Lia rested her chin on the palm of her hand, paying attention to the first few chords of a song she couldn’t recognize.
Truthfully speaking, Lia was proud of herself. Even though the place was way more crowded than she was comfortable with, and even though she’d thought about leaving multiple times, she survived the thirty minutes she’d promised herself she would try to stay.
So she knew she had already made some good progress, and that she could now go home without feeling guilty.
She hadn’t failed. Not that night, at least.
As a gift to herself, she allowed her eyes to wander around the bar, trying to get a glimpse of Harry before she officially left.
She found him behind the counter, of course, all focused while chatting with his two coworkers. He listened to whatever Rohan was saying, nodding along while pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. But then, something in the story caused him to widen his eyes and drop his hand to Sage’s shoulder, holding the shock on his face firmly for a moment before he finally threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Bringing his free hand to his chest while his entire body seemed to shake.
Lia’s belly fluttered, and she was pretty sure both of her lungs had stopped working.
He was just so… Attractive.
So hypnotizing. It was like she couldn’t take her eyes away from him.
And she knew how silly she was for it. For wanting him that bad.
She knew it. But she couldn’t help it.
She just couldn’t.
A group of people approached the counter, and Rohan automatically got back into work mode, walking towards them. Harry and Sage were left behind, then, but they quickly seemed to engage into more conversation. Happy, interesting conversation.
Jealousy sparked in her chest, but Lia still watched him with nothing but fascination. She watched the way he crossed his arms on his chest, and also the way he kept raising one of his hands to gesture whenever he talked to Sage.
Lia is here.
His words echoed inside her mind, and Lia knew, right then and there, that later at night she’d be in bed and think about the way he’d said her name. Over and over again.
She’d think about the way he treated the new girl, and she’d dream about him treating her like that, too.
She knew it, because she’d been there before. Because after that first night at the bar, watching Harry became like a hobby to her. And because in the eleven months she’d been there, even though it hadn’t been that often, there had been a time when Lia used to see him with a woman at the bar. A girlfriend, perhaps. Someone who was obviously older than him, but just as tall, and had shoulder-length, perfectly straight, dark auburn hair. Someone who’d always seemed too elegant and sophisticated for The Wandering Triplet, and yet had never looked out of place. Effortlessly delicate and powerful at the same time. Someone who carried herself in a way that screamed confidence, as if she’d never known what it was like to feel insecure about herself.
During those nights, when that woman used to be at the bar, Lia always stood a little bit afar, not wanting to be disrespectful to them, but still allowing herself to catch some glimpses of a completely different version of him.
A more natural, vulnerable version. Where Harry would laugh so loud he would drop his head back, or peck her lips multiple times, and even caress her cheek in between customers. Where he would whisper in her ear, make her smile, and stare deeply into her eyes when she did all the talking. Where he would also walk her out of the bar holding her hand, or hug her waist when guiding them to his car.
It was obvious to Lia — and probably to anyone who looked at them, to be honest — how much they appreciated each other’s company, and how much he cared for her. It was also very clear how much Harry enjoyed the affection. How much he enjoyed being touched and taken care of.
And embarrassingly as it was, more than once Lia had woken up highly aware of dreaming about him. Recalling false, vivid memories of her replacing that woman, and of Harry touching and kissing her, instead.
Lia shifted on her seat, withdrawing her chin from her hand and rolling her shoulders. Hoping to push those thoughts away, but also praying people never find out they even existed in the first place.
Focusing her sight on them again, Lia caught Rohan walking back to Harry and Sage. He stood with his back turned to her, and the other two resumed their attention on whatever he had to say.
She watched a little bit more, just to enjoy those couple minutes before she left. Music played in the background, and people chatted jazzily all around her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though. She just couldn’t.
So handsome.
Harry lifted one hand, pulling his short hair back and out of the way, and then crossed his arms again. He listened to Rohan, and to everything he had to say. He focused, nodded, and offered his own comments from time to time. Giving his co-worker all his attention, solely and purely.
Until he drifted his sight to the side and met her stare.
Lia held her breath and gulped down, freezing as his eyes settled inside hers.
Oh God.
Her heart palpitated. And her breathing sped up.
It was hard to be one hundred percent sure of what was happening when he was so far away, but it was also hard to have any doubts when he was so intense that she could feel him all through her body. And when he didn’t seem to make any attempt to avoid her gaze. Or move. Or look away.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
Oh my God!
A heavy and empty feeling spread in her stomach, and Lia looked away.
What the hell was even happening?
What was she supposed to do?
Why was he looking at her?
Was he actually looking at her?
She glanced back at him, and their eyes instantly met again.
He was still watching her.
Lia closed her hands into fists, then forced herself to breathe. Deeply. Heavily.
Harry lifted his eyebrows and tilted his chin down.
It was an expression she’d seen before, and that it was enough to make every single one of her muscles quiver.
She darted her eyes back to her empty drink and blinked.
What the hell?
To have him staring back at her felt even worse than him saying her name or her calling him an asshole. It was like breaking the fourth wall. It was like acknowledging her existence. And Lia didn’t know what to do with that.
She rummaged for something, but it was as if her thoughts weren’t there anymore. As if her brain stopped functioning and she went completely blank.
And just like that, before she could give herself a pep talk and calm herself down, Lia had already pushed her chair away from the table and ran to the door. Stepping outside and away from the bar.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Or at least that was what one of Lia’s teachers always used to say. And also what crossed her mind on Friday night, when she walked into The Wandering Triplet followed by Jillie and Molly.
“Ohhh, I like this place,” Molly said, coming to a stop right behind the other two.
“Yeah!” Jillie nodded, then linked her arm with Lia’s. “I can see why you like it here. Feels kinda cozy. Intimate.”
Lia’s mouth twitched with a smile, and she took one hand up to put her hair behind her ear.
Dr. Reisman was so right about it.
Going through life without opening up and sharing things wasn’t working for her. Not anymore. And yeah, it sucked that she had needed a push from her therapist and the assignment of a new task to do it, but at least she’d told them about it.
At least she wasn’t keeping it all to herself anymore.
“I’m glad you like it,” Lia offered, looking around and taking the place in.
It didn’t feel too crowded this time, not yet at least. On her left side, most tables were occupied, and an older man was performing on the same tiny stage the two boys were playing the other night—his low, raspy voice blending with the soft chatting and laughing of customers.
To her right, though, only a few people stood near the counter, giving her the perfect view of the three bartenders working behind it.
Lia cleared her throat and diverted her eyes back to the stage.
“I guess it’s usually like this,” she added, ignoring the fact that her belly was suddenly turning upside down. “But it also depends on how crowded the other two bars are.”
“Hmm… Well,” Jillie said, turning her head to look at them, “should we get a table, then?”
Lia nodded and stepped forward.
“Sure—”
“Wait!” Molly placed her hands on Lia’s hips, forcing her to stay in place. “Let’s get a drink first.”
“A—Already? You sure? Now? Right now?"
“Yes.” Molly smirked. “Right now. C’mon. Wanna see that bartender of yours up close.”
“Oh God…”
Lia chuckled, mostly because she didn’t know what to say. Or do.
Of course they wanted to see him, though. After all, it was the whole reason why they were there that night.
At first the excitement and curiosity had happened through texts, when Lia got the courage to tell them about Harry. Their reaction had been instant, and it’d brought so much joy to her body that Lia ended up spending way more time on her phone than she should have.
Despite letting them know it was only a crush, and that he didn’t really care about her, they both entertained the subject, asking details about the way he looked or how she’d met him. It was easy to get carried away with them, because they didn’t make it seem that deep, treating the topic lightly. Treating it as a joke.
They also didn’t make her feel guilty or out of her mind for being attracted to him. And when she explained to them how she worried about being inappropriate for fantasizing about him, they both shared their own stories of moments when they’d fancied someone they probably shouldn’t have, and even of things they’d done with people that they probably shouldn’t have.
It brought some sense of imperfection to her, and of humanity, and it made her breathe better. So before ending the conversation, when they asked to meet him, Lia didn’t want to say no and go back to her lonely and quiet bubble, so she agreed with them.
And that’s how they ended up there.
On Friday night. At the bar.
“Oh, yes! I wanna see him, too!” Jillie let go of Lia’s arm and turned around. “C’mon.”
The idea of her gorgeous, tall, cheerful friend reaching the bar first and alone was enough to get a reaction out of her.
“Okay, okay!” Lia looked at the floor and closed her hands into fists, then stepped forward and led the way.
She had no idea what would come out of that night, but she knew it didn’t make sense for her to run away or avoid the situation—not even if it made her stomach swirl and turn. After all, telling her best friends about Harry and The Wandering Triplet had felt like a bold move, but also like a step she needed to take.
And one she hadn’t regretted so far.
"Heeyyy!” Rohan’s cheerful voice greeted as soon as Lia reached the counter, and she immediately glanced up. He approached them with a grin and open arms, easily leaving his co-workers behind. “Look who’s here!”
Lia curled her mouth into a closed-lip smile and cleared her throat.
“H—Hi…”
“You good? It’s nice to see you! You almost never show up on Fridays.”
“Oh…” She chuckled softly, placing her hands inside the pockets of her jacket and shrugging. “I just… Yeah. I’m with my friends tonight, so… I wanted to show them around? I guess…”
“Of course!” Rohan widened his eyes, but his smile never faltered. He shifted his sight to the other girls and stood up straighter, then stretched his arm and offered his hand for them to shake. “How rude of me. Hello there, I’m Rohan.”
“Molly.”
“Jillie, hi.”
“Welcome to The Wandering Triplet, yeah? Hope you enjoy it. Any friend of Lia is more than welcome here.”
Lia shifted on her feet, then caught a glimpse of Harry moving towards the shelves.
She hadn’t seen him again, but the intensity of his eyes was still engraved inside her mind. It had induced the most vivid dreams for the last couple of nights, and it brought a fluttery to her belly every time she thought about him.
And she really didn’t know what to think about it, or if she even should think so much about it, but it was nice to see him again. It really was.
He looked good, as usual, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could see enough to know he was already frowning. Also as usual.
For a change, though, Harry was wearing a black t-shirt. Black t-shirt, black wide legged pants, and black shoes.
Black, black, black.
Lia sighed. She wished he could be the one taking their orders and chatting with them. Him, instead of Rohan. At least once.
Jillie elbowed her side, and Lia shook her head. Clearing her throat, she looked from Rohan, to Jillie, to Molly.
They were all watching her.
She forced a chuckle out of her mouth and faced Jillie again. “What?”
“Nothing.” Jillie shrugged. “Rohan was just saying how you’re one of their favorite regulars. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Lia laughed—or tried to laugh—and shook her head again. Vehemently, this time. Almost desperately. “I don’t… No… Yeah, no… I don’t think I am.”
“Of course you are,” Rohan said, drawing all the attention back to him. “I mean, I know you’re my favorite customer, at least.”
Rohan winked, and Lia’s brain froze. Her stomach rolled before heaviness settled in, and her senses seemed to catch every detail around her: her friends coughing next to her, Sage patting Rohan’s shoulder as she walked past him, and Harry snorting and shaking his head behind him.
Heat creeped up through her neck, face, and ears. And all she wanted was to get away from there. To be swallowed by the ground. To vanish from air.
“Oookay…” Molly laughed, throwing her arm around Lia’s shoulder and pulling her close. “So what about getting your favorite customer and her friends two mojitos and a beer, huh?”
— — — — —
“Your little shit!” Jillie hissed, sending her a glare and a laugh from across the table. “You’ve been hiding all this from us? I can’t believe you!”
Next to Lia, Molly laughed and shook her head. “Me neither.”
“And this Rohan guy? Oh my God! Lia! He’s so into you! What the hell?!”
“Yeah. How come you didn’t tell us about him?”
Lia shrugged.
Rohan had always been nice, and maybe he had said a few things here and there that had made her blush before, but he had never been so straightforward with the flirting.
Besides, she didn’t care about Rohan, so she never thought about mentioning him. Why would she?
The girls talked and laughed about her apparently “secret life”, but there was nothing Lia could think to say to them, so she listened.
And as she listened, she hid her face behind the rim of the glass in her hands, then took the first sip of her mojito.
Mint and rum went down her throat, and she pursed her lips.
It was good, but it wasn’t as good as Harry’s.
She twisted her neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the bar, but there were too many people in between.
Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed.
Was there even a way for her to interact with him again?
Should she walk in early on a Wednesday evening again?
What if Sage was there, too?
Would he take the opportunity to ignore her, like he normally did?
Ugh!
See?!
Harry was the one she wanted to talk about, not Rohan.
Why was Rohan the topic of conversation?
Lia faced the table and cleared her throat.
Both Jillie and Molly looked at her, and she shifted on her seat.
“Uh… So… What did you think of Harry?”
Eyeing one girl, then the other, Lia sipped her mojito again.
Jillie shrugged.
“I was so focused on Rohan that I didn’t even pay attention to Harry, to be honest.” She stretched her neck, lifting her head towards the bar’s direction.
“I think… Damn he’s hot,” Molly admitted.
Lia’s lips curled up. “Yeah? You think?”
“Oh yes.” Molly nodded. “The tattoos, the clothes, the hair... And not shaving but also not actually having a beard? Pft. The guy definitely knows what he’s doing.”
Lia’s smile turned into a grin.
She had always been so afraid of her friends (and people in general) judging her, or making her feel embarrassed, that she never allowed herself to just share and enjoy things with others. And in that moment, sitting with them at the bar and gossiping about Harry, as ridiculous as she knew it would sound, she felt less alone.
Damn! She just couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Reisman all about it. She would be happy to know that Lia was finally considering her words to be correct: living outside of her tiny safe bubble could, in fact, be so good for her.
— — — — —
A couple of hours later, Molly and Jillie hugged Lia goodnight and shared an Uber back to their homes.
Lia stood near the bouncer and watched the car drive off, meanwhile tried to find her keys inside of her bag.
She really needed to bring something smaller for those kinds of situations, especially considering she was only across the street from her own apartment.
Why did she even need that much stuff?
She had never stopped to journal in the middle of a drink. And she had never done her nails outside her home. And she had never needed—
“So she has friends, after all.”
Lia jerked her head to one side, and then to the other. It took her a moment to see him, standing alone in the darkness of the tiny alley next to the bar.
Harry was leaning on his right shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed on top of his chest and his head slightly tilted to the side.
He smirked, and Lia’s chest tightened.
“You thought I didn’t have friends?” she blurted out, her tone softer and lower than she had intended to.
Harry shrugged, and his shoulders went up and down theatrically — dragging his crossed arms along with him while his lips curved down.
Lia blinked and looked at the floor.
She was convinced Harry didn’t care about her. A fact that implied he didn’t think about her, nor make assumptions about her.
Thinking again, though, she knew that wasn’t the truth.
Because Harry made assumptions about her. For instance, he constantly assumed she went to the bar to see Rohan. He also tended to scoff and roll his eyes at her, as if she was too predictable.
He didn’t know her, but he acted as if he did.
But... What kind of person he thought she was, then? What kind of person didn’t have any friends?
Did he actually think that low of her?
She was aware of how hard it was for her to be social, to feel comfortable around people, but she had never thought she could be perceived as someone who wasn’t capable of having any friends.
Did that even make sense?
Why did his comment make her feel so… Sad about herself?
So... Lonely?
So insufficient.
So out of place.
Damn.
What was she even feeling?
Her chest ached, and her throat felt sore, but she couldn’t point out exactly what any of that meant… How would she be able to control her emotions, if she couldn’t tell what emotions she was dealing with in the first place?
“Oh c’mon…” Harry scoffed, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, Lia could hear his eyes rolling in his voice. “I was just saying. Don’t be a baby about it.”
He sounded annoyed.
Or maybe disappointed.
Or maybe bored.
Lia looked up and to the left. She focused on the bouncer sitting on the stool and took a deep breath in. Watching him scroll through his phone without a single care about their interaction.
Or maybe pretending not to have a single care about it.
Maybe he was internally laughing about the whole thing. Ready to pat Harry’s back and agree with him. Ready to admit he had no idea why Lia kept showing up over and over again.
Another deep breath in, and Lia looked at the ground, finding her own feet.
Her boots were dirty with beer. She needed to clean them up as soon as she got home. She also needed to wash her hair, because she could definitely smell cigarettes. Were people smoking inside? Was that even allowed?
“See!”
Lia jumped. And looked up again.
Harry snorted and turned to the side, leaning his back completely against the wall and shoving his hands inside of his pants’ pockets. Shaking his head, he murmured, “I knew talking to you was useless.”
Lia’s heart shrunk.
Harry looked defeated. And maybe he really was, because apparently he had finally noticed how boring it was to have an actual conversation with her.
God, he made her feel so, so small.
“You—” Lia closed her eyes. She needed to speak, or she would regret it the next morning. She batted her eyes open and took a couple of steps forward, stopping only when she was in front of him. Closing her hands into fists, she breathed in, and then breathed out. “You need to… Stop.”
“Stop?”
“Yes. Stop! Stop acting like you know a thing about me, because you don’t, okay? If you… If you don’t want to know me then… Then fine. Just don’t. But stop… Just stop being such an asshole to me.”
He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms on his chest.
“Stop calling me an asshole.”
“Then stop being one!”
For a second, it seemed as if Harry’s lips twitched upwards, attempting to smile.
But then he licked his lips, and shrugged.
“How am I being an asshole? We don’t even talk.”
“Well… We… You… We clearly don’t, but…” She sighed and looked at the end of the alley, searching for a safe place to put her eyes and crossing her arms under her chest before she poured her honesty into him. “But when we do, you make sure to point out only the things I hate the most about myself, and that sucks.”
There was silence. A lot of silence. And if she hadn’t heard him sigh, or if she couldn’t see him through the corner of her eyes, she would’ve thought he had left.
Breathe in, Lia.
Breathe out.
“I know I am awkward, okay? And I know I am not fun to talk to. I know it takes me some time to answer, and I know people don’t want to be friends with me. I know all that. Trust me, I know. I know, and I hate that I am this way. But you… You have no idea how hard I try anyway. How hard I keep trying to step out of my comfort zone and just… Be different. Be better. So there’s no need to make fun of me, okay? Just let me be and I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Lia—”
“Don’t. Please. Just… I already hate myself for telling you all this. God… I—I haven’t told these things to anyone besides my therapist. And caring so much about it is another thing that I hate about myself. I know it’s stupid, I know I am old enough and shouldn’t care. I wish I didn’t but… It’s just… Anyway, I don’t need you being mean or making fun of me about it, okay? Finally talking to someone about this it’s... It was supposed to be good for me. It was supposed to… I don’t know… It was supposed to feel good and not... Not like this.”
“Listen—”
“No. Let’s just… Leave it like this, okay? Forget about it. It’s not like you ever cared about me anyway.”
There was a reason why Lia spent most of the time inside her head: it was better than facing the reality of her life.
And for the last twelve months or so, her mind had created a very nice and safe bubble for her to distract herself with. A bubble where she lived happily and unbothered. Where she didn’t embarrass herself. And where she didn’t mess things up.
Her bubble was hers and only hers, but she wasn’t alone in it. Of course she wasn’t.
Since she’d met him at the bar, and even though he had no idea about it, Harry had been there as well.
Lia liked to look at him, she liked to wonder about him, and she liked to fantasize about him. Because Harry was hot. And sexy as hell. And because although she wasn’t into the “dark and mysterious” vibe, she couldn’t deny that Harry made her insides come to live.
He really did.
In her dreams, Lia was sure he was everything she always secretly wanted but never had. Especially in bed.
He looked like the type of man who wasn’t nice, because he didn’t give a damn about being nice. He looked like the type of man who didn’t get attached, who was just after having a good time. Who would sleep with her, send her home, and roll his eyes at her the next time he saw her around.
He looked like the kind of man who could have any woman, at any time, without even having to try.
And Lia had always wondered how it would be like to have sex with someone like that, but she always knew it was a dangerous path to actually walk through. So when he brushed her off, or rolled his eyes at her, or didn’t even acknowledge she was there, she fed her fantasy up. But she wouldn’t be that into him if she didn’t know that’s all it was—a fantasy.
A fantasy that kept her company in her nice and safe bubble. That distracted her. That allowed her to stay by herself without losing her mind.
And a fantasy that ended up nowhere to be seen, because the bubble in which she had been happily living and nurturing all those dreams about him had burst right in front of her. And even though she’d been stupid in the past, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to allow herself to even think about something happening between them again. Nuh-uh.
Not at all.
Not anytime soon.
Not ever again.
Only hours had gone by, but Lia was already all over the place.
She hadn’t slept at all, too busy crying and catching up her breath.
She didn’t think it was fair that Harry had been the one who she’d opened up to, especially because it didn’t feel like opening up to someone. It felt like begging for him not to be mean at her because she was too insecure about herself. It felt like not being strong enough to just let it go. It felt like not being confident enough to act like a woman next to him. It felt weak. It felt sad. It felt awful.
Lia had never been so vulnerable to someone. Not besides Dr. Reisman, at least. So at that moment, when it finally happened — when she finally let it all out — all she had wanted and needed was a hug. And she couldn’t ask him that.
Of course she couldn’t.
So she had to go back to her place and go through all of it all by herself. All alone. Just like she didn’t want to be.
Damn. Her brain hurt from so much thinking. From all the embarrassment, all the judgment, all the regret.
She was spiraling, all over again. And because of a man, all over again.
Another man.
Again.
No. No, no, no. She couldn’t go through all that again. She really couldn’t. She needed to do something. She needed to handle the situation. She had to stop it before she ended up losing herself again.
And she was going to do it the only way she knew how—creating a new, nice, and safe bubble for herself. A bubble that could be her only world for a couple of days.
Or for as long as it took until she felt brave enough to step out of it again.
One day.
Two days.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
A week.
And another one.
“They are all delicious.” Lia crossed her arms on the counter and smiled. “But yeah, Snickers was definitely my favorite one so far.”
“Really?” Cece smiled. The wrinkles around her face doubled, and her hand shook slightly as she handed Lia the card reader. “Thank you, dear. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Hmmm… I don’t think so.” She waited for the confirmation that the payment went through, then added, “But I’ll definitely be here on Friday.”
“Good. I’ll have a slice of your favorite ready for you then. On the house.”
Lia’s smile got wider, and she was filled by this sudden need of giving that sweet lady the biggest and warmest hug.
She couldn’t believe how long it had taken her to discover CC Tearoom, especially since it was right around the corner from her place. Cece’s hands truly turned ingredients into magic. So far, there hadn’t been a flavor that hadn’t made Lia close her eyes and hum to herself. This time, it was the Roasted Strawberries & Cream Cheesecake that had sent her over the moon, but on Monday it had been the slice of Chocolate-Peanut Butter, and the week before three other different ones.
So yeah, she should’ve been there and incorporated it into her routine a lot earlier.
Coffee and pies were so much better than mojitos, anyway.
Besides, she obviously felt way more comfortable sitting on the corner of a welcoming and homelike coffee shop than surrounded by loud and drunk people. And the way Cece and the other baristas treated her? Wow. It only highlighted how stupid she had been going to that bar, pinning over a guy that gave her nothing but coldness and rudeness all the time.
The mere thought of him brought a weird feeling to her belly, and Lia tried her best to push his presence out of her mind. She was getting better at it. Faster. Which was good, because it meant she suddenly wouldn’t even remember about him anymore, right?
She stepped into the summer night breeze and crossed her arms under her chest. Another day had practically gone by. Another Wednesday. Meaning it was almost the end of the week, and then a new one would start. And she would get to repeat everything all over again.
Wake up, go to work, go home, clean up or go out for a coffee (and a slice of cheesecake), get ready for the next day, and go to bed. From Monday to Monday. With an exception here and there — like grocery shopping and doing laundry on the weekends instead of going to work, and also going downstairs and visiting Mrs. Jones for some knitting or a few rounds of card games.
The latest activity had happened for the first time only last Saturday afternoon, but Lia was keen on the idea of making it a habit. Mrs. and Ms. Jones had been living on the second floor of her building for years. They were known by most neighbors as the couple who was always bickering, but could never stay away from each other. And despite Ms. Jones’ explicit complaints about everything and everyone, everybody seemed to like them a lot—probably because no-one took his grumpiness very seriously.
She turned around the corner and looked down at her feet. Her hair blew across her eyes, blocking her view of the black sneakers her parents had given her last Christmas. They were kind of loose on her feet, but at least she wasn’t wearing those white shoes anymore. Or any other color, for that matter. At least she’d gone back to her black neutral low-key outfits.
Taking one hand up, she pulled her hair over her shoulders, then tucked some strands behind her ear.
She focused on the way her legs carried her back to her building, tracing the well-known path her steps absently followed everyday.
There was nothing like a safe, quiet, and laid-back routine, was it?
No, there wasn’t.
It was all she needed.
All she had wanted.
To be okay.
And she had finally achieved it, hadn’t she?
“Lia!”
Out of nowhere, the voice hit her like thunder. Her body staggered for a moment, and the sound lingered inside her.
It was Harry, wasn’t it?
Calling her name?
Her heart raced, and a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body.
No. Of course not.
How could it be?
Why would it be?
“Lia, hey!”
Shit.
Another thunder, and another shock to speed up her heart. Except this time she didn’t stop moving — she walked even faster.
She was afraid to be right, she didn’t want to be right, but deep down she had no doubts. She knew it was him.
She also hoped it would be.
“Wait!”
He sounded louder, and Lia knew that when thunder got louder, it meant lighting was getting closer.
Her heart pounded inside of her chest, and a low buzz rang in her ears.
She closed her hand into a fist, tightening her fingers around her keys. Maybe she could get away with pretending she didn’t hear him. Maybe, if she just walked fast enough, she would reach the door and get inside before he called again. Maybe she could run up the front steps. There were only six of them... Or were they seven? It didn’t matter. Once she got inside her building, she would be fine.
“Lia, please! Hey!”
Just get the key and open the door, Lia. C’mon… C’mon! That’s it! Now, just get inside. Go, go, go!
With shaking hands, she pushed the front door of her building and took a step inside.
“Lia, c’mon! Just, please—Hey, stop!”
Harry’s hand banged against the door, and his heavy breathing echoed between the four walls of the tiny lobby.
Lia turned on her feet with a gasp, finding Harry with his mouth open and one arm stretched out, leaning his weight on the still open door while catching his breath.
Not fast enough, Lia. Not fast enough.
“I just—Fucking hell…” Harry breathed out, chest going up and down densely. He looked down and shook his head, then faced her again. “We need… We need to talk."
Lia crossed her arms and stepped backwards. She pulled her eyebrows together as she looked at him and took her very own version of shaky breaths.
Exact eighteen days had gone by since she’d last seen him. She knew it, because she’d been counting them — as embarrassing and ridiculous as it sounded.
She had been counting them because she was determined to make the number get higher and higher.
So, so determined. So careful, and so mindful of everything.
That’s why she walked her own street with her head down — to avoid even getting a glimpse of him walking in or out of the bar. She lived as if the place didn’t exist anymore. As if she’d never stepped in there. As if she didn’t even care about what the place could be past the door.
She hadn’t counted on the possibility of Harry running after her, though.
After all, why would he?
Why did he?
He was there, flesh and bone, in the lobby of her building. Trying to talk to her. To her.
And just like any other time before, Harry looked just… Stunning.
Absolutely and unfairly stunning.
Wearing all black, just like the last time she’d seen him. Just like when she’d snapped at him and made a fool of herself. When he’d made her realize she needed to take a step back from him.
A tingle spread on her stomach.
She swallowed down, then tightened the grip of her crossed arms.
Under the black fabric of her plain t-shirt, Harry’s body seemed thick with muscle. His arms looked too big for those short sleeves, something she’d already noticed and thought about before. Something she usually enjoyed paying attention to.
Breathe in, breathe out, Lia.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Her stomach tingled again, except this time it heated all over her body.
His strong, imposing figure had always sparked inside her a flush of craving for him. It had been the reason for so many of her not-so-innocent dreams, and the encouragement for so many of her hidden fantasies. She couldn’t recall a time in her life when she had desired a man like that, and it saddened her to think there was nothing she could do about it.
“Please?” Harry insisted, sliding his hand down through the thick wood, but still holding the door open.
Great. She had forgotten to speak. Again.
Lia blinked. And swallowed. “W–why?”
Her voice was shaking just as much as her hands had been seconds before, but she couldn’t allow herself to think too much about that. She didn’t even care, to be honest. All she wanted to know and all she cared about was why.
Why was Harry there?
Why did Harry want to talk to her?
Why couldn’t she just forget about it?
Why couldn’t she just move on?
Why couldn’t she just be different?
Why couldn’t her life be different?
Why couldn’t things be different?
Why couldn’t they be easier?
Why?
Why?!
Why?!
“Because you deserve an apology.”
Lia blinked again. Once, and then a couple more times.
His words not only didn’t answer most of her questions, but also created a bunch of new ones.
What was he even doing?
Was he being serious?
Or was it all just a joke to him?
“I just—I don’t—” She drew her eyebrows closer and closer, until her forehead creased and wrinkled.
"Look,” Harry said, pausing only to take a deep breath in and pull his hair back. “I know I don’t deserve it, and I get that you don’t want to listen… But I just need a minute, that’s all. Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your way. I promise. Please.”
Lia bit the insides of her bottom lip.
Generally speaking, Lia didn’t think she would’ve been able to say no to him, because she honestly didn’t want to say no to him. Still, any doubts that could’ve dared to cross her mind and make her second guess her decision disappeared as she looked at him—as she truly looked at him.
Because everything about Harry looked just the same as always, but somehow he looked completely different from any other time before.
Maybe it was because she’d never seen him in such a casual context—after all, they had never met or talked to each other in any circumstance that didn’t involve the bar.
Shit.
Would she even be able to hold a real conversation with him?
A sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders.
It wasn’t even about that, was it? That is, what felt different. It wasn’t about the context or the place. Right? It was something else… Something about the way he looked at her, perhaps… Something about the way he seemed to carry softness and worry in his stare. Two things she hadn’t seen on him before. Not aiming towards her, at least.
“Okay.” Her voice was soft, and it took her by surprise — she definitely hadn’t planned on speaking up.
And apparently it took Harry by surprise, too, because he widened his eyes and asked, “Okay?”
Lia swallowed, and nodded once.
“Really?” he insisted.
“Yes… Okay.”
“Ok,” he repeated, mimicking her previous nod. He stared inside her eyes for a moment, then glanced down to the floor. It was hard to tell what was crossing his mind as he silently shuffled on his feet, or when he took his free hand up and pulled his hair back. “Right. Yeah, ok. Let’s talk, then.”
Lia pressed her lips together and waited for him to speak up first, mostly because she couldn’t think of one single thing to say to him.
Harry, on the other hand, stood there with furrowed brows and puzzled eyes, as if he was going through his own personal battle inside his own mind.
Until, eventually, he shook his head and cleared his throat.
“Sorry.” He stepped forward, and as he walked inside, he let the door go and looked over his shoulder, watching until it fully closed behind him.
There was a pause, in which he took the time to face her again and shove his hands inside of his pockets.
And then, serious and determined, Harry spoke again. “To be completely honest, I didn’t think this through. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what happened, so I wanted to apologize to you. Because I’m really sorry for the other night. And also… Well, for everything else.”
“You don’t have to,” Lia said, and she hated how she sounded way more fragile and unsure than she wanted to. “Apologize, I mean. It’s fine.”
Harry squinted, and his forehead wrinkled.
“Of course I do. Everything you said the other night was—”
“Please.” She shook her head and looked away from him, tightening her arms around herself. “I—I don’t…”
Her mouth was incredibly dry, and there was an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach that was getting hard to ignore. It was heavy, and it hurt.
She closed her hands into fists, then dug her nails into her palms to prevent herself from getting lost inside her mind. She focused on the mailboxes on the wall to her left, looking for her name that had been printed and attached under the number of her apartment so many months ago.
“I don’t want to talk about what I said. Like, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”
Harry sighed.
“Lia…”
“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just forget about everything.”
“I don’t think that’s—”
The front door opened, and Lia turned her head to the new movement.
“I said I don’t care,” Mr. Jones’ said, his unmistakable voice reaching her ears before she could even see him. He walked in with a frown, but stopped to hold the door open for his wife. “Told you I don’t like the boy.”
Harry looked at his feet and took a step to the side, getting away from the entrance.
“You never like them, Walter,” Mrs. Jones replied with her sweet and shaky voice, walking slowly right behind him. “You’re being worse than—Oh.”
As soon as the woman met Lia’s eyes, she curled her lips into a sweet, wrinkled and excited smile.
“Good night, sweetheart! Didn’t see you there!”
“How?” the man muttered, closing the door while his wife walked a few more tiny steps forward. “They’re standing right in the way!”
Mrs. Jones kept smiling and rolled her eyes, waving her quivering hand in the air.
“Forgive my husband. He finds pleasure in being rude. And grumpy."
Lia forced a polite chuckle out of her mouth, aware that the few hours she’d spent with them over the weekend had been enough to reveal how behind the grumpiness there was a very funny and very caring man.
“‘M just telling the truth,” Mr. Jones muttered again. “Are they or are they not in the way?”
“Of course they aren’t, Walter.” Mrs. Jones dragged her feet through the lobby, right towards Lia and Harry’s direction. “There’s more than enough space for all of us to stand here.”
“But I don’t want to stand here, Mora. I want to go upstairs.”
“You can go ahead if you want. I still need to check the mail.”
Lia stepped backwards, giving the elder lady more room to cross between them and get to the mailboxes.
Mr. Jones grunted at the same time Harry sighed, and Lia pressed her lips together to hold herself back from laughing—or even smiling.
“I finished the scarf we started the other day,” Mrs. Jones said. “You should drop by for some coffee and see the result.”
Lia nodded. “Of course. This weekend, maybe?”
“Sounds good, dear. Do you like apple pie?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll make some, then.”
Mrs. Jones was sweet, she truly was. But as much as Lia didn’t want to admit, they were the worst neighbors that could’ve shown up at the lobby and interrupted them. Because she knew how unhurriedly they lived their lives, and she knew how long it could take them to finally go upstairs.
Besides, she didn’t think they were even aware they had interrupted something, so she also didn’t think they were aware that their presence was holding a conversation back.
Mrs. Jones hummed to herself while finally going through the same mailbox she opened everyday, and Harry cleared his throat.
When Lia looked at him, she found his eyes already watching her. He stood with his hands still inside of his pockets, but the previous softness on his face had been replaced by a clenched jaw and lips pressed together into a line.
“I think I should go back,” he said.
“Oh. O-okay.”
“Yeah. This isn’t—”
“Walter, look!” Mrs. Jones blurted out. “We got another grocery coupon!”
Harry shut his mouth, rolled his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling.
“Those sales are garbage,” Mr. Jones mumbled, standing near the stairs.
“Of course they aren’t,” the woman scoffed. “We get some very nice meals out of them.”
She opened the magazine, eying the content on the first two pages.
“Let’s see what we find today,” she added. “Maybe they’ve got some apples. For my apple pie.”
“Ugh. I wanna go upstairs, Mora…”
Harry rolled his shoulders and faced Lia again, instantly locking his green eyes with hers.
He looked frustrated, or maybe annoyed, and somehow she understood the feeling. Because she was frustrated, too—she didn’t want Harry to leave yet, and she more than definitely didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend a few more minutes with him, or to listen to what else he could have to say.
So whilst he had been interrupted, she had been denied the opportunity to be around him. And all she could think about was how much she wanted for him to stay around. How much she wanted to keep listening to him, and how much she wanted for him to keep talking to her.
Lia’s fingers twitched, and her heartbeat sped up.
She loosened up the grip of her fists, opening and closing her hands a few times. Then, still stuck inside of his green eyes, she took a deep breath in through her nose, licked her lips and voiced quietly, “We can… I mean… Do you want to go upstairs? We can talk there… Y’know, if you want to.”
Harry widened his eyes.
“You sure?”
“Y-yeah. But it’s fine if you have to go. I just… I mean…”
“Upstairs sounds great.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
Lia nodded, too.
She didn’t give herself time to think about what her words could imply.
She couldn’t allow herself to think about what Harry being inside her apartment would mean, because if she did, she would send him away.
And after everything she’d been through, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever forgive herself if she just sent him away.
— — — — —
The walk upstairs was awfully silent, but Lia didn’t know what she could say to him. She wasn’t good at small talk, and she didn’t want to be the one to bring up their previous conversation. So she distracted herself by fidgeting with her keys, cursing when she dropped them, and blushing when Harry picked them up for her.
“Shit.”
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Those were the only words they spoke, then everything went silent again.
Breathless and with a pounding heart, Lia couldn’t tell if it was from walking too many flights of stairs or from the fact that she was about to take Harry inside of her apartment.
The moment she didn’t give herself to think before inviting him, hit her between the first and second floor, and it was only downhill from then on.
What was wrong with her?
What was she even thinking?!
Well, actually she wasn’t thinking. Of course. That had been the whole point, right? She didn’t think, because if she did, she wouldn’t have invited him. She knew she wouldn’t. Of course she wouldn’t! Because she shouldn’t have!
How could she be so freaking stupid?
It’s just… She didn’t even know him! And in the few and short interactions they’d shared in the past several months, he had been nothing but rude and unfairly mean to her.
So, yeah, that was such, such a terrible idea!
She’d just spent days—weeks—deeply regretting sharing her insecurities with him. Pondering about how it was time to finally move on and forget about that crush. And yet there she was again: about to let Harry burst another one of her tiny bubbles. About to open up the front door of her tiny apartment and let him in; then turn on the lights and allow him to see the insides of her safest and most personal space.
So, so stupid!
Lia reached the landing before the last set of steps and exhaled slowly, letting the air out of her mouth as if she could also release all the tension out of her body.
They were almost there.
It was getting real. It was about to happen.
And she’d have to deal with the situation.
There was no going back anymore.
Or, well…
Maybe there was, but…
Did she really want to go back?
No. Of course she didn’t.
She lifted her arm and pointed her keys ahead, aiming at the second door.
“We’re—” Her voice faltered, and heat spread through her cheeks. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “We’re here.”
She walked forward, then focused on putting the key in the lock without trembling. Once she succeeded, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, then reached for the switch and turned the light on.
“Sorry for the mess,” she said, hanging her keys on the wall.
Lia wasn’t a messy person, but she hadn’t bothered with cleaning up her apartment in the last two days.
In her defense, though, she wasn’t expecting any guests. Wednesday or not, people never showed up at her place out of nowhere. She didn’t invite anyone she didn’t feel comfortable with, and those who visited knew her well enough to always give her a heads up.
Two things Harry hadn’t done.
He seemed an exception to absolutely everything in her life so far.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said. He kept his distance, but still stood close enough for her to feel his presence behind her. “You should see my place.”
There was a playful scoff at the end of his sentence, and Lia knew he was only being polite by insinuating how messier his own place was, but still, the prospect of visiting Harry’s home made her insides twinkle.
She had absolutely no idea where he lived, or who he lived with—was it a house? An apartment? Did he live with his family? Did he have any roommates? Did he live by himself? Did he have any pets?
Did he have a girlfriend?
Harry had never given Lia the chance for her to ask anything about his life. He had never given her the chance to get to know him.
If he had, Lia liked to believe she would’ve been brave enough to ask him everything she always wanted to know about him—about his family, his hobbies, his childhood, and even about his dreams.
He had an accent, so was she correct by assuming he was British? Was his family from there, too? Why did he leave the UK? Did he have any siblings, or was he an only child? Did he see them often? If not, did he miss them?
“It’s really nice here,” Harry said.
“Um… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “It’s a good place to live, I guess.”
Up on the fourth floor, her rented apartment wasn’t big, nor fancy. To be honest, she’d always found everything about the place normal and simple, which felt more than enough for her. The space was limited, but it had never felt cramped. A living room and an open-concept kitchen, with only a counter setting the limits between them, and then a tiny hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom.
And that was it. That was all she had to offer.
“You should… I mean,” Lia said, walking further into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, and all that…”
She walked past the coffee table and the messy remains of her laziness from the night before. After the dark gray counter, she rubbed both hands against her jeans, then turned another light on. Just at the same time, the front door clicked, and she jumped around.
Harry stood awkwardly by the dark wood, his hands hidden inside of his pockets, just like before.
“Sorry.” She leaned her side against the end of the counter. “I’m not… I’m not used to having people over, so… I’m not good at this.”
Harry shrugged, curling his lips up just slightly. “I think you’re doing great.”
Lia snorted and looked down at her feet, then crossed her arms under her chest. “Sure.”
“Look, about the—”
“Who’s at the bar?” She blurted out. “Shouldn’t you be there?”
“Uh, yeah… I should, but Sagey is there. She’s covering for me.”
Lia nodded.
“Right.”
Sagey.
The way the nickname for his coworker rolled so easily out of his tongue made her want to crawl into his arms. It screamed affection, and trust, and for a moment she envied the fact that someone could so easily be part of his life.
She closed her eyes for a second, then looked over her shoulder and back to the kitchen.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. Actually—”
“Tea?”
“I—”
“You’re British, right?” She faced him again. “Do you really drink tea or is that just a myth?”
Harry tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips, watching her. And then, after a moment, he just dropped his head down and chuckled.
The joyful, beautiful, and yet discreet sound that came out of his mouth was unexpected, and it once again made Lia’s heartbeat get faster and louder.
“I am British, yeah,” Harry finally said, then looked up at her. The remains of a smile still dancing through his lips. “But I’m good, thank you.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Maybe some other time, though?”
The chances of her and Harry ever meeting at her apartment again didn’t seem likely, let alone for them to have a coffee or tea together. But she wouldn’t tell him that.
Instead, she nodded, and looked down at her feet. “Sure. Another time.”
“Good. Now, do you have any other questions, drinks to offer, or…”
Lia widened her eyes and darted her sight back to him.
She had been rambling a lot, hadn’t she? Not letting him talk and interrupting with awkward and stupid questions and… Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head and straightening up her body. That had been so rude of her! “Really, I… I didn’t mean to keep interrupting you. Sorry.”
“C’mon, it’s fine,” Harry said, taking a step forward and closer to the couch. “I’m just teasing you.”
“It’s just... I’m—I’m nervous, I think? I mean, usually when I’m nervous I just shut up? So I don’t… I don’t really know why I can’t stop talking right now, but... Maybe... I don’t know. I guess… I guess this is a different kind of ’nervous’? I mean… I don’t… Yeah. I—I don’t know. Sorry. Shit. I’ll just shut up now. Sorry.”
She chuckled, but quickly regretted it, letting the sound fade in the silent air around them. It felt awkward, as if she was forcing the fun out of her body. And maybe she truly was, because she didn’t feel like laughing—she just thought it would be polite to do so. That it would be better if she looked happy, instead of insecure. Or nervous. Or sad.
“Lia, I don’t…” Harry looked down, took a deep breath in, and shook his head. When he met her eyes again, his tone—along with his actions—was clearly softer, careful. Almost afraid. “Look, I’m the only one who should be apologizing here. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? And I am sorry Lia, I really am. Those things you said the other night were—"
“It’s okay.” Lia shook her head and stepped towards the couch. “Like I said, I really don’t want to talk about any of the things I said.”
She grabbed the blanket she’d left there the night before, wrapping it as best as she could and holding it onto her chest.
“But I—”
“Those were very personal things for me to share okay? And I just— Please… I mean… I can���t—I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ok. Yes. Of course. I shouldn’t… I don’t want to force you to talk about it. I just need to make sure you know how sorry I am for making you feel that way. Because I really am.”
Shit.
She turned around, dropping the cozy and warm fabric on the armchair.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, c’mon. I was out of line and shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
Lia sighed.
What did he want her to say?
Yes, he’d hurt her, but she was trying to move on. So relieving the whole situation wouldn’t help her.
Besides, it wasn’t Harry’s fault if she didn’t know how to talk or interact with people.
“Lia…” he called.
She dropped her arms to her sides, then turned to face him once again.
She really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Can you please let it go? It’s just… I shouldn’t have said anything. And I’m really embarrassed about the whole thing.”
He hid his hands inside his pockets and shrugged.
“I’m embarrassed, too. Acted like a proper… What was it? Oh right, like an asshole.”
Lia’s mouth curled up into a smile, and she bit her bottom lip to hold it back.
Despite the embarrassment, a part of her felt proud of herself for calling him out that night. Both nights. Standing up to people was really hard for her. She almost never cursed out loud, nor disrespected people in any way, so calling Harry an asshole—more than once—had felt like crossing a bridge.
Still, it didn’t mean she thought it was a nice thing to do. Or that he couldn’t have found it offensive.
“Sorry… For calling you an asshole.”
Harry curled one side of his mouth up. “I totally deserved it.”
There was a playful tone in his voice, but the way he was suddenly looking at her made it impossible for Lia to react.
Dark green irises fixed on her, they drifted all over her face.
Even standing on opposite sides of the living room, Harry focused on her in a way he hadn’t focused before. Giving her all of his attention. As if he was studying her every detail. Or as if he had never seen her before. Or as if he was mapping every left and right to remember a path he’d trail later in time.
To be honest, it would be difficult for Lia to explain, but something about his stare made her stomach flutter. It caused a flush of shyness to spread from her shoulders to her neck, and all over her face.
At the same time, though, his gaze comforted her. It made her feel like he was trying his best to be gentle to her. It made her feel like he was being honest with her. Like he somehow cared for her.
“Shit,” Harry murmured, breaking the moment and looking down to his pants. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, staring at the screen as it flashed between his fingers. “It’s Sagey.”
Oh.
He sighed, yet didn’t make any effort to act on it.
“I should go back.”
Lia cleared her throat, then crossed her arms under her chest.
“Right. Of course.”
“I wouldn’t, but…”
“You have to work.”
“Yeah.”
Time froze as they silently looked at each other.
It felt exciting, even though at moments it took everything inside her not to run away from the intensity of his gaze.
“Sagey is still getting used to everything,” he suddenly added. “And I know she can handle it, but I don’t wanna leave her by herself for too long. Can be kind of hectic sometimes.”
Lia shrugged, pulling her lips into the most genuine smile she could find inside her. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”
“I know, yeah. I just…”
Harry looked down, and Lia tilted her head to the side.
What, Harry?
You just... What?!
He sighed.
“You believe I’m sorry, right?”
Lia didn’t have to force a smile after his words—it came out naturally as she nodded.
“I do, yes.”
“Ok. Good.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the door. “I’ll get going, then.”
“Right. Let me open the door for you.” Lia walked around the coffee table, as fast and as far away from him as she could.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind the fact that she wasn’t going to walk him downstairs—she didn’t think she would be able to handle any more awkward conversations with him.
Harry followed her lead, taking a few steps closer to the door before he cleared his throat.
“You should come by tonight… If you’re free, of course.”
As she opened the door, Lia furrowed her brows. She stepped aside, then faced him again.
Harry chuckled, shrugging lightly and walking outside.
“To the bar, I mean. Feel like I owe you a drink.”
Oh…
Lia rested her temple against the frame, half-smiling at him. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yeah, I do. For being rude to you.”
“Harry, stop. I—”
“Look,” he said, raising both hands in the air and showing his palms to her, “all I’m offering you is a free drink. That’s all, ok? No pressure.”
There was no way she was going to walk into the bar that night, or any other any time soon. But he didn’t need to know that, so Lia bit back a smile, and nodded.
“Okay. Sure. Thank you, then.”
“Ok.” Harry smiled. “Great. Then… I guess I’ll… Well…”
“Yes?”
“Bye, Lia.”
“Bye, Harry.”
“Have a good night.”
Lia chuckled. “Thanks. You too.”
“See you soon.”
“See you.”
“Bye.”
“Goodbye, Harry.”
“Actually…”
He ran back up, and Lia laughed.
“Oh my God.”
“Sorry.” He smiled. “I was just wondering, and you can say no if you want, of course, but… Would it be okay for me to ask your phone number?”
(TWO)
#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harry styles writing#wish i had something to say but i dont#my only hope is that at least some of those who started reading the story back in 2022 and wanted to see the ending are still around#bc i'll get there now#if they're not... then i'll be posting it for myself <3
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irt the lrb what would you say if i said liam & noel spent new years 2023 together in paris
what would you say if i said liam bought the house in france (the one with noel's name carved into the walls) in march 2023 and that month noel talked about wanting to spend several months in paris
which could mean nothing
#just making guesses chatting shit talking bollocks you know how it is#if anyone can debunk that first thing pls tell me!#feel like i'm wearing a tinfoil hat and it doesn't vibe with my outfits if y'know what i mean#feel like i should do a timeline but every time i try it gets out of hand#ok have some very messy puzzle piecing:#liam & noel texting/calling from time to time since jan 2020#noel splits w sara spring 2022 starts spending more time in manchester#maybe march mothers day something happened?? possibly liam & noel met up in april??? that's pure speculation though#pretty boy released oct 31 2022 noel stops wearing wedding ring#noel spends christmas in england for the first time in ages#liam listens to the smiths all christmas eve. on christmas he has a party for close friends and family (including bod)#liam and debbie go to france for the new year to house hunt#liam claims on twitter (no one believes him) that noel is with him on new years day#(((he posts a selfie that i uhhh got very tinhatty about.. don't worry about it)))#noel goes to a football game on jan 5 and he is in a very good mood#divorce news jan 14. liam's divorce playlist jan 15. allegedly out drinking together jan 16. noel does promo for new single jan 17#jan 18th liam claims on twitter noel wants to meet up#peggy's 80th birthday end of jan#liam's hip surgery beginning of feb#feb 6th he claims noel's “coming over later to wipe my arse and change the bedding he's a good lad really”#starts slagging noel off for real again in early march (he'd been “nice” since november's pretty boy promo)#news that he bought a house in france#noel does a bunch of promo at the end of march (when the 3rd single came out) some of which didnt air until june when the album came out#there's one interview where he seems very tired and hungover and he blabs about paris for ages#end of march is the 1st time he tells liam to call him. 2 months later he asks (goads) liam again a bunch of times#anyway i probably forgot some liam tweets from jan/feb and i really haven't looked into 2022 or 2021 yet#but yeah it's pretty clear they were hanging out 👁️👁️ jan 2023 and then things soured by march after liam's surgery#(((kinda wonder if noel ghosted him and then was too scared to call))) ←wondering that bc it's exactly what i would've done :/#the christmas eve/day stuff probably means nothing btw but well i'm feeling insane about the new years stuff don't even worry about it
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🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs
This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.
I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨
Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers
@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore
@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy
@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world
@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again
@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up
@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!
@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it
@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done
@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!
@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn
@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now
@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹
@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??
@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine
@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩
…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read
@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader
~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ��️ ~~
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson angst#eddie munson au#eddie x reader
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that’s so true
word count - 8.3k
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
c/w - language, toxic p/toxic relationship (situationship) (kinda toxic a too)? i guess you could call it angst? but it’s very unserious bc i’ve been doing too much serious stuff. fluff and happy ending. very dialogue heavy
a/n - i don’t usually like to incorporate music into my fics but the anon who gave this prompt specifically recommended it so i hope i did it justice! also, this takes place azzi’s freshman year so like 2021/2022, and i know this song didn’t exist then but this is fiction so i can do what i want 😛. hope yall enjoy!!!
They only have five minutes before they’re supposed to leave with everybody else to Ted’s. Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige Bueckers is very hot and also very much on top of her, and both of these things coincide to create quite the predicament: they can’t stop kissing.
It’s normal for them, lately. Kissing is easier than talking, considering talking has gotten harder since they started—whatever this is. Or maybe restarted is a better word, considering they did this same thing in high school. But back then, the kissing was a little clumsier, often fast and desperate, whereas now they’re older, mature (yeah, right) and they take their time with these things, often just making out for hours before they move on to other things, relishing in not having to worry about either of their parents or siblings barging in on them like they used to.
There’s also another difference—back then, they were dating. Like, introducing each other as their girlfriends, going on dates, holding-hands-in-public dating.
That’s different because today—and for the past six months—they’ve been decidedly not dating.
“We don’t need distractions,” Paige had said after they’d fucked, only a month after Azzi came to UConn. (They had both agreed to stay just friends—best friends—but nothing more. But then they had to live in the same building and watch each other get all hot and sweaty at practice and see each other in skimpy pajamas and who were they to blame, really, when they fucked in that club bathroom one heated but sober night? They had spent a year broken up, a year of being long-distance besties, FaceTiming and texting and posting each other on socials with captions like “happy birthday i miss you” and “come see me”. It honestly would’ve been wrong for them to not fuck.)
“Mm—Paige, wait,” Azzi whispers when they finally separate for air.
“What’s up,” Paige says, eyes roving over every inch of Azzi’s face. Her voice is a little raspy from lack of use and it does things to Azzi’s tummy.
“I—you don’t—we need to go,” Azzi urges, pushing at Paige’s shoulders. Paige, of course, just smiles at that, pressing her knee up in between Azzi’s legs. It’s really not her fault when she gasps a little.
Paige chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then between her eyebrows. “Do we?” she mumbles, pecking the tip of Azzi’s nose and the corner of her mouth. “Like, do we really?”
“Yes, Paige, we do.” Azzi moves one of her hands down to Paige’s occupied thigh, trying desperately to separate the toned muscle from her aching core. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“Definitely not as much fun as this is.”
“Well, we can continue later, when we get home.” That gets Paige to move her knee back, offering Azzi both relief and leaving an ache between her legs. She does her best to flash a sultry smile. “It’s a weekend. We can stay up all night if we want.”
Paige looks at her skeptically. “I thought you were stayin’ sober?”
Azzi moves her head back and forth. “Might not.”
“For real?”
“Uh-huh.” Azzi winds her arms around Paige’s shoulders, then scratches a little roughly down the length of her back, something Paige has always been into. It works, Paige’s jaw dropping just enough to show the pink of her tongue. “I want it, too, P. We just can’t ditch the team again. I think they already suspect us.”
“What?” Paige makes a face and scoffs. “Nah, we’re sneaky.”
“You called me babe in front of everyone at practice.”
“That’s a friend thing.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips, as if to prove just how friendly they are.
“Nika saw you basically groping me the other day, too.”
“I never did that.”
“My apartment, the kitchen. Movie night. I was making popcorn and you came up behind me and grabbed my tits.”
“Hm. Don’t remember that.”
“You said ‘I wanna fuck you from behind right now,’ and poor Nika walked in and stared at us and said, ‘This doesn’t look like you’re making popcorn’.”
Paige groans, dropping her head into Azzi’s shoulder and effectively laying the entire length of her body on Azzi’s. “I did wanna fuck you from behind. You were wearing those jeans…”
“Paige!”
“Okay, whatever.” Paige is a little muffled now, buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Her breath tingles, sending hot shivers up the length of her arm. “I do that to everyone, Nika won’t think anything of it.”
“Oh, really,” Azzi says, tone dropping into something utterly unamused, and Paige’s head pops up when she hears it. “So you say things like that to every bitch?”
Paige’s eyes widen. “No!” she grapples for something to say, and Azzi just raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t—I meant—I just didn’t wanna admit you’re right, I wasn’t—baby.” Paige juts out her bottom lip. It kinda works. “You know I wasn’t thinkin’.”
This is another interesting thing about their current situation: because they’re not dating, they’ve never discussed where they stand in terms of other people. Sure, at the very beginning, they agreed since it was just casual sex, there was no reason for them to be exclusive. They didn’t want to get anywhere near that line of the all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school, and they figured seeing other people—or at least having the option to do so—would steer them clear of that. And it worked for about…two seconds.
But then somewhere down the line things got a little blurry and slowly but surely Azzi stopped thinking of them as friends with benefits and as more of a slightly complicated but also fun situationship. Because at some point they started kissing without the goal of sex or even third base, just little pecks here and there when they had a second alone. And then they started staying a little longer each time after they’d fuck—at first, they’d leave directly after. But then they would stay for some basic aftercare, and then it got to full-on snuggling, and then it got to their clothes in each other’s apartments from how often they’d stay the night with each other. And the most recent development which really cemented things for Azzi: Paige has started using pet names outside the bedroom, something she only ever did while they were girlfriends. It’s only been a few weeks since this started and Azzi was absolutely floored when Paige had picked up her phone call with a, “Hey, baby.”
And now here they are, late for yet another night out because Paige is very clearly scandalized at the mere notion of her seeing another girl—even though it’s supposed to be allowed—and Azzi has to be honest, she doesn’t love the idea, either.
“Aw, c’mon,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t reply. “Don’t be mad at me, mama.”
Azzi blinks up at her, officially not jealous and not overthinking about their complicated situation any longer. “You’re stupid,” she teases, scooting back and sitting up.
Paige follows closely, so that by the time Azzi is propped up against the headboard she’s on her lap. “You’re really stopping us?” she asks.
“We’re already late, I’m sure everybody left without us,” Azzi says, tapping Paige encouragingly on the hip, “so yes.”
Paige doesn’t yet move and doesn’t look like she’s going to until a sharp knock at the door makes both of them jolt. “Hey!” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. “Y’all cannot be taking this long to get ready.”
“I don’t…we just…” Azzi stammers as Paige scrambles off her, and they both get quickly to their feet, making as little noise as possible, “our hair wasn’t cooperating,” she says, reaching up to fix Paige’s tousled hair. “We’ll be right out!”
“You better be, we’re all waiting outside and it’s fucking cold.”
“Coming!” Azzi calls, letting Paige wipe some of her smudged lip gloss, rolling her eyes when Paige smirks at her and says, “Oh, you will be.”
She has no idea what Paige Bueckers is to her, but an annoyance will always take the top spot.
————————————————
When Azzi had claimed she’d stay sober with the other freshmen, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that she has a best friend who loves to party and who loves peer pressuring even more.
“C’mon, just a few shots,” Paige pouts, leaning in too close to her. Azzi glances around the bar, trying to see if anybody is watching them, but she can’t tell. There’s too many people.
“Nobody can hear us,” Paige assures her, placing her hands low on Azzi’s hips, pressing her into the wall of the corner they’re semi-hidden in.
Azzi swears this girl is horrible for her blood pressure. “Paige,” she hisses, removing Paige’s hands, “not here.”
“You shoulda let us stay home,” Paige says, and now that her hands are placed firmly at her sides her eyes do all the wandering for them, raking slowly down Azzi’s body and back up. “I woulda had you fucked out by now, I swear.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Azzi mumbles.
“You seem anxious, baby.” Bravely, Paige holds her again, though this time it’s at a more friendly place, higher up on her waist. Azzi tries to meet her eyes but they’re held firmly on her lips. “Fuck. I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“No, Paige,” Azzi says, as sternly as possible. She would rather like to kiss her too, but not here, not now, not when Paige is tipsy and Azzi is horrendously sober.
“Okay, I’ma go get me another dirty shirley.” Azzi swears she would marry that drink if she could. “And I’ma grab a couple shots for you while I’m at it. And then we’re gonna fuck in the bathroom.”
Azzi smacks Paige on the arm. “I’m done with public restrooms. Once was enough.”
Paige, still sober enough to have some sort of common sense, wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m still grabbing shots.” She smacks a wet kiss onto her forehead and with that, turns around to head toward the bar.
Azzi doesn’t get a second of peace before someone else is sidling up to her. Though when she looks over she sighs with relief when it’s just Caroline. “Hey, Carol.”
“You’re so lucky you have a girlfriend who’ll buy you shots,” Caroline says, looking wistfully in Paige’s direction.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Caroline side-eyes her. “Uh-huh.”
“She’s not. We broke up.”
“And then got back together.”
Azzi shoves her away before pulling her back, linking their arms together as she leads them towards their team’s section of seats. “Nope. We’re still exes.”
“Exes who are romantically involved.”
“Carol,” Azzi groans, urging her to shut up as they approach the rest of the girls. “We’re just friends.”
It used to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying to her closest friend, the one whose shoulder she cried on when she and Paige broke up. But after six months of doing it, she’s used to it. And it’s not like Caroline believes her, anyway.
“Okay,” Caroline says skeptically. “So if the guy that’s been looking at you since we got here asked for your number, you’d give it to him?”
They’re at the team’s booth now, and Amari perks up at the mention of the slightest possibility of drama. “What guy?”
“I haven’t noticed a guy,” Azzi says, which is the truth. As it usually goes, she’s only had eyes for Paige tonight.
“Over there,” Carol says, leaning against the table and gesturing subtly across the bar. “Muscle shirt.”
“Immediately no,” Azzi replies, not even looking for him in the group of guys across the room. But he must be actively searching her out because just as she’s about to look away she catches his eye, and even though she immediately looks away, she can still see him grin out of the corner of her eye.
“Uh-oh,” Amari mutters. “You engaged him.”
“Don’t make eye contact,” Azzi says, turning away from him to face her friends. “Make yourself unapproachable.”
Caroline turns away, too, and the two of them lean over the table.
Aaliyah looks up from the conversation she was having. “What’re you guys doing?”
“Hiding,” Azzi hisses.
Amari peeks around Azzi’s shoulder, then settles back in her seat. “He’s coming over.”
“What?” Azzi wants to look at him but doesn’t, instead inching herself closer to Caroline. “Save me.”
“Who is that?” Aaliyah asks, not-so-subtly staring at the guy.
“A man about to flirt with Azzi,” Caroline says, nudging her away.
“Oh, Paige is gonna be maddd,” Aaliyah sing-songs, and they all giggle like this is funny and not absolutely awkward and stress-inducing.
Azzi glares at them. “She has no reason to be mad.” And it’s true, she kind of doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.
“Oh, yeah?” Caroline asks, glancing behind them just as Azzi feels the man come up behind her. “We’ll see about that.”
And then there’s a tap on her shoulder, and Azzi takes a deep breath before turning around with a strained smile on her face.
“Hey.” Muscle shirt is standing a little too close for comfort, which she’s sure he’ll excuse by the crowded bar but is obviously just him being weird. “You’re Azzi, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, leaning back against the table.
“I’ve seen you around,” he continues, smiling cockily, obviously very proud of himself for being brave enough to approach her. “You come here a lot, right? To Ted’s?”
Azzi shrugs, looking casually to her side in the hopes that Caroline will rescue her, but to her astonishment she has slid into the booth next to Aaliyah and is now chatting happily with the rest of the team. “I guess.”
“Noticed you weren’t with Bueckers,” he says, and she winces. Not five sentences into the conversation and he’s already brought up her current situationship. “Thought it was a good opening.” He laughs. She doesn’t.
“How so?” she asks, a little nervously.
“I mean, she obviously doesn’t want anybody coming near you.” A girl squeezes past behind him and he takes it as an excuse to inch even closer to her. Azzi presses herself further back into the table. “Can’t even look your way without her looking like she’s gonna fight someone.”
“She’s just protective,” Azzi says. As if Paige would do that for any of their friends, as if that level of pure possessiveness is normal.
“Right.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You didn’t ask my name.”
God. Why are men so…gross? “My bad.” He stares at her expectantly. “Uh…so…?”
“I’m Elliot,” he says, grinning at her. That muscle shirt is really not doing good things for him. “You want me to buy you a drink?”
“Um, actually—“
“She’s good.”
Azzi’s shoulders sag at the mere sound of Paige’s voice. She can’t help but smile when Paige approaches them, moving roughly past Elliot to sidle up next to her. She hands her two brightly colored shots before slinging an arm around her, firmly ignoring Elliot. “Gotchu these. Lemme know if you don’t like ‘em.”
Azzi nods, and usually she’d shy away from the physical contact, especially right in front of their friends, but now she leans into it, safe under Paige’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I took so long.” As if sensing her discomfort—which she probably can—she rubs her thumb soothingly over her shoulder. “They’re super busy up there. You okay?”
Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Elliot interrupts her. “She’s fine, dude. We’re just talking.”
Paige looks at him. “Aight. Well, you can be done talking now.”
Their teammates have gone mostly quiet behind them, and Azzi rolls her eyes when she hears them snickering.
Elliot scoffs, but he’s skinny and a little shorter than Paige, and when her arm tightens around Azzi’s shoulder he puts his hands up. “Damn, okay.”
Azzi breathes a sigh of relief when he’s gone. “Thank god. That was so awkward.”
“You shoulda called me,” Paige says, dropping her arm to turn around and face their teammates. “And y’all shoulda helped her out.”
The girls look up at them innocently. Amari smiles charmingly at Paige and says, “We knew you were gonna do it soon enough.”
Azzi shakes her head and downs one of the shots. It is as disgusting as it looks.
“You guys suck,” Paige says, pulling Azzi into her side once again. “Leaving my girl in the trenches like that.”
Dozens of eyebrows raise at that, and it’s then that Azzi smells the booze on Paige’s breath. She flushes, trying to pull away. “P,” she mutters.
“I know,” Paige says, holding fast to Azzi’s waist, setting her shirley on the table so she can wrap the other around her, too.
“Paige,” Azzi urges, pressed completely now into Paige’s chest and trying desperately to ignore the scrutinizing looks from her teammates. She hopes they’re all too drunk to think hard about Paige’s behavior.
“Yeah,” Paige says, her hand creeping slowly down Azzi’s back.
“Did you have another drink?” Azzi asks, trying to walk them away from the booth, but Paige keeps her feet planted.
“I might’ve had another shot.” Paige grins, and Azzi would easily admit she likes it a lot more than muscle shirt’s. “Missed you, baby.”
The girls are pretending not to eavesdrop, but they’re clearly listening, sharing furtive glances with each other. Which is just—great. Because tomorrow the girls are going to have questions and Paige will be sober enough for that to stress her out, which will in turn stress Azzi out, and there will be no saving face if she lets Paige continue on like this.
“Not now, Paige,” she hisses, trying desperately to push her back.
Paige pouts. Their faces are far too close together. “What, you wanna go back to that guy or sum’?”
Azzi knows she’s not serious, but it still annoys her, and she doesn’t feel quite as comforted in Paige’s arms anymore. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”
Paige scoffs, maybe a little more serious now. “Course you aren’t.”
Azzi blinks at her, and when Paige’s hands drop to her sides she takes a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I dunno.” Paige gestured between them. “Just that you never wanna be around me unless we’re fu—“
Azzi’s overstimulated and irritated, but she still has enough common sense to shove Paige hard enough to shut her up. “Don’t.”
Paige watches as Azzi drinks her other shot. “What? You really don’t want anybody to know, huh? You that embarrassed or something?”
Azzi shakes her head in disbelief, stepping back towards Paige so they can at least have this conversation too quiet for anybody to hear. “Are you dumb? You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”
“Because I didn’t want my teammates thinking I was distracted!”
“Our teammates, Paige.” Azzi gives her another little shove for good measure, and then she steps away again. “You’re acting stupid. Go chill out and come back when you wanna be normal.”
“Fine. I will.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. Azzi rolls her eyes at her hot-headedness. They’re both too stubborn for their own good, but Paige is ten times worse when she’s drunk and Azzi has always been more logical. Little, senseless arguments like this never happened when they were dating—or even when they were broken up—but now that they’re at this weird in-between, they’re becoming more frequent.
Hence why they prefer to kiss instead of talk.
Azzi plops down beside Amari, grateful when nobody questions her, and feels a little better when she thinks about how good the make-up sex will be later.
—————————————
There will be no make-up sex tonight. Or ever, Azzi thinks bitterly, glaring daggers at the girl Paige is currently feeling up.
Okay, feeling up might be an overstatement. She has a hand on her arm. But Azzi knows better than anyone that for Paige, hand-on-arm action might as well be foreplay. And the girl seems to sense it, too, if her batting eyelashes and twinkling smile have anything to show for it.
“She’s just doing it to make you jealous.” Once again, it’s Caroline, sidling up next to Azzi to study the tall blonde across the bar.
“I have no reason to be jealous,” Azzi all but spits out, and Caroline smirks.
“Pretend all you want, Az. But it’s impossible to not see what’s going on with you and her.”
“There’s nothing.” Paige’s fingers trail down the length of the girl’s arm and it’s almost like Azzi can feel it, too.
“Are you guys exclusive?”
“No,” Azzi responds immediately, too tipsy to be thinking straight, and when Caroline smiles proudly to herself, she backtracks. “I mean, obviously not. We’re not anything.”
“Well, if you’re not exclusive, she’s not doing anything wrong.”
Azzi hates this bitter reminder and turns her anger onto her best friend. “Shut up, Carol.”
“You two should probably talk about not seeing other people,” Caroline says, as wise and perceptive as ever. (She is also significantly more sober than Azzi is.)
“She can see whoever she wants,” Azzi seethes, stirring the ice in her drink. “I don’t care.”
Paige’s eyes flit from the girl’s face to Azzi. And then, with a little smirk, she leans in to whisper something in her ear, blue eyes never leaving brown as the girl giggles and grabs onto her arm. She smiles, too, and Azzi takes some satisfaction in the fact the girl has no idea she’s not the one Paige is doing this for.
She’s always been good at putting up a show. And Azzi has always been her captive audience.
Not tonight, Azzi decides as she looks firmly away. It’s about time Paige learns to behave herself.
—————————————-
It’s been a long night of drinking and trying not to watch Paige attach herself to this random girl’s hip when Azzi is approached by none other than random girl herself.
She’s gorgeous up close, but Azzi can’t help but notice her brown curls and crescent dimples, the way they’re the exact same height. It nearly makes her laugh.
“Hey,” the girl says, dropping into the bar seat next to Azzi.
“Uh,” Azzi says, vey tipsy and very irate. “Hey.”
“What’s that? It looks so good,” the girl asks, pointing to her drink. Her voice is soft and kind, nothing malicious gleaming in her eyes. Azzi hates it.
“Just a mango daiquiri,” Azzi responds, kind of unable to be snarky about it with the wide-eyed way the girl is looking at her.
“Oh, fancy! I’m definitely gonna cop that.” She smiles conspiratorially at her. Azzi can’t help but smile back. Okay, now she just kind of hates herself. She’s never been one to be rude to girls she’s jealous of. Especially not harmless, sweet ones.
“It’s so good,” she’s saying before she can help it. “And they come in all different flavors so there’s like, endless possibilities.”
“Stop,” the girl gasps.
“I know!” and then they both giggle like the tipsy college students they are. This is possibly even better than hating her, because it’s almost like a smack in the face: look at me, Paige, being the bigger person. Making best friends with your target of the night. How’s that feel?
“Hey,” the girl giggles, leaning her elbows on the bar. “You’re Azzi, yeah? You play so good.”
“Thank you!” Azzi gushes, flashing her dimples as the girl does just the same. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Haven,” she replies. Even her name is nice. Azzi thinks about how Paige must’ve thought the same thing when they met a few hours ago, but she doesn’t like the thought, so she pushes it firmly away.
“Hey,” Haven says, sounding suddenly hesitant. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. About…Paige?”
Azzi’s eyes snap to where the blonde sits at the team’s booth—she always seems to know where Paige is in a room, though she never remembers tracking her movements—before she quickly looks back to Haven. “What about her?”
“Well…that,” she says.
“What?” Azzi asks, stirring her drink casually.
“The reaction you just had to me saying her name.”
Okay, so Azzi apparently does not appear as cool and collected as she thought. “Oh, that was just—I mean, she’s my best friend.”
“Yeah?” Haven asks. “Because I kinda got the impression y’all were…”
“No,” Azzi says, trying to contort her features into something like disgust. “Ew. Never.”
Haven raises her eyebrows. “Never?”
Why is everybody deciding to clock Paige and Azzi’s shit tonight? “Okay, like, maybe at one point. But it’s over.”
“Really.” She does not sound convinced at all. Glancing over at Paige, Haven leans forward, as if she’s afraid they’ll be heard. “It’s just, she keeps looking at you and you keep looking back and she was all over you earlier, so like—“
“I wouldn’t say she was all over me.”
“She totally was.” Haven’s looking at her like she’s clueless. “I just…listen, Paige invited me over tonight.” Azzi’s stomach drops. So definitely no make-up sex then. In fact, Azzi might as well pack up her vagina right now because Paige has ruined everybody else for her, too. “And I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything,” Haven continues, completely oblivious to Azzi’s internal vow of celibacy, “especially nothing messy.”
“Yeah, no, I totally get that.” Azzi sighs heavily; considering their situation is exactly what one might describe as messy, Azzi figures it’s probably the right thing to do to tell this poor girl the truth. “To be honest, we kinda are…I dunno. I mean, we fuck.”
“Okay,” Haven nods, sounding not at all surprised.
“She stays over most of the time. I stay at her’s sometimes, but she mostly stays at mine.”
“Spare toothbrushes in each other’s bathroom?”
Azzi winces. “Possibly.”
“Yeow.”
“And, like, generally, we don’t see other people. We used to, at the beginning, but not anymore. We were just talking about it today, actually. Well, not talking about it—we don’t talk about stuff. We’re not serious enough for Paige to wanna talk about stuff.” Azzi is rambling now, and Haven is hanging onto her every word, and Azzi thinks she loves making fast friends with other girls then realizes this is the exact thing that happens every time she gets drunk. Perhaps she crossed over that line awhile ago.
The two of them have their heads close together now, the rest of the bar completely shut out. “But anyway, she said something and I was like, what, you say that to all your bitches? You know, mostly joking but not.”
“Of course.”
“And she was all, no, baby, I would never ever have other bitches, don’t be mad,” Azzi says, deepening her tone in a stupid caricature of Paige’s voice.
Haven gasps. “That was today?”
“Like ten minutes before we came here.”
“And then she was all up on me tonight.” Haven glares in Paige’s direction. “Damn.”
“I know. But like, yeah, we’re not exclusive or anything so it’s fine. But it’s not, you know?”
“Oh, for sure. That’s fucked up,” Haven says haughtily. “So, wait, how long has this been going on for?”
“Uh…six months?” but no, that doesn’t feel right. “Well, I guess, like, four years? But six months.”
Haven blinks at her.
Azzi sighs. “We were super serious in high school.”
Haven nearly screams, slamming her hand on the bar. “She’s your ex?”
“Yes!” Azzi cries, and it feels so, so good for someone to understand her situation. “We were so in love and shit! And then things started feeling weird the summer before she came here—because, like, I’m a year younger than her so she was gonna be in college while I was still in high school and I—I could tell she didn’t wanna be tied down by her lame hometown girlfriend so I ended things.”
“Girl!” Haven yells.
“I had no other choiceeee,” Azzi groans. “She woulda broken up with me if I hadn’t broken up with her.”
“You’re crazy,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That girl is down bad.”
“Stop,” Azzi says, waving her off.
“She is, horrendously.” Haven gestures over to Paige. “As soon as you got to UConn she wanted to start something with you, right? And then y’all have a little tiff and she’s doing the most with another girl just to get your attention?”
“She asked you to go home with her,” Azzi points out. “That definitely wasn’t for my benefit.”
“Um, I’m sorry, have you not noticed how scary alike we look?” Haven asks, and Azzi flushes. “She was definitely gonna pretend I was you. Which I’m not down for, like, at all.”
“She’s such a dick,” Azzi says. Because she may have been in love with Paige Bueckers since high school, but yeah, she’s still kinda a dick.
“Totally,” Haven agrees. “But…
“Don’t tell me you’re about to defend her.”
“Listen!” Haven places her hands on Azzi’s shoulder. “I think her heart’s in the right place. She wants you. She’s just a little…misguided.”
Azzi shakes her head. “She was the one who said we couldn’t be serious. She said we couldn’t have ‘distractions’.”
“And you didn’t stop to think that maybe she was still insecure and hurt by the fact you broke up with her and was protecting herself from getting hurt again?”
Azzi blinks at this drunk, genius girl in front of her. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. You know what, I’m starting to think maybe you’re both a little stupid.”
Azzi shoves her. “Don’t get so cocky, you could be wrong!”
“I could,” Haven admits. “But where would that leave you? With an asshole ex-girlfriend who messes with your head for fun?”
Azzi thinks maybe, if they didn’t look so uncannily alike, she could kiss this girl. “I love you.”
“Girl, I love you more.” Haven pats her arm and leans back on her barstool. “Now take Auntie Haven’s advice and give her the silent treatment for a few days. She’ll realize her mistakes and come running back real quick.”
“What if I don’t wanna take her back?” Azzi says, already knowing it’s bullshit.
“You do. But you gotta make her work for it. And then you have to communicate with her.”
Azzi makes a face. “Didn’t I already tell you we don’t like talking?”
Haven rubs her temples. “There’s your main fucking problem, Azzi.”
It’s then that Haven’s eyes trail to something over her shoulder and before Azzi can ask there’s a large, warm, all-too-familiar ringed hand on her shoulder. “What’re you two talking about over here?”
Azzi looks first at the hand on her shoulder, then slowly up to Paige’s face. Paige raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and then Azzi looks back at Haven, meeting her eyes.
And then they laugh.
“What?” Paige nearly demands.
Azzi brushes her hand off, still giggling. “Leave us alone, Paige.”
“I just didn’t know y’all knew each other,” Paige says, and Azzi delights at how confused she sounds. “Because you two seem pretty buddy-buddy over here.”
“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely,” Haven quips. Azzi giggles.
“Never said I was.” Paige moves from behind Azzi, going to stand beside them, studying them closely. “You two are drunk as hell.”
“So are you!” Haven and Azzi both say at the same time, and tears are forming at this point. Azzi holds on to Haven’s knee to keep herself from falling off her chair.
“Aight, yeah, I’m getting you an Uber,” Paige says to Haven, before touching Azzi’s arm, “And I’ma walk you home.”
“I can get my own Uber,” Haven says haughtily, but Paige already has her phone out.
Once again, Azzi bats Paige’s hand away. “I don’t wanna go home with you.”
Paige rolls her eyes, still navigating through her phone. “I figured, Az. But we live in the same building. Just lemme walk you.”
“You’re not sober enough to walk me.”
“I’ve been drinking water for the past hour, I’m pretty much good.” Paige shuts her phone off and looks at Haven. “You car’ll be here in fifteen.”
“Wish you were pretty much good a couple hours ago,” Azzi grumbles.
Paige’s expression becomes a little less nonchalant at that. “I know, mama, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
And that almost works. But then Haven sends her a warning glare and she straightens up. “No, thanks.”
Paige’s face scrunches up like it always done when she’s shocked, and Azzi hates that it’s still the cutest thing in the world. “Whatchu mean?”
“Exactly that,” Azzi says, standing from her barstool. Her butt is sore from sitting for so long. “And I’ll walk home with the rest of the team, thanks.”
Paige splutters. Haven gives her the middle finger.
—————————————
Later, when they are walking home—stumbling, more accurately—Azzi is leaning against Aubrey when she hears familiar footfalls coming up behind them and braces herself.
“Hey, Azzi,” Paige calls, catching her arm as she catches up. “Come walk with me.”
“I wanna walk with Aubrey,” Azzi says petulantly.
Aubrey looks awkwardly between the two of them.
“Bro, just—“ Paige stops, mindful of their audience. “Let’s just talk, okay?”
“No, thanks.”
“Azzi, c’mon.”
“I’m drunk and I’m cold and I’m mad at you. Leave me alone.”
Paige looks desperately to Aubrey for help. Aubrey just shrugs and says, “What’m I supposed to do? She said what she said.”
“Thank you,” Azzi huffs.
“Man, fuck this,” Paige says. Azzi feels very satisfied when Paige falls back, leaving her alone. But her arm also tingles where Paige had caught it.
Oh, yeah. This makeup sex had better be good for the trouble she’s going through.
—————————————
It isn’t until the next day that, during a car ride with Caroline, Azzi disovers it.
The two of them have always had similar music tastes, so when an unfamiliar song comes on over the speaker, she’s a little surprised. However, as she listens to the lyrics, she finds herself even more surprised at how much they resonate with her.
I could go and read your mind
Think about your dumb face all the time
Living in your glass house I’m outside
“Hey,” she says, “what song is this?”
“That’s So True,” Caroline answers, still staring ahead at the road. “By Gracie Abrams. Why?”
Looking into big blue eyes
Did it just to hurt me, make me cry
Smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life
“Oh,” Azzi says casually, “no reason.”
——————————————
It becomes very apparent there is a reason when, over the next week, the song becomes everyone else’s problem.
So apparent, in fact, that the team actually starts to worry about her.
“What did you do to her?” Aaliyah asks as soon as Paige walks into the apartment.
“You broke her,” Amari says.
“That stupid song kept me up all night and it’s your fault,” Aubrey continues, pointing menacingly at Paige.
“I didn’t do nothing!” Paige says, backing away from her angry friends.
“You better fix it,” Amari says. “Like, now.”
“Fix what?”
Oddly, they all go quiet at this. Paige is about to ask what’s up with them when music begins blasting from somewhere in the dorm.
“That,” Aaliyah says.
Paige scrunches her nose. “Bad pop music?”
“It is not bad,” Caroline says defensively, joining them in the entryway. When she gets judgmental looks from the other girls, she sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t bad. But Azzi’s been listening to it nonstop for a week and it used to be my favorite song and now I’m sick of it.”
“We’re all sick of it,” Amari adds unhelpfully.
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Paige says, but of course she’s lying. From what she can make out the lyrics are about a break up, maybe, something to do with jealousy and anger. With the way Azzi’s been dodging her this week (calls sent straight to voicemail, texts left on read, not even a hint of eye contact when they see each other) she knows she fucked up at the party.
It’s not like them to fight—really, it’s not. They’ve gotten into more arguments this year than they have in their entire friendship. Obviously, there’s a correlation there, something major signaling that this whole friends-with-benefits thing doesn’t work for them. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the whole best-friends-who-dated-then-became-exes-then-friends-with-benefits thing that they can’t do.
But either way—fights? Like, actual fights that Paige can’t talk (or kiss) their way out of? Those are rare.
She didn’t think their argument at the bar was that big a deal. Didn’t even think her flirting with another girl would make Azzi mad. (She’d been hoping for jealousy because dysfunctional as they may be, the sex is really good and it’s even better when one of them is all riled up).
She has a sneaky feeling this all has to do with that girl at the bar. Haven. The cute one who looked a lot like Azzi and seemed super into Paige until she turned around and became best friends with none other than Azzi herself. She should’ve known that would happen. Azzi always makes friends when she gets drunk.
She just wishes this bout of silence (and celibacy) between them would end already.
“You can’t be serious,” Amari says.
Paige shrugs.
“We all know you two are fucking, Paige,” Caroline says quite bluntly.
And, okay, the sheer panic that Paige feels at this is maybe a little ridiculous.
She never wanted the team—anyone, really—to know she and Azzi were back together. Because, well, they weren’t, for one, and there’s no good way to tell your parents, “Hey, you know how I was super emo about how the love of my life broke up with me before college? Yeah, well, it’s been a year and I’m not totally over it but I fucked her in the bathroom at a club and we’re going steady—as in, fucking—now!”
But the main reason she didn’t want anybody to know is because she was—is—so afraid of having her heart broken again. And if she keeps this to herself, then she gets to act like she doesn’t care if history repeats itself. Gets to move on and not think about it and use other people as rebounds without anybody batting an eye.
But it’s been six months of them going from friends with benefits to best friends who also kiss and have sex to best friends who kiss and have sex exclusively with each other. She may have gotten a little too cocky, may have thought they were finding solid ground, and may have not put so much effort into hiding it.
But Azzi hasn’t spoken to her for a week and she doesn’t even remember what solid ground feels like anymore so yeah, the notion of her friends knowing about them when they may be on the brink of ending is a little scary.
“Okay,” Amari says tentatively when Paige stares blankly at them, “don’t freak. It’s not a big deal. We don’t care.”
“No, I—I know,” Paige stutters.
“Seriously, P, it’s cool,” Aubrey says, patting her shoulder. “Just, you know, go fix it.”
That song has played three consecutive times since this conversation started. They may be right. Paige might’ve broken her.
Might’ve broken them.
“And while you’re at it,” Caroline adds, giving her a little push in the direction of Azzi’s room, “make sure you guys are official so we don’t have to deal with this again.”
Paige tries to plant her feet to prevent her advance towards Azzi, but Aubrey rounds to her front and starts pulling at her arms while Amari pushes and then she’s directly in front of a door with a pink ‘welcome’ sign hanging off the front. As that song thuds accusingly through the door, Paige doesn’t feel very welcome.
“Okay, stop being a pussy,” Aaliyah pipes up from behind them, “and go in there. Please.”
“Make it stop,” Aubrey says. She almost sounds like she’s about to cry.
Paige stares at them, wondering if they’re really going to make her do this. But they all nod at her before disappearing down the hall so it’s just Paige in front of Azzi’s door and she could leave, could just go back home but she’d never hear the end of it from her teammates. (And she might end up hating herself if she does that, too.)
So, with a deep, steadying breath, Paige lifts her fist and knocks.
“Coming,” Azzi calls. Blessedly, the song turns off and there’s some rustling inside before the door creaks open.
Paige expects a lot of things when Azzi first sees her—anger, upset, a door slamming in her face.
What she doesn’t expect is the satisfied smile that flits across Azzi’s face before she carefully fixes her expression into something more somber.
“Uh, hey,” Paige says. “Can I—“
“Come in,” Azzi says gravely, opening the door all the way to let her through.
“Uh, aight.” Nervously, Paige walks past Azzi, a little afraid that is some sort of trap based off the strange way she’s acting. Once she’s inside and the door’s shut, she faces the younger girl, though doesn’t quite look her in the eye. “So, I just…you know, about the other night. At Ted’s.”
Azzi nods. “Go on.”
“Well, I know I started that lil argument and I feel bad.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was just drunk and I wanted your attention so I acted stupid.”
Azzi crosses her arms impatiently. Paige wishes she had written this down and practiced beforehand or something.
“And with that other girl—“
“Her name’s Haven,” Azzi says sharply.
Paige blinks at her, surprised. “Yeah. Her. Well—“
“She’s actually really nice. We’ve been texting.”
Paige can’t help but scoff a little at that. “What, you gonna leave me for her or sum’?”
“We look related, so no,” Azzi says, raising an eyebrow. “And if I remember right, I thought it was you asking her to come to your place that night.”
Shit. So the two of them really did talk about everything. That’s not great for her.
“I didn’t mean it,” Paige says, which is very much true—she doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Haven had agreed to come over that night, but she certainly wouldn’t have kissed her. “I just, we were arguing and I wanted to make you jealous so we could, like, kiss and make up.”
Azzi crosses the room to sit on her bed, and Paige hovers awkwardly, wondering if she should follow. She decides on staying put. “I was jealous,” Azzi says. “But it just pissed me off.”
“I know, and it was a stupid thing to do.”
“I just—I thought we weren’t really, like, seeing other people.”
Paige freezes. This is completely outside of argument-at-Ted’s territory and it seems a little more like serious-talk-about-us time. Which Paige is just not prepared for at all. She should’ve made notecards for this.
“I mean—we aren’t—but, like…” Paige trails off, and she knows it’s bad how uncertain she sounds when hurt flashes over Azzi’s expression.
“Have you? Been seeing other people,” she asks, and Paige can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, putting on a brave face, but in reality she’s terrified of the answer.
Paige rushes to reassure her. “No, Az, no. Not a—seriously, not a single person. Not since that day at the club.” Not since the day Azzi came to UConn, if she’s being a little more accurate. But Azzi doesn’t need to know that.
Again, Azzi tries to act like it doesn’t affect her. But Paige knows her far too well—far too intimately—to miss the way her features relax, her shoulders lowering just a little bit. “Me neither,” she says softly.
Paige lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding at that. “Okay.”
“So…what does that mean?” Azzi asks tentatively.
Now that Azzi seems a little less guarded, Paige takes her chance to sit beside her on the bed, though not too close. “I dunno,” she says lamely, but when she’s met with a heavily annoyed silence, she sighs and tries desperately to think something up. “I mean. We can’t really be casual and exclusive. That’s not really how that works.”
“Yeah,” Azzi says.
Paige waits for her to pick up the conversation at least a little, but she doesn’t, and Paige is forced to go on. “I don’t—I think it’s not even something I want anymore. The whole casual thing.”
It’s hard, getting the words out, like each syllable is a barrier being broken, and maybe it is. Paige looks down at her hands, fiddles with them, anything so she doesn’t have to watch Azzi’s reaction.
“Paige,” Azzi says quietly.
And when Paige catches the hesitancy in her tone—the fear—she is suddenly too desperate and maybe even too in love to keep quiet just because it’s hard. Because she can’t do this, not again. She can’t watch Azzi walk away without at least putting up a fight.
“I know what I did was wrong,” Paige blurts out before Azzi can say anything else. She looks up, stares at the wall ahead, before turning to Azzi. She tries to detect the look in her eyes and what it may mean, but can’t. “At Ted’s. And I’m sorry. I guess I just—these past six months have been so—I mean, they’ve been good, but they’ve also been super fucking confusing and kinda scary, too. It’s like I’m always on edge waiting for you to end things, so whenever we get too close to how we were—before, in high school—I back out, no matter how hard it is. No matter how good it feels to have you again.”
Azzi opens her mouth, the beginning of a word escaping, but Paige’s heart races and she stands, stopping her. “But I’m realizing that I don’t think I can do that with you. I don’t think I can be just friends with you, or friends with benefits, or even whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing. Every day since you ended things I’ve been a fucking wreck, Azzi.” And it’s true. Her freshmen year had been hard, spent sleeping with random caramel-skinned, dimpled girls to try and fill the Azzi-shaped void in her heart. And the summer after was hell, too, reconnecting with Azzi long-distance and trying to become friends again, acting like they were never anything more. And the past six months has been the worst of it all, because having Azzi but not really having her, keeping her at an arm’s length and teetering on this edge of will she do it again and when will it happen proving almost painful.
Azzi stands, too, stepping in front of her, tilting her chin just slightly up to make eye contact like she’s always had to do. “I didn’t want that, Paige,” she says, almost as if she’s pleading. “I wanted—I thought you’d have more fun if you were single. I thought you’d resent me for, like, tying you down.”
Paige looks at Azzi for a solid few seconds, trying to discern whether she’s fucking with her. And when Azzi doesn’t laugh or tell her this was all a stupid prank she turns around, pushes her hand through her hair, and then faces her again. “Are you fucking for real?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says sheepishly. “I thought—I don’t know. I was also sixteen and stupid and insecure, and I just wanted to make you happy. I didn’t think about what I wanted.” She looks down at her feet. “Didn’t realize how hard it’d be.”
“Yeah, you were stupid,” Paige snaps, and when Azzi flinches, she takes a step towards her. “You really thought that I’d—what, not want you? Want to fucking break up so I could hoe around?”
“Kind of!” Azzi says, throwing her hands in the air. “Things already felt off that summer before you left—“
“Because I didn’t want to leave you!” Paige practically shouts, and she wonders briefly why they never bothered to discuss this before. “I had no idea what I was gonna do when we were so far apart, but you know what? We could have handled it. We could’ve handled a year. I wanted to handle it, if it meant we could stay together.” She takes another step closer, so they’re face-to-face now. “I thought you were bored of me or sum’, you know? I was so fucking hurt.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Azzi cries. “Obviously I wasn’t bored, Paige, or I wouldn’t have jumped your fucking bones the minute I got to school.”
“And obviously I didn’t wanna be single or I wouldn’t have let you!”
Silence washes over them, and Paige is sure she could hear a pin drop, almost as sure as she is that their teammates are thoroughly listening to this argument outside the door. But she doesn’t care. Not when she’s looking close-up at the girl she’s loved forever and seeing her for the first time in almost two years—inches apart without hidden hurt or secret regrets tucked between them.
They’re both breathing heavy, both affected by everything they’ve just said and everything that still needs to be said but it’s not a surprise that they hold each other’s gazes, both too stubborn to be the first to look away.
And when the eye contact becomes too much for Paige to bear, she decides she will not chicken out, will not let her trepidations hold her back this time. And she leans forward and kisses her.
They’ve kissed—a million times, probably. Maybe more. At this point, they’ve learned each other down to the last breath, the last hair on their heads. They know exactly where to put their hands, exactly how to tell what the other is feeling based off the way they move their lips, exactly what things to say in between kisses. But despite all that, this—this feels brand new. Gentle, and tentative, but excited, too, like they know it’s the mark of something different. Something better.
———————————-
A week later, when Paige appears at her doorstep with a nervous little smile and flowers to take her on their second-first date, Paige asks her about the ‘lame girly song’ she’d been playing on repeat. Azzi tells her the song is not, in fact, lame, and is actually really quite good. She doesn’t admit that she can’t listen to it anymore.
(And, because I know you’re all wondering—yes, the makeup sex was as good as Azzi’d hoped.)
#lilah’s works#this is so stupid#but i kinda love it#this was so fun to writeeee#can’t wait to write the smut scene 😈#hope yall like#pazzi#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#pazzi fics
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not really a modern au but more like a weird future timeline thing where beach hermit maglor Hibernates™ all through the 2nd and 3rd ages & misses the last boats to Valinor.... thus resulting in him skulking about history until he ends up living among modern day humans haha?? the kicker is that he one day finds an abandoned baby thats all-too-suspiciously like a certain dead brother and becomes a single dad-younger brother-adopted guardian person...
i wrote a few pages of this back in 2022 but never really thought abt it further after i started posting less frequently hahaha.... heres just some feel good domestic sketches of this AU bc i miss drawing modern clothes 🤭 i have sooo many thoughts about it that i couldnt fit into these doodles !! its quite a lot of yapping so feel free to skip past the cut haha
assorted au thoughts:
i planned for maglor to eventually find all 6 of his brothers one by one through the power of Accidental Child Acquisition ✨ example: he'd spot a kid lurking around some woods near his home and eventually realise said wild child living amongst stray dogs is a bit too similar to celegorm
i just couldnt fit in the time to draw that this round... maybe next time!
though he's raising reincarnated-Maedhros, i think it makes more sense for him to give him a modern name and not explicitly call him Nelyo/Maitimo/Russandol just bc he'd not want to get his own hopes up or shove said identity onto the kid
(the occasional 'hey Nelyo' does slip out by accident from time to time however)
i think as Mae-the-kid grows up he will in time start to remember bits and pieces of his original identity? with the nicer familial things (like valinor, his brothers, feanor and nerdanel) first, and then the darker things (kinslayings, angband, war) once he's grown up that Maglor will struggle explaining or even helping him through
i promise this is a wholesome au 😭
side characters include a high-strung but good guy policeman named Officer Borden who's very suspicious of Maglor bc of all the random kids he keeps adopting.... and his younger brother Farren, who happens to be Maglor's scholarly coworker
as well as Maglor's next door neighbour Morgan, a witch-woman married to some guy named Hugh... she's got 3 kids who visit from time to time but from what Maglor's heard, the oldest son is followed by misfortune and has supposedly never met his youngest sister...?
credit to Ted Nasmith and Cartoon Network for some assets used in the doodles :D
#silmarillion#maglor#maedhros#silm#modern silmarillion#feanorians#look if the feanorians arent getting reembodied i think itd be neat if they could join Maglor back in the real world in some other way#im no biologist or evolutionist so pls take Mags' ear shrinking over the millennia with a grain of salt#i just think exceptions can be made since he'd be like. a billion years old and probably not of the same biological composition as us hahah#maglors coworkers thinks hes retro and fashionable on purpose but hes just been wearing some of his clothes for 40 odd years#after centuries of eating fish on a beach he discovered instant noodles and hasnt turned back since#can you guess who's who among the side characters? :D#noldor#silm art#silmarillion comic#sketch dump#sakasakart#the silmarillion#elves#modern au#maglors single dad arc#accidental baby acquisition
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i shifted last night for the first time in 2 years. . .
MOVED TO @kodtheshiftinggodd !
📌 — QUICK RUNDOWN OF MY SHIFTING JOURNEY
umm so i started on shifttok ( unfortunately) back in like november of 2021, i was shifting to naruto. during like 2021-2022 i had experienced a lot of shifts, ranging from weird realities i didn’t plan on going to, only being there for a few moments, not realizing i was there even though i was there for over an hour, and literally shifting while doing dishes. 🧍
sometime in like the summer of 2022 i stopped shifting doing to being in a relationship with this really cringy dude… who like thought i would disappear out of thin air… if i shifted… ( and some shifttok drama that i got brought into, that’s a whole other story if you wanna hear that, the rundown is i got randomly outcasted bc i had BPD and autistic traits ( literally what they said ) ) yeah not my finer moment. anyways, i also just lost a lot of motivation for it. i still hated this reality but i don’t know, shifting just, idk. it took me just a few months ago to realize that the shifttok mean girls who outcasted me, made me feel like i didn’t deserve to shift in some way. ( when i realized that, i realized how fucking stupid that was )
and so i’ve been really reevaluating my journey, spent a lot of time of shiftblr instead of shifttok, even started my own discord to get rid of misinfo!!! which by the way shiftblr has helped me change my mindset SO MUCH! like i’ve been literally a ghost on here but i adore ya’ll so much !!and basically i feel really confident about shifting. i’ve shifted every time i tried, even though it was a very short shift, i have been practicing manifestation, LOA, & meditation and yeah here we are !
🐇 — THE SHIFT ITSELF
so i read something last night on shiftblr, it’ll be linked here, i already was/am in the mindset of “if i try to shift i’m going to fucking shift” like it doesn’t matter to me anymore, i’m doing it. instead of trying every night, i’ve been focused on trying on weekends when i have no responsibilities and such. though throughout this week i have been practicing my meditation/reaching the void state. SO i saw that post and honestly… i wasn’t really like looking to shift, it was a very impromptu thing. i put on a subliminal [ the one i used ] and i went to bed. i was thinking about one my alt realities a better cr though i hate the term better cr where i live in Oregon, and I am a tattoo apprentice, Levi Ackerman from AOT is the one I am apprenticing for. this is really based on me learning how to tattoo and not having to spend time with the AOT cast while also fighting titans and save the world. while that is great, I wanted something chill SO YEAH. I fell asleep to thinking about that… and I shifted. not to that reality but a weird parallel/version of it?
I did this with my first ever shift too. it was almost like a dreamlike reality, but only subtly. soooo I did reality checks.. and it for sure wasn’t a dream. I lived in the apartment above the shop ( which isn’t what i scripted ) and I went down and just went to work with Levi, Hange, and Zeke. I was really on edge though, like “omg i shifted” “i’m literally talking to Levi wtf” like i had no time to process or ground myself so i ended up coming back. but yeah. that’s what happened and i’m determined to get to this ALT reality. ( not in a rushed way, but a ‘i know im going to get there soon’ way )
anyways, that’s my first ever shiftblr post ahhh xxxx
creds to @jolynesmom for their post that i found
ALSO ANY TIPS WILL BE WONDERFUL, i’m literally always looking for things to improve my journey <3 or new things to try at least
happy shifting <3
#shiftblr#success story#shifting motivation#permashifting#reality shifting#shifting tips#shifting community#shiftinconsciousness#shifting blog#shifting antis dni#attack on titan shifter#shifting to aot#shifting methods#aot shifting#law of assumption#manifestation tips#kod’s shifting diaries
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🩷🩵🤍 5 Days Until my Surgery 🤍🩵🩷
(Picture taken September 1, 2022)
I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I'm obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️⚧️ So see part 6 below the cut.
Part 1 here
Me and my partner got back together and got a place together and we still live in this apartment together 🥰 I also worked at worked at a local amusement park over the summer that had some fun but mostly was horrible due to angry customers that kept misgendering me and kids making fun of me 🙃 But also I'll say I had one of my most euphoric moment when this little girl pointed to her winged eyeliner and said "you're just like me!" Bc I also had winged eyeliner at the time 🥰
(Picture taken June 6th, 2022)
Also, if the last Era was the peak of my egirl era on twitter than this was the fall of my egirl era 📉
I remember reaching 10k followers and thinking "ok I have enough of a following to try to make money off this." It's what a lot of egirls on there did and as I stated above, I hated my job. I thought briefly about streaming and YouTube but I don't really have the personality for streaming and was too self-conscious of my voice to do YouTube. And there were a lot of sex workers on twitter that I knew, followed, and admired. And there was quite the market for trans sexual content. Also I wanted to basically be paid to look pretty all day 🤷♀️ So, I made a OnlyFans account and started promoting it.
(Picture taken May 9th, 2022)
And I quickly got shadow banned for it 😂 And frankly, I wasn't really meant for sex work. I'm not really a sexual person. I do enjoy sexual acts but doing them for money killed my drive for it. I made a few hundred dollars but I didn't make enough content for it to keep it up.
Also, the shadow banned revealed how unhealthy my relationship with Twitter was. My self worth would be highly dependent on how well my posts did that day (I was still posting pictures daily). And I was hypercritical of my picture quality and my physical features. And developed a bad habit of comparing myself to girls I considered prettier than me. And with the constant misgendering from work, I was at a big low 🥲
(Picture taken September 17th, 2022)
I remember this was when there was first talk about Elon buying Twitter and I was looking for an alternative and well... ended up here.
(Picture taken June 2nd, 2022)
I remember the idea between this pic was clothes and accessories that weren't explicitly queer but gave queer vibes.
Also talking about queerness, I also participated in a Drag Show! I played a mushroom fairy!
(Picture taken August 13th, 2022)
It was organized by this local queer nonprofit that did a lot in the community and was already a big part of my life but would become a bigger part of my life.
Also this was when I was done with the curly girl method. And I like how my hair looks like this and it's easier 🤷♀️
(Picture taken September 4th, 2022)
Also love how often I get used out of this mushroom beret 😁🍄😁 (which is why I have 2 pics with it on this post lol)
Also an update on my love life at this time. I at one point had 4 partners very briefly and was part of a polycule over over 22 people. I remember one of my metamours made a chart showing all the relationships and it was complicated 😅 Also it was mostly online. Like 2 of my partners were long distance relationships.
(Picture taken Oct 2nd, 2022)
Around my 23rd birthday, I decided to do what was best for my mental health and quit twitter. But I had two last pictures because I got them from some followers who bought me things from my Amazon wishlist I made for my birthday.
(Picture taken October 29, 2022)
This one would be useful for the next era. And you can see a small part of my large collection of plushies (which I have a project in mind for 👀)
(Picture taken on November 8th, 2022)
And this was the last picture I posted on Twitter before quitting at 36k followers. I had already stopped posting on it for awhile so you can imagine my surprise when I got a big pink teddy bear 😱 And for all the work I put into that account, I consider this a pretty good prize 🧸💕
I consider Tumblr my last attempt with having a healthy relationship with social media. If this account goes away, I'll probably be done with Social Media 🤷♀️ I think I'm getting better at breaking those bad habits I developed on Twitter while still trying to enjoy the art of dressing up and taking selfies. But, I don't know if I'll ever have the drive for it like I did during my twitter days.
With my summer job ending and twitter as a way to make a living out of the window you may be concerned with how I recovered but I got really lucky and I'll go into detail on that tomorrow 😁
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Plz share wag/hab Carlo, TP Carlos, RB Carlos with the class plz
i was only going to share a few bits bc they're all very messy wips, but i talk too much, so... (please talk carcar with me tho, i will always welcome it)
WAG/HAB carlos
the longest of my wips, with the longest timeline (starts in 2021...)
super self-indulgent. they get together relatively early in the timeline, and then spend the rest of it being disgustingly in love.
carlos sees first oscar first. there's a f2 quali in the same city as his tournament, so he goes. he switched his career and started playing golf professionally a little later than most, but he's raced his whole life. it's in his blood. he knows when he's looking at a great driver on the track. so he stays through the session and ends up seeing oscar piastri take his helmet, and then his balaclava off. his hair poofs about his head, and carlos is sold. he is endeared, charmed. he thinks that he'd like to see more of this young man.
they meet some race weekends later in barcelona. carlos has now been to a few of oscar's races, has cheered for him even. oscar doesn't recognise him — he isn't a fan of golf, after all. oscar is still riding the high of a good race and a new trophy to his name. it's the endorphins and the adrenaline rushing through him that makes him more outwardly happy than he'd otherwise be. it's also why he doesn't shy away when a handsome stranger congratulates him for a brilliant drive.
“I just think you’re brilliant,” he says, with his big brown doe eyes and plush lips pulled into a smile. Like he means it. Oscar doesn’t know what to do with that. He continues earnestly, “I believe that you’re going great places. That you’ll be a Formula One World Champion someday.”
Oscar laughs. “Yeah? You know a lot of World Champions?”
The outrageously handsome man smiles wider, looking even more outrageously handsome. Oscar wants to file a complaint to God himself for sculpting him. “You could say that I know enough World Champions quite well.”
they get together in early 2022... oscar becomes a test driver... carlos climbs the world ranks... summer breaks and off-seasons are spent together... carlos teaches oscar how to play golf... racing each other in the sainzes's estate... oscar moves to monaco and takes carlos with him...
while oscar is a test/reserve driver, carlos still visits the track, but doesn't linger in the alpine hospitality. instead, he bothers his only close friend there — max. max, of course, finds it all to be hilarious. (“I don’t think I’ve seen you so often since you quit,” Max observes one day as he enters his room to find Carlos laid on his sofa. “Do you just miss me or do you get too lonely when loverboy is busy?”)
the wag/hab part comes after oscar is signed to mclaren and suddenly there are more cameras on him and his entourage. carlos can be often found around the mclaren hospitality or garage, and it's always a treat when the cameras zoom in on him. he's also not shy about posting on his socials when he's with oscar, not shy about sharing oscar's post-race posts either.
tl;dr: au where carlos is a pro golfer, and oscar is the same. in 2024, oscar is a race winner and carlos is an olympic athlete and also oscar's gorgeous friend who's always in the paddocks. all sorts of worlds are colliding, and those with the eyes to see are Looking.
TP carlos
short and sweet (hopefully?)
au in which carlos comes out of a retirement no one was really expecting (least of all himself) to join his old team as their team principal.
oscar is new to the grid. he'd signed literally just before carlos was kicked, so they haven't intersected yet, not really.
so oscar doesn't know what to think of their new tp, who's just a bit too young and too handsome and too there.
Oscar doesn’t know what to make of Carlos Sainz. He knows him, of course. He knows every Formula One winner in the last few years, and even before then. He’s seen Sainz on magazines, on the television, on his phone, and even on Lando’s. Carlos Sainz is a familiar figure to anyone who’s touched Formula One racing in the last half decade. But that’s Carlos Sainz, the handsome Ferrari driver.
This is Carlos Sainz, McLaren’s new TP and test driver. It is an absurd situation, but everyone in the team is seemingly happy to have him around. It makes it exceedingly obvious, how young Oscar is, and how new he is to this space.
carlos is a very hands on tp who values driver input in every step of the process. he's also already rather familiar with oscar's teammate. this means a lot of meetings, phonecalls, and late night meetings with room service...
RB carlos
essentially, an au where things are just slightly different.
in which carlos grits his teeth and sticks through toro rosso until a rb promotion.
oscar signs with mclaren. that same year, carlos sainz, jr. becomes the 2023 wdc, the second spanish driver to do so in the history of the sport.
more or less a character study (?) of how it'd be if carlos stuck with rb despite everything. in this au, he's less friendly with the other drivers, more serious (not that he isn't already hh), and just generally a little exhausted all the time. his two closest friends are max and charles, and spends time with other drivers through their association only.
oscar piastri, however, is not the bright-eyed rookie carlos had been expecting. there is Something about him, and suddenly carlos is interested in someone outside his racecar, outside his very tight circle. carlos is so intrigued and so charmed. oscar is reserved, subdued, quiet. but there's a sharpness in him, a harshness that comes out only, it seems, when carlos rubs him the wrong way on track. it makes carlos wants to peel away his layers, see who he is beneath the pr training and the papaya fireproofs. maybe even beneath those.
oscar doesn't really like sainz. he knows he's spanish racing royalty and lando has put him on this pedestal as one of the greatest drivers ever, but he's just... a boring bloke. a vicious driver, sure. handsome with a nice smile, but rarely with anything behind it. serious. a little sad. he's winning races — and ruining oscar's, while he's at it — so really, if anyone should be upset, it should be oscar and not mr perfect.
max — along with charles and lando — is of the belief that they could be good together. meddling ensues.
tl;dr: carlos and oscar Noticing each other, but not doing anything about it until their friends catch on.
#carcar#5581#askbox#wip#fic#i spend more time thinking about these wips than actually working on them lmfao#as i was answering this ask i literally started an alpha/alpha wip please send help
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feeling incredibly averse to posting this but i'm just gonna drop my kofi link here in case anyone wants to help me get out of my increasingly shitty situation living with my parents
more info below ig
after having given my parents nearly $100k over the last four years, i'd love to be able to actually leave. my future job situation is still up in the air (i've submitted for about a dozen positions and the only one i've heard back from and interviewed for hasn't gotten back to me yet), and i haven't been able to build up any savings because, again, i was (and still am) helping my family afford rent and bills, and probably the taxes my parents are behind on, but if i think about that, i'll get too angry. no joke, i've given my family, at the bare minimum, 85% of my income over the last 4 years. the rest of it has gone toward medical stuff and, now, my car
at this point, with the combo of my mom refusing to lower her standards and my dad's seeming refusal to hunt for a new full time job, i don't see how they won't continue to bleed me dry. my dad even has a bad habit of taking money out of my old savings account that he's a joint owner on or whatever from when i got it set up when i was 16, even when i stopped actively putting money in it, so now any time it gets its automated $1 transfer from my checking account, he'll just take that $1 without consulting me. i'm not exaggerating, even if it has $1-2 in it, it'll be gone within a week
i've even put off starting on testosterone because of this. i wanted to start it like 3 years ago, but kept putting it off because of money issues and wanting to save as much as possible. i got really close to actually starting it this year, but because of how messy everything is, i put it off again bc having one more thing on my plate, especially when my parents are already weird about me being trans, was not something i wanted to deal with
not to mention, we're still currently not living under a lease in our house that we're, as far as i'm aware, still tens of thousands of dollars behind in rent on (again, my dad refuses to disclose our financial position honestly with any of us) and it's developed many, many issues bc the landlord, even before we were behind on rent, is shit and refuses to actually fix anything. and my dad loves to just ignore things unless we beg him to do something
i'd love to be on my own (in the, much more affordable, midwest) by the end of summer. i by no means want to rely on donations and i have other avenues i'm working with to make money (i still have my current full time job, but i'm going through my old belongings and selling a lot online), but i'll take any help i can get atp because i'm truly at my wits end. i'd start doing art commissions again if i could, but doing that from 2020-2022, partially on top of my full time job, absolutely wrecked my right hand and i'm still in enough pain that i can't make it a regular activity
idk how much else there is to say. there's more i could say but... i don't really wanna air all my dirty laundry here. i'm miserable in so many ways and it's just become increasingly clear that my dad expects me to constantly cover his ass. my younger brother gives money too, but he manages to go on big cross-country and overseas trips with friends, so i think i've been stuck with the burden of giving the most money. there's so many more things going on in the world rn and everyone is stretched thin so i don't expect much, or anything, but. idk. might as well throw it out there, right?
i’ve also since taken down the gfm i set up last year when we got our first eviction notice bc, while we still need the money, i don’t feel right keeping it up for multiple reasons, including “i don’t want to give any of that money to my family” and it feels too… serious to keep it up when i could just throw out my kofi instead
i just want to make sure i have some sort of safety net to catch me if i move before anything job-wise is finalized. i need to be able to afford a place to live for at least a month so i can job-search while physically being in the area i wanna move to, which would ultimately make it easier for me to find a job at all. i'm working on being more firm with giving less money so i can actually have the means to move and be safe and comfortable, but... that never lasts long in this house
anyway. that's it, i guess. thanks for reading
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aapi heritage month headcanons pt. 3 !!!
just in time for s3 of dndads, let’s get into it! this one will probs be a lot but so much has happened in the past year 😭
- taylor LOVES chinese new year, he looks forward to it every year as the favorite (only) child and he eats all the dumplings he could ever eat and gets tons of red envelopes
- cassandra and morgan become best friends/mother-daughter relationship vibes post-doodler, like they are the most badass and cool women in the world and i do think taylor grows to love morgan so much and even though his relationships with nick/glenn are strained, at least he has the best mom and grandma
- as a voice actor for anime/cartoons i think cassandra really did fall in love w the art of anime and i’d love for her to guest at a con (make her the j michael tatum of her world PLEASE) and taylor gets a free ticket to weeb out as much as he wants <3
- in my heart glenn is trying his best, like he really wants that closeness (haha) and i think now post-doodler it's like literally what started as a father/son duo of him and nick now is genuinely a huge (kinda fucked up) family that is trying to mend itself and i do think it starts with chinese takeout !!!
- sidenote i think the close/foster/swifts etc are a great example of how freddie has subverted asian stereotypes fr and also how a family stuck in an absent/neglectful cycle has the ability to come together again
- the mending includes hermie too, hermie definitely deserves something more in his life and the chance get to be a kid w a home in the form of a big family w his bio dads (his normal parents are invited too) (and i also love the idea of normal being like 'grandpa henry! this is the guy!' and hermie being an honorary oak would be so cute 😭)
- hermie went and saw joy ride (2023) bc it was marketed as a comedy and came out bawling his eyes out from that one scene y’all adoptees know what im talking about
- tbh thinking about taylor's closeness w his mom and francis's w kimon wan literally asian moms are holding this show together
- the farnsworth’s are thai and german and they came to peachyville at a young age to give their newborn son a better life very starting nuclear family vibes, ed definitely learned thai for her, and now their son is a bowling champ!
- francis farnsworth and taylor swift are lowkey the spectrum of asian upbringing where it's like midwest asians vs socal asians 😳🤭 they live in different worlds
- kimon wan is an immigrant mom just trying to raise her family and her damn son wont stop being a loser 🤦♀️ literally milf w a shotgun (ed is a lucky man FR) (sorry anthony burch)
- when francis is having a really tough day then kimon wan will leave a plate of cut up fruit at his door so he knows he's still supported
- luo's golden wok is the first and only chinese restaurant in peachyville and they have to have the best pepper steak ever im calling it now
- tony collette would love and hate both jodie and glenn i think for different reasons but instead of calling them formosans he’d call them orientals 💀
- also tony collette is 0.0001% asian (chinese) and tyrus luo either DEFINITELY knows which is why he puts up w all the bullshit tony does or tony is determined to make sure that tyrus NEVER finds out ever
- they have a 'throwback' silent movie night at the drive-in and they show a meryl streep film and literally everyone falls in love w him 🥰
- billion millions was a crazy rich asian and he was an icon
- once again they mean the world to me! might end up posting more at some point who knows lol
-
checkout past headcanons: 2022! 2023!
#dungeons and daddies#dndads#taylor swift dndads#hermie the unworthy#normal oak#francis farnsworth#tony collette#cassandra swift#glenn close#kimon wan farnsworth#nick close#billion millions dndads#morgan freeman dndads#jodie foster dndads#meryl streep dndads#dndads s2#dndads s3#tyrus luo#aapi heritage month#aapi writer#all the asian ppl in one place#do i also post my aapi homestuck hc’s here or do i do that on the sideblog LMAO#once again i’m korean pls don’t come for me too hard 😭
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Hi shrimp! I love your art 🥹 I started following you in around 2022 from your suntan art, and I literally got into portal because of you ❤️ A little bit heartbroken that your comms closed since I literally just made a PayPal account so I could get one 😭 Just wanted to ask if you've ever drawn a genderbent version of Chell before since I thought I remembered seeing one from you but maybe I'm crazy lol.
HIIII omg youve been here since the good ol suntan days… tysm for sticking around! 😭💖also gahh im sorry i had to take less slots in december due to how busy i was, but I’m (hopefully) reopening them at the end of this month! I can message you once they’re open again if you’d like! <3
As for your question, i have doodled him a couple times but I don’t think ive posted them online bc i didn’t rly like the result, tho i plan to draw him more properly in the future. I love chell i love chell i love chell (i will also draw more wheatney ((fem!wheat)) bc i want to redesign her a little bit AAA)
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back in 2022-23 when i was really mentally ill and lowkey agoraphobic and most importantly EXTREMELY FUCKING BORED. i made a venttwt account/shtwt adjacent account with a fake identity (who did end up being based on an alter lmfao but it was very much a Fake Person for the most part) (i was echo/eli i used he/they/bat pronouns and i was 20) (i was 19-20 at the time irl but i aged myself up bc it felt less weird and so teenagers could avoid me if they wanted since i was like a month from being 20 when i started the account lol) and i went btwn complaining abt my actual life and just making shit up for fun And it kept me entertained for ages. and eventually i was getting too much edtwt and like graphic sh on my dash or whatever its called there and i was like man i dont want to be seeing this its not fun anymore so i deleted my account. But BEFORE I DID THAT. i made a post like “yeah i’m bi gay LOL” bc a lot of my followers were anti mspec gays And i lost 6 followers btwn posting that and deactivating (i had 120 but a lot were inactive). so. there’s some lore for u i guess. Also good morning and stuff
#text#also idk why im bringing up the system thing so much sorry usually im not nearly as open about it#i have a blog for this (@meteoritesystem tap in)#but alas. hello 6000ish tumblr followers. Heres some lore i dont even share with my best friends#sh mention#ed mention#personal
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Hi just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to thoughtfully respond to these anon messages. I work in dc w a fairly wonky set and i cant overstate how haunted the DC Professional Thought Havers are by the spectre of the "low propensity voter." I think these ppl (myself included LOL) thought we had everything figured out ahead of the 2016 elections and then never recovered from the way it ended up going......i feel like in all the years that followed.....the liberal bubbles.....the coastal elites.......the hillbilly elegies......the real america....the ohio diners....the pennsylvania diners.......the polls......the 2020 horserace....while part of an earnest attempt to understand What Happened, were primarily self-indulgent, self-flagellation for being "out of touch" bc of a self-diagnosed "elite" status that then turned into ANOTHER myopic view of the world, just opposite, where the "libs" are hapless and everyone else remotely to the left are primarily victims to the unstoppable supernatural forces of the Right. Then in 2020 the narrative flipped AGAIN and once again, instead of taking the opportunity to expand a worldview and having the bravery to confront their own shortcomings, the opinion havers and wonks and beltway pressers have decided to groupthink their way into writing off democracy altogether. Its BEYOND frustrating to see! Like damn volunteer at a soup kitchen or smthn instead of being obsessed w the fact that i vote lol
Yes, and there are several reasons for that. First, despite all the factors that contributed to Trump's shock win in 2016 (anti-Clintonism, white backlash to Obama, general low voter enthusiasm, Russian disinformation, etc) we should never forget that until James Comey decided to announce 10 days before the election that he was reopening the EEEEEEEMAILS case, even though we all knew there was nothing there, she was leading fairly comfortably in the polls. And while we will never know how the 2016 election would have gone without that, which imho was one of the most unforgivable acts of blatant sabotage by a public official in American history, it's also true that we saw her poll averages start sliding almost in real time, as people who hadn't really been keen on voting for her anyway decided firmly not to and Trump was able to scrape out 16,000 votes across PA, MI, and WI to take the Electoral College. Which... we all remember how we felt that night, right? (Or in my case, early morning, since I was overseas?) We don't, we really, really don't want to feel that way again. Just saying.
As such, the media (which had already beat up Clinton nonstop during the BUT HER EEEEEMAILS saga) drastically overcorrected and as you say, began writing endless angsty handwringing pieces about Trump Voters in Rural Ohio Diners and giving endless sympathetic airtime to how "economically left behind" they felt, regardless of the fact that open racism, especially Obama backlash, was and remains the principal animating feature of Republican politics (since their only economic platform is that which makes very rich people even richer and Democratic economic policies are the only ones actually targeted at helping ordinary people). The hangover was so strong that even when Democrats had a massive 2018 midterm result and flipped the House blue for the first time since the post-ACA backlash lost it in 2010, the Conventional Wisdom was now beyond any doubt that Democrats were doomed for a generation or something, and not that Trump had squeaked out a fluky win (while losing the popular vote) due to endless Russian/Comey/third party-etc interference and wasn't actually that powerful. Even in 2020 when Biden was leading fairly steadily and things were going to hell with Covid, etc. etc. TRUMP IS UNSTOPPABLE, TRUMP IS GOING TO WIN.
(And now. Like. I know Trump thinks Trump won in 2020, as do a large majority of his cultists, but that doesn't mean he did.)
Even after that, when Roe went down in 2022, that made no difference to the RED WAVE COMING!!! narrative, and the amount of smug white male pundits insisting that abortion just wasn't very important and people weren't going to base their entire vote on it reached truly disgusting levels. We're now seeing the same thing with the constant "people won't vote for democracy and/or abortion rights" blast, when as you say, this narrative has just been completely made the fuck up by a lot of groupthinking DC media who are determined that this time, Trump really is going to win and then they get to be principled chroniclers in opposition or something. Not to mention, the basic principle of "democracy and abortion rights are good" do in fact win by thumping margins every time they're on the ballot, including in deep red states. But there is literally not a single piece of empirical evidence despite the massive amounts of it supporting the truth (i.e. that Democrats are doing historically well in competitive elections since 2018 and there's not really a major reason to think this will change in 2024) that will get the media to change the "Democrats in disarray and Biden Iz Doomed" horserace BS they so love. They don't like Biden because he's boring and competent and just does the job without being insane, because it's totally a great idea to treat American government like a reality show! (Recall the infamous comment by the CBS CEO who literally said that Trump was bad for America but great for CBS, because he pulled in high ratings and therefore lots of money and visibility for CBS. We live in the worst timeline.)
As such, the mainstream media has a vendetta against Biden, is determined that this time Trump is super definitely going to win and everyone will see how genius they are, and not-so-secretly wants Trump back because a) he's good for money and ratings, and b) because the media conglomerations are owned by oligarchs who have a vested interest in making sure that Democrats and their policies never get too popular. Notice how the once self-proclaimed centrist independent Elon Musk has turned into a rabidly alt-right fanboy ever since the Democrats really got serious about taxing billionaires as a key part of their platform. Likewise, insisting that Biden Iz Doomed makes Democrats nervous (and thus more likely to tune in) and Republicans gleeful (and thus more likely to tune in), so there's literally no incentive for the media to even try to report things accurately. You could create a very different narrative of the 2024 election if you just remotely bothered to write about things that have actually happened as they have actually taken place, rather than bending over backward to insist that Biden being four years older than Trump is a worse crime than 91 felony indictments, 2 impeachments, 1 insurrection, 450 million dollars and counting in punitive jury verdicts, more major criminal trials coming down the pipe, and just demonstrably being the worst human being alive in so many ways. I mean. Wow.
The good news, as I said in my other post, is that when people actually vote, these utter bullshit narratives get routinely blown out of the water, and that's a good thing. Because it turns out that unlike Super Smart Beltway Pundits' Super Smart Predictions, the average American does actually like democracy and freedom for women to make their own personal healthcare decisions, and they vote accordingly. So while yes, it's being made harrowingly much harder than it needs to be because of how much the media simply refuses to report that basic fact, and there is no amount of evidence that will convince them otherwise, at least we're trending in the right direction and, if we all pull our weight, can do it one more time. I realized the other day that I hadn't heard a fucking peep about Ron DeSantis in the last two months, and oh, how glorious it was. I yearn beyond words for the day (God willing, soon) when the same is true of Trump as well.
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2024 writing round up
i saw it on my dash and wanted to do it! tagging: @blackjackkent, @theshirallen, @dreadfutures, @theluckywizard, @ anyone else who would care to do this!
words posted: Not counting Tumblr RP or I'd be here forever, 76,581. 35,245 of those were Var Shiral'vhen.
additional words written: 21,585 on VS, plus some other WIPs means I have typed about 33,109 words. There are more in my notebook (but probably not a significant amount).
grand total of words: About 109,690 words! <3
fandoms: Dragon Age, HotD, BG3
highest kudos: 187 on The Queen's Pleasure, making it the first fic I ever posted to break 100 kudos.
highest hit oneshot: 2667 on The Queen's Pleasure.
new things I tried:
New fandoms! BG3 got me back into writing for fun before DA reassumed its throne, and I published HotD for the first time, too!
Smut! I published five smut fics on AO3, one on Tumblr, and another that will probably not make it out of the docs I'm gonna be real.
Long fic! Technically I've tried before, but writing Var Shiral'vhen with @theshirallen has been a pretty new experience as someone who mostly writes oneshots. It's been fun, though!
fic I spent the most time on: Var Shiral'vhen on the basis of it being a long fic. For one shots, probably The means by which art is made due it being my first attempt at Solian smut and that ship being very dear to me (and it was originally started back in like 2022).
fic I spent the least time on: I wrote Stronger Where it Breaks (Veilguard spoilers) after I beat DA4 in a short space of time. They will learn was also written similarly quickly.
favorite thing I wrote: I'm going to list multiple answers bc I deserve it.
I think it might be the unpublished Var Shiral'vhen chapter "Rift test take 2" just because I adore the Solas/Ian conversation in that chapter. It really encapsulates what I find fascinating about their dynamic, put them in a room together and they will start vibing even when I wasn't planning on it.
(Veilguard spoilers in the link) They will learn, a fic I mostly wrote for Joly but ended up getting more attention than I expected on Tumblr! I really enjoyed working with Elvhenan worldbuilding and I'm looking forward to doing more with the OCs I started crafting for the purposes of the fic.
(Veilguard spoilers in the link) The shape of you, a really abstract fic that's sex but also isn't sex. It was more a picture than words in my head so writing it down was difficult, but I enjoyed how it turned out esp since I didn't spend too long on it (it was like two sessions of writing).
favorite thing(s) I read:
(Veilguard spoilers in the link) keep my body from the fire (Solas x Felassan) by Almalexiasgf. I loved the depiction of Solas's [redacted] and Felassan's handling of it. It captured everything I love about the new lore surrounding the elves in DA4.
deus proditus (dame aylin & ketheric thorm) by @darethshirl. Such a neat exploration of these characters and their hostile relationship to each other, their love of Isobel, divinity/mortality. Highly recommended!
The History in our Skin (nb!lavellan & keeper deshanna) by @theshirallen. You were a fool if you thought I wouldn't include Joly in this. I love the pain and the peace in this, the impossible choice Deshanna saddles Ian (still a child but in choosing becomes grown) with. "There is no right answer" but only because the world is hostile to everything they are.
it ends, or it doesn't (felassan & an ensemble cast) by @dreadfutures I'm still making my way through this one (VG put a huge dent in my reading habit I carefully built over 2024 lmao) but I love Blue's Felassan POV and the worldbuilding they do for the Dalish/ancient elves. It's so inspiring, and the mystery is so good.
Mien'Harel (solas/felassan, solas & ensemble) by @bodysnatch3r Again, making my way through it, but Matty has such a great use of language and the worldbuilding is so good. I'm going to have my heart broken (more) when I continue I'm sure, but I'd highly recommend checking this one out.
these violent delights (Zevran x f!Tabris, Lucanis & Zev/Warden - Rated T) by @inquisimer. I love love love the Zev/Tabris pairing in this, and the playing off Lucanis is also excellent. I'd highly recommend it for its intrigue and character dynamics!!!
writing goals for 2025:
Continue Var Shiral'vhen
Not burn myself out on exchanges
Try to satisfy the need for engagement w/ more realistic means
Stop comparing myself/my headcanons/my divergences to others
new works: It was only after listing them that I realised I was supposed to just say how many, but I wrote it so it's here now. Anyway. 13!
Var Shiral'vhen (Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan - Rated M) An adaptation of Solas and Ian's love story as well as Thora's journey as Inquisitor. About finding love in impossible places, undoing the damage the world has done to you, building trust from the ashes of other people's fires.
They will learn (Solas & Original Elvhen Character- Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. The world is new, and so are the people. Solas meets a new invention and sees the beauty and horror of creation.
The shape of you (Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan- Rated E) Veilguard spoilers. Solas asks Ian a difficult question that Ian has no trouble answering.
Five, Seven, Five (Solas & F!Cadash - Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. Set in Inquisition. After a visit to Cadash thaig, Thora is inspired to write poetry after a lifetime of reading it. She shares it with Solas, as she shares everything with Solas.
Stronger Where it Breaks ( Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan- Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. On Ian's suggestions, Solas takes up journaling to deal with some of his issues.
Pawn Takes King ( Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan - Rated E) Technically Veilguard spoilers for the game's hub/home location. After a game of chess results in a rare victory, Ian claims his spoils.
The means by which art is made ( Solas x Nonbinary Lavellan! - Rated E) After Solas discloses his preference for bottoming, Ian tops him for the first time. It is not a night without its setbacks.
In Defense of Spirits (N/A - Rated G) A meta about the spirits of DA:O and how they can be read more sympathetically with the future game's lore taken into account.
The Art of Reading Aloud (Gale x F!Tav - Rated E) Ophelia (Tav) gives Gale a blowjob while he explains the history of the Moonshae Isles to her.
A Study of Hands (Gale x F!Tav - Rated T) An exploration of Gale's mental state throughout act I of BG3 as well as his developing feelings for Ophelia (Tav).
Chip Butty (Gale x F!Tav - Rated E) The morning after the party with her Tiefling kin, Ophelia wakes up with two headaches. One, from wine. Two, everyone expects she bedded Gale the night before.
The Queen's Pleasaure (Alicent x Rhaenyra - Rated E) When the King calls, Alicent does not linger longer than she is wanted. Her return is interrupted by a wayward princess, fresh from a foray into Flea Bottom, and hungry for companionship. Or: What if Rhaenyra had found Alicent before she found Ser Criston?
A Little Light (Jowan & Connor - Rated G) After years of young apprentices giving him a wide berth, lest they catch his talent for mediocrity, Jowan finds himself in the position of tutor to the young Connor.
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Twenty (Three!) Years of Humanistic!
Abandoned Pools' first album, Humanistic was released 23 years ago today, on September 25th, 2001! For anyone who doesn't know, Abandoned Pools is my all time favorite band! I found them through Clone High in September of 2020 and immediately connected with a LOT of their songs, and in that time, Humanistic became my all time favorite album! A spot that it still retains to this day hehe.
So when I found out that the following year, almost a year to the day from when I started listening to Abandoned Pools, was Humanistic's 20th anniversary, I knew I wanted to make something big for that occasion! I ended up making a drawing based on each song in the album! This is similar to what I did for Owl City's album Cinematic later on, which I posted last year.
This is also sort of a look at proto Let's Get Back! in a way! I made this when LGB! was still just a duo act with PB and Shep, since Rye and Pumpernickel didn't join the lineup until I was about halfway through the project, and the band wasn't officially named Let's Get Back! until February of 2022 lol. The cover image here is based on the actual album cover for Humanistic, and I edited later to say "Covers by Let's Get Back!" to make it consistent with the rest of my LGB! art :3
Each piece in the series is below the cut along with the song they're connected to and some explanation about each one. Again, these pieces are three years old at this point, so some of the art is a bit wonky looking and some of these piece I'd do differently if I were to do them today, but most of them still hold up pretty well I think! :D
1: The Remedy
I based this one on the line “save your breath, your soul is hollow” and wanted to do something simplistic but still interesting! According to my friend who also likes the song, this is “exactly how that song feels” lol. It was fun working with silhouettes here, which is something I've done here and there in the time since.
2: Mercy Kiss
I decided to not actually draw them kissing bc the song says “I don’t need your mercy kiss” haha. Wanted to capture sort of a defiant attitude for this one. Posing is a little off here, and I've tweaked some minor things abt their design but overall one that I'm still pretty happy with :]
3: Start Over
I was SUPER happy with the posing on this one, I love the sense of motion it has. Basically, I wanted to express being stuck in a cycle and just wanting to go back to the way things were, which was something I was REALLY feeling at the time, but is still sort of applicable today.
4: Monster
Another one I REALLY like, with this one, I wanted to show that I can be a force to be reckoned with when standing up for myself. Or at least that’s how the song makes me feel. It’s a good rampage song too. This is another case where I really like how the pose came out. As you can also see, this is the only piece without PB since I wasn't sure how to incorporate him into this idea, but I’m sure he’s still involved somehow lol. Also this is the best song called Monster, I do not take criticism at this time.
5: Blood
Blood always feels like a sort of gloomy, spiral-y type song, so that’s what I went for. The line “we watch it burn, and we never learn, this can’t be what you’re waiting for” was really the focus for this one. A neat vibe with this one overall I think that I'm pretty happy with.
6: Suburban Muse
Suburban Muse makes me think of like, a fake sitcom town where things look normal, but things aren’t as great as they seem if you look a little closer. It even says “cue the canned applause” at one point. Also, those sort of, weird reality dreamscape neighborhood liminal space images like this where you can see where it's coming from but they just feel, off y'know
7: Sunny Day
This one is kinda weird because Sunny Day is kinda weird (though in like the best possible way, I love it). I couldn’t quite come up with a solid idea for both my OCs here, so I based them on two separate lines: “my head is inside a cloud” for PB, and “get off the bathroom floor” for Shep. In hindsight, I don't think the two separate lines approach really worked here since it feels more disjointed and not really representative of the full song, but I still like it well enough.
8: L.V.B.D.
This one was hard to come up with something for. I’ve never been super crazy abt L.V.B.D. since it feels, Very Hetero™ and I’m not about that. But it’s still sounds great and I’m definitely super glad it’s part of the album. Went for drawing Shep and PB here as little stuffed dolls, which is related to the acronym in the song’s title (which stands for Little Virgin Baby Doll) and I couldn’t think of anything better aha. I should draw plushies more often though
9: Ruin Your Life
Important: Shep and PB are only upset with upset with each other for the sake of this drawing, as I refuse to let anything bad happen between them for real. Anyways, the expressions were really fun in this one, and oh boy does this song feel very relatable over the last year or so.
10: Never
This one is very similar to Ruin Your Life for me, where it’s a sort of comforting during a dark time kind of way. Just crossing the days off hoping that things will get better soon, that’s what I went for here. The calendar is listed as 10/12 since this is the 10th song out of the 12 on the album, and the image is a reference to a previous drawing I had done of PB and Shep together :3
11: Seed
Personally, Seed is my least favorite song from the album as a whole, for similar reasons to L.V.B.D. but in a, more gross kinda way that conflicts with my ace side. The song still sounds great musically for sure. Even tho I’m not super crazy abt the song, I actually really like how this drawing came out, in fact it might be my favorite out of the whole batch, ironically enough lol. The boys are looking down into a hole from the line “there’s no more grace to fall from, there’s nowhere left to go but down” and I'm really happy with how the perspective turned out!
12: Fluorescein
Finally, Fluorescein is my favorite song of the entire album, and my favorite song in general! It’s so aggressive and loud, I love it. I decided to draw PB confronting a giant Shep bc the song makes me feel like I can take on a huge adversary and win >:] Although I do like what I chose to do here, I kinda wish I had come up with something better to represent my all time favorite song lol
So in conclusion, like I said, Humanistic is my all time favorite album and it means so much to me. Really all of AP’s work really means a lot to me, but Humanistic in particular. I found the band through watching Clone High and I am all the better for it. So thank you to Abandoned Pools for making something that I’ve gotten so much out of and I absolutely cannot wait for the sixth album coming at the end of next year!! :D
So I hope you guys liked this little trip down memory lane with me, and if you're also an enjoyer of Abandoned Pools, please let me know what you think of these and what your favorite AP songs are! I'd love to know! And if you don't listen to Abandoned Pools, I highly recommend their music if you can't tell lol. If you enjoy early 2000s alt rock sort of stuff, there's a solid chance you'll enjoy Abandoned Pools :3
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