#not gonna get into the Entire Spiel here

[soysaucevictim]

Dad's (bio-)dad got into meth and shit.

Mom's dad was an alcoholic and gambler.

Sooo, yeeeah. One of those reasons I'm a teetolaller / have some internalized straight edge tendencies. *Shrugs.*

[sepiasys]

Quality interaction that just happened

I love having a quotebook in SP XD

[clockworkcheetah]

hmm roadblock on fic

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 8/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: in which the “fake” in fake dating starts to rear its ugly head

a/n: probably the most painful thing i’ve ever written

word count: 2.2k

masterlist w/ all parts

“How was practice?”

Azzi gently stirred the mug of hot chocolate as she carefully brought it over to Paige, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

“Pretty good. Worked on our box and one defense.” Paige brought the mug to her lips but Azzi halted her, leaning over to blow on the steaming liquid first. “Careful. It’s hot.”

The younger girl took a seat on the couch, bringing Paige’s feet onto her lap. This is how their past few nights had looked like - Azzi rubbing Paige’s legs while recounting practice detail by detail, from the conditioning to the drills to the scrimmages. It was slightly exhausting giving such a complete run down of their entire three hour practice, especially since Paige tended to asked questions that seemed irrelevant, making the whole spiel last even longer, but from the way the blonde listened intently, Azzi knew that this was how she was coping.

So these days she’d found herself stopping to take notes during practice, of important things that Geno said or observations she made of their plays, so that Paige would have something interesting to hear about.

“That’s good.” Paige pressed the heel of her foot against Azzi’s thigh, sending her a soft smile. “I missed you today.”

Azzi pinched Paige’s skin, a playful grin on her face. “You just saw me yesterday.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. It gets so lonely in here. Going outside is so tiring with crutches and shit.” Paige leaned her head back, breathing hard. When Azzi didn’t respond, only comfortingly patting her leg, she took it as a sign to continue. “I can’t even hang out with the girls no more because I feel like I’m dragging everyone behind, pathetically limping and trying to catch up.” Paige was on a rant now, her pent up anger seeping through her words. “But then I can’t go out alone, cuz sometimes people will start swarming me like I’m an animal at a zoo, and I can’t even escape because of my stupid leg.”

Paige was heaving now, and she was surprised when she looked down and saw that a wet drop had fallen on the collar of her shirt. Touching her cheek with her fingertips, she’d realized that tears had started to fall. “This is so stupid,” Paige grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m getting emotional over this shit.”

“Hey.” Azzi’s voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Paige’s wounds. “It’s not stupid. I get what you mean. I tore my ACL in high school. People always talk about the obvious struggles like not being able to play and stuff, but they don’t know about all these little things that make even daily life so hard.” She gently swiped her thumb over a tear rolling down Paige’s cheek. “I might have a solution to your problems, though.”

“What?” Paige perked up, suddenly interested.

Azzi smirked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

————————

The next day, when Azzi opened the door of Paige’s apartment with the key that she’d been gifted, she came with a shiny wheelchair in tow.

She heard Paige moving around in the bathroom, so she rushed to hide the wheelchair behind the couch before the blonde could step out. The water from the faucet started running, and soon Paige limped out on her crutches.

“Oh my god, you scared me for a second,” Paige laughed.

Azzi slowly winded her arms around the older girl’s waist. “Guess what?”

Paige kissed the corner of Azzi’s mouth, trying to calm her heart that was now racing just from seeing the girl. “What?” But Azzi didn’t respond. She merely grabbed Paige’s crutches with one hand while supporting her waist with the other. She tossed them to the side, laughing at the confusion on Paige’s face.

“Are you gonna magically heal my knee?” Paige asked sarcastically, gripping into Azzi’s elbow for dear life.

“Nope. But today we’re going out, and all you’ll need is this.” Azzi slowly guided Paige to the couch, where she pointed at the wheelchair.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Yes, way.” Azzi made sure Paige was steadily holding on to the couch before jogging to retrieve the wheelchair. “When I tore my ACL I had the same issue. I felt all pent up in my room but crutches were way too big of a nuisance. So my dad surprised me with a wheelchair and he’d just take me to the park and stuff so I could get some fresh air without having to hobble everywhere.”

Paige situated herself into the wheelchair, still in disbelief at the kind gesture. She felt Azzi run her hands through her hair, collecting and bringing it back, exposing the nape of her neck for her to brush her lips against. “Ready?” she murmured against her skin.

“Fuck yes.”

————————-

Paige never thought she’d be so happy to be in a wheelchair. But here she was, being pushed by Azzi around the Storrs campus, and she’d never felt so giddy.

At first, they walked quietly, without aim. Paige would occasionally point things out and Azzi would respond with a hum. Every so often Azzi would let her fingernails lightly scratch across Paige’s shoulders, a soft reminder of her presence, and both were content.

“Oh my god, Az. There’s ice cream.” Paige turned around and gave such adorable puppy eyes that the dark haired girl could only roll her eyes affectionately and give in. When Paige started quietly chanting, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream,” Azzi shook her head, marveling at how to everyone else, Paige as a big and intimidating all star athlete, but to Azzi, she was just a dork.

“You wanna share?” Paige asked, studying the menu with the most concentration and thoughtfulness that Azzi had ever seen from her.

“Only if we get mint chip.”

“So you like toothpaste. Gotcha.”

Azzi leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You weren’t saying that last night.” The blonde immediately blushed, recalling how while they’d brushed their teeth last night, Azzi had looked so gorgeous that she couldn’t help herself but kiss her right then and there. Azzi had shrieked and pushed her off, but Paige had chuckled, pressing another toothpastey kiss to her cheek.

But Paige quickly recovered. “Well, anything tastes good when it’s on your lips.” This time it was Azzi’s turn to blush furiously.

For the rest of their “walk,” Paige focused on slurping her ice cream cone, occasionally lifting it up for Azzi to take a bit.

“You ate basically all of it,” Azzi complained once Paige had popped the last piece of cone into her mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you asking for a bite from all the way up there,” Paige mocked.

Azzi leaned over the back of the wheelchair, staring at Paige upside down. “You’re an idiot,” she’d laughed as she’d pressed her lips to Paige’s.

“Very nice,” Paige approved once they broke apart. “Like Spider-man.”

The girls heard a high-pitched squeal come from behind them, and they both turned around, surprised to see Leo barreling towards them.“That was so cute!” Paige looked down, noticing the camera in Leo’s hand. “But do you think you could redo that kiss, with everything exactly the same? My lens went out of focus so the video came out kinda blurry.”

“What?” Paige looked at Azzi to see if she was just as confused as they were, but Azzi was staring icily at Geno’s daughter, her jaw clenched and rigid.

“Uh, for the documentary?” Leo held up her camera, as if that explained everything. “Azzi, I knew I agreed not to come yet, but this was so great! I think after this we can just move onto the interviews. I won’t be needing any more content.”

“Leo,” Azzi said roughly, taking a menacing step towards her. “Please leave.”

“What?” The peppy brunette looked taken aback.

“No, don’t leave,” Paige interjected. She looked between the two of them in disbelief. “Does someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Now Leo looked confused. “Azzi? I thought you told her?”

“Fucking hell.” Azzi let go of the wheelchair, pressing her palms against her temples. “I was going to,” she mumbled. “I swear I was, but-”

“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on right now.” Paige heard her own voice, and it took even her by her surprise. She hadn’t used a tone so filled with malice and aggression against Azzi since before they’d started this whole thing, and right now that felt like decades ago.

Leo looked hesitantly at Azzi before saying softly, “Um, I know the truth about you guys. That you two aren’t actually dating.”

Panic rose up in Paige’s throat. “Fudd, you told her?”

“I didn’t tell her!” Azzi said quickly, her voice all nervous and high pitched. “She overheard one of our conversations and asked me about it.”

“But I told her I’d keep the secret to myself, including from my dad, as long as you guys would agree to keep doing my segment. It’s way too late into the semester to throw my whole project away,” Leo defended.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azzi’s heart lurched at the wounded look in Paige’s eyes. She glanced at Leo. This was not the way she’d planned for this conversation to play out, in front of Leo and in public, with some people now staring at them.

“I-”

“Wait.” Paige interrupted. “So why is Leo here right now? Can someone explain that?”

Leo looked guiltily down at her camera, as if she’d just been caught red handed. “Well, you’ve been out with your ACL, so you haven’t really been around to help film for my doc. Which I totally understand, it’s really terrible what happened. But then I realized I was really running short on scenes, and they’re due in a week, so I asked Azzi if there was any chance that I could get any more candids of you guys.” A headache was starting to form behind Paige’s eyes, throbbing and threatening to split her skull. “Azzi texted back and said that she was taking you around campus today, and that I could come get some shots if I wanted,” Leo finished, staring at the ground.

“I told you that you could get some shots after I gave you the say so.” Azzi spit, her eyebrows drawn together in fury as she glared at Leo. “Not whenever the fuck you wanted, just following us like creeps.” Azzi leaned down until she was eye to eye with Paige. “Listen, P. I was planning on telling you that Leo knew. And I was planning on asking you for permission for her to come take some shots at the end of the day, so that she’d have enough to turn in. I was planning on doing all this before Leo came, but I forgot.” Azzi’s voice came out patched and broken. “I swear I wouldn’t have let her if you’d said no.”

Paige‘s knuckles clenched tight, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hand so hard that she started to draw blood. Of course.

Why else would Azzi show up to her apartment with this godforsaken wheelchair, with that stupid big grin of hers, and offer to spend her entire day pushing Paige around like a servant? Azzi hadn’t cared that Paige had opened up to her, been vulnerable to her about how difficult it had been to be stuck on crutches, helpless and incapable. No, she’d wheeled Paige around in order to look like a hero, to look like the model girlfriend in front of Leo’s dumbass cameras, motivated to save her own ass from being kicked off the Europe trip.

All of the times Azzi had shown up to her apartment, groceries in hand, had stayed for a movie and fallen asleep on Paige’s shoulder? Those moments had meant everything to Paige, and nothing to her. Paige cursed herself for letting her guard down, for letting herself fall in love with Azzi Fudd. For letting herself believe that they could be anything more than enemies.

She turned to Leo. “Take me home,” she demanded, her voice cold.

“Paige, wait.” Azzi scrambled furiously to stand in front of the wheelchair. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“Understand what? The fact that you know I have a hard time opening up to people, yet when I finally opened up to you about my insecurities about using crutches, you immediately took advantage of that?” Paige laughed, but it was bitter and hollow because right now, nothing was funny.

“That wasn’t my intention at all. You can’t-”

“You know what?” Paige interrupted. “I can’t even be mad at you. This is what we agreed to after all. Fake dating. Nothing less, nothing more.” She laughed bitterly. “In fact, I should thank you for being the reasonable one. For not being stupid enough to get your feelings involved like I did.” Paige bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. “This was really a genius plan. Lugging the cripple around, getting her ice cream like she’s a poor child that needs to be saved. You’re smart, Fudd, I’ll give you that.” Paige hated it, the way Azzi was recoiling into herself because of her words, but she couldn’t think. She could only feel, and right now she was feeling a whole lot of hurt.

Leo nervously took ahold of Paige’s wheelchair.

“Paige, you don’t even know what you’re saying,” Azzi said. And apparently Paige was better at controlling her emotions than Azzi was, because Azzi was crying now, forcing words through her tears.

Paige cut her off again. “Save it.” She motioned for Leo to push, and they began heading in the opposite direction. “Don’t bother coming to my surgery.”

Paige hadn’t meant that. Oh god, she hadn’t meant that. They’d talked about her surgery just days earlier - Azzi had joked that she would fill up Paige’s entire apartment with stuffed animals to await her return; she’d joked that she’d show up to her hospital room from the first visiting hour and stay until the last, nagging and bothering Paige the entire time until Paige begged her to leave; she’d joked that she’d bring the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers she could find so that she would outshine all the other measly attempts at flowers that people would bring. Paige had laughed, but in her head, she’d thought about how much she wouldn’t have minded if Azzi actually followed through with her words. About how the first face she wanted to see after her surgery was Azzi, and only Azzi. But she hadn’t said any of that, had instead giggled and swatted Azzi on the shoulder.

But now, the distance between them grew further and further, and it took Paige everything not to break apart right then and there.

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

some snippets from the current joyness fic i've been hammering away at 🤭!! i'm expecting the entire thing to clock in between 16 to 18k words so i am sharing just a few bits on account of I Am Impatient. chose ones that are probably the easiest to read out of context lol. alt text under the cut 👍🏾

Snippet 1:

"Well, I just...I was thinking...Joy, do we even deserve to go to Dream Productions?"

Joy's smile shrinks a bit at that. Oh. She didn't like Dream Productions? Well—given how many night shifts they'd shared together (Yep! Anxiety had said. According to the numbers, Sadness only ever shares Dream Duty with you. Uhh...what did you need this for again, Joy?), she figured Sadness would be just as excited...well, maybe everyone else complaining just got to her or something, that's fine, Joy could fix that—

"—Aw, Sadness, look—I promise the vibe's gonna change as soon as we get there! Sure, everyone's been a little crabby, but the car's just a little crammed and the road's just a liiittle bumpy from all the new puberty construction projects—they just need that to wear off a bit! Pluuus, the song's already been helping a lot—here, do you wanna sing along? Eighty-three mem—"

"—No, Joy, like...do we deserve it?"­­

And when Joy frowns at her, confused, she places her hand on top of the one Joy's been restlessly drumming against the seat this whole ride, and goes

"Us?"

Now it's Joy's turn for her face to heat up, apparently. "Wha—" she chokes on that, then shakes her head. "Uh." She looks down at their hands. "Haah?"

Wait—did Sadness actually find out why Joy chose Dream Productions? Well, other than the whole spiel of Yeah, sorry, guys, I did call Imagination Land, and yeah, turns out they're just not letting any visitors in right now—which, aghhh, dagnabit, you know? I'm just as heartbroken as you are that we can't see— eugh—Mount Crushmore, but make do with what you can, right?

"Oh! Uh—welll," she tries again, hoping to play it smooth, "why wouldn't...weeee?" she stretches the word out and winks.

"Um." Sadness just stares blankly back at her. "Well, 'cause we made such a mess last time..."

Snippet 2:

"Whaaat? It's not like I need some big plan! It's—come on, it's Sadness! I spend a lot of time with her already! And besides, it's not like I haven't been patient so far! Like—I know she likes me! She just gets real shy about it! And, well—heheheh, iiiit's kinda cute, you know—? But—" she shakes her head, cheeks growing hot as Disgust raises an eyebrow at that. —Anyways, she just...needs the right moment to be comfortable with it! You know?"

When Disgust frowns this time as she considers that, it looks a bit less judgy than usual. Well—sure, it's still kind of judgy—come on, it's Disgust—but she looks more confused than anything.

"Uhhh, what, so you're telling me that you're—" she points at Joy for emphasis, "—being patient?"And then her face twists into a smirk again."Joy, it’s been months since you told me something was up. I've never seen you be this patient about anything in your life."

"Wha—not true!" Joy shoots back, even though she knows Disgust is just riling her up on purpose at this point. As much as Joy loved teasing her (come on, easy target. All Joy had to do was mention broccoli or boogers and s­he'd all but completely lose it), she was always the one emotion who'd actually, on rare occasions, tease Joy back. And she always managed to say just the right things to get under Joy's skin when she did. Which—well, she guesses it's sweet or something, that they're good enough friends for Disgust to do that, but excuse her if it's a bit hard to get fond over that while her good friend is busy snickering at her.

"Ugh. Whatever," she grumbles. And that only seems to fuel Disgust's satisfaction further, so Joy shakes her head and goes back to smiling. "Okay, fine, yeah! Maybe I'm being a little bit more patient than usual. But that's 'cause Sadness...needs that, you know? And besides, all that dancing around each other's gonna end tonight! Wiiith all of this!" Joy spreads her arms out. "A little change of setting, something special! And, well, considering we're probably the only two out of any of us who actually like Dream Duty, I obviously chose the right place—"

"—So you did lie to us about Imagination Land."

"Uh—" Joy stops short, then chuckles nervously. "Welllll, I know how much you love keeping secrets, so maybeee if you just kept that fun little one between you and me—"

Snippet 3:

Joy reaches back to yank Sadness right up to the front of the door with her. She manages to peer in and catch a glimpse of the rest of her friends watching one of the sets get dressed—but then she gets the door slammed shut on her. She groans.

"Okay, but—there's no way that we're banned! Everyone else got in just fine!"

"Well, frankly, I don't know who thought it was okay for them to get a tour, either. Serves me right for letting the new hires work the call desks. You emotions just think you're all that, huh?" Joy blinks, bewildered, as the Mind Worker jabs a finger at her chest and narrows her eyes. "That orange one's already on thin ice. The sheer level of entitlement to give me her stupid notebook about how she thinks I should run my studio—and now she's trying to spread those pages around to everyone else in there like it's some manifesto—"

"—Ahhh, yeah—Anxiety's...Anxiety's like that," Joy mutters, "buuuut just let us in, and we'll fix that right up!"

Joy winks at Sadness and splits into a grin as the Mind Worker smiles back at the both of them—and then it falters halfway through as she hears the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Ohh, sure, right away! Since you two are so great at fixing things, huh? Yep, okay—lemme just pop right over to Administration and toss out your charges for trespassing, disorderly conduct, breaking and entering, destruction of studio property, deliberate dream interference, unlawful release of Subconscious wildlife, and reckless endangerment by clown!" She gulps in a breath of air after running through all of those at once and then scowls. "That last one's new, you know—we had to come up with an entirely new charge just because you two decided to screw up in a way no one's ever screwed up before!"

Joy winces as she feels Sadness shuffle to hide behind her and whimper. She's not taking too kindly to being yelled at. Joy grimaces.

"Umm, so what you're basically saying iiiis, we're special?"

"Out."

Snippet 4:

The world doesn't quite fade away this time; Joy's still painfully aware of the unintelligible chatter flooding through the halls, the bitter smell of coffee wafting past as drink trays get rushed back and forth. The way the crate is leaned up against the wall, the dream posters look like they're looming right over them when Joy looks up, gigantic and skewed. And when she feels Sadness rest her hand lightly on her arm, Joy feels both giddy and a little smug. Of course this was working! All Sadness needed was a little push—Disgust should've never doubted her. So Joy smiles to herself—then smiles down at Sadness, leans in, and—

"Oh, Joy, this is so sad..."

Joy reels back as Sadness pats her on the arm. "Uh. What?"

"Well, all the dreams are changing..." She sighs and looks back at the wall. The red light from the COMING SOON sign flashing right above the newer posters seems to find its way down to them, somehow. Joy watches as it glints against Sadness' glasses. "And they've torn down your favorite one already..."

Joy slumps a little at that and sighs. Leave it to Sadness to find a problem that wasn't even hers to get miserable over. She rolls her eyes as she nudges Sadness on the shoulder.

"Alright, maybe it's a bit of a bummer, but so what? Pfff, it's not like you liked Fairy Dream Adventure that much," she says with a snort. "You don't have to cry about it."

Sadness rubs at her eyes, the beginnings of her tears falling down her cheeks. "But...but you did...and you cared about it, so...so, if you care about it, then I care about it, and if it makes you sad, it makes me sad..."

"O—Oh," Joy says softly, heat flooding her face. She actually has to look away for a minute at that, stare down at her feet dangling over the crate's edge. Leave it to Sadness to just say the sweetest thing in the world to her like it's nothing.

[ughgoaway]

the birthday party

content warnings: alludes to sex at one point, drinking, gross romantic stuff and uhhh I think that's it? word count- 2.7k ish

a/n: 2 fics in less than a week??? who am I?? anyway, I was actually lying earlier in the week and somehow managed to finish this just in time for my birthday!! sadly, this is not how I'm spending my day but I am gonna delude myself that it is!!! Unsurprisingly, I am not a fan of this fic and wrote like 2k in a night so please tell me if it's really bad... okay here it is, love youuuuu-

You slam the door of your car and let out a sigh from deep within your chest. The day's weight feels heavy as you walk up to your silent house. The party your work had thrown you for your birthday ended up being less of a celebration and more of a hell hole you couldn't escape.

Sandra, your work “best friend” (a title she had given herself), had insisted on throwing you a party after finding out your birthday was at the end of the week. You insisted it was a small party and begged her for nothing big. And it began that way, just meeting in the conference room after work with a cake from Tesco, no dressing up, no gifts, just a small gathering.

As the week developed, your small get-together began to change and grow into something entirely new. Each email that came in had something added to the invite. Somehow, by the end of the week, it had changed to a semi-formal party, presents “optional” (necessary) with decorations and a personalised cake. 

Today had been bad enough before the party, endless incompetent people seemed to find their way to you. You'd been hit on by 2 men old enough to be your father, screamed at by a 40-year-old woman for being “a stupid bitch” and dealt with 4 more insane people.

The party was just as bad as you expected. The only thing keeping you together was the compliments on your outfit. Matty had helped you pick out the dress you were wearing the night before, insisting on helping you feel just a little bit better about the party. It was nothing much, a simple forest green cowl neck. A small slit went up the side of your leg that hit mid-thigh, you were sure it was too much for a work party but after Matty's never-ending spiel of compliments, you decided to wear it anyway.

You sat through the 2 speeches from your boss and your apparent new best friend before you managed to slip away. Yes, somehow you managed to sneak out of a party that was supposedly for you, but you weren't going to take that personally. You saw the opportunity and ran.

The strappy heels that were once on your feet sat in your hands as you walked up the path to your front door. There were no lights on, which was unusual for this time. You thought Matty would be home and waiting with open arms, but he was nowhere to be seen, his car not even in the driveway. 

You tried to mask your disappointment at your boyfriend not being home for your birthday, You're sure he just got caught up in the studio with George. A new idea probably came to him suddenly that he needed to get done then and there. You almost cursed his brain, but you could never curse the thing you loved so much.

The way you existed in his mind astonished you. Song after song was written about you, each one more beautiful than the last and each one changed how you perceived yourself. You used to insist the person who he sang about wasn't real, that she couldn't be. But demo after demo was played to you with Matty insisting you are real, and you are exactly how he sings about you.

You were this unimaginable force that changed his life in a way he only thought was possible in shitty teen movies. He was enamoured by you, every waking thought was about you, and if he was honest, even his non-waking thoughts were about you. He felt higher than heaven when he was with you, not that he would ever tell you that as he's sure you would cringe and scrunch your nose up at his cheesy behaviour.

The key clicked in the lock, and your door screeched open. Your cat came running at you and began rubbing on your legs. “Hi baby,” you began, turning the entryway light on and sighing once again, “I've got to grease those door hinges, don't I nutmeg?” Your cat had been adopted long before Matty came into your life. Well, adopted was a strong word. You found him hidden under the bins outside your old flat, once a skinny kitten, but he was now a slightly too chunky house cat who loved you more than life itself. Matty always joked that his only real competition for the thing that loved you most in the world was nutmeg, but he insisted he beat him every time.

you drop your heels on the floor and shut the door behind you, wincing at the squeak it lets out. Only to jump where you stood at the sight in front of you.

“Surprise!” rang out from the lounge room, your friends and family all stood with hats and smiles as they stared at you.

Tears streamed down your face as you laughed at the sight in front of you, streamers hung from the beams and balloons coming from every where.

You briefly look around at the people in front of you before your eyes are drawn directly to him, just as they always were.

Matty came strolling up and pulled you in for a brief kiss before escorting you into the sea of people that faced you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After 40 minutes of pure joy and mingling, you managed to pull away to get a drink. You enter the kitchen and grab a cup off the side before moving further in to find whatever alcohol you could.

You eventually settle on a Jack and Coke, You spy them on the other side of the kitchen and walk over to make your drink. More Jack than Coke if you are honest.

You take a sip and sigh as the drink slides down your throat, the glass clinks as you place it back down on the counter to take a breath.

Quickly, a pair of hands slide over your hips and settle on your stomach, You know exactly who it is by the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his warmth.

Matty pulls you into his body, your back against his chest. He begins pressing small kisses up the side of your neck and smiles as he hears your poorly suppressed giggles slipping out.

"So what do you think beautiful?" he asked, whispering into your ear before pressing yet another kiss behind it.

You slide around in his arms, his hands cheekily slipping down to grip your ass before sliding up to rest on your waist again. You shoot him a faux disapproving look but soon break out into a large smile at the pure adoration on your boyfriend's face.

"I think it's amazing. Thank you so much, baby," you say, kissing Matty. But you quickly pull away, much to the distaste of your boyfriend who lets out an upset grumble. "It explains all your suspicious behaviour over the last few weeks…" you say teasingly, raising your eyebrows and smiling at the man in front of you before leaning in for another kiss.

This time, however, it was Matty rejecting your advances as he pulled away and looked down at you teasingly.

"Oh, I've been suspicious, have I?" he said, leaning further back of your grip, causing the pair of you to begin walking back together until the kitchen counter stopped you, and you pressed into Matty.

"Please do tell love, how was I being suspicious, huh?" he said with a mocking lilt to his voice, leaning in and teasing your lips with his own. His breath tickled your lips, and he kept evading your moves.

“Well…”  you begin smiling gleefully at your boyfriend, nervous to explain how he's been suspicious, worrying hell realise just how much time you spend lovingly watching him. Some would say creepily, you're sure, but you say lovingly.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You begin with the first thing you noticed, Matty's phone was suddenly attached to him. Usually, he had no idea where his phone was at any given time, believing everyone should be more present and leave their phones at home.

If anyone asked him about it, he would then begin to go on a long rant about the internet and his qualms with it. It was at that point you interrupted and just told whoever he was talking to to listen to “a brief inquiry” and “notes” if they wanted his thoughts on that subject.

But recently you'd noticed he hadn't been asking you 100 times a day “Babe, have you seen my phone?” like he usually did when he left it somewhere in your concrete mansion of a home. Every text and call was immediately answered, and some calls were even taken in the other room. You wrote it off as secret dirty hit business, trying not to delude yourself into thinking something more.

But it was last Sunday when you became sceptical of your boyfriend's new attachment to his phone. 

The sun was streaming through the windows to the courtyard, decorating the house in golden hues that danced over the walls. You and Matty had woken up starving (probably due to the events of the night before) and decided to make breakfast.

So you did, like a couple in a rom-com. Matty's hair was messy, and his pyjama trousers sat low on his hips. He had forgone a shirt this morning as it had been stolen by you. You danced around him in one of his many Jeff Buckley shirts with nothing but panties underneath. 

You swung around in each other's arms and stared into the other's eyes like lovesick teenagers. You put a hand up and began twisting the curls surrounding Matty's face. The other hand slid behind his neck and began to massage the curls back there. A content hum slipped out your boyfriend's mouth, and his eyes fluttered close at the feeling.

You stared in awe at the man in front of you, almost feeling sick to your stomach with affection. You traced each freckle on his face, mentally keeping count before getting distracted by his flittering eyelashes. You marvel at their length and briefly wonder why men always get such long eyelashes.

Before that thought overtakes your mind, you get distracted by another feature on your beautiful boyfriend's face, the light blush that decorates his cheeks. You stroke over the apples of his cheeks and resist the urge to pinch them like a grandmother.

The same pink that flushed his cheeks sat on his plump lips that were begging to be kissed, so you did. You pecked his lips over and over before moving to his cheeks, then his forehead and soon over his whole face. 

His laughter soon broke the pair of you up and in a smitten daze Matty suggested a shower, you nodded and told him to go get it started while you put the dishes away. He happily ran up the stairs to start the shower and you giggled at your boyfriend's teenage excitement.

His phone buzzed on the concrete counter and you fought the internal battle of whether to look, your rational side saying not too soon lost out to intense curiosity.

A message from his mum sat on the screen simply saying, “Oh love, that's perfect. y/n will adore it.”

“Huh… so maybe not dirty hit business” you spoke out quietly to yourself, You soon put the phone down and ran up to the shower where your boyfriend was waiting ready to undress you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so maybe I was on my phone a bit more than usual but that can't be it! Surely that alone can't be suspicious” Matty said looking down at you with a grin on his face. 

“Well no… There was that message from your mum too!” You say before whispering something under your breath, “and that other thing...”

“Other thing?” Matty said, leaning back to examine your face, narrowing his eyes at your expression.

You stay silent at bite your lip at him, shaking your head at his questioning glare. 

“No, no. Come on baby, what else made you realise something was up hmm” Matty said. You kept on moving your head from side to side, avoiding his gaze, knowing you'd crumble as soon as you looked at him.

Finally, he gripped your head between his hands and pressed kisses over your face, hoping it would get you to break. 

It did.

“Fine! Fine!” You relent at your boyfriend's onslaught of pecks, “There was the sock drawer thing...” you say quietly, looking up at Matty, who wore a puzzled expression.

“Sock drawer thing?” he asked confusedly, “I'm gonna need more than that babe” he said, a smile clear in his voice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the Wednesday of the week of your birthday, Matty's phone had still been attached at the hip to him but you gave up questioning it, thinking he was just feeling more social lately. 

You sat up at the head of your bed, your pillows behind your back and the duvet crumpled over your legs as you read your book. The shower was running in your ensuite, Matty needed one before a meeting at the office.

Soon the shower stopped and after a groan, a voice rang out behind the door. “Babe!” Matty began, “I forgot to get pants and a pair of socks, can you grab me some?”

You smiled at your boyfriend's forgetfulness, knowing he wasn't exactly a morning person, “Of course my love” you reply softly sliding the duvet off your legs and padding across the room to his drawer.

Your hand had barely grabbed the handle before he came rushing out and shouting, “WAIT! NO, NO NO” he stared at you with wild eyes. You shot back and lifted your hands in mock surrender to your boyfriend.

You took in his look, his shirt was half-buttoned but around his waist was just his towel. His curls were sopping wet and dripping on the floor, he was panting and staring at you with unnaturally wide eyes. 

“Sorry babe... Uhh..” he struggled to finish his sentence, looking around the room as if to find an excuse for his erratic behaviour. 

“Just… didn't want you to get out of bed s’all” he said pausing briefly, a nervous smile broke out across his face, “You looked so cosy reading so just… go get settled again”

You looked suspiciously at your boyfriend before nodding and walking back to bed silently. The rest of the day went as expected, Matty kissed you goodbye before his meeting and you went to work where you were bombarded with questions from Sandra about your “big day”.

But you didn't forget his wild eyes and odd behaviour.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh yeah!” Matty said, laughing at himself, “All the decorations were stashed in there so I couldn't have you snooping around” he explained causally.  “But that was very odd of me. Were you expecting a party” he asked with a tilt of his head.

He watched your cheeks heat up as you stammered to explain what you expected, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

Eventually, you just spat it out, “Well… I kind of thought you might be proposing to me,” you say cautiously. You watch your boyfriend's eyes widen, and your hand shoots up to his chest to soothe him. 

“Don't freak out, okay!!” You beg him, “It was just the combination of a few things that made me think that. But PLEASE do not feel pressured. We will get married when we do. There is no rush from me, I promise”

You wait with bated breath at his reaction, hoping it wouldn't be running and screaming. Soon, he broke out in wild laughter, much to your relief.

Once his laughter died down, he pulled you in closer and squeezed you lightly, “Not yet sweetheart, but I will eventually, don't you worry.” You smiled at his words and let yourself melt into his embrace.

Little did you know, upstairs in that sock drawer was a ring, no decorations having been stashed there. Just a little velvet box and a written speech prepared for next week, your 6th anniversary.

[femmmie]

A Classic Mistake

The Chosens are rehearsing for Smosh the Sitcom Live. And Spencer and Shayne come up with the scheme to kiss during the show.

Words: 1,243

Genre: fluff, angst, pining, first kiss

Rating: teen I guess, there's kissing lmao

read on AO3: A classic mistake - Japhan2024 - Smosh [Archive of Our Own]

Trevor and Spencer were at Shayne and Courtney's place to rehearse for Smosh the Sitcom Live. They had been at it the entire week, but Shayne had to do a double role as both Krungle AND one of the three Chosens. So he appreciated the guys coming over for some extra preparation.

"It's just one week now," Spencer said, sipping on a Kickstart, which Shayne had specifically bought for him (in bulk).

"Yeah, we've got this, boys," Trevor added.

"It's gonna be a pretty epic show," Courtney peeked their head around the corner and used their Dominic voice. That sent Shayne into a hearty laugh.

"I'm going to go spend the night at my sister's," Courtney continued in a normal voice. "See you guys on Monday!"

"Bye Court!" "Byee," "By honey," they guys chimed. Shayne kissed Courtney goodbye, with a sweet, soft peck on the lips. As the door closed behind them, Shayne turned around, and there was no Shayne to be detected in his demeanor. He was the Chosen.

"Hmmm. It appears we are here to rehearse this hellscape of a show," he began his familiar spiel.

"We have to train and be ready, like we've never been ready before," Trevor declared in his best Chosen tone, staring into the distance.

Spencer continued: "We have to make sure that nobody escapes through the barriers of the literal hellscape, until they have told us their DEEPEST and most hidden secrets."

Shayne shouted: "WE MUST BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING. NOTHING WILL BREAK US," and at that exact time, a fart sound escaped his phone. Trevor descended into laughter. Shayne's Chosen smirked, content.

"Goddamnit, Chosen," Spence scolded in jest. "Are you still defeated this quickly, by only a single flatulent moment?"

Trevor sighed. "My blade is mighty, but not as mighty as the simple butt-horn." Now it was Spencer's time to snort.

They kept bantering, trying to get each other to laugh. Trevor did little else than wheeze in hysterics. He really tried, it wasn't his fault. And they had a great time. But it was getting late and he wanted to spend the night at his girlfriend's house. So he said goodbye to Shayne and Spencer, and left the house.

"It appears that you and I are the only ones left, to complete our training," Spencer spoke.

"It does appear to be the case," Shayne answered. He was getting quite tired and decided to drop the Chosen for a moment. "Spencer, do you want another Kickstart?"

"Don't mind if I do," Spencer replied, and got it from the fridge himself. "You?" He asked, but Shayne gestured he was full enough.

"It's gonna be a lot, playing two roles." Spencer relaxed into Shayne's couch.

"Absolutely. At some point, the Chosen will have a full face of makeup on. Oh god, the lashes are so heavy, man. Why did I agree to this?"

"You mean why did you think of it yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Who do you think will do the kiss?" Spencer looked at Shayne with a neutral tone, yet *something* shifted the mood in Shayne's living room.

"Uh, well Krungle might do it. Amanda and Ian's chemistry is off the charts."

Spencer nodded in agreement.

Shayne went on: "And they have a whole scene where they're about to do it. Maybe one of them will be like, fuck it, let's go!"

"If Amanda breaks, then it's you who will have to kiss Ian, though."

"Yeah, that would be pretty awkward," Shayne laughed. "Yet hilarious!"

"Ian would haaaate it, dude."

"I'd gladly kiss him, if it will make him that annoyed."

"What about you and Dominic?"

"Well, only if I'm Krungle. Dominic is very straight," Shayne replied, like it was a fact set in stone.

"But it's your-"

"No, not when Courtney's Dominic."

"Oh."

It was quiet for a while. It was getting later and later, but Spencer showed no intention of leaving. And with Courtney gone, Shayne kind of liked the company.

"Maybe we should kiss."

"What?"

Spencer looked at Shayne again in the same way. Somehow it made Shayne blush.

"I mean the Chosens, of course."

"Oh. Wow, that would be... HILARIOUS!" Shayne exclaimed.

Spencer sat up energetically. "Yeah, and it should come out of fucking nowhere."

"You're right..." Shayne was thinking. Where in the script would they fit it in?

"Have you done live kisses before?"

"What? Oh, yeah, plenty," Shayne bluffed. "Have you?"

"Sure. Do you think we should practice, though?"

Shayne swallowed. "I- I guess we have to!"

Another awkward silence.

"Well, maybe we should rehearse it, right now?"

Spencer got up from the couch, and walked up to Shayne. Why did this make Shayne blush even more? He suddenly noticed things about Spencer he'd never noticed before. Like his plump, pink lips, his fuckboy smirk, his luscious curls, what- what the hell was Shayne thinking...

"Right! So, we should do a stage kiss-" Shayne's attempt at a defense was in vain.

"No, a real one. Fans will notice if it's not real."

"Okay, well then, I guess we'll kiss right now?"

Spencer got on his tippy-toes and reached for Shayne's mouth.

It was short and sweet. Shayne nodded. "Yeah, just like that." His heart was racing. Why was it racing?! Of course he knew why. He knew a thing or two about infatuation. And how to act on it and when too ignore it. But he'd never been in a situation where it hit him right during a rehearsal-kiss.

"I think we need to do that a few more times," Spencer insisted. Maybe with the fart sounds. So we know we won't get distracted."

"Yeah! Yeah, you're right. Okay, here we go again..."

This time, Spencer caressed Shayne's jaw, placed his lips squarely on Shayne's, and stayed there for a while. Did he notice Shayne's panicked heartbeat and fast breathing? Shayne fucking hoped not.

"Hehe," Spencer said when they finally broke the kiss, after what seemed like an eternity. "This will for sure get 'em. Or, like the Chosen would say: impressive."

"It.. absolutely will.." Shayne heard himself say.

"One more time just to make sure?"

Shayne nodded, silently thanking the dusk that had fallen, so his red head wasn't so obvious.

Spencer reached for his lips once again, and Shayne felt himself caressing and grabbing Spencer's arm, like he was Amanda - who famously jacked off people's arms - and kissing Spencer deeply, savoring every last second of it. He somehow tasted the Mountain Dew. He felt Spencer's hand grab his neck, pulling them closer.

They were kissing - full tongue now. Shayne was getting desperate. How was he going to explain this to Court? Shayne's hand was lost in a sea of brown curls, while Spencer's hands were searching, working their way around Shayne's shoulders and back. Entirely against his will, a deep moan escaped Shayne's throat- paralyzing him, like he was set in stone, then and there.

Spencer released him. "Better to get this inevitable sexual tension out of the way now, so it won't bother us next week," Spencer euphemized the whole situation, like he had not just carved out Shayne's heart and held it in his bloody hand.

"Mmmyeah.." Shayne took a few steadying breaths. "So, that's what it feels like to be your girlfriend, huh," he managed to joke.

"You know I had to do it to 'em."

"Spencer?"

"Whaddup?"

"Do you think we'll be able to pull this off?"

"I think we need some more practice."

[pukanavis]

Toi Shiramitsu SR Card Story 「The Beginning Of Treasured Times」 Track 2

Location: HAMA House ・Pig Room

Toi: Mmh…

…Sigh.

Ryui: …Can’t sleep?

Toi: Ani-sama.

Ryui: Why don’t you come over here?

Toi: Okay…!

Ryui: What’s up? Are you having a hard time getting adjusted to sleeping in a new place?

Toi: No, it’s not that. I just…

I had so much fun today. I can't get to sleep with all the excitement that's still buzzing in my veins.

I was helping out Yukikaze-san with some stuff earlier today and once we were done, he rewarded me with a gold star. Then, I ran into Muneuji-kun and he let me try on his helmet…

When I went to grab an afternoon snack, Raito-san gave me some ramen he thought I might like! It had a special pork bone broth and was topped with enough shredded wood ear mushrooms to take over an entire mouthful…!

Ryui: …That's great to hear. I’m glad there isn’t anyone here that wants to hurt you.

Toi: That’s just scratching the surface of everything I got up to today. I’ve been laughing and smiling so much that it’s made my cheeks start to hurt.

But it’s okay, because the amount of fun I’ve had makes up for it…

I think it’s because you’re with me, Ani-sama.

This isn’t some dream. My big brother is well and truly here, smiling alongside me…

Ryui: Toi…

Netaro: I’m so happy for you, Toi~. Here, I’ll take over for Ryui and assume responsibility of head rub duty now.

Ryui: GET OUT!

What the hell are you doing here!?

Netaro: I heard you ask if I wanted to come over here? And who am I to disappoint ♪

Ryui: I wasn’t talking to you!

Netaro: It’s so toasty in here~. I’m guaranteed to be out cold till the sun comes up!

Come closer, boys. Let me give you some cuddles.

Toi: Fufu, you’re so silly, Netaro-san~. Alright then, I'll give you some hugs.

Ryui: Oi, who said you can touch us! Hands off!

And don’t use Toi like a body pillow! You’re gonna crush him!

Netaro: Simmer down, Ryui. I already heard this whole spiel earlier today and my ears are ti~red of it.

You’ll wake everyone up if you keep barking like that. Do you need me to stuff your mouth with all the sheep I’ve counted tonight?

Ryui: Fucking try it, I dare you!!

Toi: Calm down, Ani-sama…

Toi: (...My big brother’s voice is right here with me.)

(Every night and day that passed without him there felt like a prison.)

(It was so lonely…so quiet.)

(But now that I’ve started staying at the HAMA House, everything has changed. There’s so much going on everyday that it doesn’t leave a moment for me to feel like I'm alone.)

(Things are really looking up now…this is the beginning of a new chapter.)

(There's no telling what waits for us in the future, but at least I know that those frightful nights have come to an end.)

…I’m really glad we came here, Ani-sama.

Back

[meowzilla93]

BaxterMCWeek Day 1: First Meeting

Happy Birthday my darling Monochromatic Man big thank you to @minthe-drawings for hosting this!!

o((>ω< ))o

Baxter was incredibly bored.

Traveling with his parents was always a chore but being stuck at the Cypress, being unable to dance or find a way to entertain himself made things even more so boring. Whilst his parents where busy ‘making connections’ they had banned him from dancing so that he couldn’t get into any trouble.

This of course just made him all the more restless and more likely to look for a way to get into trouble. He had spoken with a few of the other children there, much in the same position as him, being told to ‘rest’ and being quite bored of it.

Hearing the music come across the grounds, Baxter was more and more tempted to find a way to escape the eyes of his instructors and make his way over to where the music sang to him. As he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible, he slowly made his way towards the edge of the crowd, making sure not to draw any attention towards himself.

Biding his time, Baxter simply waited for an opportunity to sneak away undetected, that was until a head of copper hair caught his attention; One that was making its way towards him.

Baxter was certain he had never seen the person before, the striking hair and the pair of mismatched pair of green and gold eyes making a definite impression on him in that moment. Paired with a smile that showed off their teeth, he could swear that they almost looked like a fox that had gotten away with doing sly. He could certainly understand the feeling.

As they made their way closer to him, he noted that this fox was as pale as he was, but their skin was marked with a smattering of freckles, unlike their tanned companion who was attempting to catch his attention as they got closer,

“Hey, so, this might sound weird, but what are you guys all doing here?”

Bright verdant eyes looked up at him, and before he was able to answer the admittedly ‘weird’ question, their fox-like companion chuckled before poking them in the ribs,

“Really, that’s the question you’re gonna go with? After the whole ‘perhaps we walked into an alternate universe’ spiel just earlier?”

Baxter couldn’t help but chuckle at that remark, causing both pairs of eyes to train themselves back onto him. This whole interaction was taking a different course than he anticipated, and it wasn’t something he disliked at all. Allowing a coy smile to cross his face, he decided to play along with their little adventure,

“We’re visitors who are in this town for a dance circuit. This dining area is reserved for our group only tonight. What is going on with you?”

As the shorter of the two chuckled uncomfortably, scratching their cheek, the Fox, as Baxter had chosen to label them, snorted at the reaction; Verdant eyes narrowed at the Fox before starting their apologies,

“Oops. We didn’t know that. There’s a soiree happening on the other side of the club for members and their guests, that’s where we came from. Please don’t tell on us.”

That caught Baxter’s attention; Leaning forward, he became more intrigued with he pair with each passing moment,

“I thought I noticed something that way. It’s been bothering me the entire evening. I was planning to check when it got darker.”

“Why wait?”

Baxter wasn’t certain he heard right, but as verdant eyes matched his own in wideness, he realized he most certainly did. Turning his head back to the Fox, he couldn’t get a proper sentence out,

“I-sorry. What?”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, the Fox tilted their head at him, eyes sparkling with mischief,

“Why. Wait? Seems most of the adults here are busy. Come on! We will sneak you into our soiree! Doubt anyone will notice.”

Baxter wasn’t a stranger to getting himself into trouble or any amount of mischief, but these days that typically happened on his own. A stranger offering to help him sneak out of a boring event? That was certainly a first.

Eyes narrowing at the mischievous Fox in front of him, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny the offer. Taking a quick look around the area, he was confident that no one was paying attention to a trio of kids hovering at the edge of the crowd, he decided that if he were to take up this Fox on this offer, he had better do it now.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

The sly grin turning into a wide smile, Baxter knew he had made the right decision. What he was not expecting, is when the Fox nodded to their companion to quicky make their way back to their soiree, was a warm hand gripping onto his and pulling him along.

Allowing himself to get pulled along, Baxter didn’t even look back to see if anyone had seen him leave. His mind was focused on the person ahead of him, the one with the hair coloured of fallen leaves and a personality that certainly matched the moniker he had given them in his thoughts. He was finally able to take in what his Fox was wearing; A flowy dark green dress with golden accents stitched into it, paired with gold, kitten heeled shoes.

He really could help but think that they belong in a forest, every part of their aesthetic and personality convincing him further. Before he could muse any further about the person who’s hand still held onto his own, the music had started to grow louder and they had finally arrived at the event he was planning to sneak off to later in the evening.

A chuckle pulls him further from his thoughts as he turns and looks at his Fox, who wore a truly happy and satisfied smile; Eyes twinkling with mirth as they let go of his hand and instead swept their own out towards the crowd in front of them.

“Welcome! To our Summer Soiree!”

“Why thank you. I feel honoured to have been given a VIP pass to it.”

Baxter teased, but before he could say anything further, his Fox’s companion was trying to catch their attention.

“Aug, hang on where are –“

Their tanned companion had a worried look on his face as he searched the crowd, and Baxter considered this his time to bow out from their adventure and start on his own.

“It looks like you are both busy. I appreciate the assistance in getting here, but I’ll be able to entertain myself from here.”

He tilts his head in goodbye and watches as crestfallen expression appears on his Fox’s face. He couldn’t deny that he wished he could spend a bit more time with them, but he knew when his presence was no longer needed, and knew how to make himself scarce.

“I -wait hang on.”

Turning their attention back to their companion, his Fox was speaking quickly and quietly, their companion clearly a touch agitated, but the Fox seemed to not be worried about a thing. Not wanting to disturb them further, he quietly stepped back and walked away, taking in the lights and ambiance of the Soiree that he had found himself at.

As he walked around, noting the similar foods, drinks and set up that they had; Nothing drastically different from where he came from, but he could tell the energy here was much happier. More enjoyable to be a part of. Unlike the cold and proper stiffness, he had to deal with at the events he typically has to attend. He found himself enjoying just experiencing the ambiance of the event, and soon he wanted to join in on it.

Making his way toward the dancefloor, he listened to the band slowly coming to the end of current song as he looked around for a potential partner he could enjoy a quick dance with before he had to find his way back to were his parents were no doubt going to start looking for him. His mind wandered to his Fox from earlier in the evening, silently wishing he could see them one last time before he disappeared; That was until he found them standing at the edge of the dancefloor, seemingly looking for a partner to dance with.

Rarely does fate give people the chance to get what they wish for, and Baxter wasn’t going to give up this chance. Walking up, he taps his Fox on the shoulder and as they turn to see who had tried to grab their attention, their face goes from questioning to ecstatic in quick succession.

“Hello! I wondered where you went off to!”

It warmed him to think that someone cared about him, someone who was basically a stranger to him, but it brought a genuine smile to his face. With a flick of his hand, he quickly explains himself,

“I do apologise. I didn’t want to take you away from your friend and you had done so much to just sneak me in already. I didn’t want to impose.”

He watches as his Fox cocks an eyebrow at him, clearly amused at the language he was using. He knew too well that he spoke more formally than most kids, but it was something he took in stride.

“Though, now that I have found you this time round, may I ask; Are planning on dancing?”

“I am if I can find anyone to dance with me. My friend is off on a search and rescue mission, so I’ve been left on my own to find a new partner.”

Baxter would be lying if he said he wasn’t elated at hearing that, but he quickly squashed down any excited emotion and simply held out his hand towards his Fox,

“In that case, we should dance. It’s perfect timing, a new song is just about to start.”

“I think that would be quite fun. Plus at least this way, you won’t disappear as soon as I look away this time.”

The Fox teased him as they placed a hand in his. Without any further words, he simply gave her a wisp of a smile and walked out to the dancefloor. Once they had found a spot, he went into his proper form for dancing, and was pleasantly surprised when his partner had done the same.

The confident way his Fox settled into position, he would be hard pressed to imagine that they hadn’t had lessons in the past, and had been regularly training like he had. As the first notes of the song played through the night, Baxter took the lead in the dance, effortlessly guiding them both into the night. As he continued to guide his Fox across the dancefloor, he couldn’t help but be elated at the knowledge that he had a brilliant dancing partner, deftly matching his steps and competently keeping pace with the music.

Baxter was thoroughly enjoying himself in the company of his Fox, comfortably finding a rhythm with them as they dance. But as all good things do, it came to an end far too soon for his liking. As the music came to an end, he politely stepped back, releasing the warm hands of his fox, before taking a bow.

“Thank you for dancing with me, and for bringing me here tonight. It was truly a lovely experience.”

His Fox smiled ever so gently at him; He could feel the softness of their gaze as he straightened out.

As they were about to respond someone called out to them, catching their attention, though Baxter couldn’t make out what it was. With a disappointed look, they turned back to Baxter, their look having changed to a sad one, almost apologetic. Baxter could gather easily what that meant and so, made his excuses,

“It seems that I have now overstayed my welcome. Thank you once again for your kindness.”

As he turned to leave, he could see his Fox try to reach out to him, but stopped themselves before it was too obvious for anyone else to notice. But he did, and that mattered more than he cared to admit for some reason.

He took a few steps, before turning back, his Fox watching him leave, he decided to leave on last parting comment, before disappearing from their lives,

“Oh, by the by, you have nice legs.”

As a red flush appeared on their cheeks, Baxter flashed a toothy grin at them before he disappeared into the crowd, feeling warm and accomplished in his adventure of the day. He hoped to remember this night, and his Fox for many years to come; After all, magical moments like these do not come often, and Baxter did not consider himself as someone to be gifted a moment like this again in the future.

[mediumgayitalian]

HELLO omg i love your solangelo royals AU, their flirtatious enemies to lovers chemistry in part 2 is so cute 😭 not sure if you’re planning to write more in the universe (i’m already so grateful for what you have out!!) but i just gotta say i am so curious about nico seeking asylum, and what the circumstances were when he showed up, and i desperately want to read more of EVERYTHING in this paragraph:

“Will was annoyed with him the first day they met. He was annoyed the second time, seething, really, dragging Nico back to the sterile surgical suite to fix his torn stitches. He was annoyed when Nico first shouted at him, bewilderment at this random physician treating him like he was another resident of the palace, not the only son of Hades. He was annoyed, notably, the one time Nico came to the infirmary after spraining his wrist in sword fighting and, in Will’s words, “breathed too loudly.”

i hit that ao3 subscribe button so fast 🫠

anyway, love your writing and all the snippets you post!!!! thank you!!

hi hi hi!! you have been reblogging my stuff!! i am very grateful for it as it makes me feel appreciated enough to keep posting!!

i am absolutely planning more in-universe 😎😎 i want the main fic to be long, slowburn, and will pov; i have lots of scenes rattling around in my brain but i'm still working on an actual plotline lol. if i figure out a way to start it i'm just gonna start and hope the plot finds me along the way lol

okay so the asylum thing. i have Lore and im so pumped u asked so here is my rambling:

my idea, and this whole spiel is pretty heavily inspired by this royal au series i'm obsessed with by @gatesofember (with a sprinkling of setting inspo from this fic by @percyinpanties), is that each olympian/major god is a House. so like House Zeus, House Apollo, House Hades, etc. i just thought it was way cooler than kingdom lol.

nico has been fighting nonstop w his father since bianca died. just. constantly. notoriously. they do not get along. they argue about EVERYTHING.

one day, Prince Nico of Hades shows up at House Apollo, ass o'clock in the morning, barely clinging to his horse, exhausted, and claims asylum.

uproar. basically. like thats DRAMA.

of course apollo loves drama and also cannot refuse asylum without good reason, so he graciously accepts. some fun details about that:

nico is now, before a prince, an Asylum Seeker. by status, he is not royalty outside of his own House if he steps away from the role, which he lowkey has done by seeking asylum from his own House. he has very little say in anything now.

apollo, however, has granted him shelter in the royal wing of the House, granting him a royal suite of apartments as if he was a visiting diplomat/royal/House Hades representative. this does not, technically, change his official status, but it does make abundantly clear that apollo still considers him of royal status. aside from that, he's still a prince, and no one wants to make an enemy of a prince (since he can still easily return to his throne, essentially? like there are no laws stopping him from doing so. this whole situation is just Odd and Weird and Really Good Gossip), they were all gonna treat him like prince anyway. he has the fancy clothes and still wears his circlet and often sits in on apollo's fancy meetings and shit (apollo likes his nerve).

will could not give any less of a shit.

he is the only person in the entire House and probably beyond who not only does not give a shit, and does not give a shit to nico's face.

this is insane behaviour.

will is the house physician, right. so in term of respect, he has a lot of it, but he has no authority outside his own infirmary, really. he gets a lot more respect than his status calls for because he's prodigiously good at healing. like. people tease that he can raise the dead. he can't, but. you know. apollo is the House of Drama, really, so no surprises there.

will kinda holes himself up in the infirmary?? there are a few reasons for that. one, apollo is a very artistically inclined House, and will is not very artistically inclined, so he started working in the infirmary as a kid and basically stayed there lol. the court physician before him was actually apollo's oldest daughter, hygieia, whom will adored to a million pieces and who doted on him lol. (she got him a little physician's tunic when he was seven and he literally wore it until it was threads). anyways. he feels useful in the infirmary, and its also where he does all his studies, so he mostly stays in that area of the castle. two, he doesnt get boundaries very well. he also thinks hierarchy is deeply, deeply stupid. for his own safety his friends are like hey. maybe dont interact with visiting royals and diplomats and shit. because someone is going to stab you one day. (and will is like 'well i'll just fix myself then' and they're like 'will for the love of the gods. please.') plus the east wing of the castle (where the infirmary is) is rly well lit and beautiful and leads right to the gardens and the library, so will likes it there :)

this would usually be a great mix, right? nico, who has been treated very much as a prince his entire life and has had people either walking on eggshells around him or scared of him, who has never had anyone but his father and maybe his sister defy him in his life, chilling in the centre part of the castle with the rest of the more royal members, and will, mr Authority Who? Don't Tell Me What To Do, chilling out in the east. no need to interact with each other.

except.

except.

nico is a dumbass who got hurt on his way to House Apollo. and did not tell anyone bc thats embarrassing. so he collapses right after asking asylum, and is carried to will's infirmary, who waits with his foot tapping until nico wakes back up and tears into him 😭😭 calling him the biggest dumbass to ever cross these lands and getting quite creative with it, really, absolutely running his mouth, and as soon as nico recovers from being bewildered (does not take long) he is like you??? cannot fucking talk to me like that???? i am the prince of ghosts???? fucker??? who do you think you are talking to??? and will is like i brought you back into this world, you fucker, i will send your ass right back out of it if you dont sit down and shut up and write down these recovery instructions. and nico is like ???? meanwhile the nurses in the infirmery who know will's stubborn ass are GIGGLING. like they think hes gonna die but at least its funny.

everyone lowkey expects nico to tattle to apollo and get will thrown out or something.

nico does not. which is weird, because, like, maybe he usually would?? but will makes him so mad he cant even think straight. the second hes released from the infirmary he stomps to his new quarters, seething. he shows up in the infirmary next day with the full intent to start an argument. instead, will tries to put him to WORK. and then gets irritable when nico refuses and kicks him out.

just absolutely insane behaviour. if anyone talked to nico like that in his House theyd be arrested, if not excecuted. hell, if will says this shit in front of apollo he might still get arrested, because what. but nico keeps going back and continues to get humbled by will basically every day.

and, ho ho, what happens?? does he maybe begin to care about will?? no. of course not. will is a pain in his ass.

insert part two here, blah blah blah, nico very obviously does care about will and its embarrassing

he realises right after this that he cares about will. although theres still a layer of denial over it bc will is his fucking nemesis, a pain in his ass, and also a Whole Ass Guy, so.

will begrudgingly allows nico to drag him out of the infirmary on occasion.

he has to admit, that when nico isnt being a diva, he is.

kind of.

charming.

a little.

if he had a knife to his throat, he would admit this.

maybe.

in terms of falling in love, they fall in love FAST. after that barrier of "you're so fucking annoying" "IM annoying?!?!?!" "yes glad you agree" crumbles, they both go TUMBLING off that cliff bro. will takes a cannon to every single one of the bitchy walls nico put up after his sister died, leaving him heart wrenchingly lonely. he treats nico like a person. and nico treats will like an equal, not someone lesser, in fact he treats will like hes not a prince, not a king, but a god. he reveres him. will has never felt this worthy of anythign in his life.

obviously, though.

its vague ambigious royalty times.

their relationship is forbidden and very, very secret.

nico, as a royal, wouldnt face many consequences, but will...

the issue is that will is the most frustrated by the secrecy. nico has always known that he would have to love in secret, he grew up in that truth. will has never lied about anything in his entire life. the whole royal hierarchy makes no sense in any way and pisses him the hell off. he doesnt like having to be cautious about the way he touches nicos shoulder.

4. wrote too many things in one block and got cut off 💀💀 turns out i DO have a plot omg. thank you for asking. GOD i love them so bad.

5. as for the paragraph you liked -- ME TOO I WAS SO PROUD OF IT. IM GLD YOU LIKED. im seeing now ive kinda mixed the first and second "will was annoyed with him" in my brainstorming but eh. ill iron it out later.

6. anyways!! thank you!! expect more for the royal au soon. not sure if im gonna do what i did on my other blog and start slowly updating & posting the long fic, or if ill add some more short ones as i write the long fic in its entirety before posting, but ill figure it out. i have lots to say about them and theres nothing more fun to me than writing secret relationship and rivals to lovers teehee

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Between Two Lungs/Heaven is Here Pt 2

SYNOPSIS: Y/N tries to process the idea of eternity and reincarnation. Aziraphale begins to identify his feelings for both Crowley and Y/N. Crowley is pining and moody

WORD COUNT: 7k

TAGS: Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley, fluff, soulmates, pining, kind of confession, so much fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, pov third person, fluff and angst

A/N: i didn’t mean for this to be as long as it is, and I mean the story itself. But there will be a part 3. This focuses more on Aziraphale, next more on Crowley. Sorry this isn’t as long as the last but felt like it was wrapped up

She felt like she was vibrating as a human, small little shakes destroying her entire sense of balance. Nina had made her take her break, though it was far too early in her shift, and she sat in the back with her legs shaking so violently the table rattled. She'd broken her mug that was sitting on top of it. Y/N was absentminded the entire shift, messing up orders and stuttering with each customer she talked to. Eventually Nina pulled her aside during a lull.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, eyes wide as she seemed to realize that this wasn't a 'here's the sugar, don't forget the napkins' spiel - the kind of spiel every new person got during the first month of their job, that was both helpful and insulting - but a 'you're fucking up spiel' - which was significantly less enjoyable and filled the receiver with such shame and embarrassment they considered the different cliffs nearby. During a particularly intense thought she considered the cliffs of Broadchurch, before remembering that was from a television show.

"Don't be daft. You've been a good barista these past few weeks, then that couple comes in and you're dancing like a bee."

"A bee?"

"They dance to communicate," Nina said plainly, as though it was an obvious comparison. Nina was sometimes so in her own head, tracking her own thought process, that she couldn't comprehend why it wasn't someone else's immediate thought as well. It was something her shrink told her to work on.

"Oh, sorry. I, they just rattled me." Y/N tried to ignore the image in her head of Nina moonwalking while firing her or someone salsaing on their way to tell someone their son has tried tragically. It was terribly funny and she was not in a terribly funny sort of mood. Demons and angels did that to a person.

Nina stared at her for a moment, "you a homophobe?"

"Oh! Oh my god, no. Never, that's not what I mean. No, no, no," she was rambling, not knowing what to say and now terrified her boss thought she was a homophone. She tried to consider how to explain to Nina that she wasn't homophobic, she'd just been pulled aside by a literal angel and demon who told her that her soul has been trapped on earth for more than 2,000 years eternally connected to them with their miscommunication and angst, which means that when the world does indeed end in fire she will definitely be there and might not have a place to go after the fact aside from miserable eternity. So she settled on saying something close enough to the truth that Nina wouldn't think she's a piece of shit that should be fired. "They, they made these comments about fate. Eternity and whatever. It wasn't bad, they weren't bad, I just got spooked. Not really religious, didn't know what to think of it."

Nina blinked rapidly and paused, letting Y/N's words sink in. "You're like this cause you're having a crisis of fate?"

"I- I, well yeah. It sounds silly. Just got to me."

"We get missionaries in here all the time, the Mormons won't leave me alone. You gonna be like this every time someone mentions God?"

"No! This is a one time thing, I promise. I'm not usually like this. I think it was the de - redhead, he drank like a lot of espresso and he was talking very intense-like." Whenever she got anxious her language devolved into likes and ums, stutters and little comments that only made sense to herself. She sometimes wished she could press an off button to stop the random shit that just decided to spew from her.

Nina looked at her with a sort of blanket skepticism she carried into each conversation. One of the things Maggie both loved and struggled with. Eventually she nodded, "right, okay. Life gets tough, people throw us off. I get it. I'm gonna send you home today, you're a mess even if it is a one time thing. Next time this happens, you tell me so we can fix it." Y/N's shoulders slumped at being sent home, feeling like she failed Nina. Nina, being surprisingly observant, went to reassure her, "shop closes in an hour anyways. Only one person comes in regularly and it's my partner, I'll be fine."

Y/N nodded, untying her apron and hanging it up. Nina gave her a smile as she left, trying awkwardly to comfort her. She really did appreciate the attempts, even if Nina's somewhat harsh demeanor failed to always communicate that.

Y/N loitered outside the shop for a minute, staring at the antique shop of 'Mr. Fell' who she'd come to realize just a few short hours ago belonged to the actual angel Aziraphale. She should go talk to them. They'd told her to. Aziraphale had insisted that she come over after her shift to discuss this situation more, maybe she could start to recover some of her past memories. She'd gotten a few initially, remembering the ring and Crowley's eyes. Crowley had suggested he just make Nina forget she was working and to let her go freely. While tempted by the demon's offer, she'd only had this job for two weeks and wasn't about to risk it all. Though it clearly wasn't the worst of her problems.

She began to cross the street to the building. It was tall and cute, tucked on a street corner and just old enough to be charming. Windows with drawn blinds teased at stacks and stacks of books, but even without approaching the door she knew it'd have a closed sign. Nina had told her when she first started at the coffee shop that the bookshop was never open, the owner liked having space for his personal library rather than actually selling any of his precious books.

Parked in front of the shop was a black Bentley. It was a vintage style though Y/N knew nothing about the year aside from it was older than 1980, and even then it was a hazarded guess. It was sleek, kept in prime condition. Inside one of the windows there was a film with two bullet holes printed on it, something that made Y/N smile. Her grandfather had one of them as well, said he'd bought it because of James Bond. In the back seat she spotted a cardboard box labeled 'troublemaker' with a plant sticking out of it. It's leaves were wilting. Somehow, without even being told, Y/N knew the Bentley was Crowley's.

She lingered in front of the doors. She wanted to knock, she had to knock, but it was bloody scary to face your entire past, present, and future in one go. But, with bravery unmatched since the laudanum accident in the '30s - the 1830s, that is - she knocked.

Behind the door she heard two voices talking, the deeper grumbling and getting closer as he walked to the door. Then it swung open with a gusto, revealing the shape of Crowley.

She swallowed. He was imposing, tall and thin as he peered down a just slightly crooked nose. His hair was beautifully curled back on his head, though the slightest hairs fell onto his forehead. Though his spectacles covered his eyes, she let out a breath knowing those eyes were still there. His eyes had been a constant in her life.

"We're closed-  oh. It's you." He said, his voice getting hoarse as he stared at her.

"Who is it - oh! Dear, you're here. Come, come in." Aziraphale said from further in the shop, standing with a book in his hands and spectacles on his nose. He looked kind and sweet, back straight and plush, pink lips curved into a smile. Crowley moved aside for her, letting her cross the threshold with anxious steps. He slammed the door shut.

The bookshop was exactly as she expected. Stacks and stacks of slightly dusty book shelves, covered with as many books as possible. There were horrors, romances, histories, science fictions, fantasies and Bibles. A remarkable number of bibles actually. They had a whole row shoved full of copies of the Bible. Y/N didn't feel like analyzing why an Angel would want well over 20 copies of his group's history but who was she to judge? She owned 5 copies of her favorite book, the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Perhaps a little boring as it was a classic, but the story had hooked her since she saw the enamoring - although a slightly questionable choice to be a children's movie - Disney adaptation. One look into the music and she was glued to the story. The shop smelled of vanilla and old books, a combination that helped calm her racing heart.

"Hi," she said softly once she realized the unearthly beings were staring at her expectantly.

"Hi," Crowley said back. He hadn't taken his spectacles off, and she didn't like that.

"I, um, I love the shop. It's so warm."

"I can, err, lower the temperature if you require, dearest," Aziraphale said, wanting to help calm her but not knowing how.

"No, I meant the atmosphere is warm. Like a hug. But t-thank you," she said. Then after a pause she added, "Aziraphale."

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Aziraphale said finally after a long moment where the three exchanged glances at one another, unaware of what to do next. The tension was so thick she briefly wondered if she jumped from a ledge if she’d be caught in it’s stupid bloody web. A weird and kind of stupid analogy but it seemed to bring her back to reality. Silly things always did.

She let out a breath, "fuck yeah."

Crowley chuckled at this, sauntering back to where he'd been sitting by Aziraphale's desk. Aziraphale gave a curt nod and went into some back room. She lingered by the door.

"C'mon over here, I don't bite," he said, taking a sip of wine from a glass she hadn't seen sit on the end table. His posture was sprawled on a comfy chair, one leg hanging over the arm of it.

"I'm beginning to doubt that," she said with a little laugh, grateful for his relaxed energy to bring down some of the tension. She walked over and sat on a sofa that was surprisingly comfortable, letting herself sink into the cushions.

"Only if you ask, darling," Crowley said with a wink. He immediately regretted the wink but tried not to let it show. He was never an intentionally flirty individual so when he did say flirty things, often by accident, he cringed at himself.

But she just flushed at his words and got comfortable on the sofa. She wasn't upset, in fact she shot back with a, "only in your wildest dreams, love." The term love sent his human heart racing and he quickly looked away. Only Aziraphale had made him feel this way and he hadn't even begun to process those emotions, let alone do it a second time for her.

Aziraphale returned with two steaming mugs of tea and a bottle of wine which he promptly handed over to Crowley. She thanked him and sipped the drink, letting out a happy sigh at the cinnamon thrown in. She loved cinnamon.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, his eyes wide and full of concern. "It can be a lot to take in."

"I'll admit I've kind of been in a state of shock. It doesn't feel real. Not that I don't believe you, I mean you did stop time and I remember your ring. It's, it's kind of frightening, actually? If that doesn't sound childish."

"Earth's full of s'frightening things," Crowley said in a strange sort of reassurance.

"Right, well while I appreciate that sentiment, you two aren't from Earth. So it's another layer of frightening."

"Perhaps we could help ease your worry by answering some questions?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have so many, I don't want to waste your time." She said, running her tongue over her lips quickly. She was struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Darling, you aren't a waste." This kind statement came, surprisingly - or unsurprisingly depending who you asked, as Aziraphale watched with a fondness towards a certain demon Y/N couldn't explain - from Crowley. "We could ask you some as well if you'd like. Even the scales a bit."

She blew out a breath, nodding. Her heart was racing inside her chest. Strangely enough she did trust these two unearthly beings, but she didn't know what to do or say. She'd never imagine herself being in a situation like this before, and she couldn't fathom the words. They slid on her tongue but wouldn't come out. So she meekly said, "you first?"

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Aziraphale smiled when he looked into Crowley's eyes, remembering how he and Y/N had agreed they were the demon's best feature. They made him look so kind, even if it seemed a roundabout sort of way. Crowley, on the other hand, was admiring the way Aziraphale guided what felt like such a new and unknown conversation. The Angel took lead with a breath and a kind smile, "what is your favorite dessert?"

Her mouth dropped slightly as her eyes lit up, she hadn't expected such an innocent question. "I- I don't know. I can be quite picky. Maybe Tiramisu? I quite fancy that."

"How lovely! Such a wonderful choice." Aziraphale clapped eagerly, now craving a nice cold Tiramisu with a warm cup of coffee right beside it. And of course water as a palate cleanser. Oh and perhaps -

"What-," she started, then seemed to lose steam. Y/N straightened, setting her mug down and sitting more firmly. "When did you meet me? First meet me?"

Crowley gestured for Aziraphale to start. The Angel began, "we met you in 55BC. You couldn't have been more than 25, maybe a little younger given you were unmarried at the time. Crowley and I went to eat oysters, and you were in a corner crying. Julius Caesar had just announced his invasion on Britannia, and you had a brother and father who were both in the Navy. You worried over their safety. I blessed you eternally, and Crowley cursed you eternally."

"What made you curse me?"

Crowley looked embarrassed, "I wasn't used to the whole cursing thing so it was a surprise for s'both. You tripped over my foot and called me an asshole."

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed slightly. Then she stilled, searching her brain for as much memory as she could. It was hidden in the back of her head, hazy ideas of what happened with no coherent life story. She mused to herself that all those hyper realistic historical dreams she had must have some founding in her experience. Her experience. There was a Y/N that existed out of this body and this name, and she existed over 2,000 years previously. She was a sister and a daughter, she had fears and worries just like she did now. It was a frightening concept.

Crowley seemed to notice Y/N sink into herself, mind moving so quick with all these ideas. He couldn't well tell her not to overthink it because even trying to think about it was overthinking it, but he knew he had to be careful with it. Ease her into the world with little memories here and there. "You like Shakespeare?"

"Oh, I, yes I do. I love Shakespeare's works. I performed in one of his plays in secondary school."

"Which one?"

"Taming of the Shrew," she laughed. "Horrible meaning nowadays, but I was lucky enough to be Katherine. It was fun yelling and banging things up on stage."

Crowley and Aziraphale chuckled, they would have loved to see that performance. They imagined her standing brave, eyes sharp and shoulders pulled back as she spat venomous words to all of the men who dared to stand in her way. She was a passionate woman - time couldn't steal that - regardless of her acting ability, they wanted to see and feel it all.

"Did I ever see Shakespeare?"

"Funny you mentioned it, dearest, but yes. We met you once at Hamlet's rehearsals. You were quite enamored with the stage," Aziraphale looked wistfully into Y/N's eyes. "I know it seems odd to say given the strange circumstances, but it's one of my favorite memories of you. Before I realized who you were, I always thought fondly of the girl who broke in to see a Shakespeare show. You were so excited to be alive and experience life, that can be quite refreshing for an immortal creature."

Y/N's chest felt tight and she tried to swallow the emotion in her chest. She'd been there, seen it with her own eyes with people she didn't know she'd known and would know. The idea of reincarnation, of a soul going through the motions of life forever, haunted her and she suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe. They were being wonderful with her, patient and kind. They knew that the concept of eternity wasn't easy, a brain couldn't wrap around it just right. It was so much, it was too much. She felt trapped and stupid, so stupid - shouldn't she be able to process this? Characters in film and book seem to understand the confusion around them like it was common sense, they don't panic over each thought related to what it is. Her chest was tight, she closed her eyes and tried to fight back tears she didn't know were there. This was too much, why would some God give all of this to humans?

She suddenly felt a hand along her back, gently rubbing up and down. It was Aziraphale, hands large, warm, and consistent along her spine. She released a shaky breath. "Breathe with me, dearest. Inhale... exhale. Inhale..."

Crowley appeared, sitting on the floor and leaning against the coffee table. He pointed to her hand and asked, "May I?"

She nodded and he lifted it, letting his fingers rub mindless circles into her palms. They were short and sweet, running up to her elbow and down to her finger tips. They made her shudder but in the best way.

Her heart started to calm down, the world stopped spinning beneath her. She focused on Aziraphale's warm hands on her back, Crowley's ginger touches to her arm. They were kind and gentle. It made her feel safe, it made her feel appreciated. In the back of her mind she felt those stupid, mindless thoughts about self loathing and incompetence.

Crowley seemed to sense these feelings. Whether he could read her mind or she was just that transparent she didn't know, but he jumped in. "Y/N, it'snot bad to question the universe. The universe is bloody strange, no one can make sense of it."

She opened her eyes now, blinking away the tears, and looked into his. His glasses were still on and she slowly went to remove them, to reveal the eyes she remembered. These eyes were raw, these eyes didn't lie. They were kind to her. She nodded.

"Dearest, if you are comfortable, would you like to take a rest? I have a bed upstairs if you'd like," Aziraphale said. She turned to look to him. His eyes were glassy and his nose pink, as though he was fighting to hold back tears himself. She liked his face, he had a pretty face. Pink lips with a perfect little Cupid's bow on the top, turned up in an attempt at a smile. She could tell he was struggling, wanting to help her.

So she nodded, stood up on wobbly legs and followed after Aziraphale up a winded staircase to a cozy bedroom. It was small, but covered with antiques and precious books on a desk in the corner. A large bed took up most of the room, made up nearly with beige sheets and many, many fluffy pillows. Aziraphale took his time fussing, folding back the sheets and making sure the pillows were just right. She climbed into the bed and laid her head down, smiling in affirmation.

"Now, dearest, we will be right downstairs. You remember that this situation is frightening, you are not wrong. If you need either of us just call."

She reached out for his hand and kissed his palm, muttering "thank you," against his skin. He nodded, flushed cheeks and ears, and hoped for her to sleep well. She closed her eyes, willing to be swept away in a world without fear.

—————

Aziraphale went down the steps quietly, meeting Crowley back where they were. Crowley had put his spectacles back on, sprawling in the chair. However, Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to know that it wasn't as casual as it looked. He could tell by the way Crowley adjusted awkwardly that he, too, was trying to hide his emotions. Aziraphale sat down on the couch where Y/N had sat, his hands on his legs awkwardly before he sighed.

Aziraphale poured himself a glass of Crowley's wine, savoring the sharp taste. Crowley's brows shot up and he smirked, "bad day, eh?"

"I still do not understand the concept of sarcasm."

"It's funny, Angel."

"Hardly, if it was funny I would laugh."

Crowley chuckled to himself, sipping the wine. Aziraphale was so unintentionally hilarious sometimes. He glanced outside the window, peeking through the blinds as the sun started to slip behind the buildings. Crowley wondered vaguely how Y/N was feeling, wondered how they could ever make her feel better. There was no good way out of this situation, it'd never happened before and was certainly not going to happen again.

As Crowley thought about Y/N and the world, Aziraphale was caught thinking about the demon. He thought back to how kind he had been to Y/N, how he'd asked for permission to distract her with light touch. His reassuring words she hadn't asked for but he seemed to know she needed to here. The way he understood how terrifying the prospect of life truly was. Aziraphale had had this thought for a while, but it seemed to suddenly strike him that Crowley truly wasn't evil at all. In fact, he was kinder than most angels Aziraphale knew.

Questions. All it has been to cause Crowley to fall was some questions meant out of kindness. And yet questions were what he encouraged, what he did to help Y/N and help Aziraphale. He asked Aziraphale about anything, knowing how the Angel loved to learn and discover. He prompted him to reach farther, do better, not settle for what is known but look for more. Questions paved the way to understanding, which might not always lead to happiness, but it can settle the soul. Crowley had learned a long time ago that knowing is half the battle, but he'd rather stand half a chance than not at all.

"You were very kind to her," Aziraphale eventually said.

"Ngk, she was s'panicking."

"You didn't have to reassure her."

Crowley made a noise in the back of his throat as though he resented that statement, "yous might say that but when you trap someone to eternity, she deserves ki - not bad stuff."

Almost a dangerous slip up. Crowley was typically very aware of the words he spoke and how it could get him in trouble. Though his affiliation with Hell was pretty much done, they still had the power to torture him need be. No use letting the word out that he could ever be 'kind.' Crowley remembered what life was like after the 1830s, and his back seemed to burn with the memory. Scars that never truly heal, but reform, each step more painful than the last. But that was a moment for a different day, different circumstances.

Aziraphale went to speak, then doubted himself. Then he strengthened, reminding himself that things are different. He was going to make a move. "Crowley, I was planning to read my book. Would you - would you like to sit with me while I do?"

Crowley blinked, not understanding Aziraphale's poorly explained request, "I am sssitting Angel."

"Over here." Aziraphale said awkwardly, gesturing to the space around him.

Crowley didn't understand what Aziraphale meant. On the angels lap? Certainly not, neither of them were ready for that level of intimacy. Right beside him? Perhaps, but Aziraphale patted his thigh so perhaps not. The Angel cleared his throat, "I thought, perhaps, you could rest your head on my lap while I read."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up. Ah. Despite himself his cheeks flushed pink, but he wanted more than anything to fulfill the angel's request. He'd never dreamed that Aziraphale would prompt anything.

They stared at one another, realizing what this meant. In this moment they were acknowledging an unspoken part of their relationship, that they were certainly more than friends or acquaintances and far from enemies. That they might 'fancy' each other, as the humans say. This was their person, and they were wrapped eternally with one another. Crowley knew another fact, they were wrapped eternally with Y/N. And they couldn't make their relationship with her function if they could not understand themselves either. He also knew that Aziraphale looked very handsome, ankles crossed and book posed in hand as he waited for the demon.

Crowley sauntered over, laying closer to the edge so his legs could dangle off the arm. Then he let his head fall on the angel's lap. Aziraphale had very strong thighs, always had. They were warm through his trousers, and all of him smelled of vanilla and old books. Crowley let himself close his eyes, cherishing the warmth and surprising comfort of the position.

He felt soft fingers start to scratch lightly at his scalp, musing with his hair as gently as possible. Crowley let out a small moan at the feeling, Satan it felt good to have your hair played with. Aziraphale chuckled.

"What're you reading?"

"Henry V."

Crowley swallowed before asking, "Can yous read it to me?"

Aziraphale smiled, "of course, darling." He flipped back to the first scene for Crowley's sake. "The chorus sings 'O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest Heaven of invention' ..."

Though they wouldn’t say the words until much later, until emotions seemed to swirl round them and they couldn’t not address it, this was the best way they could say it.

It crossed a demon’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with an Angel.

It crossed an angel’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with a demon.

—————

She woke up the next morning to the sun blinking through the blinds. She hadn't slept that hard in a long time and she let herself wake up slowly, sleep threatening to take her over again. Y/N sighed, that was nice. Aziraphale's room was organized chaos, and as she woke up she let her eyes adjust to all the little things throughout the room. Trinkets.

A snow-globe that looked like early 1900s, multiple copies of Beowulf in various conditions stacked on his desk, a note from Crowley signed with a large signature taped to the wall, a map of England with a pin sticking out of a town called Tadfield. A whole person's history in one collection.

Y/N was significantly calmer this morning that she was yesterday. She'd woken up for a moment during the night and began to let her mind wander to all the possibilities, before stopping herself and falling asleep. Today, she found herself more used to the idea. It was strange, uncomfortable even, but she wasn't panicking.

She got out of bed, rolling her ankles and stretching her body. Her bobble had fallen out during the night and she grabbed it to pull her hair back and out of her face. Then she carefully went downstairs, smelling the warm scent of baked goods wafting its way to her. When she entered a kitchen that seemed hidden behind rooms full of books, she saw Aziraphale in his vest and trousers paired with an apron covered in sweet little hearts.

"Good morning, my dear!" He said when he saw her. He was making some tea and gestured for her to take a seat at the island table while the kettle finished boiling. "How did you sleep?"

"Really well, actually," she said with a little laugh, her voice hoarse from her first words.

He turned to her, smile so genuine it shocked her, "I'm so glad to hear it. I am making us some cinnamon rolls. I've also decided to slice up some apples to go with it, I thought the freshness of the fruit might be nice first thing in the morning."

"That sounds amazing," she said. "Where is Crowley?"

"He said he had some business to attend to. Shouldn't be out long, I assure you, dearest."

She mulled over in mind what 'business' Crowley had. She knew from some of their explanations in the cafe that they don't necessarily work for Heaven or Hell as they used to, they're more or less independent. That left them to live life as they see fit, so what business could a demon have?

"Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything."

He glanced up, surprised. He came over and grasped her hand lightly, "my dear, this is a strange thing that has happened to you. Crowley and I wish to support you."

"If I can ask... why? You could have not told me, you could have continued without dealing with the consequences. I'd have never known."

"We couldn't do that. You didn't choose this, and we did not mean to do it."

"I don't want to be your responsibility, that's not fair either."

He blushed, "It's, err, it's more than that. We want to be with you. In whatever way you'll take us, myself and Crowley. If I may be forward, we've yearned for you for too long to lose you the first time we realize what we have."

"You've not even known me? I could be horrible."

"You are not horrible, dearest. I could feel it if you were. It's ... odd. Our souls are drawn to you and we want you in our lives, even without knowing the details. Both Crowley and I have longed for the woman with the strange encounters throughout time, and we finally found her. The souls are linked, even without reason, and we'll take you in any way we can."

Her mouth dropped open, forming a little shocked 'o.' That was hot. Is that weird to say that was hot? She'd never had a man - granted he wasn't a man just presenting male - confess wanting her, in any way, like that. It made her toes tingle and her heart warm, and she stared deeply into Aziraphale's blue eyes to be certain this was no joke. She knew he was an Angel but she put that aside and looked at him. He said they were drawn to her, and without saying the word implied they'd loved her for years without knowing. She isn't the sort this happens to, she doesn't have creatures who want to know her and understand her like this. It was a pure connection, one built on a link they couldn't understand but knew all the same. Mysterious ways of the Almighty and all. She kept looking into those eyes, searching for any sort of trickery. Despite herself, she knew he wasn't the sort to lie.

The kettle started to screech and Aziraphale pulled away to pour the cuppas, destroying the moment. He slid hers in front of her, just as she likes it. It was delightful.

Y/N watched Aziraphale move around the kitchen. He wasn't a particularly tall man, but he wasn't short either. She let her eyes fall along his strong forearms, revealed by his sleeves rolled to the elbow, lightly dusted with hair. His hands were capable, yet she knew they were soft. He might not be the most conventional sort of attractive, the type that movie stars are, but she was struck by him. Aziraphale had a draw to him that made her blush and glance down, suddenly shy in his presence yet knowing she was safe in who she is.

She realized that she wanted to know more about him, she wanted to hear his stories about his life, regardless of if she was in it. She wanted to know more about his relationship with Crowley, and what they had that seemed to be left unsaid. Y/N couldn't believe the fantastical reality that started playing in her head, a world where she lived and loved a demon and an Angel. Love was getting ahead of herself, she should be more careful. She longed for a good relationship with them, but that didn't mean that it had to be a romantic relationship. But, as she looked back at the Angel she sighed, damn did the Angel have great thighs.

"Dearest?" He asked, eyes wide and mouth just slightly parted as he stared at her.

She glanced down. Her tea had gotten cold and a warm cinnamon roll with apple slices on the side sat in front of her. "O-oh. Thank you."

"Is everything alright?" Damn him for sounding so sincere, blue eyes sweet like candy.

"You won't laugh?" She asked with a small smile, though she'd already made the decision to tell him honestly. She had a feeling lying would not make things easier in this relationship.

"No," Aziraphale answered precisely.

"I was distracted by you. You're so handsome."

Aziraphale seemed to have a little shock, as though he didn't believe that is what she said. "Pardon?"

"I," She laughed softly, embarrassed to revealing that so boldly. Y/N always admired those who were bold, and in the moments it was needed to she would, but she didn't often express those thoughts. Mainly for a fear of being seen as a creep, but also because rejection is a scary thought. But Aziraphale was sweet, and seemed flattered that she thought him to be handsome. "I think you're very handsome. I like looking at you."

His cheeks flushed pink and he took a rushed sip of his tea, "well, thank you darling. I- I hadn't quite expected that. I've been told I'm soft."

She laughed, "so? Soft isn't a bad thing."

"Do you like soft?"

"Sure, I like soft, I like hard. Besides, I believe personality and talent makes a person attractive anyhow, it's not too important what it might look like to society."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, there's plenty of people who look just as the world wants for beauty. And I don't mean to say they're unattractive, they are. But I personally believe that a kind, talented man who might be ugly to the papers is the most attractive you'll encounter. And a mean, untalented man touted as attractive tends to be ugly. Words change appearances."

"You're very wise, my dear," Aziraphale said with a warm smile, placing his hand over hers. She took a shaking breath, looking up at him. He was close to her now, hot breath that smelled of cinnamon hitting her cheeks as a hand lifted near her cheek, "May I?"

She didn't know what he was asking, but she nodded because she knew she'd relish in it all the same. First Aziraphale's hand went to the bobble round her hair, gently releasing it so it fell down. Her scalp itched from the strain, and his fingers gently massaged it. His hands were strong, capable.

She was struck for a moment with a memory that seemed forgotten. Her holding the hand of a kind stranger as she slid a finger onto his finger, the way he'd clutched hers as though he might lose her. They were warm then, kind. These hands had also blessed her when she wasn't looking, guided her safely home, and cared for her at the bank of the river at St James's park. For Aziraphale it was a flash, a mere second as the memories went through her mind but she felt them deeply, surrounding her. She could feel the dirt floor of the Globe theatre beneath her feet, or the way her heart had jumped when she spotted him in 1865. It was overwhelming and beautiful, she saw a whole person's history in her interactions with him, with them. It was stupid, it was silly, but she wanted to know them. She wanted to experience the life she could only remember in fragments.

Y/N hadn't realized that tears had come down her cheeks until those hands that spoke the history came to hold her face. She leaned into his touch, the pads of his thumbs wiping the tears away.

"My dear, may I?" Aziraphale asked, his voice suddenly huskier than she'd ever heard it. Her eyes opened, staring into his. He cried also, gentle tears down his sweet cheeks. She hadn't realized she'd been holding onto his vest.

"Aziraphale... I remember you."

That was the invitation, the consent, he needed. With a gentle sort of ferocity, Aziraphale leaned in and took her lips in his own. It was eager yet restrained as it held her in place, imploring her to feel all that he felt. All 2,000 years of yearning over an unknown idea. She kissed back with an intensity she didn't know she had. She hadn't much kissing experience, not the sort to fancy many people due to her high standards that seemed only met by non-humans, but with each inexperienced stroke she paired it with passion and enthusiasm. He guided her, led her through the kiss with grace. It was like a dance. It was messy at times, noses clashing and tear stained cheeks brushing, but it was perfect. It was Aziraphale and Y/N, and they seemed to understand what the other needed.

They parted from air, their mouths not far from one another's as they let out gasps. Y/N wanted more, this Angel was dangerously close to becoming her own brand of oxygen and that kiss was the best bloody one she'd ever had. Her first was a horrible sort, a lad with no lips and horrible breath.

Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Y/N's lips before pulling away more definitely. They were both right messes. Mouths swollen and pink, cheeks flushed, and hair ruined. Y/N hadn't even realized her hands had gotten buried in those soft curls, and his explored her locks that now hung free. She had a thing for good hair, and it seemed the Angel did too.

"Did - did I overstep any boundaries?" He asked, having to clear his throat. His voice came back to his normal register, though it seemed to ring with suppressed emotions.

"No," she said simply. "You didn't."

Aziraphale blew out a breath, letting his forehead fall against hers with a soft laugh, "I worried, my dear, that that was a rash decision on my part. You have only, technically, known me for two days."

"I've known you for a lifetime, love."

The nickname seemed to roll off her tongue, as it had the other night with Crowley. Comfortable, easy. And Aziraphale tried to stop the way his vessel's heart jumped at the thought of love. Too early, yes.

"Let's eat our breakfast, shall we?"

"I'm starved," she answered back, sitting on a bar stool and pulling her plate towards her. "This looks delightful."

They ate together with small bits of conversation intermixed between flushed glances when they caught the other staring at them. Aziraphale's food was as good as it looked, sweetness baked into a cinnamon delight that made her roll her eyes back. God she could eat this whole. Or, she supposed, she should say Aziraphale she could eat this whole, remove Her from the equation. Soon Y/N realized that she had a shift coming up at Nina's cafe, and needed to run to her flat to change.

"Your apron is at the front, dearest, with your purse from yesterday. We left them untouched."

"Oh, good, thank you Angel."

She went out and grabbed her purse, checking to make sure she had everything she needed. Then she realized her hair falling in her face. "Aziraphale?"

"Hmm?"

"I need my bobble back."

"Your what, dearest?"

"My bobble, hair tie thing. What you took out of my hair."

Aziraphale hummed as he walked into the main area and towards his desk, an odd yet attractive set of glasses on his nose. "I've not the faintest idea what you're talking about, love. Perhaps it fell."

Ah. Unlikely story. Especially unlikely given the bobble now on the angel's wrist. Guess he fancied her hair like that, round her face. She rolled her eyes and made to leave, before hesitating at the door. "Thank you, Aziraphale. For.. for taking me seriously. It's a strange idea, my soul being immortal and what not. I'm struggling to adjust. But I know that I want you and I want Crowley, I want to figure this out."

Aziraphale's chest seemed to lighten at the words and he smiled at the woman standing before him. She was beautiful and calm as she said this, her hair looking radiant. Y/N was quite right, he fancied her hair indeed. "I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. After your shift, if you'd like, you may come back to the bookshop?"

She smiled, "I'd like that. I, I think I'll pop round to my flat after work first to wash my hair. Let me write my number for you."

Y/N quickly scribbled her number on the front page of a very modern copy of Hunchback of Notre Dame, handing it to Aziraphale and saying, "it's my favorite book. Thought this new copy could handle the defacement."

Then she left quickly and the Angel watched her figure race past the door towards her flat, lips still pink from kissing an Angel.

[acaplaya-musings]

VoicePlay Thriller - thoughts/commentary

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh my god that was PERFECT! Unexpected in a few ways, but so amazing! And just enough spookiness and creepiness without actually being scary to me! Honestly I think it's tied with Be Prepared for my favourite VP release of 2024.

Obviously this is getting a VoicePlay Visuals; the video was amazing, I absolutely loved it, and all my concerns were for naught! It's so fun and cool! However, this post is just to share my thoughts on the arrangement and vocals and stuff. All my thoughts about the on-screen stuff are waiting for my proper visual analysis!

More yelling/rambling of mine below the cut!

Oh god, I'm gonna have to make this into a two-part Voiceplay Visuals, aren't I? Like what I did for Classical Chaos. There is so! Much! To talk about!!!

UPDATE: I actually went through and did a sort of "image tally", like just noting down tally marks to make a rough estimate of how many screenshots I might want to include in a post for this (e.g. "I might take one here" or "I might want two pics for this moment" or "I might grab three screencaps from this moment"), and yeah I ended up with just under 60 - this is absolutely becoming a two-part Visuals post.

Right out the gate it started to become clear that VoicePlay absolutely made this song their own (while still definitely "paying respect" to the original), which I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about - this was arranged by Geoff, after all, and he almost never arranges covers to be just a carbon-copy of the original, and this is certainly no exception!

Geoff's bassline is shorter than I thought it would be (not exactly like the original), and starting with vocals right out the gate definitely caught me off guard (UPDATE: actually Geoff's bassline changes and is pretty dynamic in this song and it's amazing actually)

With that being said, I GOT MY WISH!!!! Basically as soon as Geoff began the whole "darkness falls across the land" spiel I think I nearly exploded with joy.

While doing my image estimation tally, I also went back (for like my 5th watch) and took down some notes on the music arrangement and stuff, because this video has a lot of stuff in it, my memory is not always great, and I wanted more to talk about here.

The "I'm gonna thrill you tonight" bit obviously isn't in the start of the original song, but it is in there! Originally it's part of the "filler/adlib" (?) part in between the two halves of the spooky monologue (I don't know fancy song terminology don't @ me)

On the line "you see a sight that almost stops your heart", J removes the word "stop" (he momentarily stops singing, get it?), and then before you've even fully processed that surprise change, he follows it up with a riff down on the word "heart"!

So if you've ever watched the full-length Thriller music video, you'll know that it's a bit "odd" in the fact that it re-orders the parts of the song, so it goes 'verse-verse-verse-monologue-chorus-chorus-chorus', and I'm pretty sure it leaves out the bridge entirely? The album version goes the more typical route of 'verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus-chorus- monologue' (though having a verse after the bridge section is something I feel you don't really see that often in songs nowadays?).

VoicePlay, meanwhile, take a bit of inspiration from both versions of the song, and they go 'verse-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus-verse-chorus-monologue-chorus'. Also, they take the chorus that was originally in between the first and second verses and stick it in between verse 2 and the bridge instead, meaning that we don't get the line "there ain't no second chance against the thing with forty eyes", which is a small shame because that line has always been a memorable one for me, but eh, minor personal hangup, it's no big deal. And the original music video version didn't have that chorus either I'm pretty sure

(Am I just stating the obvious? Perhaps. Am I actually making a point here? No. But this is as much for my own interest as for anything else).

ANYWAY, time for more actual song cover thoughts:

I loved how each person really got a chance to shine in this - everyone got plenty of parts to sing! (Well, except Layne who was just on backing harmonies and beatboxing, but he still very much got to shine on-screen, which I will say more about in my visual analysis!)

After the line "you hear the door slam" there's a percussion sound effect that kinda sounds like something slamming shut!

The lead-in to the first chorus here???? Like the way it goes "cause this is- cause this is- cause this is THRILLER!" with like the muffled audio effect on the first repeat, like dang it's honestly so groovy and funky

"You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller toniiiiight" yeah that was smooth

But seriously THE MONOLOGUE!!!! That was utter freaking perfection; guess Geoff's experience with doing narrations really came in handy, huh? I love the little inflection he put on "to terrorize y'all's neighbourhood" (and yes the "y'all" is part of the original too), I love the groove/percussion behind the second half of it, and of course the spooky/evil laugh at the end of the song is great. Honestly if Layne had arranged this song instead, I feel like he too would have definitely given Geoff the narration bit, because like duh! It's got his name written all over it! Hell, I made a post on my Discord like over two months ago specifically hoping for VoicePlay to do Thriller, and I said that Geoff would be perfect for Vincent Price's narration, and I was right!!!

But yeah everyone brought their A-game for this, this was such a fun arrangement, had me absolutely grooving, and I shall see you in a few days (probably) from when this is posted for my Voiceplay Visuals post for this video!

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝐓𝐖𝐎: spinning out, waiting for you (to pull me in)

PAIRING: jake seresin x f!original character

TAGS: cursing, angst, overthinking, self deprecation, abandonment issues (this part is just hurt the entire time i'm sorry)

A/N: hehe heyyy... so it's been over a year since i revamped this series and over a year since i posted the first part. i wanna apologize for such a huge gap! i got so busy in the last year and i wanted to make sure that this series lived up to the expectations i held in my head when i decided to rewrite it. this part is mostly the aftermath of jake's outburst (jessie's reaction and where jake ended up when the night finished). pls bear with me as i can't guarantee when part three will make it to you :( i appreciate you all so so much! i hope you enjoy the read!

if you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

previous part // masterlist // next part

“I don’t get how you’ve been friends with him for so long. He’s a total dickbag,” Yale said, causing her to let out a breathy laugh. “Something funny, Dice?”

Jessie turned to fully face him, saying matter-of-factly, “Yeah. There is.” He scoffed in return, gaining everyone’s attention, including Rooster who was in the far corner cooling off from the exchange. “He treats everyone like shit, acting like he’s better than all of us. He’s not, and sooner or later he’s gonna get one of us killed.”

The pace of her heart began to quicken and her teeth clenched. “Do you guys even listen to the words that fly out of his mouth?” At this point, she turned to speak to everyone waiting for a response that didn’t come. The room was silent, eyes falling down to the floor or looking blankly at her.

“That’s what I thought,” she started. “I’ll admit what he did crossed the line. He does it often. But a lot of the time he points things out how they are, albeit rather rudely. And what do you all do? You tune him out. He ain’t an angel but would it kill ya to get your heads out of your asses? Maybe then y’all would finally grow up and see past a goddamn callsign.” Her feet carried her out of the room, frustrated at the blank expressions of her fellow pilots even after her spiel. She didn't have time to keep yelling at her peers. Jessie knew the outcome of these kinds of outbursts never ended well. She’d always been his shoulder to lean on after all. But for the first time since they met, he ran away from her. In less than ten minutes, she had already turned the place upside down, but he was nowhere to be found. Her phone was gripped tightly in her hand as she called his cell hoping to hear the sound of a casino jackpot. She thought it was stupid when she found out that it was the ringtone he had set for her. “So I know that it’s you callin’, Jess,” he said.

“His car’s gone,” a voice called from the end of the hall as she came out from the last bathroom she could think to check. She didn't have to look to know who it was, the rasp of his voice giving him away. Hanging her head, she took a seat against the closest wall, her eyes clenched as she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her face. Even as the rhythmic footsteps of boots grew louder and louder, she made no effort to acknowledge his presence. Not until he filled the floorspace next to her. “D’you know why he pushes your buttons every chance he gets?” 

Taking his silence as an answer she continued. “It may not look like it, but he admires the shit out of you. Trust me. I was you. Now look at me. And sure, we’ve known each other for a long time but…” She paused, gathering herself and letting her words sink in. 

“How long have you known him?” he asked quietly, his voice bordering between a whisper and his normal voice.

That made her chuckle. Raising her head, she leaned her chin atop her folded knees. “High school. I quite literally ran into him on my first day. Face first into his backpack. He helped me find my homeroom and then sat right behind me in sixth period. Then it turned out he lived right across the street from me. I tried to ignore him—God, did I try—but he somehow managed to weaseled his way into my life. Now I can’t even imagine living without him by my side.” He hummed at her answer. It was hard to imagine them as little teenagers. It was hard to imagine him as a little teenager. Rooster’s only ever known Jake Seresin as Hangman. His rival at Top Gun. An utter pain in his ass the second they met. The image of a younger version of the man he knew today that flashed in his head was bewildering. 

“All of his bullshit? Trust that it comes from a good place. It’s his way of pushing you to be better. Not that you aren't good at what you do already—you wouldn't be here if you weren't—but there’s always room to improve. He shouldn't have brought up your dad. But everything else? He’s brutal but that’s all tough love.  Because at the end of the day his words won't kill you. The mistakes you make up there do.”

She wiped the dust off of her pants as she stood up. “I know there’s a thousand different ways he can go about it but there’s also a shit load more at stake than being named team leader.”

Quick to leave him to think about what she had said, she beelined it to her car. Once the door shut beside her, she leaned her forehead against the wheel. Images of the day flashed in the darkness of her closed eyelids. The constant failures from each of them on the course. Jake’s instigating. Rooster’s outburst. Her intervention. It all happened so fast. 

As she stopped at the stoplight leaving base, her phone rang. Jessie was quick to grab her phone and flip it over to see the caller ID, her face falling at the name. Answering it, she placed it on speaker and set it down on the center console, her hand rejoining the other on the steering wheel. “Sir, I want to apologize for Lieutenant Seresin today. He was out of line and-”

He cut her off. “It’s alright, Rosales. Lieutenant Seresin’s actions aren't what I’m calling you for.”

Oh. “We’re gonna be holding training off-base tomorrow at the Hard Deck.”

“The Hard Deck, sir?”

“Yes, I need you there at 1100 but the rest of the team’s coming at 1200. No uniforms either, come in civvies. Something you can sweat in.”

“Does Admiral Simpson know about this?”

“No. I’ll fill you in when I see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Dice.”

“You too, sir. See you tomorrow.” At the monotonic beeps, she picked up her phone again in one hand, the other still on the wheel. Even if he hadn't been answering, she wasn’t going to stop trying. 

—

He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there for. All he knew was that the sun was up when he got there and now it was gone, replaced by the white shine of the moon cast along the ocean. Like the setting of the sun, what he knew about his future morphed into a void of uncertainty. But it wasn’t a sudden change. He had felt it happening and chose to ignore it. 

In the twenty-something years he and Jessie have known each other, they've had countless fights and arguments. Not that it was a common occurrence, but they're inevitable even if they're over something so minuscule in hindsight. Today felt different. Maybe he had gone too far. Maybe she’s finally had enough of him. Who was he kidding? He knew this day would come eventually. 

His teammates probably would find it ironic. The famous Hangman being the one left hung out to dry, in his own tears at that. No one else but her knew the actual meaning behind his callsign. She was the one who gave it to him after all. “Don’t worry about them,” she used to say. “You and I know who you are.”

He couldn't get it out of his head. The sharpness of her glare as she stood opposite him. “Why did I do that?” he repeated countless times to himself. Maybe it was just because he could. Or maybe it was envy. His own voice echoed around his skull, overlapping itself and overtaking his senses. 

It’s all your fault.

She hates you now.

You deserve to be alone.

Not good enough.

Fuck-up.

Coward.

That’s what he was. A coward. Too scared to own up to his feelings. Too scared to own up to his actions. As Hangman he felt invincible. Everyone believed their own story, and he played along, hiding behind a reputation he wasn't even sure how he got. The only person to ever see past it was Jessie. In the milliseconds his walls came crumbling down in front of everyone, they caught a glimpse of who he really was. It was fight or flight and in the end, Jake Seresin always chooses flight. 

The sudden seagull squawks pulled him out of his head. The beach was empty now, the footsteps of other people long washed away by the waves that crashed ashore. He still had to go to work the next morning, and he had been out here long enough. Dusting all of the sand off of his clothes that he could, he took one last deep breath as he stared into the open ocean in front of him. Tomorrow’s a new day, Jake. 

Ever since he had taken Amelia home for Penny, he spent a lot of time around the Benjamins. Penny started letting him hang around the house to help her daughter with her homework. Sometimes she'd even invite him over for dinner. In less than a couple days of being back in San Diego, Jake had become an honorary member of the Benjamin family. Sure, he could just go to the Hard Deck to decompress but that was where everyone else went. He didn’t want to torture the squad more than he had to. To his surprise, Penny didn’t hesitate to give him a copy of her house key. Albeit, it was followed by a threat that went along the lines of You so much as break anything or do something stupid in my home or I swear to God. She already knew he wouldn’t do such a thing but it was just funny seeing his face get all white. So when he showed up at her front door that night, his eyes red and puffy, there was no hesitation to let him in. He lost count of how many times he had thanked her as she grabbed some extra linen and pillows and clothes to change into. He didn’t deserve her kindness.

He didn't remember plugging in his phone last night. He didn't even remember asking Penny for a charger to borrow. But there it was, plugged in on the side table of the living room. He only went to look at it to see what time it was but the sight of the dozens of missed calls and unanswered text messages stopped him in his tracks—all of them from Jessie. Text after text. Missed call after missed call. But there was only one voicemail. 

I know you’ve seen my texts and my calls and I know you're ignoring me. 

Despite her being merely a recording, they took a deep breath in unison. Jake’s hand roughly rubbed over his face as she continued to talk.

If you had answered any one of my calls earlier, I probably would have yelled at you. What you said was beyond fucked-up. You had no right to say any of that, Jake. But I know you. I know you need your space right now but don’t shut me out, alright?

Her voice was quiet now, as if she was trying hard for it not to falter. With his eyes shut, he could practically see her trying to maintain her composure. 

Anyways, Mav wants all of y’all at The Hard Deck at 1200 in civvies. Don't dress up though, we’re working out. I think—I don't know, that’s all he told me. Just in case you don't actually listen to this, I texted it to you too amongst the hundreds of the other texts I sent so you better show up. I love you, bub.

When the message ended, he looked at the time stamp. Midnight. Only five hours ago. Jake threw his phone aside and ran his hands over his face, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It would’ve been fine if things went right back to normal. Well, not entirely fine, but he liked it when his day had structure. It made everything easier. What had happened yesterday and the apparent change in today’s training agenda just left more room for things to go wrong—for him to mess up again. Just the thought of facing everyone sent his mind into overdrive. 

He hadn’t realized how long he had sat in that same position for. The early morning quiet of the Benjamin house allowed him to get lost in his never ending thoughts. He was sure only a few minutes had passed but the sound of footsteps drew him out of his daze. It was then he realized he had been practically staring a hole into Penny’s carpet for the last two hours. 

“Morning, Jake,” Penny greeted, a hot cup of coffee in her hands. “Hope the couch wasn’t too bad.”

He accepted the cup and hummed as he took a sip. “It was fine, Pen.” He took a breath. “Thank you… for letting me crash here. M’sorry for showing up so late, but I didn’t-”

She took a seat next to him. “No need to apologize, sweetie. I understand.” Jake’s head hung as he stared at and fiddled with the cup in his hands. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

He hesitated. “You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“I brought up Goose,” he interrupted quickly. At his admission, Penny took a deep breath and sighed. Despite losing touch with Maverick for a while, she knew what had happened over thirty years ago. How it affected everyone. How it still affects everyone. “I don’t know why I did it. I know how fucked it is but I just- Fuck.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t apologized yet.”

“How could I? I threw his dad’s death in his face,” he shrugged, placing his coffee cup down before throwing his face in his hands. “He’s probably gonna sock me on the spot—not that I don’t deserve it.” Jake took a breath as he tried to compose himself as his eyes started to water.

“No one’s perfect, Jake. Not Maverick. Not Rooster. Not you. We all make mistakes. Some we regret, some we don��t. You obviously regret this one so make up for it. No more running.”

Before she could say any more, Amelia jogged into the living room. “Mom, what’s for- Oh, hey, Jake.”

“Hey, Ames,” he greeted with a small smile on his face as he wiped his eyes. “Didn’t make anything today, kiddo. Go pour yourself some cereal, okay?” The young girl lingered for a second as she looked at her mother and Jake before turning around and heading for the kitchen. No more running.

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[allwormdiet]

Agitation 3.6

I've known girls in real life who had conversations very close to the one in this chapter. High school was weird.

I like this spiel from Lisa, actually. It explains how she's able to make sense of this world that she's been plunged into, and it does a decent job explaining the status quo of the setting

Ordinarily I'm leery of "a hero is only as good as their villains" but in the context of parahumans it makes a kind of sense. The Protectorate is in good when their heroes are doing important or flashy things, and important stuff isn't happening all the time which means that flashy fills in the gaps.

This is what everyone calls the "unwritten rules," right? Or at least part of it? The phrase hasn't come up in the text yet but that's what I see it as all the time, so I suspect that wording will come up at some point or another. Unless it comes up in a Reddit post in which case fuck me I guess.

It's an interesting concept, but of course it only works as long as everybody plays ball, doesn't it, and there's no guarantee of the good guys or bad guys sticking to it if they think they can get away with it

This actually made me laugh the first time through. Lisa is just like "girl why are we talking about the Endbringers, what is UP"

Also interesting that this chapter is the first time the Endbringers are coming up, and bringing them up at all is... not quite a faux pas, but certainly off-kilter, at least if Tattletale is anything to go off of

I feel bad for Taylor, but it's a little bit her own fault again for the whole "premeditated betrayal" thing

More concerning is the fact that two Undersiders being murderers isn't like. More public knowledge? This feels like another instance of the Protectorate not being as loud about a potential threat as they could be, although maybe it's not too far off from the cops-and-robbers thing like Lisa's speculating and they don't want the team to start escalating in response. I assume we'll find out at some point, but for now another doubt to plague Taylor, not that those seem to stop her

Still funny she refuses to include Rachel as one of her new friends, though

This is really cool of Lisa actually, lifting up someone who is unironically down in the doldrums... and I continue to wonder how much she knows bc if she's giving this pep talk to an aspiring hero who intends to betray her and the rest of her team? Oh my god.

...I swear I'm gonna get to a Lisa POV and immediately keel over from whatever emotional overload it does to me

These kiiiiiiiiiids

This bank robbery is gonna go so smoothly, and absolutely zero repercussions will arise in the wake of this that shape the entire world forever

It's gonna be great

Current Thoughts

Kind of short, or at least it feels short, but I don't know what else could've been added here.

This is the first time we've seen Taylor and Lisa on their own together and it's a fun dynamic, although I imagine it'll be more fun when Taylor feels more comfortable around the friggin psychic next to her

Can't wait to watch these two girls be so normal about each other as the story progresses

Anyway, holy shit, the bank job already. Let's fucking go.

[arogustus]

Fictober 2024: Splatband Edition

Fandom - Splatoon - No Warnings

22. Why are we doing this again?

Namida was a go with the flow gal. She wasn’t one to ask questions or question authority, despite the last time, she just took her keytar, touched up lyrics and notes, and then shredded her heart out in front of a crowd till the sun and moon set.

She hadn’t done much of that for the past few months… year… years. But hey, she could apply that philosophy anywhere! Hasn’t backfired yet!

“That suit looks good on ya, soldier. You’re looking like a real secret agent already!” The old man in the manhole, who she had spotted and engaged in pleasant conversation with as one did with all sewer people, nodded in satisfaction as she walked out of the changing booth in the “army uniform” he handed to her just now.

It came after a spiel that she had admittedly zoned out through for the entire duration. His beard was so jiggly it was mesmerizing. Why couldn’t she grow a beard? Who did she have to complain to for this transgression?

“And here ya go, squiddo, your service weapon.” The sewer man handed her a splattershot, a fancy looking one she’d never seen before. Certainly not Turf Approved. It looked like it could kill.

She mimed some shots with the thing, posing like a secret agent. Now this is what she needed, some field work to take her mind off of unimportant things, like how Front Roe was a poorly held together attempt at recapturing the past. This was gonna be good.

“You look fine and ready to start fighting the Octarian Menace, squiddo! Time to make Inkopolis proud.”

A record scratch in her brain, loud enough that it could be heard outside it if it were physically possible. Octarians? Menace? Fighting them? 

She decided to ask, trying to not show the sudden nervousness at the thing she had just signed up to do. “Uh, ehe, why are we doing this again? The agent thing?”

The sewer man was more than happy to explain, patting her on the shoulder like he was talking to a good friend. “We gotta keep the Octarians in check somehow, squiddo. Patrolling, fighting any stragglers trying to get out, stealing the power sources they stole from us to power their domes! All for the sake of protecting Inkopolis!”

Oh. Ooooooh nooooo, she just signed up to oppress people, didn’t she? “Uhhh, would it be rude to say I wanna back out now? See, I left my Murasaki in the oven and i gotta check on him in case he, ya know, overcooks-”

“Hah! Ya got a funny sense of humor right there. Can’t back out till at least a full year of service. Says so on the contract.”

Poor Namida stood frozen, glassy eyed smile remaining as the sewer man prattled on. Oh, Girl From Planet Namik. You just conscripted yourself. 

She was gonna be so late for band practice.

[evita-shelby]

They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 19

Cw: Chester Campbell is his own warning, mentions of sex and male masturbation

@justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings

Eva is not happy to find changes.

Clemens had been made to retire and in his place was the blue-haired daughter of Caesar Flickerman.

The mentor had met her before, seen her with bubblegum pink hair as a ten-year-old who was dying to meet her, as the piss yellow haired young woman emulating her father backstage in the 72 before going off to something called University.

Now 24-year-old Julia Pontia ‘Jewel’ Flickerman was at her doorstep with a new stylist ---Eva has had three or four of these after firing Tigris--- and a camara crew. The crew she knows, Cressida, Castor, Pollux and Messala. They had gotten assigned to her by the rebels to keep communication with the those in charge.

“I was so excited when daddy told me he’d found me a job! I couldn’t believe I’d be working with you!” she squeals clasping her lily-white hands-on Eva’s shoulders and even jumped in excitement.

Clemens wasn’t even old. He was only six years older than Eva, there was no way the retirement age of escorts was thirty-seven.

But Snow must’ve suspected something was up when a meat shipment to 12 was suspiciously heavier than it should’ve been. Luckily Jack hadn’t been escorting it there or he would’ve gotten caught.

Snow knows not to trust her; he knows someone on her team is part of the rebellion and only guessed half-right by removing Clemens. Only Clem hasn’t been the middleman in ages and his friendship with Livia goes as far back as their childhood.

“We shared the cabin with an Inspector Peacekeeper, such a bore with his ‘we provide order and civilization to the districts’ spiel.” The girl’s incessant chatter suddenly produces something useful. Thank goodness she was as loquacious as her parents; else Eva wouldn’t make good use of her.

Too well-known to fire, too ignorant to be a threat and Eva’s not in the habit of killing people despite her penchant for deadly tricks.

“Oh, really, I’ve never heard of such a division.” Eva doesn’t hide her interest; this was unheard of here. Jack said 2 and 1 one had them, snooping around keeping them in line and appearing all united for the Capitol.

He knew several, from his time as a shit-stirring teen and now as a gang leader. Eva heard of one in the Capitol on Luca’s payroll, but never met one in person.

“Inspector Campbell said they only assign them to districts for matters of utmost importance. I think it’s some rebel activity because of the Games.” Julia supplied readily wanting to be friends with her like some are with the mentors.

Eva should exploit that, for their advantage, but she knows there is a trap here somewhere. Snow wouldn’t have sent this girl here.

She’s gonna have to find time and a way to communicate safely in her presence. She may have to keep Jack away until they know what to do with her. Laurie loves talking about his dad, as far as the Capitol knows he only met him last year, but one wrong word from a babbling five-year-old could get them all killed.

Fuck.

They only have to keep Jewl away from the baby until they leave.

There is still another hour before the Reaping takes place in 10, all Reapings take place at noon. However geography makes it an hour after 12, 11, 8, 3 and 6. 10 and 9 have it at the same time, 2 and 1 has it an hour after theirs and share their zone with the Capitol, 4, 5 and 7 have it two entire hours after hers being the last ones.

She knows the Inspector won’t wait until the games are over to corner her, so when the old man finds her as Cressida readies her team.

“Miss. Smith.” The man does not wear a Peacekeeper’s uniform like the others, no he wears a tailored suit and a hat with that sinister and refined air that only a Capitol turd possess.

“Inspector, how are you finding 10?” Eva keeps things civil no matter that thing about him that makes her skin crawl. Cressida said he had a fearsome reputation and Pollux refused to remove his helmet out of fear. The best Rebel Catcher in Panem, Castor has supplied.

“In need of regulation and tighter security, I am sure you know why I am here, ma’am.” He speaks to her as if she’ll shake in her boots and spill it all, but he’s shit out of luck.

“Ah yes, the vanishing meat. Things have been so boring lately it’s the talk of every town. Even the villages in the south have heard about it and they live in the jungle.” Eva doesn’t mean to turn up the charm and flirt as if he were another client she had to schmooze, but alas its second nature to her. “If there is something I can help with, Inspector, please let me know.”

Better he thinks her a slut than a rebel.

Snow knows damn well what he’s doing, Jack’s going to have a difficult time coming to visit until they get rid of this pig. There was going to be something waiting for her at the Capitol, a punishment just for her.

“Places, everybody!” Jewel claps excitedly as the children selected for this year’s reaping are herded into place and beams at Matty who offers his arm to the blue haired girl like a gentleman. “Oh, lucky me, poor old Effie has told me horror stories about that Victor of hers.”

“I believe the matter will be settled before the Games end, ma’am. If it persists, be sure to expect me at your homes when you return.” The inspector tipped his hat and yet her peace of mind doesn’t return.

The farm has too much of Jack to deny his presence. Clothes, toiletries, a toolbox he brought from 2, candy and even pictures of them together that his sister developed in the privacy of her apartment.

They will have to up their game, if this man is a terrible as the crew says he is they are in deep shit. But at least 13 have gained needed substance and ensured their safety for when the time comes.

Despite Jewel accidentally dropping Hela’s name slip and mispronouncing Danilo’s name, the fact that they all leave in a train instead of the back of a peacekeeper’s truck makes the damn thing a success.

Cato is too much like he was.

Brash and arrogant, skilled and truly believing in all that glory bullshit. Jack had trained him, just like the kid before him. Both were the best in their class, but he lacks what the girl from 12 and even Jack did when he first one his games: a real need to survive.

Jack had not wanted to go to prison for driving a stolen car into a shop and vandalizing said shop. He had heard it was the easiest way to get into the games, but he hadn’t been told that it was because it was your only option if you had prior felonies and several other crimes to charge you with.

They didn’t expect him to win, they just wanted to keep crime down.

He was the spare, Laurie was always meant to be the Star of the Show.

Cato was the Laurie of his generation. His genes manipulated like his twin’s had been to produce the perfect victor too.

The kid was going to die. Just as Clove would too.

Jack pities the boy who thinks the papers they fill out for their burials are a useless formality. He doesn’t know he will die just like his twin did.

“Can we talk?” Eva approaches him when they are dropping off the paperwork for the tributes and he follows her to the supply closet they know is not recorded, and they will do their best to pretend they only fucked in there.

Better they believe they are two horny friends fucking each other’s brains out than conspiring against the government.

He hasn’t been able to visit as often as he had hoped, his pass had been marked as offline last time he tried. Then there was the investigation because of the missing crate his and Shelby’s men had gotten to 13.

Last time he saw his wife, he’d been promised she’d keep Paquito in his cage after the little fucker pulled on his earring with unmistakable glee. If he’d known the green bird was going to be a problem, he wouldn’t have suggested they get Laurie the bird he saw in the flea market.

That had been in June. Six weeks since he’s seen her, felt her and fucked her.

Six weeks ago, they began talking about a human addition to the family. He wants her off the roster and she claims her cards say their next one will be a girl.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you and Laurie.” Jack took her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily.

 Six weeks relying on his hand and that video in his helmet of them playing cop and rebel in her kitchen had him losing his mind right now.

“They sent an inspector.” Eva says in between kisses as she gives into the need for him. They’ve been too used to being together every two or sometimes three weekends at the farm, once a week when his badge worked.

“I’ll buy him off, what’s the pig’s name?” He knows most of the cops in poorer districts are easy to buy off, this one would fold like the rest.

His girl isn’t even helping him unbuckle his belt. The sooner he knows which crooked piece of shit is keeping him from his wife the sooner the victor can assure his wife it’s not as serious as they think.

They only have this game to make baby Isabel Nelson.

“Chester Campbell. Cressida says he is bad news. The one who tortured Pollux.” Those words have the same effect as a barrel of ice water.

Jack had never told Eva about him.

The man had been after Jack since the Victor had been a gang’s foot soldier for kicks. Campbell had collected every little thing on him and then goaded him into volunteering on the 60th reaping or going to prison for racketeering.

He was known for something else. Something his own mother thinks he doesn’t know.

The plea deal didn’t come free and the bruises on her neck didn’t come from a mugger.

There was no mistake in this: Snow was onto them.