#or didn't actually enjoy hanging out with me

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 4

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 8.6k

A/N: This really somehow turned into a serious lmao. God bless ✈️ anon. I’m thoroughly enjoying writing this one and I’m excited to see where I can take it next. Anything specific people wanna see?? Leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼

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After that night their conversations become effortless and automatic. What was once occasional text over a span of a few days here and there now turned into good morning messages, updates throughout the day, and late-night conversations that stretched longer than either of them intended.

Azzi quickly learned that Paige wasn’t actually that bad of a texter–when she wanted to be. It just took a little extra effort. Sometimes, though, she still slipped up, forgetting to reply for hours. When that happened, Azzi would call her, barely waiting for Paige to pick up before saying, “Text me back, genius.”

Paige would mumble out a sheepish, “My bad,” rubbing her eyes. But then, everytime without fail, she’d add, “You look pretty today,” her voice turning soft.

Azzi would roll her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile before hanging up.

A few seconds after hanging up, Azzi’s phone would buzz with notifications from Paige—each one carefully addressing everything Azzi had mentioned. It was clear Paige was paying attention, making sure to answer everything, even if it was something small like, "I just got Dairy Queen!" or "I found that song you were talking about."

The Facetimes, once a source of mild resistance from Paige, quickly became something she didn't mind at all. She didn’t grumble about how she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, Paige would simply answer and just prop her phone up and go about whatever random task she was doing, talking with Azzi as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Whether it was shooting in the gym, organizing her room, or just lounging around, Paige would keep the conversation light, letting Azzi watch her move through the motions of her day. And even on days where Paige wasn’t the most animated during their calls, a little spaced out, Azzi could still hear the underlying affection in her voice when she did say something—the way her words were always just a little softer compared to when she talked to everyone else, a little more personal.

Azzi found herself completely captivated by how Paige’s personality started to shine through in their everyday conversations. At first, Paige had always come across as a bit reserved, quiet, especially when surrounded by others–and honestly she still was. But in their moments alone, whether it was through text or FaceTime, Paige’s true colors began to emerge. Azzi had never expected her to be this way–honestly. Paige was a little obnoxious at times, cracking jokes that made Azzi laugh out loud, even when she tried to keep a straight face. Paige could be playful and sarcastic, the type to tease Azzi for the tiniest things, but it was never mean-spirited. It was endearing.

But what Azzi adored most was how gentle and observant Paige was. It was like she had a way of noticing the smallest details, even when she didn’t say anything about them. Whether it was how Azzi would get distracted by the simplests things, or how she picked up on subtle changes in Azzi’s mood, Paige seemed to have this innate ability to read between the lines.

The way these traits blended together–Paige being confident that was borderline cocky at times, a little obnoxious, funny, yet so thoughtful and perceptive–shouldn’t have worked as well as they did, but it was perfect. It was her. And Azzi was starting to realize just how much she loved it. There was something about Paige’s complexity, the contradictions of her personality that made her unique. With every conversation, every little moment, Azzi found herself falling for Paige Bueckers.

Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi. Maybe it had been the night after the USC game, when she sat there in the hotel room, unraveling a part of herself she had never shared with anyone before. When she told Azzi about the accident—some of the details, the conflict she felt all the time, the way she had spent so long resenting the world for what happened but thanking God that it wasn’t worse. And instead of offering empty words or hollow reassurances, Azzi just was—solid, there asking Paige what she needed instead of offering up what she thought she needed to hear. Somehow, within seconds of laying it all out, Azzi had brought her peace. A kind of peace Paige hadn’t even known she was searching for with a simple story about cutting her little brother's hair.

Or maybe it was in the hallway that same night. When she admitted she’d miss Azzi, the words feeling heavier than they should’ve. And Azzi, instead of overcomplicating it, just pulled her in, giving her something to hold onto, a quiet reassurance.

But then sometimes Paige thinks it was the next morning. When Paige, still groggy, had opened her door to find Azzi standing there in full UConn gear, clearly about to leave the hotel. Paige had barely mumbled out a good morning before Azzi stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world and handed Paige a coffee, as if she knew that the blonde didn’t sleep much that night.

So yeah, Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi Fudd. But she knew that she had and she knew it happened when she was in California. She knew that she liked how Azzi made her feel. How Azzi made the world seem a little brighter. Like sunshine and rainbows as Paige would often sarcastically say when Azzi told her to cheer up.

Right now Azzi was lying in her bed, her phone propped up against her pillow as she absentmindedly toyed with the drawstring of her hoodie. Paige, on the other hand, was sitting at her desk, hunched over doing—well, Azzi wasn’t sure what exactly.

Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen. "So, how was your LSU visit?"

Paige snorted, not even looking up. "It was alright."

Azzi raised a brow. "Alright? So… no?"

Paige finally glanced at her phone, looking at Azzi before smiling a little saying, "Not my vibe, is all."

Azzi smirked, shifting onto her side. "I feel like you say that about every team except UConn."

Paige leaned back in her chair, smirking right back. "Maybe I said it about UConn too. I just wouldn’t tell you."

Azzi’s jaw dropped at this. "That’s rude."

Paige just shrugged, clearly unbothered as she went back to whatever she was doing at her desk.

Azzi squinted at her. "What are you doing over there?"

Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair again, throwing her pencil down on the desk. "I’m trying to do a sudoku."

Azzi snorted. "Why?"

Paige shrugged again.

Azzi’s lips curled into an amused grin as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Since when do you do sudoku?"

Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face before resting her chin in her palm. "Since today. And probably not after today."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Let me see."

Paige picked up her phone and angled it toward her desk. The screen showed a sudoku puzzle that looked… well, disastrous. Numbers were scratched out at the bottom, some squares had been filled in and erased multiple times, and at least one spot had what looked like a tiny doodle in the corner.

Azzi covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. "Oh my God."

Paige rolled her eyes but smirked. "Okay, mathlete. Relax."

Azzi grinned. "Do you even know the rules?"

"Yes, I know the rules," Paige said. "I just don’t know why there are so many numbers."

Azzi blinked. "Paige… that’s literally the point of sudoku."

Paige let out a deep sigh, tilting her head back. "See? This is why I don’t try new things. I need to just stick to dribbling a basketball."

Azzi hummed. "What’s got you trying new things, then?"

Paige shrugged as she pushed back from her desk and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Azzi watched as the hem of Paige’s shirt lifted, revealing parts of her toned stomach. She hadn’t meant to stare, but—okay, maybe she had a little.

Paige smirked, catching the way Azzi’s gaze lingered. She picked up her phone, bringing it closer to her face. "You’re a pervert."

Azzi scoffed. "I literally didn’t even do anything." But there was a slight smile on her lips, giving her away.

Paige dropped back onto her bed, lying on her side with one arm propped under her head. "You didn’t have to," she mumbled, eyes locked onto Azzi’s through the screen.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, shifting onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. "Oh? So now I’m just guilty by association?"

Paige’s smile deepened. "More so guilty by intention but sure."

Azzi let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You’re actually the worst sometimes."

Paige tilted her head. "Am I really?"

Azzi caught the shift in tone, the playfulness turning into something a little more intentional. She pressed her lips together, debating for a second before deciding—fuck it.

"Mhm," Azzi hummed, trailing a finger along the edge of her phone as she watched Paige closely. "But I think you like it that way."

Paige licked her lips, her gaze flickering over Azzi’s face. "Maybe."

Azzi bit her lip, her voice turning softer. "You’re a little smug for someone who just got roasted over sudoku."

Paige grinned. "Mmm course I am, look at how you’re lookin at me."

Azzi exhaled a short laugh. "You’re so annoying."

Paige’s smirk didn’t waver as she said, “No I’m not."

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way her cheeks warmed. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"I could give you a few ideas."

Azzi blinked, her breath catching just slightly. Paige was really pushing it now.

She swallowed, tilting her head. "Oh yeah?"

Paige nodded, her fingers idly playing with the ring she always wore on her finger. "Mhm. But I think you already know."

Azzi let out a slow breath as she shifted. "You sure you can handle me?"

Paige huffed out a chuckle as she licked her lips. "I think I already showed you I can handle you just fine, Azzi."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her stomach flipping at how Paige was looking at her through the screen—like she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how she was making her feel.

Azzi bit her lip, her voice softer now. "I miss you."

Paige’s expression softened just slightly, but then, before Azzi could get too caught up in the moment, Paige smirked again. "You’re just horny."

Azzi’s eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock. "Paige!"

Paige just chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. "What? Am I wrong?"

Azzi narrowed her eyes, though the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re disgusting."

Paige propped herself up on her elbow, tilting her head as she studied Azzi through the screen. "I’m just saying… you’re looking at me like you want something."

Azzi huffed, shifting onto her back as she threw an arm over her face for a second before peeking at Paige again. "And what if I do?"

"Then I guess I’d have to do something about it next time I see you."

God, Azzi wished she hadn’t asked that question because now she was warm and uncomfortable, and the worst part was—she knew Paige knew. The way she was chuckling on the other side of the screen, made Azzi squirm even more.

Azzi groaned. "Paige, please."

Paige hummed, all teasing. "Hm?"

Azzi hesitated, debating whether she was really about to ask for help with her… situation, but before she could get the words out, there was a knock on Paige’s door.

Paige’s head moved toward it, her smirk fading slightly. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open, and Drew peeked inside. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Paige’s expression shifted instantly—her playfulness replaced with something softer, more serious. She sat up, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah, course." She scooted over on her bed, making space for him near the wall.

Reaching for her phone, she looked down at the screen, her gaze apologetic. "I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’ll text you in a sec."

Azzi shook her head, completely understanding. "Don’t apologize."

Paige gave her a small, grateful smile before they both hung up, leaving Azzi lying there, staring at the ceiling—still warm, still uncomfortable, and now, very much alone with the feelings.

Or at least she thought she was alone—until her phone buzzed a few times.

Azzi grabbed it from beside her, her brows raising slightly when she saw Paige’s name on the screen. She unlocked her phone, and the second she saw what Paige had sent, she felt her stomach tighten.

The pictures weren’t anything too overly suggestive, but they were enough.

Some were mirror selfies—Paige’s sweats low on her hips, her stomach on display, a sports bra the only thing covering her top half. Others were clearly taken after being in the gym, her skin still slightly flushed, her hair damp, the definition in her arms pronounced.

Azzi chuckled when she got to the last one—a hand pic.

All the pictures were followed by a message. "Get yourself right."

Another buzz. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I got you next time."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her entire body warm, her face buried in her pillow as she groaned.

Somehow, even when she wasn’t physically there, Paige still had her in a chokehold.

Still, Azzi followed directions. She sighed, shifting against her sheets, wishing—aching—that it was Paige’s hand instead of her own.

…

Back in Minnesota Paige lay still beside Drew, both of them staring up at the ceiling, their arms thrown behind their heads in near identical positions as they laid in silence for a few minutes. It was almost uncanny how much they looked alike when you really looked at them, their features reflecting off one another from the dim glow of Paige’s bedside lamp. Drew had gotten older, taller, but in moments like these, Paige was reminded that he was still her little brother—the same kid who used to follow her around with wide eyes, hanging onto every word she said.

The silence stretched between them, Paige figuring Drew was just taking a while to fall asleep. Then, Drew said something.

“That girl you’re always talking to,” he started, his voice quiet but still confident, like Paige had taught him.

Paige turned her head slightly, already knowing where this was going. “Her name’s Azzi,” she corrected, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Drew hummed in acknowledgment. “Is Azzi the reason you’re leaving?”

Paige blinked, caught off guard for a split second before she turned her head to look at him. She studied him for a moment, the way his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her answer. With a sigh she said, “You know how when you were younger and we always talked about you coming to my games when I got to the league?” she asked.

Drew simply nodded.

Paige exhaled, glancing back up at the ceiling. “That can’t happen if I stay where I’m at now.”

Drew was silent for a moment before he mumbled, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle. “You and Dad are moving to the DMV. I’ll be one call away, I swear.”

Drew turned his head, watching her carefully before he finally asked, “So you’re going to UConn?”

A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go to UConn.”

Drew studied her for another moment, then asked, “Have you told them yet?”

Paige sighed, shaking her head. “No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

Paige turned her head to look at him again, a different kind of warmth settling in her chest. She smirked slightly before answering. “I gotta tell Azzi first.”

Drew’s lips twitched into a grin as he turned onto his side, finally facing the wall to go to sleep. But not before adding, “You like her, huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, but the smirk never left her lips. “Man, shut up. You’re supposed to be in here going to bed.”

Drew just laughed as he pulled the cover over his head to go to sleep.

Paige grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her fingers lingering over it for a moment before unlocking the screen. She chuckled softly when she saw a message from Azzi sent just three minutes ago. The message was simple, just a “Thank you.” Paige huffed out a quiet laugh when she saw the period.

She quickly typed out a response, her fingers moving without hesitation: Yup. After a brief pause, she added one more message, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she typed: Goodnight beautiful.

She read it over once more, her heart skipping just a little at the words before she locked her phone and set it back on the table. Paige turned off the light and settled into bed, pulling the covers up over her.

She stayed still for a while, her hands tucked behind her head, staring out the window that was across from her bed. The sudden quietness of the room seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through her mind, each one more tangled than the last.

She couldn't help but think of Drew, her little brother, and the way he'd come crawling into her bed tonight, like he’d done so many times before–seeking comfort from the chaos of his own thoughts. Her heart ached just thinking about it. She’d been around for every significant moment of his life, his constant lifeline, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving him behind, even if it was for the right reasons.

But then, as if the universe was constantly reminding her of the duality of her life, another thought would emerge: the weight of her future, the pressure to fulfill a dream she’d been chasing since she could walk. She wanted to go back to the notoriety she used to have, not because of the attention it gave her, but because of what came with it—the ability to give her family the life they deserved, to give back. To provide for Drew, her dad, her mom.

Paige sighed softly, her body sinking deeper into the mattress, as she tried to will her mind to quiet for just a moment so she could fall asleep. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the thoughts kept coming. She knew it would take time, a lot of effort, and maybe even more sacrifice to make everything fall into place. But for tonight, she just wanted a break from the weight of it all. Just a few minutes of peace. She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath as she tried to empty her mind, willing herself to relax.

It wasn’t long before another thought slipped into her head—Azzi. This time, instead of adding weight, like everything else, it brought a sense of comfort. Azzi wasn’t like anyone else in Paige’s life. Thinking about Azzi didn’t tighten her chest or add more confusion to her already overwhelming thoughts. When her mind drifted to Azzi, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Because she knew Azzi didn’t expect anything from her. Azzi wasn’t asking Paige to be anyone but herself—she didn’t have any preconceived notions about who Paige used to be. The girl on the other end of those late-night Facetimes only knew Paige from what she’d shared. The thoughts she had were based on the present, not some past version of Paige.

That was the thing that should've terrified Paige. She wasn’t used to feeling so... seen, without the weight of what others thought she should be or the pressure of always having to do the right thing. Azzi didn’t ask for any of that. The simplicity of their connection, how natural it felt, should have sent her running in the opposite direction, a voice in the back of her mind telling her it was too easy, too comfortable for the kind of world they lived in. They hadn’t even had a serious conversation about what they were or what they had going on—and yet, Paige didn’t worry about it.

She should’ve been terrified of how she felt about Azzi already–it had only been a few months. But for some reason, anytime she thought about her, the only thing Paige felt was calmness. She rarely thought about it if she was being honest. It just felt right. Everything about Azzi felt... right. Like the pieces of her life, of their connection, were meant to fall into place in the way they had.

As Paige lay there, still, her mind slowing down for the first time that night she couldn’t help but smile a little. The thought of being around Azzi all the time, physically being with her instead of having to hear her voice through a phone. Being able to physically touch her. It all seemed too good to be true, but Paige didn’t worry about that—she thought just maybe that the universe was finally repaying her.

Third Person POV - March 2024

After taking a shower Paige sat on the edge of her hotel bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face as she idly scrolled, waiting. The room itself was silent, but Paige’s mind was buzzing with anticipation. She knew it was only a matter of time before Azzi texted her or called. It always happened that way after games.

She leaned back against the pillows, letting out a slow breath as she glanced at the time. UConn had won their Sweet Sixteen game against Duke earlier that night, and unknowingly to Azzi, Paige had been there to witness it. She had come down with her dad and Drew, who hadn’t seen UConn play in person yet. The three of them had seats in the stands, and while it felt strange watching from far, Paige loved the experience.

Her dad and Drew were sharing a room down the hall, while she had her own. Now, alone in her room, Paige found herself sitting, waiting—because she knew Azzi would reach out. Azzi never let too much time pass without talking to her.

Right on cue, her phone buzzed. “You up?”

Paige chuckled to herself, shaking her head before typing out a response.

Paige 💗You a 16-year-old boy now?

Azzi’s reply came almost immediately.

Azzi <3 Lol I’ll take that as a yes

Paige smirked, stretching one of her arms over her head before texting back.

Paige 💗I was waiting on you

Azzi <3 Oh yeah?

Paige💗Yeah.

The typing bubbles appeared for a moment before disappearing, and then suddenly, Paige’s screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Her smirk deepened as she swiped to answer, settling back against the pillows.

When the call connected, all Paige could see was the bathroom ceiling, but she could hear Azzi’s voice.

"Why are you always flirting with me?"

Paige laughed. "Cause you like it."

"No, I don’t," Azzi shot back, but there was no real conviction behind her words—it was clearly a lie.

Paige raised an eyebrow, playing along. "No?"

"No," Azzi repeated, but Paige could hear the slight waver in her voice.

Paige chuckled. "Why not?"

There was a pause before Azzi mumbled, "Because all it does is make me sexually frustrated."

Paige smirked at that, biting her lip before saying, "Lemme fix that for you, then."

"Paige, please," Azzi groaned, still off-screen.

Paige chuckled. "Please what?"

"I really can’t handle that today," Azzi muttered. "I won’t be alone for the next week, and I already feel like I’m about to explode."

Paige hummed, amused at Azzi’s frustration. "That’s not a problem."

She heard Azzi groan again, making her chuckle. "Azzi, come to the camera."

There was a beat of silence, then a soft shuffle. A few seconds later, Azzi finally appeared with a towel wrapped around her, clearly fresh out of the shower.

"Where are you?" she asked, scanning Paige’s unfamiliar background.

Paige tilted her head slightly. "My hotel room."

Azzi's expression was filled with confusion. "What? You’re done with visits."

Paige grinned. "That’s what I been tryna tell you." Then, more sincerely, she added, "You played great today, by the way."

Azzi smiled at the compliment before quickly piecing together what Paige was saying. "Wait—you’re here? In Portland?"

Paige simply nodded, watching as realization dawned on Azzi’s face. A grin spread as soon as the realization sank in.

"What room are you in?" she asked, her voice carrying an excitement that wasn’t there before.

"617," Paige answered smoothly.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. "I’ll be down there soon."

Paige hummed in response as Azzi hung up the phone.

A few minutes later a sharp knock at the door shocked Paige a little, but she didn’t hesitate when she got up to answer it. She swung it open without even checking the peephole, already knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Before she could fully take in Azzi’s appearance—her damp hair, the cropped shirt she must’ve thrown on in a hurry—Azzi rushed forward, crashing their lips together.

The kiss from Azzi is urgent and unrestrained. Paige stumbles back a little, her hands instinctively gripping Azzi’s waist as she pulls her in, making sure neither of them lose their balance. The door swings shut behind them with a loud thud, the only sound in the room now is their heavy breaths as they press closer to one another.

Azzi’s hands find Paige’s jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, while Paige steadies them both, her fingers slipping beneath the loose cropped shirt Azzi has on. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing—just unspoken longing spilling over now that they’re finally in the same place again.

After what feels like an eternity of them standing there, Azzi pulls back just enough to whisper against Paige’s lips, “You really didn’t think to tell me you were here?”

Paige smirks, her hands still on Azzi’s waist. “Figured a surprise was more fun.”

Azzi huffs out a small laugh before tugging Paige back in, shaking her head as she mumbles, “You’re ridiculous.” But she doesn’t seem to think so when Paige’s tongue slides in her mouth.

They move together, stumbling but somehow in sync, until they reach the foot of the bed. Despite how frantic it seems, Paige is careful—guiding them, making sure Azzi doesn’t trip over anything in her rush. They stay standing at the foot of the bed for a moment, lost in one another, lips moving, hands exploring like they’re memorizing the feeling of each other.

Then Azzi pulls back just enough, her fingers slipping under the hem of Paige’s shirt. Paige lifts her arms, letting Azzi tug it over her head. The second it’s gone, Azzi discards her own shirt and doesn’t waste another moment before pulling her back in, her lips crashing into Paige’s.

Paige chuckles against her mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur, “Baby, slow down—” her hands find Azzi’s waist, thumbs smoothing over her skin as she whispers, “Lemme see you.”

Azzi, still a little dazed, blinks at Paige and murmurs, “What did you just call me?”

Paige chuckles, shaking her head as she tries to play it off. “Nothing,” she says casually. “I said, lemme see you.”

Azzi doesn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she lowers herself onto the bed, looking up at Paige through her eyelashes, the corners of her lips tugging up just slightly.

Paige exhales, rolling her eyes playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” She steps closer, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s chin, her touch impossibly gentle despite the tension crackling between them.

Azzi tilts her head, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Paige groans, her fingers curling under Azzi’s chin as she mutters, “Like that.”

Azzi just blinks up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Paige exhales sharply, shaking her head as she steps back. “You know what you’re doing,” she mutters, turning away.

Azzi simply shrugs. “Maybe.”

She watches as Paige leans against the desk across from the bed. Azzi takes her in, letting her gaze roam—Paige’s hair pulled back in a loose bun, her diamond earrings catching the light, the black shorts sitting on her hips, paired with a black Nike sports bra. And then there’s her cross necklace, resting just above her chest.

Azzi smirks. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Paige lifts an eyebrow, silently challenging the question. Like what?

Azzi shakes her head, her smile deepening. “Come here.”

Paige pushes off the desk and walks over, looking at Azzi the entire time. The moment she’s close enough, Azzi reaches for her necklace, curling her fingers around it as she gives a gentle tug, pulling Paige down toward her on the bed.

Paige hovers over Azzi, smiling down at her, amusement flickering in her eyes. Azzi meets her gaze, fingers still curled around the necklace. She gives it another tug, just enough to bring Paige down to her level, and their lips meet again—this one is slower, more intimate, as if they’re finally allowing themselves to just exist in this moment.

There’s no urgency, no frantic need to make up for lost time.

Paige starts to pull away, but Azzi’s fingers tighten around the chain, keeping her close. Their lips reconnect, and Paige can’t help but smile into it, letting out a soft chuckle at Azzi’s persistence. Azzi hums against her mouth, clearly pleased with herself, and Paige deepens the kiss for just a second longer before murmuring against her lips, “So this is how it is, huh?”

Azzi hums in response, deepening the kiss, and Paige lets her, letting herself sink into the warmth of it as Azzi’s fingers stay wrapped around her necklace, keeping her close, as if she’s afraid Paige will disappear if she lets go.

After a while, both of their lips are raw when Paige pulls back just enough to murmur, “I gotta tell you something.”

Azzi doesn’t release her immediately, stealing a few more kisses before finally loosening her grip on the chain. Paige smirks at the reluctance before pulling back slightly, still hovering over Azzi.

Azzi tilts her head, her fingers fully undoing Paige’s bun that she messed up. “What?”

Paige exhales softly, then says it as casually as if she’s commenting on the weather. “I’m coming to UConn.”

Azzi blinks up at her, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

Paige chuckles, brushing a loose curl from Azzi’s face. “I’m transferring to UConn.”

The grin that spreads across Azzi’s face is instant and huge, her excitement practically radiating off of her. Without thinking, she wraps her arms around Paige and pulls her into a hug, the force of it making Paige collapse onto her with a laugh.

Azzi holds on tight, her face buried in Paige’s shoulder, her voice muffled as she says, “Are you serious?”

Paige just laughs again, wrapping her arms around Azzi in return. "Yeah. I'm serious."

Azzi pulls back slightly, looking at Paige with surprise. "When did you tell Geno?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

Paige shrugs. "I haven't yet. I wanted to tell you first."

Azzi’s expression softens, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You wanted to tell me first?"

Paige nods, her gaze softening as she meets Azzi’s eyes. "Yeah."

Azzi smirks, leaning up slightly. "Aww, that’s sweet."

Paige rolls her eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Alright, shut up," she mumbles, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

Azzi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment. "I’m just saying. It’s cute."

Paige exhales a quiet laugh, rolling her eyes as she mutters, "Whatever," before leaning back down to kiss Azzi.

This time, the kiss is slower, deeper—Paige’s weight pressing into Azzi completely as their lips move in sync. Azzi feels the warmth of Paige’s body against hers, the way Paige’s knee slides in between her legs. She lets herself sink into it, her hands finding their way to Paige’s sides, fingers curling against her skin as she pulls her closer.

The moment is so consuming that it takes a second before Azzi realizes where her hands are—right over the scar. The very place Paige had once pulled her away from, tensing at her touch.

Azzi stills, her breath hitching as she pulls back slightly, ready to apologize, but before she can say a word, she notices that Paige hasn’t moved away.

She’s still there, still hovering over her, her blue eyes looking a little shocked but still soft as they search Azzi’s face. There’s a little hesitation in her eyes but no discomfort—then slowly just a quiet acceptance.

Azzi barely has time to process it before Paige leans back down, capturing her lips in another kiss, deeper this time. It’s slow and almost calculated, as if Paige is telling her without words that it’s okay. That she wants this. That she wants her. At this, Azzi flips them over, her movements instinctual, and suddenly, she’s the one hovering over Paige. Paige lets out a quiet breath of surprise, her blue eyes flickering with something unreadable—something Azzi has come to know all too well.

Azzi doesn’t give her time to think too much. She dips down, trailing her lips along the sharp curve of Paige’s jaw, then lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Paige licks her lips at the feeling, willing her body to relax beneath Azzi’s as she sighs slightly, her fingers brushing along Azzi’s back.

Azzi smiles against Paige’s chest, taking her time, savoring every second of this—of Paige letting her in, letting her touch her like this. She feels Paige shift slightly beneath her again, feels Paige pulling her closer, and the small action makes something warm bloom in Azzi’s chest.

So she keeps going, kissing down the column of Paige’s throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath her lips, feeling the way Paige’s breath hitches every time she lingers just a second too long.

Paige couldn’t help but sigh at how soft Azzi’s lips felt against her throat, how warm and steady she felt hovering over her. It was effortless—the way Azzi moved, the way she kissed her, like she had all the time in the world. She was making sure to kiss every part of Paige’s neck, every inch of exposed skin, trailing lower with no rush, no hesitation.

Both of them had a soft appreciation for this moment. For Azzi, it was about memorizing Paige like this—unworried by the outside world, just them, just this. And for Paige, it was about allowing herself to let go, even if just for a little while.

She knew, from all their late-night FaceTime calls, that Azzi understood her in a way not many people did. Azzi knew that Paige didn’t like giving up control—that it wasn’t in her nature, that her brain basically screamed at her when she wasn’t in control of something. She knew that Paige always had to be the one holding the reins, the one dictating the pace, the one leading.

But right now, Paige wasn’t doing that.

Right now, she was letting Azzi take the lead. She was willing herself to trust the girl hovering above her. And the way Azzi handled her, with such care and patience, made it feel easier than she thought it would be.

Azzi watches Paige closely as she trails lower, her lips brushing over her skin, her hands smoothing over Paige’s sides. When she glances up, all she sees is Paige with her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. She smiles at the sight, at the trust Paige is giving her, and then she dips back down, kissing every inch of her stomach with the same patience she had when she started.

But when she reaches the scar, she hesitates. Because it’s a tricky thing—she can’t ignore this part of Paige, wouldn’t want to, but she also knows it’s sensitive, both physically and emotionally.

So, she starts slowly. A soft kiss. She feels Paige’s stomach tense slightly beneath her, the smallest shift, but she doesn’t tell her to stop.

So she places another kiss. Then another. Azzi takes her time, shifting her lips along every part of the scar, not missing an inch. She even moves to Paige’s side, making sure to trail her kisses as far as she can.

When she finally looks up, Paige’s eyes are open now, watching Azzi’s every move.

Then, Paige’s hand moves.

Azzi stills when she feels the gentle brush of Paige’s thumb against her cheek. She leans into it instinctively, closing her eyes for a brief second before looking back at her.

Paige is watching her, something unreadable in her expression, but there’s absolutely no hesitation in the way she touches her.

Azzi turns her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Paige’s palm before murmuring, “You okay?”

Paige nods. “Yeah.”

Azzi’s smile is soft as she moves back up, her lips finding Paige’s. As their mouths move together, her hand drifts lower, sliding easily into Paige’s shorts where she runs her fingers against Paige. The touch is barely there, but it pulls a reaction from Paige immediately—a low, involuntary sound escaping her lips.

Azzi chuckles, pulling back just enough to murmur, “You good?”

Paige nods, her breath a little uneven. “Mhm,” she manages, but then Azzi is sliding into Paige, settling completely before she’s pulling them out again agonizingly slow. Paige’s eyelids flutter as she exhales shakily, her voice coming out softer now, more like a whisper. “That feels good…”

Azzi smiles against her lips, happy with the effect she’s having on her. So she keeps the slow pace going, feeling the way Paige subtly arches into each time she curls her fingers. After some time, when she feels Paige getting a little more urgent in her movements, Azzi pulls away from the kiss. Creating just enough space between them to take in Paige’s face fully. To see her reactions.

Paige opens her eyes to look up at her, blue eyes heavy, but locked onto Azzi’s with an intensity that makes Azzi’s breath catch. There’s something about the way she’s looking at her—like she’s completely lost in her.

Azzi’s voice is quiet as she whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Paige swallows hard at that, something deep in her chest tightening, like she might explode under the weight of those words. Her fingers flex against Azzi’s back as she struggles to find a response, but the truth is, she doesn’t need to say anything—Azzi already knows.

The way Azzi is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters in the world—makes her heart pound faster. Feeling Azzi move in and out of her almost perfectly, sends a warmth spreading through Paige’s entire body. She feels overwhelmed, not just by the sensation but by the way Azzi is completely focused on her, on every reaction she’s having.

Paige swallows, her throat suddenly dry. “Azzi…” she whispers out, not even sure what she wants to say.

Azzi just smiles, dipping her head down to brush her lips against Paige’s again. “I mean it,” she whispers against her mouth. “You’re so beautiful Paige.”

Paige exhales shakily, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s back, like she needs to hold onto something solid to keep herself from falling apart completely. “…Shut up,” she finally mumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

Azzi raises her eyebrows, surprised by this response. But then she’s smiling because Paige’s blue eyes are completely hazy, her chest is rising and falling quicker now, her body reacting in ways she’s clearly struggling to control as she throws her head back against the pillow.

“Fuck— I’m sorry, I just—” Paige starts, but she can’t finish, her voice becoming unsteady. Azzi just chuckles, continuing her pace but adding a little pressure as she slides her knee in between Paige’s legs.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures her, keeping her voice gentle. “I know.”

But Paige’s breathing only stutters more, her body tense beneath Azzi. Azzi lowers her head near Paige’s ear. “Relax, baby.”

Paige takes a sharp inhale at hearing Azzi whisper in her ear, her fingers gripping Azzi’s arm tightly. Still, she listens—taking a deep unsteady breath, forcing herself to settle.

Azzi kisses the corner of her jaw, feeling the tension in Paige’s body start to unravel beneath her. “That’s it,” she whispers, dragging her lips along Paige’s skin as she speeds up her movements.

Paige swallows hard. “Azzi I—”

“Sshhh,” Azzi soothes, as she adjusts so she has more room to keep her pace. “I know.”

And then Paige is tensing under her all over again.

Paige’s words come out choked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can…I can’t…it’s—”

Azzi lifts her head, “Look at me,” she murmurs.

Paige forces her eyes open, her eyelids are low and her eyes are unfocused as they lock onto Azzi’s. Once their eyes lock Azzi slows her pace again, curling her fingers perfectly every time she moves. Making sure Paige feels her.

“Just relax for me,” Azzi whispers.

Paige swallows, nodding once, never breaking eye contact as she takes another deep breath. As soon as she does that it hits—her body trembling, breath hitching, fingers tightening against Azzi’s back.

Azzi leans down, immediately taking Paige’s lips in her own, swallowing every shaky breath, every quiet whimper, every moan, until Paige finally starts to settle beneath her.

Before Azzi even knows what’s happening, Paige is flipping them over. When she does this, she’s a lot more feverish than Azzi was, her lips trailing down Azzi’s jaw, sucking and nipping along the way, like she can’t get enough of her.

Azzi, already worked up just from watching Paige, takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Fuck Paige—”

Paige hums against her skin, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s body.

Azzi exhales shakily. “I really can’t wait. It’s been too long.”

Paige lifts her head, her pupils dilated, she nods once before leaning back down, sealing her lips over Azzi’s again.

Paige easily slides her hand into Azzi’s pajama shorts and groans when there’s no other barrier and she immediately feels how ready Azzi is for her. Paige whispers out, “Fuck baby, why you didn’t tell me.” Before Azzi can respond Paige is easily sliding her fingers into Azzi.

As soon as Paige does this, Azzi’s breath hitches, and she mumbles, “Oh god.” Paige smirks, feeling the heat radiating from Azzi’s body as she easily takes her in.

Azzi, already feeling the tug in her stomach, grabs Paige’s waist and pulls her closer, the weight of Paige on top of her having Azzi closing her eyes in relief. She runs her hands up and down Paige’s back, her breath growing shallow. “I miss you so much,” Azzi murmurs.

Paige leans down to kiss her. “I miss you, too pretty girl,” she replies softly.

Azzi exhales a quiet, needy sound at the nickname, she wraps her arms tightly around Paige’s shoulders and hooks her legs around Paige’s waist, using the leverage to pull her closer. A low groan escapes her lips as Paige presses deeper into her, her fingers tangling into Paige’s hair seeking any piece of her she can get.

A few moments later, Azzi’s phone rings from the nightstand, popping the bubble they created. The first time, Azzi ignores it, her attention completely on the way Paige is making her feel, but then it rings again. Again, she ignores it, letting Paige continue, her hands never leaving Paige’s head, but when it rings a third time, Azzi can’t ignore it anymore.

With a deep sigh, she reaches over to grab the phone, still breathing unevenly from the way Paige feels inside of her. She glances at the screen and sees Caroline’s name flashing.

Azzi sighs again, this time louder, her chest tightening. Paige, noticing the change, starts to shift off of her, but Azzi grabs her, shaking her head, “No… don’t,” she says softly, pushing Paige’s head into her neck. Paige is a little surprised at this but she complies with what Azzi wants as she starts placing open mouth kisses to Azzi’s neck, curling her fingers as she does it.

Reluctantly, Azzi answers the phone, her voice completely breathy as she says, “Yes, Caroline?”

Caroline’s voice comes through the phone. “You have 15 minutes.” And before Azzi can respond, Caroline hangs up, already knowing exactly what Azzi is doing.

Azzi throws her phone somewhere and immediately pulls Paige back into a kiss, this time more urgent. Both of them are aware of the time slipping away, and the need to be close is almost overwhelming.

Paige, knowing what she needs to do to speed the process up for Azzi, adjusts so she can use her thumb adding slow soft circles to the mix as she continues to curl her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for Azzi’s body to shake under Paige’s touch, her breath coming in shallow bursts as her hands tighten around Paige. She tries to speak, but the words don’t come out clearly, her chest heaving with every shaky exhale.

“P-Paige…Yes—” she stammers, struggling to find her voice as Paige’s continues to work in and out of her, drawing another tremor from her. “Fuck—” Her hands find Paige’s back, trying to pull her impossibly closer, her fingers digging into her skin as she gasps. “I… want you... so much...”

Azzi’s words slip into a breathless murmur, almost incoherent. Paige slows her rhythm as she helps Azzi ride out the sensation, her smile growing as she watches her.

“You have me,” Paige whispers, pressing her forehead to Azzi’s as they both savor the moment.

They stay just like that for a second, both of them breathing deeply, still feeling the weight of each other. There’s a quiet, unspoken understanding between them as they both lay there, hearts still racing in sync.

Paige breaks the silence with a soft murmur, “You gotta go.”

Azzi exhales slowly, her body still warm beneath Paige’s, but the words don’t seem to make her move just yet. She pulls Paige closer instead, pressing a kiss to her lips before she mumbles, “I know.”

Even as she says it, Azzi’s hands tangle in Paige’s hair, and the kiss turns more urgent. The heat between them grows again, their lips moving together perfectly, tasting each other in a way that seems to say they’re not ready to let go, not yet.

But eventually, Azzi pulls away, her chest rising and falling. She gives Paige one last lingering look before she’s tapping her to stand up. Once Paige rolls off of her, Azzi stands, stretching and crossing the room to grab Paige’s discarded shirt from the floor, easily slipping it over her head.

Paige smirks, her eyes following Azzi’s every movement, and as she stands up from the bed she says. “Look at you, putting on my shirt. Ms. ‘Don’t get used to it.’”

Azzi rolls her eyes, as she slips her Uggs back on. Paige mirrors the move, grabbing her phone and keycard, ready to walk Azzi upstairs.

Azzi’s voice breaks the quiet. “You’re not going to put on a shirt?”

Paige laughs, glancing down at herself. “You kinda sorta stole mine.”

Azzi laughs softly, nodding. “Fair enough.” She watches as Paige glances at herself in the mirror, her jaw tightening just slightly before she looks toward Azzi.

“I should be fine. It’s pretty late.”

Azzi nods, grabbing her hand and the two of them step out of the room, walking down the hall toward the elevator. The walk feels too short and they reach Azzi’s door before they know it.

Azzi reaches out first, pulling Paige toward her in one more kiss. It's slow, a little messy—her lips pressing against Paige's with a delicate urgency. Azzi’s arms slide over Paige’s shoulders, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of Paige’s neck and Paige responds, her hands wrapping around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in closer.

But then the door to Azzi’s room swings open, and Caroline peeks her head out. She doesn’t seem surprised by what she sees, “You deadass have like a minute.”

Like most people, because humans truly can’t help it, her eyes flicker down to Paige’s exposed torso, and Paige immediately notices the look.

The moment shifts, the lightness of Paige’s energy almost vanishing as she steps back from Azzi. Her jaw tightens, her fingers subconsciously starting to fiddle with the ring on her finger. She clears her throat, putting a little more distance between them. “I’ll text you, okay?” she says, her voice quieter now, and Azzi nods, understanding the sudden shift.

Paige takes one last look at Azzi, giving her a small smile then turns to walk away.

As Azzi and Caroline walk into the suite. Caroline watches as Azzi shuts the door and as soon as Azzi starts walking towards her bed, Caroline can’t help herself. “What was that?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.

Azzi glances at her but doesn’t pause in her movement. “That was a kiss,” she answers simply.

Caroline raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with that response. She shifts slightly on the couch. “Obviously. But I’m not talking about that.”

Azzi stops in her tracks, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. She takes a breath, turns, and faces Caroline. “Then what was what?”

Caroline is persistent, but her tone is soft and inquisitive, rather than pushy. “She had this huge scar on her side. I saw it when you were...you know. What’s going on with that?” Caroline’s eyes flicker with concern, showing she’s not trying to pry in a harsh way.

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says simply, keeping her voice neutral.

Caroline frowns, not convinced. “Azzi, that’s not nothing,” she says gently. “Is she okay?”

Azzi finally looks at Caroline. “She is.”

Caroline senses the finality in Azzi’s words and nods slowly, her curiosity still piqued, but understanding that Azzi isn’t going to share more. “Alright. I get it,” Caroline says, leaning back on the couch, not pressing any further.

True to Paige's word, as Azzi climbs into bed, her phone buzzes. She picks it up with a smile, seeing Paige's name light up the screen. Her fingers quickly swipe across the screen.

Paige💗You good?

Azzi reads the text and replies with a single word, followed by another.

Azzi <3 Course

Azzi <3 Why wouldn’t I be?

A few moments later, Paige responds.

Paige💗We kinda rushed for you.

Azzi’s chest warms a little at that. She pauses before texting back.

Azzi <3 You’re sweet

Azzi <3 Truly

Azzi <3 But the word "quickie" exists for a reason

Paige’s reaction comes through quickly — adding a laughing reaction to the message. Before adding

Paige💗Just wanted to make sure.

As Paige and Azzi continue their text exchange, a knock at the door interrupts the rhythm of the conversation for a second. Caroline glances over before moving to answer it, pulling the door open just enough to see who’s there.

CD stands in the hallway, her expression neutral as she steps just inside the room. Her gaze scans the space, quickly landing on Azzi sitting up on her bed, phone in hand. CD gives a small, satisfied nod, completing her room check, but her eyes linger for a second longer when she notices the shirt Azzi is wearing—the familiar bold Minnesota lettering printed across the front.

If CD has any thoughts about it, she doesn’t voice them. Instead, she offers a simple, “Goodnight, girls.” She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and pulling the door shut behind her.

Azzi chuckles under her breath, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to her phone, her fingers resuming their steady taps against the screen. Her smile growing as she sends another message to Paige.

Meanwhile, Caroline moves through the dim room, flipping off the last light before climbing into her bed.

Azzi remains awake, the faint glow of her phone illuminating her face as she continues the constant back-and-forth with Paige.

[dellamortethelesser]

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 2

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5

Picking back up in the next scene, Lucanis and Illario are exiting the tavern on their way to the contract. Here, they are described as "lean with dark hair and umber eyes". ← THIS MEANS THEY PURPOSELY GAVE MY POOKIE BLUE EYES TO MAKE HIM LOOK MORE EVIL.

(I also forgot to mention in the previous scene they discuss that Illario fastidiously grooms his 5 o'clock shadow so they also took THAT from us. But! Veilguard did give him a huge ass… no, I need his brown eyes back).

"Illario was all smiles. His was a calculated handsomeness. From his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth, everything was contrived to be enticing". ← insane thing to say i think what did caterina do to influence that so strongly. like yes, lucanis is a mage-killer and that's certainly a Niche, but let's not pretend that Illario isn't filling a different sort of niche. both of them have been trained to be more valuable Alive than Dead.

"As they walked through the crowd, he basked in the appreciative glances he received," ← unsure whether this is omniscient on part of the author or intended to be directly lucanis's pov. this specific passage i've never been able to figure it out. if it's lucanis's pov though, i would wonder if that 'basking' isn't just… a front.

I have to assume this passage is somewhat omniscient because it goes on to say that "… while Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn't look away from—until he looked at you." ← i have to assume this is all referring to Lucanis? if so? because if it is lucanis's pov why would he… idk. 'the kind of man you couldn't look away from' could still refer to illario? idk. it's a really hard passage for me to parse i feel stupid. debate in the reblogs

This whole next part of the story makes me insane because it's just further emphasizing my point that Lucanis gives absolutely no thought to Illario as an equal working with him on this contract—THAT HE ASKED ILLARIO TO BE HERE FOR. i'll try to break this down but i recommend just reading along in your own copy alsfjk

"So what's the plan? Now that Ambrose knows we're coming" / "We were never going through the front door." ← Illario is asking here, now that there's proof the Venatori know the Crows are after them, what the new plan is. he is only JUST NOW finding out that Lucanis never HAD a plan that didn't account for this? again i'm not sure how lucanis "knew" unless it's supposed to make him out to be the better assassin, but it reads as though he was purposefully keeping Illario in the dark.

hang on let me just directly quote this next part

"I bought THIS—" Illario gestured towards his tunic. "Because YOU said we were dispatching Tevinter's 'premiere' wigmaker at an exclusive party. Emphasis on exclusive." "Uh-huh." "It was a rush order. We were with the tailor for hours." "I recall." "Why let me go through the motions of purchasing formal wear for an event we're not actually attending?" "I know how much you enjoy dressing up," Lucanis goaded and ducked under a pointed archway.

But. You are attending this event. Crucially you are in fact both attending this event and do need Illario to dress the part to get YOU where YOU need to be. Why are you goading him on like this?!

You're both on the way to this contract—and Lucanis is leading him through a back entrance, btw, AND THE FACT THAT ILLARIO DOESN'T ALREADY KNOW THAT TELLS ME THAT LUCANIS DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT PART OF THE PLAN EITHER—so why are you doing this?!

Lucanis why are you fucking with him like this on purpose? THERE'S NO REAL REASON GIVEN IN HIS NARRATIVE SO I HAVE TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT THIS IS JUST NORMAL FOR THEM. WHICH ISN'T NORMAL

quick interlude to add that Lucanis's 'bleeding heart' sympathies are here from the jump; he is aware of the cultural importance of the vhenedahl, and remarks that the magisters trying to make a statue to keep their slaves in line had the opposite effect.

Again Lucanis reveals some way into the passageways they're using—that Illario didn't know about on both accounts—and is SMUG ABOUT IT. HE TOSSES ILLARIO A SMUG LOOK OVER HIS SHOULDERS.

"I wouldn't complain if you filled me in," he grumbled. "Yes, you would." "As much," Illario conceded. "I wouldn't complain as much."

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THIS LUCANIS. The dynamic between them is just consistently reinforcing the idea that wherever Lucanis goes, Illario is expected to follow, unwaveringly, unquestioningly, and to be quite honest i would be driven fucking insane.

We're only so many pages in and there is a very clear way that Lucanis treats Illario just in the context of working CONTRACTS together, and that way is… not very good! YOU INVITED HIM HERE. WHY ARE YOU KEEPING HIM IN THE DARK?

I say this like I don't understand but a lot of people have rightly pointed out that this is their 'normal'. This is learned behavior, a learned dynamic, and I do believe Caterina is partly responsible for fostering it by showing such clear favoritism to Lucanis and likely giving him behavior to model.

Which goes back to my previous question of… why? If you're not going to name an heir and want this to be a winner takes it all relationship, why show such clear favoritism?! THESE ARE YOUR LAST TWO LIVING RELATIVES, CATERINA.

Back to the book. Lucanis's elf contact greets him with "Master Dellamorte". Cool! When she looks for an introduction, though, it is Illario that butts in with "Master Dellamorte the Lesser". ← hi my love. why did you do this? well because it reinforces the same shit we've been seeing the whole time. and calls back to how he already referred to lucanis as 'the great' in their first scene together.

"My cousin," Lucanis clarified. ← no defense or correction? fine maybe not the time or place. one of the more neutral statements that Lucanis has said to him but he's damned by faint praise and the fact there is no INNER NARRATIVE QUESTIONING ILLARIO'S ANSWER MEANS THIS IS ALSO ASSUMED TO BE NORMAL.

Heading up the passage. It's magic. the room spins

"Lucanis bit back a laugh as Illario held out an arm to steady himself." ← WHY. why is this funny to you. okay now im sounding like i'm seething at lucanis which i kind of am BUT TRUST I STILL LOVE HIM

THIS DYNAMIC IS JUST INSANE TO ME. okay anyways next bit. i'm covering one more scene and then will do another post for part 3. together we can work through this story a few pages every day. I'm gonna break up this last bit in some chunks

"You've made friends." / "You would too, if you ever left Treviso." / "I'm here now, aren't I?" ← Illario was trying to be nice. Lucanis immediately takes a shot at the fact that Illario stays in Treviso (are we implying here that Illario doesn't take jobs? Doesn't work?) and Illario reminds him that HE CAME TO VYRANTIUM FOR LUCANIS. He's here for you!

"Seriously, though, what is this place?" "A perk. Given by our mysterious benefactor." Lucanis quickened his pace, hoping to leave the answer at that. Illario did not take the hint. "Speaking of, I have some questions about him… her… them?"

1) diversity win

2) AGAIN. Illario is being kept in the dark about things and Lucanis is intentionally not sharing them. WHY? We are never given a reason WHY from Lucanis. Just that he doesn't want to share anything with Illario—ostensibly about their client but ABOUT THE WHOLE CONTRACT IS WHAT THE NARRATIVE SHOWS.

"Oh, come on," Illario urged, matching Lucanis's pace. "When have we ever taken on an anonymous client?" "Since someone could put tangible stock in the phrase 'Silence is golden'." "You're not the least bit curious?" Lucanis exhaled through his nose. "If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I'm not going to complain."

again we see Lucanis's sympathies coming to light. these are not bad feelings to have obviously we should hate racists. but they are assassins paid to kill and not get emotionally entangled in the job which Lucanis consistently does in this short story.

additionally. again. the way he talks to illario. i just. can it be stated enough at any point.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[imaluvsj7]

✿ ─── TOUCH OF EUPHORIA : 이희승

SYNOPSIS : where 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung is desperate man

PAIRING : 𝓁ee 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung x gn 𝓇eader ; GENRE : friends 𝓉𝑜 lovers, 𝒻luff, yearning & 𝒹esperation ; WC : 1338

───── 【 𝒾mas’ note 】 ❍ :: getting hang of writing again so sorry this is kinda rusty, I've tried making gn this time so really sorry if you find specific gender mentioned anywhere. please leave fbs & ENJOY READING!!

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, reader loves to banter, hee is a loser trapped in a hot body — desperate and yearning, hee calls reader angel, lots of fluffy & they kiss!!!! a little bit of rusty writing.

DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Visiting my house early in the morning with your pajamas still on isn't how i expected you to show up heeseung especially the following day of your confession,” you stand near your door looking at him with adoration with a teasing tone hidden behind your grin.

Heeseung stood in front of your doorsteps with his typical pajamas a white loose tank top and grey trousers, bedhead messy locks with some tousled strands tucked in places — showing he has tried to fix his hair on the way, his bambi eyes showing daze and their usual sparkle. (click to read more)

Yet his unsettling feet and palms showed his feelings — a mix of joy, excitement, a depth of overwhelmingly and maybe slightly anxious gaze which he couldn't hide and somewhat feeling euphoric.

“I woke up and went to directly check my phone then I saw your response to my confession and I couldn't control myself but I promise I have brushed my teeth and washed my face,” he explains hastily trying to assure you he has cleaned himself enough to show up.

You try to suppress your laugh but he was too adorable to control, looking at you chuckling he blushed profusely as his ears turned crimson red and warm.

Soon calming down you speak — “so heeseung did you feel satisfied with my response.” “You said you will reply in person….. uh- so do you reciprocate my feelings?” he stutters out his question.

“Is this why you came rushing?” you ask with a playful tone subsiding your laugh. “Please angel, just answer my question. I need to know your response in person,” he said, carrying a whiny tone and emphasizing his plea.

“Okay gosh but first come inside you goofball.”

─────═━ •❃• ━═─────

You both walk into the living room and sit on the couch, “you want anything to drink cause it's early morning you haven't had breakfast or something.” “No please let's just talk,” he pleads desperately.

God you are weak for men who yearn pathetically, it drives you insane. You want to scream in a pillow at his adorable yet desperate state.

“Okay okay let's talk,” you gesture at him to continue speaking. “I couldn't keep my feelings hidden anymore angel, so Jay pushed me to confess and I didn't have the guts to do it infront of your face so I preferred to text instead.”

“To be honest I said that because confessing on text is a chicken move and I wasn't fond of it so I told you to confront me in person for my response.” “Yeah that I understood after Sunoo and Jungwon smacked my head when I told them before leaving, I'm really sorry that was very cowardly and lame of me.”

“It's okay bambi boy you're forgiven since you're so adorable but now I'm waiting for you to repeat the same thing you know.”

“Stop teasing me — he groans, maybe more like whining with his lips forming a pout — okay now just listen to me and don't speak please or I might get nervous, “you're nervous” – angel please let me complete.

I have had feelings for you for three years right after we became friends, I couldn't control them. Whenever you grab my arm I feel a jolt of electricity running through my body, when you come over to take care of me when I'm sick I feel captivated by your presence, when you laugh at my silly jokes I feel an intense wave of euphoria, I feel butterflies in my stomach when I go to bed after we hangout. I cannot stop myself blushing and smiling, at this point all my friends know and make fun of me. I don't care if I sound desperate or pathetic. I just want you to know how I feel so please tell me how you feel or I might go insane.”

“Gosh bambi boy you make me want to squish the life out of you. I have feelings for you too, you idiot, it was pretty clear to everyone except for you bimbo. Why do you think I always agreed to hangout and spend time with you and laugh at your silly jokes because I love you dummy.”

You expected him to jump or maybe laugh or just react with some sort of excitement but rather his eyes are glossy showing his vulnerability and his big grin speaks for his happiness.

“Say something now you idiot,” “I will start crying you-you love me- you said those words.” He stands up abruptly startling you as he grabs you in a tight hug pulling you up from the couch and his feet softly bouncing in excitement showing his eagerness.

“Okay you stupid let's sit…. oh god bambi boy,” you laugh at his excitement as he stumbles and you both crash on the couch. “Sorry oh god that was embarrassing I couldn't help oh this is real,” he giggles still joyful from the adrenaline rush.

He shifts, getting both of you comfortable laying down on the couch and you both stay quiet for a few minutes covered in a comforting silence.

“You know you haven't said those words yet,” “I haven't what – how can I be so stupid oh my god I love you angel, so much and it keeps growing everyday, every minute and every second.”

“You know you're definitely desperate and corny but lucky for me I like my man yearning for me.” He laughs at your sassy words while nuzzling his face in your hair and it follows with a soft warm touch of his lips making you go still and your body feeling euphoric.

He turns your head into his direction as he inches himself close to your face, his warm breath hitting your lips as he whispers “Can I?” — nodding your head you give him consent.

He soon leans forward, your bodies pressed together and your lips meeting his and you can feel the taste of shared breath along with his natural scent consuming your brain making it foggy.

Jolts of electricity pass in your system sending a tingling sensation across your cloudy brain and your palms turn clammy. The feeling of euphoria crawling in your heart making loud thuds. Your lips part slightly as he slips his tongue inside making you grasp his tank top in a tight fist.

Your usual confidential facade falling off as your face flushes warmth turning your ears crimson red. Eyes closed with your one hand travelling from his hair to his nape and his one hand locking your lips in place while the other holds your waist with fingers caressing your skin.

Your heart blooms with a rush of contentedness and a warmth you couldn't despair — the feeling so new yet so exciting making you feel gleeful. The lack of oxygen forcing you both to slowly part away, he leaves a last peck on your puckered lips.

Taking your time to stabilize your breathing you start feeling shy and exposed but the way Heeseung grins widely with adoration shining in his bambi eyes, his hands holding yours with his fingers caressing your knuckles assuring you.

Guessing your vulnerability he pulls you to him hugging you closes, pressing his torso against yours. Nuzzling his chin against your head he tilts his head a little to give your forehead a loving peck soon returning to its position.

After somewhat ten minutes of comforting silence he spoke up “Just so you know I'm your boyfriend now and you're my girlfriend but Jay told me girls feel loved and special when we ask them out on a nice date so give me one day.”

Receiving no response he pulls away a little to find you in a peaceful slumber, his loving gaze admiring your peaceful self — when you aren't teasing him or being cheeky.

Returning to his position he closes his eyes drifting away in his dreamland except this time it wasn't him admiring you from afar rather holding your hand while walking on a beach with your ring finger shining with a gold ring reflecting the sunlight.

© 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐒𝐉𝟕 2025 | DO NOT PLAGIARISE ON ANY PLATFORM

💌 ─── NOTE : editing my taglist so please tell me if you wanna be added in my perm taglist.

˙ . ꒷ 🍥 masterlist daily click . 𖦹˙—

[allertonhoe]

A2 + A5 with rafe please, a bit of angst then fluff at the end !!! also congratulations on 500 !!

thank you!!! hope you enjoy ☺️☺️ really had fun writing this one!!!

prompts: "Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry" + "Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything"

content warnings: 18+ MDNI, original afab!reader, men being men/being gross about women

500 follower celebration!

It was humiliating to say the least. You knew that being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend wasn't always the easiest task. There were expectations of you, one of them being that you had to accompany him to fancy Kook soirées. But tonight, you'd gotten pushed too far.

"Come on," he complained, banging against the locked guest room door. "Please just talk to me. I know I fucked up."

It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, another obligatory appearance among Figure 8's upper echelon since he was now running Cameron Development. Hanging off Rafe's arm with a cordial smile as he faked his way through small talk with important clients and investors.

At one point, the two of you split off from each other. Being wrangled by one of the other trophy girlfriends to gossip over drinks and 'leave the men to their business,' whatever that meant—something you'd learn very soon. Eventually excusing yourself to the bathroom, you became distracted as you strolled past the billiards room and noticed it was buzzing in conversation.

"Is she that good, Cameron?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you only keep a girl like that around for one reason."

Your jaw dropped at the sexist declaration, especially when you knew there was a good chance this person had probably acted the complete opposite less towards you than an hour ago when Rafe was by your side. It's not that you were ignorant to that type of behavior in these settings, you'd just never heard it so explicitly. 

This was part of why you loved Rafe, though. He was headstrong and fiercely protective of the things that were important to him, which included you. He had a reputation for having a dangerously short fuse, a trait you were appreciative of in this moment. But that wasn't the response you heard at all.

"Seriously, dude? You should brag about your girl more. The stories I've heard-"

"Shut up, Topper."

"No, no. I mean it as, like, a good thing. Those two have the freakiest sex. The stories I've heard. Tell them about that thing she can do when she puts her legs over her-"

"Damn, Rafe. And you aren't sharing any of the dirty details with the rest of us? That's cold, man..."

"My girl's just amazing; what can I say?"

"Enjoy that while it lasts. I wish my wife was still eager and willing like that. Didn't talk back yet, just did whatever I told her because she wanted to keep me around. Made sure I was taken care of like your girl still does, if you know what I mean."

The group of businessmen laughed boisterously as they proceeded with their banter, while your supposed knight-in-shining-armour stood along with them. Actually clinking his glass with the man's who made that comment, not even attempting to clear your name.

Your mind raced as you helplessly watched the scene unfold in front of you. Usually the two of you were on the same page, but right now you could barely recognized your boyfriend. Why didn't he confront them at all? Was he embarrassed over you? 

Your clutch fell from your hand, making your presence known as it hit the ground. Not daring to shift your regard back to the room full of local moguls, their conversation stilling there. Rushing to pick it up and return to the group of naive women you were seemingly better off with, but hearing a familiar set of footsteps follow behind you.

At first, Rafe tried explaining himself a few times. So you stubbornly shut him out and did what you apparently did best—blindly follow his lead like a doting puppy. Getting knowing looks from the same snobby men he’d just been chatting with as he quickly decided it was time to make his exit, your rage not going unnoticed.

Your silence prevailed throughout the car ride home despite his continued attempts to apologize, not sparing him a glance as you stormed into the house and up to one of the guest bedrooms. Locking the door behind you as the disparaging remarks swirled through your brain.

"Baby, let me in," he reiterates desperately.

He kept pounding on the door and you kept ignoring him, not in any mood to spend the rest of the evening rehashing your unsettled conflict. Becoming startled when it suddenly stopped after a few minutes, the quiet only worrying you knowing your boyfriend's unpredictable temper.

And then, in his irrational fashion, the thick wood broke off its hinges like it was no big deal. Barreling into the formerly tranquil room, brushing a hand through his hair dramatically as he caught his breath. Feeling a little resentful that he decided to channel his frustration into that outrageous display instead of actually backing you up earlier. 

"Are you fucking serious?" You grill him, not hiding how unimpressed you were.

"What?" He counters, glancing at the wreckage and waving it off. "Don't worry about that."

You just rolled your eyes, diverting your attention from him as resentment crept back up on you. A tear rolling down your cheek as you remembered why you were in here, avoiding him, in the first place. Rafe kneeling down to bring himself to your level, his thumb wiping it off your skin. 

"Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry." He whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. You know how the guys can be..."

"It's not that, Rafe. You didn't come to my defense at all when they were all objectifying me. I thought I meant more to you than that..." You detail with disappointment. "I'm just... I'm tired. It's been a long night. I'm gonna sleep in here, or one of the rooms that has a door attached."

"No, baby. Let me make it up to you," he contends further.

Not having any more energy to keep scolding him, you slipped under the covers and got as comfortable as you were able to without changing out of your cocktail dress or taking off your makeup. Feeling a dip at the bottom of the mattress, Rafe reaching out and caressing the shape of your silhouette.

"Yell, scream, say something..." he begs weakly, his voice breaking and barely a whisper as he finished his plea. "Anything..."

He crawled across the bed, lying behind you and placing his arms over your torso. Pulling you as close as he was able to with the comforter still separating your bodies. Shutting your eyes momentarily as you basked in the calm you'd been craving all night.

"I'm so sorry, baby... I should've told them to knock it off, but it's complicated with these guys. They're some of my dad's oldest clients. I can't just lose my shit on them, as much as I might want to." He justifies to you. "Please... I'll let you do whatever you want..."

As he waited for your answer, he moved your hair off the back of your neck and started pecking across the flesh. Pressing delicate, wanton kisses before stopping at your shoulder and resting his chin there, leaving one last chaste peck on your cheek. Trying your absolute best not to give in to his persuasive tactics. 

"Whatever I want?" you echo, catching his grin reappear as your discomfort faded.

"Anything," he coos, prompting you to turn over to face him properly.

"You're definitely gonna regret that," you threaten playfully. 

"Yeah?" he mutters, squeezing your waist possessively.

"Mhmm..." You hum, capturing his lips with yours. Rafe tangling his tongue with your own as he took over control and spent the rest of the evening helping you forget about the disastrous gala.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Promise him?

Piper wasn't ready for that. Would it be a lie if she promised?

She smiled, nodded, and sealed it with a kiss.

Close enough.

That one might get to her conscious later. Depends how deep she thinks about it. She was told Pierre is Pierre is Pierre in the grand scheme of things. Somehow they're all Pierre. So that was that and she was going to try and stick to it.

After the blaze in the forest a Fate was kind enough to wrap him in a blanket not having thought to bring him clothes. The plan was to take him back home straight away and deal with such things. His reaction however was just so... Pierre.

Zero jumped right up to volunteer. "Oh. Me! Me-me-me." He quickly grabbed up Pierre's hand like it was the most normal thing to do ready to head off anywhere.

Seven had his finger up in the air like he was raising his hand in a classroom when his mother, Lachesis stepped in between them.

"We're all very glad you're back, my dear and I'm sure you're very excited to break that body in as you say."

Clotho interrupted with a little shake of her hips.

"A little horizontal mambo never hurt anybody."

"BUT-" Lachesis glared daggers at Clotho, "-my son's been dead and a momma gets first dibs."

Seven's eyes went to Pierre with a little laugh. "I'll meet up with you a little later. Promise. Enjoy the pup. I will always be good to my momma. Allow me to break you in later."

Clotho kept shaking her hips as all three, Lachesis and Atropos started to head in formation in the same direction back home. Seven was still chuckling about breaking Pierre's body in. He wanted to break his own in too. At this point he had no idea it was a different timeline's Pierre. It looked Pierre to him. No one told him a thing. All Seven knew was he, himself felt good as new like he never died. He felt the same age as when he left. There weren't a lot of differences he could tell straight away. He felt like himself in the body he stole. He was feeling on top of the world and felt high on life, literally.

Lastly, there was Piper. She moved in towards Pierre. It was her responsibility to get Pierre stable and settled in this world, so she wasn't going to go anywhere. She understood the Fates wanting a moment with their lost son after she sprung that one on them out of the blue. It was probably extremely emotional for their family.

"Here." Piper put out her hand too. "Hotel time."

Piper was the only person with the ability to leave the fae circle. She'd pop Pierre and Zero to the inn, but that was just for a starting point. She had her special room there. Then she bounced them out. They left Feral. This Pierre was going to be given choices and freedom, a real life. Piper had it all planned. She had it all charted for him for later.

First, the room. It was already purchased and ready in hopes he said yes and she actually pulled this off.

She did.

So, as it would end up Pierre, Piper, and Zero were in the temporary room. Seven would be ported in later when he finished with his family.

This was Piper so the room was nothing short of luxury. She also stocked it with food for him.

"And there's a laptop. I already got it hooked up to the internet. I put a special charge card number in the drawer of the desk to use to start shopping. I didn't want to do it for you. I only bought a few essentials. Swim trunks in case you want to go down to the pool. Styling products, a little green, hair dryer, um, a couple shirts, pants, but I wanted to leave it to you. Most people like to dress themselves. If you really need a stylist to get started just let me know. Just whatever you need, use that card. Food. Whatever. I'll take care of it until we get you up and running in this life. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. I'm just glad you're here."

"You get to stay here until you decide where you want to be. We can discuss all that whenever you're ready. Your choices. I figured you might just want to relax tonight."

"OH MY GOD. PIERRE! There's a whirlpool tub in this bathroom. It's as big as a swimming pool! Right here in the room!"

Zero looked between Piper and Pierre. "Sorry was I interrupting something? Seriously, you gotta see this."

This Pierre, in this alternate verse, chose Piper. It was his last night alive, he had an inkling of that, and was choosing to spend it with Piper. A sensuous, sexual, passion-charged night. He was still the Pierre that everyone knew and rolled their eyes at, no matter the universe he still had a wandering eye, but when it counted? He chose Piper.

This Pierre had gone with the Laveaus when his mother and sister had come to confront Phoebus and pick up their stuff. He hadn’t tortured Thomas with hours of trying to justify his decisions. He had still been a pest at the Laveau house, sure, but it wasn’t out of anything bad-natured. That’s just what happens sometimes. But he didn’t make an enemy of himself, the way that the Pierre standing next to Piper right now had.

So all of that could very much have factored into the decision that Piper was going to make very soon.

“I missed you too,” Pierre said, his dark eyes brightening as he looked at her in the dim lighting of the room. “You were always my number one girl, you know that, right? No matter what happened, no matter who I was with, my mind … it always went right back to you.”

Even now, he kept tearing his eyes off of the vision of himself and Piper in that bathtub, and looking back to the real one. And that was damn hard for him. He was never one to turn down free porn.

He moaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing as she was touching him in this enclosed space. It was hard to focus on the plan when she was looking at him like this. Touching him like this. His breath was coming out quicker. Real touch. Not what happened in Hell. But real. Honest. Touch. “Promise me - we’ll have lots of time for this in the future?” He whispered.

He even thought about turning back time to when they got here. Have her here in this closet. He was already hard as a damn rock, just from her touch. Just from hearing himself in that bathtub out there. And from the idea of having life once more.

He let out a small groan into the kiss, his hands on his hips, feeling the dip of her waist before it flared out into that. “You’re bringing me back, how can I say no?”

He never even questioned how this one was going to die. He just saw the lucky fucker in a bathtub. At least he was having a good last day right? And then the thump - thump - thump of heavy footsteps. It sent a shiver up his spine just hearing them coming. He was growing nervous now. He was trying to appear brave, for Piper’s sake but shit, he was still a bit squeamish. He almost wanted to stay in that closet but Piper’s pull brought him out of it and he went running. Jump and slam. Jump and slam. Easy peasy. Like - those stupid football games that Ronno’s dad loved to watch.

And he tried. But the slam was too hard. Too physical. And what he did was slam his way into Delta’s line of fire, and push the other Pierre out of the way, and Piper grabbed him and took him back to the alternate universe. The exact Pierre Renault that everyone knew and loved to hate, was gone in a vomitous, fiery spew.

And now this new Pierre Renault was in this other world, the ends of his hair still damp, naked with a towel, and trying to get his bearings. But his eyes settled mainly on Piper, someone familiar, someone who he had just been with, someone who was now somehow magically dressed. His eyesbrows were furrowed as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair, making no attempt to tighten the towel or cover himself up more. They had talked about this happening but - actually having it happen?

Much like how he had made other decisions that greatly affected his life, though they might not have seemed so monumental at the time, others had too. In this other life, New Orleans hadn’t been wiped out. There weren’t zombies walking around. Hence how the scribbles kept ending up at Delta’s door, there were still plenty of them around. These changes were going to have to be adjusted to, once his mind wrapped around everything.

But one thing that never changed across universes was these were his two dudes. A grin came across his face as he saw them. He was alive. Seven never died in his universe so he was still alive too. He still had his two best guys. “It’s - definitely me,” He said, because in a way, it was. He was him. Pierre Renault.

He looked down at himself and chuckled. “Man, I wish. That sounds so much nicer than what really happens,” He said, a shiver going down his spine as he thought about the way that he would have died if not for Piper’s interfering. It could very well have come from the cold as well. “Dragon fire.”

He took the blankets from mothers with a charming grin, cacooining himself in one. And then because some things never truly change - “Wanna get somewhere warm and give this body a spin?” Which one of them was he talking to? All, of course.

[forgotn1]

I always try to tell people I enjoyed hanging out or doing something with them. At least partly because it's something I enjoy hearing and I need that kind of reassurance.

[souenkun]

Pokémon Masters EX spoilers ahead!

Kabu likes to play TAG with his pokemon... and he's shown to have a much softer side beneath his strictness in pokemas too... he's so grandpa-shaped to me 😭💖

[ritualove]

Silas grinned ear to ear when Brook asked him what happened next. It was effectively a declaration that he had effectively told a story, and the fact that it was just an iteration of Brook's own story, well, let's just say it's not helping his ego problem. "Thank you," Silas not-so humbly said to Brook. "My publisher has tried to get me to do those CD books, but I really don't see it taking off anytime soon. If I'm that good though maybe I should reconsider."

Silas was in his element brainstorming with Brook, he felt good, he was enjoying it greatly. "Trust me, if I never wrote something that was derivative, I'd be out of a job." He chuckled at his self depracating joke. He wasn't overly protective of his works, and he would never get into an argument about what their quality is. Unless it's with his editor, of course. "I love the vengeful ghosts. I think they should kill of the friends like how they were killed off, so like one of them gets hanged, one of them gets burnt. Didn't someone in the witch trials get crushed by rocks or something?" He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking for a moment, before practically slapping it, looking back up to Brook with an excited expression, "Oh! How about instead of Brook also being attacked, he was unknowingly complicit? So maybe they're clambered ontop of a building or something, and Brook tries to pass them down a rope to help them, but that rope is actually the one that wraps around the friend's neck when he falls."

As he listened to Silas talk essentially recount his story - and then take it into an even spookier direction - Brook suddenly felt like he was on the edge of his seat. What had been a creepy experience became genuinely unnerving with his narration, and Brook felt his heart rate pick up just a little. "And then what happens?" Brook asked, eyes wide, leaning forward as if they were about to share a secret. Then he realized what he was doing and laughed. "Sorry, it's just...if you've never narrated your own books, maybe you should. You had me captivated."

Brook thought about his own story and the flourishes that Silas had added to it, and Brook remarked, "You know, even a derivative story can be good if done well. Some of those clichés of the genre are clichés for a reason: because they work. So maybe we have something here." Brook really believed that, and if he helped Silas write his next book (or at least come up with the idea), well...that would be awesome. "Okay, so I'm just brainstorming here," he went on, "but what if the ghosts of Proctor's Ledge want revenge - or justice really - for what happened to them, and they start killing young Brook's friends because they're ancestors of the villagers who tried and convicted and sentenced them to death. And at first they try and kill Brook too, but then they realize he's their descendant, so they let him live." It was just the shell of an idea, but it was something.

[fisheito]

"makotolookinass"

the intersection of nu: carnival and free! fans that are all here because of our favorite green haired hunks (himbos?) is so funny

but it kinda makes sense given that both nu: carnival and free! are both at their core about caring about the people closest to you and prevailing internal struggles

dang , anonn, you really cut thru all the glamours of distraction

in brief contrast, i feel like a simple creature. one who was dragged into the intersection simply because i saw some dudes with Unlikely Physiques

[shivunin]

[sysig]

The most fun you can have, barring the pain and torture (Patreon)

[lurking-latinist]

⛵

[warriorprincesstramp]

I am seriously trying to sleep like I've got my fuckass noise machine on and everything my eyes were closed I was doing my best. but my thoughts drifted to siblings for a bit (never a good idea!) and while I always knew logically I had the same age gap with my old sister as I do with my younger brother I didn't realise until right this moment that it was never "well we were just really different ages and we didn't connect 🤷" it was that she didn't care about me and didn't try... like woah I was the exact same age she was when I was 8 when my brother was 8 and I just. simply chose to spend time with him.... and we're very close..... damn ok 😐

[raphaelderberry]

so this is probably my best digital painting yet!

reference image is from here (x) I have no rights to it and make no money from this.

[lunarhoneybunny]

sighs. okay tmi posting sorry guys

[unproduciblesmackdown]

with the recent like self-analytical framework of [putting hand on own shoulder] "are you looking for the external validation of value in this which would never be guaranteed, and you don't even think it should be contingent on this anyways" it's like, that also speaks more to like "yeah i did really enjoy live performance / theatre-adjacent and -overlapping stuff"

like i have my sense of how much i loved things and none of that involves any memories of having enjoyed it b/c of any feedback i got, from peers or instructors or anything. memories of curtain calls don't stand out much. like fun Specific Feedback was a kind older (relative to me) performer with the central role telling me that my literal leaping onstage (dance performance. grande jete entrance) despite a technical difficulty that would have to be improvised around was Inspirational/Motivating lol. i stopped having any particular stage fright (although is that when you're onstage? more like, anxiety beforehand about messing up. being onstage was the easier, enjoyable part) thanks to just having to yolo through those technical difficulties lol....anyways and then that same show actually, some relative to me younger audience member's dad was like "she's your (role's) biggest fan" and we nervously take a pic together lol. these things were fun & standout but Not Even It; not at all like "this is what makes it all worth it" like this is largely beside the point but a fun little bonus outlier event or two

like there was also no "i loved it b/c of Being In A Cast" nor b/c of any particular like, hanging out having fun Social Element. i loved rehearsing, though. loved being backstage (or in green rooms, or dressing rooms) but not because of any particular company or goings on. loved waiting & practicing / warming up & getting things together like your own costuming & being summoned to backstage & whatall. loved all the technical elements of getting a show together, when things were being assembled / worked out, though i didn't get to have much of any active hand b/c i'm like this twelve year old just learning the part, but it was fun to witness. none of my sense of what contributed to having a great time entailed any particular praise or anything; there was some implicitness in how all at once i graduated from [ensemble performance, back row for tall people] to [roles with solos] and the like, but there was just like, being busy, doing things well enough that it just wasn't Impeding anything lol, and in other arenas where i might've gotten more comments about being like, an outlier per whatever measure of success, it was definitely like, it's all just [successfully avoided negative attention] and ofc people think good grades are good but i'm not particularly moved by the awareness that that in turn is what's good or impressive about me, or something. or that i have to have anything like that for [successfully avoided negative attention]

and i wouldn't have like, done a monologue to an empty room and been like wow magical. i'd do my thing for rehearsal, and then for an audience, but you can't really see the audience and you're like ten doing local ten year old recreational stuff so it's like, the curtain calls you don't remember much (by you i mean me) and then you're done, and for me it was the fun of just like Everything Before. no like classic memories montage of great times socializing, it was me sitting in the green room equivalent, me warming up in the hallway, enjoying being in an auditorium for like 7 hrs of rehearsal, etc, we didn't do any like social events like high school performance afterparties or anything; i wasn't like Friends w/even the occasional person i also knew from school, and that didn't matter or diminish things in the least. performing A Show and for whatever Audience and that abstract is completely good enough. any of my parents' involvement, unavoidable b/c i couldn't even get places without being driven, was a major downside; i didn't like any like post performance [congrats] from them b/c that stuff was just its own unconstructive Performance that you, by which i mean me, were required to be sufficiently like Oh Wow about when it's like, the focused attention from you here means i want to leave; being left all amongst other adults during rehearsals was the good shit, while it also wasn't the case i needed like support or hype from any of those adults either.

there was Some tradition of like, older students in some program who'd take a trip to nyc / do some performance or other, and that seemed exciting but it stopped existing before it could be relevant to me lol. also for the first like, show that was like "audition for parts" vs "class recitals" they gave us like a relevant keepsake for it, and that was a nice surprise, since i had a great experience and all. and one of my main [not dance, with lines and everything] experiences being this fourth grade english class scenes from julius caesar, auditioned again, i'm like hell yeah that this has to be nongendered b/c it's all a bunch of guys, so i play a guy, and an antagonist yippee who doesn't die midway through and sounds easy-peasy to be like [be the dictator assassin] lol. it's funny how already i Cared about like, wish we had Effects instead of awkward silence for the drama of that assassination. wish i like, knew fuckall about acting. but the teacher just focused on telling us all to talk louder b/c nobody could be individually mic'd, and in the end you really couldn't hear fuckall of other performances so that was a win. and we got to do it twice b/c some people's parents got stuck in traffic. all i remember of my parents' presence was being like "omg yes i get to stop being here talking to you b/c we get to do that Again hell yeah"

like it's social but in a Parallel way. i'm contributing my part, i know my role, you know yours, i'm fondly remembering sitting in some school lobby having mini muffins with hours to go before our performance, amongst other people but not at all hyped abt interactions with them or at all disappointed abt the absence of any. i enjoyed it all being in front of people, others involved in the show, or the audience, but i wasn't there for any specific feedback, just being Part of that group constructed experience there. truly this case of like....loved all of that exactly as it happened, was on my own shit, did not need any external validation, didn't need a specific kind of Socializing that's supposed to look like having individual interactions with personal friends, had this passion for it that i also was having a perfectly good time exploring on my own, whilest also enjoying working with / learning from whatever instruction i got. like sure wishing i knew fuckall about acting but that it turns out no not everyone necessarily all loves stage acting as The Peak like that, and this comfort and interest with it that comes from like, you have all the practice of Having to perform and mask and act in life against your supposed incorrect abnormalities, but here's this constructive and creative and expansive edition of that art and science. good enough for doing it all through like fourteen