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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago

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Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team.

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face.

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up.

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up.

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back.

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again.

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too.

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her.

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes.

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again.

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs.

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen,

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend.

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence.

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond.

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way.

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening.

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously.

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly.

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana.

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath.

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that.

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately.

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips.

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is.

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours.

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look.

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends.

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage.

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them.

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her.

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger.

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said.

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly.

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again.

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly.

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore.

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate.

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did.

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her.

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh.

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly.

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-”

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender.

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever.

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist.

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel.

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows.

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames.

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother.

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her.

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them.

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently.

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands.

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch.

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be. That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort.

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas.

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them.

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt.

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults.

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side.

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other.

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years.

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe.

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this.

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige.

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes.

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay.

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake.

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly.

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away.

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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mickandmusings · 3 months ago

Text

vi. 'tis the damn season

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?

'Dear Honey,

I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.

Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.

I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.

Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.

My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.

I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.

All my love,

Jake'

Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.

She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.

She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.

Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.

Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.

Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.

Honey would never make it to the library that day.

Two weeks prior...

"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"

Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.

"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"

From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.

Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.

"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"

Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.

"Fine, what'dya want to know?"

Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.

"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."

Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.

"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."

"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"

Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.

Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.

"Definitely not."

"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."

"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."

Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"

Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.

"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."

Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"

Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.

"More than she'll ever know."

"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"

"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"

"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."

Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.

"Honey hates surprises."

"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"

Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.

Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.

"Honey, wait!"

The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.

"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"

Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.

"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"

Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.

"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."

He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.

"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.

"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."

His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.

"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"

He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.

From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:

"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."

Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.

"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"

She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.

"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."

She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."

He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.

"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."

Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.

"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"

The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.

"Why's that, baby?"

Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.

"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."

Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.

"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."

Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.

"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."

She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.

"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"

Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.

"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."

Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.

"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."

Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:

"Yes ma'am."

Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.

"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"

It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.

"Hm? What is it, baby?"

Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.

"Your phone is ringing."

Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:

"Hello?"

"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"

"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.

"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"

"Loud and clear."

"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."

"Love you too."

Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:

"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"

Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.

"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."

Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.

"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."

"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.

"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."

Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.

"Where did that come from?"

"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"

"Baby, I more than liked it."

He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.

"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."

Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.

"I'll get up as soon as you do."

Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.

"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."

"M'fine, just nervous."

Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"

"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."

"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."

Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.

"Want to really surprise them?"

Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.

"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.

"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.

"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."

His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"

Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.

"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.

"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"

Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.

"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.

"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."

"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."

She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.

The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.

"Smart move there, son."

Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."

Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.

Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.

"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."

"Hm, lead the way, baby."

That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.

taglist:

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@mrsevans90

@86laura11

@cmiguelbilinski

*if you asked me/want to be on the taglist and you weren't tagged, pls message me, i would love to add you!!

#jake hangman seresin #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #hangman & honey

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pumpkinprice · 5 months ago

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Hi Amanda!!

I love your works first of all, thank you for feeding us and I'm in total awe of your writing style:))

Second, I keep thinking about Uncle Graves! He's pervy but also sweet and caring when it comes to you. Possessive and jealous when he sees his brother being all fatherly to you when it comes to family dinners, so he takes the initiative to hold your hands under the table and all naughty when he comes to your room, confessing that he's jealous of the way you call your dad "daddy", that he should only be your daddy, all while making love to you:3, thank you♡

You’re such a peach 💖 That really means a lot! :3333

tw: incest (uncle/niece), sex, major daddy kink, dead dove do not eat. mdni.

But yes, Uncle Graves is pervy, but he’s always, always so sweet to you. When he comes over for dinner, he’s always complementing you and giving you little gifts like jewelry. He’s really just trying to compete with your Dad. His brother dotes on you and you light up like a ray of sunshine when he does. So naturally, Phillip gets jealous when he sees all your little interactions because those smiles and laughs should be for him.

At the family dinner, your Uncle will set his hand over yours, trying to hold it. At first, you let go, thinking it was weird, but then got used to the gesture. He’s just being a good uncle, right? He’s friendly and loving like your Dad. And there’s nothing wrong with your Uncle brushing his fingers along your cheek or squeezing your waist. “Just being friendly, darlin'.”

When it gets late, you say goodnight to your two favorite people, giving them both a sweet kiss on the cheek. Phillip can feel his cock harden in his pants at the feel of your soft, warm lips against his skin. All he can imagine is those same lips wrapping around his dick and those gorgeous eyes looking up at him as you swallow him all the way down.

He waits for about ten minutes before he makes some excuse and heads upstairs to your room. You’re in the process of getting undressed, left only in your bra and panties, but not at all surprised to see him. You left your door unlocked for a reason. Your Uncle stands at the doorway, drinking you in. “You are so goddamn beautiful, you know that? It’s not fair that my brother gets all your attention.”

His kisses are sweet and tender, nothing at all like the other guys who’ve kissed you. They're always so rough and demanding. His big, calloused hands roam your body, touching all the places that make you shudder and moan.

He takes you swiftly, but gently, his huge cock stretching your warm cunt, making you cry out in pleasure. “Let me be your Daddy. Be my girl. God, you feel so fucking good.” His mouth sucks and bites at your skin in effort to claim you as his. He looks down, watching how good your pussy takes him and the squelching sound from how wet you are is incredible. “Say it, baby. Let me hear it.”

“Daddy. You’re my Daddy!” You scream, tossing your head back.

Your moans are uncontrollable now and there’s no way your real Dad doesn’t know what’s happening. That just makes Phillip more excited, knowing you picked him and he’s won. He’s fucking into you deeper and harder, moaning about how you’re such a good girl and how much he loves you. You cum hard around him, pussy gushing all over his hips and your pretty pink sheets. “God, daddy.. it’s everywhere,” you whine, still cumming.

“That’s my sweet, sweet girl,” Phillip groans. He pulls out, wrapping his hand around his cock, giving it few pumps before he's cumming all over your stomach. "Daddy's girl..."

#tw: incest #cw: incest #asks 💌#userasc #dead dove do not eat #dddne #uncle!phillip #coddrb

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aezuria · 7 months ago

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Hear me out.. happy Golden Retriever bf x broody black Cat gf, but it's Jason Grace x daughter of hades reader 👀👀

*ੈ✎ light of my life, where are you?

content: jason grace x daughter of hades! reader

╰┈▸ warnings: none (until the ending oopsie)

librarian's annotations: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON AND JUST SKIP THE ENDING IF U DONT WANT ANGST

maybe it was your gloomy disposition, or the fact that you were a daughter of hades, either way, most people avoided you like the plague. you didn't mind it all too much—you were usually one for solitude.

that was until you met jason grace. you disliked him from the start. dislike, not hate, because you couldn't bear to hate the person who always stuck up for your brother. but he was too bright, too overbearing for you. very much not your style.

(that's what they all say at the start)

he was just too good to be true! how could he be all these things everyone claimed him to be? they just had to be exaggerating.

but when he flashed his dazzling smile and tender gaze, you knew that all the rumors were true. even so, you pried your eyes away from him. you would not be wooed by a roman so easily!

jason did not make it easy for you. he followed you around camp like a lost puppy. he tried to be subtle, but his tall form wasn't exactly hard to spot. you went to your cabin? he followed you to the door, claiming he wanted to see nico. you went to the training grounds? he picked up a lance and started examining it a little too hard. when you finally confronted him about it, he just laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, saying, "i was trying to work up the courage to ask you to be friends."

how were you supposed to not like him after that?

despite your lack of romantic endeavors, you were sure that friends didn't do what jason did. he opened the door for you, made sure you ate proper meals—and sure, those acts were pretty "just friends" level. but he also tied your shoes, put flowers in your hair, and hugged you so warmly whenever you were feeling especially down. you felt the unmistakable flutter in your heart whenever he did those things, instead of your initial distaste for him.

your confusion was answered the next evening. you swore nico had muttered something about jason being the only guy (besides him) he'd trust with you, right before telling you to go into the woods. "there's a surprise there," he had explained. "just trust me, okay?"

the sun was starting to set, its rays darting between the leaves and casting a soft glow on the grass. "go to the woods... can he be any more specific?" you muttered, before you caught a familiar head of blond hair in the corner of your eye. you turned and walked towards him, brushing away the branches as you did so.

"y/n!" jason beamed as he caught sight of you entering the clearing. he straightened up and messed with something behind his back. he shifted his feet and pulled out a bouquet, offering it to you shyly. "i asked the dryads what your favorites were. do you like them? did i organize them properly? are these actually not your favorites and they were just lying to me-"

"jason." you cut him off and smiled, taking the bouquet and smelling the freshly picked flowers. "i love them, thank you."

he swore his heart stopped. your smile was the most gorgeous sight he's ever seen. you were like an angel; why was it that no one thought to make you smile more often? he met your content expression with a wide beam of his own.

"really? i'm glad!" jason sighed in relief, before clearing his throat. "um," his voice cracked, face flushing red at that. "i wanted to ask if i could be your boyfriend? i just, you're so sweet and strong, and pretty... anyone would be lucky to be yours. but, i want to be that lucky guy, if you'll let me?" he looked into your eyes so earnestly, there was no other answer but yes.

"you know i love you, right?" jason whispered into your hair. your warmth brought him comfort in his otherwise cold cabin, empty and unfeeling, just like his father's attitude to him.

"uh huh. and i love you too." you mumbled sleepily into his chest. "but do you have to go?"

he laughed softly. "yes, i do." jason combed through your hair, silk between his fingertips. "i'll be back before you know it."

"do you ever think that we don't deserve this?" you whispered, eyes already shut as sleep slowly overtook you. "that we shouldn't have to fight someone else's battles?"

"yeah." jason rested his chin on the top of your head and squeezed you tighter. "sometimes i think that too."

shadows pried your eyes open, then slipped around your heart and squeezed. he was gone. you could feel it. you knew and yet you hoped and prayed that you were wrong. he was supposed to come home later, right? he would.

but the darkness settled in your stomach and weighed you down until morning.

and so you waited and waited, for nico's familiar shadow, or a chariot riding from the sky. what came was the former. you felt the comforting coldness of your brother's appearance, but jason's warmness was nowhere to be held. nico's dark eyes were rimmed with barely kept tears, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.

"he's gone." your brother's voice was as dead as jason, as final as his last breath.

never had you begged and pleaded to your father so much; never had you needed to. never had you imagined a life without the sun, your sun. never had the ghost of your soul escaped in a pitiful shriek of agony, or became one with the dirt as salty tears.

and you knew, just as you knew death, that a part of you had died with him.

#*ੈ✎ stories #jason grace #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo hoo toa

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 1 year ago

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I don't know if this has been done before, if it has ignore my ask but i was wondering if you could do a set of headcanons explaining how the boys show love? Like do they compliment? Do they do things for their s/o? Are they constantly expressing affection or is it special when they show love? Do they do grand gestures or is it more of a low-key thing? Again I haven't read all of your posts so if this has been done already I'm sorry. It feels like something that would have been done before but I can't find it.

A/N: This request has been making its round in the fandom, but I haven’t done this yet! I’ve done dating headcanons before, but not an in-depth of how the boys show their love! Thank you so much for requesting, I was super jazzed to write this!

DARRY CURTIS

For Darry, I definitely think he’s acts of service or quality time as his giving love language, and maybe words of affirmation for receiving?

He’s giving the vibes that he’d always be trying to do things for you or having you around, I really think those moments are seriously when he’s the most happy and thriving

So for acts of service specifically, I can see him being the boyfriend to carry your bags or hold doors for you, cook you dinner, or do chores around the house that benefit you like picking up your favorite foods when he goes grocery shopping

Also! Doing your laundry! Got a feeling you’re spending so much time around the house, your clothes work themselves into the laundry cycle and Darry makes sure to leave them on the foot of the bed for you, carefully folded up

And with quality time, he just likes having you around him, y’know? It’s kind of self-explanatory-

Boyo just wants to be with you, watching a movie, cooking, shopping, sitting, working, watching, Darry wants to be at your side and just stay there, hanging out in your orbit

SODAPOP CURTIS

Physical touch and words of affirmation as his giving love language and quality time as his receiving language!

I think Sodapop has a little problem with wondering if people really like him or not? Like if they just think he’s pretty or actually like him? So going out of your way to hang out with him makes him feel really appreciated

But he’s definitely gotta have his hands on you, both as a way to get out all of his chaotic energy and as a way of loving on you at all hours of the day!

Hands on your waist, keeping you close when you go dancing, toying with your fingers, or nuzzling along the line of your jaw when you cuddle, Sodapop is very tactile and very dexterous

And the words of affirmation, oh my good Lord, this boy will shower you with so much sweetness that you’ll feel like you took a bath in syrup

He thinks you’re pretty, thinks you’re smart, thinks you’re incredible, gorgeous, hard-working, lovely, funny, you’re everything to him and he’s gonna let you know it every day

PONYBOY CURTIS

Pony’s giving love languages are words of affirmation and quality time and his receiving is physical touch because I say so

Pet his hair, kiss his cheek, lace your fingers with his and tug him around, pressing into his side, Pony absolutely melts whenever you touch him

Words are really kind of his thing? He’s a writer babes, let me just tell you, you’re gonna be immortalized in his writing as his muse, forever and ever no matter what happens between you two

He writes you love letters and little notes, chock full of compliments and affirmatives about how much he cares about you! I highly suggest keeping these and thumbing at the corners when you miss him <3

And quality time? You guys do spend a lot of time together, but it’s usually around the guys, so Ponyboy does try and take some time out so it’s just the two of you guys together

You go to the movies together a lot, do your homework together (either at his place or yours), and go on walks to watch the sunset like the hopeless romantics you both are!

DALLAS WINSTON

You can argue with me all you want, but Dally’s receiving is words of affirmation and his givings are acts of service and physical touch

He may be all big and tough, but Dally’s got a soft spot for you and your words always manage to resonate with him, he values your thoughts and opinions over anyone else’s

Yes, I know that he’s an asshole with a bunch of unresolved trauma, but he’s got some gallant traits and I think that he knows how to treat a lover, knows how to be a good person

He defends you endlessly, guards your drink, picks you up from wherever you are, and takes you out all the time. Dally wants to do things for you, okay? Ya might as well let him do what he wants

And physical touch is such a straightforward concept for him, you can’t look me in the eye and convince me that he’s not one of the touchiest boys, you just can’t, okay?

So many kisses you think you’ll never breathe again, hands finding homes in the dips of your hips or the pockets of your jeans, linking his fingers with yours to give you a little more freedom but still keeping you close when you guys go out!

JOHNNY CADE

Johnnycake my beloved, I’m gonna give him words of affirmation and acts of service for giving and words of affirmation as receiving too!

I think he’s got a rough relationship with touch that’s too long to discuss here, but I really do think he flourishes under compliments! Tell him he’s smart, tell him you like his hair when it’s ungreased, just tell him you like him for crying out loud-

Johnny likes to talk with you? Which seems weird cause he’s often painted as this shy and quiet kid who never really talks to anyone, but he’s got some sass, we see it when he’s with Ponyboy

So he talks with you and I kid you not, every other statement out of his mouth is a compliment your way, he’s constantly praising you for every little thing under the sun, I’m not even joking

And he’s always down to do things for you! You need something, he’s jumping to get it for you or already giving up what he has to give it over to you

Johnny’s personally offended whenever you try to downplay your needs or thoughts, he wants so badly to help you out and show you how much he loves you, I’m begging you just ask if you need something

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

This handsy little man definitely has physical touch as one of his giving languages and I think gift-giving is another! I’m torn between acts of service and quality time as his receiving

Two-Bit likes having you around and will often call you up just to hang out or join him on whatever adventure he finds himself in, whether that’s just watching his sister or hitting up a part in the neighborhood

He shows a lot of his love through little trinkets? You’ve probably got shelves full of the little doo-dads he’s given you-

Some of them are stolen, some of them were handmade, and some were actually bought, but all of them, you can rest assured, were given to you with nothing but love and adoration

Hands, hands, hands, if Two’s not touching you, he’s not going to have a good day and he will throw a hellacious fit if you don’t let him keep at least one finger linked with yours

Two likes to have his hands on your hips or tracing the lines of your body, he’s a sucker for your eyes and likes to draw shapes on your skin, especially over your stomach and shoulder blades!

STEVE RANDLE

Love languages for Steve-o are acts of service and words of affirmation for giving and physical touch for receiving!

I think he’d benefit from you showering him in hugs and kisses? Tracing the greased swirls of his hair and squeezing his hand whenever you go to link your fingers together-

With acts of service, he’s constantly trying to do everything for you, man’s a cheerleader and wants nothing more out of life than to be at your beck and call

Carrying your backpack or shopping bags, driving you around when you guys go out on the town and all that! He will not let you pay for anything, it’s a fight every time you try to pay for food-

Cheerleader also literally means nothing but compliments, okay? He’s got nothing but kind words to give to you in he’s gonna tell you all about it, every single thought that passes through that head of his

Wearing an outfit he likes? Compliments and kisses. Helped him out with a car at the DX? Tells you how well you did and how you’re a far better helper than Sodapop ever was

TIM SHEPARD

Darling Timothy Shepard has acts of service and physical touch as his giving love languages and acts of service for receiving too

It means a lot to him when you do things, helps him know that you really do care for him like you’ve been saying, it’s that reassurance he needs, especially if you’re taking care of him by taking care of his siblings

Giving acts of service looks like him defending you, picking you up or driving you around town for things other than dates, and paying for dinner when you guys go out

You’re his doll, y’know? He’s never really had anyone steady to take care of him so he’s gonna make sure that he’s steady in your relationship, he’s gonna be there always to take care of you

He’s iffy with receiving physical touch but gives it out very freely, mostly focused through touches or kisses

He’ll run his fingers through your hair, trace your cheekbones, hold your hand or slip a hand into your back pocket, kiss your cheeks and the spot below your ear, making sure you feel his love <3

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly’s got physical touch and acts of service as his giving love languages, much like his older brother, but his receiving is words of affirmation!

He needs to be smothered in kind words, okay? He won’t believe them at first but just keep it up and he’ll be a happy little Curly in no time, you’ve got to get through that tough outside

As for physical touch, it’s self-explanatory. He likes to have his hands on you and he’s gonna touch you all the time, just as long as you don’t mind, of course, he’d never do something you’re not okay with

Specifically, I’m talking about him tracing shapes into your skin when you’re laying next to each other, his hand finding a home on the inside of your thigh when you’re sitting in a booth at the diner, tons and tons of kisses all over your face, neck, and hands

Acts of service looks like him giving over his jacket when it gets cold in the evenings, sharing the fries on his plate when he can tell you’re still hungry, carrying your backpack down the school hallways

He doesn’t always know how to show his love through words or anything, so he relies heavily on actions and doing things for you as a way to try and make sure you know how he feels about you

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thirstydemisexual · 1 year ago

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22 and Nanami please?<33

hihi of course my love

TEASING|| Nanami Kento X reader

Warning: smut, p in v, Kento doesn't let your misbehavior slide

No beta we die like my self-respect

It was a long day for Nanami, that day he had four scheduled meetings with small breaks in between and to say he was TIRED was an understatement.

He was in the last meeting on the day before he clocked out and the only solace he found to survive it was the the thought of coming home.

Only twenty-five more minutes of listening to his colleagues bullcrap ideas and shitty business plans. That's when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Normally he wouldn't check his phone during a meeting but the only possible person to be texting him was his dear wife and she knew he had meetings today, she wouldn't text him unless there was something of importance.

WRONG

Nanami felt blood rush south as his phone loaded the photo you sent him, capturing you wearing his favorite lingerie set that he bought for you. Looking all pretty, your soft figure highlighted by the bows and lace on the set. Captioned: "How's the meeting?"

Oh he would show you

Those were possibly some of the LONGEST twenty-five minutes of his life. and as he rushed home he couldn't stop the thought of just how hard he was going to fuck you. He was going to make sure you wouldn't be able to walk the day after.

As he entered your shared home he smelt the dinner you were just about to be plating when he slammed the door behind him. And there you stood by the kitchen counter wearing only lingerie and your pink apron. You looked at him with with wide eyes, almost like you didn't know why he rushed trough the door in such manner.

"Oh there you are my love, I was beginning to worry. You didn't answer my text" you said batting your eyelashes in that way that made you seem oh so innocent.

Nanami didn't respond, approaching you fast while he took of his tie.

You went to speak again before he turned you around and bent you on the kitchen counter that was behind you, pressing his bulge in his pants again your ass.

"You enjoy teasing me huh?" he said, grasping your hands and tying them behind your back with his tie. "I'll show you just how much I missed you today"

He didn't waist time taking of his pants, he just lowered them and his boxers enough so that is cock was now resting between your backside and his still clothed stomach.

"I missed you so much Kento, so so much" you cooed, already anticipating the night you were about to have as he moved your panties just enough to guarantee him access to your already soaking cunt, wasting no time entering you.

You moaned as he stretched you out, you were very active but every single time the girth of him made that stretch sting a bit but it was always quick to turn to pleasure.

He rutted into you as hard and fast as he hadn't done in a while, one hand sneaking to your front to tease your nipples through the fabrics of your bra while the other was rested firmly on your hips keeping you still.

"Kento- I'm coming-" You stated arching your back, when he stilled. "NO!" You whined under him, frustrated from the denied release

"I'm not done with you yet" he said pulling out and turning you to pick you up and trowing you on his shoulder. Landing a sound smack to your bottom while at it and started heading for the bedroom, dinner forgetter on the counter.

"You'll come when I let you, that's what you get for teasing"

That was gonna be a long night

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk kento #nanami kento smut #Nanami kento x fem reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami #jjk

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 1 year ago

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Um...what about divorce! andy barber x his new fiance going to beach with hardcore smut! =^-^=

Beach Day

"Fuuuck, I needed this, y/n, you were right! The weather's perfect today and the water feels so damn good. I can't believe we're the only ones here!" I tell her loudly as I take off my neon green goggles, exit the water, and head to our shared spot in the sand.

I run a hand threw my drenched brunnette tips, gazing at your curvy figure becoming more distinct as I get closer to her. The light breeze wraps around me, making me shiver as water drips off my body in heavy rivulets. Turning to the spectacularly clear ocean water, its impossible not to admire the crashing waves. Sand grains clump between my toes as I walk backwards towards the love of my life, stopping a foot in front of the extra XL towel with her and all of our belongings on it.

"You gotta come out into the water with me, babygirl. I know for a fact you'd enjoy it. Feels so good and the views amazing. There's all kinds of sea life in there to see, honey. Blew my mind!" I say, turning to get a view of my gorgeous girl laid out on her striped beach chair.

She looks up at me from her book through her Chanel sunglasses as I study how fuckin pretty y/n is, even with her cute little round nose scrunched up in distaste. Gripping her sunset colored towel in the front to keep it shut tight, she leans over to set her book down and pick up a water bottle.

"I don't think so, Andy. This how I enjoy the beach. Especially right after a hair appointment. Do your thang tho." She tells me while flickin her long y/h/c hair off her shoulders, voice full of attitude.

"Oh is that how it is?" I ask her feisty ass with a raised brow.

"Yeah, damn right that's how it is. Think cause ya ass fine you gone get me to do any and everything." She grumbles at me, taking a swig of water.

Walking up to her, I gently grab the water from her slender fingers and take a quick drink before setting it down next to the chair. I lean down over her to speak near her ear.

"It's not really that hard to get you to do what I want, is it pretty girl?" I ask her softly, skimming my nose down her neck.

She smells so fuckin good, just like the gardenia perfume I told her was my favorite on her. That, mixed with her shea butter lotion, got me damn near drooling so I take a stronger whiff into her smooth chocolate skin.

"You callin me easy, boy?" Her tone missing all the bite it just held.

Her question makes me chuckle but I don't answer with words. Choosing instead to respond by kissing her neck softly, groaning at the way her body immediately responds to me.

Y/n becomes pliant, her head tilting to offer me space to do more. Her small, quiet gasps let me know all that earlier attitude is for show; I know I have my future little wife wrapped around my finger. Thoughts of my submissive woman have me grippin the arms of her chair tight and my dick chubbin up in the bright yellow swim trunks she picked out for me. Fuck, it never takes much for this woman to make me hard as a rock.

She doesn't notice though, her head back and eyes shut tight. Her perfect white teeth start to lightly gnaw on her plump bottom lip as I graduate to adding soft licks in-between my kisses to her delicate skin. That seems to register though, and her hushed noises switch to lusty whimpers and pants.

Those sounds are always music to my ears; love hearing and watching her bask in the way my touch makes her feel. She's so damn vocal, so sensitive to my ministrations.

I pull away reluctantly, standing to my full height to observe my woman. I'm delighted to see my girl staring back up at me with a heaving chest, open mouth and clenching thighs. I pull her sunglasses off and set them by our water bottle.

"Stand up. Towel off." I order abruptly, holding my hand out to her.

"But.. But Andy, I-"

I don't give her a chance to finish as I quickly reach for the hair at her nape with damp fingers and snatching her head back firmly. The silence that follows y/n's surprised gasp satisfies me as I repeat my words and wait for her response. Her quick nodd prompts me to release her and step back, raising my hand again.

She stands at a snail pace, but her cute skittle manicured hands are already untucking the towel and dropping it into my palm. Anxious y/e/c eyes stare at the sand as I asses her fit. The bathing suit wrappin around those luscious curves, MY curves, seductively is NOT the same one momma had laid out on the bed this morning. The sight of my masterpiece in this scrap of cloth has me forgettin where the fuck we are as I grab my cock through my shorts and squeeze.

"You changed your mind.." Is all I can say while leering at every inch of her.

"I ordered it a few years ago, but I could never find the courage to wear it." Y/n confesses, her eyes stuck on her toes digging into the sand.

"What changed?" I ask her curiously, lifting her chin with my index finger.

"You." She answers simply, beautiful eyes finally meeting mine.

Without thinking I press a passionate kiss to my women's deep red painted lips. She moans against my mouth when I hump our hips together repeatedly, pokin the tip of my hard dick against her clit as wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close.

"Your so fuckin amazing in every way, I'm gonna give you my all for the rest of our lives. I love you y/n." I vow when I break the kiss.

I peck her lips once more before spinnin her in a half circle, y/n now standing where I was and me in her place. I turn her to face the water then sit, bringing her to plop in my lap.

Fuck, those fat ass pussy lips feel like heaven against my dick, even through the material. I groan at the sensation of her surroundin me, taking her towel and spread it over us to hide our lower halves. She's havin none of that though, already so fuckin wet that I can feel her soakin through my damp shorts as she leans forward and pops her ass up and down on my clothed cock. The towel drops to the sand as I grip at her waist to steady myself.

"So you really like my bathing suit, Daddy?"

Her alluring tone has me groanin again out loud as I watch her body twist sensually with her head held back. The arch in y/n's spine and the wind blowing layers of her silky hair down her back is nothing short of an epic vision of flawlessness.

"So fuckin much honey. Hands down one of my favorites."

I watch as she reaches for the cloth hiding my prize between her perfect brown thighs and move it to the side. I move at the speed of light to unsheathe my thick dick and offer it to her. Her enticing high pitched moans boom around us as I lewdly stare at the sticky wetness of her pussy glistening in the sun. Cant help but to squeeze at her waist a bit more as my vixen teasingly sliding her pussy up and down my shaft in quick strides.

"Ohhh sh-shit honey, wait-"

But then I'm moaning loud at how my girls swiveling her hips in perfect circles over me, saturating my throbbing dick and balls in her juices. The feeling boiling in my ball sack got me wantin to tell momma to slow down but I wouldn't dream of stoppin this sexy women grindin all over my cock. Her pleading whines for me to fuck her rise in volume still and I gotta tense, abs rippling as I put in real fuckin effort not to bust my nut.

"Daddy put it in! Why won't you fuck meeee?"

Y/n's sobs alone are enough to make me wanna nut on the spot and I'm thinkin I might need to take a page outta babygirls page, beg her to give me a moment of reprieve.

"OK, j-just gimme a sec. Stop movin, momma. Don't wanna cum."

I try to warn her but she's so fuckin desperate for me and I understand why as I notice her rubbing frantic circles on her messy little button. Its unfortunate for me when one of her outta sync thrusts has my tip catchin at her pussy lips and I know I'm screwed. Baby girl's loud ass gasp is way too fuckin gleeful as she forcefully sits on my dick.

"Yeeeees! Gimme my dick, Daddy- lemme have it, pleeeease! Haaaaah fuck! Yesyesyesyes!"

There's not a single thing I can do as my eyes roll back and I immediately start to spurt cum into my future wife. I can't even muster any energy to feel pathetic as I nut gush after gush into her heavenly cavern. It's exhilarating, steals the breath from lungs as my dick pulsates from how her perfect little pussy strangles it.

Serving my woman jerky stabs, I aid her in bouncin ontop of me while she sobs my name. My balls smack against her wetly as she leans back against me, arm reaching out to hold the back of my neck. I abandon my hold at y/n's waist to wrap both arms around her tummy, my right moving farther down to join hers to rub her clit.

The feeling of her seizuring in my lap while squirting against my twitchin cock forces me to spray a couple more jets of cum into that tight little puss. I refuse to stop rubbing between her legs, making my poor girl come hard as fuck with jubilant shouts of my name. Reveling at the clutch on my dick, I praise y/n for being such a good girl.

"That's it honey, I want it all. My special girl deserves this and more. And I'm gonna get it for her. But you gotta come for Daddy first, sweetheart. Cum all over me, y/n. Good girl, such a good fuckin girl."

Shes thanking me enthusiastically, profusely. I can finally cease when the last dose of her love gushes out. A mixture of our cum oozes out around my cock, the breezing cooling the sticky liquid plastering my thighs and balls. I slide a finger throught the mess, writing my initials with the sticky wetness on her trembling thigh. It takes me a second to speak through my heaving breaths to the limp woman laying on my chest.

"Well, I know you only got your hair done yesterday but.. You sure you don't wanna get in the water, sweeetheart?"

My girl can't help but to laugh out loud at my one track mind, jabbing me in the side with a tired elbow.

#black reader #daddy k!nk #black fanfiction #all readers #andy barber #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #submisive and breedable #creamp!e

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eventinelysplayground · 3 months ago

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The Sun & Rain

This fic is part of the Ikemen Villains gift exchange hosted by @aquagirl1978 (thanks for the beta read). My giftee is @honeybyte who wanted something fluffy, warm and intimate. This is the first time I have written for an OC that wasn't my own and I took a look at the pics/info on their page and also provided to come up with what I think is a good representation. I really hope that I was able to do them justice and that you enjoy the fic! Joss and Liam share some snacks and a calming night together. WC approx 1040 purely fluff, banner from @natimiles-edits.

The hallways of crown castle were usually quiet at this hour but tonight there was the faint sound of a melody being muttered followed by booted footfalls.

Joss walked at a steady pace towards their lover's room. They knew he would still be up even if it was late, Liam wasn't a good sleeper after all but lately it had been worse it seemed. So tonight Joss had had enough of it and decided to do something about it hence the silver tray laden with snacks they had made and their favorite calming tea.

Turning a corner they stopped briefly and took a final glance over the tray wanting to make sure nothing had been forgotten. They nodded in satisfaction and smiled to themself briefly.

I never thought my worst idea would lead me here, and to him.

Their internal thoughts were referring to that fateful night when on their way home they'd done something out of character for them leading to them stumbling upon some members of Crown conducting ‘business’ in an alleyway and the resulting deal they’d made to safeguard their life.

I really wish he would take better care of himself though. I know he's trying to but those wounds the other day were pretty bad.

Joss let out an aggregated sigh and continued on their way down the hallway until they got to Liam's door. They quickly looked down at the tray then up at the door then back at the tray again, it was too uneven for them to feel comfortable trying to balance it in one hand but how else would they knock? After a brief pause they shrugged and kicked at the bottom of the door with their heavy boots.

“Liam? It's just me.”

“Oh Joss! Come on in.”

Joss’ cheeks warmed at the tone of Liam's voice and a smile spread across their face before quickly falling.

“I'd love to but I can't my-”

“What!? Why can't you?”

Joss' head dropped and they released a small sigh.

“Because my hands are full.”

“Oh!”

They heard hurried movement on the other side of the door and didn't have to wait long for it to swing open.

“I'm sorry about that Joss, here let me take that for you.”

“No, I got it.”

Joss walked over to the coffee table and set the tray down while simultaneously pushing aside some of the many gifts from Liam's numerous admirers.

“Those look good!”

Liam's eyes were wide as he looked over the tray and Joss couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

“It’s just some simple snacks and tea.”

“Maybe, but you made them right? So that makes them special, let's see I'll have…this one.”

Liam popped a cookie into his mouth and nodded as he chewed.

“This is really good.”

Joss picked up their own cookie and sat on the edge of Liam's bed.

“So how was rehearsal today?”

Liam walked over and sat cross legged on his bed beside Joss, hands full of snacks.

“It was such an adventure! First they couldn't find–”

And so Joss and Liam spent the next few hrs just talking about nothing and everything. The conversation had flowed easily between them even after they had polished off the last of the tea and snacks. It hadn't always been this way though, in the beginning they both had built their walls up high and sturdy, especially Liam's. Eventually as they became closer to Liam they began chipping away at his wall slowly but surely. Even now they were still working on it but they had always been a hard worker and it was nights like this when their persistence paid off the most. The grandfather clock rang out the late hour just as Joss stifled a yawn.

“I didn't realize it was so late! I really shouldn't keep you up any longer, I know how important getting enough sleep is to you.”

“I'm not tired yet.”

They hated lying but they could tell something was still bothering Liam and even if he wouldn't say what it was they still wanted to be there for him.

“But…”

“Hey Liam, do you think I could ask you for something?”

“Of course! You know I'll do anything for you Joss.”

Joss smiled, their green eyes seeming to softly glow.

“Could you maybe check my back for me?”

“Oh, sure I can do that.”

Joss couldn't help but smile at Liam's enthusiastic answer as they stood up from the bed. They had their overalls half off and linen shirt tossed across the foot of the bed in no time then promptly sprawled out in the middle of the bed. Liam's enthusiasm hadn't wained and he eagerly climbed up onto his bed and began running his fingers along Joss' back delicately following the outline of every mark. Soon soft little hums started falling from Joss' lips as Liam's fingers continued to dance along their skin.

Joss' vitiligo used to bother them immensely when they were younger and more than once they had wanted to wish it away, then it was just an unchangeable part of them until eventually it became something more, something special. They still remembered how Liam had first tentatively asked them about it, and how he expressed such a childlike curiosity the first time he traced the outlines along their arms. It had becoming a soothing ritual, one that met some unspoken need in both of them while bringing them closer together.

“Thank you for keeping me company tonight Joss.”

*Soft breathing*

“Joss?”

Liam pulled back so he could see his lover's face and he smiled to himself.

“You know, for somebody who once said they weren't very romantic you sure do a good job at it.”

Liam carefully leaned down and placed a kiss upon the back of Joss' neck.

“You always seem to know when I need cheering up somehow and do everything you can to make me smile and you’re so warm, like my own personal sun. I'm so lucky to have you so, stay with me forever okay?”

Liam let out a contented sigh and laid down to snuggle up against Joss, letting their sun-like warmth seep through him and chase away the rain in his heart.

#ikemen villains #ikemen villains liam #ikevil #ikevil liam #ikevil oc #ikevil fanfiction #ikevil gift exchange

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lemongogo · 1 year ago

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what's your process for coloring like? the look of that elendira is so textured and interesting, i can't figure out how you do it

AA THANK YOUU ^__^ !! textures & brushwork are my favorite things abt my art, so im happy you find it interesting hehe . its SOO cool to look at & so much fun to draw imo

i prefer to color by building in layers , if that makes sense 🤔!! hundreds of them !! such that i'm always drawing on Top of previous layers, working from big & messy blocks of color to, eventually, small and refined blocks of color until it feels processed enough. as a result, i rarely ever erase (!!) and i rarely ever draw lineart aside from the initial sketch

a rough, patchy textured brush is key here, as it'll give you dimension and variability w/ your colors. i recommend "Brush and various sets of fountain pen style (万年筆風ブラシと色々セット)" on Clip Studio (ID: 1679706) !! :3

im terrible with explanations though, so i'm going to show a step by step of that elendira drawing if you dont mind :3

sketch layer !! because i mostly render through color alone, i try to make this as close to the finished thing as possible . ^__^ i hateee drawing the same thing over and over and like the expressivity and movement of my sketches anyways , so the more i can preserve at this step, the better. if u were to look at a side by side of my sketches and finished pieces, youd notice a lot of those og lines are present in the final drawing :3

2. flats !! pretty self explanatory, but the solid background gives me an idea of where the figure begins & ends while the colors themselves help distinguish whats what . i stick to ambient lighting @ this point because im usually not sure what i want to do with the overall palette or lighting yet . having two tones (ex, dark and light in her hair or dark and light on her skin) can also help in identifying key features early on that u wanna preserve. as you build layer by layer, sometimes these areas will remain untouched and i think it makes for a rly lovely feel at the end

3. start blocking !!! to be totally honest with you, i dont really know what i do here HAHAHA. like i just scribble the shit out of it, usually focusing on what i might want to do with lighting (ex: grey areas to accentuate folds in her costume). i think i like to start "erasing" the sketch where possible by coloring on top of it .. like if you look at her hat or her arm , you can tell i'm starting to get a sense of the shapes i like vs the ones i dont. it's at this point that the final image starts to emerge in my mind , like im gradually pulling her from a tarpit of scribbles until shes recognizable lol. chipping away at the marble until i can free her. tbh.

4. keep blockingg...when u think u are done , block some more . as you can probably see, the brushwork becomes more intentional as i add more shape, with specific focus on line weight. this is also where the patchiness of that textured brush comes in - notice how none of the colors seem totally uniform (ex: the red cross or the original sketchlines for her waist). you can see bits and pieces of the layers underneath pushing through and i really like that !! ^__^ its very fun and sketchy to me, so i try to keep them around. those areas are also great to colorpick from, because it'll give you "new" colors to work w/ that are already part of your palette.

5. GRADIENTS & GRADIENT MAPS !! TONE CURVE !! COLOR PICKER !! this is the best stage tbh. flatten your image so its all on one layer and just go crazy with all the color settings in ur program. add gradient layers and set them to darken, or overlay, or subtract, orrr. lighten or dodge glow or divide or soft/hard light.! OR!! edit the hue, saturation, luminosity and contrast.and then color pick from these edits, block even more on top of ur image, flatten, color edit again, etc. etc. until u feel satisfied.

ANYWAYSS . i hope that makes sense @__@ sry i wrote this out and deleted it like 23 times trying to make it make More sense but thats what ive got HAHA i hope its useful though :3 !

#SRY I STRUGGLED 2 EXPLAIN THIS #dude its like my brain bcomes stuffed w/ cotton anytime i try 2 write #i hope it makes sense tho..#it also probably sounds so redundant to make new layer one after the other for just a few brushstrokes #but those brushes i linked have a multiply property so if you draw on top of prev lines they'll create dark patches #and so if im working over a large area ill generally need like . 5 layers each with one brushstroke :sob: if that makes sense #this one had . 84 i think. total. layers i mean. the merylvash one had 300+ HAHAH so it rly depends #like YEAAH i could just use a normal brush but i really like the way this looks #andd sometimes the multiply function works really well or will give me the proper shadow tone im looking for #anywas.wanywaysn anyways #asktag #anonymous #long post

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pikahlua · 8 months ago

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so, I dunno if you typically answer questions like this, as it seems like most of your Asks are related to dissecting the manga, but!

in your opinion, what's the best way to write a post-canon fic without getting wrapped up in keeping it loyal to the still-unfolding story?

for context: i'm writing a (potentially long) post-war-arc fic at the minute, but seeing as how the arc is still ongoing, I'm finding it challenging to not stop and rewrite and every time i learn something new. perhaps this is a stupid problem to have lmao, but you seem so good at untangling the MHA narrative threads, so I guess I'm just curious if you have any tips for folks trying to weave 'em in our own way?

thanks in advance, and thanks for all your hard work in general <3

Aww I love this ask!

So if you think about it, there are plenty of great post-canon fanfics out there that were written without the full context of the series. The lack of information those stories have about the end of MHA does nothing to hurt those fics.

You have several options really. You can commit to adapting your story in future chapters to what may happen in the MHA canon as it goes, but that's a pretty difficult path to take. I started my fanfic based on the assumption we would eventually learn AFO's real name, but now I'm realizing I'm going to have to come up with a solution to the possibility he may have no other name. You could pick a cutoff point in MHA and write a story that doesn't rely on any information that might come later. You could write based on an alternate set of events to fill in the blanks so that your story is canon-adjacent and divergent. In any case, you have to accept the fact that you're writing a story before the source material has ended.

The real question you have to ask yourself is: what does "keeping it loyal" mean to you? I'd advise you to remember that, no matter what, you're not writing something that will be part of the official canon. That gives you a lot of space to move around. If you try to stick too rigidly to the canon when you don't know how MHA ends yet, then ask yourself what your story is even about in the first place. If your story is so up-in-the-air right now that the important beats in it could change at the drop of a hat depending on what happens in the canon, then you don't have a story; you just have an idea. There's nothing wrong with that per se. Plenty of authors write without knowing where their story is going or how it ends yet.

My suspicion though is that's not your problem. I'm guessing that you're just worried about small details or references to events in the canon that may incidentally occur in your story. To the best of your ability I would advise that you don't worry about such things. Just write KNOWING you will do that. It's a feature of fanfic to do so, not a bug. Anyone reading your fanfic will know that.

So now I come back to the question about what does "keeping it loyal" mean? I am writing an AU fanfic. I have to ask myself often what I care about when it comes to "keeping it loyal" because AUs have the potential to diverge so far from the canon material they're practically their own original stories. In this case, "keeping it loyal" to me is about the characters. When I write these characters, are they behaving in the way I would expect them to in the canon? I've chosen major events in my characters' backgrounds to make them behave similarly to how they would in canon because to me, the appeal of an AU is in seeing how my favorite characters would behave in a new environment. By extension, I've also chosen some events to happen in my fanfic that maintain similar themes to the canon. My characters may have to change some from their canon counterparts based on the specific events that happen to them, but there is a core vision of the canon in my heart I always try to come back to.

It's a lot easier to keep that distance between my story and the MHA canon because I'm writing an AU, and that helps me to answer your question because the obvious things my story and the canon have in common are the characters and the story themes. Those two elements would be my answer to you. The line becomes grayer when you're writing a story set in-universe to the canon. My best advice is to not get caught up in those details. It's far more important that you write and get out your ideas. You can always come back and edit things later, EVEN AFTER PUBLISHING. That's the forgiving nature of fanworks. That said, I personally think canon-divergent/alternate canon stories are supremely underrated, so I would embrace the label. It's up to you if you want to do that or just try to adapt to the canon as you go, but IT'S OKAY if your story doesn't completely match up to the canon. It doesn't make your story any less loyal to the source material so long as you maintain that integrity in other ways. No one is reading fanfic because they expect it to be a rehashing of the exact events in MHA anyways. They're expecting something new, something additional, whether it's an embellishment, a soliloquy, or an entirely alternate set of events.

Just write what's good for your story right now, and everything else is incidental.

#anon ask #ask pika #my fanfic #writing craft! <3

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kiwiana-writes · 10 months ago

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4, 6, 9 and 19- or any combination of those if that's too much!

4. Do you write original stories as well?

2024 is the year of the original novel, baby! I may have done more, like, setting up a website/Substack/Airtable writing tracker/etc than actual writing at the moment, but in my defence I'm still wrapping up my freelancing obligations this month lmao

6. What is a fandom you will never write for?

You know, it's hard to say 'never' because... I never know what's going to grip me. I never would have predicted that I'd write a fic for the TV adaption of The Last of Us, or that I'd walk out of the theatre after going to see a queer Christmas movie and rage-write an alternate ending in three hours.

So I'll take a slightly different approach to this question and instead say a fandom I'll never write for again, and that's HP. I respect the hell out of the authors who have gone full death of the author about it and reclaimed the world they love to make it better, I really fucking do. But I pulled my HP fics down from AO3 when I realised that seeing the author's name on my fandoms list, on my profile, was just... really fucking with my little trans non binary head.

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

This question is cruel. CRUEL. I have never picked a favourite anything in my life. Here's a few things I'm vibing with RIGHT NOW, but the answer may change in a month or a week or an hour lol.

Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise - always, but especially now as cricket works through the sequel. I feel very taken care of by this fic and have reread it a truly embarrassing number of times.

I really hope I can get him alone by @clottedcreamfudge - the Henry POV of Kinda think that I might be his type aka Alex and Bea fake date. I am just. iu4oqhurfriehngfuqernugoenuogre.

In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites - I bang on about Oxford Days by this author a lot (and for good reason) but FUCK this one is beautiful. I am forever a sucker for the psychology of kink.

Noble Blood by @orchidscript - currently a WIP, somewhat based on The King's Assassin by Benjamin Wooley which is the book Mary & George is based on. And like... here's the thing. I picked up pretty quickly coming into this fandom that The Thing Orchid Is Known For is researching the absolute living fuck out of her fics, and like... I respect it, but I also didn't really think about it much, because while deep-dive knowledge is fun, as long as something's plausible enough that it doesn't pull me out of the story I'm along for the ride, you know? But this fic. THIS FIC is based in a time period I am very familiar with (my focus was always Tudor England, but you don't study that time period without picking up a lot of knowledge of the decades either side of it) and like... I get it now. Reading a historical fic where you know so much about the time period, and seeing all these tiny little details sprinkled throughout that, like, aren't actually required for the plot but are just weaving the tapestry of the world... fuck me, it's an entire different experience.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by @anincompletelist - currently a WIP, I believe it's due to be completely posted by the end of January? But y'all it's so fucking engaging and I am loving the journey so much.

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse - forever on my fairytale bullshit as y'all know and this one is EXCELLENT.

You love me! You love me? by anarchyat4am - god. GOD. I don't even know what to say about this one other than PLEASE READ IT. Trans Alex and one of my favourite tropes, quietly falling into a relationship.

19. Dead or overused tropes?

I am an extremely firm believer that there is in fact no such thing. People are forever coming up with new twists on tropes, and even fics that play tropes totally straight are infused with the author's voice or experience or whatever. If I didn't want to enjoy the comfort of the familiar, I would probably not be engaging with fic in the first place 🤣

[Ask game for fanfic writers]

#Ask game for fanfic writers #ask meme response #suseagull04

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freshlyrage · 1 year ago

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 14

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.9k

a/n: I hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long!! We have so much more left of these two horn balls. Enjoy babies.

masterlist

Javier wakes you with his head between your legs and a white hot orgasm. He sneaks you out before sunrise to drive you home, car parked one minute down the road of course. You were on such a high you could hardly sleep, you had to teach summer school in only a few hours so when the day dragged on you struggled to keep up. You instructed the middle schoolers on the Protestant reformation, boring yourself along the way.

Daydreaming of Javier Peña while the kids took a mock exam. You sat in those seats daydreaming of him when you were their age too, it sends your head on a crushing spin when you think too hard about it.

You want to call Delilah after last night, she was so removed from your life at home. The temptation of confiding her bites at you all the way home. What trouble would it cause just telling her? She’s not even from here?

Upon arrival you notice Mr. Warden's car was absent from the drive. Pulling your hair in a ponytail, bangles jangling, you enter your family home. Your mom is dressed up, a flowing dress pale yellow and hair teased. Your brows raise as you set your purse down. Wanting to just run to the phone behind her and call up Javi. Ask him how grating it was to spend the day under the sun in Mrs. Gloria’s garden, wanting to hear every detail.

The likelihood of your mom leaving the house is pretty high so you ask, “Where you heading mami?”

Tucking your hand under your top and unclipping your bra in the kitchen, she hates when you do that but your breasts were small and you hated the tightness of bras. She wipes her hand on her dress, “Having a mommy-son day with Frankie. Gonna drive to the mall and then have dinner.”

Shocker, you think. You used to be bothered by the obvious display of favoritism with your mom but you expect it. You dont think shes ever taken you alone… anywhere, just for the sake of being together. Sure she took you to the dentist and whatnot but she never just asked if you wanted to do something together. She always liked your brother more and it hurt but you were done seeking love from her. You protect your peace. “Oh okay cool. Where’s Sol and your husband?”

She walks past you, reaching down to grab her purse from the island stool. “They're visiting his mother in Corpus Christi, they're staying over for a few nights. I’m going to meet with them tomorrow, just to destress before the wedding. I’ve bitten all of my nails off!” She sticks her hands towards you and your eyes widen at the sight. Man she really did.

The wedding was stressing her out for sure, she was more irritable than usual and always on the house phone yelling at someone. It was going to be a modest wedding, modest decorations and entertainment with a not so modest in the guest count. She invited the entirety of Laredo and the 1980 graduating class. She also skipped the renting route for the tables and chairs. She bought them all in hopes that you could use them when you betroth.

“Is there anything you would want me to do? To make this, I don’t know, easier?”

She gave a pensive stare, like she was cataloging all of the very complicated tasks in her head. Then she nods, “Ah, yes. Saturday the print shop will have all of the guest table markers ready. If you can pick them up and fold them. There’s … a lot.” She moves around the island and grabs her purse. You move past her to grab whatever beverage you can from the fridge. “Also, James hooked up a phone line in your room before he left, just told him to get on and do it since your grandmother called.”

You stop in your tracks, your heart stopping in your chest.

Blood running cold, “What?”

Your mother sits at the couch, putting on her heels. “Your fathers mother called-“

Your father, Lucas. The man who only existed in stories and dreams. Your grandmother, his mother? “Mami, what are you saying? What did you say? What did she say?” You storm into the living room angrily. Your mom looks at you in disbelief, shocked at how hard you stomped into the room.

“What?! She asked if you could visit her in Baton Rogue, I obviously told her you weren’t interested-“

“Why would you say that?!” You raise your voice, your cheeks heating in anger. How selfish could your mother be? Why do you never get a choice.

She scoffs, tightening the strap to her heel. “Oh please don’t tell me you’re still holding out some hope for that family?”

You blink rapidly, your chest heaving. Hope? You’ve never been given a sign of life from that part of your life, nothing at all. Just the stories from your mother. Just the knowledge that to some extent he wanted you.

“That’s for me to decide mami! I’m 22, I’m done being left out of my own life.” You seethe, you’re beyond enraged. You had just been a sweet high from morning head and a decent day at work. Happy at the chance of being home alone. And it’s the searing thought of your father that’s sucking the life out of you.

Your mother laughs and stands up straight. “You can be angry at me but i’m protecting you from the truth. Her numbers in the phone book, if you’d like to be disappointed, be my guest!” She snaps, shoving her purse strap over her shoulder and moving past your frozen pale body. Paled in anger, blushed with an ache. “When you find out he’s just a piece of shit who chose drugs over his daughter don’t come crying.” She bites, with a finger in your face before she walks up the front door.

Still frozen, tears threatening to fall and a sob caught in your throat. Before she leaves she snaps one last remark, “And you need to start looking for your own place, your welcome is overstayed.”

And she slams the door shut.

Winded you crouch onto the rugged floor and cry into your knees. You’ve been told your entire life that there wasn’t anyone left to speak to on your fathers side. The way your mom brought up the call, like it was nothing. You can’t help but wonder what other news she’s received over the years.

The worst part is you almost understand her, you knew she was in love with your dad and you can tell she never really got over that betrayal, that shock of finding out he was using the whole time and using the money for your life for his addiction.

You take the palm of your hand and wipe down your face, dragging your tears to your neck, standing up straight and walk to the phone book.

Breathe still skipping from a crying recovery, you swipe your wet hand on the counter and open the phone book to its most recent page.

In cursive,

Lorena ? Andreas grandma

You grab the book and head up to your room.

Time to put the new phone to use.

You dialed without contemplation, if you thought too hard you’d never call. Just call, call and find out what’s being hidden from you.

It was answered on the 3rd ring.

“Hello?” A small voice comes from the line, a voice with an accent. A voice of a woman late in her years. If you closed your eyes maybe you could picture her.

“Hello, it’s Andrea… your granddaughter.”

It felt so foreign on your tongue, you had been no one’s granddaughter before. Beyond the line you hear some shuffling.

“Oh! You saved my number, I called your mother but she’s still very upset.”

You sigh, “Yes she is. You told her you’d like me to visit you? Is everything alright?”

She laughs, “Everything is alright. I just never had your information until recently, I can’t travel because I’m alone and wheelchair bound.”

You frown at the thought of the lady living on her own with no one to care for her.

“Oh—okay. I’m not sure I would have a way to get there. I’m a school teacher here in

Laredo. I don’t have my own vehicle and-“

“It’s okay, If you ever find yourself in Louisiana I would love to give you my address. I would love to introduce you to your family.”

You intake a sharp breath at the last sentence. Why does it now feel wrong to want this when all your life you’ve reached out for it? Why does the sound of meeting your family sound so wrong?

“Is my father okay?” You blurted before she could tell you the address. It’s the one thing you truly cared about, the one thing that haunted you was the possibility of being too late, of him being gone in more ways than one.

Your grandma stayed silent behind the crackling of the phone, your heart raced each passing second. Beats closer together with each one. “There’s things that rather be told in person. Please consider visiting, my address is 4289 Coventry Court.”

And the line goes dead.

You repeat a call of her name, pressing the phone harder into your ear but she hung up before you could say goodbye.

Javier dreamt in a 3 day span. He lived all 3 days, two nights. He dreamt of the drive and checking in. He was on his god forsaken work trip but you were at his side and so the 3 days were a breeze and the best of his life.

He woke up with your open mouth on his shoulder, snoring small kitten snores. Your hair tossed all over your face and a tiny hand gripped at his waist. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead and he guesses you dreamt of something less pure because you immediately ripped off your top and climbed on his chest kissing him hard. Your wet core on his belly.

Javier made sure he gave you an orgasm before helping you out of his window. Going down on your just awake body.

Breakfast for champs.

He skipped out on the pancakes Chucho made and headed to work with his dad. The smell of your sweet perfume still on him.

He caught himself bringing the collar of his shirt to his nose when his dad wasn’t looking. He makes a note to ask you to wear it again.

His dad was skeptical of Javier’s good mood. Constantly shooting him a glance at his typically grumpy son. Shaking his head in a laugh when he compliments Ms. Gloria’s awful orange dress.

Chucho rarely went to work on people’s land any more. That was old news, he tended his land and sold whatever produce people wanted. But Ms. Gloria had recently lost her husband and when he saw her overgrown garden he offered some help. She had complained about not having seen Javier since he left so long ago, she had shrieked ranting about how much of a man he was now.

He had been hearing that a lot recently, that he was a man now. And he was, he hadn’t noticed how accelerated his aging was, already bill stressed at 18 unlike his classmates test stressed or even his girlfriend who was lecture stressed. A teenager with a badge, snuck into bars to drink away the day's stress with 40 year old colleagues. And now a 6 figure salary and a one way ticket to the cartel heartland just at the precipice of age 24.

Yet he still felt stunted. It’s funny how that works, how playing grown up can only work for so long. He had settled down with a broken relationship for years and honestly, truly, that was the most familiar grown up thing he’s ever done. Stayed with someone for the sake of finances, very grown up of him.

He didn't know what it was like to be the boyfriend of anyone but Lorraine. Most men his age had probably 4 long term girlfriends at this point, he had one and a few years of fucking whoever in high school. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend for you.

Boyfriend?

He was getting ahead of himself, he was your… he didn’t want to think too hard about it actually because the idea stressed him out.

He asked you to be his and it felt pivotal and important and it’s what he wanted. More than anything else ever actually, to have you. He couldn’t even believe you when you crumbled at the thought of Lorraine coming home. He had cared for Lorraine, deeply, but he hadn’t truly been with her for five years. And there is nothing he wanted more than you, he wanted to drag himself to hell for making you cry.

But still there is this slicing feeling you always had been his since the beginning, in the same way he was yours too. A wanting so deep he couldn’t fathom getting here, so he ran as far as he could.

That, there, that hurts his chest. The thought that he wasted time, that he kept you close in his heart without giving you a choice to be a part of his life. And what fucked him up even more is the people around him noticing.

Noticing his self inflicted torture.

They had noticed. More specifically, Javier’s father.

Javier is an idiot a lot of the time. He was an excellent researcher, sweet talker and agent, but boy was he awful when it came to keeping you his secret.

What triggered Javier to mention your mother while he was knee deep in dirt, he doesn’t know. Javier’s father glanced up at him, still squinting from the sun despite his ranching hat.

Maybe he misses you already.

‘Maybe’, who was he kidding? He misses you so much and it’s only been 4 hours. He wishes he was still in bed with you.

“You know-you don’t have to answer this…” Javier began, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. Chucho looked at him more skeptically now that he was speaking in English, which he never did when it was just them alone.

“I’ll answer, what is it?”

Javier shook his head and continued to work, “Did you ever-have you-did you date Ms. Diaz?”

He can knock sweet talker off the list of things he’s good at.

Javier cringes in his head, sure he was close to his father, he knew about his previous romances after his mom left but there was a period where Javier hadn’t a clue about his fathers personal life, the period directly after his mother left. Chucho chuckles and shakes his head and mutters something along the lines of It’s Mrs. Warden now.

“I did.”

Javier is aghast. Astounded even, a perfect mix of shock and horror.

It was all an inside joke but he hadn’t actually thought that- “The month after Flaca left, we very briefly dated. The next summer you were best friends with her kids, it was torturous for me. I wasn't over her but it’s passed.”

Javier wants to laugh at how familiar this was.

How Andrea had been so ingrained his life that seeing her again after radio silence was torture.

Javier does laugh, shaking his head. “No mames,” He couldn’t help but feel like his dad was messing with him, trying to trigger some sort of reaction. Because Melissa?

“En serio! It was a lonely time when your mom left, I wanted something for myself for a little bit.”

Javier weeds with a smile on his face. In the least offensive way possible, your mom was insufferable. Yes your mother was beautiful but from what Javier had seen, she was judgmental, rude and out of touch. She was a staunch christian yet surely did not love thy neighbor. She would tell you to your face you’ve gained weight and call you handsome in the same breath. She’ll kiss the cheek of a woman and call her a harlot behind her back.

Javier wondered where you found your sweetness from.

Maybe you never received that softness and kindness from your mother, maybe it gave you no choice but to be the softest, kindest, sweetest little thing he’s ever known.

And Chucho.

Javier’s dad was older than your mom, and too nice for his own good. Shit, he stayed with Javier’s mother until she up and left. He stayed for the sake of keeping a two parent home until he couldn’t any more. Javier admired his dad for that and despite it not working in the end, Javier knew his dad sacrificed his happiness to give Javi some sort of normalcy.

Javier took that from his father, if there’s a kid involved, he was going to try with the mother until he physically couldn't anymore.

Are you on birth control?

“Why Melissa?” Javier cuts wherever his brain threatens to take him. And Chucho cackles, removing his hat to fan himself, laughing as if Javier asked the funniest question there is.

“Why Andrea?”

Javier shoots his dad a glance, one of confusion (he isn’t confused but he has a game to play).

Javier doesn’t let it get the best of him, he had been teased about the girl for nearly ten years. It’s just a badly timed joke from his dad, he couldn’t know. Right?

Javier knew how to play it cool, he’s a fucking DEA agent for crying out loud.

But the sound of your name just fucks him over every time. And he can fucking smell you on him.

Javier disapproves and hacking his sickle into the dirt, a small piece flying on his shirt. “Funny because you know it’s not like that between Andrea and I.” Hack “And she is nothing like her mother.”

Javier’s father mirrors that same disapproval.

“You packed your bags and went back to Houston the second you saw her picture 4 months ago.” Chucho answers with a hint of teasing in his voice. Javier doesn’t appreciate the way it made his heart pound. Had he made it all so obvious and he hadn't had a clue. “And you may be right about her being nothing like her mother but she is beautiful like her.”

“Prettier.” Javier mumbles, earning another glance from Chucho who quit slamming down the sickle minutes ago. Sweeter, kinder, better all around.

Javier was blowing it, just a little bit. He sees his dads eyes, he sees them slanted like he’s puzzling the pieces. Like he’s got the two of you all figured out.

But it’s more than that, “You broke that girl's heart 6 years ago.” Stern, he was stern with the way he laid out the truth. It catches Javier off guard and he blocks the sun from his eyes to make sure his dad wasn’t messing with him.

But he was dead serious.

“Okay?”

He hadn’t anything else to respond.

“Okay?” He mocks, “Okay? Are you aware of what that does to a girl like Andrea?”

Javier sighs, getting up from his knees in a grunt. Not wanting to be reminded of this again, especially not from someone that wasn’t you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me Javier Peña.” Chucho raises his voice and Javier stops dead in his tracks. He can’t remember the last time his father showed any ounce of disdain towards him. Frankly he’s dumbfounded. Chucho gets to his feet as well, staring down at his son. His son who had already selfishly claimed Andrea as his knowing he would be leaving again. “Listen to me, Andrea is a good girl, and I ain’t saying you aren’t good but I am saying that this timing isn’t good. You understand?”

Javier's chest collapses in on itself, a pain that he sees no ease. It’s like every day he isn’t with you, he’s reminded why it should stay that way. That he shouldn’t do this. Javier’s nostrils flare, a pang of bashfulness and hurt swirling low in his stomach.

Feeling accused of something so true. He mumbles, he lies, “We’re not even together.”

Chucho frowns, “Good. I love the two of you too much to watch you hurt each other again—you ran from it and I lost you for 6 years.”

“I wasn’t running from her, I was starting a career-“

“You never came home.”

“You visited me once a month, you never lost me. And I did come home.”

“Once, and you left when you saw a picture of the girl.”

“I’m home now! And I didn’t fucking leave because of a picture, it’s not like that for me!”

“You’re lying, you know you feel the same way. Regardless she’s here and you’re leaving again! For good.”

Javier drops his gaze to the dirt below them, his breath quickening. “That isn’t my fault, I took this deal before I saw her, before the fucking picture.”

“Ver! la foto!” He caught you, “You forget I know you better than anyone else, you’re running again. I don’t want to argue, I'm just asking for you to be a man and end this.

End it unless you’re staying for good.”

Javier’s eyes drop, his blood running cold.

He was done with this. He was done with people telling him what to do, first your brother and now Chucho. Maybe it’s that selfishness but Javier mutters, “There is nothing to end.” and walks out of the garden.

At 9 pm Javier calls. You’re in bed already, grading history quizzes with a rare smile, the kids are actually doing better. They had all failed their history final just 3 weeks ago. You feel content with yourself, you feel content with the distraction.

You called a car rental service and was approached with the ridiculous prices of a rental. You’re a teacher for crying out loud, you don’t have money for an excursion to meet a family member you’ve never met. You spent the rest of the afternoon playing scenarios out in your head, what will you do if he actually is dead? What if hes fine?

What if he’s clean, what if he never wanted to look for you but what if he’s been searching this whole time?

The thoughts burned after 6 pm when your to-do list caught your eye, and so did the stack of papers on your desk. So the show must go on, you can deal with the existential crisis later, you've got work.

But Javier calls when you're halfway grading Jorge Villa’s quiz, he was doing amazing, with the pen between your lips you grab the new pink phone. “Hello?”

“Andrea,” He exhaled. Your lips quirk into a small smile, the memories of the morning clouding your brain. He was breathless beyond the phone, like had just finished running a lap. Your smile stayed but your brows pulled together nonetheless.

“Javi, are you okay? You sound out of breath.” The chewed up pen cap swirls against your teeth. He is silent behind the phone for a few seconds.

“Oh– sorry, I was about to smoke but decided to call you.”

You straighten up, the curly cord barely straining. You note to thank James for the extra long phone cord. “Oh okay, is everything okay?” Hes calling you from his bedroom phone, you could hear the difference. The phone in the kitchen had better sound quality, this one always sounded crackled and far, but it settled some weird nostalgia in your belly. This was the phone he’d always pick up from so many years ago.

“I don’t know, I think I got into an argument with my dad.”

“What?” You blink, it comes out more dramatic than intended but the sentence just didn't seem right. An argument? With Chucho? “Sorry–what happened, are you okay, do you want me to come over?”

You want to slap yourself. Do you want me to come over, what has gotten into me?

“It was about you.”

“What do you mean?” I’m so confused right now. Then it all hit you at once, “Oh my god Javi! Was I too loud last night? Oh my goodness this morning I didnt even think about it, he was probably awake. Javier I’m so sorry-”

His laugh cuts you off from your nervous rambling, “No, no, jesus. I don't know? We started talking about your mom, they used to sleep together by the way.”

“What!?” You gasp, your hand slapping over your mouth, his sweet deep laugh crackles through the phone. You want to swoon over it, his laugh, him, that all of this happening right now but youre so floored by the conversation you can't even appreciate it.

“Doesn't matter, he… I don't know what he was saying was true and yesterday you were very honest with me about Lorraine and all that. He just said that I broke your heart once and Andrea, I don't want to do that again I’m so sorry.”

Your chest swells, a feeling so deep and guttural. Something big heals in you with that, with everything that has happened this week. His voice through his bedroom telephone, his whisper, his kiss and all that comes with him. It was years of an ache pushed to the side and replaced with work and shitty boyfriends and all other things. You decided a bit ago not to persecute him for the decision he made at 17, that would just be too cruel.

“Javi, I forgive you.” You mean it.

“But I’m going to leave you again… in November.”

Lashes wet with tears you shake your head, “I know, I’ll be prepared this time. Let's please stop talking about this and enjoy what we have now.”

You're both silent for a moment, your brain is so foggy again. But this was a different silence, before silence with Javier made your mind run in circles about all the things you could do wrong and all your insecurities, this silence was good.

“I smelt like you all day.” He finally says.

Your face breaks into a wide smile, “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Was just half hard the whole day thinking about you.”

“Beyako.”

“You were the one who left a little wet spot on my shirt this morning.”

You gasp a dramatic one, you had woken up so hot and beat red. You hadn't thought about how wet you must've been the whole night when you straddled his chest bare bodied. You kissed him sloppy and rushed before he flipped you on your back to go down on you.

“You have no shame do you?”

He scoffs a sassy one, a classic Javier mannerism. He was always so grumpy towards everyone, sometimes you wondered if he practiced an unbothered yet grumpy face before walking out of his house. He’s going to do so well in Colombia. Your agent.

“You’re right, could I come over? I’ve missed you all day.”

Your head spins but reality sets in. Your mom would be home at any minute.

“My moms coming home soon but she’s going to be away all weekend. I was thinking tomorrow you could stay over here.”

He laughs, and you understand how all this sounds. You sounded like teenagers sneaking around, like having sex was number one on the list of taboo acts. Like the two of you aren’t adults with careers.

“Okay Andrea no need to beg, i’ll be there.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You exhale a laugh. It’s so easy to forget like this, when it’s just Javier and you. You can’t begin to imagine a day of uninterrupted interaction. Your brain almost slips in a fantasy of leaving to New Orleans with him.

“But-today? How was your day, everything okay with work? Any middle schoolers in need of being scared straight or what?”

You shake your head, forgetting he can’t see you, idiot.

“One of them called me a cunt today.”

“What the fuck? What’s their name?”

“I’m kidding.”

Javier is silent and then exhales. “Funny.”

“My students are very well behaved and nice to me actually—well nice enough for kids in summer school. I was grading exams., they’re doing really well”

“You’ve always been so smart, used to intimidate the fuck out of me.” He whispers that second half and you’re throbbing already.

You bite your lip and your cheeks turn bright pink. Why is it that small praises like that make you so hot and flustered?

“Intimidate?” You ask but your voice betrays you. Horny over the phone, this feels illegal.

The sound of him shifting in bed only lights that white hot flame in the pit of your stomach. He groans a cute little old man one. He acted like such an old man at 23, but it made him all the more endearing. You picture him settling against his headboard, a hand behind his head. God you wished to be in his lap right now. “Mmm. Yeah, whenever you’d get into it with me, i’d be like who the fuck is this little girl? You were so shy but so smart, I know you apparently were crushing on me hard but you surely knew how to put me in my place.” You could hear the reflective nature of his voice.

You think back to homecoming, how you had felt so fucking torn about telling him off but somehow content with how you handled yourself. Imagining walking the halls with him after telling him straight up that your love life wasn’t his business. You had felt so strong and mighty even though you ached for him to care about who you were with. In a twisted schoolgirl way you wanted all of the protectiveness and jealousy. But to him you hated it all, and you feared he might never like you for being so straight up.

But he found you smart. And god why does that make you so turned on.

You hum at the thought, “Little girl? All of you guys always act like I was much younger.”

“By the time I was a freshman I had been much more corrupt than you had been. Same with Lorraine, your brother and Genie.”

You sigh, “I guess but it does suck to think that you saw me that way.”

Considering I was absolutely desperate to be under you back then, just like I am right now.

The bed springs snap through the phone, he lets out a deep exhale. You hate to be so direct but god was all the noises he made sexy. “I saw you that way before we were in school together. By the time you were 16 and I was 17 I wanted to fuck you so bad I could barely stay in a room with you.”

“Javi!” You gasp. The full validity of his words don’t settle because you’re already following up. This is your dream. “Are you serious?” You whisper yell like someone can hear you.

“Yeah? I thought you knew, I tried it at that quinceañera.”

“That was a one time heat of the moment thing?!”

He chuckles, “No it wasn’t, you think I hadn’t thought about it before?”

“No! You were dating Lorraine.”

“Prom night? When I walked into your room while you were hitting yourself with a magazine, you looked so pretty I had to splash myself with cold water when I left the room.”

The scene runs through your cerebrum. Him crowding your bed, his hips leveling with your beat red face. The first time he called you querida.

“Oh wow.”

“Prom night, when I watched you play lacrosse. You really thought I hadn’t liked you too?”

Your eyes narrow, “You. Had. A. Girlfriend!”

“I guess.”

“You’re bad.”

You’re so flustered right now you could barely deal. Legs crossed tight. Desperate to just be with him right now. Pulsing below, why does this turn you on so much? Are you okay? Maybe you’re a sick romantic, the confirmation of him liking you back sends the hottest stomach pitting throb you’ve ever felt.

And you guess Javier can sense it, “What are you wearing?”

As if you couldn’t get redder. You look down, you wished it was sexier. “I’m in shorts, silk sleep shorts and a tank top.” It’s how you normally slept.

You could hear a deep inhale from the line.

“You got a new phone? In your room?”

“Yes, James installed it.”

“So you’re in bed?”

Your breath falters, “I am.”

He’s silent for a moment but then he continues, “Put your hand in your pants.”

You don’t even think twice before your lithe fingers are slipping between your wet folds. You suck in a breath, your cheeks hot along with the tips of your ears. “Mhm.” You moan.

“How wet are you baby?” And you can hear the stupid fucking smirk in his tone. You’re so turned on you can’t even think to snap at him for torturing you.

“I’m really wet Javi-please.”

And he goes silent. Like he’s deciding on what to make you do next, and you’re at his mercy 6 blocks away, at his mercy on the telephone.

“Go to bed, I'll take care of it tomorrow.”

Your jaw drops, and you search the room for hidden prank cameras. Candid cam style.

“Javi!?” But he hangs up.

Your eyes widen. What a depraved little image this was. Your lips parted in shock, with a phone between your shoulder and ear with your hand in your shorts.

Hot and bothered, you kick the exams off the foot of your bed.

Tomorrow.

He was going to pay

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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zhonglicious · 2 years ago

Text

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

☀ ft. ran haitani x reader

☀ warnings. mentions of fighting and making up. light angst i suppose? not sure if this warrants a warning, but mentions of chubby reader! honestly i think that's it, but lmk if i should add warnings for other topics!

☀ a/n. first post on this acc <33 honestly more ran centered than reader centered bc i love picking apart tr characters lol. probably not that coherent but eh <//3 wrote this bc i'm procrastinating on studying for my semi-finals lmfao <33 lowercase intentional btw!

❧ i just know ran would be the sweetest bf ever :((

❧ we're all in agreement his main love language is gift giving, yes? yes. i mean just look at him?? honestly i think he uses all of the love languages, but his main one is simply just gift giving

❧ we all know he's a rich man with no other way to spend his money than on his beloved. the gift giving is particularly heavy at the start of the relationship, as well as when he was still wooing you. like, i swear, you could not go a single week without finding a bouquet at your doorstep, or him offering you a pretty wrapped box

❧ even when you get further into the relationship, the gifts simply do. not. stop. it's less frequent now, yes, but it's still a little overwhelming sometimes. he doesn't hesitate to hand over his card or buy something you point out to him, all while he smiles and kisses the top of your head, telling you not to worry about how expensive it is

❧ another main love language for him is physical touch. he absolutely has to be holding some part of you at all times. of course, if you're not comfortable with his touch just yet, he's willing to wait for you to get used to him and trust him fully

❧ if you don't like pda, that's fine too! he doesn't mind keeping it lowkey in public, as long as he gets to shower you with affection once you get home <33

❧ he loves all body types, he just absolutely loves the feeling of you in his arms. although i just know that man prefers thicker people. but that's a topic for another post <33

❧ his favorite thing to do with you has to be those quiet, peaceful days where you two do nothing but lay in bed and just. do nothing

❧ not even watch a movie or anything, it's just. you and him with the curtains drawn. him holding you to his chest and playing with your hair, humming the song that's been stuck in his head, little things you've come to associate with him

❧ sometimes you think he just likes to feel your heartbeat, just to remind himself that you're here with him

❧ other activities he likes doing with you is playing games. especially when it's co-op games like minecraft or stardew. he absolutely must set his bed next to you btw, he just has to, sorry man i don't make the rules

❧ speaking of that, he's. very dramatic, yes.

❧ when it comes to small matters, he likes to whine at you, yes. you didn't say i love you to him today? "my baby doesn't love me anymore..." [fake sniffling] you ate the last of his food? [gasp] "how dare you-" [clutching his chest in offense]

❧ most of the time, he's not really serious, he just likes to see the way your face scrunches up at his antics. loves to laugh and flick your nose, before leaning down to kiss your forehead and apologize

❧ however, when you guys actually do fight, it's intense

❧ not in the way that there's screaming and yelling. although there is, sometimes, but most of the time it's surprisingly... quiet

❧ see, the thing about ran is that he internalizes a lot of things, and he's stubborn. all his life, especially with taking care of rindou, he's had to put on this facade of strength even when he's completely losing it

❧ so when you guys do fight, it's horrible because he doesn't want to back down from his stand. he takes a few days to cool off but once he does, he comes back and apologizes, however hard that is for him

❧ ran isn't used to love. he's always had to be tough and cold to make sure he and rindou survived. so it takes him a long time to deconstruct his walls and let himself be vulnerable to you, admit he was wrong. when that man says you're the better half of him, he means it, because you taught him how to open himself up to his loved ones, to stop being so on guard with everything in fear it might hurt him or his brother

❧ the same applies when he's feeling down. rather than talk about it, he'd rather isolate himself and push it all away, never to be seen again. it's a habit he's picked up from taking care of rindou, tbh. he doesn't want to worry you so he puts on a smile all the time

❧ but the moment you hug him and pat his head and tell him to let it all out, his breath hitches and the words finally come out, words he's had barring his throat all his life

❧ being in a relationship with ran can be rough, because he's still trying to figure out how to let himself be vulnerable around you. he's never had that luxury, to be able to put down his walls and not be hurt

❧ but i promise you that man is trying because he loves you, he loves how kind and caring you are, not just to him, but to the people around you

❧ so yes, to reiterate my first point, ran would be the sweetest bf ever, and i will forever stand by that <33

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev angst #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #ran haitani #ran x you #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader

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daisyishedwig · 5 months ago

Text

Writing meme about me!

@lusthurts tagged me over two weeks ago but I have been so busy with work I haven't had a chance to answer it.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Unofficially I just liked messing around with the characters in the media I consumed, I've always had a habit of pausing in my watching or reading to daydream and theorize about what could happen, or maybe just what my brain wished would happen and so at a very young age I started writing those ideas down.

At some point when I was twelve or so I discovered FF.Net through the Supernatural fandom, I don't remember exactly how. But that was when I went from writing Stargate and Inuyasha fanfiction purely for myself and started writing and publishing Supernatural fanfiction. I really love the weekly 100 word drabble challenges that fandom had back in the day and most of my oldest surviving fic are for those prompts as most of my other stuff I've deleted over the years.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

So Glee is obviously my most prolific, and then Supernatural would be just behind that. In the past I've also written for Stargate, Inuyasha, Naruto, Buffy, Harry Potter, The Vampire Diaries, Doctor Who, and Takin' Over the Asylum, but most of those have been deleted and lost over the years. I do have unpublished WIPs for Stranger Things, OMGcheckplease, The Real O'Neals, Captive Prince, Magnus Archives, Hatchetfield, and probably more, no idea if any of those will actually see the light of day though.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I've been publishing it for about fifteen years but writing it for probably twenty which is an insane number to type out. Like I know I've been writing for pretty much my whole life but seeing it in words puts it in a new perspective. But yeah, my earliest posted work is from 2009.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

It depends on the era? Currently I've been writing more fic than reading, purely because I've been focused on reading so many regular books at the moment (my roommate and I are in a race to read the most books this year, and I'm currently winning, but the rules are that I can't count anything that isn't already on StoryGraph and most of the fics I read are not).

5. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

I think my ability to write banter has improved a lot. I've been writing for so long that everything has improved, but the most noticeable to me is my dialogue, especially when it's witty. I used to struggle so hard with that even though I loved good banter in stories. It's part of why I used to not write Kurtbastian, because banter is so integral to their relationship, but I've been getting more and more comfortable with it .

6. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I'm going to ditto Lusthurts Ohio geography, which is especially frustrating considering how much Glee itself ignores Ohio geography so there's this line of making it not sound completely stupid while also remaining true to Glee's own absolute disregard for it. Also songs and movies that came out in 2012 specifically since I write a lot of stuff set in season 4 of Glee and I try to keep the media I reference contemporary.

7. What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love all comments! But if I had to chose my favorites it's probably anytime that I drop subtle hints or foreshadow something and people pick it up and point it out, either on the original read through or during a reread. I also love when people point out symbolism I didn't intend or realize I was making.

8. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Idk I kinda write a lot of infidelity and toxic relationship stuff. Seblaine is the main ship I write for nowadays, and the nature of their relationship lends itself to a lot of infidelity in their process of getting together. I also just love writing angst, so even when I'm writing established relationships, they end up being sort of toxic throughout especially given the traits of both characters. I just find it more fun and probable to write a slightly toxic relationship than a 100% healthy one.

(I did not intend to just leave Lusthurts answer for this one, but also, ditto. I love the messy toxic relationships, they've always intrigued me and they're so fun to sink your teeth into. I also love writing a lot of polyamory, which idk how fringe it is nowadays but I've been trying to breakaway from the throuple mold and branch out into more interesting, complex, and realistic polycules)

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

I tend to stick very much to the emotional side of things, so stories that get too physical or actiony are the ones I struggle with. Since I've been reading more I've been getting better but it's still not great.

10. What is the easiest type?

Hurt no comfort, lol. Like I do enjoy writing the comfort but sometimes my brain gets hung up on it not being realistic, things getting better too quickly, things like that. But it gets less anxious about just having the angst, even with no happy ending.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I tend to write on my couch, I do like going to the library down the road when I really want to focus, but usually I just write in my living room. I usually just write to google drive, I'm interested in alternatives but I've been using google since jr high so I'm just very used to it and it has so many years of documents. And I just write whenever, but usually in the evening after work, but really whenever I have time.

12. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I love ensemble fics and all the distinct personalities of the different characters and I would love to write one that focuses on many characters one day. I'm kind of trying that with my Season 2 AU but that still mostly focuses on Kurt, Blaine, Sebastian, and Sam, which is exactly who most of my fics focus on, so I'm not sure if it will fit full ensemble status by the time I'm done.

13. What made you choose your username?

So Daisy is an old nickname of Darren Criss' (he's talked about it in a few interviews, how he was studying abroad in Italy and when you say his initials in an Italian accent it sounds like Daisy) and when he was in Hedwig and the Angry Inch the username DarrenisHedwig was already taken but I thought DaisyisHedwig would be fun and I've been it ever since.

Oh boy, I'm going to tag @kurtsascot, @calsvoid, @fallevs, @cryscendo

@bitbybitwrites, @annepi-blog, @sperrywink, and @backslashdelta

#personal

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sanddusted-wisteria · 9 months ago

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Wisteria NPC dialogue

Dialogue if Wis was an NPC in MTAS! I've written some of these lines before, but since a couple other people have been doing it, I decided to write moreeeee! I've fleshed out most of the basic dialogue types.

[Very long post below the cut, heads up :P]

Intro: "Oh hey, you're new here? I'm new here too. I'm Wisteria. Or Wis. Or Wisty. Your pick. I'm still getting used to getting around here, but maybe we can learn together."

Acquaintance:

Oh, hey. What’s up? Me? Oh, not much.

How are commissions? Busy? Yeah.

Need any help with anything? No? Okay. Feel free to ask if you do.

"Ughhhhh, this heat. Whyyyy did I move to the desert...?! Oh hey, sorry. I'm just busy dying... Ughhhhhh...."

Buddy:

"I keep running out of water... No, not with the machines, it's my garden. Think I got a bit overzealous..."

“Hey, you explore the ruins lately? Find anything cool? I mostly turned up a bunch of cheap plastic junk, but there are some interesting things here and there.”

“If you wanna use the telescope without risking Qi giving you the stinkeye, he never uses it between 3 and 4 AM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Yeah, odd hours. But this is Qi we’re talking about, remember?”

“I don’t mind taking up something extra if it’ll help you out. With a guy like Yan at the helm, we need each other’s backs as much as possible…”

“Slow going machine? Hmm… Here, let me. I know a trick to make this a little faster…”

Good Friend:

“Quick question: what’s your favorite plant? …I see, I see. Lemme see if I can get my hands on it and we’ll see if it can grow out here!”

“Do I miss Highwind? Eh, yes and no. I’ve still got a chip on my shoulder about the place, but…it doesn’t matter now. I’ve got Sandrock. And I’ve got you.”

“My aunt Solanum sent me more pomato seeds again… You want any? No? Okay. …You want any potatoes or tomatoes? Swing by my place if you do. I have…many.”

I always keep my screwdriver set on me. You probably should too. You never know when you’ll come across something that needs screwing, or something that needs a little leverage, or a time when you need a stabbing weapon! …What? Never an impossibility.”

Sandstorm: “Careful out there. It’s already hard to see and the sandhat only makes it worse. Stay close to landmarks you recognize.”

Rain: “Raaaaaain! Oh man, I don’t have to water all gajillion of my plants today! Yaaaaay!”

Player has a new haircut: “Hm? Oh, new hair! Looks good.”

Player has panda eyes: “Hey, you good? It’s not really worth it to try and squeeze out work past like, 10 PM. Trust me, I would know.”

Player cuts a tree in front of Wis: “Oi, oi. That was a nice tree, I’ll have you know. Not many of those around here. Now it’s dead.”

Player attacks Wis with a weapon: “Ack! Be careful! That’s not a sparring weapon!”

Birthday: "My birthday? Fall 26. Born just before the end of the best season. Yes, fall is the best season. Objectively true."

Day of the Bright Sun: “I wanna take a closer look at the airship, but every time I look up, I’m conked in the head by a present…”

Showdown at High Noon: “Sparring is supposed to be safe, but we’re still swinging stone weapons around… Oh, and Qi might be slow, but that hammer is still 100% steel. Don’t get bonked.”

Day of Memories: “Who am I remembering? Well, I don’t know what kind of person they were. I don’t even know their name. All I know is that they lived a long, long time ago…and I see their face every time I look in the mirror.”

Tour de Rock: “I think most of the budget for Sandapalooza goes into injury compensation. And lawyer’s fees. For uh, the injury lawsuits. But um…you didn’t hear that from me.”

Running of the Yakmel: “Horses, I can handle. Yakmel, I can’t.”

Winter Solstice: [with a full mouth] “Mmm, hey. Have you tried this kebab? It’s really good!”

Loved gifts:

Floating galaxy: “Oooooh, look at this! It’s so pretty! You can look at the stars whenever you want! Thank you!”

Potted plants: “Aw, look at this little guy. I’ll be sure to take good care of it. What? Am I gonna give it a name? I’m a human named after a plant. Little guy’s already got a name, haha!”

Liked gifts:

Other relics: “Oh, this is cool. Where’d you find it? What do you suppose it was used for?”

Dishes she likes (e.g. beef noodles, sour and spicy potato): “Did you make this yourself? Smells really good. Thanks.”

Tea leaves or summer sand tea: “Never drank that much tea until I met Qi. Now I actually really like it. Thanks! I’ll be sure to share some with him too, if you don’t mind.”

Materials she likes (e.g. steel bars): “Oh, sweet Sunlight, you’re my savior. These things are a ton of work to get for how much I need.”

Neutral gifts: “For me? Oh. Thanks…?”

Disliked gifts:

Desert mushrooms or dishes with mushrooms: “Eh…mushrooms? Not a big fan, sorry. Beans might like it, though…”

Most accessories: “Hm… Looks cute, but it’s not really my thing. Sorry.”

Hated gifts: “…There are more civil ways of sending a message. Like using your words, for instance. Like an adult would do.”

Complimenting appearance: “Aw, thanks! Pablo says my hair and my fashion sense are boring, but maybe I like it boring, Pablo! It’s practical. And my hair is already great without anything extra.”

Complimenting work: “Hey, that…that really means a lot. Back in Highwind, being a small fry builder was such a thankless job to have. Even if one person is appreciating what I do…then it’s all worth it. Thank you.”

Complimenting personality: “Oh! Uh, thank you! Not sure what else I can say. I’m just me, y’know?”

Asked about her past:

“I’m a clone. Test tube baby. No, seriously! Some researcher found an Old World lab one day and there was baby me, chilling in a tube of goo. There were a bunch of other babies exactly like me in the same place. We were all adopted out eventually, to my knowledge. There’s another Wis in Portia, but I don’t know where the others ended up…”

“I had another workshop back in Highwind. Wasn’t very much, just a humble little shack. But it was mine. And I loved it. …And then I ran out of money.”

The first thing I made when I graduated from the Builder Academy was the sign outside my workshop. Made from local pine wood. I kept it even after my old workshop closed. Now it’s hanging outside my new workshop!”

“Things started getting kinda heated back in Highwind a year or two after my workshop went out of business. Apparently a lot of us newcomers were pretty quickly getting run out of business. We yelled and screamed at the Commerce Guild and the city government, but it only amounted to an audit of the Commerce Guild. An internal audit. Surprise surprise, nothing wrong, apparently.”

Asked about work:

“You ever notice how some people always want certain things commissioned? Like how the Civil Corps always needs canvas for some reason? I usually keep a stockpile of those materials so I can crank the stuff out a lot quicker when the commissions hit the board.”

“I always keep my eye out for anything that looks like a relic piece when I mine for ore. That and the rats…”

Asked what she likes to do:

“I thought I wasn’t going to be using my camera a whole lot after I restored it, but I’m actually kinda into using it these days. I like to take pictures of the plant and animal life around here. Makes it seem like less of a wasteland. Okay, most of it is a wasteland…but not all of it.”

“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I honestly like reassembling relics by hand. Yeah, yeah, the restoration machine does a better job of it, but it’s fun trying to treat it like a puzzle, y’know?”

“Some nights, I like to park myself somewhere quiet and with a good view of the sky. And I just watch the stars for a while. Good thing about living in a desert is that ‘somewhere’ is pretty much everywhere.”

“I got so excited about gardening that I planted all the seeds I had at once. Uh…pro tip: don’t do that. Unless you want to spend hundreds on water every week. At least Burgess knows it’s all going to growing stuff and not getting wasted.”

Asked about her favorite things:

“I really like relics. Finding them, restoring them, studying them… Most of the stuff in the ground is pretty benign, unlike what some people think. And even if it wasn’t, it’s still important to acknowledge that they exist.”

“Um…I’d say plants, but I’ve got plenty of those to take care of already.”

“It’s always a good day whenever I can get my hands on extra materials.”

#my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas builder #mtas wisteria #mtas oc #other shady business #long post #i have a couple mission reaction dialogues but since there's no good way to censor spoilers i took them off :P

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