#she’s either going to love it or hate it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cosmiclily · 1 day ago

Note

hey, sorry if you're tired of seeing me, but what do you think about reader rejecting Vi multiple times cause Vi is like a fuckgirl and reader doesn't know if Vi is only playing or mocking her, and don't wanna get hurt, but Vi it's totally serious and wants to get reader so bad?

btw, hope you're okay, have a great day, love ya! 🫶🏼

all of the girls you loved before

♡ vi x f!reader

wc: 4k

notes: i love seeing your asks 😭😭 don’t worry !! (sorry for taking so long to make this lol i haven’t been writing this much lately) i love this idea and i LOVED how this turned out, i want a girlfriend so bad now 😔

If you asked any gay girl (or bi, or questioning—basically anyone even remotely attracted to women) about Vi Vanderson, you’d get one of three very specific responses:

1. “She’s the love of my life, but I can’t get her to look my way.”

2. “I hate her and I hope she dies a slow, dramatic, painful death.”

3. “She said she’d call me back and I’ve been waiting for a week. Can you tell her to text me?”

Which, honestly, tells you everything you need to know about her.

Violet Vanderson had that reputation—the kind where she’d either broken your heart, your roommate’s heart, or was currently in the process of doing both. She had an effortless charm, a smirk that could melt steel, and a walk that made heads turn in slow motion. Basically, she was a walking red flag... and yet, somehow, irresistible.

So when she’d throw a wink my way, flash that annoyingly perfect grin, and drop the cheesiest pick-up lines known to mankind—“Your eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, princess”—I didn’t exactly swoon. I simply rolled my eyes.

Because we were friends. And if Vi flirted with strangers for fun, she flirted with me for sport.

“You know, princess,” she said on a typical morning, stealing one of my fries with no shame, “you’re the most gorgeous girl in here. When are you finally going to let me take you on a date?”

I didn’t even look up. “Piss off, Violet. Go flirt with Sarah or something—she’s been staring since you walked in.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder, spotted Sarah practically drooling, then turned back to me with a smug little smirk. “She doesn’t have your charm.”

I snorted. “I’m not on the menu.”

“Maybe,” she said, plucking another fry. “But I’m patient.”

And that was the problem with Vi—she knew exactly how to walk the razor-thin line between teasing and tempting, and she was dangerously good at pretending it didn’t mean anything.

The real question was: when did I start wishing she meant it?

I mean, I wasn’t that stupid... right?

No. There was absolutely no way I was falling for my walking-red-flag-of-a-friend. The same friend who flirted with any girl who so much as breathed in her direction. The one who collected hearts like seashells on a beach and didn’t even pretend to keep track of whose they were.

Of course I wouldn’t be that girl.

I wouldn’t be stupid enough to feel a little flutter in my chest every time she called me princess. Or get all flustered when she teased me just to see me blush. Or mad—irrationally mad—when she smirked like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And she did know.

“You’re gonna wait forever, then,” I said flatly, standing up and grabbing my tray, done with being caught in Sarah’s piercing glare. “I’m not interested. At all.”

I didn’t wait for her response, didn’t risk looking back at her face, because if I did, I knew I’d see that stupid half-smile of hers—the one that said, I know you’re lying.

But as I walked away, I heard her voice ring out across the cafeteria, louder than necessary and way too dramatic.

“Don’t do this to my heart! You know you love me!”──────────────────────

The next time Vi tried to convince me we should go out, I was sitting under my favorite tree on campus during lunch, headphones in, enjoying the rare peace, when her shadow suddenly blocked out the sun like a bad omen.

I didn’t even have to look up. “If you’re here to confess your undying love again, I’m gonna need it in writing. Preferably notarized.”

Vi laughed and dropped down beside me like she belonged there. “Can I at least offer a bribe before the proposal?”

I sighed and took one earbud out. “Depends. Is it food?”

She grinned like she’d just scored a goal. “Better. It’s me. I come with jokes, tattoos and limited emotional availability. Total package.”

I blinked at her. “Wow. I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”

“Me neither,” she said, leaning back on her hands, stretching like she was trying to give the sun a show. “Maybe it’s because the girl I actually like keeps rejecting me in increasingly creative ways.”

I scoffed at that, like she actually liked me. I ignored the way my heart did an actual somersault in my chest.

“Maybe,” I muttered, biting into my sandwich like it could distract me from her eyes on me.

She leaned in just a bit, lowering her voice like we were sharing secrets. “Come on. Just one date. If you don’t have the best time of your life, I swear I’ll never flirt with you again.”

I turned to her slowly, looking her dead in the eyes. “You say that like it’s supposed to scare me.”

Her smirk only deepened. “Because you’d miss me.”

“Oh, yes, I’d really miss being aggressively hit on while I try to eat a sandwich with too much mustard. Huge loss.”

“You pretend to hate it,” she said, nudging her knee against mine. “But you haven’t told me to stop.”

I narrowed my eyes, cheeks warming despite my best efforts. “Maybe I like watching you embarrass yourself.”

Vi raised a brow, eyes glinting with something that made my stomach twist. “Then you must love me by now.”

I scoffed. “Love you? Please. I tolerate you the same way I tolerate cramps and coffee withdrawals.”

She clutched her chest like I’d stabbed her. “Brutal.”

“Good,” I said, wrapping my sandwich back up. “Maybe then you’ll finally take the hint and let me rot in peace.”

“Not a chance, princess,” she said, all confidence and charm, her infuriatingly pretty eyes locked on mine. “I’m in this for the long game.”

And to be honest? I was almost—almost—ready to give in. To say yes, just to see what she thought she’d get out of this.

Maybe she liked the challenge. Maybe it thrilled her to know I was the only girl who hadn’t fallen headfirst into her lap. Maybe the chase was more exciting than the prize.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Because if I said yes—if I let her take me out, let her treat me like I was the only girl in the world for a night—what then?

What if she kissed me, touched me like I was something soft and fragile instead of her sarcastic best friend, and took me back to her room? The same room where she’s taken all the others before me. The same room I’ve heard stories about, or walked past, knowing some random girl was probably still tangled in her sheets.

Would I just be another name on that list?

Would she lose interest the second I stopped being a challenge?

Because once I crossed that line, there was no going back. Our friendship wouldn’t survive it—not intact. And neither would I.

Somewhere along the line, Vi stopped being just my flirty, reckless friend with too many one-night stands and a wink that could burn straight through steel. She became someone I couldn’t afford to lose.

And that made everything so much more complicated.

──────────────────────

After that day by the tree, it felt like something shifted. Like Vi sensed that I was slipping. That maybe—just maybe—I was close to giving in. And if she did notice? Oh, she absolutely took it as a challenge.

Maybe she was doing the same thing she always had, or maybe this time it was different. Maybe I was just different—too tired to keep pretending her attention didn’t affect me.

“Good morning, princess. Looking beautiful as always,” she said with that casual confidence, her grin tugging slightly at the little scar on her upper lip.

And of course, my traitor eyes immediately darted to her mouth. Like clockwork.

It was too early for this. Too early to fight the urge to smile back or roll my eyes or reach out and touch her—God, why did she always look so good first thing in the morning?

I tried to muster a response, something snarky, something that would remind her (and myself) that I wasn’t buying it.

“Do you ever wake up and decide not to flirt with someone?” I muttered, brushing past her with my coffee in hand. “Or is this just a full-time job for you?”

“Only when you’re around,” she shot back, grinning like she’d already won something.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t, really. Because if I did, my voice might crack under the weight of how badly I wanted to believe she meant it this time.

And she didn’t stop. Not that day, not the next, and definitely not the one after that. If anything, she doubled down.

Every morning came with a new compliment, a pet name, a reason for her to stand too close or brush her hand against mine like it was an accident.

“Nice shirt,” she said one afternoon, leaning over the back of the couch where I was writing one of my essays. “Brings out your eyes. Not that I need a shirt to notice those.”

I didn’t even look up. “You say that like you haven’t recycled that line a hundred times.”

“Maybe I have,” she murmured, her breath warm against the shell of my ear. “But it still makes you blush.”

Damn her.

I slammed my laptop shut and stood, brushing past her. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

She followed, undeterred. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for beautiful girls who act like they hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I snapped, stopping short. “I just don’t believe you.”

That made her pause. For the first time in a while, Vi didn’t have a quip ready. She just stood there, lips slightly parted, like she hadn’t expected honesty to sting so much.

“I’m not trying to mess with you, Y/N,” she said after a beat, softer this time. “I know I’ve been… stupid with other people. But you’re not them.”

And that was the most dangerous thing she could’ve said.

Because some part of me wanted to believe her. So badly. But that little voice in the back of my head—the one that remembered every time I saw her kiss someone else at a party, every wink she threw at another girl—it wouldn’t let me forget.

So I laughed. Cold. Dismissive. Defensive.

“Try that line on someone who hasn’t heard your greatest hits, Violet.”

──────────────────────

I tried avoiding Vi for a while. Maybe if I didn’t see her, I’d build up some kind of immunity to her constant flirting. Maybe the distance would help me put my walls back up, stronger than before. Maybe I’d stop slipping.

Desperate times, right? I even went to a party. But of course, the moment I stepped into the frat house, there she was, like fate had planned it just to mess with me.

Drink in hand, hair styled exactly the way I liked it—messy but deliberate—and that stupid black jacket hanging off her shoulders like she owned the night. She was leaning in close to some girl I didn’t recognize, and it took everything in me not to turn around and leave.

She had that look again. The “I’m going to ruin your life, and you’re going to thank me for it” look. Eyes half-lidded, head tilted just enough to seem effortless. I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind that girl’s ear, smiled like she meant it, and brushed her fingers along her shoulder. Textbook Violet.

And it made my blood boil.

I tried to play it cool. Pretend it didn’t bother me. Pretend I wasn’t two seconds away from marching over there and dragging her out by her smug smirk.

But then she looked at me.

Just one glance—one second—and suddenly it was like her flirty dial cranked up to a thousand. She leaned in even closer to the girl, whispered something, and then—of course—she made her way over to me.

Drink still in hand. Grin still plastered across her face.

I didn’t even wait for her to speak.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” I snapped, arms crossed tight. “She looked like she was really enjoying herself.”

Vi blinked, taken aback. “What?”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Don’t play dumb, Vi. She was practically on top of you.”

The smirk twitched back onto her lips, but this time it looked more like a shield than confidence. “Is someone jealous?”

And that did it.

“See?” I snapped, louder than I meant to. “That’s exactly what I mean. You say you want me, that I’m the only girl you’re actually serious about—but the second I’m not around, you’re back to being the stupid version of you. Flirting with anything that breathes. How am I supposed to take you seriously when you act like that?”

Her smile dropped. Just like that. Her jaw clenched, and she stepped closer, something softer flickering behind those impossible blue eyes. “You really think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice trembling now, though I tried to hold it steady. “And I’m not going to be just another girl you use to pass the time.”

Silence settled between us. The music around us kept playing, but it sounded so far away. For the first time, she didn’t throw back a comeback. She just stood there, those goddamn puppy-dog eyes searching mine, her throat working like she was trying to find the right words.

“I’m not trying to pass the time,” she said quietly, voice low and rough. “I’m trying to get you to believe that I’m in this for you. And yeah, I flirt. That’s how I cope. That’s how I hide. But nothing I’ve ever said to them meant even half as much as what I say to you.”

I wanted to believe her. I really wanted to.

“I want to believe you,” I whispered, looking away. “But your words don’t match your actions, Vi. And I… I don’t want to be just another girl on your bed.”

She took a breath, and for a second, I thought she might say something reckless and heartbreaking. But instead, she just said, “Then tell me what to do to prove it.”

──────────────────────

Then tell me what to do to prove it.

Her voice echoed in my head long after the conversation ended.

And true to her word, Vi didn’t just let it go.

The next day, there was coffee waiting for me at my desk. We had the same 8 a.m. lecture, and as I stepped into the room and made my way to my usual table, I saw it—my exact order, the one I never told anyone because it was way too specific, was waiting for me, my name written in her messy scrawl on the side.

“I’m not flirting,” she said as I eyed the cup suspiciously. “I’m just… paying attention.”

Day two: A sticky note on my computer that said “You looked beautiful yesterday. Just thought someone should tell you”

Day three: the Jane Austen book I’d been dying to read—the one I kept complaining was always checked out from the library—sitting on my living room table. Another sticky note on the cover: “Someone finally returned it! :)”

Every day after that, there was something new. Something soft. Something small. A gesture that felt intentional. Deliberate. Real.

And she wasn’t flirting the way she used to. No more over-the-top pickup lines. No more exaggerated winks. No more “princess” with a grin that dared me to fight her off. Now, when she looked at me, it felt… different. Like she wasn’t trying to seduce me—just see me.

And it was terrifying.

Because on one hand she was being true to her word, she was showing me that she actually—actually!!—wanted me, not just because I was a challenge, but because it was me.

But on the other hand, I couldn’t shake the fear. What if she slipped? What if the next party rolled around and I turned to see her back to whispering in someone else’s ear, smirk in full force, drink in hand?

What if this version of her—soft, steady, real—was only temporary?

Still, with every action, every quiet gesture, it was like she was telling me, “Yes, I’m serious about you.” And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the growing feeling that giving her a chance was the right thing to do.

Maybe I was going to be the stupid girl who fell for her walking-red-flag-of-a-friend.

──────────────────────

I don’t know what finally broke through my defenses.

Maybe it was the book.

Maybe it was the way she stopped trying to win me over with smirks and pickup lines and started showing up with nothing but sincerity.

Or maybe it was how quiet she’d gone about it all—how she never pointed out the things she did, never asked for credit, never even looked to see if I noticed.

But I did.

God, I noticed.

Every sticky note. Every small gesture. Every look that lingered longer than it should have.

So the next time she handed me a coffee, I didn’t roll my eyes. I didn’t raise a brow or accuse her of flirting.

I just took it.

“Thanks,” I said, soft and a little unsure, brushing my fingers against hers for maybe a second too long. “You remembered the oat milk this time.”

“You’re welcome,” she said slowly, carefully, like she didn’t want to scare me off by saying too much.

I held her gaze a moment longer than I usually would. Then I glanced down at the cup, smiling faintly when I saw our names written side by side in her handwriting, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I swallowed, heart in my throat. “I was thinking…” I said, trying to keep my tone light even though my palms were sweating, “if you’re not busy Friday night, maybe we could… grab dinner or something?”

Vi blinked. Once. Twice.

Then her whole face lit up like I’d just handed her the moon.

“You’re asking me out?” she said, grinning so wide it was nearly blinding. “Is this a trap? Are cameras gonna pop out?”

I laughed, embarrassed, but I didn’t take it back. I couldn’t. “Don’t push it, Violet.”

She leaned in, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I won’t. I swear. Just tell me where to be… and I’ll be there.”

──────────────────────

Friday night came faster than I expected, and the moment I saw her standing outside the restaurant, every ounce of my carefully built composure cracked.

She wasn’t in her usual leather jacket and cocky smile. Instead, she wore a crisp white shirt, tucked into her loose black jeans. Her hair was still slightly messy, and she kept spinning the rings on her fingers like she was nervous. Vi. Nervous. That alone nearly made me trip over my own feet.

“You showed,” she said, looking me up and down slowly.

I walked up to her, trying not to look like I’d been holding my breath the entire ride there.

A soft smile tugged at her lips. “You look… incredible.”

“And you’re still a flirt,” I replied, brushing past her with a smirk, my cheeks flushing. “But thanks.”

She chuckled and held the door open for me, just a little shy this time—like she was still half-expecting me to change my mind.

Dinner started awkwardly. We both fumbled over the menu, over small talk, over who was going to order the wine. It felt like trying on new clothes—familiar pieces in an unfamiliar context.

But somewhere between the second glass of wine and a story she told about her and Jinx sneaking onto a rooftop to watch fireworks, things started to ease. I was laughing—really laughing. And Vi… she just looked at me like I’d hung the stars.

“You know,” I said, taking another sip of wine, “I thought I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah?” She raised an eyebrow. “What did you think?”

“That you were just in it for the challenge. Trying to get into my pants because I didn’t immediately fall at your feet. And that once you got what you wanted, you wouldn’t even look my way again.”

She huffed a short laugh. “And now?”

“Now… I feel like you’re being genuine. I don’t know. You keep surprising me.” I paused. “And I like it.”

She reached across the table, slow and careful, her fingers brushing mine.

“And I hope I keep surprising you,” she whispered. “As long as you let me.”

I let my hand turn, let our fingers tangle—just a little.

Maybe I was still scared. Maybe I still didn’t have all the answers.

But in that moment—with her looking at me like I was something rare—I wasn’t turning away.

We ended up walking after dinner, neither of us ready to call it a night. The city buzzed softly around us—the way it always did after 10 p.m.—still alive, but quieter. Calmer. Like it was winding down, holding its breath along with us. We wandered toward the park, the air cool and just a little crisp, carrying that quiet kind of magic only late nights could.

“Okay,” Vi said, nudging me gently with her elbow. “Be honest. Dinner wasn’t a complete disaster, right?”

I smirked. “I mean, you didn’t make me mad, and you didn’t flirt with the waitress—huge progress.”

She laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the open air. “So I get points for not being a menace?”

“You get points for trying,” I replied, casting a glance at her from the corner of my eye. “And maybe for making me laugh.”

Her smile softened at that. We walked in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t awkward—just… easy. Comfortable. Somewhere along the path, we passed a little ice cream stand still open, and Vi tugged me gently to a stop.

“Ice cream?” she asked, her eyes practically sparkling. “My treat.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If this is your secret strategy to win me over, it’s dangerously effective.”

“Not a strategy,” she said with a grin, already pulling out her wallet. “Just craving something sweet.”

The old woman behind the counter gave Vi a knowing smile after handing us our cones. As Vi turned back toward me, I caught the faint pink on her cheeks.

We found a bench near the edge of the lake and sat, ice cream in hand—mine was mint chocolate chip, hers something absurdly fruity. The streetlights cast everything in a soft golden glow, and a breeze rustled the trees overhead. In the distance, someone strummed a guitar lazily. It felt like a scene from a movie I hadn’t realized I was starring in.

“You’ve got a little…” Vi gestured vaguely toward my face.

I blinked. “What?”

“Here,” she said, and before I could react, she leaned in. Her fingers brushed my cheek, her thumb warm as it wiped a smudge of green ice cream from the corner of my mouth.

It was such a small touch. But it stopped everything.

She didn’t pull away right away. Her eyes flicked to my lips—slowly, carefully—and then met mine. The air between us shifted, suddenly charged. My breath caught in my throat. Everything about her—her nearness, the way her hand lingered just a second too long, the way she looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—made the world go still.

I could’ve pulled back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned in, just slightly, testing the waters. Vi mirrored the movement instantly—like we’d both been waiting for this and didn’t want to move too fast and break it.

Her lips brushed against mine—soft, unsure, hesitant. When I didn’t move away, she kissed me deeper. Gentler. Like she wanted to memorize it, savor every second.

And I kissed her back.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed. It was slow and careful, like she was trying to say everything she hadn’t been able to in words.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, her forehead rested lightly against mine. Her hand still hovered near my cheek.

“Still not flirting,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut.

I laughed quietly. “Liar.”

But I didn’t let go.

And neither did she.

──────────────────────

masterlist

#vi x reader #vi arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #lily writes #request ♡#mootie ✰

296 notes · View notes

feistyvirghoe · 3 days ago

Text

ᝰ.ᐟ𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃?

🀥 ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴇɴ [ʟᴏʟ] ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ! <3

🀥 ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴡ…ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀꜱʜᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀʀᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀ ᴘᴀᴄ ᴀʟʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ, ʙʏ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ, ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪɴᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ, ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ, ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ…ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴏ “ᴀꜱ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ɪ’ᴍ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ, ᴍʏ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ” ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ :) ꜱᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜᴘʟɪꜰᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ

!!! pls ignore the typo in my design above lmfao…i can’t find the original to edit it so we gotta bare w it lmfao !!!

☆⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑷𝑨𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑺 ೃ🤍☁️⁀➷

ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ, ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴏʀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇ. ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴡꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ, ʀᴇʟᴀx ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴇ. ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴇᴛ ɪɴ ꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴇᴄɪꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ. ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ <3

╰┈➤ ❝ [.ೃ࿐🀥 ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ- ] ❞

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒? {the queen of pentacles wanted to pop out but she kept herself in the deck, i feel like this pile may have insecurities relating to being seen. seen for what you do or can do. i feel like you guys may not want that type of admiration.i hate saying this but i feel like you guys may have someone watching over you and i don’t feel this is good energy but i don’t wanna say it’s bad either, it just felt like something was hovering over. anyways they’re being represented by the king of swords and king of wands, but that can also be their fucking energy: intimidating! they feel very intimidating like they want to have you on edge, but then with the hermit here, hiding again, keeping yourself away from others, it could be related to you guys feeling hmm for example- you let someone in again but you’re nervous that they’re gonna be similar to this energy where it’s just like “i have control over you” and no they don’t but that’s what i’m getting. keeping yourself hidden and not being authentically you is kinda bringing you down i mean this is a reading about loving yourself more baby….

whatever the fuck that intense helicopter ass parent energy is, it has no control over you, you won’t get into trouble or be lectured just for sharing yourself with others whether that may be in your local community or online. i don’t want to upset you guys in this pile but you’re brushing this off, and i can fucking relate to this. but this clearly has something to do w a past lover or even friend, someone u were close with. i won’t get too deep into this bc this isn’t about triggering you guys but it’s hurting you deep down and you’re avoiding it, like you can handle all the other things in ur life but when it comes to this you know it’ll make you look at the reality of the entire situation. but you need to talk to yourself, all is not lost, and it’s okay to not rush and force yourself into certain situations but at some point you’re going to have to let yourself come out. it is your choice tho, and it’s okay if you don’t even want to be seen, but you don’t have to be in this melancholy state forever.}

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 ? { don’t you dare underestimate yourself or let ANYONE underestimate you. you guys are so fucking magical and probably my lil spiritual babies too, yall come off as so fucking kind dude. like i want to be around you and befriend you. i see that you’re really loved for your caring nature but yall are secure with yourself, like you know you don’t need anyone else to fucking validate your existence. maybe that shit weirds you out, watching others stress over getting validation from everywhere but from their innersleves. you guys pile is like homey, you don’t care to be around everyone or up anybodies ass 💀 i find that funny as fuck tbh (got me giggling) you just had that weirdo in the above section just making it feel hopeless and suffocating. YES! it felt fucking suffocating but you’re anything but that: that shit is not your energy and you should never claim that. deep down you guys are the intuitive sirens, the compassionate angels. yes, you may have an inner knowing that makes you see through people that’s why others may be intimidated by you. but yall see too busy on securing your bag and fixing your finances and not just fixing but really putting your all into whatever passion project/business/job that will help you feel even more set in life. (i hope im making sense guys, this is my first reading i’ve done since nov so bare w me aaaa 💕) but what i mean to say is, you know that things have been going okay but you want it to be better, and you can absolutely have that, it’s already yours, i just want you guys to stay consistent and remember who the fuck you are deeeeeeeep in your soul, no! you’re not some hateful evil bitch for speaking your mind and understanding different people povs…it’s okay! that’s the thing you guys need to let go of feeling like you have to follow the fucking crowd, the crowd that’s usually judgmental and full of sheep who are just NPC’s you’re meant for great thing and you need to fucking see it! please! (lmao i feel like this is harsh i’m sorry yall but this is what’s dropping ur confidence levels, believing that you’re only meant for that “okay” life, like no you can totally go after whatever fucking goal you have, as long as you’re patient and smart about it, nothing happens overnight but that’s okay too! the process usually is always worth it, anyways lemme stop my rant lol) do not doubt that beautiful intuition you have! NEVER! i wanna say it, or maybe that’s y’all’s guides but I FUCKING LOVE YOU! you need to hear that more often and start by saying that shit to yourself even if it feels fake. make people fucking respect you, you deserve respect and to be be seen as a king/queen! you’re powerful in your own right! it’s like many can see that but you. you are powerful baby!!!!}

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 {how u my dearest can bring this love back to yourself is by bringing back your inner child. you need to resurrect them and tell them that it’s okay to be heard. you need to let yourself be heard, children are the most outspoken honest, unbiased sweet beings on this planet and i really believe that by ignoring what you once loved as a kid, and how you were so brave and even free spirited when others didn’t bring you down, that’s the part of you that needs to come back out. i’m hearing come back out to play…you’ve been taking everything too seriously “we need you to come back out and play” let yourself embrace positivity and not see it as something everyone else can have expect for you. um no, you’re allowed to let yourself get out of that shell and enjoy the rest of the world like anyone else, no matter how far you go, or wherever life may take you, it is okay to fucking enjoy it and genuinely feel happy to be here on this earth. (idk why i’m just getting this serious energy rn, like they want you to understand this, and they mean it, that you can also live your life happily too, yes life has its challenges but even ppl who have gone through many challenges, they still allow themselves to sit there content and at peace.

another thing here is completely letting go of fear, maybe that’s an addiction itself, being fearful of what happens, bc you don’t know. but just bc we don’t know that doesn’t mean that it’s gonna be hell for the end outcome. it’s like the door is opened for you to crawl out of that cage, coming out of confinement. see in the beginning i was talking about fear, the fear of being seen and heard. let yourself be heard unapologetically, fuck what so and so gotta say. do u know them personally? no! and this goes for online interactions too, we don’t even know these people, so just keep being you, ignore the bullshit, i swear it’s like people troll others to get a rise out of the other party but you can cut the shit quick. you don’t need to entertain anything that disrupts your peace and you especially don’t need to entertain weirdos who can’t even respect you. this pile was big but i felt like it needed to be said…remember that you are fucking LOVED! YOU ARE LOVED!!!}}

╰┈➤ ❝ [.ೃ࿐🀥 ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ- ] ❞

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒? { yall seem fed up, like sick of something, it could just be life in general but you guys just seem so fucking sick of it. it’s like you guys want to keep going because u know that giving up isn’t really you but for some reason it’s looking good to you. i feel like you’re tired of answering to people or just not having some sort of grip on your life, like it feels a bit out of control for you. it’s like “i wanna keep going i have that inner strength in me to do this but fuck i am just tired! drained!” like you guys are tired of all these fucking challenges and weird changes happening in your life. i feel like that’s apart of the cause, bc you want more of a say in your own life. you want to make the decisions and be the leader of your own life basically being autonomous. i feel like you guys just want to show out again, to break free from the pressure of your day to day responsibilities. it’s like you’re giving and giving but how much more can you give you know. something is calling you, you’re focused on something or you just have this determination to start something for yourself or go after it and it’s like u take a step forward but then get pushed back again. “like why am i even fucking trying” you guys are just pissed…esp w the queen of wands here, hello that passionate ass energy exuding from her card, she doesn’t want to be stuck in one place, you guys want to go places, to be somewhere other than your current situation. you want change but you want that good change baby, the change that doesn’t have you stressing about what your next move shall be. you want that life but it just seems like a too good to be true type of dream…that really breaks my fucking heart (i’m relating to u guys too much omg) when i saw the five of wands behind the five of swords i just got that you guys may be in this battle with yourself, like battiling your mind and your heart. you want something to last long (i just smelt like cinnamon like that christmas scent, it smelled really good so that may mean something to someone)

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹? { 444 hehe - i feel like you guys easily attract others to you, i know this is a why you’re so loved but i feel like even lovers who have been with you like your feisty side, you guys- see you’re not dull and you’re not fucking boring, i was trying to piece this together and now i fuckin see it. idk if people admit this to you guys but your just coming off as hot shit. like even if they don’t like you they can’t look away from you. you have this aura to you where you embrace both your yin and yang, your feminine and masculine, that can even intimidate or scare away men lmao. baby you just seem really charming but very selective with who you let get close to you, within your close circle. i keep seeing this duality with your pile. and whatever area you’re at in your life is causing you to feel like you can only be stuck in one certain image. oh yes, like you have to fit this certain view to be accepted..i hate saying it like that but it’s like you’re making yourself small to fit a dumb narrative that doesn’t even resonate with you. you’re loved for how you can balance yourself. you seem to be (okay i can’t even fucking go with this pile bc i know this is how others are seeing you but you guy’s energy is just like no, like you don’t want to hear it, maybe even rolling ur eyes at this like wtf is she even saying…that so weird. let me tell u, you guys are genuinely loved but i feel like you’re only viewing this as superficial love, like “they don’t love me for me” which is totally okay and understandable) you guys may not want to accept it but yes you know how to handle your fucking shit (you may feel like that’s total bs but no baby) people see this about you, you’re fucking magical with it, like “how tf can they do this and this and still handle everything else” but i know when you’re always in that resilient position where you have to keep your shit together it feels like bleh.. like i wish i could just not have to juggle this and this…but you seem to handle it better than most, that you still come out shining to others…(i love u) people love you. you may be annoyed w ur patience but ppl admire that about u. the juggling thing may feel like “oh another thing i have to do out of obligation not bc i actually want to do it” and that’s coming from a place of exhaustion, extreme fatigue. (allow yourself to rest and take a break please, especially when your body is telling you to, don’t ignore the signs.)

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 {breathe…remember to breathe ♡ girl/boy/theythem you better put your fucking foot down! and i am emphasizing that, yall need to wake up and take back control over your fucking life. listen to this, you finally putting your hands in the cookie jar, and that cookie jar is all yours. the opportunity is right there for you to make that comeback, to be the leader of your life again. no wonder you’re fed the fuck up, and you have a reason to be. i feel like you’re learning as you grow older to stand up for yourself more, being aware of others motives and their intentions towards you. 555 for this pile, the cards keep pointing to you starting again. whatever that may mean to you but starting over again and not giving up, this time is like a no no, they really need you to see the lasting effects of your own personal growth and that growth leads to inner strength, feeling capable enough to handle any challenge or hard thing that may cross your path. i feel like you taking that action to try again shows that you care, it may not be an immense amount of faith in your end but you’re still trying, making that first step. you’re actually believing that “hey i can do this too!” don’t focus on how anyone else is doing it, what matters is that you’re the one taking that step. you’ve been through so much shit, i see it in the cards too, when the nine of wands had shown up and then the ten of wands, you’re like back and forth with wanting to give your all and then give up…but don’t give up on yourself my love…try again for you.

block out the noise and listen to ur gosh dang heart! this is for you to try again, for you to make the first step, the next one��whatever that may be, this. is. for. you.

let yourself have fun missy pooh 💞 (regardless of genders) i feel like you guys seriously seriously seriously need to let yourselves have fun. you’re allowed to express yourself however you want. who gives a fuck about who’s watching you. idk why another thing here is while you’re enjoying life again you’re going to be attracting more people and just the energy in general of true love, i feel like that’s all you want at the end of the day, to be happy with your life, the circumstances. i know things take forever or it seems that way in the beginning. but paying close attention to the time takes away the excitement. you know when you keep watching the clock waiting and waiting for the day to be over and then it just goes by slower. let yourself be surprised along the way. embrace these new beginnings like the fool in tarot…using your discernment but then again releasing the outcome, the fear of the future. i feel like you guys should try more grounding exercises and breathing…steadying your anxiety when you feel it rising throughout your day. }

╰┈➤ ❝ [.ೃ࿐🀥 ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ- ] ❞

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒? { you guys seem to be very apathetic towards love in general. something about this pile is…interesting is what i’ll say, you guys seem frustrated and over it, i’ve been trying to avoid it but i wanted to say that it could be because you guys are single at the moment and if not there’s this twisted view on relationships in general but it’s mostly romantic relationships. i feel like yall are very pessimistic towards love, like the more practical ones w the “this is real life” mindset. i feel like you guys are just over it, like thinking about love makes u crash out internally. you guys have great poker faces, you act as if if you want to be left alone but then you’re jealous when you see another person happy or in a loving relationship. that sounds harsh as fuck and im sorry but that’s how it came across in the beginning, like it just annoys the fuck out of you when you even receive love advice for yourself. like rn you could be cringing idk..but goddamn baby you got a thick ass wall put up towards others. what’s causing this is definitely your stubbornness, you know you want to be loved wholeheartedly don’t play boo. i can see it lmao, yall definitely want that feeling, to actually be in it fully present either by yourself or with another person. but yeah that “leave me alone” demeanor ain’t fooling nobody. why do i feel like someone fucked up your view on love in general, like whatever happened, after that you just closed your heart off, very distant and reserved when it comes to even wanting to talk about love. you guys seem so closed off to it :( i feel like it makes some of u in this group really angry and sad, like a scary mix of frustration and rage :( }

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹? { well okay this is different but i’m getting that you guys are loved for your independence. that’s sticking out a lot, how self sufficient you are, you seem to have life planned out for yourself and if you feel u don’t, well that’s how you’re coming off to others. something about you guys, you just don’t stop, you keep going even when it’s difficult to do so. that confidence and faith you have in yourself to never give up on anything. this pile seems very action oriented and in the above section i mentioned how you’re kinda apathetic towards love so now i’m seeing here that you tend to cover that up with work. with setting goals for yourself and working working working. i know this is about love in general but for your reading you seem more annoyed with romantic love…

i keep getting this “ugh i don’t even wanna talk about this” you guys are just over that shit and this may be my shorter pile lmao…

but this is why you’re loved outside of romance, i hope some of u guys didn’t come just thinking it was only gonna be about romantic love bc no, this is just pure unconditional love in general and i can see that a lot of people admire the fuck out of you. but the thing is (woah we’re just going back and forth here haha 😅) u just come off as hard to get to know. you guys seem to be only focused on yourselves, its so fucking weird with this pile bc you guys are content with being alone and in your own bubble but then sad when you see others together. (lemme give u a hug lol) this isn’t that reading but you guys need to open yourselves up more to newer people and energies into ur life, im not saying take everyone in but not everyone is a bad evil individual. see its right there in your face, maybe you have people throwing themselves at you maybe not idk, but people see you, yes they do. but i also feel like you only want to be seen by certain people, you don’t want to engage with everyone under the sun lol. (aaa this pile is interesting pls bare w me and the back and forth its so conflicting) maybe that’s how u guys just feel in general, conflcted about love in general so you just guard your heart and mind, not rly budging. i feel like people rly love your go getter mindset, you just do it. and that’s it, you just fucking do it, (even when i started this pile i was like, are they down themselves or are they just down bc they really want to be loved deep down idk haha)}

okay i took a nap and now im back…but what i just wanted to add for this group is this. most of you seem very disciplined in your day to day life or you just have things going pretty smooth for you, like nothing is really going on (take what resonates) that’s stressing you out to the max. no i didnt see that in your cards, what i saw was you guys “no” like that’s it, its a hard no to love and being vulnerable but anything else is fine. this pile i still confusing me, i think that’s what you may do to others too, confuse them like “does pile 3 wanna talk to me or etc. or should i just leave them alone altogether” very standoffish…coming across intimidating to other ppl. i’m not gonna keep repeating myself an annoy yall but it’s not a bad trait no. nothing about this is bad at all, i just feel like this pile should try loosening up a bit. idk maybe lowering the sword some bb hehe…you guys are literally big sean’s ‘i don’t fuck w you’ song 🤣 }

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 { shadow work…it’s clear as day a lot of shadow work needs to be done. “i feel like i can’t have that” you guys need to talk to yourself or even maybe talking to a professional, but there’s something here about speaking. being vulnerable about why you feel this way in general towards love. you’re going to cry, it’s gonna fucking hurt but you need to address this. and it’s completely fine to be vulnerable and release it. holding onto this resentment is what i feel. it’s like you’re brushing this off but you can’t run from it no more especially if it’s affecting your views on love like this. hello group 3! it is OKAY! it is completely okay to want connection, to be around others and have your own tribe. to have people you call your homies hehe..you all deserve that shit. something from childhood even can be blocking u from accepting love into your life. i really feel like this has to do with something in your home or a place you called home. it could even be your mother for some. okay i’m not going to fucking dissect this too much bc everyone’s different but i can’t hide what im feeling either, talk it out baby. i feel weird even saying that pet name. repeat it to yourself “i am worthy and i deserve a love that feels like home” we gotta take that shield off baby boo…if you really want that pure unconditional love with someone, you guys will eventually have to unmask yourselves (don’t rush yourself) it’ll take time but your shadow reveals a lot to you. have you questioning your own belief system. like why do i think that way about love? where is this coming from? be patient with yourself, this isn’t a race. time is not running out, i know it feels as if everything is going by quickly but you can’t rush divine love baby. opening yourself up to trust again. to have faith in others and not second guess their actions bc of fear. i feel like it’s self-protection, like you’re doing this to protect yourself from other people who you think might hurt you. but what if they don’t love? you can think optimistically about it too.

╰┈➤ ❝ [.ೃ࿐🀥 ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ- ] ❞

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 {whatever is going on in your life, it’s a big ending, well something that needs to be let go of. i feel like this pile may be clinging onto that, but you’re supposed to be surrendering to something and maybe yall are just nervous about “so if i let this go then what’s gonna happen” i feel like yall are gonna come out of this standing tall and strong though. it seems personal bc if it’s here showing up like this, the situation that needs to end is seriously fucking up your ability to move forward, like you’re in limbo and i’m sorry pile 4. you shouldn’t feel like this, i’m just getting that you guys think this is all your fault. like you’re the one to blame? but blame for what?? hmm idk..but whatever it is, you’ve just been fucking backstabbed repeatedly and you can’t take anymore of that nonsense. the cause is not being able to let it rest. walking away from this or removing yourself from something that you know is inevitable in the end. the six of wands is showing me that you won’t be coming out of this drained and defeated, but the opposite. feeling more proud of yourself for taking the initiative and saying to yourself “i’m not dealing w this shit anymore” speaking up for yourself more. you have a voice to speak. do not let anyone diminish that or try to silence you. you shouldn’t be complacent for anyone okay.}

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹? { are people jealous of yall? bc wtfff?? i’m over here ready to praise you but then it’s just silent, anyways that could mean something to some of you in this group. you seem to garner a lot of attention from others. whatever you may do in your life or your accomplishments/achievements, however you make an impact in your own personal universe, you’re noticed. (i’m just getting this jealousy wtf ew..and i was just fine)anyways that’s one of the many reasons you’re adored…you come off as a very sweet person (either you or someone around you doesn’t like this message it’s so fucking weird bc i keep being held back from even boasting about you) this is why you’re loved but other energies want to come in and say the opposite, like “this is why people are envious or jealous or whatever the fuck” (i’m sorry yall anyways) your energy is abundant babe. you guys are intuitive and emotionally intelligent, coming off as a fair person who doesn’t really let personal bias cloud their judgement. i feel like you guys know how to handle the conflict that may try to come your way. you seem to be balanced in your lives, don’t take this to heart but i feel like you guys kinda have it a bit easier than other people, like opportunities come to you swiftly. yeah you guys just seem to be blessed (but that’s fucked up saying you’re more blessed than others so i’m not implying that at all, your circumstances just seem to be a bit more beneficial and some outsiders can see that just from looking at the surface level, please remember to take what resonates with you) yeah even though people may not see it, you go through your own battles but then you don’t broadcast that to the whole world. i feel like you show people what they want to see but underneath it you’re just like anyone else…challenges and tough situations that affect you too. i guess it’s because you know how to pick your feelings back up…to keep going even when it doesn’t even feel worth it. people seem to admire your courageous nature, going into the fight head on. (do you guys even believe this for yourself? idk it’s like i’m getting this through the cards and what i’m hearing but then yall just don’t seem to be- it’s self doubt :( and it’s similar like in the above section for the cause…people don’t see that you struggle with yourself to not disrupt the balance of life..i feel like you guys stress about upsetting others or not behaving properly for ppl? i didn’t want to say it in this pile but people pleasing can be a significant issue here, remember that you don’t owe nobody shit fr! don’t let anyone gaslight or manipulate you into thinking that you owe ur life to them for something small as fuck.) you come off as knowing how to overcome most of your obstacles and challenges within your personal life, but that’s all people see on the outside as if you have to be perfectly polished or else you’d be scared of public scrutiny :( damn guys…it’s okay to not perform for other people..fuck that shit! }

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 {you guys are not perfectly polished robots okay? for you guys to embrace more love and happiness into your heart…you gotta turn ur head away from the bs. it sounds annoying to hear this i know, but we need to face this my love. you guys have to feel your emotions and the pain that you feel. i feel like they want you to go within and stop performing (it sounds so damn harsh jeez i’m sorry guys) not everyone is going to be on your side, sometimes you need to do things alone without the input of other peoples opinions. you guys have to remember that this your life…it’s your world, your living in it. see in the beginning {the cause} i saw the tower reversed and now the tower is upright in the {how you can love yourself} i feel like that flip is you guys starting to accept that you can’t control the situation every single time, controlling the outcome and molding it how you want it. breaking down the shield you have over yourself, it’s like you were holding onto something that’s you know you should be letting go of. and loving yourself more is releasing the weight of whatever happened and letting the universe do its thing. why do i feel like this has to do w your image, especially in the section before this, like you even have some sort of control on how people see you so no one can really get to know you beneath the surface. i feel like you guys don’t want anyone to see this hurt individual inside but that’s something you shouldn’t be ashamed of…why are u ashamed of your heartbreak? that is completely valid to feel the way you feel and those people who make fun of you for being vulnerable, they need to go, or at least talk to them bc that’s not how real relationships/friendships work. see i was getting that jealousy but why are they jealous when they don’t even know what the fuck you’re going through at night when you’re all alone w your thoughts :( another message is to not give up on your dreams, whatever it is that you’ve been wanting to manifest and bring into your life. especially not giving up on your self growth too, you’re still learning along the way…you don’t have to have everything figured out bc you see everyone else “put together” when in reality a lot of people are just faking it. (i hope my messages made sense, i felt like i was all over the place im sorry guys :( ) in the end you guys need to put you first. forget everything else and go pamper yourself. whatever makes you feel comfortable and safe.}

*shy wave* hey lol…hope u all got something from this..the reading was interesting but i hope yall don’t think im mean omg…that’s just how the messages were coming through

i think spirit is just frustrated w us not believing in ourselves and seeing ourselves as the magical beings we are but idk lol

i have no set schedule and i’m just gonna post when i can, i love u all and thank u for taking the time to even read this, much love <333

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tim-drakes-missing-spleen · 1 day ago

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Wait, what if after Danny meets Talia again or what ever, Ra's tries to summon the ghost king to find another way to stay forever immortal (or something like that) . Only to find out that the Ghost King is the same boy he once loathed for not being good enough. Like just imagine:

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Ra's stared at Danny in shock after he emerged from the summoning circle.

Danny glared at Ra's while still wearing his pajamas. "Hey, asshole" He hissed.

Talia also stared at him in complete shock. "Danya-?!" She tried to say, but was quickly cut off.

Danny, who is now glaring at Talia as if she killed his family interupts her. "Shut up. Shut the fuck up." He tells her eerily. "I told you to stay away from me and my family, and yet here I am! You're both such pieces of shits, you know that?! Before you all hated me and treated me like an abomination, and yet you have the nerve to stand here and ask me for some sort of favor?! And before try to defend yourself, I know for a fact that you didn't just summmon me for fun, you want something, and I'm not going to give it to you."

Ra's face started to twist with annoyence rather than shock before he started to talk, venom laced in his voice. "Danyal, you are being unreasonable. You shall not prevent me from earning what I already deserve simply because you feel petty. You were once a disgrace to the Al Ghul bloodline, but now-"

Danny yet again interupts him, but now he looked downright pissed "Didn't I just tell you to; Shut. The. Fuck. Up!"

Th other members of the league watched in horror as the temperature in the room drastically went down, and a bone chilling wail escaped Danny's mouth. Danny took a deap breath to try to calm himself before he straightened his posture, and stared blankly at the people he used to call his family.

"I am done with you all constantly discriminating me for simply being human. I am done with looking up to you as if you were some sort of God. I am done with trying to prove myself to you both despite the fact that I will never be good enough for you. Most of all, I am done with the both of you. I was a child, I didn't deserve being treated like that." Danny spoke with a blank tone that got more and more vulnerable the longer he talked.

Talia tried to ignore the burning guilt in her gut as she listened to the boy who once adored her. She was once his inspiration, why could she only see that now? She looked at his empty face, and mentally compared it to the face of the boy who once looked at her with constellations in his eyes and a smile full of admiration.

Danny sighed.

"I am done. Don't ever contact me again." And with that Danny transformed into his ghost form, and left. Talia continued to stare at his retreating for even as Ra's voice registered in her brain. She simply just stared, and wondered why she never returned his love back when she had it.

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But I don't know, that's just some random crack idea. However, if anyone has any fic recs for either the original post or this one, please comment them!

Danny and Damian are related, with a twist.

Danny is the son of Talia Al Ghul, however he is NOT the son of Bruce Wayne. Ra’s has had his eyes on various people across the world that have either impressed him or show a unique skill set that he’d like to have. One such person was under the both categories and he got Talia to collect a DNA sample and as a result Danny was born.

This was before Bruce’s time with the League by a few years, but very quickly Danny was not meeting expectations. And by the time Bruce did show up Ra’s had lost all interest in Danny, moving on to better things.

Talia always hated Danny because she was forced to have him with a man who she never liked in the first place. Furthermore, because his skillset was lacking she found that even more reason for her distain. In her eyes, he wasn’t worth even considering her blood.

Danny, knowing that he was doomed if he didn’t make an escape, left the league sometime around when Bruce was moving up the ranks and was making waves within the organization. Perfect timing honestly, any attention he might have had was quickly gone when this prodigy showed up.

Danny escaped the League and went into hiding quickly after, settling on a rural area of the United States after bouncing around countries for a few months. This was mainly because Jasmine Fenton saw a young boy pick pocketing strangers while her family was visiting Chicago and scolded him. Her mother and father saw the boy and also lectured him to which Danny responded it was his only option (he was trying to get this loud family off his back so he could sneak away). Eventually the Fentons decide that if he has nowhere to go he might as well go with us, and Danny decides blending in with a Nuclear Family is the best way to ensure that his peaceful life away from the League stays that way. Oh how little did he know.

Flash forward a few years, Talia, who was visiting Gotham to check on Damian, sees a glimpse of a boy (now man) she thought she had forgotten. Her blood runs cold, if this abomination is in Gotham then her son is likely in danger and she would never let anything happen to Damian.

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babyjinsu · 21 hours ago

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pairing ; seatmate!sunghoon x fem!reader

warning ; just fluff :3 reader had long hair, now short!

for quite some time, cutting your hair has been a tormenting thought for you.

you’ve had waist-length hair for longer than you could remember but for the past few months… cutting it short—or just cutting it at all—has been in your mind like a parasite. the thought lingered during showers, during hot summer days, every time your hair got caught in your backpack zipper or snagged in someone else’s button.

but it wasn’t just hair for you—it’s you. it was comfort. memories.

and now, it is gone.

you don’t hate it—but you don’t necessarily love it either. when you brush your fingers through your hair, it ends short. your head feels lighter, and you don’t get headaches from taking almost half an hour and more trying to hairdry it.

you keep your head down as you take your seat in class, pulling at the hem of your cardigan and wishing they were long enough to cover your face. people noticed, obviously. while most were kind, you know they didn’t mean it like that.

“oh, you look so cute now! but… your long hair was so pretty,” someone sighed.

“aww, what a shame. it’s going to take a long time to grow it back.” another muttered, pouting as she looked at your shorter hair like a dropped heirloom vase.

your stomach twists at the memory, even though you’d replied and nodded through it all.

you barely hear the chair beside you scrape back as your seatmate, sunghoon, drops into his seat. you don’t spare him a glance, you barely even talk to him throughout the half year of sitting together. he’s just kind of… there.

sunghoon’s just someone who exists within your daily routine.

you shift slightly in your seat, tucking your chin down. your newly exposed neck still feels too bare and naked, like you’re wearing something revealing that’s so-not-you. you’re not sure of having someone sitting so close to you looking at it.

a beat passes. then another.

“... you cut your hair,” sunghoon says, low and careful like he’s testing the weight of his words.

your fingers twitch on the desk, threatening to run your fingers through your strands. “yeah.”

you expect that to be just it. an observation. maybe followed by a hesitant, half-hearted “it’s cute but…” like the others. but then—

“i like it.”

you blink, turning your head almost immediately as it caught you off guard. “what?”

“i mean,” he lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “you look really nice. like, nicer. lighter. in a good way.”

sunghoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he says that—he’s busy flipping his pen between his fingers and you swear you see a faint pink rising to his ears.

you thought he’s done—you want to thank him.

“i always thought your long hair looked pretty too,” he says, voice softer and quieter now, “but i didn’t know you could look prettier.”

it doesn’t sound like a joke, or a backhanded compliment.

you stare at him, stunned silent. heat floods your face so quickly it makes your eyes sting and warm. for a second, you forget about all the people who had said “what a shame”.

you lower your gaze, biting back a smile you’re not ready to show him.

“...thanks,” you whisper, bringing your palms up to your cheeks. it’s warm. it’s nice.

sunghoon gives a tiny nod, covering his lower face with his palm. his lips curve—the tiniest grin tugging at his mouth.

and suddenly, the hair you lost doesn’t feel like an ending—but a beginning to something new.

💭 aw sunghoon's short-official debut in babyjinsu! 🥺 can u tell i have a thing with hair? it's so intimate and i thought i'd write it with sunghoon (i wrote it b4 with sungchan too!) because i just got my hair cut recently!

auwihei i hope with this i can gain more engene friends ;( do expect dark contents with the members haha.............. looks around. LMK IF U LIKE IT IM SO EXCITED I LOVE PARK SUNGHOON OF ENHYPEN!!!!!

#enhypen oneshots #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff

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intoblonde6ftwbbplayers · 5 hours ago

Note

Relationship Gets Exposed

Can you do one where reader has this professor that's really mean to her, so after her lectures, she goes to Paige's room, but kk is on live, but everyone can notice something's wrong so paige asked about it then reader says I can't say on live, so then paige asked the room if she should either mute it or end the live, paige, reader and some other people say end it and some says mute so kk mutes it but reader and paige thinks the live is ended. Paige then goes closer to reader as she's telling her story, then like hugs her and pecks her lips, then kk would be like ..." um, guys, we're on live" and PANIC

A/N; I absolutely love this idea omg!! Sorry about making her grandpa sick but just an outlet for some stuff im going through right now anyway hope you all enjoy!!

Exposed

pairings - Paige Bueckers x gf!reader

warnings- none baby angst fluff at the end

not edited sorry

You've been dating Paige for a little over a year now. You were a junior and she was a senior and you've been together since last year.

You were always together and anyone with eyes could see how much you were meant for each other even before you started dating.

That being said even though you were both sure in your relationship and that this was it, you haven't told the world yet. Paige wasn't even officially out to the world yet.

Obviously they knew I mean one look at her everyone knows but it wasn't official and you didn't mind and respected the fact she just didn't feel the need to address it and you didn't either

Anytime the team would go on live you would go into friend mode, it wasn't particularly hard considering you had been introduced to the fans long before you and Paiges relationship started.

The whole team loved you and treated you like one of them which you were grateful for because you loved them like family too. Recently you've had a rough couple of weeks with school and family so they've all rallied around you like the found family they are.

You've always liked school. You were never one of those people who hated going to class and actually enjoyed learning and academics. You weren't a teacher pet per say but you enjoyed talking to most of them and ended up getting close to a couple of them in your high school and even college experience

That's not to say you never had some teacher you didn't like or who, no matter how nice you were, didn't like you. You weren't disrespectful but you weren't quiet and you weren't egotistical when it came to voicing your views just a bit opinionated and loud.

That's the main reason some teacher or professors didn't like you but you've never had one hate you until now.

The thing is this particular professor really had it out for you. Every time you would as a question in class he would really with a sigh, eye roll, and a comment about you needing to pay better attention.

Every assignment you turned in was 99% never 100 when others could do less or just the same and receive that grade. It was fine though. You had a 98 in the class overall.

But today you had missed an assignment, you went back home to visit your grandpa who's sick and has recently been getting worse the past couple of weeks.

You missed one assignment in your 2 days at home and stayed after class today practically begging the professor to let you turn it in late.

He made it a big deal and yelled at you while his new lecture class started coming in only embarrassing you further. Making you explain how you went home to see your sick grandfather before he died before almost full lecture hall.

So after that all you wanted to do was lay down and be held by your girlfriend to hopefully drown out the noise of the day.

You didn't ask Paige where she was or if you could come over you just showed up and let yourself in with the spare key like always.

When you opened the door to her room and heard the noise it was your end point. You could barely hear them say hello to you or register the fact that Kk was on live.

Everyone could see the tired way you walked and even the tears starting to form in your eyes that you haven't even realized are there yet.

"Hey you okay should we end the live?" Paige is the first to speak going up to you our of frame and blocking your view of everyone else

She moves to his you and you immediately melt into it letting yourself finally start falling apart. You both stay there for a few seconds while everyone else debates whether to end the live or not.

"Should I end it?" Kk asks the room

a series of yes or maybes follow until Azzi says "Maybe just mute it for now" so thats what Kk does she mutes the live and leave the phone on the dest where its currently propped up facing the rest of the room

You and Paige dont hear this though and assume the live is ended once KK and Azzi move to sit on the edge of the bed waiting to hear what's wrong.

You just let Paige hug you there standing by the bed. "Wanna lay down and tell me what's going on ma?" You just nod in response already calming down by being in her hold

You let her lead you onto the bed where unbeknownst to you guys you were both perfect in frame of the live. You tell all three of them the story of what's been going on the past couple of weeks which isn't new news to Paige but when you get to what happened with you professor they all feel bad for you Azzi even offering to do the assignment for you right now since she has free time and knows you're already swamped with work.

Kk sits there and listens and gives you a hug that you're extremely grateful for.

"Thank you Azzi and thanks Kk" you say as you see Azzi grab her computer from the nightstand start to work on an outline for your assignment and Kk move a bit to help her out a bit.

Paige then leans back against the headboard and pulls you with her. She holds you on top of her and then plants small kisses from your hairline to the tip or your nose then finally on the lips.

Kk and Azzi don't even register it as Paige is such a clingy person in general and with you it's only amplified but suddenly Kk snaps her head in the direction of her phone thats still set up with thousand of people watching your girlfriend comfort you and then kiss you.

Your girlfriend who isn't officially out to the media yet just kissed you in front of thousands of people.

Kk jumps up so fast and grabs her phone and just ends the live.

"Bro Kk tell me that didn't just happen" You say

"Omg guys im so sorry" Kk starts apologizing but before you can say anything you just hear Paige start giggling beneath you

She starts laughing "It's okay for real dont stress bout it. they were gonna find out eventually and that's kinda funny the way you jumped across the room getting to the phone"

Kk and Azzi sigh with relief but you just look down at Paige

"I love you Paige"

"I love you ma" she says kissing you again this time without the cameras

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taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me · 1 day ago

Text

The Start

Summary: Pairing you and Bucky together on a mission is probably the worst idea Steve or Sam ever had, but it's the only way to get what they want.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"I would rather die than work with him."

"And I'd rather kill myself then work with her."

Steve rubbed his eyes as Sam messaged his temple. They knew from the start that this was a bad idea, but they thought they could make it work. Little did they know, this was going to be the most horrible idea they had ever had.

You and Bucky hated each other. Since the moment you met it had been nothing but loathsome jabs and sarcastic insults. You two couldn't stand each other, even just being in the same room would almost cause world war 3 to break out, so what Steve and Sam were asking you to do, was completely incomprehensible.

"This isn't up for debate." Steve said, looking up at the two of you from his seat at the head of the conference table. "You two will go on a mission together and that's final. We've finally made a breakthrough and I'm not going to let the two of you ruin it."

"Then put someone else on it." Bucky mumbled and crossed his arms, leaning further back in his chair.

"You're my best agents, I only trust you two with this mission."

"Flattery will get you no where Steve." You said, sighing. "Besides, I don't really have a problem with doing the mission, it's our covers that I have a problem with."

"I told you this would happen." Sam scoffed from the side, as Steve gave him the 'not now' look in return.

This conference was supposed to be a thirty minute meeting briefing you and Bucky about the mission and your cover identities, but it had been almost two hours and zero progress was made. And everytime the two captain's thought any progress was made, either you or Bucky would say something to each other, causing a fight to break out, taking you back to step one.

"Why can't Nat do it?" You questioned, testing the star strangled man's patience.

"She's off on another mission with Barton." Samn replied in the blonde's place.

"Well then why don't either one of you come with me?" You pressed further.

"We're public figures, it's gonna cause a problem." Sam answered once again, patience hanging from a thread.

"I'm not that bad of a partner you know sweetheart." Bucky chimed in. He loved riling you up, seeing you get so annoyed at him, it was probably his favorite thing to witness in the world. Next only to seeing you red with anger that he was the source of.

"Is that so?" You rebutted. "I'm sure the agent with a broken arm would beg to differ."

"It was his fault, I told him to stay back, but he just wouldn't listen. You, on the other hand will be fine, as long as you listen to me." Bucky replied.

"Who died and made you king?" You huffed and sat up straight, eyebrows furrowed, lips turned into a scowl, wanting to do nothing but to break Bucky's face.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Spell it put for me Barnes."

"I'm more experienced than you, it only makes sense that I take the lead." Bucky answered, leaning further back with his arms still folded, a cocky expression taking over his face.

"I'd have more experience too if I was born the the 1800s grandpa." You quipped, making Sam snort out a laugh, watching the second unfold with amusement. Before either one of you could take things any further, Steve interrupted.

"Look, this mission is going to happen, weather you like it or not. It's not everyday we discover a hydra trafficking ring and it's definitely not everyday we find ways to infiltrate it. So suck it up and do the mission."

"But-" Bucky started but was instantly cut off by a frustrated Steve.

"That's an order." He slammed his hands on the table and stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'm sick of your crap, Sam's gonna brief you further."

He walked out of the room, shaking his head and sighing out loud. You crossed your arms, sitting in the same stance as Bucky as Sam whistled under his breath.

"Never thought I'd see him break, but here we are. Congratulations, you've just accomplished the impossible." He pulled the chair Steve was sitting on closer and sat down to start briefing the two of you.

"After months of tracking we have finally found out the location of where the hydra's biggest business deal will go down. To be honest, I expected it to be some warehouse in a remote location, but turns out it's in Paris. There's going to be a big party where all the party headliners are going to get together and sign off on about a hundred people's life. Your job is to go to the party as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, get cozy with the folks and then take them out, simple as that."

"Yeah, one more thing." You started, leaning forward with your elbows on the conference table. "Aren't they going to recognize him? I mean" You trailed off, but it was quiet clear what you were insinuating. No one was going to believe that the Winter Soilder was married let alone some Mr. Smith.

There was an immediate shift in Bucky, his shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched further, if it was even possible and he let out and audible scoff.

"That's taken care of as well." Sam replied, noticing the shift instantly. "The people there never mixed with Bucky's side of Hydra. They're all just rich Russian businessmen Hydra kept around for money. They know nothing about anything that goes on."

"Don't worry doll, I'm not going to put you in any danger." Bucky finally spoke up, voice gruff, eyes shifting towards you with his arms still folded. "You've got nothing to be scared about."

"I'm not scared shithead." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "The only thing I'm worried about is you going all robocop leading to me handle everything myself."

"Oh please." It was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes now. "As if you're all perfect."

"Shove it where the sun don't shine Barnes."

"You know what-"

"Okay enough." Sam butted in, finally having had enough. "You two can rip each others head out on your own time, but right now I need you both to listen the fuck up. Two weeks, that's all we're asking of you. Keep your differences aside for two god forsaken weeks and get through this alive. You'll never have to see each others faces after the okay?"

"Fine." Your grumbled, leaning into your chair with arms folded, exasperation evident on your face.

"Whatever." Bucky mumbled, mimicking your stace. You two might have to act civil towards each other for the next two weeks, but that dosen't mean you had to now.

"Bitch." Bucky said under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, knowing it'll get a rise out of you. For Sam's sake you would have left it alone, but you weren't going to let him have the last word.

"Dickhead."

#bucky x you #bucky barns imagine #avengers #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers #sam wilson

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 days ago

Text

Welcome home

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this story based on the recent news about Max, btw I had a feeling it was going to be a girl, he is such a girl dad :) Here's my Max masterist and my main one if you want to read more

The soft glow of the living room lamp cast gentle shadows on the walls as you sat curled up on the sofa, a thick blanket wrapped around you and your daughter nestled into your side. Her small head rested against your chest, warm and relaxed, as you read from the pages of her favorite picture book — something about animals wearing pajamas and going to bed late, ironically matching your current situation.

Your voice was calm but slow, your eyelids growing heavier with each sentence. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t fall asleep, not before Max came home. He’d texted just a little while ago—“Landing now. Can’t wait to see you both.”

You gently yawned and blinked a few times, tightening your hold around your daughter as you turned the page.

Then, you heard it.

The jingle of keys on the other side of the front door. A pause. A click.

Your daughter’s head shot up, eyes sparkling with recognition. “Daddy!” she squealed before scrambling out of your arms and racing toward the door just as it swung open.

Max barely had time to take a step inside before she leapt into his arms, giggling with pure joy. He caught her effortlessly, laughing as he lifted her high. His racing bag fell to the floor unnoticed.

“Hey, liefje,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek and holding her tight. His eyes then lifted and found yours across the room—and softened. “Hey, mama.”

You got up slowly, walking over to them, and he leaned in to kiss you—slow and tender, a kiss that said everything he didn’t have words for in that moment. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.

“I missed you more,” you said, your smile sleepy but real.

Before either of you could say more, your daughter launched into an excited ramble about her day at school—something about a glittery art project and how she and her friend made a rocket ship out of cardboard. Max listened intently, nodding, still holding her as if she weighed nothing.

He carried her down the hallway as she kept talking, her voice growing softer as sleep began to catch up with her. You followed them to the doorway of her room, leaning quietly against the frame as Max tucked her in, brushing hair from her face.

“Love you, daddy,” she mumbled, eyes already closed.

“I love you more, always,” Max whispered, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before standing up and walking with you toward the bedroom.

Once the door was closed behind you both, he exhaled deeply and dropped onto the edge of the bed. “God, I needed this.”

You sat beside him, reaching to touch his face, your fingers running through his messy travel-worn hair. “You look exhausted.”

“I am.” He turned toward you, his hands finding your waist as you leaned into him. “But I’ve been counting the minutes to get back to you.”

You smiled softly, brushing your lips against his again. “I hate being apart.”

“I hate it more,” he said against your skin, his mouth trailing gentle kisses along your neck. “But I’m here now.”

You let him pull you into him completely, warmth returning to your body just from the feel of him—his familiar scent, the scratch of stubble against your cheek, the way his hands knew exactly where to hold you.

And as the night stretched out before you, long after your daughter’s whispers had faded into sleep, you let yourselves forget the world outside. Just the two of you again, making up for lost time.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader

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dmbakura · 2 days ago

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i still think the devil may cry fandom's vast oversimplification of the themes in devil may cry (regarding human "good" vs demon "evil") are amplifying some very bad faith criticisms of the netflix adaptation. as well as some weird moral essentialism i just really don't vibe with. this is long and kinda messy but whatever.

i see people mostly take issue with this scene in which lady and white rabbit have their confrontation and lady says this:

this, to me, does not go against the themes of the game at all. it's not some cynical attack on "humanity". contextually, this is a sorely needed moment of reflection on lady's part, where she's able to connect with white rabbit and realizes that their ruthlessness is a shared trait. she's speaking about herself here. lady considers herself the antithesis of a demon, yet she realizes how terrible she's been acting and that they're Not So Different. she's a flawed human being and this is an explicit, textual acknowledgment of that.

i really take issue with the idea that devil may cry has ever been about coddling and portraying humans as innately good. most major villains in the dmc games are human, statistically. every single dmc game except the first 1 has an over-arcing human villain at the center of the conflict. sanctus is a religious cult leader. agnus is an unethical mad scientist. arius is a CEO. arkham is a wife killer. these are all very human evils. demon villains like mundus and argosax tend to embody more stereotypically villainous evils, but the human villains are much more nuanced and varied in their approach, which in some respects makes them a lot more dangerous.

but you might say "well they're evil because they throw away their humanity, as dante even calls out. these tears are a gift only humans have" and to which i say, so? these are conscious choices these villains made to get where they are. yes, thematically their decision to throw away good traits like compassion and empathy led them on the path to evil, and dante himself equates these traits with humanity, but dante is also biased against his demon half and has an entire arc about being wary of that part of himself until he's finally able to accept it, which is how he awakens his sin devil trigger in 5 (mirroring vergil's rejection/ultimate acceptance of his human half.)

idk man. just feels yucky seeing all of this "well demons have always been an Evil Race in devil may cry" when no, it's always been more complex than that and pretending otherwise is a massive disservice to this series. there is no hard moral dichotomy in dmc. sparda disproves this from the very opening scene from the very first game. he was one of the most powerful demons in hell, who fell in love with humanity and decided to turn against his own kind. even if demons in a general sense tend to be "evil" (mundus seems to be a particular outlier in how evil they are honestly, hating humanity to an almost comical extent), they're shown to be completely capable of good, just as on the flip side, humans are capable of being evil. again, it's about choice, what you do with the power given to you, choosing to protect what's important or throwing away everything. these are not immutable traits of humans or demons, as that would mean characters like sparda, trish, arkham, sanctus, lucia, bradley, baul, modeus, etc would not exist.

there's maybe an argument to be made about dmc netflix's explicit use of politics and whether this is appropriate or not, but i don't think it's a bad thing it decided to really dig in on the nuances of humanity. i think the choice to make white rabbit a human villain who in a sense "throws away his heart" makes him thematically consistent with devil may cry's ethos, as ive mentioned in my other post about him. i view him akin to a character like vergil, who straddles the line between human and demon, and doesn't really fit into either "demon overlord" or "overambitious human sociopath" like the other series villains. more variety is good actually.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc netflix #lady dmc #white rabbit dmc

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cloakedstarlight · 1 day ago

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I think the nuance can be applied, because Ting can be a good father— but he wasn’t a good husband.

He’s the town golden boy and he thrives in the spotlight, which is fine if he also expressed any appreciation for his wife for all that she does as a SAHM and community volunteer. But he doesn’t. Several instances show Ting undermining Siaja.

Ting balks at Siaja expressing her desire to get a job. Ting expects Siaja to go along with whatever he wants to do without question. He planned to adopt his cousin’s baby without telling Siaja about it! He expected Siaja to help him with the seal hunt at the drop of a hat, and didn’t even let her organize her booth before she left with him.

Focusing on capturing the seal he shot, he sped up the boat and caused his wife to fall into the water— due to his recklessness. He says a life is worth more than a deal to the townspeople, after he pulls her out of the water. BUT- in the next moment, Ting calls Siaja an embarrassment for falling into the water!!!

He blames her for a situation he caused because he was focused on his glory and reputation as a seal hunter, just like his dad. He didn’t express any concern about her.

And when Siaja expresses how she felt like she was slowly dying in their relationship— what’s the first thing Ting says? “You really thing you can do better than me?”

He’s constantly calling her an embarrassment, which grinds my gears because it’s used to deflect any accountability on his part. That’s insanely self-absorbed and manipulative!!!

Then, after Siaja brings Bun’s pets to Nevee’s house, Ting smoothly takes credit for bringing the pets. Which instantly places him in his daughter’s good graces and dismisses Siaja’s efforts.

The man is not an idiot. He places his social reputation above taking any accountability for his wife’s silent suffering. Ting wanted a wife that did whatever he wanted without complaint; that’s not a partnership.

Ting is not a good husband, and he reminds me of so many selfish, self-absorbed men in media who’s standard of being a good husband is, “I don’t hit her or cheat on her”— which is the lowest standard to have for yourself as a partner to a whole other person

And this is just 2 episodes worth of Ting being insufferable. But I know Bun loves her father, because he’s such a good showman— of course he’s gonna play up his good side to his daughter.

He can be a good dad— but he sucks as a partner.

The categorization of people really lies in the different ways they present themselves to other people, I think. People can be different things to different people.

But if I knew a guy like Ting— life of the party and a good people person— but then also saw how he treated his wife? I wouldn’t wanna be around him.

i know i begged people to watch north of north but i'm already getting annoyed by the flood of lack of nuance enjoyers watching it

#can we stop categorizing people as either the worst or pure and good #can we let people exist in the shades of gray #there’s a lot of things to not like about Ting #but ppl should NOT hate him because he’s a brown man #it can be hard to stop caring for a person that you had good memories with but was also the cause of your pain #Thise emotions are conflicting #but the past good moments should NOT keep you tied to a person that genuinely doesn’t see value you in the way that you deserve #he could’ve been a golden boy that was over the moon for his wife!!!#but no- he loved himself and the way that he was perceived more #it’s fun to be around someone who feels like the life of the party #but it becomes an issue if they get upset at sharing the spotlight- so to speak #idk I just think Ting could’ve been better if he unpacked his issues with wanting to be perceived as good while not working on being good yk #to all the white husband’s in media that neglect their wives and keep them as status symbols— this applies to them too #I’m sympathetic to Neevee but I acknowledge that it would’ve been a struggle to have Neevee as a mom #from how Siaja talked about going from taking care of Neevee to taking care of Ting #I have. feeling that Siaja went through some parentification growing up #the environment of growing up with an alcoholic mother sounds TURBULENT to say the least #it just reminds me of Jo’s arc in Grey’s Anatomy when she sees her alcoholic mom again #and all the painful memories that Jo lives with but her mom was too drunk to remember a thing #that was so tragic because there’s no true resolution to that sort of grief

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tkomptgoedluv · 1 day ago

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revenge.

tear you apart pt.2

pt.1 here | pt.2

grumpycafeworkervampire! joost x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, internetcafe & vampire au, reader doesn’t know how to cope very well, joost’s heart is too big for his body, they’re both desperate to be the other one’s peace, so much hurt, possibly even more comfort, plenty of angst, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 8,490.

warnings: very detailed descriptions of blood and self harm, descriptions of an un-specific mental illness, semi-heavy stalking, breaking and entering, mentions of gore, brief mentions of violence + abuse, rpf.

notes: hello my lovelies <3 thank you so much for being so patient with this one! it’s not only the longest fic that i’ve ever written, but also genuinely my pride and absolute joy. i fear that i might not ever be able to top this one, actually, so please enjoy it! just keep in mind that this fic comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING.

also once again, a big big shoutout to my BABY @joosthead for putting up with me constantly asking her to check the doc every time that i added something. please go check out her work if you haven’t already — she’s got some mad shit coming 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

you never really were too good at knowing when to stop, were you?

it’s always been easy for you to get lost in it, lost in the feeling of your old razor blades carving line after line into your skin. once you started, you just had to keep going until you physically couldn’t. not until you’d get too dizzy to focus, until you just couldn’t quite keep your grip tight enough on the razor anymore.

you never learned how to cope any other way; since you were fifteen, it had been your default. cutting yourself up whenever you started to feel too much, or whenever levi would push you too far. as a kid, it was more of a punishment but with him, it was your way of controlling all the pain that you felt.

that’s why you’d done it again, why it’s been the only thing that you’ve managed to do over the past five days or so. you were trying to control things, trying to come to terms with what you had seen and all the big feelings that came right along with it.

you’d spent so long wishing him away — daydreaming of all the terrible things that could happen so you’d finally be free of him. you never actually thought that it would happen, though. that you’d witness your own boyfriend get ripped apart limb from limb; devoured as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat.

you hated that some sick and twisted part of you deep down, missed him. that you just couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was gone now. and you hated that when it came to joost, you weren’t quite sure what you felt. for less than a fucking hour he’d been the closest thing to a friend that you’d had in years, but then he’d gone and done that and —

blood dripped down from your wrists, the tops of your arms, and your thighs, and onto the dirty white tiles of your bathroom floor. you’d never gotten this carried away before, and you had made such a mess of it. all the cleaning up would have to be done tomorrow because right now you doubted that you’d even be able to stand.

at least you weren’t feeling quite so much anymore; only the stinging of each and every single one of the fresh cuts. it all hurt, but it was a better thing to feel than the guilt that had kept you confined inside the walls of your own home for so long. you couldn’t help but wonder if you would die here, alone and bleeding on your bathroom floor, or if the police would find you before you’d get the chance to.

you’ve seen bits and pieces of what his friends had been saying online— knew that they wanted to report levi as a missing person now. you wondered how long it would be before the police would come for you, either looking for him or his killer. then again, you weren’t actually sure if there was even a body left behind for them to find.

finally, after god knows how many, you put the razor blade down. it clattered against the linoleum and laid still in one of the few small pools of your own blood. honestly, you were a little proud of what you had done to yourself, even though it still felt like it wasn’t enough.

in a daze, you just sat there quietly as the time passed, as the blood slowly began to dry. you weren’t entirely sure of the time but it had to have been late from how dark it was outside. your phone was somewhere in your flat, having died a while ago after you neglected to charge it for a few days, but it’s time probably would’ve read something like one or two o’clock in the morning.

no one had been by to check on you, not that you had expected them to, especially not at a time like this, so you jumped when you heard a knock at your front door. silence rang out as you waited, too afraid to move, until you finally heard another one. only then did you get up.

it was with wobbly legs that you limped your way out of the bathroom and through your hallway, your heart hammering away inside your chest. you tried to peer out through your front room windows as you hobbled over to the door, certain that you’d see flashing blue lights or the silhouette of a police officer waiting for you on your doorstep.

but as you opened your front door just an inch, barely wide enough to peak your head around outside, all you saw was nothing. no cars going past, no people wandering by, nothing.

for just a moment, you could have laughed. because this was it now, surely; your breaking point. all that guilt, all of that paranoia — it was finally driving you mad.

the old hinges of your door squeaked as you went to close it again, turning on your heels as you did so. you glanced up as one of the floorboard creaked from behind you, the gloss in your eyes only slightly blurring the sight of him standing right there, somehow.

you went to scream, a high pitched, blood-curdling shriek right on the rip of your tongue when his hand came up to cup your mouth shut. he knocked you back into the door, slamming it shut as his entire body weight came down to have you pinned against it. you could feel just how hard he was shaking as he held you there, see how those big, panicked eyes of his were flickering between blue and red.

“no no no, please, please don’t scream. i’m not gonna hurt you.”

joost was frantic as he spoke, almost choking on each of his words, begging for you to keep quiet. no matter how desperately you were trying to fight against him, your nails clawing at his chest through his shirt as you fought to get him off of you, you weren’t going anywhere. the more that you struggled, the harder his grip on you got.

you had no way of knowing it yet, but this was killing him. seeing you so small like this, crying out, sobbing, against his hand as you used what little strength you had left to try and push him away — it was undoubtedly going to haunt him.

he knew that he shouldn't be here, not really. he shouldn’t know where you live, shouldn’t have followed you home that one night a couple months ago. it was just that there had been an attack in your city that week; some poor girl found dead in an alleyway, all bloody and beaten, barely clothed. he’d already had your routine memorised by then, so he knew that you’d be making your way back from the cafe alone, in the middle of the night.

joost had just wanted to protect you, he’d just wanted to make sure that you weren’t about to become the next headline in the local newspaper. at least, that was what he had told himself as he’d stayed hidden away in the shadows, his head down low and hood pulled up as he’d ‘escorted’ you home without you ever knowing it.

sure, it had definitely crossed some lines, him sneaking out of the cafe’s back door after you’d left that night to follow you, but the alternative was worse, right?

that’s what all this came down to, really. his insatiable need to know that you were safe. because last week, you’d ran from him that night with marks on your arm that your boyfriend hadn’t been the one to put there. and you’d ran from him, no less, scared out of your mind at the mere sight of him as he’d stood there pleading with you to stay.

and joost couldn’t stand that.

everyone else could view him as a monster and treat him as such, but not you.

never you.

that was the only reason why he’d ended up on your doorstep tonight. he needed to know that you were okay, that you were still alive, and that you understood that what he had done to levi, he would never, ever, do to you.

it was never his plan to ‘invite’ himself in the way that he had. he was going to knock on your door and wait for you to answer it, and he was prepared to spend the rest of the night out there, reasoning with you to just hear him out if he had to. and if by the end of it all you were to still cast him out with the promise of never wanting to see him again, he’d find a way to live with it. just as long as you’d be okay; he’d live with it.

it was never his plan to get to the top of your street and already be able to smell it. the thick, sweet, iron-heavy smell of your blood already so strong that he was gagging by the time he made it to your doorstep. hunched over and heaving, he’d stumbled up to your front door, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths through his mouth before finally knocking. it took everything in him, every little last bit of willpower, not to turn right then and there.

“lieverd, it’s okay. i promise it’s okay; i’m just here to talk. you…you don’t have to fight me.”

even as you were still thrashing, joost leant down to rest his forehead against yours. his eyes bore into yours as they continued to flash between the two different colours, a few tears of his own welling up behind his waterline. the last time that you were up this close, close enough to see the sweat shining on his temples, you were grasping onto his arm in such a feeble attempt to hide yourself from who you thought to be the only monster in the room.

the one whose blood you’d later seen dripping down from in between joost’s fingers, as he’d clutched onto his heart like a trophy.

he should be the real monster to you — a small part of you even wanted him to be. as terrible as levi truly was, he’d never bitten the head off of anyone, never ripped a heart straight out of someone’s chest. he was just…levi. he was your boyfriend and you hated him, but you never wanted him to die.

there was a bigger part inside of you, though, one that twisted up at the thought of joost being anything like one of the ‘bad guys’ from your old bedtime stories. because despite everything that you’d seen, despite how he’d found out where you lived, somehow, and now had you pinned up against your own front door with his hand holding your mouth shut, you knew that he wasn’t. he wasn’t evil, wasn’t dangerous like how your boyfriend had been, and you knew that. you just didn’t quite know it yet.

still, you began to relax. whether it was by choice or because you simply didn’t have any fight left in you anymore, you weren’t entirely sure. your whole body felt as though it was on fire from how several of your cuts had ripped open slightly from your struggle. small spots of blood started to seep through the thin, white cotton of your shorts as you almost went limp against joost; your eye-contact unbreaking.

there was just something about the way in which he was looking at you. it was the exact same one he gave you that night last week, when he was desperately trying to convince you not to go back home to levi. his hands had been cupping each one of your cheeks, his warm breath fanning across your face as he panted. seeing that same look on him now, it was enough for you.

joost had felt you start to ease, had heard the fast beating of your heart start to slow. his grip on your mouth loosened as he gently wiped away the wet from your face with his free hand, tucking the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes.

“i’m gonna let you go now, okay? then we can talk?”

you nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes.

as he held back a breath, joost finally moved his hand away from your mouth and took a single step back — allowing you just enough space to stand up on your own. he still hadn’t looked away from your face, his eyes stuck on yours as he searched your features for any signs of fear, any signs that you were about to turn and run.

but instead you seemed…calm. still very much in shock; your hands still very much trembling as you wrapped your arms around your middle. but you were calm enough to stand your ground and not shrink underneath his gaze. you didn’t flinch when both of his hands came up to cup either side of your jaw, the pads of his thumbs caressing along the skin.

“are-are you okay? i’ve not seen you in…i thought that maybe you had…”

he couldn’t quite find it in him to finish his sentence. it wasn’t like he needed to, you already knew exactly what he was talking about, and now it all started to make sense.

that look in his eyes, the way his voice kept shaking every time that he spoke. he was here because he was scared, terrified even, that you’d done something to yourself. that night you’d told him, or rather shown him your secret so he knew what you were capable of now, and it had been driving him mad ever since you disappeared.

you hadn’t needed to say anything; the way you suddenly pulled yourself away from him had said enough. in all of the chaos he hadn’t thought to simply look down. if he had, he would have seen all the damage you’ve already done; every single one of the fresh cuts that you’ve given yourself tonight and all of the ones from the nights before. the old vest top and pyjama shorts that you were wearing weren’t hiding anything — from your shoulders down to your shins, he could see everything now that he had finally dropped his gaze.

with his head down, you couldn’t see his face but you could feel the way he tensed up. you could hear him sniff, cough, and swallow down the bile that was rising up in his throat as he stumbled back a few steps.

you were still bleeding.

it was making his teeth ache.

neither of you said anything for a while. you stood frozen by the door, your arms still wrapped around yourself as he just stared blankly at you with tears running down his cheeks.

he felt sick; sickened by the very thing he’d been so afraid of now staring at him right back in the face. he couldn’t stand the sight of it but couldn’t bring himself to look away, either — there was just so much red. long, neat lines of red that covered you almost completely from head to toe; no patch of skin left unmarked. it was vile, it was abhorrent, it was breaking his heart.

“why?”

that was all joost could muster. a pathetic, broken question as he tried so desperately to pull himself back together.

“i…i don’t know.” you paused only to wipe your teary eyes on the back of your hand. “i never know what else to do when i feel like this; it’s just been hard, joost -”

you trailed off, quickly losing your train of thought when you heard him sob all of a sudden. you hadn’t seen him start to crack because you’d been staring down at your feet, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his eyes. except now he was the one trying to hide, his arm coming up to cover his face as he cried hard enough to make his shoulders bounce.

he repeated ‘i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.’ like a mantra in between shallow gasps of breath and hiccups.

he was blaming himself for this because how could he not? all those cuts along your skin; you might have been the one behind the blade but he had been the one to do it. he’d been the one to scar you like this. that one irreversible act of his that he prayed would keep you safe had pushed you to an edge that he feared he wouldn’t be able to pull you back from.

it wasn’t even his responsibility to, not really. he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, either. still, he found himself loving you in a way that didn’t make any sense.

and you loved him too, didn’t you? in a way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around because of course you did. you proved that to both yourself and to him by how you finally moved from your spot by the door just so you could take his hands and pry his arms away from his face. you let him engulf you, cradling you close to his chest as he cried into your shoulder because you knew that he needed it.

you didn’t know who he was or even what he was, but you knew that he wasn’t something to truly fear. deep down you knew that you loved him in such an awfully twisted way, and you knew that he needed to feel you just to know that you weren’t going anywhere.

joost was still spilling out his apologies as you tried so hard to soothe him. you felt him shiver under your touch when you let your hands slip underneath the hem of his t-shirt to rub the hot skin of his sides, your soft little whispered assurances filling his ear.

it wasn’t his fault, nor was it levi’s or anyone else’s. you were like this long before he’d ever set his eyes on you and a part of you had already accepted that you always will be. the very last thing that you wanted was for it to be a burden someone else had to carry, let alone somebody like joost.

“you didn’t do this, okay? it’s alright. i’m gonna be alright.”

maybe it was cruel of you to try and calm him with words that even you didn’t fully believe in. what you had done to yourself only an hour ago, only you would ever be to blame for it, but you didn’t know if you were going to be alright in the end. you were still a witness to what he’d done and you were still doomed to live with the guilt of that.

“you don’t need to apologise for what i’ve done; you know that this is what i do. it’s not your fault.”

“but i fucked up, lieverd.” joost shuddered as he sucked in a sharp breath, sniffing. “i fucked up and i did this to you; you did it because of me.”

you hushed him, carefully stepping back just enough so that you had the room to cradle either side of his neck in your hands, urging him to look back at you. as soon as he did, you could see that his eyes were back to being just their usual sweet blue, nothing else.

“i did it because i was scared, joost. i didn’t know what else to do.”

“what, scared of me?”

his question was more like a punch to the gut than anything else. for just a moment it knocked the air out of you; left you winded and with no idea on how to go about answering it. truthfully, the answer was yes, but also no, because it was never actually him that you were so afraid of.

you were just afraid of what he did; what you know joost is truly capable of now. you were afraid of the part of you that was almost relieved to see levi suffer what he did, knowing that it meant that he wouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore. but again, you never wanted him to die. you never wanted to see him get torn apart, piece by piece.

joost whimpered out your name when you didn’t answer and instead just stood there with your mouth slightly agape. your lack of an actual, verbal answer was an answer in itself, really, and he knew that; knew that you were probably just too scared and too kind to tell him the truth. still he needed to hear you say it though, purely for his own sake, he needed to hear you say that he wasn’t just another monster to you.

but the longer that he waited, the weaker his knees started to feel. he kind of fell into you, in a way, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck as your arms came up to hold him against you. his hot tears ran down your skin and pooled together in the dip of your collarbone and it was right then that your own eyes started to burn.

slipping out from his grasp, you wordlessly led him by the hand over to your sofa. you watched him collapse onto it as you took a seat next to him, his elbows rested on his knees as his head hung low in between them. his shoulders were still shaking and you could still hear each of the muffled cries that were spilling from his lips.

“please, please, believe me, lieverd. what i did…i never wanted it to hurt you. i’m so sorry.”

you curled yourself into a tight little ball and let out a long, deep breath, one that you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. you had questions; so, so many questions that had been festering, growing like mould in the back of your head. and joost could almost feel you holding them back as he looked up at you with such watery eyes, the only red in them being the sore, puffy rings around them.

“ask me anything, whatever you wanna know.”

“why did you do it?”

there was no emotion in your voice and you kept your face blank as you spoke — it was only the slight quiver of your bottom lip that gave you away.

“he was going to hurt you, schatje.”

“but how…how were you even…?”

it had happened decades ago, back when internet cafes were still just your average libraries and when only the rich could afford to have their own mobile phones.

joost had been young, living off the high of infamy and adoration that came with being in one of the best punk bands in the scene at the time. him and his friends, they’d been something of local legends; for good and for bad, it just depended on who you asked. those that loved them deemed them god-like in their old denim and rusted chains, and those that hated them, simply feared them.

he’s not proud of it, how they spent day after day rotting away in a garage, doing whatever drugs they could get their hands on and writing songs just to spend night after night playing shows at only the worst bars they could find. how they’d get even more off their faces afterwards and start fights, smashing up the venues and spray-painting anarchy symbols anywhere and everywhere that they could. how if the night didn’t end with them running away from the cops then it would end with them in the bed of anything with a pretty face, two legs, and a heartbeat.

and then what was supposed to be the best night of the band’s life, the biggest show they’d ever played to a crowd that already knew all the words to their songs, became nothing more than the beginning of the end. it’d happened after they’d all really outdone themselves, whilst those so-called ‘friends’ of his that only ever brought out the worst of him were all passed out somewhere, and joost had decided to go out for a little wander.

still to this day, he can’t remember the face of who had jumped him. the alleyway had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to even know where he was, so all that truly stuck with him was the agony of it all. the searing pain of a pair of fangs plunging deep into the side of his neck, the gradual, stinging cold he’d felt as the life was almost all but drained from him. whoever it was, they’d left him there to die afterwards — still to this day, a part of him wishes that he had.

waking up that next morning something so much worse than human, consumed by an appetite so uncontrollable that he just couldn’t help himself when he came across that lone jogger whilst on his way back to his friends. surely it had to have been worse than death. he’d torn that poor guy to shreds as if it was nothing, as if he was just pulling chicken off the bone.

but he hadn’t stopped there, had he? he couldn’t, he didn’t know how to. even after he’d shown up on his drummer’s doorstep covered in blood and crying his eyes out, he had to keep going, keep feeding. because joost wasn’t too good at knowing when to stop, either, was he?

it had taken him years to figure it out, actually. years of mindless, reckless slaughter to realise that he actually hated what he was now, and that his ‘friends’ weren’t ever really his friends. from the moment he’d shown up that day, all stained red and babbling about the man he’d just killed, the band played him like a puppet simply because they knew that they could.

regardless of the change, he was still joost. they knew that it really wouldn’t take much to get inside of his head, to spin whatever that had happened to him into something almost profitable for them all. and it hadn’t, because everything they had him do was always ‘for the band’, so really, how could he have said no?

besides, he would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t come to enjoy it, after a while. seeing the life drain from their eyes as they’d beg for mercy, pleading with him, promising him that they’d do whatever he wanted if he’d just let them go. he’d always laugh then, before sinking his teeth into their throats.

and it helped that these people also happened to be nobodies, too. from shitty bar owners that wouldn’t let them play to members of a rival band that had just gotten a little too cocky for their own good. no one ever missed them, most hardly noticed that they were gone.

joost was never a monster to them, to the band, just an over-glamorised attack dog that could do a lot more than just bite.

it had taken him far too many years to realise it.

“that’s how i ended up with the cafe…i wanted to get away; i didn’t want to be like that anymore.” he paused only to gauge your reaction, or more so your lack of one. you hadn’t said a word the entire time, hadn’t flinched or pulled a face; you had barely even blinked.

“what did you do with the body?…his body?”

the sudden sound of your voice, it made him glance back up at you with a small quiver in his lip. you were still staring blankly at the wall ahead, your expression borderline unreadable, but your words hadn’t cracked and your hands weren’t shaking anymore, either.

“i know some people that are…like me; they handled it.” when you fell quiet again, joost continued, wiping the snot from his nose as he did so. “i’ve done a lot of bad things, lieverd. what i did to levi, fuck, that’s not even the worst of it. you should be scared of me; i’m scared of me.”

“i’m not.”

“why?”

“because if you were still the monster that you think you are, i wouldn’t have even made it halfway out the door that night.”

after only another moment or two of silence had passed did you finally look down to meet his eyes again. whilst there was a shine in yours that definitely matched his own, there was something so soft about the way you were gazing at him. it made the muscles beneath his shoulders relax and drop down as he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.

you didn’t need to elaborate any further, didn’t need to say anything else to prove to him that you knew he wasn’t that person anymore. he could tell simply from the hint of a smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. from how it was with careful, delicate movements that you moved to crawl onto his lap and hugged him, nuzzling your face into the curve of his neck.

the large, warm palms of joost’s hands slid underneath the cotton of your tank top and soothed the cool skin of your spine as he rested his head against yours. instead of asking how you were even real, how someone so undeniably good was able to look past each and every single one of his sins, he kept quiet to let the last few tears of his fall.

but if he had in fact asked, then you would’ve told him that truly, you couldn’t hold any of it against him.

of course it was all awful, from the countless faces he’d torn apart to the people that he terrorised even before the change. your skin had been crawling as joost had spoken and you just couldn’t ignore the fact that anyone else in your position probably would’ve taken off running by now. that, and that they’d have every right to.

except you weren’t just anyone, were you? as far as you were concerned, those old so-called ‘friends’ of his were the real monsters, because you of all people knew what it was like to be hurt by those you trusted most. to have someone so deep inside your mind that you quickly became blind to everything else. you couldn’t hold it against him because in your heart, you got it. you could feel that, that wasn’t who joost was anymore.

“can you stay tonight? for a little while?”

you felt his hands trail down to the side of your hips and squeeze as you pulled away just enough to see his face, your own two hands falling down to rest against his stomach.

“i’ll stay for as long as you want me to, schatje. i’m here.”

being on the brink of almost giddiness as you nodded, that small smile of yours twisting up into an almost grin, you hadn’t realised how his fingers were starting to roam. that his hands were gently moving around, rubbing up and down the flesh of your waist until they reached the very front of your hips.

you hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been able to take hold of his wrists to stop him before the soft pads of his thumbs could find the aching, bumpy lines of the cuts you’d put there a few days ago. as you froze, you watched his own sweet smile drop and his eyebrows furrow, and felt him slowly lift up the hem of your top just enough to see the true extent of it.

even in the low light of your living room, even if his eyesight wasn’t as unnaturally good as it was, he still wouldn’t have been able to miss it. just like the rest of you was, the tight skin of your stomach and all the way across to your hips were marked with the same harsh, red gashes. most were scabbed over but a couple were sprouting fresh drops of blood from where you’d been moving around so much, pulling them apart at the seams.

you went to stand and then tried to simply twist yourself away when you couldn’t, but even then joost’s hold on you was too strong. his touches were feather-soft as he traced the tips of his fingers along every single one, following them down to the ones on your things and then back up along the ones on your arms. by the time that he reached your eyes again they were already scrunched up closed, hiding from him.

“because of me.”

it was more of a statement than a question, partly because he already knew the answer, and partly because he knew that you’d still deny it if he asked.

“joost -”

“- you have a first aid kid somewhere, right? lemme help.”

you shook your head as you went to tug your vest top back down, only to freeze when you finally caught a glimpse of all the little spots of blood that had seeped through your clothes. you stopped and stared at them for longer than you meant to, your hands trembling as you toyed with the material between your fingers.

the blood was always your favourite part. how it would slowly peek through the small breaks in your skin before oozing out, running down your body until the drops would fall and hit the floor. it had a way of hypnotising you every single time, making you want to keep going and going just so you could see it happen over again and again. even now, when the tiny red polka dots were nothing more than just a few sticky stains on your top, turning the tips of your fingers a deep pink.

it took joost gently prying your hands away for you to snap out of it.

“n-no, no, i can’t let you do that. it wouldn’t be fair, not when there’s so much blood and you’re…”

“i’ll be fine, lieverd, i promise.” you felt him give your hands a soft squeeze as he paused, “let me help you.”

there was no point in trying to change his mind. once you lifted your head back up and saw how those big blue eyes of his were staring back at you, the smudged, dark makeup around them making them seem so might brighter, you no longer had the heart to tell him no again. he could have asked anything of you, and you would’ve said yes.

“it’s in the bathroom.”

without warning, joost moved to grip the backs of each of your thighs and stood up, smiling when you squealed as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. it baffled you for a moment how it seemed as though he already knew where to go, that he already knew that your bathroom was all the way down the hall, last door on the left. you chalked his strong sense of direction up to it just being another one of the many perks that came along with being…well, him.

and whilst that was true, maybe it wasn’t the only reason why he specifically knew the layout of your home already. maybe he’s escorted you home more than just the once, twice, three times. maybe this wasn’t actually his first time walking down your hallway at all.

the cold of your bathroom counter underneath you made you jump slightly as joost carefully set you down on it. you’d left the light on from when you were in here earlier; your razor still laying discarded on the floor, coated in a drying layer of your own blood. you hadn’t even thought he’d seen it until he was picking it up and tossing it in the bin as if it was just a piece of rubbish that he’d dropped.

neither of you were saying anything. joost had fallen uncharacteristically quiet, breathing somewhat heavily through his mouth as he dug through your cabinets until he finally found that little green box with the red cross on on the front. his hands were shaking as he opened it, pulling out the countless packets of alcohol wipes and plasters, dropping a few things as he did so.

had you been paying more attention, then you would’ve noticed that actually, this was taking quite the toll on him. but you couldn’t shift your eyes away from the bin, the one that now contained the very last one of your razor blades amongst a small collection of used tissues and tampon wrappers. joost had thrown away your last one, and now you had none.

“okay, i’m sorry if this stings, schat. let me know if you need me to stop, okay?”

it was as you were nodding that you suddenly hissed, your leg jolting from the pain of the alcohol wipe joost had used to clean the first of the cuts on your upper thigh. on instinct you tried to pull away, fighting against the grip that he held on you to keep your leg still against the counter.

you weren’t expecting it to hurt as much as it did. considering how many times that you’ve been here before, cleaning yourself up because you didn’t always have someone around that cared enough to want to do it for you, you thought you would have been used to it by now. you never would have guessed that it would have you in near tears all over again, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until your knuckles slowly started to turn white.

maybe this was just the price you had to pay for going a little deeper than you meant to.

“hey, do you think you could just…i don’t know, talk, for a while? tell me something about yourself?” at the look of confusion on your face joost just smiled, raising his hands a little to show you just how hard they were shaking. “it’ll help me concentrate.”

he was struggling more than he thought he’d be.

except how could he not be? this was a lot for him. all that blood of yours smeared and stained across his fingers aside, simply just being this close to you was enough to somehow make him feel lightheaded. feeling your knees on either side of his thighs as he stood in between your legs, so close to you in fact that he could hear your heartbeat louder than anything else.

he just needed to hear your voice, needed something else to focus on besides your blood that now laid underneath his fingernails.

“oh shit, uh, okay….um…”

you weren’t sure why you started to chuckle, almost, stumbling over these noises that barely even resembled words. you wanted to come up with something to talk about fast, to help get joost’s mind off of what he was actually doing, but the harder you thought the quicker your mind went blank. nobody’s ever really asked you to talk about yourself before; you had no idea what to say.

there wasn’t a whole lot to say, really. you used to have interests; hobbies that you used to put your heart and soul into, dreams that you were so determined to make a reality for yourself. levi had, had other plans for you, though. either, he would simply take up too much of your time, or he’d be so insistent that those hobbies of yours were ‘pointless’, that eventually you grew to lose interest in them. since day one of the relationship, everything about you had to be about him.

you used to think that it was probably for the best, that maybe he was right and you really were just wasting your time. but now that he’s gone for good, and you’re stuck with someone in front of you that genuinely wants to get to know you, you realise now that there’s nothing for you to tell them. there’s nothing of who you used to be left.

joost gave your knee a quick squeeze before turning his attention onto your arms, having slowly picked up on the fact that once again, your lack of an answer told him far more than you wanted it to.

“okay, let’s start with the easy stuff — what did you want to be when you were growing up?”

“i wanted to be a painter.”

you hissed again at the burn of one of the alcohol wipes against your skin; smiling softly when he reassured you of just how brave you were being.

“a painter? that’s sick! did that happen?”

“almost. i went to school for it, got a degree and everything, but uh, levi always said that it’s not a ‘real job’ so…”

joost’s frown was immediate. he was shaking his head, the lines in his forehead already so prominent. “did you really give it all up because of that? that’s bullshit.”

“i didn’t really have much of a choice, joostie.”

you both fell quiet again after that.

he felt horrible for reacting like that, fearing that you mistook all of his anger towards levi and each of the silly little ideas that the guy had planted in your head to be aimed at you. you’d sounded so defeated as your shoulders slumped, your voice falling to a near-whisper as you moved your gaze onto the floor. of course you didn’t have a choice; that much should’ve already been obvious.

and it was the look on your face now that was hurting him the most. a look of mourning as you pondered the life that you almost had, had it not been for that asshole and the hold that he’d once had over you. as joost wiped another cut clean, he regretted for just a moment not going back for seconds that night — it would’ve been the least that levi deserved.

“what kind of art did you do?”

that brought something of a smile back to your face as your mind drifted back to all of the scrapbooks you had hidden underneath your bed. old, dust-covered notebooks filled to the brim with page after page of everything from doodles to full-fledged paintings. your bottom lip wobbled when you thought of all the canvases though, the same ones you once watched levi destroy one night just because he’d wanted to see you cry after a fight.

“everything — oil paint, acrylics, watercolour. i really loved chalk, though. seeing all the stains it would leave behind made it feel like it meant something more, you know? like i was really creating something.”

a gentle grin curled the corners of your mouth up as you spoke, beginning to ramble so passionately about what you loved that joost really did almost forget what he was doing. he had to stop for a second just so that he could witness that smile of yours, see that gleam in your eyes that he’d once had himself back when he was just kid writing songs in his bedroom. in a blink of an eye, you had suddenly become so alive and it had him floored.

it had him captivated, actually; irrevocably wrapped around your finger.

his hands weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“i have a friend that’s a painter; he mainly does the oil stuff, i think, but maybe i could introduce the two of you one day? he’ll probably have some chalk laying around somewhere.”

“is he…?”

“no, he’s not like me. can i lift your shirt up a little bit? we’re almost done, i’ve just got to get the last ones.”

you nodded, wondering how it was that his skin felt so warm against yours, all things considered.

“it wouldn’t have mattered to me if he was.”

joost knew that you were telling the truth, could hear it in the way that your heartbeat kept its rhythm.

and the conversation continued to flow as joost patched up the last few cuts of yours, sticking little hello kitty plasters delicately across your hip bones. he told you all about this oil-painter friend of his, ‘daan’ — how he’d been the first genuine friend that joost had made after the change, how he never would’ve been able to get away from the band if it wasn’t for him.

joost even opened up to you about his family, his parents. even after so many years, you still had to help him breathe through it as he told you their story with tears all in his eyes. it was only fair that you did the same after that; he almost couldn’t believe it when you’d said you'd lost your parents when you were younger too, spent some time in the system just as he had. after all, that was how you met levi.

and he told you all about another friend of his, ‘lenny’, how it’s because of her that he likes foreign graphic novels so much. whenever he’s not reading those porn mags that he swears he only picks up for the articles, he’s reading and then re-reading her old japanese comic books. you were never much of a comic book kid yourself, having always preferred to lose yourself inside the pages of a stephen king or a neil gaiman instead, so you promised to read ‘death note’ if joost read ‘the shining’.

by the time that he was pulling your shirt back down and chucking away all of the used, bloodied wipes that had accumulated, you were fighting to keep your eyes open. joost could tell that he was losing you just from the way that you kept swaying from side to side and nodding your head slightly even when he hadn’t asked you a question. it made his heart ache, knowing that you were so, so exhausted but still so unwilling to sleep because you wanted to keep the conversation going.

he hadn’t told you his favourite colour yet.

“cmon you, i think it's bedtime.”

you were yawning before you could argue, letting your head fall back against the cabinet behind you. the thought of your bed was undeniably heavenly; the feeling of your mattress dipping below your weight as you curl yourself into a ball beneath your blankets. the only problem was that you were just as comfy here as you would be over there, though, perched on the edge of your bathroom countertop with joost still standing in between your legs, his hands resting on each of your thighs.

this bubble you had created with him — it wasn’t one you were ready to leave quite just yet. there was still that fear of waking up alone again lurking in the back of your mind.

and it was before you could argue that joost was also scooping you up again, holding you up by the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you back down the hall. you let your head fall to rest against his shoulder, your arms draped loosely around his neck. if it wasn’t for that fear of yours twisting your insides and rotting your brain from the inside out, you could have fallen asleep right there.

you probably would have.

“you’re gonna stay with me, right?”

joost glanced down at the top of your head with a crease in his eyebrows, carefully nudging your bedroom door open with his foot. “i already told you, lieverd, i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

“no, i know that. i just mean -” you paused when he gently set you down just beside your bed, only stepping away to turn on the light until you made a sudden, desperate reach for his wrist.

when the warm glow of the lamp flooded the room, you could see that he wasn’t smiling anymore. instead there was worry in his eyes as he took that step back closer to you again, his hands coming up to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“what’s wrong?”

“- i meant that you’re not gonna exile yourself to the sofa or anything, right? you’ll stay with me?”

it finally clicked in his head what you were asking.

and it definitely felt like a lot to be asking of him, again all things considered. you just couldn’t do it though, you couldn’t handle the idea of being by yourself anymore. it was why you always stayed in the end, with levi, why a part of you couldn’t help but miss him. his presence would be chilling but his side of the bed would always be warm when you would wake up in the mornings.

you didn’t want to start crying when you felt as though it was taking joost too long to answer. you didn’t want to guilt trip him like that, make him feel as though he had to even if he didn’t want to. but it was just another thing that you couldn’t help, because you were so tired and so afraid that you just didn’t know what else to do besides sit down and cry.

he copied you by sinking down into a squat, placing both of his hands onto each one of your knees. since you kept your eyes focused on the ceiling, trying and failing at trying to blink away your tears as you hiccuped, it was from the corners of your sight that you saw joost reach up to wipe them away himself. the pads of his thumbs stroked along the skin of your cheekbone and lingered there for a moment or two before he spoke.

“can you look at me, schatje?”

you did so almost reluctantly.

“i’m not going anywhere, alright? i’m not gonna leave you.”

nodding as you sniffled, you kept your eyes locked with his as you crawled back onto your bed and pulled back the covers. neither of you said anything nor dared to look away from the other as joost kicked off his shoes and undid the clasp of his watch, slipping it off of his wrist to leave it on your bedside table.

that was all he did before he climbed into bed with you, still dressed in the same hoodie and sweatpants that he’s had on all night. you let his arms wrap around you and tug you up into his chest as you grabbed onto fistfalls of his sweatshirt, trusting that he meant it when he said he’d stay with you but still feeling too afraid to let go.

more tears began to fall from your eyes, your shoulders wracking against him as you cried. soft, gentle circles were drawn anywhere on your skin that he could reach; your shoulders, your hips, your sides, and he murmured sweet little assurances into your ear.

“i mean it, okay? i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

it was with your whole heart that you believed him. with your tears slowly soaking through the cotton of his jumper, you believed that he’ll still be here when you wake up, all curled up with you with his hand still rubbing up and down your back.

“i’m here.”

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

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gay-dorito-dust · 14 hours ago

Note

Hey! I know you’ve been writing a lot of Bob and Void stuff, but do you write for Walker? I don’t k ow why, and maybe I’m a little odd for thinking this, but I would like him as my big brother figure. Prehaps I could request platonic hcs of him where he and reader act like siblings? Reader is chaotic sunshine and they get on each other’s nerves, but they do truly care for each other!! Bonus points for bits of Bob x reader x void hehe

I love Wyatt Russell (hate Walker tho) so I’ll make an exception for you anon. this might have more bob x reader x void then necessary. I think Walker would be an okay sibling at best.

Major PSA for idiots and dipshits: Also if you don’t wanna read the John and reader sibling dynamic, just skip to the Bob x reader x void section do the headcannons or don’t bother reading this, I’m not holding your hand when most of you are grown adults who are responsible for what you read. (Though I question that level of responsibility everyday the more I hear you moan about fuck all since you’ve got nothing else to do) so don’t blame me for what you consume. Grow up or continue to show your ass like you typically do.

you didn't like walker and you typically liked everyone and will always let it be known as whenever you were working on your aim, you'd intentionally aim for him much to Walker's annoyance.

'Can you stop shooting for me, for five mintues!' he exclaims as he looks at you as you only smiled innocently back at him.

'i don't know what your talking about.' you tell him 'i'm trying to shoot for you but you keep moving like an annoying cockroach that refuses to die.' you added as Yelena, who was stood next to you this entire time, tried to hold back a laugh but failed.

'i'm really feeling the love here team.' walker says sarcastically, lightly swatting your bicep in a repremending act, only to get a smack to his bicep in return.

'we love you too john!' you called after him as you looked back at Yelena as she looked at you with a knowing smile. 'what?' you asked her.

'you might not be family but you and john act like you could've been siblings in another life.' yelena says and you couldn't help but make a face. You were well aware that your relationship with US Agent was an odd one, you acted like you hated each other but the way it came across was more like siblings flipping each other off from the doorways of your own rooms.

which is something you both actually did do on the odd occasion, walking by the doorway of eachothers rooms within the Watchtower and flip each other off wordlessly, it didn't matter if you had company either, you'd still flip each other off regardless. much to the amuesment of the other Thunderbolts.

you both often get asked if you two were in fsct siblings, only for you and john to look at each other as though it was an insult as you both replied simultaneously with a ‘no.’ even if there were times where John did make sure you ate, drink and took proper care of yourself when he thought that you were neglecting yourself more then you should.

He’s even drag you out of the room if he felt that you were isolating yourself in there for his liking. I’m talking busting down your door and dragging you out by your legs as you kick and scream at him to let go, all the while he’s telling you to get out and socialise with the rest of the team instead of being a hermit/ bedroom gremlin. ‘Fuck off!’ You scream at John, ‘what if I want to stay in bed and do nothing.’

‘No can do, now go out with Yelena, Ava or Alexi and socialise and get some fresh air instead of suffocating in the stuffy air of your room for god sake.’ John replied as he shoved you towards Ava and Yelena as you shot him a look over your shoulder as you followed your favourite teammates. ‘Have fun!’ He sarcastically waves at you while you only show him your middle finger. ‘Kids.’ He mutters under his breath as Alexi pats him on the shoulder ‘you’re a good older brother.’ He tells John as the dirty blonde waves it off.

He didn’t think he was fit to be an older brother figure, but you brought that side out of him with how easily it was to annoy one another, he still remembered when you took his helmet and gun and painted them a glittery pick mess. He couldn’t complain at the time as the mission was integral, but he did indeed give you a mouthful afterwards about touching his stuff and fucking with them.

John swears you give him a headache almost on the daily but he’s certain that he does your head in too. So the feeling was mutual as far as he was aware.

Yet you do have moments where the care you had for one another comes through on missions as you two were usually paired up together and the protectiveness came out when the other was in close proximity to danger. You’d shove John out the line of fire, he would shove you behind him when he saw someone aiming for you, shielding you both when they open fired on you both.

Your care for each other was silent but it was there in the small acts you do for one another in a rare moment of reminding that while you acted like you couldn’t stand each other, you were there for one another regardless of the shit you’ve both done.

BOB X READER X VOID

Now when you met Bob, you found him to be cute, slightly clumsy and awkward but in an endearing way that made you want to know him more, his puppy dog eyes didn’t help make matters better as you as you were quick to find yourself spending more time with Bob and ultimately catching feelings for him.

He was meek and barely meet your eyes half of the time when you talked to him, but yet he seemed to stay with you in comparison to the rest of the group, always shoulder to shoulder to you and sharing smiles with you from across the room as butterflies fluttered within your stomach.

‘What’s your name.’ You asked.

‘Bob.’ Bob replies with a small smile, a cute smile you’d determine as you noted how small he tried to make himself look despite his tall and strong stature. There was more to him then you could see clearly, you could tell that this man was of great importance that you assumed that even Bob himself wasn’t aware of just yet.

‘We’ll get along just fine Bob.’ You tell him as he made a face similar to that of a confused puppy, a handsome cute man that you could already tell you’d get dangerously attached towards within embarrassingly short time. ‘How’d you know that?’ He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. ‘Call it a hunch but I just think we’ll work well together.’

‘I’ll trust your hunch then.’ Bob says with a smile and you knew immediately that you were fucked, he was even pretty when he smiled too with how his eyes shined and how his poetically radiated warmth and comfort that you wanted to bask yourself in forever.

Bob would find himself trusting himself within your presence more than others on the team, even going so far as you reach out and grab your hand in his and audible sigh at the touch, having gone without it for longer then he could remember. So needless to say you had become his primary person to look out for him, or just be there for him when the others went on missions and needed someone to be there with Bob until they get back.

You didn’t care as it meant you got to spend all the time possible with him as you made sure that when you were cooped up in the watch tower you would make sure that you and Bob were having fun however you could. Whether that be trying -and failing- to get into baking some cookies or watch tv together where characters make questionable decisions and Bob got to be highly amused by how annoyed you’d get when someone does something stupid.

Sometimes it got so bad to the point where he’d have to stop you from doing something rash as you ate half burnt cookies in a rather aggressive manner as you scowled at the television. It was a highlight for Bob as he got to be with you and experience all of you in your entirety. Only to end up finding himself falling more and more for you yet still being hesitant in calling the deep feelings he had for you as love or like.

So Bob takes his time with you and learns just as much about himself as he does learn about you in the process the longer he got to know and like every single part of you the more quality time you both shared without the rest of the Thunderbolts ruining it with their loud selves.

Void was equally intruded by you as much as Bob was and while he didn’t come out as often, he still was there within Bob as he got to go out with you on small trips together, or simply spending moments together in the watchtower.

He’s aware of all the moments shared between you and Bob and decided that he wanted that too, and to be selfish and more forward then meek, awkward Bob was about his own feelings that were now fully developed. Void understood what it was that he felt towards you and didn’t need anymore time to dissect and digest it, for whatever he wanted he would get sooner or later.

So don’t be surprised when you thought you were sharing a moment with Bob, only to be met with the pinprick eyes of Void as the entity merely chuckles at your look of surprise as he walks through your room as though he’s done it many times before.

‘Don’t look so surprise little bird.’ He tells you, his voice more confident and fuller then bob’s second guessing one, as though he wasn’t confident in using his own voice never less recognise it as if own, whereas void was fully aware of who he was and didn’t need to second guess himself when everything he did was absolute and precise.

‘You shouldn’t wear that face with me, when you look at Bob as though your moments away from grabbing him and kissing him at least.’ Void adds as you looked at him as he admired the photos you’ve took of yourself and fellow thunderbolt teammates and Bob.

Now with void you were a little more conflicted on how you felt towards the shadowy entity who could make people into shadows with a wave of his hand, a powerful being whom you’ve came across on occasions but he never did anything for you to detest him, only ever caress your cheeks and standing rather close to you for whatever talk to be considered casual.

He was bolder than Bob in what he wanted as void had kissed the back of your hand, drawn you close to him and even held you on rare occasions that you still think about at night, occupying your thoughts as you were conflicted on how to feel about void after what Bob had told you about feeling this endless darkness within him. One that only got worse when you were near him, as though it wanted to greet you personally.

Yet you couldn’t help but find Void charismatic and intriguing as the more you got to see him, which was mainly when you and Bob was alone or when everyone was asleep at night. He was dangerous and you knew that well enough to be cautious towards him but yet at the same time you couldn’t help but be drawn to Void whenever you do get to talk to him.

‘Where’s my kiss little bird? Am I not deserving of one unlike your precious Bob? Hmm?’ Void asks as he stepped close to you, his pinprick eyes looking deep into your own as your forced to admit that they were beautiful in their own right, in their own unique and unsettlingly way but beautiful nonetheless.

You would respond but you didn’t get the chance to becuase as soon as you blinked Bob was back in front of you, leaving you to process what had just happened just moments prior while Bob only looked at you in concern.

‘Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?’ He’d ask as he placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes for anything that could give away to him if void did anything or not.

‘No, he didn’t.’ You replied to calm his nerves as he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back as you gripped him tight, not truly grasping what you had gotten yourself into.

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shimmering-starsun · 6 hours ago

Text

there’s been an insane resurgence of headcannons in the marvel fandom thanks to thunderbolts, so heres my masterlist of headcannons i’ve seen from others that I will continue to add to :)

Yelena

her guinea pig is the group pet—named Nat

insists on doing karaoke every saturday night, she and Ava eat everyone up.

Cooks for EVERYONE. makes sure they all eat enough.

laughs at her own jokes, especially the bad ones. Ava can’t help but laugh with her.

Bucky

leads group therapy seasion every tuesday.

tries* to use brainrot and slang terms, but it catches onto Alexei, so now nobody can convince him otherwise.

helps Bob with his nightmares. Sees pre-serum Steve in Bob so he feels like he needs to protect him

talks about Sam a lot, everyones tired of it.

argues with John constantly, but they always work well together on missions.

It’s a competition to see who can sneak up on and scare bucky. He’s expressionless every time and just says “wow that was so scary”

Insists on silence breaks, everyone starts speaking again after 3 minutes.

says he never cares, but makes sure there’s water and first aid for every mission.

Bob

THE little brother.

has to have some amount of light on when he sleeps. He also loves to sleep in the living room on the couch when other’s are there to listen to the soft of their voices.

May or may not be on Booktok, either way, he reads romance and mystery.

always in the corner drinking tea or a milkshake when the others are fighting.

hates cucumber, any way it’s prepared.

He always beats John in every card or board game. when it’s more than 2 people playing, it doesn’t matter if Bob comes out on top, he always gets a higher score than John. They’re the two brothers who hate eachother.

watches cartoons to heal his inner child, doesn’t let anyone know.

>800 hours on minecraft

hard for him to accept gifts from others, even if it’s a bag of chips, he’ll say he doesn’t deserve it.

Ava

likes to jumpscare people by just appearing out of thin air. Steals everyones snacks because she can.

Ultimate gaslighter, especially towards Bob. shows him those ai videos of sad cat stories and obvious rage bate and he gets pissed about it.

loves halloween and horror movies (a menace on halloween night, especially to John who she would just stand in the hallway and stare menacingly at while in a clown costume or something)

has trouble sleeping. Bucky once found her on the floor of the training room at 3am

once passed out from overworking herself, woke up and found Bob sitting next to her watching over her like a big golden retriever.

Red Guardian

runs a tiktok account where he posts videos of the team (bonus, he puts filters on them and doesn’t tell)

will make the most heinous food combinations and swear they’re good.

hugs a little too tightly.

always gives a big dramatic speech before they go out, even if it’s just for coffee.

tells stories that are 90% lies, but everyone listens anyway.

John

acts as if he doesn’t care for the group, but gets worried if they don’t all text him back.

thinks he has a niche movie collection but it’s not neiche at all. horrible taste in movies (this one is very popular)

resident chef, along with Yelena.

the only one who has an actual schedule.

Gets really quiet after missions, especially if things went bad. Extremely self-critical even if it’s not apparent.

#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts #yelena belova #bucky barnes #robert reynolds #red guardian #bob thunderbolts #Ava starr #john walker #marvel #headcannons #marvel headcannons #thunderbolts headcannons #the new avengers #avengers headcanons

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lanadelspray02 · 8 hours ago

Text

HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 9

paige x azzi

warning: none

hey guys, surprise! I really hope y'all enjoy. I love love love this chapter. Please don't hate me :) let me know what your thoughts are please, maybe send a live reaction?

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

------------------------------------

Azzi didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she woke, the room was dim and still, tinged in early light — pale blue-grey spilling in through the slats of her blinds. The first thing she felt was weight: small and familiar. A soft heel nudged gently into her ribs. Tiny fingers were curled around the edge of Paige’s hoodie, still wrapped around her torso like a secret. She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Ruby had climbed into her bed sometime in the early morning. She always did, on nights when Azzi got home late — quiet, instinctual, like her daughter could sense when she needed to be close.

Azzi stayed still for a moment, watching the little curl of her daughter’s body nestled in the blankets. Bunny was wedged between them, slightly crooked, one ear bent the wrong way. Ruby’s curls were wild with sleep, lips parted, soft breaths rising and falling like ocean waves.

Then—

“Mama?”

Azzi blinked. Ruby didn’t move, just murmured the word like a question — not fully awake, but not fully gone either.

“I’m here, baby,” Azzi whispered.

Ruby opened her eyes a second later, lids heavy, and blinked up at her.

“You got home late,” she said.

Azzi smiled faintly. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

Azzi hesitated. “I was with a friend.”

Ruby sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. “Was it a fun friend?”

Azzi gave a soft breath of a laugh. “Yeah. She’s... fun.”

Ruby didn’t ask more. Just threw her arms up and flopped over dramatically. “I want toast.”

“You want toast?” Azzi echoed. “You didn’t even say good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Ruby mumbled into her pillow. “Now toast.”

Azzi grinned, rolled onto her side, and gave Ruby a playful nudge. “Let’s go, your highness.”

Ruby immediately clambered onto her back like it was tradition, bunny still clutched in one arm. Azzi stood up slowly, adjusting the weight of her daughter on her back as she made her way through the short hallway, each step softened by the creak of old floorboards.

The smell of butter and eggs greeted them before they even reached the lounge.

Her parents were already in the kitchen, the low hum of the radio mixing with the sizzle of scrambled eggs. Katie stood barefoot at the stove in her robe, stirring the pan with one hand and holding a steaming mug of tea in the other. Tim was buttering toast with exact precision at the counter, whistling under his breath like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Azzi paused just outside the threshold, Ruby still draped around her shoulders, and watched them for a moment — quiet, unnoticed.

There was something about the scene that caught in her throat.

Her dad, humming along to a song she couldn’t place. Her mom flipping a slice of sourdough like it was the most important task in the world. The way the morning light filtered in through the kitchen window and caught Ruby’s curls, turning them into a soft halo. Bunny dangling from her hand like he’d had a rough night.

Azzi closed her eyes for a second.

Sometimes, it hit her all at once — how much love existed in this tiny pocket of the world. How much it took to build something like this. How fragile it still felt.

Ruby squirmed slightly on her back.

“I smell eggs,” she whispered, half in awe.

Azzi smiled and stepped into the room. “One royal toast delivery incoming.”

Katie turned and smiled immediately, eyes creasing. “Well look who finally decided to join the land of the living.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” Tim added, offering Azzi a nod and Ruby a silly bow. “Princess Roo, you’re just in time.”

Azzi crouched down and let Ruby slide off her back onto the bench seat at the table, bunny in one hand, her little legs swinging off the edge. Katie plated eggs and toast without needing to ask and placed the plate in front of her granddaughter with quiet grace.

---------

Azzi moved slower than usual that morning, easing into the space at the corner of the table, still in Paige's hoodie and sleep-wrinkled leggings. She wrapped her hands around a cup of coffee and just sat for a moment — listening to the sounds of breakfast, of her dad teasing Ruby about finishing her toast, of her mom asking if she wanted jam or honey.

It felt... sacred. Not in a big, dramatic way.

But in the kind of way you almost miss when you're too busy moving through the world. The kind of way that makes you want to hold your breath and memorise everything — the smell, the sounds, the texture of a quiet morning wrapped in love.

Azzi glanced across the table.

Ruby was picking up toast with both hands, her face serious with the task, crumbs gathering at the corners of her mouth. Her curls bounced every time she shifted. Katie leaned down to wipe a bit of jam from her cheek, tucking a loose curl behind her ear with instinctual tenderness.

Azzi’s chest swelled.

Sometimes it hit her all over again — how much her parents loved Ruby. Not out of obligation. Not out of necessity. But fully, deeply, fiercely. Like Ruby belonged to them, too. Like there had never been any question.

She wasn’t just Azzi’s daughter.

She was theirs.

And that... that kind of love didn’t come around often.

Azzi looked down at her coffee, then back at her daughter.

Could someone like Paige ever feel that way?

Could someone who didn’t come from this — who didn’t know what it was like to build a life out of something unexpected — ever understand what it meant to love Ruby this much?

She didn’t have the answer. Not yet.

But the thought settled into her chest like a folded note, tucked away, waiting.

Ruby looked up, mouth full, and grinned. “Mama, you should make eggs like Grandma.”

Azzi laughed softly. “I’d be offended, but you’re probably right.”

Tim winked. “We’ll add it to the list of things she needs to learn.”

Azzi smiled — warm, quiet, a little wistful.

For now, this moment was enough.

-----------

Paige was awake long before the 7:00 a.m. alarm went off, lying there in the early grey light, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding too quickly for something as basic as a Saturday. But it wasn't a simple day. Not after last night.

She stretched under the covers, arm slung across her eyes, trying to breathe through the familiar swirl in her chest. Not nerves, not exactly—something softer. Restless. Hopeful in the kind of way that made her feel like she was standing too close to something she wasn’t supposed to touch.

Azzi had fallen asleep beside her. Head tilted against her shoulder. Breath warm. Fingers curled just barely beneath the blanket like she didn’t know whether to reach for Paige or not.

And Paige had just sat there, completely undone by it.

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t dared to. Because she didn’t want to break whatever it was — that weightless, still moment where everything felt like maybe it could be more.

Now, the silence in her dorm room felt hollow. Her blanket was twisted around her legs, her pillow half-off the bed. The air was stale. Still. Her hoodie — the one Azzi had worn home — wasn’t on the floor where she expected it to be.

Her stomach turned.

Azzi had taken it with her. She could picture Azzi walking around her own home in the comfort of her hoodie. Azzi wore it home. She hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t asked to keep it. She just... had. And Paige had let her.

Because part of her — a stupid, reckless part — liked the idea of Azzi sleeping in it.

Liked the idea of her waking up with it still wrapped around her.

Paige sat up slowly, dragging her hand over her face and through her hair. Picturing Azzi walking through the door last night. Crop top. Jean shorts. She looked like a dream Paige hadn’t earned the right to keep having. The way her smile had curled just a little at the corners. The way she’d leaned into the teasing, relaxed, real. The way she’d lingered at the door, hoodie draped around her like it belonged to her.

God, she looked so good.

Paige groaned and collapsed backward onto the mattress, arm flung dramatically across her face.

And then—

The door slammed open.

She startled upright.

“Good MORNING, my twin!” Nika’s voice rang out like a damn siren, smoothie in one hand and her phone in the other. “Are we doing a post-date debrief or are you still blacked out from emotional intimacy?”

Paige blinked. “You—what?”

Nika tossed her smoothie onto the desk and flopped onto Paige’s bed like she paid rent. "You look like someone played the ‘soft hands’ card and you folded instantly."Did she reject you or did you just combust when your pinkies touched?”

“She didn’t reject me,” Paige mumbled, shoving her face back into her pillow.

“So something happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Nika squinted. “Define ‘nothing.’”

Before Paige could respond, KK poked her head in with a bag of mini muffins and a chaotic energy level that belonged to someone who never needed caffeine. “Oh my god. Did she sleep over?!”

“No,” Paige said into the mattress.

Nika grinned. “But she stayed late, didn’t she?”

KK gasped and launched herself onto the other side of the bed. “Tell us everything. What movie? Did you touch knees? Who reached for the popcorn first? Did you kiss?!”

“We didn’t kiss,” Paige muttered.

“Liar,” KK said immediately.

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re glowing,” Nika added helpfully. “And your hair is doing that fluffed-up thing it does when you’ve been lying awake thinking about someone. This someone who you also happened to just have a date with last night”

Paige sat up and shoved them both with her feet. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Oh sure,” Nika said, tone full of mock sympathy. “You invited her over, lit a candle, made a custom snack spread, put on a movie, shared a blanket, and stared at her like she hung the stars. But it wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t!” Paige insisted, though her voice cracked near the end.

KK leaned in, grinning. “But it felt like one, didn’t it?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Because yeah. It had.

----------

After enduring all the playful teasing from Nika and KK about her so-called “date,” Paige was relieved when they finally left her room, their laughter echoing faintly down the hall. At last, some peace — and privacy.

Her phone sat face-down on the desk, untouched. She reached for it slowly, almost cautiously, like it might scorch her fingers the moment she turned it over.

No new notifications.

Azzi wasn’t really a morning texter.

Still, something tugged in her chest.

She unlocked it and opened their thread. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.

She typed:

Had fun last night. You looked really—

Backspaced.

Tried again:

Let’s hang out again? If you want?

Deleted it.

Finally, she landed on something simple. Easy.

But honest.

No pressure or anything, but I kinda wanna see you again.

She hit send before she could think too hard.

Then tossed the phone face-down on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

Out from the living room, Nika peeked her head through the gap of the opening of the door and said, “Did you just throw your phone like it told you your crush died?”

“She texted her!” KK whispered loudly, nudging Nika with her elbow.

Nika leaned over and smirked. “You wanna go get brunch or sit here refreshing your screen for three hours?”

“Shut up,” Paige groaned.

KK tossed a muffin at her. “You’re in love.”

“I’m not in love.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Yet.”

They both cackled as they left the room once again, closing the door with dramatic flair.

Paige sat there in the quiet again, heart still racing.

She turned the phone over one more time. No reply.

But she hadn’t expected one right away.

Azzi wasn’t someone who rushed anything.

And Paige wasn’t sure if she wanted her to — not really. Because if this was going to happen, if it was ever going to be real... she wanted it to mean something.

She laid back down again and stared at the ceiling.

Wondered if Azzi was thinking about her too.

Wondered if she felt the same pull — the same ache in her chest.

Wondered if she was falling, the way Paige was.

Quickly.

Quietly.

All at once.

---------

Azzi didn’t want to be here.

Her legs were sore from too many hours on hardwood. Her head ached from too little sleep. And weekend practices were the worst kind — not just because they cut into time that could be spent curled up with Ruby or hiding from responsibility under her blanket, but because they stretched. Long. Loud. Endless.

Still, she showed up.

Hair scraped back into a loose bun, wisps already escaping around her temples. Training tank sticking lightly to her spine. Black shorts riding higher than she liked, the elastic catching her skin in a way she didn’t have the energy to fix. Her duffel bag slung low over one shoulder.

She pushed open the gym doors and squinted against the sharp white lights overhead. The echo of sneakers and shouts bounced off the rafters like static.

And then she saw her.

Paige was already stretching near the far wall, one leg extended, the other bent as she leaned forward over her knee — calm, composed, laser-focused. Her hair was pulled half-up, her expression unreadable, and for a second, Azzi told herself to keep walking.

But Paige looked up.

Their eyes met across the gym.

And something in Azzi’s chest stalled.

It wasn’t anything dramatic — just a beat. Just a moment where neither of them looked away. Where something settled in the space between them: a memory from the night before, a trace of what might’ve happened if Azzi hadn’t left.

Paige’s gaze dropped first.

Azzi exhaled and made her way to the baseline.

Warm-ups passed in a blur. They were slotted into the same drill line — not by choice, just the rhythm of routine. Pass, cut, shoot. Rebound, rotate.

Neither said a word.

Azzi kept her focus tight, hands crisp, footwork clean. Paige did the same — but every so often, she could feel her near. The heat of her just off to the side. The echo of that voice from last night still humming in her ears.

--------

Water break came like a breath of mercy.

Azzi peeled off to the side, grabbing her water bottle and dropping her duffel bag beside her with a quiet thud. She hesitated only a second before unzipping it.

Paige’s hoodie lay folded on top — soft and worn and still smelling faintly like vanilla and laundry detergent.

She picked it up carefully, almost reverently, and walked across the gym.

Paige was facing the sideline, towel looped around her neck, brows knit in thought. When she noticed Azzi approaching, she straightened just slightly, the tiniest flicker of tension crossing her face.

Azzi stopped a step in front of her and held the hoodie out with both hands.

“I washed it,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “Didn’t want to... just keep it.”

Paige stared at her for a beat too long.

Then reached out and took it, their fingers brushing.

“You didn’t have to give it back,” she said softly.

Azzi offered the faintest smile. One that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Then turned and walked away without another word.

She joined Caroline, Ines, Amari, and Aaliyah near the bleachers, sliding easily into their chaotic circle of chatter — half-laughing, half-listening, grateful for the noise, for the distraction, for something to do with her hands.

Paige watched her go.

Still holding the hoodie in both hands.

Still feeling the ghost of Azzi’s fingers against her skin.

Practice resumed. This time, the drills ramped up — fast-break scrimmage segments, three-on-two scenarios. Paige threw herself into it, jaw tight, feet quick. Every time Azzi cut across her vision, it rattled something in her chest.

“You good?” Nika asked as they subbed out briefly.

“Fine,” Paige said automatically.

“Because you’re playing like you saw your soulmate and forgot how to function.”

KK jogged up from the baseline and caught the end of that sentence. “Oh my God, did Azzi give you your hoodie back?!”

Nika grinned. “She did. I saw it.”

KK gasped dramatically and nearly tripped over her own feet. “You got a hoodie return?! That’s like... emotional third base.”

Paige flushed. “It’s just laundry.”

“Sure it is,” Nika said, deadpan. “And KK studies for the fun of it.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“I bet she looked good in your hoodie though” KK added winking at Paige and then casually, glancing toward Azzi, who was now joking with Aaliyah over Gatorade flavors. “Crop top. Smirk. Return-the-hoodie energy.”

“She always looks good,” Paige muttered before she could stop herself.

Nika’s eyebrows shot up. “Ohhhh. So we’re admitting things now.”

Paige straightened, defensive. “It wasn’t a date.”

KK made a face. “Bueckers. C’mon.”

Nika elbowed her. “Listen. It’s the weekend. You clearly like her. She’s clearly not running. Why don’t you just—ask her out?”

“I—” Paige hesitated.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” KK asked. “She says no? You end up hanging with us at Ted’s and pretend your heart didn’t shatter? That’s what mimosas are for.”

“I don’t know if she’s... ready,” Paige said softly, barely audible.

Nika’s teasing softened. “Then ask in a way that lets her say yes or no without pressure.”

Paige looked back across the court.

Azzi was mid-laugh, one hand pushing Ines away, the other cradling her water bottle like it held more than hydration — like it grounded her.

Paige felt her chest twist again.

Because every time she looked at her, it was harder not to fall.

Harder not to hope.

Harder not to wonder if maybe — just maybe — Azzi was feeling the exact same thing.

------

Practice ended the way it always did — sweaty, breathless, chaotic. Sneakers squeaked in uneven rhythms, and the sound of laughter bounced off the high-gloss gym walls as everyone scattered toward the locker room or toward water bottles that had long since gone lukewarm.

Paige stood at the three-point line, hands on her hips, watching Azzi from the corner of her eye.

She was already heading toward the exit, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, curls pulled into a messy high bun, the tail of her tank clinging to the curve of her back. She moved fast — not quite like she was in a rush, but like she had somewhere she wanted to be.

And for once, Paige wanted that somewhere to be with her.

She hesitated — just a breath, just long enough to feel the fear creep in — and then she jogged forward before her nerves could catch up.

“Azzi,” she called out, just loud enough.

Azzi stopped and turned, a little surprised. “You good?”

Paige slowed as she caught up, brushing a hand back through her hair. She was still a little out of breath, but it wasn’t from the sprints.

“I didn’t want to let you leave without...” She trailed off, then smiled, lopsided and nervous. “Without asking.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable. “Asking what?”

Paige ran a hand down her neck, her voice going soft, almost careful. “If you wanna hang out again. Today. Or tonight. Just us. No basketball. No... pressure. Just something dumb. Fun.”

Azzi blinked. “Like a date?”

The question hung between them.

Paige swallowed. “Yeah. If you want it to be.”

Azzi looked down, lips pressing together — not in rejection, but like she was holding something back.

And then, she raised an eyebrow. “What’d you have in mind? Candlelight dinner? Rooftop picnic?”

Paige gave a soft laugh, relieved to feel the teasing tone in Azzi’s voice. “I was actually thinking... arcade.”

That caught Azzi off guard. “Arcade?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, voice loosening. “Someplace loud and dumb with broken air hockey tables and overpriced slushies. No expectations. Just—fun. Act like kids. Forget everything for a few hours.”

Azzi studied her for a second. Paige could practically feel the judgment — not cruel, but amused.

Then Azzi shrugged one shoulder, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. “That’s cute.”

Paige smiled sheepishly. “That a yes?”

Azzi let the silence stretch, like she was enjoying letting Paige squirm just a little. Then finally, with a shake of her head and a grin that wasn’t really teasing at all, she said, “Okay. Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Paige exhaled, like she’d been holding her breath for years.

“I’ll pick you up tonight at 6?”

Azzi smirked. “Do you even remember my address?”

Paige’s cheeks flushed. “I have it saved in my notes.”

“Oh and we are definitely making this a competition.”

“Deal,” Paige said instantly.

There was a pause, quiet but full — not awkward, just charged. Then Paige stepped forward and gave Azzi a quick hug. Not too tight, not too long. Just enough.

Azzi leaned into it, barely.

When they pulled back, Paige grinned, heart thudding hard behind her ribs.

“See you tonight.”

Azzi nodded, biting back her smile. “Don’t be late.”

Paige just arrived back at her dorm dropping her duffel bag and flopping face-first onto her bed like her legs had stopped working.

Everything hurt. Her face hurt from smiling.

She rolled onto her back, hoodie still bunched in one hand, and grabbed her phone.

She didn’t overthink it this time.

Paige → Nika:

thank you.

The reply came ten seconds later.

Nika:

you’re welcome for the amazing advice twin.

—---------

Azzi’s bedroom looked like it had been ransacked by two different hurricanes — one made of indecision, the other named Ruby.

Clothes were everywhere — jeans draped over the desk chair, crop tops tangled with socks, a sports bra somehow clinging to the corner of her lamp. Her full-length mirror was streaked from hasty makeup touch-ups and toddler handprints. On the floor, a scattering of rainbow blocks had formed a tiny minefield, the kind Azzi only realized when she stepped on one barefoot.

And in the middle of it all stood Ruby, proudly wearing mismatched socks, one of Azzi’s scrunchies around her wrist, and a glittery tutu over her leggings — the same tutu she'd worn to daycare three days in a row.

“I got dwessed!” Ruby declared, spinning so fast she almost toppled into the dresser.

Azzi, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her duffel bag, gave her a tired but fond smile. “You’re not even coming with me, baby.”

Ruby froze mid-spin, sticking her lower lip out. “Wanna come.”

Azzi sighed, dragging a pair of jeans out of the bag and holding them up against herself. “Not tonight, Roo. I’ll be home before bedtime, I promise”

“Who pickin’ you up?” Ruby asked, plopping onto the bed and bouncing until one of Azzi’s hoodies fell onto the floor.

Azzi hesitated.

She kept her voice light. “Just a friend, baby.”

Ruby tilted her head like a puppy, squinting. “The smile one?”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

Ruby grinned, her little fingers pulling at a loose thread on the blanket. “The one you smile ‘bout. Last night. You was smilin’.”

Azzi opened her mouth — and then closed it again. Her heart did something sharp and tender all at once.

She got to her feet, stepped over a discarded pair of shoes, and crouched in front of Ruby. “You’re too smart, you know that?”

Ruby nodded sagely. “Yup.”

Azzi scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “You’re trouble.”

“I’m cuuuute,” Ruby sang, squishing Azzi’s face between her tiny hands.

Azzi laughed despite herself and carried her over to the mirror, trying to focus. She had roughly forty-five minutes to get dressed, clean up, and mentally prepare herself for a night that already had her heart thudding in her chest.

And she hadn’t even picked an outfit.

Ten minutes later, she stood barefoot in front of the mirror, holding up two completely opposite vibes.

In one hand: a long-sleeved black crop top and fitted high-waisted jeans. It was a little bold. A little risky. It hugged her waist and made her feel something close to powerful.

In the other: oversized Huskies hoodie and leggings. Comfortable. Familiar. Like a shield.

Ruby stood at her feet, trying to wrangle one of her shoes onto her bunny.

“Which one?” Azzi asked, glancing down.

Ruby looked up, eyes wide. “That one,” she said, pointing at the crop top. “You look pwetty.”

Azzi arched a brow. “I look what?”

“Pwettier than Mama Shark,” Ruby said seriously, like there was no higher compliment.

Azzi burst out laughing just as Katie walked past the doorway and paused, taking the scene in.

“You’re glowing,” her mom said, arms crossed and knowing.

Azzi groaned. “Not you too.”

Katie smirked. “I’m just saying. Maybe dressing like someone worth noticing is about to show up.”

“I’m just going to hang out,” Azzi said weakly.

“Mmhmm.”

Before she could mount a defense, Ruby pointed at the hoodie. “Too big. No dressin’ big.”

Katie raised her hands. “Well, that’s settled.”

And that was how it started.

Within minutes, Ruby was clapping and cheering while Azzi strutted awkwardly around the room in her two outfit options. Katie offered “helpful” commentary — too formal, too hot, too ‘first date of The Bachelor’ — until all three of them agreed on the long-sleeved crop top and jeans.

“Cute but casual,” Katie said. “Like you didn’t spend twenty minutes crying about your options.”

“I didn’t cry,” Azzi muttered.

Katie gave her a look. “Okay.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the warmth of it settled deep.

Ruby beamed up at her. “You look happy.”

Azzi blinked, heart catching. She reached down and pulled Ruby close, holding her tiny body against her chest.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

“Love you too,” Ruby mumbled, already distracted by the sparkly scrunchie she was trying to put on her foot.

Katie stepped forward, brushing Azzi’s hair behind her ear the way she had since Azzi was little. Her voice softened.

“You know you don’t have to apologize for being a mum and a person, right?”

Azzi nodded, throat tight.

“It’s okay to want this,” Katie said. “It doesn’t make you selfish. It makes you human.”

Azzi didn’t answer, just wrapped her arms tighter around Ruby and nodded again.

After the impromptu fashion show and a chaotic ten minutes of cleaning up building blocks, Azzi found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, alone now, Ruby busy in the lounge with Katie. She held one of Ruby’s softest toys — a lavender elephant with only one eye — and stared at her reflection.

The room was quiet, finally. But inside her chest, it was anything but.

She loved this house. This life. The rhythm of bedtime stories and sticky fingers and early mornings where she could barely keep her eyes open.

She loved Ruby with a kind of ferocity she’d never known before motherhood — a kind of love that made her brave and scared in equal measure.

And this place — this home — was where Ruby was safest. Where she was held and understood.

Azzi had never let anyone into it. Not fully. Not since.

So how could she let someone like Paige in — someone who burned so bright, who laughed so loud, who made Azzi feel like she was 17 again and anything was possible?

Would Paige even want this part of her?

Would she stay?

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter around the stuffed elephant. Her chest ached with hope and fear braided too closely to tell apart.

But then — unbidden — she thought of last night.

Of the look Paige had given her on the couch, half-hidden under the blanket. Gentle. Curious. Safe.

Azzi let herself breathe.

Maybe — just maybe — that look had meant more than she was letting herself believe.

“Azzi!” Katie’s voice rang from down the hall. “Car just pulled in!”

Azzi jumped, heart in her throat.

She scrambled to the mirror, checked her hair — twisted a curl, fixed her crop top— and took one last breath.

In the lounge, Ruby was pressed to the window, little palms on the glass.

“She here!” Ruby squealed. “She walkin’!”

Azzi smiled despite the panic hammering in her chest. She rushed over, dropped to her knees, and kissed Ruby all over her face — soft and fast — until Ruby squealed with laughter.

“Mama!” she giggled. “You squishin’ me!”

“You’re the squishiest,” Azzi said, squeezing her one last time.

“Be back,” Ruby said, serious. “Soon?”

“Soon,” Azzi promised. “You be good for Grandma and Poppy.”

“Kay Mum.”

She stood just as the knock echoed on the door — but Paige never got to knock twice.

Azzi was already there, heart pounding.

She opened it.

And there she was.

---------

Paige stood just outside, in olive cargo pants, a white crop top, and a cardigan falling open over her shoulders. Her hair was loose around her face, and she looked nervous — hands jammed in her pockets, mouth twitching like she was about to say something and forgot how.

“Hey,” Azzi said, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind her.

Paige stared for a moment.

“Hey,” she finally breathed. “You look—”

She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to.

Azzi smiled. “Let’s go.”

The car ride started quiet.

Not awkward, not tense — just soft. Muted. Like both of them were still adjusting to the fact that they were doing this once again. No basketball. No teammates. Just… each other.

Paige had opened the passenger door for her again, of course. Told her she looked beautiful like it slipped out before she could stop it. Azzi had blushed, tried to laugh it off, and mumbled something about Paige’s cardigan and how she “cleaned up okay.”

Now they were in Paige’s car, winding through streets lit gold by the sinking sun, windows cracked, the summer air curling gently through the cabin. Azzi had one arm resting against the window, the other tucked in her lap, fingers playing absently with the rings on her fingers. Paige drove with one hand on the wheel and one resting near the gearshift, thumb tapping to the beat of the playlist.

And then it happened.

The soft strum of Daniel Caesar’s “Hold Me Down” slid in through the speakers.

Paige’s hand froze.

Azzi turned her head slowly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Is this…?”

Paige cleared her throat. “What?”

Azzi raised a brow. “You sang this at Ted’s. On the mic. The same night you were pretending not to look at me during the chorus.”

Paige’s ears turned pink. “I wasn’t—”

“You so were.”

“I mean… it’s a good song,” Paige said, eyes firmly on the road.

“Uh-huh.”

Azzi’s tone was playful now, her earlier nerves melting just slightly. “So you did mean it then?”

Paige risked a glance sideways. Azzi was staring at her, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“I didn’t not mean it,” Paige muttered.

Azzi’s heart jumped.

Paige wasn’t joking. Not entirely.

“That’s bold,” Azzi said softly.

Paige smirked. “You wore that crop top on purpose.”

Azzi looked out the window to hide her smile. “Maybe.”

Paige swallowed. Her grip on the wheel tightened slightly.

They fell quiet again, but the song filled the space between them — thick with memory. Azzi remembered being in that crowd, drink in hand, heart stupid and full in her chest as Paige’s voice floated through the room, low and sure. Her eyes had found Azzi halfway through the second verse and never really left.

It had meant something. Even back then.

Now it felt heavier. Realer. Scarier.

Paige pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, easing into a spot near the front.

Neither of them moved at first.

“You ready to destroy me at every game in there?” Paige asked, her voice lighter again — teasing, but laced with something else.

Azzi turned to her, a little breathless. “Only if you promise not to cry about it.”

Paige smiled — slow, easy — and then opened her door.

Azzi followed, her legs a little shaky as she stepped out.

The arcade lights glowed through the windows. Inside was noise and color and the promise of something simple.

But out here, between them, it wasn’t simple at all.

And neither of them wanted it to be.

—--

The arcade was loud the second they stepped in — not the kind of deafening chaos that made you want to turn around and leave, but a kind of nostalgic, childlike noise that wrapped itself around them instantly. Neon lights blinked from every corner, the air smelled faintly of greasy popcorn and static electricity, and the clatter of tokens and laughter rose above the beat of some old Top 40 track echoing from outdated speakers overhead.

Paige held the door open and let Azzi walk through first. She couldn’t help it — her eyes traced the curve of Azzi’s back, the swing of her that hung loose, the way her crop top rode just slightly up when she lifted her arms to adjust her sleeve. Paige’s hand twitched by her side, resisting the urge to reach out and—

“Wow,” Azzi said, voice half-awed, half-amused as she looked around. “This place is exactly as chaotic as I remember.”

Paige grinned. “Right? Time capsule of pure childhood chaos.”

They stood at the counter to buy tokens, Azzi nudging her hip against Paige’s when she tried to sneak her card in first.

“I’m paying,” Azzi said.

“You’re not,” Paige replied smoothly, already swiping. “Winner buys slushies. That’s the rule.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Confident, huh?”

“Extremely,” Paige said, holding out half the tokens like a peace offering. “Unless you’re scared.”

“Not even a little.”

She snatched them from Paige’s palm with a smirk and sauntered off toward the first game — a brightly lit shooting range with plastic guns and overly dramatic sound effects.

Paige trailed behind her, pulse skittering.

They started with the gun game — standing side by side, holding neon rifles too big for the screens they were shooting at. Azzi lined up her shot like she was back in the gym, elbows sharp, eye narrowed. Paige, on the other hand, was pure chaos — jerking the trigger like it owed her money.

“Are you even aiming?” Azzi asked, biting back a laugh.

“I’m vibing,” Paige declared, missing three zombies in a row.

Azzi shot them all with ruthless precision. “You’re dying.”

“I’m dying with style,” Paige countered.

Azzi snorted — actually snorted — and that alone made Paige forget what wave of enemies they were on. It was that laugh again. That laugh Paige had been thinking about since movie night.

When the game ended, Azzi’s score blinked triumphantly in neon yellow. Paige’s was… not close.

“Winner buys slushies,” Azzi said sweetly, already walking away.

Paige followed, laughing. “You’re lucky I’m easily charmed.”

Next up: the racing games.

They slid into the red-and-blue plastic seats, side by side, gripping worn steering wheels as engines revved on-screen. Paige picked a flashy sports car with manuel gears. Azzi, predictably, picked the flashy automatic car — sleek, fast, overpowered.

Halfway through the race, Paige started veering into Azzi’s lane, bumping her slightly just to get a reaction.

“Hey!” Azzi shoved her shoulder back, nearly knocking Paige’s elbow off the console.

“Strategic aggression,” Paige said, grinning.

“You’re gonna crash.”

“Already did,” Paige replied. “Emotionally.”

Azzi burst out laughing, the sound spilling out of her so easily now — open and unguarded. Paige looked at her out of the corner of her eye, heart tightening. She looked so damn good when she laughed. Bright. Free.

Azzi won again, of course.

But Paige didn’t mind, not if it meant she got to keep seeing Azzi’s smile.

Then came the air hockey table — where everything devolved.

The first round was close. The second was war. Azzi was ruthless, grinning as she slapped the puck toward Paige’s side with surgical accuracy.

“Okay, calm down, Serena Williams,” Paige huffed, retrieving the puck again.

Azzi didn’t miss a beat. “Wrong sport.”

“Same energy.”

Paige finally scored after three straight losses and threw her arms in the air like she’d won the championship.

Azzi leaned on her side of the table, eyes sparkling. “That was pity defense. I’m being nice.”

“Lies,” Paige said, pointing the mallet at her. “That was pure skill.”

“Delusion,” Azzi muttered, grabbing the puck back with a grin.

Paige smiled too, but hers lingered a little longer.

She kept watching Azzi — the way her cheeks flushed when she was mid-game, the way her laugh came easier with each round. There was something about the way Azzi was moving now — more relaxed, more herself. Paige could feel it shift in the air between them, like the weight Azzi always carried was softening around the edges.

And God, Paige wanted to touch her.

Just… brush her hand. Her cheek. Something.

The air hockey puck spun off the table and skidded across the floor, narrowly missing a small child’s foot. Azzi bent over, breathless with laughter, and Paige leaned against the side of the table like she’d just played in the Final Four.

“I’m filing a formal protest,” Paige declared.

Azzi shot her a look. “You’ve lost five games in a row.”

“I’m a late bloomer.”

“You’re a sore loser.”

Paige grinned, eyes bright. “And yet you still hang out with me. Curious.”

Azzi tried to roll her eyes but failed — mostly because Paige looked so damn proud of herself, standing there in her crop top and that cardigan that shouldn’t have been attractive but somehow was. It hung loosely over her frame, the sleeves pushed up, revealing the lean line of her arms. Azzi caught herself staring.

God, get it together, she thought, shaking her head.

Paige nudged her. “Come on. Next station.”

Dance Dance Revolution.

It was barely functional — one of the arrows didn’t light up — but Paige still dragged Azzi over like it was the crown jewel of the arcade.

“No chance you beat me at this,” she said, stepping up confidently.

Azzi stood beside her, arms folded. “You’re about to embarrass yourself.”

The song started — some hyper pop track that didn’t seem to have a decent beat. Paige immediately lost all coordination. Meanwhile, Azzi started hitting the steps with smooth precision, body swaying effortlessly with each movement.

By halfway through the track, a small crowd of middle schoolers had gathered to cheer her on.

Paige, panting and two steps behind, gave her a look mid-spin. “What the hell—are you secretly a dance major?”

Azzi didn’t even look at her. “Just rhythm.”

Paige nearly tripped. Azzi didn’t stop smiling.

When the song ended and Azzi hit the final pose, Paige threw up her hands dramatically. “I have never felt more betrayed.”

Azzi leaned in close, voice a little breathy, a little smug. “You picked the game.”

Paige blinked. “You’re terrifying.”

Azzi laughed and tugged her toward the next machine.

Skee-Ball.

“Now this,” Paige said, “is where I reclaim my dignity.”

“You sound very confident for someone who just tripped over an arrow.”

Paige scooped up the first ball and lined up her shot with exaggerated focus. She rolled it — and completely missed the center ring.

Azzi barely tried and hit the 50-point pocket on her first throw.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Paige said.

“I’m just good at things,” Azzi replied innocently.

They went back and forth, Paige making jokes about muscle memory and Azzi pretending not to aim — until one of Paige’s throws rebounded and landed in the 100 slot. She whooped so loud that two kids turned and stared.

“That’s it,” she said, pumping her fist. “I’m retiring a champion.”

Azzi laughed so hard she leaned into her — just a little. But enough for Paige to feel the brush of her arm, the heat through the thin fabric of her cardigan. Paige didn’t move away. Neither did Azzi.

Basketball Pop-a-Shot.

It wasn’t even a question who would win.

They each took a hoop, the countdown starting overhead.

Three. Two. One.

Azzi was fast, efficient, laser-focused. Paige, on the other hand, was all flash — leaning back, flicking her wrist, launching dramatic high-arc shots that somehow kept going in.

By the end of the round, Paige had more points.

“Ha!” she yelled, tossing her last ball in the air. “Finally.”

Azzi looked genuinely surprised. “You… won?”

“By three. And I will be insufferable about it forever.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling — wide and bright. Her cheeks were flushed, strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Paige looked at her, heart skipping.

“I like you like this,” she said before she could stop herself.

Azzi blinked. “Like what?”

Paige swallowed. “Relaxed. Happy.”

Azzi looked down. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. “I like me like this too. It’s rare.”

Paige gave Azzi’s hand a tug. “Come on, let’s get our slushies. Looks like I’m paying—lucky you.”

Azzi laughed “Don’t blame luck just ’cause I beat you at everything but the basketball game. Face it — I’ve got skills and you now owe me a slushie”

They stood there in the arcade buzz — light and noise around them, but something slower humming underneath.

Paige reached for her slushie. “You want a break?”

Azzi nodded, still smiling. “Yeah. Let’s sit.”

They took their slushies and drifted toward a bench near the back of the arcade, where the lights weren’t quite as aggressive and the speakers buzzed just a little quieter.

Azzi flopped down first, sipping through her straw with a tired sigh. “I forgot how much cardio this place is.”

Paige dropped beside her, their shoulders brushing for a second before she leaned back against the wall. “You say that like you didn’t annihilate me in every game.”

Azzi smiled around her straw. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’ll just carry this humiliation for the rest of my life.”

She meant it as a joke — but her eyes lingered a second too long, soft and full. The kind of look that made Azzi’s heart stutter, even though she was trying not to show it.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Just sipping. Breathing.

Then Azzi asked, “You go to arcades a lot as a kid?”

Paige shrugged, twisting the straw in her cup. “Not really. Not with family, anyway. But yeah… birthday parties, team stuff. I always liked it. You?”

Azzi nodded. “My brothers loved places like this. Loud, messy, always some kind of sugar high happening.”

“Big family vibes?”

Azzi hesitated for a second, then nodded again. “Yeah. Loud house. Lots of opinions. Not a lot of alone time.”

Paige grinned. “Opposite for me. I grew up with my dad and stepmum, mostly. My little brother Drew was the only consistent chaos. The rest… kind of shifted a lot.”

Azzi glanced sideways at her, watching her fingers turn the cup slowly in her hands. “That hard?”

Paige was quiet for a second, then said, “Sometimes. I think I just learned to be the easy one. The one who didn’t need much.”

Azzi’s brows drew together, heart aching just a little.

“You’re not that now,” she said gently.

Paige looked over, startled. “What?”

“You’re not the easy one. Not here. Not with me.”

Paige blinked, like she didn’t quite know what to do with that.

Then she smiled — slowly. “Good.”

A beat passed.

Then Paige said, softer, “My mum called yesterday. Told me she and Ryan and Lauren are coming to our game Friday night.”

Azzi looked at her in surprise. “Oh, wow. That’s a big deal, right?”

Paige made a face. “Kind of. I mean, she barely ever comes. And when she does… it just messes with my head.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Why?”

Paige sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I always feel like I’ve got something to prove. Like I need to be perfect for her to notice. And when she’s watching, I can’t stop thinking about everything I’m doing wrong. I get anxious. Stiff. It’s like I forget how to just… play.”

Azzi watched her for a moment, heart tugging. “Paige…”

Paige offered a small, humorless smile. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Azzi said. “That sounds really hard.”

Paige took a long sip of her slushie and shrugged again. “I just hate feeling like I’m never enough. Like whatever I do, it won’t matter.”

Azzi shifted closer, until their thighs were nearly touching. She reached down and tapped her knee against Paige’s. “You are enough.”

Paige met her eyes.

“I mean it,” Azzi added. “And not just because you finally beat me at basketball pop-a-shot.”

Paige laughed, the sound small but real.

“I’m serious,” Azzi said. “You’re smart, and kind, and driven. You care about people. You make me feel seen.” Her voice dropped, sincere. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not her.”

Something in Paige’s face cracked, just slightly — the edge of a wall softening. She exhaled, eyes still locked with Azzi’s. “How do you always know what to say?”

Azzi smiled gently. “Because I’ve been there too.”

Paige didn’t say anything to that. She just looked at her, heart in her throat, and reached over without thinking — brushing her pinkie softly against Azzi’s.

It felt like the quietest promise in the world.

Azzi reached down and nudged Paige’s sneaker with her own trying to turn the moment back into playful banter. “So… you always this competitive?”

Paige’s face lit back up. “Only when I like the person I’m playing against.”

Azzi blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. “You’re not subtle.”

“I’m very subtle,” Paige said. “That’s why I’m leaning halfway into you right now and pretending it’s for warmth.”

Azzi just laughed. “Come on let's go find something else we can play”

–

They were walking past the claw machines when Paige stopped suddenly, tugged by instinct.

A unicorn plush stared at them from behind the glass — big-eyed, purple, glitter-horn. It was hideous. And perfect.

Azzi tilted her head. “What.”

Paige pointed. “I’m winning that for you.”

Azzi raised a brow. “That thing?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll never get it.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

Azzi watched with arms crossed and a smirk as Paige began her slow descent into the claw machine void.

First attempt: the claw missed completely.

Second: it picked the unicorn up and dropped it halfway.

Third: total failure.

Azzi was snickering by the fourth try. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” Paige said, eyes locked. “I’m committed.”

On about the twelfth attempt, the claw actually gripped the unicorn and didn’t let go. It dragged it over the edge, wobbled — and then dropped it into the chute.

Paige grabbed it with a grin of pure triumph and held it out to her.

“For you.”

Azzi stared at it. Then at Paige.

Then she took it — slowly — and hugged it to her chest like it meant something. Maybe it did.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

“You like it,” Paige said, voice softer now. Less teasing. “Admit it.”

Azzi met her eyes. And didn’t deny it.

Azzi noticed a photo booth tucked into the back corner of the arcade — half-hidden behind a stack of the outdated Dance Dance Revolution machines and a soft drink machine that made alarming noises.

“Come on,” Azzi said, nudging Paige with her elbow. “Let’s make something for your dorm wall.”

“After you,” she said, voice low. Sliding the curtain across.

Azzi gave her a look, half-eye roll, half-teasing smile, but stepped in anyway. Paige followed, and the moment she sat down, the space shrank. Not just physically — emotionally. Their knees touched. Shoulders brushed. The curtain fell closed behind them like it was sealing them in.

“Okay,” Paige said, jamming the tokens into the slot. “Rules?”

Azzi arched a brow. “There are rules?”

“Obviously. One funny face, one nice one, one serious… and one wildcard.”

Azzi grinned. “Define wildcard.”

Paige met her gaze. “Surprise me.”

The countdown on the screen lit up.

Three. Two. One.

First shot: Azzi scrunched up her nose and bared her teeth in an exaggerated growl, while Paige stuck out her tongue with wide, crossed eyes. They burst out laughing.

Second shot: They leaned together automatically — smiling, bright, natural. Azzi’s hair fell against Paige’s shoulder.

Paige barely breathed.

Third shot: Paige turned toward Azzi just as the flash went off — catching her mid-glance, eyes wide, unsure.

Fourth shot: Azzi looked at Paige.

And didn’t look away.

The screen blinked its countdown again, but neither moved. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as the light flickered across Azzi’s skin. She watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the curve of her mouth, the way her lips parted just slightly like she was about to say something but didn’t.

Their faces were inches apart. Close enough to feel the warmth between them. Close enough that Paige could see the flutter of Azzi’s lashes.

Azzi’s hand moved — barely. Just enough to brush against Paige’s.

Paige tilted her head.

Azzi leaned in — slowly, cautiously — like she was still deciding. Her eyes dropped to Paige’s mouth. Paige’s heart was thundering so loud she was sure Azzi could feel it.

She wanted to kiss her. God, she wanted to.

And Paige wasn’t pulling back.

The space between them narrowed.

Azzi’s breath hitched. Their noses nearly touched.

But then—

Azzi flinched. It wasn’t big. Just enough to break the spell.

She blinked rapidly, sat back too fast. “I— I need air.”

Paige blinked, dazed. “Azzi?”

But Azzi was already ducking out of the booth, the curtain swinging wildly in her wake.

Paige sat there, stunned, heart still caught in her throat.

On instinct, she grabbed the strip of printed photos as it slid out of the machine — catching that last frame: Azzi leaning in, looking at paige. The moment they didn’t finish.

She shoved it into her pocket and ran after Azzi

—---

Azzi stood beside the car, back turned, one hand braced against the roof like she was trying not to fall over. Her breath came quick and shallow. She hadn’t meant to run. But something in her chest had screamed not yet, not like this, not when she doesn’t know.

Paige approached quietly, photos still clenched in her hand. She didn’t say anything — just walked to the passenger side and opened the door for her again.

Azzi turned, eyes wet, expression unreadable.

Paige didn’t ask.

She didn’t press.

She just waited.

And then, without a word, she climbed into the driver's seat beside her — both of them facing forward, not touching, the silence thick between them.

The plush unicorn was still tucked under Azzi’s arm.

The photo strip burned in Paige’s pocket.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

But everything between them had.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #pazzi #paige x azzi #wlw

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