#so I can actually write it once I have time
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bucketofdeltav · 2 days ago
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I fundamentally agree with you but I wish to share a different angle on that fundamental agreement.
I am also the autism, and raised by an English Lit teacher (and an engineer whose draft reports were the household scrap paper bin, so I had good examples of both literary and technical writing available from very young).
No I don't know exactly what a character's face is doing when the author says 'their eyes darkened'. I also don't, like, care, if I'm reading for pleasure. Like I recognize the emotional state that's being conveyed by the phrase, which is the core information that actually matters here, and when I'm reading I don't have to interpret human facial expressions in real time to get that information, because it's like. Right there. What is this character feeling right now. For bonus points, how does this affect what they're going to do or say next?
I've been told it's really easy to see when I'm reading Star Wars stories specifically (and sometimes which one I'm reading) because I 'try on' the characters' faces with my own face wayyyy more than with other genres, and that's because the canon novelizations go really hard on facial expressions (and Force aura which is fundamentally just a different kind of facial expression and one real people don't actually have, except when they do) because they're very explicitly referring back to film media, where facial expression is a major way of conveying a lot of emotional information at once. I really like the RotS novelization because it's very clearly timestampable to a specific film and I can go check 'what that figure of speech looks like on a human face'.
Hello yes I learned to read human emotion largely from Star Wars this explains a lot about me actually.
I can't remember where I was going with this. Wide range of human experience good. Understanding that not everyone is going to approach your writing in the same way also good.
I’m so sorry but in the nicest way possible do yall actually read books or just read words??? Cause I’ve been seeing that trend of people not understanding how “snarled” and “eyes darkened” and “eyes softened” etc. was used in a book and like…
Genuinely, do yall just not have imagination?? Or not understand figurative language??? Also eyes do literally darken and soften have you not lived a life??? How do you read with no imagination? Is this how you get through so many books in one month - you simply don’t take the time the understand the words as they are read?
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pbaz7 · 15 hours ago
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FLIGHT 2136: PART 4
paige x azzi
warning: sexual content
word count: 8.6k
A/N: This really somehow turned into a serious lmao. God bless ✈️ anon. I’m thoroughly enjoying writing this one and I’m excited to see where I can take it next. Anything specific people wanna see?? Leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼
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After that night their conversations become effortless and automatic. What was once occasional text over a span of a few days here and there now turned into good morning messages, updates throughout the day, and late-night conversations that stretched longer than either of them intended.
Azzi quickly learned that Paige wasn’t actually that bad of a texter–when she wanted to be. It just took a little extra effort. Sometimes, though, she still slipped up, forgetting to reply for hours. When that happened, Azzi would call her, barely waiting for Paige to pick up before saying, “Text me back, genius.”
Paige would mumble out a sheepish, “My bad,” rubbing her eyes. But then, everytime without fail, she’d add, “You look pretty today,” her voice turning soft.
Azzi would roll her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile before hanging up.
A few seconds after hanging up, Azzi’s phone would buzz with notifications from Paige—each one carefully addressing everything Azzi had mentioned. It was clear Paige was paying attention, making sure to answer everything, even if it was something small like, "I just got Dairy Queen!" or "I found that song you were talking about."
The Facetimes, once a source of mild resistance from Paige, quickly became something she didn't mind at all. She didn’t grumble about how she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, Paige would simply answer and just prop her phone up and go about whatever random task she was doing, talking with Azzi as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Whether it was shooting in the gym, organizing her room, or just lounging around, Paige would keep the conversation light, letting Azzi watch her move through the motions of her day. And even on days where Paige wasn’t the most animated during their calls, a little spaced out, Azzi could still hear the underlying affection in her voice when she did say something—the way her words were always just a little softer compared to when she talked to everyone else, a little more personal.
Azzi found herself completely captivated by how Paige’s personality started to shine through in their everyday conversations. At first, Paige had always come across as a bit reserved, quiet, especially when surrounded by others–and honestly she still was. But in their moments alone, whether it was through text or FaceTime, Paige’s true colors began to emerge. Azzi had never expected her to be this way–honestly. Paige was a little obnoxious at times, cracking jokes that made Azzi laugh out loud, even when she tried to keep a straight face. Paige could be playful and sarcastic, the type to tease Azzi for the tiniest things, but it was never mean-spirited. It was endearing.
But what Azzi adored most was how gentle and observant Paige was. It was like she had a way of noticing the smallest details, even when she didn’t say anything about them. Whether it was how Azzi would get distracted by the simplests things, or how she picked up on subtle changes in Azzi’s mood, Paige seemed to have this innate ability to read between the lines.
The way these traits blended together–Paige being confident that was borderline cocky at times, a little obnoxious, funny, yet so thoughtful and perceptive–shouldn’t have worked as well as they did, but it was perfect. It was her. And Azzi was starting to realize just how much she loved it. There was something about Paige’s complexity, the contradictions of her personality that made her unique. With every conversation, every little moment, Azzi found herself falling for Paige Bueckers.
Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi. Maybe it had been the night after the USC game, when she sat there in the hotel room, unraveling a part of herself she had never shared with anyone before. When she told Azzi about the accident—some of the details, the conflict she felt all the time, the way she had spent so long resenting the world for what happened but thanking God that it wasn’t worse. And instead of offering empty words or hollow reassurances, Azzi just was—solid, there asking Paige what she needed instead of offering up what she thought she needed to hear. Somehow, within seconds of laying it all out, Azzi had brought her peace. A kind of peace Paige hadn’t even known she was searching for with a simple story about cutting her little brother's hair.
Or maybe it was in the hallway that same night. When she admitted she’d miss Azzi, the words feeling heavier than they should’ve. And Azzi, instead of overcomplicating it, just pulled her in, giving her something to hold onto, a quiet reassurance.
But then sometimes Paige thinks it was the next morning. When Paige, still groggy, had opened her door to find Azzi standing there in full UConn gear, clearly about to leave the hotel. Paige had barely mumbled out a good morning before Azzi stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world and handed Paige a coffee, as if she knew that the blonde didn’t sleep much that night.
So yeah, Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi Fudd. But she knew that she had and she knew it happened when she was in California. She knew that she liked how Azzi made her feel. How Azzi made the world seem a little brighter. Like sunshine and rainbows as Paige would often sarcastically say when Azzi told her to cheer up.
Right now Azzi was lying in her bed, her phone propped up against her pillow as she absentmindedly toyed with the drawstring of her hoodie. Paige, on the other hand, was sitting at her desk, hunched over doing—well, Azzi wasn’t sure what exactly.
Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen. "So, how was your LSU visit?"
Paige snorted, not even looking up. "It was alright."
Azzi raised a brow. "Alright? So… no?"
Paige finally glanced at her phone, looking at Azzi before smiling a little saying, "Not my vibe, is all."
Azzi smirked, shifting onto her side. "I feel like you say that about every team except UConn."
Paige leaned back in her chair, smirking right back. "Maybe I said it about UConn too. I just wouldn’t tell you."
Azzi’s jaw dropped at this. "That’s rude."
Paige just shrugged, clearly unbothered as she went back to whatever she was doing at her desk.
Azzi squinted at her. "What are you doing over there?"
Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair again, throwing her pencil down on the desk. "I’m trying to do a sudoku."
Azzi snorted. "Why?"
Paige shrugged again.
Azzi’s lips curled into an amused grin as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Since when do you do sudoku?"
Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face before resting her chin in her palm. "Since today. And probably not after today."
Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Let me see."
Paige picked up her phone and angled it toward her desk. The screen showed a sudoku puzzle that looked… well, disastrous. Numbers were scratched out at the bottom, some squares had been filled in and erased multiple times, and at least one spot had what looked like a tiny doodle in the corner.
Azzi covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. "Oh my God."
Paige rolled her eyes but smirked. "Okay, mathlete. Relax."
Azzi grinned. "Do you even know the rules?"
"Yes, I know the rules," Paige said. "I just don’t know why there are so many numbers."
Azzi blinked. "Paige… that’s literally the point of sudoku."
Paige let out a deep sigh, tilting her head back. "See? This is why I don’t try new things. I need to just stick to dribbling a basketball."
Azzi hummed. "What’s got you trying new things, then?"
Paige shrugged as she pushed back from her desk and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Azzi watched as the hem of Paige’s shirt lifted, revealing parts of her toned stomach. She hadn’t meant to stare, but—okay, maybe she had a little.
Paige smirked, catching the way Azzi’s gaze lingered. She picked up her phone, bringing it closer to her face. "You’re a pervert."
Azzi scoffed. "I literally didn’t even do anything." But there was a slight smile on her lips, giving her away.
Paige dropped back onto her bed, lying on her side with one arm propped under her head. "You didn’t have to," she mumbled, eyes locked onto Azzi’s through the screen.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, shifting onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. "Oh? So now I’m just guilty by association?"
Paige’s smile deepened. "More so guilty by intention but sure."
Azzi let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You’re actually the worst sometimes."
Paige tilted her head. "Am I really?"
Azzi caught the shift in tone, the playfulness turning into something a little more intentional. She pressed her lips together, debating for a second before deciding—fuck it.
"Mhm," Azzi hummed, trailing a finger along the edge of her phone as she watched Paige closely. "But I think you like it that way."
Paige licked her lips, her gaze flickering over Azzi’s face. "Maybe."
Azzi bit her lip, her voice turning softer. "You’re a little smug for someone who just got roasted over sudoku."
Paige grinned. "Mmm course I am, look at how you’re lookin at me."
Azzi exhaled a short laugh. "You’re so annoying."
Paige’s smirk didn’t waver as she said, “No I’m not."
Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way her cheeks warmed. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"I could give you a few ideas."
Azzi blinked, her breath catching just slightly. Paige was really pushing it now.
She swallowed, tilting her head. "Oh yeah?"
Paige nodded, her fingers idly playing with the ring she always wore on her finger. "Mhm. But I think you already know."
Azzi let out a slow breath as she shifted. "You sure you can handle me?"
Paige huffed out a chuckle as she licked her lips. "I think I already showed you I can handle you just fine, Azzi."
Azzi exhaled sharply, her stomach flipping at how Paige was looking at her through the screen—like she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how she was making her feel.
Azzi bit her lip, her voice softer now. "I miss you."
Paige’s expression softened just slightly, but then, before Azzi could get too caught up in the moment, Paige smirked again. "You’re just horny."
Azzi’s eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock. "Paige!"
Paige just chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. "What? Am I wrong?"
Azzi narrowed her eyes, though the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re disgusting."
Paige propped herself up on her elbow, tilting her head as she studied Azzi through the screen. "I’m just saying… you’re looking at me like you want something."
Azzi huffed, shifting onto her back as she threw an arm over her face for a second before peeking at Paige again. "And what if I do?"
"Then I guess I’d have to do something about it next time I see you."
God, Azzi wished she hadn’t asked that question because now she was warm and uncomfortable, and the worst part was—she knew Paige knew. The way she was chuckling on the other side of the screen, made Azzi squirm even more.
Azzi groaned. "Paige, please."
Paige hummed, all teasing. "Hm?"
Azzi hesitated, debating whether she was really about to ask for help with her… situation, but before she could get the words out, there was a knock on Paige’s door.
Paige’s head moved toward it, her smirk fading slightly. "Yeah?"
The door creaked open, and Drew peeked inside. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"
Paige’s expression shifted instantly—her playfulness replaced with something softer, more serious. She sat up, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah, course." She scooted over on her bed, making space for him near the wall.
Reaching for her phone, she looked down at the screen, her gaze apologetic. "I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’ll text you in a sec."
Azzi shook her head, completely understanding. "Don’t apologize."
Paige gave her a small, grateful smile before they both hung up, leaving Azzi lying there, staring at the ceiling—still warm, still uncomfortable, and now, very much alone with the feelings.
Or at least she thought she was alone—until her phone buzzed a few times.
Azzi grabbed it from beside her, her brows raising slightly when she saw Paige’s name on the screen. She unlocked her phone, and the second she saw what Paige had sent, she felt her stomach tighten.
The pictures weren’t anything too overly suggestive, but they were enough.
Some were mirror selfies—Paige’s sweats low on her hips, her stomach on display, a sports bra the only thing covering her top half. Others were clearly taken after being in the gym, her skin still slightly flushed, her hair damp, the definition in her arms pronounced.
Azzi chuckled when she got to the last one—a hand pic.
All the pictures were followed by a message. "Get yourself right."
Another buzz. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I got you next time."
Azzi exhaled sharply, her entire body warm, her face buried in her pillow as she groaned.
Somehow, even when she wasn’t physically there, Paige still had her in a chokehold.
Still, Azzi followed directions. She sighed, shifting against her sheets, wishing—aching—that it was Paige’s hand instead of her own.
Back in Minnesota Paige lay still beside Drew, both of them staring up at the ceiling, their arms thrown behind their heads in near identical positions as they laid in silence for a few minutes. It was almost uncanny how much they looked alike when you really looked at them, their features reflecting off one another from the dim glow of Paige’s bedside lamp. Drew had gotten older, taller, but in moments like these, Paige was reminded that he was still her little brother—the same kid who used to follow her around with wide eyes, hanging onto every word she said.
The silence stretched between them, Paige figuring Drew was just taking a while to fall asleep. Then, Drew said something.
“That girl you’re always talking to,” he started, his voice quiet but still confident, like Paige had taught him.
Paige turned her head slightly, already knowing where this was going. “Her name’s Azzi,” she corrected, a small smirk playing on her lips.
Drew hummed in acknowledgment. “Is Azzi the reason you’re leaving?”
Paige blinked, caught off guard for a split second before she turned her head to look at him. She studied him for a moment, the way his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her answer. With a sigh she said, “You know how when you were younger and we always talked about you coming to my games when I got to the league?” she asked.
Drew simply nodded.
Paige exhaled, glancing back up at the ceiling. “That can’t happen if I stay where I’m at now.”
Drew was silent for a moment before he mumbled, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”
Paige let out a quiet chuckle. “You and Dad are moving to the DMV. I’ll be one call away, I swear.”
Drew turned his head, watching her carefully before he finally asked, “So you’re going to UConn?”
A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go to UConn.”
Drew studied her for another moment, then asked, “Have you told them yet?”
Paige sighed, shaking her head. “No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
Paige turned her head to look at him again, a different kind of warmth settling in her chest. She smirked slightly before answering. “I gotta tell Azzi first.”
Drew’s lips twitched into a grin as he turned onto his side, finally facing the wall to go to sleep. But not before adding, “You like her, huh?”
Paige rolled her eyes, but the smirk never left her lips. “Man, shut up. You’re supposed to be in here going to bed.”
Drew just laughed as he pulled the cover over his head to go to sleep.
Paige grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her fingers lingering over it for a moment before unlocking the screen. She chuckled softly when she saw a message from Azzi sent just three minutes ago. The message was simple, just a “Thank you.” Paige huffed out a quiet laugh when she saw the period.
She quickly typed out a response, her fingers moving without hesitation: Yup. After a brief pause, she added one more message, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she typed: Goodnight beautiful.
She read it over once more, her heart skipping just a little at the words before she locked her phone and set it back on the table. Paige turned off the light and settled into bed, pulling the covers up over her.
She stayed still for a while, her hands tucked behind her head, staring out the window that was across from her bed. The sudden quietness of the room seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through her mind, each one more tangled than the last.
She couldn't help but think of Drew, her little brother, and the way he'd come crawling into her bed tonight, like he’d done so many times before–seeking comfort from the chaos of his own thoughts. Her heart ached just thinking about it. She’d been around for every significant moment of his life, his constant lifeline, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving him behind, even if it was for the right reasons.
But then, as if the universe was constantly reminding her of the duality of her life, another thought would emerge: the weight of her future, the pressure to fulfill a dream she’d been chasing since she could walk. She wanted to go back to the notoriety she used to have, not because of the attention it gave her, but because of what came with it—the ability to give her family the life they deserved, to give back. To provide for Drew, her dad, her mom.
Paige sighed softly, her body sinking deeper into the mattress, as she tried to will her mind to quiet for just a moment so she could fall asleep. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the thoughts kept coming. She knew it would take time, a lot of effort, and maybe even more sacrifice to make everything fall into place. But for tonight, she just wanted a break from the weight of it all. Just a few minutes of peace. She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath as she tried to empty her mind, willing herself to relax.
It wasn’t long before another thought slipped into her head—Azzi. This time, instead of adding weight, like everything else, it brought a sense of comfort. Azzi wasn’t like anyone else in Paige’s life. Thinking about Azzi didn’t tighten her chest or add more confusion to her already overwhelming thoughts. When her mind drifted to Azzi, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Because she knew Azzi didn’t expect anything from her. Azzi wasn’t asking Paige to be anyone but herself—she didn’t have any preconceived notions about who Paige used to be. The girl on the other end of those late-night Facetimes only knew Paige from what she’d shared. The thoughts she had were based on the present, not some past version of Paige.
That was the thing that should've terrified Paige. She wasn’t used to feeling so... seen, without the weight of what others thought she should be or the pressure of always having to do the right thing. Azzi didn’t ask for any of that. The simplicity of their connection, how natural it felt, should have sent her running in the opposite direction, a voice in the back of her mind telling her it was too easy, too comfortable for the kind of world they lived in. They hadn’t even had a serious conversation about what they were or what they had going on—and yet, Paige didn’t worry about it.
She should’ve been terrified of how she felt about Azzi already–it had only been a few months. But for some reason, anytime she thought about her, the only thing Paige felt was calmness. She rarely thought about it if she was being honest. It just felt right. Everything about Azzi felt... right. Like the pieces of her life, of their connection, were meant to fall into place in the way they had.
As Paige lay there, still, her mind slowing down for the first time that night she couldn’t help but smile a little. The thought of being around Azzi all the time, physically being with her instead of having to hear her voice through a phone. Being able to physically touch her. It all seemed too good to be true, but Paige didn’t worry about that—she thought just maybe that the universe was finally repaying her.
Third Person POV - March 2024
After taking a shower Paige sat on the edge of her hotel bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face as she idly scrolled, waiting. The room itself was silent, but Paige’s mind was buzzing with anticipation. She knew it was only a matter of time before Azzi texted her or called. It always happened that way after games.
She leaned back against the pillows, letting out a slow breath as she glanced at the time. UConn had won their Sweet Sixteen game against Duke earlier that night, and unknowingly to Azzi, Paige had been there to witness it. She had come down with her dad and Drew, who hadn’t seen UConn play in person yet. The three of them had seats in the stands, and while it felt strange watching from far, Paige loved the experience.
Her dad and Drew were sharing a room down the hall, while she had her own. Now, alone in her room, Paige found herself sitting, waiting—because she knew Azzi would reach out. Azzi never let too much time pass without talking to her.
Right on cue, her phone buzzed. “You up?”
Paige chuckled to herself, shaking her head before typing out a response.
Paige 💗You a 16-year-old boy now?
Azzi’s reply came almost immediately.
Azzi <3 Lol I’ll take that as a yes
Paige smirked, stretching one of her arms over her head before texting back.
Paige 💗I was waiting on you
Azzi <3 Oh yeah?
Paige💗Yeah.
The typing bubbles appeared for a moment before disappearing, and then suddenly, Paige’s screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Her smirk deepened as she swiped to answer, settling back against the pillows.
When the call connected, all Paige could see was the bathroom ceiling, but she could hear Azzi’s voice.
"Why are you always flirting with me?"
Paige laughed. "Cause you like it."
"No, I don’t," Azzi shot back, but there was no real conviction behind her words—it was clearly a lie.
Paige raised an eyebrow, playing along. "No?"
"No," Azzi repeated, but Paige could hear the slight waver in her voice.
Paige chuckled. "Why not?"
There was a pause before Azzi mumbled, "Because all it does is make me sexually frustrated."
Paige smirked at that, biting her lip before saying, "Lemme fix that for you, then."
"Paige, please," Azzi groaned, still off-screen.
Paige chuckled. "Please what?"
"I really can’t handle that today," Azzi muttered. "I won’t be alone for the next week, and I already feel like I’m about to explode."
Paige hummed, amused at Azzi’s frustration. "That’s not a problem."
She heard Azzi groan again, making her chuckle. "Azzi, come to the camera."
There was a beat of silence, then a soft shuffle. A few seconds later, Azzi finally appeared with a towel wrapped around her, clearly fresh out of the shower.
"Where are you?" she asked, scanning Paige’s unfamiliar background.
Paige tilted her head slightly. "My hotel room."
Azzi's expression was filled with confusion. "What? You’re done with visits."
Paige grinned. "That’s what I been tryna tell you." Then, more sincerely, she added, "You played great today, by the way."
Azzi smiled at the compliment before quickly piecing together what Paige was saying. "Wait—you’re here? In Portland?"
Paige simply nodded, watching as realization dawned on Azzi’s face. A grin spread as soon as the realization sank in.
"What room are you in?" she asked, her voice carrying an excitement that wasn’t there before.
"617," Paige answered smoothly.
Azzi didn’t hesitate. "I’ll be down there soon."
Paige hummed in response as Azzi hung up the phone.
A few minutes later a sharp knock at the door shocked Paige a little, but she didn’t hesitate when she got up to answer it. She swung it open without even checking the peephole, already knowing exactly who was on the other side.
Before she could fully take in Azzi’s appearance—her damp hair, the cropped shirt she must’ve thrown on in a hurry—Azzi rushed forward, crashing their lips together.
The kiss from Azzi is urgent and unrestrained. Paige stumbles back a little, her hands instinctively gripping Azzi’s waist as she pulls her in, making sure neither of them lose their balance. The door swings shut behind them with a loud thud, the only sound in the room now is their heavy breaths as they press closer to one another.
Azzi’s hands find Paige’s jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, while Paige steadies them both, her fingers slipping beneath the loose cropped shirt Azzi has on. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing—just unspoken longing spilling over now that they’re finally in the same place again.
After what feels like an eternity of them standing there, Azzi pulls back just enough to whisper against Paige’s lips, “You really didn’t think to tell me you were here?”
Paige smirks, her hands still on Azzi’s waist. “Figured a surprise was more fun.”
Azzi huffs out a small laugh before tugging Paige back in, shaking her head as she mumbles, “You’re ridiculous.” But she doesn’t seem to think so when Paige’s tongue slides in her mouth.
They move together, stumbling but somehow in sync, until they reach the foot of the bed. Despite how frantic it seems, Paige is careful—guiding them, making sure Azzi doesn’t trip over anything in her rush. They stay standing at the foot of the bed for a moment, lost in one another, lips moving, hands exploring like they’re memorizing the feeling of each other.
Then Azzi pulls back just enough, her fingers slipping under the hem of Paige’s shirt. Paige lifts her arms, letting Azzi tug it over her head. The second it’s gone, Azzi discards her own shirt and doesn’t waste another moment before pulling her back in, her lips crashing into Paige’s.
Paige chuckles against her mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur, “Baby, slow down—” her hands find Azzi’s waist, thumbs smoothing over her skin as she whispers, “Lemme see you.”
Azzi, still a little dazed, blinks at Paige and murmurs, “What did you just call me?”
Paige chuckles, shaking her head as she tries to play it off. “Nothing,” she says casually. “I said, lemme see you.”
Azzi doesn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she lowers herself onto the bed, looking up at Paige through her eyelashes, the corners of her lips tugging up just slightly.
Paige exhales, rolling her eyes playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” She steps closer, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s chin, her touch impossibly gentle despite the tension crackling between them.
Azzi tilts her head, feigning innocence. “Like what?”
Paige groans, her fingers curling under Azzi’s chin as she mutters, “Like that.”
Azzi just blinks up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Paige exhales sharply, shaking her head as she steps back. “You know what you’re doing,” she mutters, turning away.
Azzi simply shrugs. “Maybe.”
She watches as Paige leans against the desk across from the bed. Azzi takes her in, letting her gaze roam—Paige’s hair pulled back in a loose bun, her diamond earrings catching the light, the black shorts sitting on her hips, paired with a black Nike sports bra. And then there’s her cross necklace, resting just above her chest.
Azzi smirks. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Paige lifts an eyebrow, silently challenging the question. Like what?
Azzi shakes her head, her smile deepening. “Come here.”
Paige pushes off the desk and walks over, looking at Azzi the entire time. The moment she’s close enough, Azzi reaches for her necklace, curling her fingers around it as she gives a gentle tug, pulling Paige down toward her on the bed.
Paige hovers over Azzi, smiling down at her, amusement flickering in her eyes. Azzi meets her gaze, fingers still curled around the necklace. She gives it another tug, just enough to bring Paige down to her level, and their lips meet again—this one is slower, more intimate, as if they’re finally allowing themselves to just exist in this moment.
There’s no urgency, no frantic need to make up for lost time.
Paige starts to pull away, but Azzi’s fingers tighten around the chain, keeping her close. Their lips reconnect, and Paige can’t help but smile into it, letting out a soft chuckle at Azzi’s persistence. Azzi hums against her mouth, clearly pleased with herself, and Paige deepens the kiss for just a second longer before murmuring against her lips, “So this is how it is, huh?”
Azzi hums in response, deepening the kiss, and Paige lets her, letting herself sink into the warmth of it as Azzi’s fingers stay wrapped around her necklace, keeping her close, as if she’s afraid Paige will disappear if she lets go.
After a while, both of their lips are raw when Paige pulls back just enough to murmur, “I gotta tell you something.”
Azzi doesn’t release her immediately, stealing a few more kisses before finally loosening her grip on the chain. Paige smirks at the reluctance before pulling back slightly, still hovering over Azzi.
Azzi tilts her head, her fingers fully undoing Paige’s bun that she messed up. “What?”
Paige exhales softly, then says it as casually as if she’s commenting on the weather. “I’m coming to UConn.”
Azzi blinks up at her, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”
Paige chuckles, brushing a loose curl from Azzi’s face. “I’m transferring to UConn.”
The grin that spreads across Azzi’s face is instant and huge, her excitement practically radiating off of her. Without thinking, she wraps her arms around Paige and pulls her into a hug, the force of it making Paige collapse onto her with a laugh.
Azzi holds on tight, her face buried in Paige’s shoulder, her voice muffled as she says, “Are you serious?”
Paige just laughs again, wrapping her arms around Azzi in return. "Yeah. I'm serious."
Azzi pulls back slightly, looking at Paige with surprise. "When did you tell Geno?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.
Paige shrugs. "I haven't yet. I wanted to tell you first."
Azzi’s expression softens, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You wanted to tell me first?"
Paige nods, her gaze softening as she meets Azzi’s eyes. "Yeah."
Azzi smirks, leaning up slightly. "Aww, that’s sweet."
Paige rolls her eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Alright, shut up," she mumbles, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.
Azzi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment. "I’m just saying. It’s cute."
Paige exhales a quiet laugh, rolling her eyes as she mutters, "Whatever," before leaning back down to kiss Azzi.
This time, the kiss is slower, deeper—Paige’s weight pressing into Azzi completely as their lips move in sync. Azzi feels the warmth of Paige’s body against hers, the way Paige’s knee slides in between her legs. She lets herself sink into it, her hands finding their way to Paige’s sides, fingers curling against her skin as she pulls her closer.
The moment is so consuming that it takes a second before Azzi realizes where her hands are—right over the scar. The very place Paige had once pulled her away from, tensing at her touch.
Azzi stills, her breath hitching as she pulls back slightly, ready to apologize, but before she can say a word, she notices that Paige hasn’t moved away.
She’s still there, still hovering over her, her blue eyes looking a little shocked but still soft as they search Azzi’s face. There’s a little hesitation in her eyes but no discomfort—then slowly just a quiet acceptance.
Azzi barely has time to process it before Paige leans back down, capturing her lips in another kiss, deeper this time. It’s slow and almost calculated, as if Paige is telling her without words that it’s okay. That she wants this. That she wants her. At this, Azzi flips them over, her movements instinctual, and suddenly, she’s the one hovering over Paige. Paige lets out a quiet breath of surprise, her blue eyes flickering with something unreadable—something Azzi has come to know all too well.
Azzi doesn’t give her time to think too much. She dips down, trailing her lips along the sharp curve of Paige’s jaw, then lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Paige licks her lips at the feeling, willing her body to relax beneath Azzi’s as she sighs slightly, her fingers brushing along Azzi’s back.
Azzi smiles against Paige’s chest, taking her time, savoring every second of this—of Paige letting her in, letting her touch her like this. She feels Paige shift slightly beneath her again, feels Paige pulling her closer, and the small action makes something warm bloom in Azzi’s chest.
So she keeps going, kissing down the column of Paige’s throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath her lips, feeling the way Paige’s breath hitches every time she lingers just a second too long.
Paige couldn’t help but sigh at how soft Azzi’s lips felt against her throat, how warm and steady she felt hovering over her. It was effortless—the way Azzi moved, the way she kissed her, like she had all the time in the world. She was making sure to kiss every part of Paige’s neck, every inch of exposed skin, trailing lower with no rush, no hesitation.
Both of them had a soft appreciation for this moment. For Azzi, it was about memorizing Paige like this—unworried by the outside world, just them, just this. And for Paige, it was about allowing herself to let go, even if just for a little while.
She knew, from all their late-night FaceTime calls, that Azzi understood her in a way not many people did. Azzi knew that Paige didn’t like giving up control—that it wasn’t in her nature, that her brain basically screamed at her when she wasn’t in control of something. She knew that Paige always had to be the one holding the reins, the one dictating the pace, the one leading.
But right now, Paige wasn’t doing that.
Right now, she was letting Azzi take the lead. She was willing herself to trust the girl hovering above her. And the way Azzi handled her, with such care and patience, made it feel easier than she thought it would be.
Azzi watches Paige closely as she trails lower, her lips brushing over her skin, her hands smoothing over Paige’s sides. When she glances up, all she sees is Paige with her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. She smiles at the sight, at the trust Paige is giving her, and then she dips back down, kissing every inch of her stomach with the same patience she had when she started.
But when she reaches the scar, she hesitates. Because it’s a tricky thing—she can’t ignore this part of Paige, wouldn’t want to, but she also knows it’s sensitive, both physically and emotionally.
So, she starts slowly. A soft kiss. She feels Paige’s stomach tense slightly beneath her, the smallest shift, but she doesn’t tell her to stop.
So she places another kiss. Then another. Azzi takes her time, shifting her lips along every part of the scar, not missing an inch. She even moves to Paige’s side, making sure to trail her kisses as far as she can.
When she finally looks up, Paige’s eyes are open now, watching Azzi’s every move.
Then, Paige’s hand moves.
Azzi stills when she feels the gentle brush of Paige’s thumb against her cheek. She leans into it instinctively, closing her eyes for a brief second before looking back at her.
Paige is watching her, something unreadable in her expression, but there’s absolutely no hesitation in the way she touches her.
Azzi turns her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Paige’s palm before murmuring, “You okay?”
Paige nods. “Yeah.”
Azzi’s smile is soft as she moves back up, her lips finding Paige’s. As their mouths move together, her hand drifts lower, sliding easily into Paige’s shorts where she runs her fingers against Paige. The touch is barely there, but it pulls a reaction from Paige immediately—a low, involuntary sound escaping her lips.
Azzi chuckles, pulling back just enough to murmur, “You good?”
Paige nods, her breath a little uneven. “Mhm,” she manages, but then Azzi is sliding into Paige, settling completely before she’s pulling them out again agonizingly slow. Paige’s eyelids flutter as she exhales shakily, her voice coming out softer now, more like a whisper. “That feels good…”
Azzi smiles against her lips, happy with the effect she’s having on her. So she keeps the slow pace going, feeling the way Paige subtly arches into each time she curls her fingers. After some time, when she feels Paige getting a little more urgent in her movements, Azzi pulls away from the kiss. Creating just enough space between them to take in Paige’s face fully. To see her reactions.
Paige opens her eyes to look up at her, blue eyes heavy, but locked onto Azzi’s with an intensity that makes Azzi’s breath catch. There’s something about the way she’s looking at her—like she’s completely lost in her.
Azzi’s voice is quiet as she whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Paige swallows hard at that, something deep in her chest tightening, like she might explode under the weight of those words. Her fingers flex against Azzi’s back as she struggles to find a response, but the truth is, she doesn’t need to say anything—Azzi already knows.
The way Azzi is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters in the world—makes her heart pound faster. Feeling Azzi move in and out of her almost perfectly, sends a warmth spreading through Paige’s entire body. She feels overwhelmed, not just by the sensation but by the way Azzi is completely focused on her, on every reaction she’s having.
Paige swallows, her throat suddenly dry. “Azzi…” she whispers out, not even sure what she wants to say.
Azzi just smiles, dipping her head down to brush her lips against Paige’s again. “I mean it,” she whispers against her mouth. “You’re so beautiful Paige.”
Paige exhales shakily, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s back, like she needs to hold onto something solid to keep herself from falling apart completely. “…Shut up,” she finally mumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.
Azzi raises her eyebrows, surprised by this response. But then she’s smiling because Paige’s blue eyes are completely hazy, her chest is rising and falling quicker now, her body reacting in ways she’s clearly struggling to control as she throws her head back against the pillow.
“Fuck— I’m sorry, I just—” Paige starts, but she can’t finish, her voice becoming unsteady. Azzi just chuckles, continuing her pace but adding a little pressure as she slides her knee in between Paige’s legs.
“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures her, keeping her voice gentle. “I know.”
But Paige’s breathing only stutters more, her body tense beneath Azzi. Azzi lowers her head near Paige’s ear. “Relax, baby.”
Paige takes a sharp inhale at hearing Azzi whisper in her ear, her fingers gripping Azzi’s arm tightly. Still, she listens—taking a deep unsteady breath, forcing herself to settle.
Azzi kisses the corner of her jaw, feeling the tension in Paige’s body start to unravel beneath her. “That’s it,” she whispers, dragging her lips along Paige’s skin as she speeds up her movements.
Paige swallows hard. “Azzi I—”
“Sshhh,” Azzi soothes, as she adjusts so she has more room to keep her pace. “I know.”
And then Paige is tensing under her all over again.
Paige’s words come out choked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can…I can’t…it’s—”
Azzi lifts her head, “Look at me,” she murmurs.
Paige forces her eyes open, her eyelids are low and her eyes are unfocused as they lock onto Azzi’s. Once their eyes lock Azzi slows her pace again, curling her fingers perfectly every time she moves. Making sure Paige feels her.
“Just relax for me,” Azzi whispers.
Paige swallows, nodding once, never breaking eye contact as she takes another deep breath. As soon as she does that it hits—her body trembling, breath hitching, fingers tightening against Azzi’s back.
Azzi leans down, immediately taking Paige’s lips in her own, swallowing every shaky breath, every quiet whimper, every moan, until Paige finally starts to settle beneath her.
Before Azzi even knows what’s happening, Paige is flipping them over. When she does this, she’s a lot more feverish than Azzi was, her lips trailing down Azzi’s jaw, sucking and nipping along the way, like she can’t get enough of her.
Azzi, already worked up just from watching Paige, takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Fuck Paige—”
Paige hums against her skin, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s body.
Azzi exhales shakily. “I really can’t wait. It’s been too long.”
Paige lifts her head, her pupils dilated, she nods once before leaning back down, sealing her lips over Azzi’s again.
Paige easily slides her hand into Azzi’s pajama shorts and groans when there’s no other barrier and she immediately feels how ready Azzi is for her. Paige whispers out, “Fuck baby, why you didn’t tell me.” Before Azzi can respond Paige is easily sliding her fingers into Azzi.
As soon as Paige does this, Azzi’s breath hitches, and she mumbles, “Oh god.” Paige smirks, feeling the heat radiating from Azzi’s body as she easily takes her in.
Azzi, already feeling the tug in her stomach, grabs Paige’s waist and pulls her closer, the weight of Paige on top of her having Azzi closing her eyes in relief. She runs her hands up and down Paige’s back, her breath growing shallow. “I miss you so much,” Azzi murmurs.
Paige leans down to kiss her. “I miss you, too pretty girl,” she replies softly.
Azzi exhales a quiet, needy sound at the nickname, she wraps her arms tightly around Paige’s shoulders and hooks her legs around Paige’s waist, using the leverage to pull her closer. A low groan escapes her lips as Paige presses deeper into her, her fingers tangling into Paige’s hair seeking any piece of her she can get.
A few moments later, Azzi’s phone rings from the nightstand, popping the bubble they created. The first time, Azzi ignores it, her attention completely on the way Paige is making her feel, but then it rings again. Again, she ignores it, letting Paige continue, her hands never leaving Paige’s head, but when it rings a third time, Azzi can’t ignore it anymore.
With a deep sigh, she reaches over to grab the phone, still breathing unevenly from the way Paige feels inside of her. She glances at the screen and sees Caroline’s name flashing.
Azzi sighs again, this time louder, her chest tightening. Paige, noticing the change, starts to shift off of her, but Azzi grabs her, shaking her head, “No… don’t,” she says softly, pushing Paige’s head into her neck. Paige is a little surprised at this but she complies with what Azzi wants as she starts placing open mouth kisses to Azzi’s neck, curling her fingers as she does it.
Reluctantly, Azzi answers the phone, her voice completely breathy as she says, “Yes, Caroline?”
Caroline’s voice comes through the phone. “You have 15 minutes.” And before Azzi can respond, Caroline hangs up, already knowing exactly what Azzi is doing.
Azzi throws her phone somewhere and immediately pulls Paige back into a kiss, this time more urgent. Both of them are aware of the time slipping away, and the need to be close is almost overwhelming.
Paige, knowing what she needs to do to speed the process up for Azzi, adjusts so she can use her thumb adding slow soft circles to the mix as she continues to curl her fingers.
It doesn’t take long for Azzi’s body to shake under Paige’s touch, her breath coming in shallow bursts as her hands tighten around Paige. She tries to speak, but the words don’t come out clearly, her chest heaving with every shaky exhale.
“P-Paige…Yes—” she stammers, struggling to find her voice as Paige’s continues to work in and out of her, drawing another tremor from her. “Fuck—” Her hands find Paige’s back, trying to pull her impossibly closer, her fingers digging into her skin as she gasps. “I… want you... so much...”
Azzi’s words slip into a breathless murmur, almost incoherent. Paige slows her rhythm as she helps Azzi ride out the sensation, her smile growing as she watches her.
“You have me,” Paige whispers, pressing her forehead to Azzi’s as they both savor the moment.
They stay just like that for a second, both of them breathing deeply, still feeling the weight of each other. There’s a quiet, unspoken understanding between them as they both lay there, hearts still racing in sync.
Paige breaks the silence with a soft murmur, “You gotta go.”
Azzi exhales slowly, her body still warm beneath Paige’s, but the words don’t seem to make her move just yet. She pulls Paige closer instead, pressing a kiss to her lips before she mumbles, “I know.”
Even as she says it, Azzi’s hands tangle in Paige’s hair, and the kiss turns more urgent. The heat between them grows again, their lips moving together perfectly, tasting each other in a way that seems to say they’re not ready to let go, not yet.
But eventually, Azzi pulls away, her chest rising and falling. She gives Paige one last lingering look before she’s tapping her to stand up. Once Paige rolls off of her, Azzi stands, stretching and crossing the room to grab Paige’s discarded shirt from the floor, easily slipping it over her head.
Paige smirks, her eyes following Azzi’s every movement, and as she stands up from the bed she says. “Look at you, putting on my shirt. Ms. ‘Don’t get used to it.’”
Azzi rolls her eyes, as she slips her Uggs back on. Paige mirrors the move, grabbing her phone and keycard, ready to walk Azzi upstairs.
Azzi’s voice breaks the quiet. “You’re not going to put on a shirt?”
Paige laughs, glancing down at herself. “You kinda sorta stole mine.”
Azzi laughs softly, nodding. “Fair enough.” She watches as Paige glances at herself in the mirror, her jaw tightening just slightly before she looks toward Azzi.
“I should be fine. It’s pretty late.”
Azzi nods, grabbing her hand and the two of them step out of the room, walking down the hall toward the elevator. The walk feels too short and they reach Azzi’s door before they know it.
Azzi reaches out first, pulling Paige toward her in one more kiss. It's slow, a little messy—her lips pressing against Paige's with a delicate urgency. Azzi’s arms slide over Paige’s shoulders, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of Paige’s neck and Paige responds, her hands wrapping around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in closer.
But then the door to Azzi’s room swings open, and Caroline peeks her head out. She doesn’t seem surprised by what she sees, “You deadass have like a minute.”
Like most people, because humans truly can’t help it, her eyes flicker down to Paige’s exposed torso, and Paige immediately notices the look.
The moment shifts, the lightness of Paige’s energy almost vanishing as she steps back from Azzi. Her jaw tightens, her fingers subconsciously starting to fiddle with the ring on her finger. She clears her throat, putting a little more distance between them. “I’ll text you, okay?” she says, her voice quieter now, and Azzi nods, understanding the sudden shift.
Paige takes one last look at Azzi, giving her a small smile then turns to walk away.
As Azzi and Caroline walk into the suite. Caroline watches as Azzi shuts the door and as soon as Azzi starts walking towards her bed, Caroline can’t help herself. “What was that?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.
Azzi glances at her but doesn’t pause in her movement. “That was a kiss,” she answers simply.
Caroline raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with that response. She shifts slightly on the couch. “Obviously. But I’m not talking about that.”
Azzi stops in her tracks, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. She takes a breath, turns, and faces Caroline. “Then what was what?”
Caroline is persistent, but her tone is soft and inquisitive, rather than pushy. “She had this huge scar on her side. I saw it when you were...you know. What’s going on with that?” Caroline’s eyes flicker with concern, showing she’s not trying to pry in a harsh way.
“It’s nothing,” Azzi says simply, keeping her voice neutral.
Caroline frowns, not convinced. “Azzi, that’s not nothing,” she says gently. “Is she okay?”
Azzi finally looks at Caroline. “She is.”
Caroline senses the finality in Azzi’s words and nods slowly, her curiosity still piqued, but understanding that Azzi isn’t going to share more. “Alright. I get it,” Caroline says, leaning back on the couch, not pressing any further.
True to Paige's word, as Azzi climbs into bed, her phone buzzes. She picks it up with a smile, seeing Paige's name light up the screen. Her fingers quickly swipe across the screen.
Paige💗You good?
Azzi reads the text and replies with a single word, followed by another.
Azzi <3 Course
Azzi <3 Why wouldn’t I be?
A few moments later, Paige responds.
Paige💗We kinda rushed for you.
Azzi’s chest warms a little at that. She pauses before texting back.
Azzi <3 You’re sweet
Azzi <3 Truly
Azzi <3 But the word "quickie" exists for a reason
Paige’s reaction comes through quickly — adding a laughing reaction to the message. Before adding
Paige💗Just wanted to make sure.
As Paige and Azzi continue their text exchange, a knock at the door interrupts the rhythm of the conversation for a second. Caroline glances over before moving to answer it, pulling the door open just enough to see who’s there.
CD stands in the hallway, her expression neutral as she steps just inside the room. Her gaze scans the space, quickly landing on Azzi sitting up on her bed, phone in hand. CD gives a small, satisfied nod, completing her room check, but her eyes linger for a second longer when she notices the shirt Azzi is wearing—the familiar bold Minnesota lettering printed across the front.
If CD has any thoughts about it, she doesn’t voice them. Instead, she offers a simple, “Goodnight, girls.” She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and pulling the door shut behind her.
Azzi chuckles under her breath, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to her phone, her fingers resuming their steady taps against the screen. Her smile growing as she sends another message to Paige.
Meanwhile, Caroline moves through the dim room, flipping off the last light before climbing into her bed.
Azzi remains awake, the faint glow of her phone illuminating her face as she continues the constant back-and-forth with Paige.
277 notes · View notes
bonus-links · 9 hours ago
Note
dog days part 1 or 2!
por que no los dos. I kinda consider it one big update anyway lol. this one might get long, I'll stick a readmore somewhere
i was insane for this. the comic will probably never be this decorated again but I had to do it at least once 😂 I try to give each era it's own subtle stylistic flair, though this is definitely the most overt one. I'm still really proud of this update!! sometimes I think I burnt myself out with this so bad tho that the first half of ch2 is pretty low on ornamentation bc of it. it takes like. a lot of extra mental energy ngl
it's slight but this whole interlude has a paper texture the rest of the updates don't :-)
there's lots of patterns to talk about here. twili patterns for the panel where wolf is zoning out.
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the pattern on the sides is kind of an abstract depiction of Ordona, although her light orb is in her hands instead of the horns. I was also riffing off the patterns on a lot of the Ordonian's clothes. The green parts are pumpkin vines! those generally represent wolf himself
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this is the dinner I reference at grandma's party in pt. 8
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the pumpkin vines change into these kind of gold-leafed vines I often use to refer to zelda. They do this a few times throughout the update.
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small detail I should include more often- wolf fidgets with his earring when he's bothered by something or thinking hard.
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Lots of people have translated this in the reblogs so I won't do it here, but it's essentially a summons from Zelda to the castle. It's intentionally a little difficult to parse- Wolf is not from Hyrule. I like to imagine a difference between written Ordonian and Formal Hylian. Wolf can read it, but it doesn't come naturally. Also, Wolf is referred to as "Sir Link Goatherd of Ordon" where "Goatherd" could be both an occupation and a surname (that's actually the origins of surnames like Gothard, which I considered using)
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Zelda's full name in the letter is Queen Zelda Celestia Nohansen Hyrule (though I think I write it as "Of Hyrule"). Idk if this makes sense actually, but it was meant to be a nod to the fact that TP is a parallel timeline to WW. WW had King Nohansen, so I imagine that as part of TP Zelda's lineage.
Wolf agreed to be a Royal Knight on the basis that it was only a formality, but then Zelda started actually summoning him to things anyway. He basically ignores them all, but they've been coming with increasing frequency. In Zelda's defense, the political situation she's dealing with trying to rebuild the kingdom is pretty tense. She could really use his help.
my favorite part of this update!! I feel like there should be no easy way to use the shadow crystal. if you want that power, you've gotta shove it in your forehead yourself! and yes, it does hurt. His ears flatten a little in anticipation. also sidenote I think this is the best I've ever drawn him lol
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I like to think Yeto and Wolf are still buds.
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I think whenever Wolf wanders like this, he frequently finds himself in the desert. He's given up on looking for shards of the mirror of twilight, though.
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The vines get yellow as they reach the bottom of the page- Wolf's time to hide in wolfmode is running out.
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little baby spirits of light hidden in this page, except ordona
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who's hiding on this page instead! while Link the Cat reminds Wolf it's probably time to go back to his family in Ordon.
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Wolf can't turn back into a human on his own, so he has to return to the sacred grove to reach the master sword. And yes, Skull Kid makes him play hide and seek every time 😂
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those are midna's hands on either side.
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this pattern has the organic shapes of the world of light, rather than the geometric twili patterns, showing that Wolf has immediately clocked that it's not a portal to the twilight realm. but alas, it's too late to turn back.
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In terms of the timeline, while Loft and Slate trek across Hyrule to Hateno, Wolf is lost in the Lost Woods.
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I wanted to put Ilia in this update more but this ended up being the only time she showed up lol
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and that's all I've got! if you read all of this i love u
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destinedfordiapers · 3 days ago
Text
Dancing Through Life
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This is Part Two of the series I’m writing with @paci-papa, catch up on Part One here!
One thing is crystal clear as you lay there in a soggy diaper, waiting for your babysitters to change you:
It’s going to be a long weekend.
For the last few months, Papa had been your whole world. He made you feel so safe, so secure you never thought twice about becoming his babygirl.
You didn’t mind the wet and messy diapers you wore all day. Or how your adult clothes were swapped for your current infantile wardrobe. You didn’t even mind that your adulthood was a thing of the past, never to return.
Papa was always there to make everything better. To assure you that you were right where you belonged.
It was like the outside world ceased to exist.
“You were so right, babe. She really is better off like this! It’s hard to believe it’s her. No more attitude, no more sass. Just a well-behaved pamper packer!”
Not anymore.
Papa didn’t leave you with just any babysitters. No, you had a history with the two babysitters smiling down at you.
“Well, I wish I could take credit for the docile little thing waiting so patiently for a diaper change! But her Papa deserves all the credit. All I did was put her back in diapers where she belongs!”
Two years ago, before your new life as Papa’s poopy pamper princess, Trevor was your boyfriend. But he could only handle your attitude and immaturity for so long. Especially when your drunken escapades ended with a soaked bed.
“Well, judging by how fast she tinkled through this diaper, it was the right decision!”
You foolishly look up and make eye contact with Liv. Pee trickles into your diaper as you see her condescending grin.
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Ugh, you hated Liv.
The woman who stole Trevor from you.
You remember that same condescending grin on her face when Trevor put your nighttime diaper on you before she ran off to bed with him. Or how she’d always check your diaper in her lingerie first thing in the morning.
And the horrible way she’d loudly comment that you made an “oopsie daisy in her diaper” whenever you woke up wet.
Liv stops Trevor as he walks to you with a new diaper and changing supplies.
“Babe, I’m a little concerned about Erica’s tummy. Her Papa says she usually makes a boom boom before lunch, but it’s already afternoon, and she’s only tinkled, poor thing.”
Your face turns a shade of red so bright a tomato would be jealous.
“Honey,” Trevor says, “Are you holding your poopoo?”
You cover your face in shame. “I…I…”
Liv jumps in with a sickeningly sweet voice, “Little one, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? We’re your babysitters! Our job is to change poopy diapers!”
You whimper, dreading what’s about to happen. “I…don’t have to…”
“Hmm. Why don’t we help make things easy, sweetie?” Liv says, grabbing your feet, “Let’s do bicycle kicks until you fill your diaper?”
“B-bicycle kicks?” you whimper.
“Yes, little one. They always work on my little niece!”
Before you can react, Liv starts moving your legs back and forth, slowly pushing them towards you before pulling back, cycling each leg.
“Mmmm,” you whimper, doing your best not to mess your diaper in front of Liv like an actual baby.
For a minute or two, the only sounds are your diaper crinkles and Liv's humming. A loud, foreboding gurgle erupts from your tummy.
You whimper, feeling your control dwindling. Every time Liv pushes your legs, you feel your control slipping. You desperately try to fight the inevitable.
Without warning, a loud toot trumpets into the room.
“Good girl, Erica! Get all your toot-toots out!” Liv coos.
It happens slowly, then all at once.
Your eyes go wide as you feel your mess sliding slowly, inevitably, into your diaper, which crackles as you fill it. Nothing you do makes any difference.
Trevor laughs, “Wow, you were right, Liv! Works like a charm!”
You have no control, like the baby you’ve become.
Each time Liv pushes, more mess slides into your diaper. She pushes on and on, your diaper struggling to contain your onslaught.
“Almost done, honey?” Liv asks, inspecting your diaper, “Anymore poopoo and we might have a blowout!”
All you can do is nod your head, too mortified to answer.
“Awwww, what did I say about being ashamed of your stinkies, baby? They’re part of life for you now. Besides, it’s not like waiting would’ve changed anything! Diapers are your potty now, silly!”
You cower as the smell engulfs you, a constant reminder of your new place in life.
Liv pats your diaper playfully. “Such a big mess, too! You musta felt so icky holding all that in!”
“No wonder Papa needs a break!” Trevor adds, “Diaper duty for little Erica here is no easy task.”
“Oh, stop, Trev. Don’t make baby Erica feel bad, she can’t help it. She’s just a baby!”
You look up at Liv with a feminine rage that fizzles out immediately. Liv meets your glance.
She’s taunting you. She knows you’re no longer a woman—you’re a silly baby in a poopy diaper.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, honey. Besides, I like you so much better this way! It was a mistake potty training you, but Papa is fixing that mistake! Your attitude is so much better when you’re pampered.”
Hearing that, you whimper, kicking your feet in shame. But too embarrassed to throw an actual tantrum.
As you kick, your bulging diaper sways heavily, threatening to burst.
“Awwwww, you can say that again,” Liv giggles, “Look at her go! Big girl things like drinking, sex, and work were much too big a responsibility for you. Papa was right taking them away from you.”
Trevor nods in agreement.
“Now all you have to worry about is being Papa’s pretty princess! It’s hard to have a bad attitude when you’re in a loaded diaper, isn’t it?”
Liv tickles your sides, cooing you. “Come on, lil stinker. Let’s get that diaper changed. You’re not getting diaper rash on our watch!”
As Liv changes your diaper, you can’t help but think about your new life—and what it means to be Papa’s pamper packer.
It was so easy to get lost in the silliness of being his princess when it was just the two of you. Papa made everything so perfect, so comfortable, you couldn’t help but want to be his diapered little princess.
But you forgot that you don’t get to stay home all day. There’s a whole world outside your cozy crib and comfy changing table.
And now you know exactly where you fit in.
Pamper packers like you may be cute and adorable, but nobody will ever take you seriously again. Not as an adult. To everyone, you’re nothing but an oversized baby in need of a caregiver.
You used to think of yourself as a beautiful, sexy woman. As Liv grabs another wipe to clean your poopy princess parts, you know those days are long gone.
Pamper packers don’t have sex. They get their princess parts wiped clean before being safely secured in another diaper before being sent off to play.
Later that night, the reality of your new life carries into the guest room. The sounds of Liv’s pleasure breaks the silence of the night.
You listen, imagining that it was you moaning. Getting lost in your fantasy, crinkles erupt from your bed as you desperately hump your pillow to the rhythm of the moans.
A crinkle symphony nobody will ever hear.
226 notes · View notes
earlysunshines · 1 day ago
Text
down for you
kang haerin x fem!reader ; fluff
synopsis: you beg haerin to go to some party and 1. haerin hates parties 2. she wasn’t even invited… but if it’s you asking she’s always willing.
warnings: mentions of alcohol ; not my best work tee bee aych 💔 ; ermmm pining ; nothing else really ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread
a/n: i haven't written for her yet bc no ideas LOL I prolly won't write much for her but!! this song is soooo her and the main inspo for this so yeah lololol enjoy :-p
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haerin’s building is across campus from yours—a good walk and a few flights of stairs to be exact. regardless, she’s on her way there because you forgot your laptop case. 
does haerin have to be doing this? absolutely not. her building is a five minute walk from where you’ve parked, and you even told her it would be better to wait for you. still, haerin meets you halfway just so she can accompany you on the way back to your lecture room and then to your car. it’s extra cardio for haerin and more time for you, so she’s not complaining. 
“you didn’t have to come all the way here ‘rin.” you giggle, grabbing not only your laptop case, but also the pencil case you managed to forget as well. “the campus is huge.”
“it’s fine.” haerin simply responds, waiting for you to zip your bag and put it back on. she smiles when you do, then follows you back to your car—a good ten minute walk away.
the rest of the way back, haerin listens to you talk about your classes with her head tilted in your direction. when you step a little too close to the edge of the sidewalk, she reaches out, fingers catching the sleeve of your sweater in a small, familiar tug as she guids you back toward the center of the path. she keeps her eyes on your most of the way back, only glancing down once in a while when you glance back at her and to avoid tripping over the crack in the path that gets at least ten students a day. 
you two have had this routine since you became friends last semester: meeting up somewhere, walking back to the car together, and almost always studying or spending time together after your classes are over. 
(the only time you two aren’t together is when you’re in your respective buildings, time that both of you dread—it doesn’t make any sense that the engineering and public health buildings are so distanced… they’re on the same wavelength, no?)
when you finally reach your car, you’re still mid-conversation, the rhythm is easygoing just as always. but then you say something that makes haerin falter.
“i know you’re not really a party person… but my friends invited me to one this friday and they really want to meet you.”
she pauses, fingers hovering over the passenger door handle. “me?”
“yeah, you.”
she blinks, settling herself into the seat beside you. “why… me?”
“i told them about you.” you grin as if the answer is obvious.
“actually?”
“how could i not? you’re my closest friend, haerin.” you glance over at her, smiling. “it’s just a small party thing, and i wanted you to be there.”
a lot is running through haerin’s mind. why would you mention her to your friends? is this party so important that she has to go? who are these ‘friends’? what will the party be like? haerin shivers a bit. the thought of being surrounded by new people, forced into small talk, makes her a bit uneasy. there is no way she is going to this party.
but then you lean in a little, tilting your head, eyes bright and expectant, and suddenly it’s hard to say no.
“we’ll just drop by,” you add quickly, like you can sense the hesitation in the way her jaw tightens and look averts. “just for a bit. and after, i’ll treat you to ice cream.” you promise.
she doesn’t have to go to this party, but you can’t lie that after so much time with her it’s hard when she’s not at arms length your friends have even rolled their eyes at the mere mention of her just because you always have something to say about her—whether it’s something simple or unrelated to whatever you and your friends were talking about earlier.
the amount of time you spend with haerin is enough to lead to the inevitable: growing feelings. how could you not grow fond of haerin in a way that’s more than platonic? she’s pretty, soft-spoken, and caring. she caught you by surprise that moment you bumped into her during your first day of university, and now she’s someone you can’t imagine being away from. you even call her almost every night.
plus, what you feel is the same on haerin’s end. she noticed you immediately, and the fact that you two are even this close still baffles her. she’d never admit anything, though. there is nothing other than her not-so-subtle looks and actions that could reveal what she truly feels.
she bites the inside of her cheek. haerin does not want to go. but you give her the look and she crumbles at how pretty you look. she can already picture you smiling at her over a cup of ice cream afterward, laughing about whatever might happen at the party.
haerin sighs, pretending to be reluctant when she mumbles, “i mean, i guess. if you want me there… then i’ll go.”
your sigh of relief is immediate, and before haerin can brace herself, you’re leaning over and wrapping your arms around her in a quick, excited hug. she stiffens for half a second, caught off guard, before her body relaxes against yours.
she smiles into you, taking in the scent of your signature peachy scent; haerin doesn’t need a mirror to know that her face is burning. 
haerin is in another situation that has her face burning once more.
she’s tends to get sleepy when she’s around you, especially when you both are cozy in your bed. it didn’t take long for her to pass out on your bed once you both finished studying. usually she wakes up to either you sleeping, studying, or doomscrolling. this time it’s doomscrolling.
her little shuffle gets your attention; the pressure around your waist loosening makes you hum. you turn to see haerin blinking a few times, then rubbing her eyes.
“hey.” you giggle.
“hi.” haerin responds sleepily, letting her body go limp again as she tries to take her leg out from between both of yours—you tug her leg back, keeping it there. it’s a little intimate for ‘just friends,’ definitely. but haerin feels all warm inside and you’re, well, just you, so she doesn’t complain. you don’t seem to mind either.
“you were out for like, an hour.”
“was i?”
“mhm.” you say as you turn to face her. her eyes are a little puffy, but it’s not that noticeable, more cute than noticeable if anything. you move her hair out of her face and smile, snuggling a little closer. “you’re so pretty.”
she laughs nervously. “i just woke up.”
“yeah, and you’re pretty.”
haerin is way too sleepy to deal with this, so she instead thanks the dimmed room for concealing her blush and closes her eyes once more. her smile lingers as she moves to face the ceiling, and it deepens when she feels you scooting closer.
“what time is it?” she asks.
“five.” you mumble, yawning lightly. “party is at seven.”
oh. haerin has completely forgotten about the party after being so comfortable, and now, the sudden realization shakes her awake.
“but let’s nap a little more, i’m comfy.” you insist.
haerin is anything but sleepy right now. “are you sure we shouldn’t be getting ready? what’s the dress code? do we have to look flashy?”
“relax,” you say, draping your arm over her. “it’s just a house party. baggy jeans and a t-shirt would be more than enough if i’m going to be honest. it’s casual, nothing crazy.”
“okay…”
okay, maybe you shouldn’t go to that party. 
haerin just walked out of your room in a simple outfit—just like you had said—but wow, she looks so good you think that maybe you should keep her here for yourself. her hair is still a little messy from her nap as well, so she’s tied it up. you always liked her with her hair up, and down… you like her with any hairstyle.
“do i look okay for the—”
“yes.” you cut off her question. “very.” you walk over, look her up and down, then snap a picture for safe keeping.
“what was that for?”
“you look really good, haerin.”
“oh.” she says flatly, feeling a lump form in her throat. “you do too.” 
you both smile at each other for another moment, feeling the weight of the tension push you two down. 
“let’s go?” you ask, lingering in front of her.
“yeah.”
there’s a strange stiffness in every part of your body as you drive to the destination. haerin is in the passenger seat on her phone looking like that, like she’s just been pulled out of a magazine. at each red light you try to steal a glimpse of her, silently in awe.
once you arrive, the party is already in full swing when you and haerin step in. the music vibrates lowly throughout the air, voices overlap in bursts of laughter, and conversation accompanies the house-type tune.
your friend haewon appears out of nowhere, beaming as she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. you laugh, hugging her back just as eagerly.
“y/n! i’m glad you could make it.” haewon beams. 
“i knew you loved me.”
“okay, not too much now…” she jokes, pulling away and turning to haerin, giving her a much smaller, polite hug. haerin barely has time to react before she pulls away, grinning.
“you must be haerin?”
haerin blinks, nodding slowly. “yeah.” her voice is calm, unreadable, but you catch her ears turning pink and the way her fingers twitch slightly at her sides.
haewon gives you a knowing look before disappearing into the kitchen. 
haerin exhales, subtle but sharp, and you glance over at her. she already looks a little overwhelmed, her shoulders tense, eyes scanning the room like she’s trying to find an escape route.
you nudge her shoulder before moving further inside, holding her hand as you do so. your shoulders stay close, touching, and she doesn’t pull away. instead, she stays close, like you’re the only steady thing in this chaos of the party.
“we’ll stay just for a bit,” you assure. “i just need to say hi to some people, have small talk, and before you know we’ll be at the ice cream place you like.”
she nods, her hand tightening around yours. “okay, just a bit.”
it has not been just a bit. it’s been nearly an hour—fourty-seven minutes to be exact.
(haerin has been checking her phone each time you run into a new person.)
she would be lying if this whole thing weren’t interesting, though the best part about meeting all these people is them mentioning how much you mention her and watching your blush grow.
“we’ll be talking about the menu at a restaurant and she’ll mention you. i remember we were getting dessert and she pointed to something going, ‘haerin loves this.’” one of your friends jokes. “you two aren’t dating, no?”
both you and haerin simultaneously freeze, with you breaking the awkwardness with a laugh. “i– no.” you push his shoulder. 
“okay, but you do talk about her a lot.” another friend nudges, grinning. 
you blink. “do i really?”
“yeah, so much.” 
haerin shifts beside you, her usual composure slipping just slightly as she looks down. there’s a small smile on her face as she pretends to be interested in the hem of her sleeve.
the topic changes before either of you fully acknowledge it, too attentive to the tension. there’s a small warmth lingering in your chest—half embarrassment, half something else.
the rest of the night consists of haerin following you around as you bump into others, and as the night goes on the more unbearable it gets. you seem to be meeting people who aren’t your friends, maybe acquaintances? classmates? whoever they are, you seem to be completely oblivious to how often they flirt with you. 
here and there they’ll lean in, laugh a little too hard at your jokes, and angle their bodies toward you like they’re waiting for a moment to catch your attention. it’s so blatantly obvious that the past three people have been trying to please you, but you don’t notice.
haerin notices. she notices everything, but she doesn’t say anything. she just keeps her expression neutral as she stays close. she takes it because she promised herself to get through this just for you, just for tonight.
but then there’s him. 
some guy—intak, you think? some guy you recognize from your introduction to kinesiology class—confident from the drinks in his system, slides up next to you. his smile is a little too easy as he leans in, voice dropping to something lower, more deliberate. 
“wow, you’re stealing the spotlight here, you know?”
you laugh, oblivious, waving him off. “that’s not true.”
“no, seriously. you’re gorgeous.” he gives you a smirk, winking in a way that makes your brows turn in confusion. “we have a class together—kinesiology and public health analytics—i see you and i can’t help but think you’re going to the be the reason i fail. you’re so pretty.”
“aw, that’s not true.” you chuckle nervously.
he moves his hand, not quite touching you, but close enough that haerin stiffens beside you.
and that’s when haerin decides she’s had enough.
her hand snakes around your waist, pulling you away from him and earning a confused, defeated look from the guy. you turn to her in surprise at the sudden action, and also because wow your heart is beating fast from that. 
“ice cream?” she reminds you, her voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “you promised.”
you glance at her, the weight of her hand on your chest grounding you just as much as it flusters. it’s only then that you realize how long you’ve actually been at this party. 
“oh—right. okay, let’s go.”
she pulls you in closer, leading you toward the door and out, her fingers warm against you. 
“i’m sorry for keeping you cooped up there so long, i lost track of time.” you apologize, starting the engine of your car. 
“it’s fine.” haerin lies, sinking in the seat and turning away from you. her words feel flat, like an automatic response rather than the truth. 
anyone else would believe her, but you know her well enough to recognize the subtle signs—how she tugs at her sleeves, how her fingers tap against her knee impatiently, how she shifts just slightly as if trying to make herself smaller. you don’t push her, instead focusing on the road, letting the silence settle between you.
the drive to the ice cream shop is quiet, and when you finally park, haerin barely glances at the menu before mumbling, “strawberry is fine.”
you don’t comment on how unenthusiastic she sounds, just get the order and hand her the cup before grabbing your own little cup of mint chocolate chip. she takes it with a quiet “thanks,” and the two of you sit in your car, parked beneath a streetlight that casts a dim glow.
usually, your silences with haerin are comfortable and easy. but this one is suffocating, even the soft hum of music doesn’t ease the tension.
something unspoken lingers, and you let it continue to hang in the air for a bit, hoping she’ll say something first. she doesn’t.
with a sigh, you lower the volume of the music and glance at her. 
“okay.” you say, breaking the silence. “why are you so moody? is it because of the party? if you didn’t want to go you didn’t have to. you should’ve just told me.”
haerin’s grip on her spoon tightens, her gaze fixed on the half-melted ice cream. “i’m just tired.”
you stare at her, unimpressed. “why are you lying to me?”
she exhales through her nose but doesn’t respond. shifting in your seat, you turn fully toward her, searching her face. “i know something is up. did my friends say something off? what is it? i’ve never seen you like this before.”
she stays quiet, biting down and tensing her jaw. for a moment, you wonder if she’s going to brush you off again.
haerin exhales sharply, setting her ice cream down in the cup holder before finally turning to face you. “do people always flirt with you like that?”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden question. “huh?”
she scoffs, shaking her head. “you’re so oblivious,” she mutters. “everyone at that party—everyone but your actual friends—was flirting with you, and you didn’t even notice. you barely even reacted to intak. if i hadn’t pulled you away, you probably would’ve stayed there without a clue.”
you furrow your brows, trying to recall the interactions from earlier. “i mean… i just thought they were being nice.” you say slowly.
haerin lets out a humorless laugh, like she can’t believe how clueless you are. 
you tilt your head at her, watching the way she pokes at her ice cream aggressively even if it’s half soup at this point. “why is it such a big deal?”
“it’s— it’s not.” she looks away, but there’s something in her tone, something in the way her fingers tighten around the fabric of her top.
you narrow your eyes. “wait—” you lean in slightly, voice dropping. “are you jealous?” it almost sounds like you’re teasing, but the curiosity in your tone is overpowering.
haerin stiffens, the tips of her ears turning red. “no, why would i be jealous?”
that’s a lie.
your eyes widen as realization dawns, and you nudge her arm, your teasing smile growing. “you are jealous.”
she glares at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but you can see the way she swallows hard like she’s debating whether to keep denying it or not. you’ve never seen her so nervous.
you press further, pushing past the hesitation between you. “why would you even be jealous over people flirting with me?”
haerin exhales, long and slow, before finally mumbling, “because…”
“because?” you echo, urging her to continue.
“it just— i can’t, y/n. can we go home? my things are at your place and i need to get home.”
“it’s a friday.”
“y/n, please.”
you frown, deciding to stop yourself from pressing on further to keep haerin from getting overwhelmed again. you hesitate before shifting the car to ‘drive,’ catching haerin turning her body away from you completely in your peripheral.
it’s completely silent from there on out. whatever happened in the car was the closest thing you’ve ever gotten to a fight with her, and you don’t know how to deal with it. when you reach your place, you unlock the door and let haerin go first, not exchanging a single word. 
haerin immediately grabs her bag from where she left it near your desk. she moves with purpose, like she’s trying to get out of here as soon as possible, but you can’t just let her leave like that. not when she’s in your place.
“haerin,” you call, and when she doesn’t turn, you step closer. “are you seriously jealous over people flirting with me?”
she huffs, finally looking at you. “it’s ridiculous, right?”
“yeah,” you say as you cross your arms. “you’re the most gorgeous, amazing person i know. they should’ve been flirting with you instead, i don’t know why they were doing it with me.”
haerin’s eyes widen slightly, her lips parting like she wasn’t expecting that. your assumption starts to make sense in her head: you think that she’s jealous because people were flirting with you and not her. you’re completely off, and before she can interrupt, you start again.
“i saw some people checking you out too. i overheard people saying that you’re pretty from my friends while you went to the bathroom and—” you step closer. “why would you ever be jealous over people flirting with me?”
she lets go of her bag now, jaw clenching before she finally exhales. “it’s not because they were flirting with you,” she mutters. “or because i want to be flirted with.” she shakes her head, eyes meeting yours with something raw in them. “it’s because they can say all of this while i can’t.” 
your breath catches. 
haerin licks her lips, voice quieter now. “i like you.” she swallows, avoiding eye contact. “i’ve been stressing about it for the past month or two. and tonight just… seeing how easily people say those things to you, knowing i’ve been thinking you’re so pretty and sweet before they even—” she exhales sharply. “i hate when people flirt with you because i like you.”
your heart stutters in your chest. the weight of her words turns a gear in your brain. everything feels real, and you suddenly feel breathless. kang haerin likes you. 
“haerin,” you murmur. “i— you do?”
“i’m sorry.” 
“no, no.” you stop her, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just— everytime i’d see people looking at you like… i don’t know, like they wanted you or something, i’d get this weird jealousy as well.”
“why?” haerin questions.
“haerin, i like you too.” you admit through an exasperated chuckle. “i go out of my way to spend time with you and everything because i like you. sometimes we’re laying in my bed or getting food together and i think, i just, i always wished it were something more than platonic.”
her breath catches, taken aback by the sudden confession. her eyes search yours for any sign that you’re messing with her, but all she finds is sincerity. 
“you do?” she asks, barely above a whisper.
“haerin, i like you so much.”
and then she exhales, relief and something softer washing over her features. she steps over to hug you, burying her face in your neck.
“i’m— i’m sorry for being so moody.”
“it’s okay.” you laugh, hugging her tightly. “i would’ve been the same if someone were flirting with you.”
you two pull away then, hands still on each other and faces now inches apart. everything around you stops, but the beating in your heart speeds up when you’re met with her features. 
on impulse, you sneak a quick kiss, pulling away immediately and feeling your cheeks burn. 
haerin’s eyes widen before she giggles, moving her hands to cup your cheeks properly and kissing you sweetly. the taste of strawberry ice cream lingers on her lips, making the moment sweeter. she parts, her lips ghosting yours, and you smile.
“are we moving too fast?” you ask.
“i– i don’t know. i’ve never… i—” you cut haerin off with another kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“i think this is fine. i wanted to um… do this before we left my place but…”
haerin laughs, smiling at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “well now you can… do it as much as you’d like. i like you a lot y/n.”
“i like you a lot too, haerin.”
228 notes · View notes
mayahawkesfirstwife · 1 day ago
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hiiiiii. can you do a se mi fic where the reader is a bimbo and in a relationship (maybe thanos or nam gyu's girlfriend) and se mi is attracted to her. se mi lies to her and tells her that doing things with other girls 'doesn't count as cheating' and the reader believes her so they...you know.
bonus for her boyfriend walking in and se mi just being smug
It Doesn’t Count as Cheating if We’re Girls
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★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
Pairings: Se-mi x Fem! Bimbo! Reader (Bf! Nam-gyu x Fem! Bimbo! Reader)
Summary: Se-mi tells Nam-gyu’s bimbo girlfriend if you do things with a girl it doesn’t count as cheating.
Warnings: Smut, cheating, oral sex, praise kink, fingering, getting caught, etc.
Author Note: I LOVEEE THIS IDEA!! I chose Nam-gyu as bf bc their beef in the show ITS JUST PERFECT that she wants to steal u from him!!! I’m really not good at writing bimbo! Reader so sorry abt that! Sorry if theres any mistakes!! I kinda hate the ending…
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Se-mi knew it was wrong.
You were Nam-gyu’s girlfriend, not hers. But she couldn’t help herself, you were too hot for Nam-gyu.
Yeah, you were naive, but she thought it was cute. Nam-gyu didn’t appreciate what good he had, he was so mean to you.
She seen it too, the way he spoke to you. You thought it was normal for boyfriends to treat their girlfriends that way so you never did anything about it.
But if Nam-gyu wouldn’t treat you right, Se-mi would. She could show you she’s better in one night.
Which is why she suggested they all have a ‘sleepover’ at Nam-gyu’s house.
The friend group thought it was a bit random but then they agreed that it actually sounded fun.
They all watched movies and played video games while you sat beside your boyfriend, simply looking pretty.
Se-mi kept glancing and staring over at you, the first time you caught her you waved at her.
When you waved she nodded her head upward and it made you feel funny inside.
You’d continue to catch her stares, you’d smile at her sweetly and she’d smirk as she looks away.
Soon she seen you yawn and tell Nam-gyu that you were going to his room to sleep.
She didn’t know how her plan would even work out but she knew you’d have to leave his room eventually, to use the restroom or go to the kitchen.
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
They all grow tired and she took the guest room while everyone else slept in the living room and Nam-gyu of course slept in his room with you.
She was right.
She heard some footsteps and she quickly got up and peeked out the door.
You turn to her, she looks down and checks you out, you were wearing a cute pink long sleeve shirt with white lace trim and some white pajama shorts.
“Hey.” Se-mi smirks, leaning on the door.
“Hi, Se-mi!” You smile, fiddling with your glass of water.
“Want to come inside so we can talk?” Se-mi knew you’d say yes, why wouldn’t you.
“Sure.” You smile, she lets you in and shuts the door behind you.
You set the glass of water down on the nightstand and sat on the guest bed.
You fold your leg onto the bed as she gets in the bed beside you, she gets very close.
She puts her hand on your thigh and when you turn to her, she smashes her lips against yours.
You hum, pulling back quickly. “Se-mi!” You gasp, standing up quickly.
“You-I…I’m with Nam-gyu.” You nervously said, she moves closer to the edge of the bed.
“I know.” She smirks, you were confused.
“Oh…so then why did you kiss me? I don’t want to cheat on my boyfriend!” You gasp.
“Oh, honey…it’s not cheating if we’re both girls.” She says, you hum.
“Wait, really?” You ask, tilting your head.
She pulls you closer by your hip, “Yeah, it has to be a guy to count as cheating.” She lies but you believed her of course.
“Oh, I didn’t know that!” You giggle, she hums. “Sit down.”
You sit beside her, her hands stay on her hips. “We’ll only do it this once, mhm? Neither of us should tell anyone.” You nod, and scoot closer.
She kisses you softly, you kiss her back this time, wow, she’s a great kisser.
She deepens the kiss and her hand reaches down and grabs your boob.
You pull back, “Shh, it’s okay. I can make you feel so good.” She quickly kisses you again.
You moan into the kiss as her other hand grabs your boob, she squeezed them both in her palms.
She pinches your nipple between her index and thumb and your mouth opens slightly, she slips her tongue into your mouth.
It was amazing. Nothing like with Nam-gyu at all. She knew what she was doing and she was really good at it.
She pulls back after a while and stood up, you watch her curiously as she grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down.
You gasp lightly, “Is this okay?” She asks, you nod quickly and she smirks, taking your pink panties off and tossing them.
“I’m gonna make you feel way better than your boyfriend ever has.” She says, kissing down your thighs, it takes you a moment to process what she said.
“W-Wait, what?”
She looks up at you and her lips attach to your clit and start sucking on it.
“Oh, fuck! Se-mi!” You moaned loudly.
She shook her head and you don’t understand what she means by it as she keeps sucking and licking on your clit.
You moaned quite loudly, “Shut the fuck up.” She says against you.
“I-I can’t, it’s so fucking good.” You whimper, head falling back.
“Well, you better figure something out or everyone is going to hear.” She says, you grip her hair when she continued to suck your clit.
She’s using her tongue a lot and you moaned loudly, she reaches up and slaps her palm over your mouth, muffling your moans.
You moan into her hand and your thighs start to squeeze shut around her head and she pulls them apart with one of her hands.
You whimper into her hand and she rubs your inner thigh softly, “Shh, it’s okay, I got you.” She mutters into you.
You look down at her, hands gripping the sheets in your palms.
You moan as her tongue works magic on you and your back starts to arch and you push on her shoulder as you whine.
She nods into you and you cum on her tongue, she pulls back with a pant and you whine when she pulls her hand away from your mouth.
She crawls up to hover over you, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, especially when you cum.” She smirks, kissing down your neck.
She kisses your breasts, starting to suck the skin above your nipples.
“Se-mi, please…” You whine.
She reaches down, spreading your legs open more and her fingers tease your folds, you whimper.
“P-Please!” You whimper, she smirks and starts to suck your left nipple.
You feel her middle and ring finger slide into your folds slowly and you hiss.
“Oh, S-Se-mi!” You gasp, feeling full of her two long fingers.
She slowly pumps them in and out while you moan as she sucks your nipples.
She uses her other hand to grab your right boob and squeeze it, you moan.
“F-Faster, please, oh!”
She pumps faster and starts to curl her fingers into you, making you moan loudly.
“Oh, fuck! D-Don’t stop, r-right there!” You whimper, she smirks.
“Oh, yeah? You like that?”
You whined loudly, “I love it, Sem!”
She continued to speed up and curl her fingers, you grip her shoulder tightly, “F-Fuck!” You push on her shoulder.
“It’s too much, fuck…Se-mi it’s too much!” You whimper, she shushed you.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just go on and cum for me, i’ll make it all better, I promise.” She praises, you moaned as you feel yourself cum on her fingers.
You pant as she pulls back, pulling her fingers out of you and you shut your legs as she gets off of you, laying beside you.
You sat up on your elbows and put your bra and panties on before looking over at Se-mi, who laid beside you still fully dressed.
“Se-mi?” You mutter, she looks over at you. “Yeah?”
“Can I do you next? Please?” You ask, she smirks, nodding her head.
“Yeah, come here.” She hums as you crawl over, sitting between her now open legs.
You pull her sweatpants down, she helps you get them off and tosses them.
You look up at her and she nods, you pull her underwear down and toss them by her sweatpants.
“What should I do?” You ask, leaning closer to her.
“Go on, eat my pussy.” She pushes on your head, you look up at her nervously as you face her naked bottom.
“I never did this for a girl before…” You admit.
“I know, I know, it’s alright. Just do what feels right, i’ll tell you what feels good, mhm?”
You nod, leaning in to lick up her folds slowly, she groans.
You move up to her clit, sucking and licking on it just like she had did you before.
“Ah, fuck…that’s good, keep doing that.” She groans, you moan into her, going faster.
You suck on her clit hard, she groans loudly and grips your hair tightly, tugging it.
“Fuck, baby…don’t stop!” She hisses, hips bucking up into you, making you hum into her.
Then the door swings open.
“Baby?”
You pull back, turning to face the voice of your boyfriend as you wipe your lip, he looked angry and hurt.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
“I-I was just…making Se-mi feel better…” You shrug, confused.
“Making Se-mi feel better? By cheating on me?” He shouts.
“I-I’m not cheating, babe!” You said, he scoffs as Se-mi gets her sweatpants on.
“Are you fucking dumb? You eating Se-mi out is cheating!” He hissed.
“I-I thought it wasn’t.” You glance at Se-mi who smirks who a shrug.
“Why the fuck whould it not be cheating?” Nam-gyu asks, you cross your arms.
“Well, Se-mi said it didn’t count if we were girls…” You said, Se-mi chuckles.
“Nam-gyu, I didn’t say that.”
You frown, looking back at your boyfriend. “Babe, i’m sorry, I didn’t know…”
“Yeah, whatever, just get out. I want both of you out.”
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
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gojougf · 1 day ago
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love me not .ೃ࿔ gojo satoru
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synopsis ╰┈➤ pining over your best-friend's brother for as long as you can remember actually did work out in your favour!
wc: 6.1k
warnings: shameless smut bc i was deprived of having the best friend's older brother experience, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of getting pregnant, mentions of food, fem reader, angst if you squint really really really hard.
a/n: this is a remake of a geto fic i wrote last year on ao3 when i was missing tumblr bc i had to visit my home country, and tumblr is actually banned there.. so in the offchance you did read my fic on ao3 (it has like 1k hits so you probably haven't) this is the same author lol! my writing lowkey sucked back then. english is also not my first language so I apologise if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes. not proofread so if it does say suguru's name or describes his attributes instead of satoru it is not my fault ok ( ´ ω ` )
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You rolled over, stomach aching with hunger, as you listened to the slow, steady breathing of your best friend. The dim glow of the clock read 3:25 AM. With a sigh, you stared at the dark ceiling, unable to ignore the gnawing emptiness in your stomach any longer.
It was your sleepover with Ami, but an ill-timed nap during dinner had left you feeling both restless and starving. Giving in, you quietly tiptoed out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, hoping there were some leftovers from the meal you and Ami had prepared earlier.
Switching on your phone’s flashlight, you barely stifled a scream when a dark figure loomed in the kitchen. Your heart slammed against your ribs as the figure turned, moonlight catching sharp eyes—ones that, even through your panic, you recognized instantly.
"Y/N? What’re you doing here?"
The deep, sleep-roughened voice of Gojo Satoru, Ami’s older brother, filled the silence. He spoke through a mouthful of Oreos, crumbs clinging to his lips. You exhaled shakily, quickly turning off your flashlight.
"I—uh, I was hungry and couldn’t sleep," you admitted, staring at anything but him. "Thought I’d grab some of the leftovers."
Your heart still pounded in your chest, but now for an entirely different reason.
You had known Gojo Satoru for as long as you could remember. Through every phase, every milestone, every moment of your friendship with Ami—he had always been there. Not always present, but there. Three years older, confident, effortlessly cool. While Ami was open and fiery, Gojo was just as lively—charming, talkative, always the center of attention. He had a way of making people feel at ease, flashing his easygoing grin and slipping effortlessly into conversation. But with you, it was different. With you, he was distant. Playfully dismissive at best, indifferent at worst, like you were the only person in the world he had no interest in figuring out.
And yet, despite his distant nature, one undeniable truth remained: you had been hopelessly in love with him for years.
Only two people in the world knew this—Ami and your diary.
You still remember the first time you saw him. Fourteen-year-old you had been completely mesmerized by the sight of Ami’s older brother—the ivory, icy hair, so similar to his sisters (you’d always called them Elsa’s siblings) the shirts he’d wear that did little to hide the toned body he had began building once he started hitting the gym, biceps filling the sleeves, and the way the muffled sound of his electric guitar filtered through the walls when you and Ami were in her room. You had been too shy to even approach him, content to admire him from afar, heart pounding at every accidental brush of his arm when he passed by.
Your infatuation had been so painfully obvious that Ami had once turned to you, deadpan, and asked, "Do you like my brother?"
You stammered, cheeks burning, only for her to roll her eyes and say, "I don’t care, do whatever you want."
But wanting had never been enough.
Over the years, you had tried—desperately—to get his attention. Push-up bras you had no business wearing at sixteen. Cherry-flavored lip gloss, tiny shorts, stolen tank tops from your older sister. Cute bikinis on beach trips with Ami, hoping his gaze would linger just a second too long. But he never looked. Never really looked. To him, you were just his little sister’s friend.
Seventeen-year-old you had given up entirely.
Especially when you saw the other girls.
The ones he did look at. The ones he brought home late at night, holding them close as they giggled against his shoulder, their hands roaming across his tall, lean frame. The ones who disappeared into his room, only for you to hear muffled noises through the walls no matter how hard you tried to ignore them.
"Give up already," Ami had told you bluntly one night, rolling her eyes. "My brother’s a whore."
Now, at twenty, with college life keeping you busy, Gojo Satoru has become little more than a distant, bittersweet memory. You had forced yourself to move on, burying that old crush deep in the past where it belonged.
But then, summer came.
And Satoru was back.
Home for a few weeks, lounging around the house like he owned the place. Teasing Ami relentlessly, getting on her nerves while you stood awkwardly by, watching the two siblings bicker. Occasionally, he would drag you into the conversation—just to fluster you, just to see you squirm.
At most, your only real interactions with him had been when he gave you and Ami a ride to school in his car or when he felt like helping with your math homework. Even then, it was never just help. It was teasing Ami for her awful math skills, then turning to you with a smug grin and exaggerated praise, just to make her mad.
You told yourself it meant nothing.
It had to mean nothing.
And yet, as you stood there in the dimly lit kitchen, watching him casually eat Oreos under the moonlight, you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened.
Like that fourteen-year-old girl was still somewhere inside you, heart still foolishly hoping.
You stood there awkwardly, stomach no longer the only thing in knots. This was the first time you’d ever been alone with Gojo Satoru, and suddenly, you had no idea what to do with yourself.
"You want some Oreos?"
He pushed the half-empty packet toward you from across the counter, chewing lazily on one himself. "Oh—uh, thanks." You took one, feeling a little ridiculous as you nibbled at the edge. Turning away, you busied yourself with the microwave, searching for the tacos you and Ami had left behind earlier. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the way Satoru raised an eyebrow. You weren’t exactly being subtle about your discomfort.
"Are you scared of me or something?" His voice was teasing, but there was curiosity behind it. "You never talk to me." You turned, startled by his bluntness. "I’m not scared of you," you said quickly. "I just… don’t really know what to talk to you about." He let out a low, breathy laugh at that, and warmth spread through your body at the sound. God, why did he have to sound like that?
"Oh, really?" he mused. "I’ve known you for years, and this is the first time we’ve actually had a conversation without Ami around." You didn’t have a response for that, so you focused on the tacos instead, pulling them from the microwave and settling onto a chair near the countertop.
Satoru snickered, shaking his head as he turned to the fridge. He rummaged through it with his broad back to you, the muscles of his shoulders shifting beneath his tank top. Your gaze drifted downward, trailing from the taper of his waist to the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips. His icy hair was gleaming under the dim light of the fridge, looking pristine even at such an absurd hour in the night. With a small flustered twinge in your chest you noticed how he had an undercut now— why’d he look more.. delectable than usual? Were you ovulating?
He turned back around, holding a container of leftover cake. You quickly looked away, flustered. "You like strawberry cake, don’t you?" He cut two slices, sliding one toward you. You blinked in surprise. "How do you know that?"
He smirked at your expression. "Ami mentioned it once. When she threw you that surprise party for your 16th birthday." Your breath caught. That was nearly four years ago. You hadn’t even thought he knew about that party, let alone remembered such a small detail about you.
Heart fluttering, you took a bite of the cake, trying to push down the giddy feeling creeping up your spine. Slowly, the tension between you began to ease. Satoru was surprisingly easy to talk to—charming, even. He started sharing embarrassing stories about Ami, making you laugh so hard you had to cover your mouth to muffle the sound. You learned that he wasn’t as distant as you had always thought—if anything, he was naturally outgoing, effortlessly getting along with everyone. Everyone except you, or so it had always seemed. But now, as the conversation flowed and you found unexpected common ground, you realized he wasn’t avoiding you—he just never had a reason to talk to you. Until now. You also learned that he had a lot more in common with you than you expected. He was into photography, filmmaking, and music composition, even studying music at university.
What started as a midnight snack turned into hours of conversation. Before you knew it, the sky was shifting from black to a soft, early-morning blue. 
"Never knew you were this cool, Y/N." 
You tried not to visibly preen at his words, fighting to keep your composure. "So you didn’t think I was cool before?" you teased. He rolled his eyes dramatically. "C’mon, you know what I mean." Then, more casually, he added, "You should hang out with me sometime. I could show you some of my short films, if you’re interested." Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you nodded—a little too eagerly.
He chuckled, eyes crinkling. But then, for the first time that night, his gaze flickered—down. Just briefly. You caught the way his eyes lingered at the neckline of your flimsy sleep shirt before snapping back up to meet yours.
A shiver ran down your spine.
But before you could overthink it, Satoru stretched, gave you a lazy grin, and bid you goodnight before heading back upstairs. When you finally slipped back into bed next to Ami, she was still sound asleep, completely unaware of your absence. You buried your face in the pillow, heart pounding.
You had definitely caught him looking.
And just like that, your years-old crush was back in full force.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
A few days later, you were back at Ami’s house, waiting for her to return from running errands. You plopped onto the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when footsteps coming down the stairs caught your attention. You looked up.
Satoru.
His white hair was falling into his eyes, loose strands framing his sharp features, and the compression shirt he wore clung to his torso in a way that wasn’t helping your thoughts at all. 
"Oh, hey," he greeted, blinking at you in mild surprise. "You waiting on Ami?"
"Yeah, she said she’s gonna be late, though. Not sure how long."
"Damn." He stretched lazily. "I was about to head to the gym, but they’re closed today." You nodded, pretending to focus on your phone again, even though all you could think about now was him at the gym. Then, his voice broke through your thoughts.
"You wanna come up to my room?" Your head snapped up. He was watching you, eyes unreadable, a small smirk playing on his lips. Your stomach flipped. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at his suggestion, your face turning toward him with a slight pink dusting your cheeks.
“What? Go to your room?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Satoru raised an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Yeah, you said you’d be interested in seeing some of my short films for my college projects. Want me to show you some? Seeing as we both have nothing else to do.” There was a certain teasing lilt to his voice, his sharp eyes taking in your flustered state with amusement.
“Oh.”
Realization struck, and you cursed yourself internally for how obviously thrown off you sounded. Really, it wasn’t your fault—you were a newly minted adult, and your hormones were practically waging war against your common sense. Still, you nodded, standing up alongside him, hyper aware of just how much taller he was. That ever-present smirk never left his face as he led you to his room, clearly entertained by your reaction.
The moment you stepped inside, you realized this was the only space in Ami’s house you hadn’t properly explored. You’d caught glimpses before—grabbing a charger or returning something Ami had borrowed—but never had you taken the time to actually look around. It was surprisingly neat, with the exception of his desk, which was cluttered with scattered papers and notebooks. A few posters lined the walls, his bed was made, and the entire space carried the familiar scent of his cologne.
“You can sit if you’d like. It’ll take me a second to find the files,” he said, gesturing to the bed as he made his way to the desk.
You hesitated before sitting down, instantly taking in just how much stronger the scent of his cologne was here. His bed, his pillows—everything was drenched in it. You briefly considered asking him what brand he used before dismissing the thought as too weird.
As Satoru rummaged through his laptop, you let your eyes drift to his back. The black compression shirt he wore hugged his broad shoulders, the fabric straining slightly each time he moved. You wonder what it would feel like putting your ankles on them while he– stop! Your gaze traveled lower, to his tapered waist, the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips—
You shook your head quickly, mentally chastising yourself for where your thoughts were heading. You crossed your legs in an attempt to ground yourself, tugging at the hem of your skirt in the process. As if sensing your discomfort, Satoru glanced back at you before giving you a small, teasing smile.
“M’not gonna bite, you know. You can sit comfortably,” he muttered, his attention half on the laptop.
“I-I know,” you mumbled, shifting slightly.
With that same lazy smirk, he returned his focus to the screen, fingers moving effortlessly across the keyboard. You watched them for a second too long—his hands were large, his nails neatly trimmed, his fingers long and dexterous. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the files he was pulling up rather than imagining sucking on his fingers.
“Aha,” he mumbles. “Found it.”
He clicks on a small folder icon, opening a three-minute video that plays like a cinematic trailer. You watch, both curious and impressed, as the screen fills with warm, golden hues—the entire short film has an almost Sufjan Stevens-esque aesthetic, shot on a beach at sunset. A man with dark long hair with striking amethyst eyes and a stunning woman with short, rust coloured hair (you ignore the tiny pang of jealousy at the fact that she got to work with Satoru) move through the scenes, their story unfolding in quiet gestures and lingering glances.
“The theme was ‘how love is shown through actions rather than words,’” he explains casually, glancing at you.
You look at him, thoroughly impressed. Even in such a short film, the theme is so carefully and beautifully portrayed through small, thoughtful details. You’d always assumed Satoru would lean toward thriller, or perhaps comedy, something packed with action. But this—this careful, deliberate depiction of love through unspoken moments—only deepens your admiration for him.
“I can tell,” you breathe out, taking in the last frames of the trailer. “It’s really beautifully made.”
A small, pleased smile tugs at his lips as he closes his laptop.
“The actors are beautiful, too. It adds to the mood of the film,” you add softly, glancing at him.
Satoru laughs—a smooth, melodic sound that makes your stomach flip.
“Those are two of my best friends. Suguru and Shoko,” he says. “Getting Shoko to agree was the hard part—she’s not into guys, but I knew her face had the exact look I wanted for this. She didn’t mind pretending to be with Suguru, but I did have to bribe her with a pack of cigarettes to make up for it.” He grins, amused at the memory.
You laugh too, feeling a strange sense of relief at his words. So Shoko wasn’t even into Satoru. Not that it should matter, but—well. She was gorgeous. You could admit that much. If you weren’t completely, hopelessly in love with Satoru, you might have tried hitting her up yourself.
He leans back against his pillow, elbow propped up to hold his head, watching you with lidded eyes and a lazy smile. You curse yourself for turning pink under his gaze. Shifting slightly, you fold your legs underneath you, adjusting your skirt as it rides up just a little. His eyes flicker downward, tracking the movement, before darting back up to your face.
You suddenly feel the weight of the atmosphere, hyper aware of the way his presence fills the room. Your gaze flits away, scanning the walls, the desk—anywhere but him.
“Um, I think I should go. Ami’s probably almost h—”
Your words cut off as Satoru’s large, warm hand closes gently around your wrist.
His lips curve into something unreadable, his dark eyes holding yours. “You know,” he murmurs, voice low, “I know about your little crush on me.”
Your stomach drops.
You don’t know whether to go pale or burn up entirely, but it feels like something in between.
“Wh—what?” You barely manage to force out the word. “Who said that? I don’t have a crush on you.”
He gives you a knowing look, rolling his eyes playfully. “C’mon, you think I wouldn’t notice?” He shifts slightly closer, and the warmth of his cologne—sandalwood and something rich you can’t name—fills your senses. “It’s so obvious. How did you think I wouldn’t know?”
Your breath catches as he reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with an easy familiarity. You blink at the gesture, suddenly feeling absurdly close to tears.
He notices. His expression softens as he wipes at the corner of your eye with his thumb.
“Why’re you crying, pretty?” He murmurs.
“I—I don’t know,” you stammer. “I thought—I thought you’d find me weird. Or childish. For having a crush on you.” You fidget with your hands, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just—just please don’t make fun of me or anything.”
His thumb lingers against your cheek. “I never said I didn’t enjoy your attention.”
Your breath stills.
“I think you’re pretty cute too,” he admits, voice dropping lower. “I’ve thought that for a while now.” His fingers trail to tuck your hair gently behind your ear. “I’ve always been… a little older than you. Always thought you were attractive as hell, but I didn’t want to freak you out about the age thing. Not until I saw one of Ami’s chats with you.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and you fight the instinct to take it in your mouth.
You shake yourself. Your brain can’t keep up with your body right now.
You look up at him, dazed, hanging onto his every word.
“Always suspected you had a little crush on me,” he muses. “You think I didn’t notice the tiny little tops you wore? How you’d lean in extra close, tits practically brushing against my arm, when asking me for help with math—math you already knew, by the way.” His eyes gleam as he watches you squirm. “Or how you’d reapply that pink lip gloss every time I looked at you?”
Your heart is pounding so loudly you think he might hear it.
He tilts his head slightly, watching you with that slow, amused smirk.
“My suspicions were kinda confirmed when I saw you texting Ami about how sexy you thought I was,” he murmurs, his voice like silk.
Your brain is screaming.
And yet, you don’t move away.
You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment, unable to believe he was telling you all this, too ashamed to look at him. His words ignited desire in you. He had noticed all your futile attempts to seduce him and despite the teasing words, you were getting wetter by the second.
He tutted softly, his eyes flicking to your face with a look that almost seemed amused. Gently, he reached for your hands, pulling them away from your face. His large hand easily enclosed both of your wrists, holding them firmly but not painfully, as he pinned them softly to your lap.
His gaze remained on you, studying your flushed expression with a small, knowing smile.
“You know what I wanted to do then?” He says, his voice low and teasing, as he leans a little closer, his eyes locked onto yours. The playful gleam in his eyes lingers as he watches you, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips, his tone laced with lust.
“What?” You ask with a faint voice as he leans into you, his mouth beside your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The proximity makes your heart race, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat as his presence fills the space around you.
“Wanted to fuck you so badly. I’ve jerked off so many times thinking about you.” He groans as he pulls back, his oceanic eyes now clouded by desire and lust as he boldly makes eye contact with you, squeezing both your hands in his large grip.
You instinctively reach up to wet your lips, no longer unfamiliar with the warmth of embarrassment after his bold words. Then, surprising even yourself, you do something you never imagined—your heart racing as you rise onto your knees, tilt your head, and press your lips gently against his.
He responds immediately, his hand freeing your wrists as it goes to grip the back of your neck, and the other spayed on your lower back. He kisses you passionately, the kiss itself a clash of teeth and tongue. You moan as his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around yours and completely dominating your mouth as you gladly let him. You feel dizzy when experiencing a kiss like this, pulling back from air, your lips coated in a mixture of both your saliva.
He has a crazed look in his eyes, as he leans in to softly bite your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact with you as he tugs on it slightly, letting it go with a pop. You’re breathing heavily, not only because of the kiss but because of how heavily you’re attracted to him.
Without warning he pushes himself against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs slightly and pulling you on his lap. You let out a small whimper at the way he manhandles you, arching your back and pressing your chest towards his as you both start kissing again. He kisses you like you’re his last meal, his tongue playfully chasing yours as he sucks on it, making you buck your hips against his.
He lets out a low groan at that, and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Eager to hear it again, you grind your crotch onto his again, feeling the hardening imprint of his cock through his sweatpants. He grabs you in place by placing his large hands on your waist, bringing his hips up to rut his cock against your crotch again. At this point your panties are completely soaked. you were already wet just from his confession about you, his smooth voice being able to turn you on embarrassingly quick. They feel uncomfortably wet and you look down, seeing a wet patch forming on his sweatpants.
He humps into you harder, as you try your best to rub down on him, your clit being stimulated by the feeling of his hardened length rubbing against you even through the layers of clothing. Satoru stops his ministrations for a second, looking at you, realising how small you are even while sitting in his lap. his hands travel up your thighs as he lifts your skirt, taking in your absolutely soaked pussy. You bite your lip in both frustration and lust, wanting him to touch you rather than just stare.
“Fuck baby, you’re so eager, huh” he mumbles, distracted by how he can see the shape of your pussy through your panties. You moan, a little embarrassed, pushing your hips up, to signal him to touch you. Teasingly, he runs a long finger through your slit over your soaked panties. You swear you almost cum at his touch, as your body suddenly jolts, your hands grab at his shoulders. He chuckles a little, as he slips his hand in your underwear, his fingers teasingly sliding up and down your labia, gathering your slick. he uses that slick and prods at your puffy clit, causing you to let out a whimper, your hands grabbing tightly at his shoulders as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.
“So shy.. fuck I wanna see if you can come on my fingers alone. Y’r so wet, You like it messy?” He breathes out his words, his voice like honey, his fingers setting a brutal pace against your clit as you succumb to the pleasure, not even getting embarrassed at the fact that you’re basically riding his hand. with no warning his middle finger slides into you gently, as you gasp at the intrusion. However your clit is never left neglected, as his thumb immediately goes back to rubbing and flicking it, making you bite and kiss his neck in order to somehow relieve yourself of the torturous pleasure you’re experiencing.
“F-fuck,” you mutter, leaning back to look at Satoru in the eyes, biting your lip. “I think- I think ‘m close Satoru.” You close your eyes as he watches your face intently, his gaze boring into you as you twist your face into one of pleasure. Suddenly you feel a coil in your stomach snap as you feel yourself release all over his fingers, your breaths coming out fast and shaky. with one last flick to your clit, he grins smugly.
Clumsily, you climb off his lap, kneeling off the bed, hands reaching the waistband of his sweatpants. his brow furrows as he tsks cutely. “Let me take care of you baby, don’t you wanna feel good?” He asks as you shake your head, still flushed from your orgasm.
“No. wanna make you feel good too Satoru.” You say, as he throws his head back in a groan, getting painfully hard at just your words. “Fuck. okay. you’ve done this before?” He asks, as you nod your head. “Once, but I.. I don't know if I'm good at it.. I mean he came.. so..” You admit, looking at him, playing with the drawstring of his sweatpants.
“Shit, you have such a pretty mouth, I'm sure it’ll be good. I’ll teach you, baby” he says, caressing your face, setting his legs at the edge of the bed, as you get down on the floor between his spread legs, looking up at him.
You quickly discard your shirt, leaving you in your bra. Ironically, you chose to wear a lace one today as all your other ones were in the wash. Satoru smirks at your cute, lacy pink bra, snapping the strap against your skin as he looks down at you, analysing both your face and your supple tits. You nimbly take off his pants, gulping at the tent in his boxers. Timidly you run a hand over his clothed cock, and you see a wet spot starting to form. He gasps at the feeling of your hand caressing him, and you pull down his boxers with a gasp.
It's big. it’s really big, is all you’re thinking. It slaps against his stomach, tall and proud, the tip a flushed pink colour, already starting to dribble pre-cum. His base is trimmed, and you almost salivate when you see how it connects to his happy trail, the tantalising white trail peeking out at the end of his compression shirt. You have no idea how you’re gonna fit it inside of your mouth.
You gingerly grab it, your mouth reaching out to kitten lick the tip. Slowly you take the tip in your mouth, suckling on it, as you start to make your way down. He starts moaning when you pay attention to the tip, and you bob your head up and down his shaft, feeling a small sense of success when you hear him downright whimper, and you feel slick slide out of you again. You eagerly bob your head up and down, not being able to take all of him in because he’s so big, spit is coating your chin and dripping on his dick, your hands pumping the remaining part of the shaft that won’t fit in your mouth. You’re gagging and he’s grabbing your hair to roughly lift it up and then thrusting his cock back in your mouth, and you let out a moan, pressing your thighs together at the rough way that he handles you.
“Fu-fuck, you’re taking it so well. Shit- ah!” He moans out louder and you look up at him with teary eyes, hollowing your cheeks. A few more thrusts and suddenly he pulls you off, his face flushed.
You whine, wanting him to cum in your mouth. He coos up at your needy reaction, pulling you onto his lap, his face flushed and red. “You’re on birth control right?” He pants recalling when he had overheard you telling Ami that you’d need to leave their house soon to stop by the store to get some birth control before they closed. You nod and he gives you a happy grin, his canines peeking through. 
“Need to cum inside of you.” He whispers in your ear and you nod eagerly, wiping off the spit on your chin with the back of your hand.
His hands travel up your skirt and pull your basically ruined panties off as you sign a breath of relief, the cold air hitting your pussy. You’re left in a bra and a skirt and you quickly unclasp your bra and Satoru pushes off your skirt. You’re left completely naked and Satoru still has his shirt on.
“Hey, take your shirt off too!” You whine and he laughs, pulling off his shirt in one swift go and kicking his sweats and boxers that were both pooling at his ankles. Immediately your hands run down the hard planes of chest, feeling his rippling muscles, your hands scratching at his abs. He shudders at that as he buries his face in your tits, licking and kissing them in a way which has you arching them in his face.
He sets you down on the bed as he grabs his stiff cock, running it up and down your pussy. It touches your clit, which is still sensitive after your previous orgasm, and you let out a little whimper.
“Satoru, stop staring at it like that..” You mumble shyly, as Satoru’s eyes are completely focused on how your pussy is clenching, wanting nothing more than his teasing cock inside.
“Your pussy? S’not my fault it’s so fuckin pretty. Wanna taste it next time.” He mumbles and you flush at his crude words, moaning and bucking your hips as he prods his dick at your entrance.
You close your legs at the intrusion as he slips the tip inside, hissing at the slight burn as he stretches you out. He pries apart your knees with his huge hands, spreading out your pussy to him and you grab the sheets, writhing. He enters you slowly, pulsing inside of you, and suddenly the pain melts into pleasure.
“You can-you can put it fully in now.” You signal and he immediately fills you up, staying still so you can get used to the size. “M-move. Fuck. Please, Satoru, move!” You whimper and he starts thrusting into you, at a deep yet slow pace that has you seeing stars. He kisses you, swallowing your moans as he peppers his kisses down to your neck, sucking and kissing, which you’re sure is gonna leave marks but you’re feeling too good to care at the moment.
Satoru starts whimpering, relishing each time he slides into your warm, gummy walls. “You’re so tight, your pussy is literally suckin’ me in. Shit you’re so gorgeous” he breathes out, watching down at where your bodies are meeting, getting turned on by the lewd slapping sounds filling his room. Your eyes roll back in response, you’re too fucked out to respond. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest as you squeal, his cock now drilling into you at a deeper angle. He keeps hitting the right spot each time and you swear that with a few more thrusts you’ll cum again.
“Ah, I'm so close. You sure I can cum inside this tight little hole?” he says, looking you in the eye, as you nod eagerly. “Please, please cum in me. I need it inside of me!” You start incessantly babbling as he chuckles. Thoughts of him fucking a baby into you take over you and you wonder what it would feel like having him cum in you without any birth control.
He grabs your tits, squeezing them harshly, rolling your nipples in your hands, fucking into you at an almost animalistic pace as he is trying to reach his high. You feel that familiar bond in your stomach, as its warmth is threatening to spread all over your body.
“Sa– Satoru!! I’m gonna cum, I’m-“ You start writhing as he moves his hands to hold your hips down, his thrusts becoming sloppier. He reaches down to kiss you messily, biting your bottom lip as you moan into his mouth.
He suddenly stills, filling you to the hilt, breathing heavily as you feel him release hot spurts of cum in you. The thick ropes of his seed paint your walls, suddenly fucking into you harder, even though he’s sensitive after his orgasm, a hand reaching down to play with your clit to help you cum too.
You feel the bond snap as you cum all over his cock, arching your back and grabbing the sheets, your breaths coming out in pants as you lock eyes with Satoru. His hair is falling onto his slightly sweaty forehead, and he’s breathing heavily, as he pulls out. A mixture of both your fluids come out, and he quickly goes to the bathroom and grabs a small cloth, wiping you down and cleaning you.
“You okay? Need me to run a bath?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. You shake your head tiredly, lifting your arms toward him.
“Can you hold me?” Your heart pounds as you meet his gaze, and he smiles down at you—soft, reassuring.
“Of course I can, baby,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him. Your head nestles into the crook of his neck as his fingers stroke through your hair, his warmth melting away the last traces of exhaustion. He tugs the blankets over both of you, his steady breathing lulling you into a peaceful haze.
Within minutes, sleep claims you both, wrapped in each other’s embrace—completely unaware of the door creaking open downstairs.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
You creep down the stairs quietly, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. The morning light filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room. After last night, you had called your parents, telling them you were staying over at Ami’s—though you left out a few details.
Both of you are still giggling when Ami suddenly pops out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula like a weapon.
“You guys need to be more quiet. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood heard you,” she grumbles, smacking Satoru’s shoulder with the spatula.
“Ow—why are you hitting me? She was the one making all the noise,” he teases, nudging you with a smirk.
You groan, burying your face in your free hand as Ami winces.
“I did not need to know that. At all.” She glares at him before her eyes narrow suspiciously. “So… are you two, like, dating now or something?”
You tense, looking away but still holding Satoru’s hand. Truthfully, you have no idea where you stand with him.
“If she’d let me, sure,” he says softly, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
You whip your head around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash.
Ami rolls her eyes. “Whatever. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.” With that, she turns and disappears back into the kitchen.
Satoru chuckles, leading you toward his car to drop you back home. As he unlocks the door, he looks at you, a playful glint in his eye.
“So… what do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”
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hiiii writing is so fun omg i have so many ideas and so much freetime i think i'm gonna write about nerdjo next :3
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dduane · 15 hours ago
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Unusual creative moments
So this is why when work circumstances force you to drop a digital-art project in mid-production, you leave yourself some kind of goddamn note as to what it was about and where you were going with it.
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...Briefly: Some weeks ago, for some damn reason, I picked up the Daz Genesis 8 figure that appears in the middle of this scene. I think it was discounted, and it amused me, and I had an idea of maybe finding it useful down the line. So I grabbed it.
Then time went by and I got very busy with some other things, and last night I was going through some render files looking for something else, and I ran across the file that underlies this and thought "WTF is this...?" and opened it.
...Well. Don't ask me what happened, or why I set it up in the middle of a duplicate of the render in this post, which some of us have seen before. Possibly I set it up after we got home some night in late December or thereabouts after having a few at the pub. (Or because I'd been doing something to the file that day, and knew the lighting in this one was pretty good, and wanted to see how the figure behaved.)
But it's certainly... a take. A sight gag, anyway. And made me laugh very hard in the middle of the evening, thus doubtless causing some confusion upstairs. :)
(Disclosure: As it happens, I've actually soft-pitched to Henson a couple times over the years. Once at their London offices, just after Spock's World came out, as part of the general (and frankly ridiculous) buzz of Oh look, who knew a woman can write space opera full of surprisingly hard science and respectable-quality prose?! that for some reason surrounded the UK launch while I was doing press there. And once in their old LA studios in the... late 80s, I think? when there was some interest there in the Young Wizards books. Nothing came of either visit, but it was nice to be invited.
Not sure if they'd invite me again after seeing the above, though. Oh well. ...In any case, the polycule is plainly still in shambles.) :)
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fleuriion · 1 day ago
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✦ General & Random Headcanons ノ Random hcs and little things that came up to my mind when it comes to them! ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ featuring moze, mydei, dr ratio. ⸝⸝ wc: 1,196 ✦ Note ; the usual "beware of horrible grammar with spelling mistakes because English isn't my first language" ⸝⸝ might be ooc because I've only started writing about hsr characters in general just now ⸝⸝
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♡ Moze
⸝⸝ Imagine a cat lover Moze who always yet discreetly tries to pet a kitty when he was lurking at the street but the cats always end up running away because of his scary aura (Jiaoqiu never lets him off the hook when he found out about this.) ⸝⸝ Secretly really likes and collects those tiny adorable plushies that resemble cats. He keeps them sitting near his pillow on the rare occasion where Moze does take a rest out of fatigue. ⸝⸝ Canonically enjoys cleaning and couldn't stand even the smallest of smallest dirt in his presence ever. Wherever he lives or resides in, it's super clean that you can see the light from the lamp on the ceiling being reflected by the floor. His place is super tidy and neat too! Things are placed where they're supposed to place. ⸝⸝ Following the third point, I see him using at least 20 shampoo and/or conditioners in a single shower to ensure his hygiene. Once his work is over, Moze would spare at least an hour and it's all for bath and his hygiene. In the case where he did finish earlier, Moze would use those time to ensure his place is still as clean and tidy as it was before leaving again. ⸝⸝ HATES drinking/consuming medicine due to his past. Due to this, Moze keeps and make sure he's always healthy. (His sleep schedule might be unhealthy though) ⸝⸝ Moze would follow you around from behind to ensure your safety. I know, it sounds a little bit creepy and weird from an objective standpoint, but he's doing that to ensure your safety! Really! ⸝⸝ Say goodbye to giving him surprise hugs from behind on the contrary. Moze's sharp and keen senses can always detect your presence miles away before you even acknowledge his near you. You can unfortunately rarely if not never catch this man off guard. ⸝⸝ Would leave you small gifts with notes on them. Stuff such as a bouquet of flower, or something that reminds him of you ⸝⸝ Moze is so underrated and adorable I love him <3 ♡ Mydei
⸝⸝ Do you think Mydei could braid hair well? I've been staring at his drip marketing for a while now and it makes me think about how he braids that little part of his hair. So yes! Would braid your hair if you ask him to as long as you two are not under the peering eyes of the public.
⸝⸝ VERY discipline and strict about especially his training, and being the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos strengthened this. Mydei would wake up early every morning to train and train.
⸝⸝ Headcanon that comes off very personally that Mydei is actually pretty good at playing chess, he just doesn't show it off all the time because he thinks it's not all that necessary. Mydei grew up in a region/nation that's all about basically war and tech that revolves around them (cmiiw.) Due to this, he pretty much has a strong sense of the strategization needed in chess.
⸝⸝ Dry texter. Like super dry that it's actually funny. Mydei doesn't see the need to use things like emojis and stickers because as long as it gets his messages across then it works for him.
⸝⸝ Good with kids. Mydei canonically had willingly trained a kid in Okhema. He's those typical gruff who's an enormous softie deep inside, except he just struggles or even sees it as vulnerable to express it.
⸝⸝ I could see him as those healthy mama's boys. Mydei had often gotten compliments about his looks, but utter out something like "I bet your mother is sooo pretty for her son to look like this" and he will melt in your arms.
⸝⸝ Has one of those punchable yet cute smug-ish grin. When Mydei managed to for instance get under your skin, he will have that stupid grin on his face that makes you want to punch him, except he also has enough of the charm to not make you want to punch him. (Not like you can anyway man's a beast)
⸝⸝ Probably has a sweet tooth. On a particularly hard day, Mydei will indulge in himself by having a bite from Golden Honeycake, or have a drink of Pomegranate Juice with milk. (Gosh love this man <3) ⸝⸝ Likes chaste kisses. The prince will never say it out loud to your face, but when he wants a small peck on your lips or just wants to be held by you in general, he will subconsciously glance at you and let his eyes linger a little longer on you, be it on the lips, or stare your eyes out. Give him a short small kiss on his lips, and the warrior succumb into your arms.
♡ Dr. Ratio
⸝⸝ Elegant yet horrible looking handwriting. By horrible, I mean they look like those ancient scripts that needed to be translated in order to be read. By short, we call it "Doctor's Handwriting" lmao.
⸝⸝ I like to think he does skin care as a routine. Be it due to his value of hygiene, or even irritable skin. He has a 20 step routine skin care I just know it (source: trust me bro)
⸝⸝ Also another one of a strict and disciplined scholar. Ratio wakes up every morning early to workout and maintain his healthy physique. He never leaves without tucking you properly and sneaking in a small kiss on the forehead however!
⸝⸝ No doubt will invite you over to bath with him. Not in any sexual way, just a cozy escape after both of your own rough and tiring day. Ratio will gladly help you scrub your back in the most gentle way possible. The two of you would end it by him reading a book in the bed while holding you close to his figure <33
⸝⸝ Ratio is a busy man and tend to leave early, but will leave notes at certain places for you (ex. on the fridge in the morning)
⸝⸝ Don't know about you, but Ratio personally doesn't say anything much about your relationship. But, he doesn't deny it either when asked. Once given the opportunity, will subconsciously ramble on about how he's graced with your presence and as your lover.
⸝⸝ Has a habit of eating fruits because he both wants to and keeps himself healthy. Expect the fridge to always have a space for some fruits in there for him to eat.
⸝⸝ Encourages you and makes sure you do eat healthy, following up from the point above. Ratio will remind you when to eat and stop you from work to make sure you remember to take a break. (I also love this man)
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zepskies · 10 hours ago
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Aw thank you so much for giving me the idea and letting me run with it!! 🥰
Oooh I feel like with Big Sky you can start from the last episode of season 2 and more or less understand why Beau is there. Whereas with the Boys...yeah, you definitely need to see season 1 and 2 before you watch 3. 😉 Still, I'm so glad you could still have fun with this batch of HCs!!
Aww no worries on 10 Inch. It's not the best movie ever, but Priestly is oh so very adorkable in it! 💜💜
Hahaa yay!! Another Friends fan! 💕
I was imagining MEV reader again, and as I was writing this I kept getting myself confused because I’m relating her to Monica’s love of cooking. But Dean is a bit of a mother hen and fussy with the cleanliness of his room, so he’s definitely got some similarities with Monica there haha - role reversal when the ‘bossy’ one gets bossed - just go to bed Dean!
Awww honestly it makes me so happy you were imagining the Midnight Espresso-verse reader! 🥹 That version of her and Dean live in my heart rent free always. But you're right, she totally embodies Dean's love of cooking while he holds her down in a similar way that Chandler holds down and supports Monica. She also dotes on Dean a lot though, so it would make sense to me how she'd be taking care of Dean and making sure he slows down to take care of himself. 💞 (Yes, go right to bed, Dean!!)
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I’m really surprised by Beau’s character. I’ve read a couple of fics where the big 3 were all present, granted they were crackish, but I was under the impression he was a little more grounded and sweeter? And I guess he probably is, I’ll give him a pass because he has the man flu, but I didn’t realise he was such a work-a-holic. Then again, he’s a sheriff, makes sense. And at least he listens eventually, even if there were a few, I’ll say instructions. Man runs a right ship. “And can you get me…”
Aw yeah, Beau tends to be more grounded and a little more mature than Dean, but he still has a playful aspect to him, along with a hidden edge of trauma in his past (you'll see when you watch the show).
Yes! The idea was that he's the sheriff and really gets into his work, but once he caves to her telling him he needs to take it easy, it was my HC that he'd settle into being her patient. More sweet but annoying, in a "can you get me just one more thing, baby?" kind of way lmao.
He’s just a dick, a grumbly one, but also a softie and wants some love deep down right? You won’t win it with yachts, mate, although I guess it’s worked for him before?
Oooh yes, Ben is selfish and an asshole, most of the time. Taciturn and grumpy, but for someone he actually cares about I feel like he'd try to soften up just for her. 😉
LOL he's learning that love isn't just throwing money around. 😆
I’m going to see if I can watch Ten Inch Hero 🤞 - but now I really want to know if I was to read one of your Ben fics (being a super hero interests me the most), is there one I could read where I wouldn’t have to watch the show first? 👉👈 spoilers don’t bother me, I read supernatural fics set in the bunker before I’d even gotten there 😅 but I want to check one out and Break Me Down is looking very appealing ❤️
10 Inch Hero is an easy watch! Though with Soldier Boy, I reeeeally recommend you watch The Boys first to get a sense of the world, the characters, the background of SB's story. It's a wild ride lol, but I would truly love it if you read Break Me Down! That's the SB series I'm most proud of, and was my first foray into figuring out how to write Soldier Boy. 🥰💚 Hopefully BMD emulates the tone of the show. I tried to do justice to SB's characterization, as well as the other Boys characters, like Butcher, Hughie, Annie, M.M. etc.
However, if you do decide to dive into BMD before watching the show, the main thing you need to know is that Soldier Boy (real name Ben) is a Boys parody of Captain America...if with a Winter Soldier "captured by Russians and tortured for 40 years" storyline. 😅
At the end of season 3, there's a big showdown between Homelander, SB, Butcher, and the rest of the main characters. BMD is canon divergent from how season 3 ended, but you can read up on the canon plotline here.
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HEADCANON: Man Flu
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Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader
HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?
AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜
Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉
Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~
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Dean Winchester
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He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.
Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.
He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.
Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.
He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.
To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.
"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.
"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.
"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."
Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.
Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.
After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.
"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.
"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."
As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.
He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.
He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.
"You made this?" he asks.
"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."
"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.
He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.
He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.
He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.
It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.
(He fails.)
After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.
"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."
Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.
"Thanks, sweetheart."
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Beau Arlen
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Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.
He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.
You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.
You put your foot down one morning.
He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.
You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"
"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.
"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."
His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.
"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.
"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.
He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.
"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.
"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"
"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.
"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.
It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.
"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.
"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"
"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."
You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.
"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.
"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."
"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.
"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."
He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"
"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."
"And some saltines?"
"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."
You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.
"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.
You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."
"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.
"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.
Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.
You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.
But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.
In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.
"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."
You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.
"No, I think you're sick."
"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."
Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.
It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.
"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."
He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.
Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)
He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.
"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."
You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.
"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"
"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.
"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.
"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.
"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.
He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.
Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...
Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.
Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.
He eats without further complaint.
You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.
"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."
He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.
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Boaz Priestly
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"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."
You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.
"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"
Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"
"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"
Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.
"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.
"That's six days old already," you shake your head.
"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."
Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.
You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."
He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."
"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."
He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.
Talk about Man Flu.
"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."
A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.
"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.
"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.
"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."
Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."
He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.
Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.
"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.
You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?
"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.
Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.
"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"
You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.
"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."
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AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.
But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜
And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕
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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Priestly Tag List
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@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2
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ttalgi · 1 day ago
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missent letters pt.2
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wanderer x gn! reader
part 1 || part 2
tags/cw: academic rivals to lovers, some cursing, mc is: a Vahumana student in the Akademiya, roommates with Alhaitham and Kaveh, and a pyro vision holder.
a/n: I finally finished the book a year later (lol) which made me want to make a part 2! Also, please don't mind any ooc or wrong plot details...it's been a while since I've actually played genshin.
wc: 2.1k
“It would do your remaining few brain cells some good to stop banging your head against the table. Plus this table was expensive. I can’t have the wood scratched already.”
You stop mid head bang to send Alhaitham an incredulous look. “Please!” you plead. “Have some sympathy for me at least once in your life. My life is over.” You slump your body across the living room bench.
Without missing a beat, he replies, ”I let you live here, don’t I?” Alhaitham turns to Kaveh with a raised eyebrow, “Care to fill me in on their latest tantrum?”
“It’s not a tantrum—!”
“Long story short, they asked me to send out some envelopes for them because of their busy schedule, so I told them to leave whatever they needed sent on top of their desk. Among the envelopes was one for Hat Guy, which apparently they didn’t want me to deliver.” He takes another bite of the shawarma wrap that Alhaitham brought home for dinner. 
Kaveh turns to look at your defeated form. “If you didn’t mean to send Hat Guy the letters, why were they mixed up with the other envelopes in the first place? What’s the big deal about those letters anyway?” he asks while chewing.
You perk up your head to look at him. “Huh? You didn’t read them?” you ask.
“You see, unlike some”—he sends Alhaitham a pointed look—”people, I have basic human decency.”
“Again, I let you guys live here—”
“Basically, everytime I feel anger or annoyance towards him, I just vent about it on paper pretending that he’s the recipient. Then I just stuff everything in the same envelope because it’s easy storage that way.”
“Wait!” Kaveh interrupts. “Just how many letters have you written about him? That envelope was like an inch thick. It even cost me extra postage!”
“...What can I say? I have lots of vendettas against him,” you shrug.
Alhaitham interposes, “I don’t think I understand. What’s the big deal? So what if you told him exactly how you feel about him? I didn’t take you for being a people pleaser.”
“This is why people think you’re such a machine at times, Alhaitham!” Kaveh throws his arms up in frustration. “Some people actually care about how they present themselves to others.”
“Actually!” You interject before another one of their infamous arguments breaks out full throttle. “Alhaitham’s kind of right. I did write exactly how I feel about him, and that’s the thing. I wrote everything that I felt about him..” you trail off.
Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp. “No way! You finally confessed your feelings for him in those letters?!”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it confessing. I just talked about how I think his eyes are kinda dreamy despite being cold at times and that he has a really pretty face and that”—you almost give yourself whiplash turning in his direction—”Wait, finally? What do you mean finally? There’s no way you could have known about my minuscule crush on Hat Guy!”
“Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that you have some romantic attraction towards him,” Kaveh sighs while shaking his head before gesturing to Alhaitham. “Even this guy is aware of it.”
“You two do know that I’m not socially inept, correct?”
Deciding to ignore Alhaitham, you slump back against the bench. “I’m doomed.”
You pop up with an idea. “Wait! Do you guys think Tighnari needs any more forest rangers? I can take a break until this whole thing tides over and just help him over at Avidya Forest—”
Alhaitham quenched your wishful thinking. “Knowing how substandard you are with your vision, you’d accidentally set the forest on fire.”
You stumble back as if an arrow pierced through your body. You mumble out, “Must you always humble me.” You turn to Kaveh with hopeful eyes.
“I thought I'd never say this, but I agree with Alhaitham. You trying to help Tighnari in the forest would do more harm than good. Plus, you'd end up a victim to his lectures again. Remember that one time you—”
Feeling your body riddling with piercing wounds, you slump against the bench once more. “Yeah, I’m doomed.” 
//
It's been five days since Kaveh accidentally sent out the envelope meant for Hat Guy and you aren’t sure how much longer you have until the letters would be in his possession. Unless they already were... 
If you were blessed by the Archons, then maybe the envelope was lost or better yet damaged beyond repair in delivery, but alas, you know better. The mail system in Sumeru City is known for its attentiveness, especially since many important Akademiya-based deliveries are sent and received daily.
You haven't seen Hat Guy around much these days, especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively avoiding him. Mandatory lectures that you both share? You now sit close to the exit, far from him. The library that you guys are known to basically reside in? You begged Alhaitham to let you study in his office instead, promising that you’d do his portion of the house chores for the next two weeks.
Deciding to go home early out of your own volition (Alhaitham kicked you out because of an important meeting), you carefully tread the halls of the Akademiya making sure to peek around each corner before continuing. As you start to believe that you're finally in the clear, you hear someone behind you clearing their throat. Taking a look down at the shadows decorating the floor, you see the silhouette of the man that you have been avoiding for your own peace of mind.
"How much longer are you going to rat around the Akademiya for? It's not like you can avoid me forever, you know."
Feeling offended by his choice of words, you abruptly turn around to tell him off; however, the sudden close proximity of your faces has you taking a step back. If you hadn’t been paying attention to his face, you would have thought that he was unaffected by the action, but the slight widening of his eyes before returning back to normal has you knowing otherwise.
You give Hat Guy a pointed glare. Wanting to defend yourself against his statement, you open your mouth to retaliate but the sight of the familiar envelope in his hand causes you to simply shut your mouth and grimace instead. 
As he notices your actions, Hat Guy lets an annoying smirk grace his face. "Come on, say what you were going to say. We both know that you have a lot to say to me," he says while lazily waving the envelope around.
To try and play this in your favor, you start to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘avoiding you’. Also, what’s with the envelope? Never seen it before in my life.”
Hat Guy raises a brow. “What’s with this sudden stupid, chill guy persona? Anyways, it seems like you need a reminder. Not surprising considering our perspective rankings,” he subtly gloats.
“You little—”
”Let's see,”—he opens up the envelope and starts to smooth out the bottommost letter—”Maybe reading some of these letters will help jog your memory.” He makes a grand gesture of pretending to clear his throat before reading, and you can’t help but to cover your face with your hands to try and protect yourself from the upcoming embarrassing retelling.
“Again! Again, you received a higher score on an assigned research essay. It’s only been 2 months and 11 days since you’ve been enrolled into the Vahumana Darshan, so how is it that you’re the apparent “All-Knowing” about Time-Sensitive Commodities? Who do you think you are? The new Sumeru archon of wisdom? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be disrespecting our Lesser Lord Kusanali by comparing you to her—” he pauses and his eyes hurriedly shift to gauge your reaction. If anything, he should be thankful. If you hadn’t been so focused on not looking at him, you would have seen the crease in his brows mid-reading.
Hat Guy recomposes himself before continuing to read. “For Archon's sake. What’s more frustrating is your subtle boasting towards me. How could such a shitty personality even emit from a pretty face like yours? Though, I’ll begrudgingly admit that I actually look forward to these interactions that I have with you.”
“ST—!”
A coy smirk fills his face. “Oh? Why so embarrassed? Do you know these letters after all?”
“N-no…I was just clearing my throat.” At this point, you curse your pride for not being able to halt this interaction.
“Stubborn as always.”
This time he picks out a letter from the top of the stack..
“It's completely and utterly unfair how your resting face looks so serene. Why must you always be in the library at the same time as I? Your stupidly, bewitching face only serves as a major distraction, like how could I not stare! It's like your face was personally carved by a god. Also, how the hell do you make a simple fountain pen look so good? The way that your slender fingers grip the—”
“OK, that’s enough! Stop with the reciting! I admit it!” You feel your face heat up from embarrassment and your pyro vision only makes everything feel hotter. You raise your hands in frustration. “It was a whole mixup! Those letters weren’t even meant to be sent to you.” You dial back your volume towards the end.
He pointedly sighs. “Well that much I figured out. There’s no chance in Teyvat where you of all people would willingly subject themself to this. So, what are you going to do about it now?” he asks while crossing his arms.
It hurts to admit, but you felt stupid at this very second. “What do you mean?”
He tskd. “Do I need to explain every little thing to you? You’re ranked right below me, so I know that you’re not stupid. Are you going to own up to your letters and finally confess? Or are you going to just cowardly dismiss this like you’ve been doing?”
“CONFESS?” You almost give yourself whiplash from how fast you check to see if anyone’s heard you. You repeat yourself in a whispering tone. “Confess?”
“You talk about ‘looking forwards’ to our interactions, staring at my ‘bewitching face’ and ‘slender fingers’ and you think it’s absurd that I bring up confessing? Or would it be easier for you if I confess first?”
Without thinking you blurt out, “There’s no way that you actually like me back.”
“Do you ever see me bothering to interact with anyone as much as I do with you? I even surprised myself when I started to catch feelings for your stubborn self.”
You try to shake off the nerves before staring into his eyes. “Hat Guy, I like—”
“Wanderer.”
"What?"
"Call me Wanderer instead; it rolls off the tongue easier than Hat Guy. It’s a nickname that the traveler gave me. Hat Guy is a silly name that happened to stick around the Akademiya.”
“Lots of names you have there, huh?” you tease.
He lets out a sound that’s the mix between a chuckle and a scoff. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Well, Wanderer. I like you. So…will you go out with me?”
“Obviously.” (Your eye roll at his matter-of-fact tone is instinctual) “I wouldn’t waste my time with anybody else. Anyways, let’s get out of here. You were on your way home before I caught you, weren't you?”
Your lips start to raise into a smile. “You’re going to walk me home?”
“Noo, I’m saying this so I can just go off on my own—”
“Oh, shut it. Let’s get out of here.”
As the both of you guys stroll out of the Akademiya, your hand closest to Wanderer suddenly can’t stop twitching every so often. Your head fills with thought pertaining to your new found relationship. 
‘Is it too early to be holding hands?…Maybe hand holding is too PDA for him on open streets—’
A cold hand suddenly embracing yours breaks you out of your stupor. You turn to Wanderer, clearly surprised by the action. Starting to feel embarrassed, you try to pry your hand out of his clutch, only for him to tighten his grip. “W-What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He pivots his head to the opposite side, hoping that you won’t catch his ears turning slightly pink. “Your thoughts are so loud that even Mondstadt can hear them,” he scoffs. “Just lead the way.”
You start to walk with a slight pep in your step. “As you say!”
bonus scene?:
“Hey, can I give you a nickname too? Or is it too soon..”
He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”
“XxAssMaster69xX”
He lets out the biggest sigh. “Not you too.”
“Jokes, jokes—” you pause. “Wait, me too?”
He continues to walk forwards without you.
“Me too?! Hello???”
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lolahauri · 14 hours ago
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˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Sex With Gihun, S1;:
my favorite boy gi-hunney 🫶 i've been itching to write smut about him. i have tewww many thoughts about this man. S2 hc's coming next!
(also too much to warn for everything, so read at your own risk!)
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-> F/M, Long HC's, Panty Stealing, Lots Of Diff Kinks/Positions, Pervy! Gihun, Etc... <-
༊*·˚ Ohh this man is so openly down bad and pathetic for you. Like he's such a simp it's kinda embarrassing! He just really see's you as way too good for him. :(
༊*·˚ Kind of a perv too tbh, but can you blame him? You're just so beautiful and alluring, he can't help but be so attracted to you.
༊*·˚ Every once in a while, he's the type to rummage through your laundry and find a pair of freshly used panties to steal. He'd stuff them under his pillow to keep and use for when he's horny and you're not available.
༊*·˚ Imagine when he finally puts them to good use the same night...
༊*·˚ Gihun would start by teasing his cock over his jeans, eyes closed while he inhales your scent, pretending it's you who's edging him. When he gets impatient, he'd quickly unzip his pants and pull his cock out through the fly.
༊*·˚ He'd try to stroke a little slowly at first. Up, down, up, down, while groaning your name. Burying his face into the panties, he'd start licking and sucking on the fabric while he beats his cock faster. His lips would be nonstop pouring broken whimpers and pleads, begging as if you were actually there.
༊*·˚ Imagining you is what would send him over the edge too. Picturing you still in the panties, humping his face and pulling his hair, it'd make his cock throb and balls draw up in no time. And without thinking, he'd wrap the article around his dick just in time to catch his fresh load, totally soaking your favorite panties in his hot sticky cum.
༊*·˚ He'd feel a little guilty and gross afterwards, but not enough to keep him from doing it again next week.
༊*·˚ Imagine catching him while he finishes though... Climbing on top of him and untangling your tong from around his softening cock, grinning while he stutters out excuses and apologies. But instead of scolding him, you shut him up by stuffing the underwear in his mouth and sitting yourself in his lap.
༊*·˚ He'd look at you with wide eyes and a deep blush on his face, but not stop you. In fact, he'd immediately notice his cock hardening underneath you again, despite the embarrassment of being caught and tasting his own cum.
༊*·˚ The night would end in you riding him until you're both unable to cum anymore. And he would go to bed wondering if he should get caught doing this more often.
༊*·˚ Gihun loves dirty talk, especially if there's praise mixed in. He gets so unbelievably turned on by knowing he's making you feel good. He priorities your pleasure first, after all.
༊*·˚ "Fuuck, Gihun! You look so good underneath me, my pretty boy."
༊*·˚ "Be a good boy and take it, alright? I know you can last longer than that."
༊*·˚ "That's it, baby, don't stop. Keep fucking me just like that, feels s'fucking good."
༊*·˚ "C'mon, look at me while you cum inside, Gihun."
༊*·˚ In return, he'd be so vocal as well. Not as much talking, but more so whimpering, crying, moaning, swearing, whining. He's especially vocal in response to your praise. (And some specific actions.)
༊*·˚ Pulling his hair is a good way to make his moan like a girl. His favorite is when you grab his hair and forcefully press his face into your bare cunt. Or when you're on top, please pull his hair back and make him look you in the eyes. Instant putty in your hands.
༊*·˚ Swears and groans the most when he's on top. He'd be the type to get so lost in the pleasure of fucking you that he cannot shut up. If he's got you bent over in doggy, then he's leaning over you and kissing your neck while he groans in your ear.
༊*·˚ Or in missionary, he's got his face buried in your tits while he moans about how fucking good you feel. Loves playing with your nipples in this position too. Sucking, pinching, rubbing, anything to make you squirm under his touch.
༊*·˚ Occasionally whispers things like "feels so fucking good." "you're so perfect." "fucking love you so much." "so tight and wet for me."
༊*·˚ Whimpers and gasps the most when doing oral.
༊*·˚ He's totally pathetic when you suck him off. Every bob of your head, kiss on his tip, squeeze on his balls has him gasping for breath and whining like crazy. He loves it when you make eye contact too. Watching you look him in the eyes while you take him down your throat makes his cock throb and twitch relentlessly.
༊*·˚ During oral he tries to not be pushy of course, but sometimes he can't help but thrust his hips into your face a little. Or weaving his hands through your hair and giving a gentle tug onto his cock. He's just so fucking needy he can't hold back sometimes.
༊*·˚ Imagine giving him the go-ahead to fuck your face. He'd be so hesitant, almost refusing, but eventually he'd give in. (And be so glad he did.)
༊*·˚ He'd start off slow, cupping your cheek and keeping eye contact while gently rocking his hips. Feeling you gag lightly when his tip reaches the back of your throat has him feeling both guilty and insanely turned on. He love love loves the sight of you taking in his impressive length all at once.
༊*·˚ That tender pace would keep up for a while, gradually increasing the intensity until he's needy and aching to cum down your throat. That's when he'd put your hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand and cup your cheek with the other, quietly asking if he can pleaseee go faster.
༊*·˚ When you enthusiastically agree, he throws his head back and starts rutting into your face like he's in heat, briefly looking down every so often and admiring the sight of drool and tears dripping down your cute face. He doesn't last too long in these conditions. Gihun quickly feels that knot in his abdomen tightening, moans and swears slipping past his lips with each thrust.
༊*·˚ As he finishes, he presses your face against him one last time, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum he shoots down your abused throat. He feels a chill go up his spine when he slowly pulls out and watches you swallow his load.
༊*·˚ Gihun would get apologetic so quickly. Repeatedly asking if he went to hard while wiping your tears and spit. The best way to reassure him is to just shut him up with a kiss. (He would moan into your mouth if you did that.)
༊*·˚ His volume is the loudest when you ride him. He does not last long at all either.
༊*·˚ Every bounce has him nearly screaming out moans, mixing beautifully with the creamy sounds of cunt wetting his cock. You love it, of course, but your neighbors definitely don't. So sometimes it gets to the point you have to muffle his noises yourself (because he definitely wont hold back himself!)
༊*·˚ You can either do that by covering his mouth with your hand, or making him suck on your tits while you ride. He has no preference, both get him incredibly turned on.
༊*·˚ He cries the most when being edged or overstimulated. But if you were to pull away, he'd get even more needy and annoyed, because why on earth would you stop?! Safe to say he actually enjoys it.
༊*·˚ Definitely moans into your pussy when he eats it. Also a massive munch, borderline addicted to it. If you're having a bad day, he insists on you sitting on his face, letting you use him as much as you want until you feel better.
༊*·˚ He'll eat your cunt in any position you want. But he does have a favorite that we'll get to in a second.
༊*·˚ If you want it from the back, he'll bend you over a counter or table and get on his knees right away. Once he has your panties pulled down or to the side, he doesn't waste time by teasing you. He gets right into it, rubbing your clit in tight circles while fucking his tongue in-and-out of your dripping hole.
༊*·˚ Loves to smack, squeeze, and rub your cute butt while he eats you out too. Gihun is for sure an ass guy, no matter the size or shape. he just loves your ass, especially when it's in his face (or lap).
༊*·˚ Again, he also enjoys it when you sit on his face and use him. His favorite thing is when you grind on his tongue and nose while pulling his wavy locks. If you pay attention, you'll also hearing him stroking his cock while you fuck his face. You don't mind that at all though, the extra sensation of him moaning into your cunt just makes it all feel better.
༊*·˚ He LOVES 69 too, but you would end up doing most of the work hehe. Your lips wrapped around his cock distracts him too much to do any real eating. So you may also just have to ride his face in reverse-cowgirl while you suck him off.
༊*·˚ But his favorite position would be you on your back and him in sniper position. That way he can really bury his face in it while grinding his aching cock on the mattress. He also enjoys to view of you grabbing your tits, and likes that you have better access to grab his hair and push his face into your pussy.
༊*·˚ Gihun would for sure overstimulate himself on accident in this position. He'd finish in his pants before he's done eating you out, but he wouldn't be able to stop himself from continuing to grind on the bed. He'd have this boxers soaked with at least three loads of his cum before he even thinks about stopping.
༊*·˚ He'd be so pussy drunk as well, addicted to taste of your juices on his tongue. He'd slide his tongue into your hole first, before running it up and down your folds a few times, eventually landing on your throbbing clit.
༊*·˚ After a few delicate kisses and licks, he'd latch his lips around it, sucking harshly on your clit and circling his tongue around it a few times. He'd practically be french-kissing your cunt at some points, eating it more for his own pleasure than yours.
༊*·˚ Eventually when you're done and can't take it anymore, you'd have to pull him off of you. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that he was so far gone he probably would've gone all night if you didn't stop him.
༊*·˚ He'd look so pretty though. Just imagine his pretty brown eyes with his pupils blown wide, looking at you with pure love and lust, his face dripping in your cum as he pants and tries to collect himself and snap out of his drunken state. Phew...
༊*·˚ Gihun would also go crazy for dry humping. He has a love/hate relationship with being teased. (mostly love <3)
༊*·˚ Imagine sitting in his lap and kissing while you roll your hips into each other. He's softly moaning into your mouth while his hands grab and squeeze anything in reach. When he starts getting close, he digs his fingers into your hips and starts grinding you on him even harder.
༊*·˚ You latch your lips onto his neck when you feel his cock twitch between your thighs, sucking hickeys onto his flesh and giving little love bites. That combined with the humping has him loudly cumming in his pants, groaning and panting in your ear like he's just run a marathon.
༊*·˚ He slowly stops moving you when he's finished completely. Afterwards bringing your face back up to his and giving you a soft, but deep kiss on the lips. The two of you end up lying down and falling asleep in each others arms.
༊*·˚ Overall I think he leans more to the submissive side, but he's just very needy and eager to please, so really he'd just do whatever you wanted. <3
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starlightslvtt · 21 hours ago
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summary: Y/N and Lu’s fierce academic rivalry takes a turn when Lu’s harsh words in the tension of the moment leave him filled with regret. His heartfelt apology & attention to Y/N’s passions sparks an unexpected shift from enemies to something more. As tension turns to longing, they realize their competition was only the beginning of their story.
tropes: enemies to lovers, academic rivals, introver(ish) reader x extrovert luigi, mean/bully luigi, fluff, slow burn romance!
୨ৎ authors note:omg this fic is my first ever one so hopefully i wrote it well. I’ve had this scenario running in my mind for so long & now I’ve finally wrote about it! also this song reminds me of lulu soso much?! hopefully you all enjoy reading it. if anyone has any tips on how I can improve my writing please do share! anyways happy reading! ily all sm!!
“Studying again, Y/N?” Lu drawled, his smirk laced with condescension as he plopped down at the desk beside hers in the library. “You do know there’s an entire world outside of textbooks, right?”
Y/N didn’t even glance up from her notes. “And you do know that stuffing your face with food while pretending to be an academic weapon doesn’t actually make you one?”
His jaw tightened, a flash of irritation flickering in his caramel-brown eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
Y/N finally turned, leveling him with a cool stare. “And neither does arrogance, Mangione.”
Lu huffed, crossing his arms. “Call me that one more time, and I swear I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Beat me in our next exam? Oh wait, you’ve never done that before.”
The tension between them was suffocating, their unspoken rivalry a fire that never seemed to burn out. For years, they had been at each other’s throats—vying for the top spot, trading barbed insults between lectures, and tearing each other apart in debates. It wasn’t personal. Or at least, that’s what Y/N had always told herself.
Until one day, Lu took it too far.
“You know, Y/N,” he said, leaning against the hallway lockers, his voice laced with something crueler than usual, “it’s kind of pathetic how you spend all your time studying. No friends, no social life—what’s the point of being the smartest in the room if there’s no one around to care?”
Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around the books in her arms. The words stung more than they should have. Maybe because there was truth in them.
Lu’s smirk faltered. He hadn’t meant to say it like that, hadn’t meant for the flash of hurt in her eyes. But it was too late.
Later that evening, regret clawed at him as he sat at the dinner table, picking at his food. His mom and sisters exchanged a knowing look.
“What’s wrong?” his sister, Maria, asked, nudging him.
“I… I said something really awful to Y/N today.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know why. We were just—caught up in the competition, I guess.”
His mom frowned. “Apologize properly, like a man. Own up to your mistake, and she will forgive you.”
Lu nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking… she likes homemade cookies.”
“and how do you know that?” Luciana his other sister asked.
“I heard her talking to someone once, on the phone. She was talking about all the things she likes to do but doesn’t have time for any of it.” he mentions.
Which is how he found himself standing outside Y/N’s house the next afternoon, a baby pink container with a ceramic bow on top holding freshly baked cookies in hand, and his mom hovering beside him with a too-pleased expression. His friends—because of course they had to come and witness his misery—stood nearby, grinning.
Y/N opened the door, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him. “Mangione?”
He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Uh. These are for you. I—” He sighed. “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you work hard, and—look, I just, I’m sorry.”
Y/N glanced at the cookies, then at his mom, then back at him. Slowly, she took them. “You made these?”
“With help,” he admitted. “But mostly me.”
His friends erupted into teasing remarks.
“Wow, Mangione’s got a soft side.”
“Just date already.” Tracy his friend yelled out, teasing.
Lu groaned. Y/N rolled her eyes, but a faint pink dusted her cheeks.
And somehow, after that, everything shifted. The insults became playful. The rivalry felt lighter. The long nights of studying became shared instead of solitary. And somewhere between the stolen glances, the laughter, the way their fingers brushed when they reached for the same book.
They stopped being enemies.
And they started being something else entirely.
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should-be-sleeping · 3 days ago
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Hi, hello, go fuck yourself. :)
First,
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Secondly, by the 40's only 33% of farms even had electricity. What timeline are you from? Because it isn't this one. Farm equipment largely ran by man or horse power until the 50's and even the labor done by beast of burden required human labor. I never said by hand, that was a you embellishment. We still use man power in farming today even with all the advancements to technology and its prevalence. Hell, slave labor is still utilized today, what rock do you live beneath?
Third, I love that you genuinely think that working for actual mobsters is nonviolent, that's very... special. I figured the average reader could connect A to B and get the hint yet, here you are, acting like the hint is some big gotcha revelation you alone have uncovered with your massive throbbing intellect. But, what should I expect from a nazi apologist that got banned from reddit for spreading misinformation?
By the way, just for the record, the average age in which children join a gang today is still 12-14. Your bland experience is not universal. A story that seems wild to you is just someone else's Tuesday. It'll be okay though. Just remember: the world is a vast and varied place!
In conclusion, I'm sorry that you think skepticism alone makes you smart, but it doesn't. Wow, log off. Holy shit. Once again, please don't forget to go fuck yourself. I know I was trying to politely explain the linear passage of time earlier but I want to make it very clear that you're an unlikable person and I do not like you. I had to spell that out to be sure we're on the same page, because we definitely weren't when you took the time to write all that nonsense earlier that you're clearly unqualified to even think about in the privacy of your own thoughts let alone regurgitate out loud.
Imagine reading a post about hope and positive influence and deciding you need to refute it (incorrectly in every way) because you're such a miserable cavity of a person.
P.S. I'll save you the time of a reply by blocking you outright as you've more than proven you have nothing to add to any conversation above the 4th grade level, have the personality of a wet sack of rancid onions, and behaving Like This on purpose is clearly doing your mental health no favors, just fyi. Have the life you deserve.
P.P.S. Had I realized earlier they think Elon Musk is a genius, I could've saved time and just said: lmao. Alas.
P.P.P.S. This dude is being so normal about being proven wrong, and blocked, that he's apparently posted a long winded rebuttal wherein he continuously embellishes the original story with his own interpretations of events because he has the reading comprehension of what I can only assume is on par with a goat and the most terminal case of Must Be Right I've ever seen online. He cannot disprove the words I actually typed, so he's just making up new ones. He goes on to conclude illiteracy was and is rare by proving it is still common by existing himself (the modern rate is 21% btw). Interesting hill to die on, but at least he's dead.
He probably heard "all press is good press!" once and now spends time trying to debate more popular blogs hoping 1 or 2 of their followers will then read his fanfic, but this is the extent of attention given. In a week no one will even remember him here and he'll still be typing. It's not a debate if the other person has a fundamental commitment to misunderstanding you.
Re: Hobbies
My grandfather was born during The Great Depression. He attended a  one-room school with all the kids in the neighborhood until his teacher deemed him a lost cause. As a problem child he was sent out back with the other misfits during school hours with a stack of comic books to entertain themselves – because they couldn’t read but could look at the pictures. He and the others taught themselves to read so that they could figure out what was going on in the panels. Daredevil and Batman are the only reason he knows how to read. After a fire destroyed his family’s home, he lived in a shack with his mother, father and five other siblings. Suffering third degree burns over more than half of her body during their escape from the blaze, he was removed from school to care for his mother and spent the next few years watching as she slowly died. One of her only comforts was in knowing that he had learned to read so he could make something of himself one day. After losing his wife, my grandfather’s father sold him and his sister to two different families a few counties over. Using the money from those transactions, he was able to keep the remainder of the family afloat. No one knows what became of my great aunt but my grandfather wound up on a farm where he was no longer allowed the luxury of reading, or anything really. My grandfather lived the next handful of years as a slave on a potato farm where he slept in a barn and was given nothing to eat but extra potatoes. If there were no extra potatoes, he did not eat. It is important to remember at this point in time, he was very much still a child. He should have been reading comic books, but instead he was working sixteen hours a day without pay. Finally he could take it no longer and ran away. He hopped into a train car and wound up in the city. By the tender age of twelve he was living in an abandoned building with all the other discarded children of that time period and rats the size of small dogs. He wound up in a gang, fighting for survival in a place that didn’t care enough about starving, suffering children to help them in any way. Sometimes he’d steal comics and read them to the other kids. He was doing things to survive that all his comic book heroes would have condemned him for and that realization, and some good luck, are what got him out of that situation he found himself in. He ran into one of his brothers by sheer accident and neither of them even realized it at the time. Two meetings later, the cat was out of the bag and my grandfather had an “in” to an honest job. He should have been starting high school but instead he was starting a factory job. At least it wasn’t stealing or robbing. At least he was being paid for his manual labor. His first paycheck he gave to the kids he used to run with so that for just one night they wouldn’t have to resort to violence. That is the last time he saw them. He doesn’t know what became of any of them. He met his future wife and through her more doors opened. Driven by this goal to not be The Bad Guy he excelled at all the odd jobs he wound up with and after a lot of heartache and strife, wound up wealthy. Money doesn’t make you exempt from tragedy however. He lost the love of his life before the age of thirty and had to raise their three small children as a single father. Introducing my uncle to comic books is what helped keep him around when, as a teenager, Depression threatened to take him from the world. While still grieving his best friend stole millions from their business leaving him in debt. He’s faced a lot of discrimination solely due to the color of his skin… but none of it has jaded him. If anything it has only, somehow, made him kinder. He is without a doubt the best human being I have ever personally met. He hires maids and maintenance people just to pay them, serves them lunch when they arrive and lets them hang out – just to give them a day off. At eighty he does all his own housework and lawn care. He walks the neighborhood’s dogs. Even though he isn’t rich anymore he still tips fifty percent when he eats out, even at fast food joints. He doesn’t have much time to volunteer but he gives so much of his money to charities and people he runs into on the street who just need something good to happen in their day to make it to the next. And he does all of this to make up for this brief period of time in his life when, as a literal child, he had to hurt people and do bad things to survive. He still lives his life in accordance to some super hero code he picked up as a child that taught himself to read behind a school that gave up on him. Reading matters. Having something unimportant to care about is important. Small things are actually huge. They make the difference. If my grandfather’s origin story has taught me anything it’s that when you’re at your lowest moment, there’s always that one thing that can help guide you through it. “It’s just a hobby” can save lives. Reading, television, art, dancing, gaming, writing, sports, knitting, collecting, singing, whatever gives you joy. Never feel foolish for caring deeply about something commonly viewed as frivolous or a waste of time. It’s not. I cannot stress that enough. It’s okay to like things and for those things to be important to your day to day life. It’s okay.
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bitchinbarzal · 3 days ago
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Gossip | M Boldy
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summary: you can’t date a reporter when you’re an athlete without some fallout.
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Matt knew this was going to be a problem from the second he introduced you to his teammates.
It was in the way Brock’s easygoing smile turned stiff, how Kirill’s laughter quieted when you walked into the room, how Jake and Rossi exchanged wary glances behind your back. It wasn’t personal—at least, not entirely. It was about your job.
You were a writer for The Hockey Insider, an outlet notorious for gossip pieces that followed the team like a shadow. Kirill had been caught in a dating rumor that nearly wrecked his relationship. Jake’s contract negotiations had been spun into a fabricated feud with management. Rossi had once been accused of partying too hard—never mind that the supposed “wild night out” had actually been his mom’s birthday dinner.
So, when you stepped into their world, there was an unspoken question hanging in the air: Can she be trusted?
Matt had defended you — of course he had. He knew you. He knew the way you analyzed plays more than drama, how you hated the clickbait articles as much as they did. He knew you didn’t write that kind of stuff.
But the doubt still lingered.
And then he saw the text.
It wasn’t like he had meant to snoop. He was trying to find a text from himself he’d sent you important information about.
Boss: We need something on Brock. Preferably messy. Let me know what you’ve got.
Matt felt his stomach drop.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and a moment later, you walked into the room, fresh out of the shower. Your hair was damp, your skin still flushed from the heat, and you were wearing one of his old Wild hoodies — one you’d stolen months ago and never gave back.
You looked at ease, content.
Matt had never felt more off-balance.
“You need something on Brock?” His voice came out sharper than intended.
You blinked, eyebrows knitting together. “What?”
Matt turned your phone screen toward you. “Your boss. Looking for dirt on Brock.”
Your body went rigid.
Matt scoffed, shoving the phone onto the counter. “Jesus, Y/N.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What I think,” he repeated, voice rising, “is that my teammates were right to be on edge around you.”
You flinched, hurt flashing across your face. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” He let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve been defending you for months. Saying you don’t write that shit, that you wouldn’t sell us out. And now you’re sitting on a story about one of my teammates?”
You exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in your eyes. “I didn’t write anything.”
“But you were going to.”
“No,” you snapped. “I wasn’t.”
“Then why does your boss think you have something?”
Silence.
Just for a second. But it was enough.
Matt shook his head, stepping back like he didn’t even want to be near you. “Unbelievable.”
“That’s what they do, Matt,” you said finally, voice tight.
“They assume I’m sitting on something because I have access. Because I’m around you. Around them.”
Matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “And what? You just ignore them? How long before you give in?”
That’s when you laughed.
It wasn’t a happy sound. It was bitter, exhausted.
“Give in?” you echoed, shaking your head. Then you met his eyes, and for the first time, you looked tired.
Defeated, you mumbled “Matt, I quit.”
The words knocked the wind out of him.
“What?”
“I quit,” you repeated, voice thick with emotion. “Because I knew this would happen. I knew they’d want me to sell you out. And I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do that. Not to you, not to Brock, not to any of them.”
Matt felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath him.
“You—” He swallowed hard “You didn’t tell me.”
You let out a shaky breath. “I wanted to find something else first. I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”
“But it was because of me,” Matt said quietly.
You didn’t answer.
Matt dragged a hand down his face. He had spent so much time worrying about whether you would betray him that he hadn’t stopped to consider the sacrifices you had already made.
“I’m sorry” he said, voice softer now. “I should’ve trusted you”
You exhaled slowly, staring down at your phone like it physically pained you. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You should’ve.”
And with that, you turned, grabbed your phone off the counter, and walked out the door.
Matt didn’t stop you.
He wasn’t sure he had the right to.
You and Matt didn’t talk for weeks.
At first, he told himself it was for the best. You had fought, you had left, and maybe that was how things were supposed to end. But that didn’t stop him from noticing the silence. No more texts, no more calls. No more waiting for you after games, no more waking up to you stealing his hoodies.
It was stupid how much he missed you.
The guys didn’t bring you up much—not after that night when you stormed out—but Matt caught the way Brock, Kirill, Jake, and Rossi sometimes looked at him like they wanted to say something. Like they knew.
Still, he pushed it aside. Focused on hockey.
The team was in the thick of the playoff race, every game crucial. After a big win, the locker room was buzzing, laughter bouncing off the walls as guys peeled off their gear.
“Hey, check this out,” Rossi said from across the room, holding up his phone. “Hockey Weekly just put out a piece on us.”
Kirill scoffed. “If it’s that one guy again, I don’t care.”
“No, no,” Rossi said, scrolling. “This one’s actually good.” He cleared his throat and started reading:
“The Minnesota Wild aren’t just a team fighting for a playoff spot—they’re a team built on chemistry, resilience, and a camaraderie that’s impossible to fake. From Kirill Kaprizov’s dynamic playmaking to Brock Faber’s defensive reliability, from Matt Boldy’s quiet consistency to Marco Rossi’s relentless drive, this team has found a way to balance youth and experience in a way that just works.”
The guys hooted in approval.
“But beyond the stats and standings, what makes this team special is the belief they have in each other. Watch them on the ice, and you’ll see it. A team that doesn’t just play together, but plays for each other. A team that, if they keep this up, could be a real threat in the postseason.”
Rossi looked up. “Damn. Who wrote this?”
Jake leaned over, glancing at the byline. Then he froze.
Matt caught the shift in his expression immediately. “What?”
Jake turned his phone around so Matt could see the name at the top of the article.
Y/N L/N
The room went quiet.
Matt felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
He should’ve known. The writing, the insight—it was you. You had always talked about wanting to cover the game itself, not the drama. And now, even after everything, you had still found a way to do that.
And you had written about them.
Not gossip. Not rumors. Just a damn good article about their team. About the things that mattered.
Guilt settled like a weight in his chest.
“I thought you said she quit writing?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow.
Matt swallowed hard. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. Because, apparently, you hadn’t quit. You had just quit him.
“Dude,” Rossi said, shaking his head. “You gotta fix this.”
Matt sat there, staring at your name on the screen, heart pounding.
Yeah. He did.
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melioraskz · 14 hours ago
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Birthday girl (what they got you for your birthday!)
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A/N : so a couple of days ago (on the same day as a certain maknae in fact) was my birthday and I wanted to write this silly thing in celebration, however !!! God has better plans for me because I for the flu and was dead in bed for literally the entire weekend and half of this week which lead to me essentially having to postpone writing this until now !!! Funsiessss
Warnings : mentions of pet names, mentions of sex, fluffy skz
Pairings : ot8 x (fem) reader
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Chan :
Chan is a simple guy, keeping it classic, a pretty necklace with a heart on, if it was silver, gold or any other metal is simply decided depending on what you usually prefer, which he of course knows what you wear, he knows you like the inside of his glove ! Even if he knew you’d love the necklace he was probably sweating his balls off in nervousness giving it to you, his ears a pink shade whilst a big goofy smile on his mouth the entire time.
“Happy birthday, babygirl”
“Thank you, Chris”
Lee Know :
Now our guy Minho would probably give you an experience, most likely a trip to a cabin somewhere near a mountain where you two could be alone, far away from the stress of your ordinary life and a place where he can take a deep breath whilst having all his senses focused on you. You’d spend your birthday fishing, having a dinner in front of a bonfire and finishing the evening with sex in front of said bonfire, all his focus on you and only you.
“Happy birthday, y/n”
“Thank you, you really made it special, Minho”
Changbin :
Changbin is loud and doesn’t do anything halfway, he would not only host a party with all your friends and mutual friends with a giant cake for you to blow out all the one hundred candles off, but he would probably buy up a whole store for you, you’d get everything from soaps to dresses and even seven different flower bouquets! He’d be so proud too and wanting to show off how proud he is of you all night, you’re truly the star of the show.
“Changbin, honey… you already gave me flowers an hour ago?”
“So what!? I can only spoil my girl once a year like this! Happy birthday, baby”
Hyunjin :
Hyunjin would probably gift you a painting he has made himself, I mean he is an artist after all. It would be a portrait of you two, he’d use a couple photos he had on his phone for reference so the portrait is a completely unique piece which would have taken him at least a couple of months to put together into perfection! When you unwrap the painting your eyes would tear up, he really saw you this beautiful? It was perfect and would definitely be hung up in your home for all family and friends to witness how talented your amazing boyfriends is.
“It’s beautiful, thank you so much, baby”
“I’m so glad you like it, happy birthday, my love”
Jisung :
Jisung wrote you a song. It wasn’t planned to happen, he was at the studio one day, trying to compose another work for the team when his phone lit up, a message from you asking if he wanted to get dinner after your shift ended, after answering a happy yes to your suggestion he caught himself looking at his wallpaper a bit longer than usual, a photo of you two, smiling. You’re taking a selfie on his phone with a silly filter, kissing his cheek… oh he is smiling to himself and that’s when the idea hits him, of course? He had been stuck with what to get you for weeks now and he had it right in front of him! When it’s the big day and he press play you start to fully cry half way through which makes the poor boy panicking, pausing as he tries in panic to calm you down.
“I’M SO SORRY I JUST WANTED TO GIVE YOU A GOOD BIRTHDAY GIFT I’M SO SORRY I-“
“Han Jisung shut the fuck up and continue with the song before I have a mental breakdown, it’s so beautiful, thank you, I love you so much”
Felix :
Not only is Felix the only member that would actually bake you his own cake in your favourite flavour, but also would make you dinner (or takeout if he fails with the dinner as baking seems to be his strongest weapon in the kitchen). He would probably sneak into your home when you’re at work to set everything in motion, bringing bags of all the ingredients along with a huge bouquet of red roses that he would arrange in a vase of yours prettily on the dining table for you. When you come home from your work, you honestly forgot all about the special day in question he is already waiting in your kitchen, dimmed lit with candles and a romantic dinner setting whilst singing happy birthday to you.
“Happy birthday, my dear”
“Thank you… I can’t believe you made all of this!”
Seungmin :
He is a classic guy I feel, he’d also get you a piece of jewellery like chan, I feel more graduated towards earrings if you’ve got your ears pierced, something simple and pretty like pearl earrings. He would act so casually when he gift you them, like it’s nothing special but in reality he would be having a panic attack in the inside, wanting you do desperately to love his gift. After all he truly wanted this day to be perfect for you.
“They’re beautiful, seungmin! Thank you so much”
“Oh it’s nothing, I’m glad you liked them”
I.N
Now this guy would be panicking weeks ahead of your birthday, asking his members what the hell you give a girlfriend on their birthday! After everyone’s input he would eventually settle for a huge teddy bear, some of your favourite snacks along with a perfume, a scent he specifically picked out for you because he thought it would suit you. He would have forced one of his members to tag along to the mall and be his advisor for that day, both of their noses numb from all the smelling until they found the perfect one.
“Thank you so much, jeongin. I love it!”
“You love it? Really? Happy birthday!”
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