#so this is VERY self indulgent I'll admit it

[sweet-peachie]

Thinking about a yandere with a depressed darling.

A yandere who's patient with you no matter how bad it gets. On easier days, when it's just the lingering inexplicable sadness that has you staring off into space every now and then between conversations, he's quick to jump to another topic to distract your mind. When he sees your gaze lower and your brows pinch in thought, he makes your favorite meal under the guise of having been craving it himself. When you're both sitting on the couch and he sees your leg bounce, your fingers trembling against your thighs - he feigns tiredness and leans against you to 'absentmindedly' take your hand in his.

A yandere that on harder days, ones where you can't even muster up the energy to get up from your shared bed, stays there with you for hours on end. Arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your hair. If you're lying down, he'll let you rest against his chest and listen to the sound of his heartbeat - the soft sound lulling you into a state of calm. If you're sitting up, he'll keep his arms around you and gently rock the both of you back and forth, keeping his weight pressed against you to keep you grounded. You enjoy silence? No problem, he finds the quiet peaceful too. You need background noise to distract yourself from your thoughts? He's going on and on about anything and everything he can think of.

He tries his best to only leave your side for absolute necessities at the start of these periods. He knows that taking care of you when you're down makes you feel guilty, so he never makes it seem like he's only doing something just for you (even if he knows he is).

He's feeling pretty hungry. No worries though, he'll just go ahead and order some food from that restaurant you both (read: you) like. No, you don't have to get up from the bed to get it from the door, he needed to use the bathroom anyway so he'll just grab it on his way back!

(He was never really hungry. Hell, he could survive off of the smell of you alone if he could. But he'd be damned if you didn't get at least one full meal in today.)

A yandere that never judges you for your lack of motivation to take care of yourself sometimes. You don't feel like you can take a shower today? That's perfectly fine, a missed shower or two never hurt anyone! You felt too drained to brush your teeth before you went to sleep? That's alright, he's feeling pretty tired too so you're both in the same boat! Even if you're someone who prefers to eat in bed because you don't have the energy to eat at the dining table, he doesn't mind one bit. Crumbs aren't an issue for him, and having to wash the sheets is only a small sacrifice to make sure you're comfortable. Hell, if you didn't feel so iffy about it he'd even feed you if you asked.

A yandere that never in his wildest dreams would ever shame you for something you can't control. But, he does care about your health, of course, so he wouldn't allow you to skip too many days of hygiene without stepping in. One of his favorite things to do with you is shared self-care. If you don't take a shower that day, you can both just take one together the following day. He takes great care in washing you off, lathering your hair in your favorite scented shampoo and conditioner before turning around and letting you do the same to him. If you don't feel like brushing your teeth or washing your face that night, that's perfectly fine, he's already setting up a playlist for you two to dance to in front of the mirror when you both get it done tomorrow instead.

A yandere that, although he makes sure you're comfortable during your more difficult days, still wants to help you gradually recover. If your lack of motivation and tiredness spans over a few days or more, he'll slowly but surely coax you out of bed. First it starts out small, like using the restroom or grabbing something from the other side of the room. And then it moves on to leaving the room entirely, getting you to stay outside for longer and longer intervals until the emptiness is finally pushed to the back of your mind once again - dormant until the next time it rears its ugly head. But that's okay. Progress is slow, and it's far from perfect. And he'll tell you just how proud he is that you've taken a step further, no matter how small it may seem.

A yandere that doesn't consider you a burden for the way you feel. Who doesn't ask what caused your mood, even if the shift was sudden. Who doesn't judge you when you fall back into old habits (now, with larger intervals in between) - your hair getting tangled, your skin oily and your clothes stained. Because no matter what he'll be there with you every step of the way, and he'll happily help you up again and again.

[sysig]

Everything falls into place so nicely when they’re together (Patreon)

[butmakeitgayblog]

How's the canon fic going?

It's going good! I've got a squee read through who liked it and said it was very true to character which was a huge relief. Right now I have my hawk eyes on it so theu can catch my terrible grammar 🥴. Sorry for the wait but hopefully you'll think it's worth it 🤞

[mariasont]

Bumper to Bumper - A.H

a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)

warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 800

"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.

Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt. 

Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"

You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"

"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"

Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"  

"I'm fine, it's silly."

"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"

"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."

"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.

You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.

The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.

He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."

He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit. 

As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."

He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder. 

A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"

Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."

You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind. 

You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"

Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Promise."

Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"

As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.

Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.

You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."

[russellsppttemplates]

i love how you write all your readers being employed misses! maybe Franco surprising his girlfriend at work when he knows she's really overwhelmed with a lot of work

Note: this is very self indulgent after the week I just had

"I'll see you tonight, handsome - I'm not sure when I'll get back, but hopefully in time for us to make something for dinner" was the last thing Franco heard from you when he got back from his workout, seeing you put on your work backpack, carrying another big file and a totebag full of toys and activities.

The routine was back and this was one of the busiest times of the year for you, so while he understood the demands of your job, he also knew how quickly it could get too much and how it took you even longer to admit that you were overwhelmed.

Getting ready to go out, your boyfriend showered and left the apartment, a to-do list in his notes app that he wanted to complete before lunch time. The market was open today, so he stopped at the different spots he needed to get everything he wanted, packing them into his car and driving to your workplace.

You were updating the patient files, detailing what happened in the sessions when you noticed your lunchtime approaching, hastening your writing as you were hoping yo have the full break before going back for a full afternoon.

"Hello, good morning!", you recognised the all too familiar accent down the hall, "Is Y/N still in her office?".

As you heard the receptionist say yes, you walked to meet them at the front, shaking your head in disbelief as you watched your boyfriend stand there, big smile on his face as soon as he spotted you, "Hi, mi amor".

"Hello, Fran", you smiled back, "what brings you here? We're closed for new bookings, I'm afraid".

"It's a good thing then, because I came here to whisk you away for lunch - at what time do you have your next appointment?", he asked.

Before you could answer, the repeceptionist was quick to speak, "three o'clock!", getting a playful side eye from you, "Y/N, it's called a lunch break because you shouldn't do any work during that time! Go and enjoy it, please!".

Accepting it and realising you needed a break, you went back to your office to make sure everything was tidy and organised before being escorted out, bidding the receptionist goodbye as she, too, was going home for her break.

"Thank you for taking me out of there", you began as you let Franco guide you along the sidewalk, "it was getting a bit too much and I could feel myself start to flip out".

"I noticed these past couple of days you have come home very tired, and you're trying to put on a big, brave face and you don't need to. In there", he pointed in the direction of your workplace, "I get it that you have to seem fine but at home, with me, you can be vulnerable and feel everything else, okay?", he offered.

The love you felt for him grew even bigger in that moment as you stopped for a moment, kissing his lips and hugging his waist so you could continue on your way, "thank you, I love you so much", you mumbled.

"We're getting the food from the car, because there is a very nice park around here and I want us to enjoy your break outside with fresh food!", he smiled, taking out a bag and lacing your hand back in his.

You found a table that was vacant and spread out all of the fresh food Franco brought, "the lady at the market said it was fresh baked this morning, and I know you love bread and olives", he said non chalantly as you exaggerated a moan at how good the food was.

Franco sat next to you and you quickly cuddled up to him, enjoying the feeling of comfort he was providing you. This was your space to be yourself, insecurities, vulnerabilities and all.

"This was a good idea, no?", Franco asked, pecking the side of your head.

"Yes, thank you so much, love", you smiled, snuggling closer to him, "I needed to get away from that desk".

"You can always count on me to do that, amor, always", he squeezed you against his body.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[x-reader-theater]

Secret Messages from a Lover

summary: While you're streaming, your boyfriend sends you a message.

pairing: Corpse Husband x Gender Neutral Reader (no pronouns are used.)

word count: 670

warnings: none.

a/n: i really just needed to write something so self-indulgent because god i want this so bad. i figured others want it too. i've been so depressed lately that I just need a little fantasy, you know? my requests are open, and you can find my request rules here.

“God, that video is so fucking funny,” you say, pulling your blanket around your shoulders tighter with one hand while the other brings your patterned tumbler with the sparkly straw up to your mouth, so you can drink your water. Your knees pull further up to your chest, which is easily done in your very spacious gaming chair. “OTV never fucking misses.”

You press a button on your stream deck, switching from the video you were just watching to your face, with chat scrolling in the top left-hand corner. You take another sip from your tumbler and pick out one of the comments passing by, scrolling to stop it from moving as you read it aloud.

“Were you on the newest Fear& episode? I was. QT, Hasan, Will, and I just kinda chatted for a bit. That was a good fucking episode, though,” you say with a grin. “Love those guys. QT especially, she’s fucking hilarious. She makes me laugh so fucking hard whenever I talk to her, even if we disagree on Taylor Swift.”

You keep scrolling back down, so you can keep seeing the comments when another one jumps out at you. “Are you gonna keep streaming? Yeah, chatter, I actually just started before that OTV video. I think Toast is gonna invite me to some Pico Park today? If not, I’ll just play some Valorant or something to pass the time. I gotta git good if I wanna beat, well, anyone,” you admit with a laugh, hiding your shame by taking another drink of water.

You see your phone light up in front of you. It’s a Discord notification, which you quickly check on your second monitor, assuming it’s Toast inviting you to the Discord call.

It’s not. It’s your boyfriend, Corpse.

“You look so cute today babe. You look so cosy wrapped up in your blanket and your smile is so bright. I'll never get tired of seeing it. I love you and have a good stream 🖤”

You feel your cheeks heat up at that, and you take a sip of your water to try and hide your reaction. You haven’t told anyone you're dating Corpse yet, and you have no plans on it any time soon, but he makes you so happy you find it hard not to blurt it out whenever you can.

You send back a bunch of yellow hearts and an “I love you too!!!!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛”, biting your lip as you type on your very satisfying, clack-y keyboard.

That’s when you get the notification from Toast to join the shared call.

“Ah! Toast’s calling!” you exclaim for the benefit of your audience.

You quickly join the call, the connection sound filling you comfortable, over the ear headphones.

“Hey! What’s up!” you say into the call, getting a couple of “Hey!”’s and “Hello!”’s back.

Then you hear a familiar voice say, “What’s up.”

“Corpse!” You’re grinning at this point as you continue, “I didn't know you were gonna be playing!”

“Uh, yeah. Toast invited me last minute. Surprise?” he says like it’s a bad thing.

“We haven’t played anything together in a while and I saw him online and thought, ‘Fuck it,’ yaknow?” Toast asks and you chuckle.

“Well, it’s good to talk to you again, Corpse,” you say, setting your tumbler down on your desk. He got you that tumbler for your birthday not long ago, and it’s your favourite thing you own. He also got you the blanket that’s wrapped around your shoulders for your six-month anniversary, and it’s the warmest blanket in your house. You always wear it when you stream because the A/C is always blasting.

“It’s good to talk to you too,” you say, shivering as your heart hammers at his words.

You begin loading up Pico Park, just listening to everyone talk to each other, when you get another notification on Discord.

“I love you 🖤” it says.

“I love you too 💛” you reply, smiling into the camera for just a moment, just for him.

[finalgirllx]

Mattheo Riddle - Gamer BF Headcanons

minors dni | smut implied at the end | F! reader implied modern au | this is so self-indulgent im sorry

-Mattheo gets very into online gaming with his friends, often being the loud and rowdy one who cracks dirty jokes on voice chat. -he isn't very good at multiplayer, though, but will never admit it. 'Definitely a glitch. those kills are way off. No way Enzo got more than me; he didn't do shit! This game has it out for me, I swear.' -he enjoys single-player games as well as a pastime. -loves horror games, zombie horror, to be precise (self-indulgent HC: he's a resident evil fan). -In a relationship, Mattheo encourages you to play games. He is your biggest cheerleader when he watches you play. 'You've got this, darling.' -He would be willing to play a cozy game with you, but somehow, it always devolves into chaos. You will probably quit inviting him for the sake of your Stardew Valley saves. -He often takes over when you game together, but more because he just likes to play for the two of you and not because he thinks you're bad! -Mattheo used to have a worse temper during gaming, but one stern look from you, the one and only time you witnessed him throw his controller, was enough to make him never do it again. -His happiest moments involve taking control when a horror game gets too spooky for you, allowing you to rest on him while he takes charge—a win-win situation. 'Don't worry, love. I'll protect you, just relax.' -He adores it when you nestle in and nap between his legs while he games. His tender side really comes out then, playing with your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear between games and loading screens. -Thoroughly enjoys your attempts to trash-talk him, which usually turns into cheeky flirtations and most likely a quickie. -Mattheo is very fun to tease while gaming. Put your hands on him, and he'll have to insist to his friends that he was moaning over Theo's voice and not your hand on his- -Will not hesitate to mute his mic and fuck your face while he stays online. His large hand grips your hair into a ponytail as he roughly pumps your mouth with his cock, grunting and panting. 'fucking take my cock, you little slut; this is what you fucking asked for by playing with daddy like that.' -And if he doesn't take that route, be warned that if you tease him while he's playing, you better count on not being able to walk the next day.

[choccorin]

light rain | ft. sakura

tags. fluff , sakura haruka x gn! reader, maybe ooc 'kura?

at the early stages of your relationship, sakura never knew that you get sick very easily and he found this out when you were going on a light stroll.

sakura was on break from patrolling when he saw you shopping for some things at a store, since he was on break, he offered to walk you home and you happily accepted.

while he was walking you from, it started to rain a little bit. you knew that you'd get sick even at the tiniest bit of rain, so you told him to hurry up.

once you arrive to your apartment, you were both a bit wet from the rain. so before he left, you offer him your umbrella. he declined at first saying he doesn't need it but you insisted, you explained that you didn't want your boyfriend to be sick. he turns red at the nickname, he accepts your umbrella with a blushing face.

it was now the next day, sakura thought it was weird that you didn't go to school today, you didn't even tell him why. he got a little sad that you didn't tell him but he's never admit that. he's getting worried so he decided to call you.

his phone rings and you immediately pick up.

“hey, you okay?” he says on the phone, he was expecting you to respond but got confused when he heard coughing and sniffling instead,

“are you sick?!” he yells with a worried tone, surprising his friends beside him.

you sniffle, “yeah .. the light rain caught to me yesterday ...” you chuckle, cringing at the sound of your hoarse voice.

“okay, i'll be right there.” sakura replied, suddenly ending the call.

“huh- what?” you were left shocked, looking at your phone. did you hear him correctly? he's coming over to your place?!

sakura rushed out pothos café, explaining to his friends — just as shocked as you were — that he had something to do before running out.

in just 5 minutes, your door bell rang. you hurriedly open the door to find sakura in front of your door, panting while holding a small bag.

“you actually cough came .. ” you were also out of breath, you sheepishly smile at him.

“wha- what are you doing out of bed, dumbass!?” he pulls in you to your apartment, closing the door behind him. his grip on your wrist is firm — but gentle.

he sits you on your bed, “stay here. i-i'll take care of you, okay?” his hands on your shoulders were trembly and he looks nervous, this is his first time taking care of someone and being inside your apartment, of course he was nervous.

he walks out your room and you here some clattering in your kitchen, you wanted to get up but you don't want to disobey your already stressed boyfriend.

you didn't want him to see you all vulnerable like this but you were glad that he came just to take care of you, seeing him all worried about you made your heart melt and also made you feel a bit better.

sakura comes back with a bowl of soup, water and some medicines. he tells you to eat, explaining that kotoha gave it to him before he ran out of the café.

“give kotoha my thanks then. ” your voice sounds weak and softer than usual.

sakura doesn't like seeing you being weak like this, it makes him want to protect you like your some kind of hurt cat.

sakura meant it when he said he'll take care of you since he went home at 6 am, never leaving your side. it was the next day and still early but he had classes and patrolling so you offered him to go now, after a lot of reassuring him that you're better now, he leaves.

sakura never carries any umbrellas with him, his body is used to getting drenched in rain anyways. but this changed when he saw how sick you were that day, so now, he always carries an umbrella so that in case you forget yours — which you often do — and it looks like it's going to rain, he'll give it to you.

he might not say that he loves you by his words, but his actions say otherwise.

n. this is self indulgent. i get sick very easily so i thought about sakura being worried about his sickly lover <3

t. @kyoghurts hi :3

[scarletwinterxx]

i might just love you 'til the end - joshua hong imagine

i admit this is very self indulgent, it's my bday and i wanted to write this so here we are🥺🥺😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

A cold bed is not something you expected you'd wake up to on the morning of your birthday. Usually you'd wake up with your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you like your own personal weighted blanket but that wasn't the case today thus prompting you to get up and go look around the house for the said missing boyfriend.

Thinking he might've went to the gym so you didn't expect to see him until later but then you hear some noises coming from the kitchen and some music playing.

Making your way downstairs and to the kitchen, you see Joshua standing with his back to you while holding a spatula in one hand. Too lost in his own world, humming along the tune of Sunday Morning playing in the background.

You smile as you walk towards him, catching him off guard when he suddenly feel a pair of arms hug him from behind.

"Hey, you. You're up early" he says, looking around to catch a glimpse of you

You cuddle against his back, seeking the warmth you missed this morning. He lets you be, knowing how clingy you get when you're sleepy. He doesn't mind it one bit when you sleep on him or fall alseep when you're with him. To him it's an honor, knowing you feel safe around him to fall asleep quickly after you told him you used to struggle with that before meeting him.

Feeling content with the quiet surrounding, he gently sways back and forth as he finishes the stack of pancakes with you still clinging to him.

"You weren't there so I woke up" you mumbled after a while, earning a chuckle from him

"Sorry, I wanted to make us breakfast. I was going to take it up to you but since you're already here, let me set up the table after I finish with the pancakes"

"I'll do it, you finish here" you tell him, giving him a final squeeze before separating from him. Before you can walk away, he grabs you by the arm making you crash back into his awaiting arms

He looks down at you with a smile, eyes locking with your eyes "Happy birthday, my darling"

You grin at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips "Thank you, baby"

"Oh and I got you flowers, that's not my main gift I'll give that later but I hope you like them" he says as he grab the bouquet from the table to pass it to you

"Josh, these are so pretty" you coo at him, "Thank, baby. Really. You don't have to get me anything but I appreciate all the effort, you really do know how to make this day extra special"

"How can I not when my most favorite person is born today. I'm just so happy to be celebrating this day with you"

You put the flowers down to give him another hug, Joshua does the same. Wrapping his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. He can hear your giggles, the sound making all the butterflies erupt in his stomach. He really truly is deeply in love with you.

"You're my favorite person too. I'm so thankful for you" you tell him

He gives your cheeks and your nose kisses before kissing you on the lips, smiling as he takes your breath away like he always does whenever he kisses you.

"Tell me what you want, name it. Anything"

"Really? Anything?"

"Mhm, what do you have in mind?" he asks, noticing the cheeky look in your eyes

"If I say I want to celebrate all of my birthdays like this, us in our kitchen cooking breakfast"

He looks at you, your future together already unfolding in his mind. Of course there's no one else he can imagine spending the rest of his life with but you.

He leans down, capturing your lips once again before answering you

"Consider it done, I'm yours forever my darling"

You smile hearing him say the word forever. For him, you'd believe it actually exists. You'd use all your birthday wishes just to make sure you're going to stay right where you are right now.

"Get ready for a whole day of romantic gestures and all out cheesiness because I'm only getting started" he jokes, putting you down before getting back to cooking

"Wouldn't celebrate this day any other way"

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024 

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,��� it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 

And then Paige looks away. 

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 

***

July 2024 

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 

Click. 

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 

***

December 2024 

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 

“Say it again,” Paige demands. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

[saintsenara]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I absolutely love your metas! You’re not only clearly a very talented writer but also blessed with such great insight into these characters that my dopamine levels always jump to absolute heights with every new post. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and being a real gem in this fandom ❤️

Also, because I couldn’t find any post (or did I miss it?) about specifically Harry/Snape (without a third person added to the mix) I would love to read your thoughts on it. Either romantically or gen, after the war, where Snape lives. Thank you so much for indulging me :)

thank you very much for the [exceptionally lovely] ask, anon!

snarry is definitely a popular request...

... so let's get into it!

[and let's also get out of the way that i do not back snamione as a pairing. you can find out why here.]

while they're by no means my otp - and while i'll admit to preferring both snape and harry paired up with lord voldemort - i have long dabbled in a bit of snarry, particularly because it's a ship which attracts astonishingly talented writers. and - in particular - astonishingly talented writers who think really subtly, intelligently, and creatively about life and love and all the questions therein. i'm always really struck by the nuance with which both snape and harry are treated in so many snarry fics, and i much prefer that to the more one-note treatment each character gets elsewhere in the fandom.

and - of course - why snarry works so well as a ship is because it has such a solid justification in both harry and snape's canon characterisation - and because this compatibility is made all the more interesting by the layer of conflict caused by snape and harry's mutually antagonistic relationship. harry adores the half-blood prince - looks up to him so much, in fact, that he genuinely wonders if the man was his father - because they're intellectually compatible, have similar senses of humour, have similarly self-serving aspects to their moral codes, and have a shared reactivity and emotional volatility. the text emphasises this frequently, most explicitly when hermione tells harry in half-blood prince that he doth protest too much:

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn’t notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn’t he use another guinea pig for a change? What’s Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff - " "Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

harry is also willing to acknowledge these similarities himself, sometimes. he empathises with - and even, occasionally, respects - snape well before the conclusion of deathly hallows, and - crucially - does this on his own terms. him refusing to dismiss his disgust at his father's treatment of snape in snape's worst memory in order not to make sirius or lupin feel awkward is incredibly impressive - and is something i don't think he gets enough credit for.

and since one of the things which makes me a member of both tomarrymort and snapemort nation is harry's instinctive understanding of how voldemort's childhood affected him and voldemort's understanding of how snape's childhood affected him, this is something i think provides a fascinating seam for authors to mine when writing about snape and harry together.

similarly, post-war, i think snarry is one of the best pairings for exploring how both harry and snape come to terms with the realisation that - no matter how well it all worked out in the end - they were both pawns in a larger game. i think that snape is, really, the only person in harry's life who could ever come close to appreciating what it means to have dumbledore send you out to [nearly] die - and i also think, because the man is always at the forefront of my mind, that snape is one of the few people in harry's life who can appreciate the fact that harry, as much as he also hated and feared him, was impressed by, sympathised with, and wanted to help voldemort.

snarry is also an incredibly compelling ship for thinking about power, and how both harry and snape understand it. i wouldn't care about the age difference, or the fact that snape and harry's acquaintance is established while harry is a child and snape is his teacher, even if the dynamic between them could only ever be heavily unbalanced in snape's favour, because these are fictional people. but i'm often struck by how interestingly snarry writers deal with snape being someone who views himself, inherently, as a supplicant - and who therefore ends up offering harry the upper hand in their dynamic [whether this is platonic or otherwise] despite the fact that he is the younger partner. snape's capacity for destructive devotion and self-subordination is one of his most fascinating canon characteristics - and snarry is one of the best vehicles for exploring this.

indeed, the canonical snape clearly regards harry as someone who possesses power over him. his complaints about harry being rich, spoiled, and arrogant make clear that he considers harry to be the second coming of the dynamic he had with james [with it never seeming to occur to him that this is an absurd thing for an adult teacher to think about their pupil], while his complaints about harry's fame are because he views harry as an inherent insider [someone with a pureblood surname and the money to prove it] to the wizarding world while he himself is an outcast. this can cause some exquisite toxicity - especially when snape, who tends to view every interaction he has though a win-lose lens and who becomes incredibly nasty in both victory and defeat, is proven right, having insisted to harry that the wizarding world won't like its golden hero getting railed by a tenuously-acquitted death eater.

but it can also result in something surprisingly beautiful. harry likes to save people, after all, and snape would - deep down - very much to be saved.

and one way he can do this is by offering snape the forgiveness for his role in lily's death which it's clear the canonical snape refuses to accept he might be entitled to. and, in doing this, the pairing draws out a theme which i am obsessed with - that there is a lost generation, whose ghosts haunt the characters alive in the canon timeline. no matter how negative his opinion on james and sirius and so on is, by virtue of knowing them, snape provides harry with a connection to a world he would be a stranger to otherwise, while harry provides snape with a mooring in the present which makes dealing with the weight of the past - and processing the fact that he's virtually the only person he knew as a teenager who's still alive - easier.

i also think that fucking your enemy's nephew is iconic, and snape and petunia meeting again in a scenario in which he's harry's boyfriend is a concept that sustains me.

[velvet-games]

in the middle of working on a lucifer redesign :)

thoughts/explanations + minor character analysis under the cut (this was supposed to be short but it ended up being very thorough lmao):

honestly love his canon design so I'm kind of working from that more than I'm trying to rethink stuff from scratch

I'm gonna admit right now that a lot of the design choices were very self indulgent lol; I just want him to be pretty :<

circus stuff~

I've seen a lot of people raise their eyebrows at the circus motif, so I was going to try something different, but I actually think it makes a lot of sense!

I think freakshows/circus acts have been tied to this idea that certain identities/abilities are strange and shameful, only valuable as dehumanizing entertainment -- they're mistakes, freaks of nature

but at the same time many circus performances require a lot of skill and work and love that can go unappreciated, each and every performer at the very least a person worth respecting

I think lucifer sees hell as a freakshow/circus he's been forced to lead and try to control

a bunch of wayward toys meant to be bright and beautiful that have been twisted into something terrifying

and he needs to discover a more empathetic, appreciative, and loving way to think about sinners

and also to realize that it's not about him or his mistakes; it's about a group of people with their own emotions and autonomy that he needs to respect

anyway

all that to say: we're keeping the circus ringleader thing!

I think a whip would make more sense for a ringleader, esp since alastor has a staff already (but they're enemies/foils so maybe their designs should reflect each other?)

there's room to turn the whip into a snake maybe

in the pic I made it look like his tail bc I considered making his actual tail a goat tail (cute! but the longer one suits him better I think)

maybe an apple on the top/handle still

the tux honestly looks a little too formal/cool for him most of the time lmao

so I think he should take off the jacket/have the toymaker apron on instead unless he's fighting

vaudeville doll~

lucifer has a lot going on tbh: circus ringleader, angel, devil/demon, snake, goat, vaudeville porcelain doll, toymaker, etc.

I think I'm gonna take out snake just to simplify a little, but I'll talk about that more later

I was also going to take out porcelain doll but

1) the rosy cheeks are super cute

2) fits with the circus theme

3) fits with the idea that he's both a toy and toymaker (an angel that tried to play god)

uhhh there's a couple self indulgent doodles of him in a vaudeville doll dress lol. not relevant to the design at all; I just like drawing stripes and ruffles

I ended up making him sort of androgynous in a lot of ways? (not that he wasn't already lol) which works for him I think

part of it was the vaudeville doll thing; I wanted to give him (keep?) the eyeshadow and add those little vertical marks you see on them sometimes

also because I really liked the puff sleeves in one of the references I used; it kind of emphasizes an extended hourglass shape with the puffy pants

plus I love drawing the more classic tuxedo shape <3 very yummy lines and details

hair/shape~

I fucking LOVE when people draw him with messy hair, so I made that permanent

I also think (esp since he's blond) having the hair stick out in tufts kind of makes it look like a star (morningstar, lightbringer, etc. etc.)

even more so with the pointy horns (those are also fun to draw cause they're right in the corners of his widow's peak)

I drew a random triangle on one of these as a reminder to keep the pointy/triangular shape language throughout lol

squares would def be wrong with the implications of sturdiness and stability

I think circles would be wrong too? he's vulnerable and ultimately very soft inside so I kept a lot of round lines, but I don't think he's the traditionally bubbly/friendly/peaceful archetype circles are usually used for

triangles are apparently dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable, which is a little closer to what I'm going for

(shape language is a very flexible rule btw; I'm not saying they determine everything about a character or that one shape has to mean exactly one thing)

he's also a depressed, tortured soul, so I feel like he should look just a little unhinged and exhausted <3 (hence the eyebags on top of the messy hair)

angel stuff~

(sidenote: cherub and seraph are singular, cherubim and seraphim are plural. even the show gets this wrong tho, so feel free to say whatever ig)

I'm pretty sure most people agree lucifer was probably a cherub? cherubim only have 4 wings so I might go with that

I do think it makes more sense if he's higher ranking like a seraph tho ... it's hard to decide whether to go with the show's ideas about angels or actual religious texts cause both are interesting in their own ways

snake~

ARHHGHJF idk how I feel about his nose

again I thought about taking out the snake motif, but he honestly looks good w/o a nose (I mean it's there obviously but you can't see it if it's just snake slits lol), and I definitely like the idea of him having a forked tongue or his eyes turning into slits when he's angry

also also

mini rant on animal motifs in hazbin:

I get the impression that a lot of people think it's a bad thing that you can't tell what animal a character should be? and/or that a motif has to be clearly present in the entire design to be good

and I kind of just accepted that until I started thinking about ozzie's design from helluva boss

like the original demon he's based on is really just that fucked up and mixed with animals you can't always identify

and chinese dragons are like a billion different animals even though they sort of just look like lizards at the end of the day

like obviously if you want the audience to associate a character with a specific animal (like if you want people to think a character's spooky because they're a spider or something), then you do want the animal motifs to be clear/consistent

but sometimes you just want certain elements there and it doesn't matter if the audience picks up on it (at least consciously)

and I think with someone like lucifer, having a lot of animals/concepts mixed together in an ungodly combination makes sense lol

so idk

maybe we'll just give him the nose/tongue

I did try just giving him a button nose in some of these for the doll thing tho

goat/charlie~

urgh I hate realizing I should've designed certain characters together lol

I took out the rosy cheeks in my original charlie design since I wasn't thinking about lucifer, so I put them back in this time lol (and generally thought about how they should be visually related)

I like that it enforces the idea that charlie's lucifer's creation (toymaker makes a doll in his own image yk)

also they both have puff sleeves now :) (charlie's design is basically princess dress silhouette but make it a suit)

I also gave her goat ears, so I figured lucifer should have them too? idk because I like the way his hair looks a lot better without them, and I kind of like the idea of giving them diff combinations of goat features (maybe she should have a goat tail?)

also drawing this made me realize I have no idea why charlie has a puppy nose??? I thought it was the goat thing for some reason but that doesn't make any sense

maybe I'll just give her no nose

anyway! fucking incredible if you read all of that; idk what possessed me to write so much about a half-finished design lol. feel free to leave suggestions/answers to the questions I had!

[futurecorps3]

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

A/N: I just needed to get the Henry brainrot out there so this is very, very, very self indulgent and personal. I'll write quality shit for him later. This is just a fic about him and me which is poorly written and has basically no plot.

"Will you stop clicking that god darned pen already, Y/L/N? It's getting on my nerves" Bunny whisper-yelled while you all sat in the library. Henry shooting daggers at him was enough for him to mumble a little "sorry" and to shut up about the pen for good. Y/N giggled a quietly and went on with her translation, squeezing Henry's hand under the table as a 'thank you'.

He knew she sometimes had trouble staying put, unlike all the others, so toying with her pen helped. Francis, Camilla, Charles and her boyfriend thought it was comforting; like the soft click clack click click clack of typewriters. As always, Edmund seemed to be the only one bothered by something they all liked.

"Póte févgoume?" Y/N's boyfriend was asking him when were they leaving for the date they were having that day "Pénte triánta" she answered five thirty. Now, they knew communicating in Greek was risky, but they had no other way of keeping the secret without having to find explanations for their seemingly sudden closeness.

Plus, the only two people who understood spoken Greek were them. Unless their friends were as nosy as to go fetch a Greek dictionary, they were safe. Surprisingly, Henry had insisted on watching a movie called 'Christine'. He overheard some people talking about how good it was the other day in the dining hall and asked you to go watch it with him. ("As a date?" "Yes, as a date, darling"). Now, all they had to do was coordinate their exit from the library and drive to the movies.

She had to admit sneaking around thrilled her to no end, knowing well how Henry was perceived in everyone's eyes; stoic, emotionless, cunning, pretentious and wickedly smart. Y/N knew all those things were true, but after the night he half drunkenly confessed her his love at the lake house, she was acquainted with a tender side of Henry Winter.

Henry's gestures of affection were often subtle. A soft smile shared across a crowded room, a gentle touch on her shoulder when he thought no one was watching, or the way he would quietly check in on her during late nights of studying. Sometimes, late into the night, they would take long walks through the silent campus, hand in hand. Henry's normally sharp and analytical mind seemed to take a break, and he would simply listen as Y/N talked about her hopes and dreams.

Y/N cherished these glimpses of tenderness from Henry. They were like rare treasures, hidden beneath the layers of his scholarly exterior. She realized that, beneath the enigmatic facade, there was a person who could be caring, loving, and deeply connected. These moments of vulnerability made their relationship all the more special, and she was grateful to be the only one to witness them.

She was pulled from her thoughts at him letting go of her hand and getting up, causing the loud screeching of his wooden chair against the floor to flood the library. "I'll get going" he said, putting away his books "You're not even halfway done" said Francis without lifting his gaze from whatever Latin he was writing "I need to revise some texts with Julian, I'll finish it later" he finished, leaving in quick but confident steps.

After about five minutes, Y/N asked for the time and pretended to be late for a meeting with her girlfriends, leaving hurriedly as well. She noticed some funny looks but bypassed them and made a beeline towards the bottom of the stairs of the large building; Henry waiting with a cigarette while leaning into the hard stone of the railings. Without looking at her, he offered his hand and put out his smoke after feeling her engulf it.

"Five dollars you won't stand the film and we'll leave halfway through" she smiled, looking at him teasingly. "You're on, Y/N/N".

Y/N was five dollars richer that day as they walked to his house where she's be crashing for the third week now. Her dorm room was pretty much empty now, only her wall decorations, clothes she didn't like much, and some stationary remained inside with a tiny layer of dust covering it.

"It was fun!" "It was totally ridiculous... It's my fault, I shouldn't have listened to those ignorant pieces of-" "Henry?" A strident voice along with a little incredulous snicker came from behind and at that moment they knew their little facade was over.

Edmund Corcoran was not going to blackmail them to keep the secret.

They walked hand in hand to class the next day, not caring to explain anything to their friends. "What is that about?" asked Charles with a smile "Isn't it obvious?" said Henry, and Julian swore he could see the faintest hint of a smile. <3

[sakasakiii]

a while ago in june of last year i posted this sketch dump and received a very wonderful ask from @mochamai wherein the mysterious ghost hand to the left of maedhros was brought to attention..... i hv seized this opportunity to do these very self indulgent doodles of Melkor who (loathe as i am to admit it) is the individual that hand belongs to 😭😭

HEAR ME OUT OK. it was just supposed to be a random hand right. i had drawn it with normal nails and everything!!! BUT THEN. then. i was on pinterest browsing character design inspiration and i found the infamous stained dark claw hand (if you know you know) and i realised it was my one chance to actually incorporate it into my silm designs... then i considered who would fit it and all i could think of was post-silmaril morgoth.... and here we are :((((

anyways ive been kinda busy these past two months BUT i used this chance to squeeze in some anatomy practice so errrrr dont ask me why he's shirtless in most of these..... i will only speak in the presence of my attorney........

thank you again for taking the time to ask though!!!!! ❤️❤️ i really really do like your original interpretation of the hand (i'll post the original picture below if anyone is curious) belonging to Maedhros in Mandos-- especially since it kinda matches up lorewise doesnt it....!!! it means a lot that youd take the time to look at it in such detail waaaaa <3333 maybe some new mae doodles are in order to make up for it 😚😚 soon!!!

^ the aforementioned hand dun dun dunnnn

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ᝰ ☕︎ 📂 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

⤳ synopsis: Nanami asks you to come into work tomorrow for overtime, but it’s supposed to be your day off.

genre: smut

⤳ a/n: got inspired by an animated clip in twt….I can’t find it though :(

⤳ tags: power dynamics, backshots (me next nanami), praise, vulgar, explicit, office sex-

⤳ wrd cnt: 1.9k

You sat down in your crummy office chair, staring at the mountain of paperwork ahead of you. It was the most interesting site in your boring middle office, view covered with the big cinder block building that no one rented. All you could think about was the fact that tomorrow was supposed to be your day off. Supposed to.

You had been looking forward to a relaxing evening, catching up on all your half watched shows and indulging in some much-needed self care.

However, as usual, your boss Nanami had other plans. You could hear his voice over the little radio in your office phone, calling you into his office for a moment.

You sighed, knowing that it was probably another project that needed to be finished urgently.

You walk into him staring at his laptop with a look of overwhelmed dread. 
“Y/n, I know tomorrow is supposed to be your day off, but I was hoping you could come in for some overtime, it’s much needed” he said casually, leaning back in his chair.
You couldn't help but feel a rush of annoyance. You were scared your eye was about to start twitching infront of him.

This wasn't the first time he had asked you to sacrifice your time off for work, and you were beginning to feel resentful towards him. But as soon as you opened your mouth to protest, he continued.
“I know it's asking a lot, but I promise it'll be worth it. I can't do this project without you. And besides, I'll make it up to you,” he added with a charming smile.

That walking company credit card better get you some pad thai, at the very least. 
You looked into his eyes and felt all your resolve weakening. You knew you couldn't resist the allure of his persuasive words and his stupid handsome face. And deep down, you were a little curious about what he meant by 'making it up to me.'
Maybe a raise? 
“Okay, I understand.” you reluctantly agreed, trying to sound firm but failing.
“Great, I'll see you tomorrow night then,” he said, giving you a smile before he saw you out.

The rest of tomorrow was quite dull, there really was no one but you, your boss, and a few strangling assistants trying to keep up with agendas and filings.

It was finally 6pm, and your overtime started.

You made your way to Nanami’s office with most of your belongings and the rest of the stack of papers you had procrastination on the day before.

Before you had a chance to knock on his office door, it swung open with Nanami inches away from your face, quickly backing up, startled.

'Y/n- Sorry, I was just about to go get you. Please, have a seat,” Kento said as he closed the door behind him. “I appreciate you staying late to help me with this. You've been a great asset to the department”.

You blushed and mumbled a thank you, feeling flustered by his words. You had to admit, as much as your boss annoyed you from time to time. You truly looked up to him, and a compliment from Kento made you feel much more confident about your capabilities. But as you looked up at him, you noticed the way he was staring at you.

It wasn't just appreciation, it was something more. “I have to admit,” Kento continued, walking behind and around your seated form to plop down into his desk chair across from you. “I've been watching you. Your dedication to your work ethic, your intelligence….your beauty. I've expected a lot from you, and I’m glad I was right to do so.”

You were at a loss for words, your heart pounding in your chest. You never imagined that Kento, your strict and unapproachable boss, would have paid so much attention to you. But here he was, confessing all this in front of you, his eyes burning into you with every word.

Before you could say anything, Kento smiled and looked down to your lips, and back to your eyes before opening up his laptop and crossing his legs, leaning back into his chair as you tried to form words.

You were taken by surprise, and you didn’t fully register everything he said, especially the part where he told you how beautiful he thought you were.

“Thank you- Mr. Nanami.” You said, gulping slightly and trying to fill the silence.

He twirled a pen with his fingers while replying to you, “Call me Kento, you’ve earned it.”

You nod, getting to work on the shared desk.

The two of you exchanged more details on the work at hand, hours went by and it certainly felt like it.

You let out a big yawn, small droplets forming in your eyes. It was already midnight.

“Oh dear…we’ve been here quite a while huh? Let’s take a break, stretch our legs.” He suggested.

“Sure, would you like to get some coffee?” You offered.

“I’m okay, how about you?”

“I actually…don’t even like coffee”, you confess.

Nanami lets out a deep chuckle, catching you off guard a little as it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

“Y/n, there’s something I’d like to share with you. I find it now to be quite appropriate.”

Your curiosity is peaked, silently hoping for something more than just a raise.

“You’ve shown how loyal you are to this team. I’d like to offer you a promotion to senior management. We can talk more on the details later, but I look forward to sharing them with you.”

You eyes widen, this was a promotion you didn’t expect til the next few years.

Trying to stay as professional as possible, you say, “Yes! I would-“ you jump up, trying to calm down a little but it’s a little too late. Without even thinking you hug Nanami, surprisingly he hugs you back, lifting you up a bit off the floor since you pounced on him and all.

It only got worse, you may have accidentally kissed him too.

Could you blame yourself? His hands hugged your back in a way that felt too welcoming, and when you pulled away from the hug in trying to reclaim your professional manner, you swear it was like a slo motion film, where your eyes met; lips slowly pressing together.

His lips were soft yet demanding, almost like he wished for this more than you did. His tongue teased yours as his hands roamed over your back. 
“Miss Y/n,” Kento whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers down your spine, “You should really be more careful.”

Before you knew it, he had you lifted up into his hold. He placed you onto his desk, throwing the rest of your unfinished stack to the floor in a swift motion. His hands engulfed the sides of your face as he took your lips into another dance, standing in between your legs. The authority and control he had in the office now seemed to transfer to this encounter, and you were putty in his hands, melting into his palms.

You soon felt his kisses trail down to your jaw.

“Nanami-“ You gasp.

“What did I tell you before. Call me Kento. I need you to.” He whispered into your ear, pulling your hair to make you look at him. You nod, as he makes your head lean back, giving him ample space to place kisses to your exposed neck as you sat on his desk, the paperwork as unimportant as ever.

“Yes- Kento…please- need more…”

You moan, your words shaky as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently before soothing it with his tongue.

His hand trails down your body, his fingers slipping under the hem of your pencil skirt, teasing the skin of your inner thighs before finally meeting the dampened fabric of your panties.

“You’re so wet for me already. Did you think about this all day, imagining my hands on you?” He asks, his fingers starting to rub against your clothed core, eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Yes-! Please Kento…I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how badly I wanted you to fuck me…” You admit, feeling a sense of freedom in sharing your desires with him after all his vulnerability towards you.

“Mmm, I’m so glad we’re on the same page. Tell me how badly you need me sweetheart.” He commands, his voice low and husky, only adding to the heat between you two. You whimper, feeling his fingers pressing harder against you, the fabric of your panties becoming damper with your arousal.

“Please, Kento. I need you, I need you to fuck me. I want to feel you fill me up, I want you to make me yours, completely.”

You plead, feeling the desire and lust pulsing through your body. But Kento is not one to give in easily, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. “Thats it, you’re such a good girl.”

He smirks, hiking your skirt up as he kneels down before you and pulls your thighs closer to his face.

He looks up at you with eyes of dark endearment, moving your panties to the side before diving down to bury his face between your thighs. His tongue works magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you grip onto his hair tightly as you try not to scream his name. He already knows just how to push all your pleasure buttons, his fingers slowly tracing your folds before entering you with two fingers, curling them to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

Your superior, knelt down and serving your cunt right before your eyes.

“Fuck, Kento. I-I can’t-” You pant, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. He pulls away, making you whimper at the loss of contact.

“No, not yet. I want to be inside you when you come.” He stands up, unbuckling his belt and sliding off his pants. You can’t help but admire his toned, muscular body as he grips you hips to turn you over, forcing you down onto the hard desk, tits pressed against it with his hand pressing down on your lower back to make your ass grind up against his hard, throbbing cock.

He positions himself at your entrance, slipping his dick up and down your dripping folds, coated with your arousal, his spit, and his pre-cum leaking tip.

He slaps it on your ass a little too, making sure to savor every part of you.

“Look at me.” He commanded, waiting for you to turn your head back to meet his eyes.

He slowly pushed into you, making you gasp and grip onto the desk for support. He almost came right then and there from watching your eyes wince at his size.

He starts off slow, but it doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become rough and demanding.

Your entire body burns, a sensation so deep and guttural.

You feel Kentos hand snake up to your neck from behind, pulling you up off the desk, arching your back into him deeper, his cock finding spots in your cunt untouched to anyone else as he fucked you deeper.

“Do you like this, dirty girl? When your boss fucks your hard like this? You’re so tight around me.”

“Oh God, Kento. Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out, feeling yourself reaching your peak. He matches your moans with his own, the sound echoing through the room. The tension builds, until you both reach your climax together, panting and moaning each other’s names. Kento doesn’t pull out of you, not until he’s finished making sure you’re full to the brim. Only then, he’ll pull out and watch all his cum drip out of you and onto the edge of the desk. He might even fuck it back into you.

His gift to you, for your new promotion.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[russellsppttemplates]

how about a little lando blurb with your birthday? Like, you still gave a regular job and work like you did today but then come home to him and it's all fluffy 🥹

Note: this is very self indulgent I have to admit, but very dreamy 🫶✨️💛

You parked the car and got all your stuff from the boot, putting your backpack on and grabbing the cake box to take upstairs along with your bag, climbing the steps as quickly as you could.

Managing to get the key into the keyhole, you got yourself into the apartment, setting your stuff down and looking for Lando, "Lan? Are you home?".

"In the kitchen, baby!", he called as you heard some pots clinking and a wooden spoon hit the pan, "there's my birthday girl", he cooed as you stepped inside the kitchen.

"Hey, baby", you smiled, approaching him and kissing his lips, smiling when you felt his hands squeeze your waist under your shirt.

"Happy birthday, my love", he whispered when he pulled his lips from yours, "did you have a good day?".

"I did", you smiled, letting him hold your hand while he stirred some chicken on the stove with his other hand, "the girls sang me happy birthday and they really liked the cake, and some of the kids remembered it was my birthday and they were very cute", you beamed.

"Did you have that little boy today?", he asked.

"Thomas? Yes, I did - he made sure I got two kisses on my cheeks and a hug", you teased him.

A couple of months ago, your boyfriend picked you up from work, and you were running a little late as your last appointment required you to talk to the little boy's parents to update them on his therapeutic progress and they were late too. What Lando witnessed in that waiting room was such a delight, even if it made him a little jealous of the little ones: Thomas, the cutest six year old boy, was happily sat down with you in the sofa, telling you all about the cartoons playing on the TV while holding your hand in his. The way he seemed so comfortable and happy to talk with you made Lando melt as he watched the whole thing unravel, only being interrupted when he heard the door click open from who he assumed were Thomas' parents. While you updated them, the little boy watched Lando curiously, even showing him the 'well done!' sticker he got from you because he completed all the activities you asked him to.

"I swear he loves you, like, I have some serious competition there!", Lando mused, "he's obviously cute, and he's very kind too, I wouldn't be surprised if you traded up", he winked.

"He is cute indeed, but I much prefer you", you smiled, hugging his waist and taking in the meal he was making.

"Are you sure? He always gets a sticker after all his appointments because he is such a good boy", Lando raised his eyebrows, "I don't get stickers after every race".

"Maybe it's something they could implement, I'll let them know for the nest season", you mused, kissing his cheek.

By the time you had dinner and ate the cake, Lando made sure you didn't lift a finger, keeping you close to him on the sofa once he tidied the kitchen, kissing you and hugging you while watching your favourite show.

"Thank you for this evening", you pecked his lips again, "today was the best day and this was the perfect end for it".

"Anything for my birthday girl", Lando smiled, leaving a few more kisses from your cheek to your shoulder.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)