#to fix it up in 1 k or more words' and the things I find to write about are things that. since they irritate me. are probably also unpleasan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginespazzi · 1 year ago

Text

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you

dude

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers

wow

fuck you

just landed

thought you might like to know

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess

September 2021

dude enough okay

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you

November 2021

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm

idk why i’m trying again

maybe i should block you

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige

merry christmas i guess

March 2022

i misz you

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich

pkese pick up

ignore that

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you

wait

i don’t need to tell you that

you already ignore it all anyways

August 2022

i heard about the acl

i’m sorry

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm

***

September 2022

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more.

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed.

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake.

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend.

“And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly.

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly.

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy.

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else. You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod.

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it.

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so, “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest.

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm.

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.”

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall.

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free.

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart.

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it.

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

***

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet.

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer.

“You wanna see my dorm?”

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice.

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack.

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile.

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things.

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts.

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin.

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it.

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force.

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having.

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself.

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat.

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy.

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour.

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other.

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus.

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk.

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes.

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.”

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that.

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together.

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts.

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard.

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking.

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane.

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously, “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches.

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost.

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,” Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be.

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps.

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on.

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears.

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back.

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore.

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need.

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something. It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi.

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step.

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile.

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her.

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.”

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen.

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her.

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that.

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?”

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away.

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again.

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?”

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch.

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people.

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige.

“You having fun?”

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch.

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface.

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together.

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste.

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths.

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety.

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back.

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall.

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that.

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly.

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi��s voice rises with each syllable.

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing.

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed.

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it.

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.”

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it.

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear.

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most.

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s.

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up.

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance.

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

341 notes · View notes

otakubimbo · 1 year ago

Text

Fake Love, Fake Rage

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Contents: Yelling. Anger. Cussing. Mentions of fake dating. Angst. Mean Miguel. Miguel who can't talk about his feelings. Harassment. Unresolved argument.

You didn't think your life would turn out like this. What's the problem with a little white lie anyways? Miguel had a huge problem with that little lie.

Sticky Note: This is part 1 of 2, there will be a happy ending but let's get some angst in the meantime <3. Not proof read, if I missed any content warnings let me know. K. Thanks. Mwah.

Masterlist

Nothing could have prepared Miguel for the words that were going to come out of Jessica’s mouth that afternoon.

“So, you finally confessed to her, huh? About time.” Jessica says as she drops a stack of reports on his desk. He immediately looks up with an irritated confused grunt.

“What are you talking about?” He questions picking up the papers she just put down, turning his attention to that instead of her.

“You and Y/N are finally dating. It’s the word around the society.” She huffs, a smile painted on her face as Miguel's head snaps up and he stares at her wide-eyed.

“Que carajo? We are not dating. Who the hell is saying that?” He questions, eyes glowing red as his face heats up at the thought. Well yes, the two of you were close, as close as someone could be to Miguel, but dating? No, absolutely not. Of course, he’s thought about it. You had a genius that rivaled his own, you were beautiful, talented, competent, serious but funny. Miguel shook his head at the thoughts.

“Everyone’s saying that she said it. That’s why I thought you finally confessed your feelings for her.” Jessica shrugged casually, mildly amused at this.

“I do not have feelings for her.” He grumbles standing up from his desk to find you and ‘fix this’. Both Jessica and Lyla exchange looks at each other as he storms out of his own lab to yours, the one he personally built for you because he doesn’t have feelings for you. He absolutely has feelings for you.

As he makes his way to your lab, he can hear all the whispers of people about the two of you dating. Mostly people are shocked but can see it with the amount of time the two of you spend together and the things he does for you. There are some whispers about how you’re obviously too good for him and how he could ever convince you to date him with his personality. But he already knew that he already knew that you were too good for him. All of this just made him angrier as he neared your lab. You could feel him before you saw him, without the need for your spidey senses.

“Yes O’Hara?” You question, not even looking up from your task of working on a watch as Miles holds a light for you and Hobie is handing you tools. You, of course, could do these tasks by yourself but you enjoyed their company.

“Why the hell are you going around telling people we are dating?!” He barks at you; you still don’t lift your head from your work.

“Tone, O’Hara.” Is your response that makes his nostrils flair. He takes a deep breath; he knows your stubbornness will not allow you to communicate with him if he’s yelling at you. You made that very clear in the early stages of your ‘friendship’. Miles looks back and forth between you and Miguel while Hobie looks amused as usual. You had already told Hobie the incident that brought upon Miguel being in your office right now and he told you Miguel would be pissed.

“Why are you lying to people saying we are dating?” He asked in a calmer tone which surprised Miles, he’s never heard him speak so calmly but of course, this was usually reserved for spaces when it was just the two of you.

“Ben Riley wouldn’t take no for an answer, so instead of making him lose his teeth I told him we were dating.” You say nonchalantly still not looking at him.

“So, are yall dating?” Miles quietly asks more to you than to Miguel.

“We are not. Now hold still so I can finish these modifications.” You respond shifting his hand back in place.

“You would be lucky mate to even fake date her. She is one of the most fit spider women around.” Hobie jokes which just makes you roll your eyes.

“Everyone out!” Miguel growls at Hobie and Miles, now you finally lift your head to scowl at him.

“This is MY lab, O’Hara. You can’t just command them out during the middle of my work.” You huff, eyes narrowed at him. You and Miguel glare at each other.

“Ooof” Hobie huffs as he stands up from the desk behind you, putting your tools back. “Let’s leave the lovers to quarrel alone, mate.”

Miles nervously puts your light down while Miguel glares at them as they leave the two of you alone. The two of them didn’t even get out of earshot before you started yelling at Miguel.

“You think we should of just left?” Miles asks, worried about you.

“Oi, yeah absolutely nothing worse than getting in-between a couple's fight.” Hobie says as he casually puts his hands in his pockets.

“But she said they weren’t dating.” Miles looks confused.

“Yet”

At this point, you were truly heated at what his problem was. He could simply just deny that you two were a couple, there was no need to storm into your lab when you were in the middle of working.

“Miguel, I’m seriously too busy to do this right now. If you want me to be able to go on any missions, I need to work on this.” You gesture at your exposed watch on your desk.

“You’re the one who’s going around telling everyone we are dating because you can’t just reject someone.” He snaps back, towering over you. You roll your eyes deciding to just ignore him and get back to your watch.

“I told you; he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you’ve been clear about spider-on-spider violence.” You respond with a roll of your eyes, whispering how he’s a hypocrite for the whole Miles situation. Miguel aggressively rakes his fingers through his hair, eyes going a light red annoyed with your instance that you weren’t in the wrong.

“And now, I’ll be getting back to work.” You say now having to adjust your stuff since your help was told to get out.

“You do realize what people are saying right?!” He grunts as his hand slams on your workstation.

“If it’s really that bad for people to think we are dating then just simply tell everyone we aren’t. I really don’t care that much truthfully; I just said the first thing that came to mind.” You don’t even acknowledge his tantrum anymore, tools in hand going back to your watch.

“Seriously?” He asked, his tone is different than before, it sounded saddened? That makes you look up at him, and really look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his teeth were clenched but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t understand.

“What’s actually wrong, Mig?” Your voice was soft, gentle, the voice you only used when he was in one of his moods which seems like right now. Your eyes gazed upon him in worry and concern for him. He hated that. He hated seeing everything fade from around you, that all he could see was you. Your lips pressed together, plump and soft, your eyes shining at him as if he was the only important thing right then, the nickname you gave him falling off your lips making his pulse pick up. He almost let himself get caught in that until the voices of the other spiders played in his head, what Hobbie said played in his head, he was no where close good enough for you, he would never be. You deserve something better than the monster that he is. He breathes out curses in Spanish as he grows more frustrated with everything, mainly himself.

“Mig, you know I haven’t taken those Spanish classes yet. What is going on?” You ask even more gently than the last time, you could tell it was more than you pretending to date him. There was something else, something he wasn’t telling you. “Talk to me, you know you always can.” You say when you don’t get a response from him.

You reach out to touch him, like you always do when he gets too into his own head. He pulls back quickly, scowling at you.

“Have you ever thought about keeping me out of your shocking business? This stupid fake dating shit. And of course, people believe it because you’re always forcing yourself around me. I don’t want to be in any of your stupid drama, for shocks sake. Leave me out of your shit. Have you ever thought that shit was annoying? Because it is, it’s annoying and pointless. You’re here to do your job and that’s shocking it. ” He spits at you and your eyes go wide.

He’s never spoken to you like this before. Yeah, he had a temper and could even get frustrated with you but you thought maybe it was different between the two of you. The conversations you’ve had, all the time you’ve spent with just the two of you. You thought you were at the very least friends. You could feel your eyes starting to burn, but you refused to cry, especially in front of him. You grab your deconstructed watch and all your things in grabbing distance.

“Fuck you, Miguel” you say as you shove your way past him. He fucked up, he knew he did so he let you walk off. Hoping you could calm down enough to let him speak to you again, but he didn’t know when that would be. He saw the tears starting to form in your eyes when you pushed past him, he heard the crack in your voice, but he said nothing to stop you. No apology, no explanation, nothing.

When you left your lab, you went directly to Spider Byte, your watch wasn’t working currently since you took it apart and you just wanted to go home. You hadn’t started crying yet but she could see something was wrong when you walked up to her.

“Hey Margo, my watch is kind of out of commission right now. Can you get me home?” You ask breathy, your chest tight in an effort to keep your composure.

“Of course, girl but are you good?” she asks, concern written all over her face. You wave her off dismissively.

“Yeah, I just got some stuff to take care of at home. I’m good. I’m good.” You say through your gritted teeth, hoping she would drop it and she does, going into start to bring up your home universe.

“So, you and Miguel?” She questions, an eye looking up at you hoping this wasn’t your problem.

You take in a deep breath, “There’s definitely no me and Miguel, absolutely not. That was just a lie I came up with to get Riley off my case ya know.” You respond trying to keep your voice steady and reassuring.

“Yeah, yeah I get ya.” She replies, dropping that topic also as she pulls up a portal to your universe. “Thanks, Margo, I’ll catch you later.” You say stepping into the portable before she could even reply. And that was the last time anyone had seen you.

335 notes · View notes

gloriousowl2 · 6 days ago

Text

· | Period. | ·

A juice (j x uzi x tessa) fic for the 4 juice shippers

Tags (ao3 type of sh-t because I they're important.) Tessa being in constant pain (cramps). Uzi and J being protective and worried over/with tessa. Tessa using Uzi as a heating pad. Tessa having mood swings. Me projecting the period i am having (my dick for a functional reproductive female system wasn't a good trade.) On tessa. Tessa hisses and acts like cat!1!11! Uzi feeling bad. Tessa is green. J is orange. Uzi is purpol

Read those tags. If you dont like dont read. No theres no word count sorry pookie 😔

Tessa was currently fixing YET other mechanical thing uzi broke.. Suddenly, a sharp pain on her tummy.. Probably it wasnt nothing to worry-! It couldn't be periods.. She went back to fixing it when the pain worsened.. Ugh it was.. She couldn't believe it, she was on her period... In a planet with no medicine nor tampons.. She should have a few tho.. She just had to- she then hissed when the pain worsened.. Cold worsened the cramps.. She decided to pack up her stuff and leave it there as she went back to her room.. Gosh! It hurt to walk.. Her legs felt like the bones were dislocated but she could still walk.. She managed to get to her room before collapsing on her spinning chair.. Clutching her tummy when she heard shuffling(?) On her bed..

' uzi..? '

Tessa called out as she turned to the bed.. And there it was, Uzi's solver tail poking out from under the blankets Wagging quite... Fastly, of course it was. Uzi was probably trying to sneak up on her..

Tessa then decided to ignore uzi's antics and focus on something else... Even tho some cuddling from her favorite drone wouldn't be that bad... She still needed to find something else to do.. Her eyes landed on the J and uzi Plushies she had.. She used to have a crow uzi plushie but someone seemed to have took it..

Tessa then got up (with some pain) and grabbed the plushies.. Before sitting back down on the chair.. And then another sharp stung of pain pierced her tummy.. She hissed slightly. As it seemed to alert uzi who was under the blankets.. Tessa simply just held the plushies close to her tummy while biting her lip to don't hiss out of pain again..

' fuck.. '

She muttered under her breath as she tried spinning on her chair to distract herself.. When she least expected.. Uzi pounced on her lap.. God that hurt MORE than normal.. And tessa hissed again. (And said cuss word)

' FUCK UZI-! '

That startled uzi who almost fell but was luckily holding onto the chair.. Uzi's led optics hollowed with surprise as she looked down at tessa

' i-im sorry tess-! Are you hurt..? '

She asked worried as she cradled tessa's face in her hands.. Having caution to don't grip too tightly out of worry and possibly hurt tessa more..

' ugh.. YES! YES I AM UZI-! '

Tessa snapped at uzi out of anger from both uzi jumping on her lap Suddenly and from the period cramps..

' ah! Im sorry-! I swear-!! I didn't mean to hurt y- '

She was cut off by tessa hissing again and shutting her eyes from the cramps

' Tessa..? '

Uzi asked worried as she let go of tessa's face and just held on the chair again..

' tessa what is i- '

Once again.. She was interrupted by tessa.. But this time it was tessa holding.. More like clutching uzi close to her.. Her nails digging onto uzi's hoodie as she also wrapped her legs around uzi's waist

' quiet.. Quiet will ya..? '

' y-yes mistress.. '

Tessa held uzi closer holding her even more tightly then before.. Meanwhile uzi sent J a text through her system

[ · loading Conversation via chip with 💛🧡 my beloved 🖊️ 🧡💛 ]

- hey 🖊️.

- what is it 🍇?

- tess Is acting weird 🖊️.

- wdym?

- hissing.. Snappy.. Clingy..

- ah? I think its either shes sleepy or on her period

- p e r i o d ?

- yeah omw gonna be there asap k?

- 👍

[ · conversation via Chip with 💛🧡 my beloved 🖊️ 🧡💛 ended. ]

Now uzi just had to wait for J to come and help her out.. Until there she just let Tessa hold her close and scratch her hoodie..

After some time.. Tessa was calmer and had loosened her grip on Uzi.. J had arrived and barged in, before rushing to Tessa.

' tess! Are you okay?! '

' mm.. Mhm.. '

Tessa responded as she was sleepy.. She shifted slightly when suddenly J picked her up

' thank robo god.. '

Uzi rolled her eyes at the mention of robo god (#uzi the only robo god)

J then carried both uzi and tessa to bed and laid tessa down.. Uzi was still being held but J snatched her the moment tessa fell asleep

' don't annoy her. '

' i didn't-?! '

' keep it up then. '

J placed uzi in the spinning chair. And then looked at tessa before placing the blankets over her.. J then left to get some stuff..

( t i m e p a s s e d )

After tessa woke up.. J made her have 2 pills for the cramps to disappear faster... After it.. Tessa was currently holding uzi close to her tummy.. (Uzi was 100% blushing)

' you're very warm you know..? You're like a heating pad.. '

' t-thanks i guess.. '

Uzi nuzzled closer to tessa while blushing slightly as she purred a bit..

' you're so cute sometimes.. '

Uzi blushed more at the compliment as she looked away, her Tail wagging fastly.. Which made tessa chuckle and caress uzi's tail

' h-hey-! '

' hm? What is it?

' don't touch my t-tail.. I-its 'sensitive'.. '

' hm.. I see.. '

Noted. Tessa thought as she let go of uzi's tail and removed her beanie so she could caress uzi's hair instead..

J then entered the room and got on the bed with tessa and uzi.. She nuzzled tessa's neck. Purring loudly as she held tessa close before laying down on bed..

' someone's clingy~ '

Uzi teased as J pouted and looked away from Uzi.

' heheheh.. Pouty J.. '

After a while J got in sleep mode and so did Uzi.. Tessa was also asleep.. They were cuddled together :3

The end

Since there's no kudos just idk comment "kudos" or reblog if you liked it a lot

#J x tessa x uzi #uzi x tessa #j x tessa #uzi x j #tessa x uzi x J #goes rabies #murder drones fic #murder drones J #murder drones uzi #murder drones tessa

10 notes · View notes

luvrgirl4roman · 28 days ago

Text

Solo Sikoa x Kyra (Black OC)

Warning: Mentions of sex and ab*rtion, Cussing, use of the N word.

Word Count: 1.8k

Part 1 you can find Here

Part 2

I can hear my heart beating out my chest as I sit on the bathroom floor of the suite in complete shock, looking through Christian’s phone. It turns out "D" is short for Danielle, and he met her at the gas station coming home from work one night about three months ago. They met up four times to hang out and had sex three of those times. There was a picture she sent last week, a digital pregnancy test that showed a "Pregnant" result. I stared at that picture for five minutes, my mind scrambling. They had been arguing the past week via text about whether to keep the baby or not; she wanted to, and he didn't.

I'll pay for everything to get it taken care of.

D : Nigga, are you serious? I'm not doing that. I'm having this baby, so get ready.

Since then, she’s been texting him every day and calling five to six times a day as well. Those calls have gone unanswered by him. I hear an "Oh shit" coming from the bedroom, followed by Christian’s footsteps pounding on the floor, getting closer to the door. I hop up and unlock it. My eyes are filled with tears as I open the door and hand him his phone, with the picture still on the screen. He looks at it in total shock.

"Kyra, I can expl—" "No need. The texts and that picture explained enough for me." I try to control my breathing as I step outside to the balcony to get some fresh air. When I come back in, Christian is on the edge of the bed with his head down.

"I'm sorry. Can we please talk this out?" he says to me.

"I’ve been asking you for weeks to talk so we can figure this out. You didn’t want to, so I don’t want to talk anything out. All I want to know is why."

He puts his head down, ignoring my question.

"WHY? WHY WOULD YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS? I’VE BEEN NOTHING BUT GOOD TO YOU!"

...Silence.

"ANSWER ME!" I yell.

"My life felt like I was stuck in a routine. Wake up, work, home, eat, sleep, and repeat. I felt burnt out."

"So that means go fuck another girl—unprotected—and get her pregnant?!"

"No, I was at a weak point and needed something different. I made a mistake."

"At this point, it's more than a mistake. A child is involved." "We can try and wo—"

I burst out laughing. "Nigga, you can't be serious right now. TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING! We can't work this out!"

"I'm so sorry I did this to us. I just want to fix it," he says as his voice cracks.

"I don't want to ruin my cousin's wedding with this, so please, let's act normal. But when we get home, I want you to get out. We’re done. You also will be sleeping on that couch in the front room." "Come on, please, don't do this."

"YOU DID THIS! So don’t act like it’s my fault you went out and cheated. Just grab your things and get out of this room."

Meanwhile, his phone has been ringing off the hook. He turns it off and starts grabbing his clothes, shoes, phone charger, and body wash. Once he gathers the last of his things, I slam the bedroom door in his face. I lay on the bed, looking at my phone, and see it’s almost 5 p.m. I can get an hour and a half nap before dinner tonight. I try to sleep but I can’t stop from crying. Before I know it I’m knocked out.

My alarm goes off at 6:30, and I sit up feeling refreshed—as if a weight has been lifted. I jump up to take a shower, rub my body down with my pineapple oil, and slip into a strapless push-up bra and black lace boy shorts. I’ve decided to wear my Shein tropical-print 2-piece crop top set with a maxi skirt and a slit riding up my thick thigh. I also put on my black platform sandals, big gold hoops, a gold necklace with the letter K, and a gold bracelet. I style my hair in a bun, spray on Paris Hilton, grab my purse, and get ready to head out.

Walking through the living room, I see Christian lying on the couch, sleeping. I’m glad he’s not coming tonight, I can't stand to look at his stupid ass. I arrive at the lobby lounge and immediately see Alyssa, Crissy, Alisha, and Ashley tucked away on a corner couch with shots already on the table.

"Hey y’all!"

"Heyyyyyy," they reply in unison. "You look good as hell! That outfit is cute!" Ashley says.

"Thank you, boo," I reply, sitting on the couch.

"We have food coming for the table, and then we can start the party," Alyssa says.

“Where’s Christian?” she asks. “He was feeling jet-lagged, so he stayed in for tonight to rest up for the ceremony tomorrow.” “Okay, that’s understandable.” “Where’s Brandon and his fine-ass friends!?” Crissy asks. “He went to get them from their suite; he’ll be back any minute,” Alyssa replies.

We continue catching up and some small talk. The food arrives, and then Brandon shows up with his friends and damn, they’re fine. Big Samoan men with tattoos, nice jewelry, and they smell good.

"Hello, future wife and ladies," Brandon says as he bends down to kiss his bride.

"Heyyy," we reply.

"These are my best friends since college Jimmy, Jey, and Roman. And this is Solo, my good friend who works with me."

We all introduce ourselves, but when I lock eyes with Solo, I feel something different. It’s like a flame ignited inside me. When he smiles at me, I almost lose it. But I quickly compose myself, because if I start flirting, I’ll get asked about Christian and I don’t want to bring that drama into her wedding weekend. So, I bury my head in my phone and try to ignore any contact with him.

After four tequila shots and two Hawaiian Mai Tais, I was good and drunk. The hula show started, they began asking if anyone wanted to come up and learn. Suddenly, I was up there with them, getting ready to Hula. While they were teaching me , I could hear my cousin and her friends cheering me on. I was in my zone. The warm air against my skin, my arms and hips moving to the rhythm—everything felt so freeing. I closed my eyes and tried to dance away the stress from earlier. As I open my eyes, I look around at the beautiful ocean water and picturesque palm trees. I glanced over to check on my cousin, and I noticed Solo has locked eyes with me again. A rush of heat floods through me. I quickly return to my seat, and Alyssa asks if I want to go back to the men's suite, they’re having an after-party because they didn’t end the night early. I say yes eagerly, secretly wanting to hang out with Solo and see what he's about. The men pay our tabs, and we head back to their suite.

Once inside, I check my phone and see that Christian has called me four times and sent about ten texts. I block his number and tuck my phone into my purse. Before I can dwell on it, Ashley grabs my arm and pulls me outside with the rest of the ladies.

“Okay, who’s calling dibs on who?” she asks. “Well, Crissy and I already have our men,” Alyssa says. Now, why the hell would she speak for me? I think to myself.

“I want Roman,” Crissy declares. “Jey is fine as hell; I’m going with him,” Ashley adds.

“I want Solo. He’s so fine, funny, and charming,” Alisha smiles.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! I scream internally.

We head to the bar area and make mixed drinks, while the others scatter to their respective corners with their men. Alyssa and I settle outside near the fire pit lounge to sit and talk.

“Bitch, I’m getting married tomorrow,” her drunk ass says to me.

“I know, right? I’m so happy for you—finding someone you love and who loves you back,” I reply.

“You found that too.”

“Not really,” I mumble under my breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing! You’re right.” I almost threw up saying those words.

After about ten minutes of gossiping about the guys, Brandon comes outside to get Alyssa so they can dance. I sit alone, staring at the water for about fifteen minutes, until I hear a man’s voice asking:

“Is this seat taken?”

I look up, and it’s Solo fine ass

“No, help yourself,” I say with the biggest grin on my face.

“You did great tonight at the Hula show,” he says.

“Thank you so much.” As I begin to blush

“So, are you here by yourself?”

“No, I’m not. I’m here with my boyfriend.”

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to disrespect—” As he begins to get up to leave, my mind says he should go, but my hand instinctively grabs his arm.

“You don’t have to leave,” I say softly.

“I definitely don’t want to disrespect you if you’re with someone,” he responds.

“We can just talk if you want?” I ask.

“I’d love that,” he smiles.

Before we can even start a real conversation, Alyssa comes over and interrupts, saying we have a packed day tomorrow. She offers to walk me to my suite. Disappointed, I said goodnight to Solo and gather the other girls. We head back to our suites. The girls are blushing over the men, and I try not to blush myself. All I can think about is his scent, the movement of his lips, how he licked them every time we made eye contact—and those big arms in his black V-neck shirt. I wanted to stay longer, but I didn’t want Alyssa to grow suspicious.

“Ky…Ky…KYRA! Can you hear me!?” my cousin yells.

“Huh?”

“Girl, did you hear what I just said?”

“Girl, no, I’m drunk as hell, I’m spaced out—what do you want!” “We’re starting makeup for the wedding at 10, so be there then.” “I got you,” I reply.

We were so drunk that somehow, we ended up at my cousin’s suite. I dropped her off and headed back to my own suite. I dreaded going back because I was hit with the harsh reality that my two-year relationship was over.

Once inside, I tiptoe in and see that Christian is asleep again. I enter my room, undress, wrap my hair up, and fall into bed. The room starts spinning, and when I close my eyes, all I can think about is Solo’s body on top of me, his face buried into my neck as he’s deep inside of me.

I open my eyes again and feel overwhelmed by my reality. Exhausted and bittersweet, I drift off to sleep, unwilling to face tomorrow’s shenanigans.

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#solo sikoa #solo sikoa x black reader #solo sikoa x reader #solo sikoa fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #fanfic

17 notes · View notes

fatherfigurefusion · 1 year ago

Text

Danganronpa: Another Iteration (or a talent-shift AU for DRA)

Haruhiko Kobashikawa, Ultimate Surgeon

The protagonist, and 1/3 of the three "brain cells".

Comes from a family of field medics.

Ending up garnering lots of attention from the media for performing flawless surgeries at the age of five.

Would much draw attention away from the whole "medical prodigy" thing, but would lay down his life to save people (savior complex protag, my beloved).

Is a bit too into the anatomy parts of medical textbooks.

Mikako Kurokawa, Ultimate Pilot

Was groomed from a young age to be an unstoppable war machine.

Was told from a young age that "actions speak louder than words", resulting in her not talking much.

Doesn't really open up to anybody, not even her servant/adoptive brother.

People are often unnerved by the pale six-foot-one girl with noticeable muscles underneath her uniform, and rightfully so.

Yuki Maeda, Ultimate Exorcist

Has powers straight out of an isekai/shounen manga, and the underdog protagonist energy to match.

In spite of his title, Yuki actually specializes more in being a spiritual medium and summoning/communicating with the spirits themselves.

Is headmates with Utsuro, a far colder spirit in charge of the actual exorcisms, who finds just about any other activity "boring".

Has an awful and traumatic past that lead to both his attachment towards the dead and his alter.

Rei Mekaru, Ultimate Lucky Student

Primary trial saboteur.

Okay, I have two different prompts for a Lucky Student Rei.

First prompt, essentially Teruko Tawaki (right down to the backstory), but she doesn't need to get backstabbed for her to turn her back on others.

Second prompt: the Nagito-esque Rei I outlined here.

Either way, a total menace.

Teruya Otori, Ultimate Professor

One of Haruhiko's supports and 1/3 of the "brain cells".

Highly-intelligent and would drop tons of obscure trivia in a conversation, to the point that you would leave knowing a whole lot of stuff.

Father was the principal/dean of a K-12 school, and decided to hire his genius son to teach people.

He especially loves teaching grade-schoolers, but that kind of leaks into his interactions with his classmates (they all have at least one gold star/lollipop).

Akane Taira, Ultimate Merchant

Classic rags-to-riches backstory, with her going from a door-to-door saleswoman to a street vendor to the founder of a popular market chain.

Perfect customer service voice that she only ever lets go of when angry.

Seems docile and polite, but would punch a Karen.

Basically Akane, but even more girlboss.

Yamato Kisaragi, Ultimate Butler

Has a FuyuPeko-esque relationship with Mikako (minus the romance).

The Kisaragis have been working under the Kurokawas for generations to come.

Instead of Love Live! references, he makes Black Butler and Hayate the Combat Butler references in his dialogue.

Always seems to appear out of nowhere and know exactly what you want/need. Even Mikako is unnerved by this.

Kiyoka Maki, Ultimate Inventor

Specializes in creating weapons (primarily artillery).

Has the potential to make a nuclear bomb, but would rather spend all day doing typical teen girl stuff.

Greatly prefers fixing up old technology, rather than inventing new products.

Gets really dirty by the end of inventing stuff (blame her hyper-focus), and hates it.

Kinji Uehara, Ultimate Sniper

Was adopted by an Italian mercenary group, resulting in him becoming an assassin from a young age.

Is still highly-religious, believing that the lifestyle he has lived has condemned him to a life in hell.

Has a protective attitude towards children, has struck up a friendship with Teruya because of it.

Keeps a distance from the rest of his classmates, not wanting anyone to know the truth behind what he does.

Ayame Hatano, Ultimate Priestess

Can confidently lead sermons, but can barely handle herself in normal conversations.

Regularly goes on tangents regarding her religion, which can veer into some unnerving territory.

Is commonly seen as an upright maternal figure, which always throws people for a loop when they see how she really is.

Due to her talent, she is nowhere near the workaholic she is in canon, and she often encourages her classmates to take little breaks.

Tsurugi Kinjo, Ultimate Sprinter

Still has his strong sense of justice, but it isn't filtered through the black-and-white insanity of the police force. More like a shonen protagonist.

Would gladly sacrifice his life, if it means his peers would survive and/or be avenged. Who knows where that mentality would lead, when in a killing game?

Juu was a former Olympian, who Tsurugi looks up to and seeks to surpass.

Carries the burden of a promise made between him and his posthumous best friend.

Satsuki Iranami, Ultimate Police Officer

Haruhiko's other support, and 1/3 of the "brain cells".

Was born to a prestigious legal family, but was unable to live up to their standards, with Keisuke being the only one willing to give her a chance.

Is more of a Peralta-type cop, rather than a Santiago-type.

Probably owns a prop flag gun that says "GOTCHA!" or "BANG!".

Mitsuhiro "Mitchie" Higa, Ultimate Clown

Fandom's treatment of Mitch be like. /hj

Would have a more sanitized personality, for the sake of the kids.

Imagine Mitchie taking clowning as serious as canon!Mitch takes soccer.

Hates mimes and any other circus performances with a burning passion. Would start the clown uprising.

Kizuna Tomori, Ultimate Soccer Player

Would have a lot of issues with having a "gross" or "boyish" talent, thanks to Minako.

Would compensate for this with her hyper-girly personality.

Is highly competitive, and would do whatever it takes to win and get ahead in life.

Very Arei Nageishi-core.

Kakeru Yamaguchi, Ultimate Cheerleader

In contrast to the American-style cheerleader Kizuna is, Kakeru would be an oendan-leader.

Midori would be more athletic in this universe (although she still has her illness), and Kakeru cheers her at every event, like the good big brother that he is.

Big body = big lungs = loud shouts. Has a very hoarse and raspy voice outside of sporting events, because of it.

Is quiet to save up his voice for his cheers, and loves tea and cough drops.

Kanata Inori, Ultimate Lawyer

Her parents were murdered, when she was a baby, and she was taken in by the lawyer that prosecuted against and exposed the true murderer.

Her naturally polite and optimistic personality has made her the mascot of sorts for the Ando law firm.

Prime example of "A lawyer doesn't cry, until it's all over".

Could be considered an honorary member of the "brain cells", but she isn't a part of the polycule.

52 notes · View notes

fallout4-reacts · 1 year ago

Text

k-peasants asked: An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time. Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Let's play some game... (Warning : Curie may be intense)

Part 5

Cait / Codsworth / Curie / Dogmeat / Maxson

(Part 1 : Danse, Deacon, Nick Valentine)

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

Cait : Cait and Sole return quietly to Sanctuary. The path ahead of them is still long, but for the time being, silence is fine. Well, not for very long. After everything that has happened, the fighter remains silent mostly because she is at a loss for words.

It was a shock to discover all of her senses after hiding from reality with Psycho for so long. However, she is currently experiencing one of her most agonizing torments.

Her feelings toward Sole.

It's made even worse by what they just did for her.

Finally, approaching Oberland Station, she urged a stop.

"Pee?" inquires Sole mockingly.

"Talking," Cait says, feeling uneasy.

They notify a nearby tree stump and settle there.

"What do you need to talk about?" inquires the vault dweller.

Cait watches the Charles flows down below, looking for her words.

"You are aware of all that has occurred since Tommy. And right there, you've changed my life. That is a lot."

Sole is worried, but quickly gets back their empathetic look.

"If you want to step back..."

Cait instantly raises her hand and places it on their shoulder.

"No! No, it is not that."

Sole throws themself on the young woman, causing them to fall backwards behind the tree trunk. Cait has a fleeting thought that something is happening far more unexpectedly than she had anticipated. But her thoughts are swiftly brought back to reality when the grenade explodes where they were.

"Gunner?" she inquired.

"Raider!"

As she stood up, the warrior smiled with all of her teeth, holding her baseball bat.

Codsworth : His programming doesn't include it. His programming doesn't include it. In his code, it is not included; he is well aware of the fact that it is not included in his programming.

Not to mention feelings of isolation, agony, and dread, as well as the happiness of seeing his master/mistress come back.

He is a robot, a straightforward bot that was programmed to perform chores around the house. He became an integral part of Sole's day-to-day activities and routines.

Not just as a robot.

As a friend, as a member of the family, and as a close relative.

Far too close.

Yes, it is too close.

As he hands the towel to Sole as they emerge from the shower, he looks aside. This is not something that is programmed into his algorithm. It is not something that he does habitually. In any case, it wasn't. It's mainly now due to the fact that he had never experienced this sort of static that now grabs him whenever Sole touches him or leans in front of him to collect an instrument or a tool, and it is a thousand times worse when Sole undresses. Because he is a domestic robot, then Sole never felt embarrassed by Codsworth's presence.

Today, however, Codsworth is feeling ashamed.

He feels so awful.

He has to explain it to Sole.

With the help of Sole, perhaps they will be able to fix this programming issue and restore it to its previous state.

Normal.

This is not the kind of feeling that he was designed to receive!

"Mom/Sir, would you mind if we opted to have a conversation?"

As soon as Sole reaches for the towel, they drape it around their waist.

"Yes, indeed, Cods, guy. What is the problem here? There is a decreasing supply of Radstag? Would you like me to find some sugar? Is the Assaultron I brought from the hills still making fun of you?"

The Mister Handy's accessories turns three times around him. He adopts a collected tone of voice and makes an effort to ease the peculiar vibrating that his machinery is experiencing.

"In all honesty, none of that is accurate."

This time, the human is unable to stand any longer. They sense that their robot exhibits some abnormal behavior. A pair of pants and a t-shirt are chosen at random by them, and they swiftly put on the trousers.

As they sit on their mattress, Sole lets out a sigh.

“So, I get that this is a very sensitive thing.”

"Very sensitive, to say the least. I am aware that it may come off as unconventional, absurd, or even unpleasant, but it appears that... I have developed a certain... as one may say, some instinct that typically corresponds to humans."

Sole raise an eyebrow once more.

"Typical to humans? Describe it."

At this point, Codsworth musters up all his bravery and takes a deep breath. In doing so, he sits down on the bed next to Sole in the same manner as a typical person would sit down. The one and only issue is that he may have forgets that he is a Mister Handy. Consequently, the bed in question happens to catch fire, Sole still be sitting on it.

They leap on their feet as the fire has quickly spread to them, and they cry out in pain throughout the process. As Codsworth's anxiety levels rise, he makes a mad dash to find a bucket of water at the pace of his truster. By doing so, he arrives at the conclusion that viewing himself as a human being is extremely risky, and that it would be more prudent for him to initiate a defragmentation of his personality module before it progresses to an excessive degree.

Curie : For a while now, the synth has noticed the difference. She understands that having a human body provides her with not only abilities to better explore the world around her, but also the opportunity to explore a complete intrinsic world in the same way.

Some sentiments and emotions.

And out of emotion, she realized she had a tremendous feeling for Sole.

This exploration was everything but subtle. She even felt upset at her friend, initially unable to comprehend why her thoughts kept returning to them.

Curie realized that she had romantic feelings for Sole. The trouble with this delicate circumstance is that Sole is the only person with whom she feels safe discussing her heart's torments. So, the only way out of this dilemma is to confront them and disclose everything.

Curie is still anxious.

And she is completely unaware that this is normal.

She coughs to catch the attention of her companion, who is working with Clem to erect a retaining beam to keep an artificial ceiling over the cave containing Vault 88.

"I can talk to you?" she asks timidly.

Sole rests their shoulder against the massive iron and rubber framework, wiping their brow.

"Is it critical?" they asked her, beckoning Clem to assist them.

"I believe so. It's quite significant.

Sole sighed. Curie believes that now is not the moment, but she fears that she will lose her mind if she doesn't speak. She sighs lightly.

"I understand you are busy…"

"A little, yes," replies her friend. However, their tone has softened significantly. "Curie, you appear to be dealing with a personal issue. If it seems vital to you, speak out. You know I'm always there for you."

Clem looks at the synth and seems to believe that this is the worst moment of the existence for a small talk. But the young man would never dare to oppose Sole, so he attempts to assist them maintain the pillar.

"Here it is. For some time now, I've been experiencing a peculiar storm inside of me, which is causing me to lose control. And you. I think about you all the time. I can't stop. I can't comprehend. I understand, but..."

Curie pauses and quickly looks up at Sole. Her companion has shifted their expression. Their gaze appears even more compassionate than before. They place one hand on the massive pillar to keep it in place and clear their throat.

"If I understand what you're saying—

"The ceiling!" Clem wails simultaneously, springing back.

Sole looks up at the pillar, and Curie's brain detects an unexpected alteration in their face. From affection to fear, the synth barely has time to understand what happens when a massive rock detaches from the ceiling and falls squarely on Sole.

She is so shocked that she can no longer hear Clem's screams of horror.

Dogmeat : "Wouf! Wouf wouf wouf wouf!"

"What?"

"Wouf!"

"Oh, I love you too, my too cute puppy!"

Elder Maxson : It's an unusual idea, but not an unpleasant one. Anyway, Sole has a lot of odd, but successful, ideas.

Maxson enjoys this short walk along the edge of Nordhagen Beach. His Knight urged that Maxson attend the meeting with the settlers' delegate. They had a difficult negotiation, but the BoS is now confident of a steady supply for the remainder of their tenure in the Commonwealth.

Then night fell as they respectfully celebrated alongside the locals.

Then, with the moon high in the sky, Sole insisted on having this little walk.

Maxson finds the trek pleasant... romantic?

He glances toward Danse, who is patrolling the area to ensure that the moment is not squandered, and then turns to his subordinate, who has stopped while perceiving his expression.

"Is something wrong, Elder?"

"On the opposite, or it depends."

Sole didn't appear to be reassured by the answer. The commander clears his throat and attempts a benign grin.

"I reflected on this atmosphere, landscape, and moment. Everything is just perfect."

'Perfect, indeed,' says Sole, distractedly.

Maxson insists, "In perfect company."

The Minutemen General's gaze is once again drawn to their superior. They appear to hesitate before smiling slightly but say nothing.

"What I mean—

"I understand what you mean. I'd have to be stupid, deaf, or blind to miss what you mean."

Arthur frowns. Sole's tone is not hostile, yet their response is uncommon.

"Do I understand that my feelings for you are not shared?"

"Oh, I apologize. It was rude of me. I must have become a little wild while wandering this land, mostly alone. I'm sorry for offending you."

Maxson grabs Sole's hand in his.

“So if I said to you—

"The code of conduct prohibits fraternization between superiors and subordinates," Danse's voice abruptly cut him off.

Maxson almost curses the man beneath his beard, but he stands straight with dignity and strives to maintain his demeanor.

"—that I am very pleased with the conclusion of this transaction and that it is now time to return to the Prydwen?"

When Sole gets their hand back, they can't help but smile faintly. They exchange a glance with Danse.

Maxson then understands.

He curses himself.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 companions #fo4 #fallout companions #fallout 4 reactions #fallout 4 react #sole survivor #cait #cait fallout 4 #cait fo4 #codsworth #elder maxson #arthur maxson #dogmeat #fallout 4 curie #curie #curie fo4

42 notes · View notes

imaginatorcreates · 7 months ago

Text

Sleeper Sensorium

17 December 2024 — 20 December 2024

Summary: An exploration of the Sleeper's senses, shown through their experiences on Erlin's Eye.

Word Count: ~4.5k words

Author's Note: Getting into "Citizen Sleeper" was not part of my 2024 bingo, but hey. Last minute surprise! I love "Citizen Sleeper" so much. It's everything. I pulled from aspects of my game-play while also trying to keep it as generalized as possible.

Also on AO3

1: Taste

One of the first things you remember when you had first arrived on Erlin’s Eye was how empty you had felt. Not exactly in a physical sense, though you had surely felt that way from how cramped your joints had been after you had finally stretched your limbs out from the wrecked freighter ship you had smuggled yourself into. Suddenly having the room to do that, your extremities allowed to move far away from your torso, had left you feeling cold and empty.

But you quickly discover that beyond the everlasting emptiness you feel when you think a little too hard about yourself and what you had done to get here (well, not exactly you; what the emulated mind of whoever resides in this mechanical body of yours had done), you are also empty in a simple, deeply human way.

Your body requires food. Simple energy to keep yourself going and prevent your condition from deteriorating faster than it already does.

Whenever you feel your systems start complaining, small vibrations running up and down your abdomen reminiscent of a stomach growling, you head down to the Bright Market. Among the bustle of the crowd, you expertly drift your way down to a certain stall in the corner of the open market. If anyone asks, you say that you’re just following your nose.

It isn’t hard once you know where to go, for the air around your favorite food stall is heavy with the scent of spices, both as seasoning and as something that assaults the senses. Some days, your eyes blink rapidly as Emphis throws down a dash of red powder into his hot wok. Other days, you catch him as he squeezes thickened liquid onto someone else’s fixing before loosely tossing together the meal and handing it off.

When he sees you, he gives you a nod and starts preparing your meal. You set aside the fifteen cryo necessary for it, and the two of you exchange money for food with a nod and what you hope is a smile. You’re still trying to find those requested mushrooms for him, but for now, you hope that he doesn't mind seeing your familiar face around here with nothing but cryo to spend on his food.

Emphis’s spiced fungus is one of the few things you feel is potent enough to stimulate your very limited taste sensors. You waste no time in stabbing a few of them onto your fork, along with some of the loose leaves mixed in, and shoveling it into your mouth. Immediately, your sensorium is sending warning signals repeatedly. Spicy, it alerts, spicy!

Spicy, you think to yourself as your feet tap the ground in bliss. A mixture of a sigh and a moan of delight escapes you as you will yourself to slow down and savor your meal. You don’t know what Emphis puts in here to make it so tasty, but you know that you’ll always come back here for more as a fungus fan.

Today, you consider licking the bowl clean. You manage to restrain yourself from it (as tempting as it was, just to get every last bit of the sauce that coats the mushrooms and leaves), and place it in the dirty dish container.

“Good luck Sleeper,” Emphis says as you turn to leave.

Reenergized, you spin on your heel to face him and give him a playful salute. Your eyes shine and you do your best to communicate a smile with your limited facial muscles. Whatever expression you manage to flash to him pulls a chuckle out of Emphis as he goes back to his wok.

“Thank you!” you shout, the remnants of the spicy fungus still leaving your taste sensors reeling. “And I’ll be back!”

Emphis’s bark of a laugh shoots through the market and settles into your body, energizing you just as his meals do.

------

2: Touch

You know this body of yours can metabolize food, as it likes to remind you every few cycles, or when you push yourself on a bad day. But it doesn’t require water, like a human body does. Still, you always wonder if it can metabolize something in between the two.

Namely, alcohol.

Alcohol is known for providing empty calories with nothing beyond that to boot. No vitamins or minerals, and it even dehydrates the drinker despite being liquid.

You, however, aren’t exactly normal by human standards. If anything, the alcohol should just give you energy.

At least, that was the plan before you had found yourself two drinks in, twelve cryo poorer, and harassed by a spacer. You didn’t know if it had been true malice towards you (and what you were), or if it had been a combination of the spacer’s own job stresses catching up to them as alcohol loosened the lips. All you had known was the sound of glass shattering on the floor, pointed words, then the owner of the bar coming to your rescue.

One, final glass had sailed towards your head, and in your hopes to salvage what little pride you had left, you had tried to catch it. The spacer’s words had rattled you more than you had liked, and the shot glass had instead become embedded in your arm in multiple small shards.

The owner of the Overlook Bar, Tala, clicks her tongue as she nurses your wounds. She takes her tweezers (they were more like pliers, but she said that she had sanitized them, so they were tweezers now) and gently picks out the shards from your arm. One hand stabilizes your arm as you prop it onto the bar table, while the other maneuvers the tweezers in a way that shows that this wasn’t her first rodeo.

You didn’t feel the pain of the glass entering your arm, and you don’t feel the pain of the glass leaving your arm either. You only feel the small status messages lightly pinging you about dermal damage and exposed structures. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in, waving away their repeated pings until they’re nothing but static in the background.

“You’re doing good so far, we’re almost done,” Tala says, voice low. She digs her tweezer into your arm to dig around for a small splinter that seems insistent on staying in you. She manages to pull it out, drops it into the metal container she brought along, and strokes your arm with her thumb. It’s warm and tender, juxtaposing her hard stare and pointed words towards the spacer from earlier. “If you need a break, let me know.”

You shake your head, and she continues her work. Her fingers brush over a scar on your forearm. It’s a rough little split, one that never healed up properly from your previous work at Essen-Arp. You forgot where exactly you got it from, but sometimes you find yourself rubbing it, near the end of a cycle. Was it a scar of defiance or one of pain? You hope it was the former.

Your eyes drift to observe Tala’s work. While you can’t exactly feel pain, you can feel other things. Vibration for one thing, as it’s often your first sign of a collapse in the work environment. Temperature, though dully so sleepers don’t get too comfortable for Essen-Arp’s liking. The different types of touch, you can feel to varying degrees. You can discern a tight hand on your shoulder and a soft nudge of another sleeper’s arm against your own.

Tala’s hands are warm, her grip on your arm firm and gentle. As she picks out the last of the glass splinters, she looks up and meets your gaze. A mix of a smile and a smirk crosses her face and you jolt a little in your seat. You look away and Tala’s laughter graces your ears. The tweezers clank into the metal container and you feel one of her hands squeezing yours tightly before letting go all too soon. “You did good Sleeper,” she says, her dark-colored eyes twinkling. “The Overlook is a safe place. I make sure it is. Now, if you’re looking for a place to stay, or a job, then just knock, alright?”

She places a firm hand on your shoulder and squeezes it once before patting it twice. “Just don’t become one of my drinking regulars,” she adds as she heads to the back to place her supplies away. “I’d hate to see that happen.”

You slowly step out of The Overlook, the memory of warm hands already fading on your physical body, but staying strong in your mind.

------

3: Hearing

Mina’s tour of her block (“Mine and daddy’s block!” she corrects you) leaves her pockets full of snacks, her face littered with crumbs, and the neighbors charmed at Lem’s daughter and her robot babysitter. Of course, they don’t call you that name, but Mina’s nickname for you sticks with some of the kids in the Lowend as the little girl calls out to some familiar faces. You’re a bit tired today, having used up most of your energy working elsewhere, but you had promised Lem that you’d watch over Mina while he works on the Siderail Horizon. His and Mina’s ticket off the Eye to a better life.

Maybe that would be your ticket off too. If you can get your tracker taken off you (Feng, maybe work a little faster on that?), then your opinions would open up.

But for now, you’re being dragged around the Lowend by Mina and Bun-Bun, the hand-sewn rabbit having seen better days. She drags you past a grocery store and you pick up her wiggling body before backtracking your steps. “Groceries, Mina. How about we surprise your dad tonight, hm?”

Mina’s face twists into something unrecognizable as one of her arms finds its place around your neck. She lets out a small huff. “I miss daddy,” she murmurs as you enter the grocery store and pick up a basket. She wriggles around in your arm and you pause to readjust her and give her one of her pocketed snacks. The sound of her crunching near your audio processors shouldn’t bother you a lot, but today it does. You don’t dare show it on your face.

Despite your energy being stable, your condition is fading. You can feel your joints aching more, the smaller things setting you off. Despite having enough energy for the day, you can’t do as much. You have one vial of stabilizer left, but saving up for another has been a bit of trouble. You often have to decide between not starving or setting your cryo aside for your medicine. Not starving often wins nowadays.

You fork over the cryo to pay, watching the metal chits holding the money get stored away by the cashier. Maybe you can pick up a shift elsewhere in exchange for some cryo or free food. You leave with Mina’s cheek resting against your shoulder. You rush back to Lem’s apartment and drop off the groceries before warming up some food for her. You take a slate and open up some books to read to Mina.

The sound of your voice and warm food in her stomach soothes Mina to sleep, and you don’t dare move, even when the apartment door jiggles open and Lem steps in. His eyes are tired but they light up when they see you two. He drops his things off and carefully picks up his daughter, hushing her as she squirms a little in his arms. As he carefully moves to her room, you stand up and feel a few of your joints lock up. Your voice box hisses quietly as you stand there, waiting, begging your body to move a little soon. Eventually, your body listens just as Lem steps out and closes the door behind him.

“Hey, Sleeper,” he half-whispers, half-sighs. “Thanks for…you know.” His head jerks towards Mina’s room. “Groceries too.” He shuffles over to the bags and looks through what you picked out. They were things that were on sale mostly, though you had tried to get a few nutritious options for Mina. “Do you want to stay for dinner? Maybe a drink?”

“Please,” you say, already drifting forward to help. “I’d appreciate it.”

The kitchenette can’t easily accommodate both you and Lem, so you’re jokingly pushed off to the table to help chop things up while Lem bares the heat of the gas stove. The dish is simple, but it’s hot and fills you up. Lem pours you a drink and you accept it to be polite. Conversation is heavy tonight, as Lem confesses a few things about himself and Mina. How she’s not really his, the guilt he feels over it and his actions. If what he did was giving Mina a good life right now.

You stay silent as the conversation lags, the bustle of the Lowend slowly fading as the cycle comes to a close. You don’t know why you decided to do this, but if anyone asks, it was the alcohol.

You stand up and press the side of your head against Lem’s chest. Your audio processors pick up on how his heart stumbles and quickens, and you barely catch the sound of his lungs sharply inhaling (though that might be the sound of his mouth, not his lungs…you might inject your stabilizer tonight).

You stay there for a long time, maybe a minute or two. Your hand presses against your bare chest, feeling the emptiness there. Your body houses an emulated mind, but it can’t be reprogrammed. You breathe because the human mind will panic otherwise, scared that it’s choking. You eat because your body can metabolize the energy, reminding the mind of what it’s like to consume something. You close your eyes and listen to that steady beat, imagining it in your own chest.

Lem’s hand finds its way on your head, stroking you before you shift and move away. The house seems louder now: each creak pounds at your head, a whirr of a machine providing heating and cooling buzzes nearby, and you can hear your own shallow quiet breaths.

“Sorry,” you manage to choke out.

Lem rubs his eyes, face flushed from the drink. In the dim lighting, you almost miss how his hand twitches closer to where your head once was. “It’s okay, Sleeper.”

“It’s getting late,” you say. “I should go back.” The word ‘home’ lingers in your mouth, but you avoid saying it. “Thanks for the meal.” As you step away, your processors pinging you with irrelevant things like ‘warm temperature’, you hear Lem shift towards you again. You turn around and jolt as his face nearly meets your own.

“Thank you again, Sleeper,” he whispers. “For looking after our daughter.”

On your way back to your empty container, your home for now, the words ‘our daughter’ tumble around your head until you close your eyes and dream of a little girl’s laughter on a planet far, far away.

------

4: Smell

Some days, when you’re low on energy and can’t risk a lot more for cryo, you step into Min-Gi Express for work and a guaranteed meal afterwards. When you open the door and step inside, the smell of salty noodles, hot broth, and savory sauces almost immediately wafts over you as Lowenders order, some with take-out to enjoy in their units, some to enjoy in the small dining space Min-Gi provides.

Min-Gi gives you a nod and jerks his head to the door leading to the basement. You clean your hands and step in, the stairs creaking with your weight. The air is saltier here, thick with a dampness that’s different from the steam above. The kelp stack is a dry golden brown, and a packet of white powder sits nearby for you to use alongside some water. The kelp is already clean and dehydrated, so you set about pulverizing it with a machine that used to clank loudly before you fixed it up.

You mix the powdered kelp with a few scoops of water and the white powder (sodium…something; you’re not really a chef, you’re just following what Min-Gi taught you) and mix them before molding them and twisting them into a tangled nest. The noodles are a pale white, almost clear like glass. Customers here say that a long, long time ago, kelp noodles were a healthy food craze. Now though? Kelp noodles are just food, something to eat and enjoy.

The work is mechanical to you, something to zone out to and think. You had messed up a batch or two a few times, but each time you would get fed. Sure, you had to eat your botched noodles because Min-Gi couldn’t serve anything less than ideal to his customers (and they’re unpleasantly gooey…just thinking about the texture makes you shiver), but you still eat something.

The money you get from noodle making is just a small bonus.

Min-Gi steps down a few hours later to check up on your work. His eyes scan the batches you’ve already made with a discerning look, then he nods. “Good.” He takes a tray up to the kitchen and leaves you alone once again.

When the door shuts, it carries with it a small blast of air from the kitchen above. It’s always a strong salty smell upstairs, one that clings to your clothes long after you leave and quite possibly sticks with you for a few days afterwards. Sure, it can make you a bit nauseous after smelling it for too long, especially if your condition is low or if you freshly injected your stabilizer (you remember one such moment: you had woken up the cycle after injecting it and the smell of Min-Gi’s food on your clothes had been so strong to your newly refreshed body that you couldn’t summon the energy to go out and do much, so you had stayed in your home hacking systems instead), but it was familiar, and it was energy for yourself.

You quite dislike starving yourself.

Another few hours pass by and Min-Gi brings down a hot bowl of soup for you made with the noodles you made today, along with a few cryo. You raise the noodles to your mouth and slurp it down. First the heat hits your sensors, then the salty taste. As you eat your well-deserved meal, you let your mind drift off to the oceans that these kelp came from. How far away were they? For kelp noodles and a price this cheap, perhaps there’s a place on the Eye where kelp is grown.

Maybe you can find it and smell the salty ocean yourself.

You finish your bowl and exhale.

Maybe without too much kelp though.

------

5: Sight

Zero gravity is an interesting situation for your sensorium. On one hand, you don’t have to worry about feeling nauseous to the point of physically puking everywhere, which is what some spacers unfortunately experience. Gross and embarrassing. On the other hand, your senses aren’t built to experience zero gravity when your condition isn’t optimal and stable, and even less so when you go beyond flickering to fading to dying.

You’re working on changes for that, tinkering with your body with pieces of scrap that you find and sometimes buy. So far, your scrap is useful for repairing your body to stave off the need for stabilizer, though not by a lot. You also manage to unlock your photosynthetic skin, allowing you to spend some of your energy under the lights of the Eye to avoid starving via producing glucose like a plant. On top of that, you manage to better your work with digital interfaces, sometimes finding yourself five cryo richer from intercepting others. Now, you’re not going to share how that happens; some things are best to remain a secret. You’re also working on improving your more social aspects, so you feel like you’re doing pretty good with the different ways you can approach your problems.

As you float in Gimbal Lounge, surrounded by other spacers heading through for a very nutritious but otherwise very bland meal, your gaze drifts down to down to a part of the Eye that you have yet to explore. A lush green stretch of land floating precariously in space, disconnected from the rest of the Eye in both physicality and data-wise.

You had figured out the toll to board the Founder’s Ferry to get to that section, and it was a painstaking 150 cryo. That’s the cost of one, maybe two doses of your stabilizer. 150 cryo. It’s a one-time fee thankfully, so your plan is to save up at least 200 cryo before handing over the fee to explore what lies beyond the Founder’s Gap.

For now though, you can look at it and wistfully imagine.

Your gaze shifts from the green stripe of the Eye to the other parts that you’re more familiar with. Down the Free Spoke that allows you to access the zero-gravity section of The Hub, you spot the Lowend, where Yatagan tries to keep some sort of government and control over the people living there. You idly remember the caches of Havenage data you had hacked over the past few days, and consider selling it to them. Then again, you also have caches of Yatagan data you can sell to Havenage.

You quietly laugh to yourself and shake your head. The government here is so confusing and as much as you would rather avoid it all, the political groups here always seem to drag you back into it, one way or another. Whether it be for your stabilizer, a favor, food, connections, you always find yourself being pulled into the lives of everyone here.

Beyond the Lowned and the Bright Market, your eyes pass over the Rotunda and the Shipyard, then they settle on Drago’s scrapyard and your first home: an empty container. It’s also currently your only home, but you’re hoping that the derelict unit you found in the Lowend would be your new one — or at least a second one — soon.

You push yourself out of your seat in the Gimbal Lounge, having long finished your spacer meal, and float there for a breath. Two breaths.

Then, you hear the tell-tale sign of someone retching nearby and you quickly push yourself away and towards the door. You’ve already seen what vomit looks like in zero-gravity once, and you don’t really want to see it again.

You float and bounce around outside, surrounded by the endless expenses of space around you. Above, below, and all around your sides, are millions of bright stars. You never had enough time to admire the stars back in your time at Essen-Arp, and now that you can admire them without risk of someone punishing you for it, you think that the stars are the most beautiful thing ever.

------

+1: Data Mind

There’s a certain place in the Eye where you feel almost untouchable. Physically so, unless someone manages to touch you and jolt you out of it, but you never enter that place unless you’re in a quiet and safe area. That was usually at home in your empty crate, but the formerly derelict unit is now fully repaired and yours and you can access the Data Cloud in the Lowend a little easier now. Gone are the days of straining your emulated mind to traverse through the thick web of data to reach far-off nodules, and you thank yourself for that.

You wonder how it must look to others: you closing your eyes before your body slumping against a wall. You know your body’s not useless down there, but it’s almost as if your senses to your physicality are dulled, instead becoming highly attuned to the web-like structures of the Data Cloud. It’s like you’re floating in a dream, where you know you have something tethering yourself to the waking world, but if you dare look down at yourself to try to visualize or feel that anchor, you might wake up and interrupt your hacking.

Your usual activities in the Data Cloud are saved for your low-energy days. Havenage and Yatagan leaks are easy enough to hack into and sell, but occasionally Feng has you try to hack into higher-security systems, which take up more of your energy. You grumble at those sometimes, but the promise of your tracker being removed from you keeps you working at it.

Today however, in your rented Kisho Capsule on the Hub (Capsule 0451, you think to yourself as you frantically enter the Data Cloud, Capsule 0451), you throw the entirety of your energy towards the three nodules of highly encrypted data that hold the Hub’s fading Data Cloud together. Get rid of those, and you have a chance to run back to where you had slotted the shipmind holding NEOVEND — no, Navigator — and save the sentient entity from Killer.

How you had managed to escape the strange vortex that’s holding Navigator captive, you don’t know. What you do know is that you’re not sure how much time you have before Killer’s sharp, blind head will find Navigator in the void of the Data Cloud.

You unlock one nodule, and the Data Cloud shudders. You feel it slightly in your physical body: a pulse in your head and a twitch in your limbs. Your emulated mind, floating in the Data Cloud, processes it as a full body shudder. You press your mouth shut and float to the other two nodules.

The second nodule you undo sends a shiver down your spine.

Quiet clicks sound behind you, the sound of a quadruped moving towards its prey. You barely manage to hear a faint whooshing, like a knife being swung through air.

You freeze. Hold your breath.

Killer’s sharp head slices the space to one side of you. From your peripheral vision, you see the protocol’s gouged eye sockets. If it still had eyes, what would it look like? What would be its emotion, if any, as the protocol hunts you down?

One end of Killer’s bladed head nicks your shoulder.

You stay silent, still. If you pretend you’re dead, then maybe Killer will stalk past you.

Killer moves away and disappears into the void.

You pull your mind back into your physical body, your hand already clutching your shoulder as sharp pain blooms deep within it, radiating out. You feel your condition slip, and without caring about other potential renters in the capsules, you scream. You scream until you feel tired, until you’re sure your vocal processors are raw and crackling. No one has knocked on your door.

You dive back in and rush to hack the last nodule, reentering your body and rushing out before you can fully settle in. Your head spins as you bounce and float to Navigator’s physical location.

The Data Cloud might be perfect for your low energy days, but something always feels good about your physical body gripping cords and ripping them out of their sockets.

Take that, Killer.

#Ima Writes #original writing #writing #my writing #citizen sleeper #ao3 #5 + 1 things

7 notes · View notes

theverumproject · 9 months ago

Note

hihi verum! i wanted to ask how it’s been writing your first story! what’s the process like for you? has it gotten tough to stick with? how do you go about issues in your writing?

hope you have a great day :>

Hello! Thank you for your questions and excuse me for answering a bit late (I like to take my time, lol)

How has It been writing your first story?

Writing Verum has had a little up, then a giant down and now it has been going up again since this year. The first book took me three years to complete, while it is only more or less 15 k long! I began the second book this year in April, and I think it's at about 40 k words right now, nearing the end of season 1. So at the moment, it is going great!

What's the process like for you?

I write everything down that comes to my mind. Be it a whole book or a very small detail to some alien species' biology. That's kind of how I build the story in my head. When I begin with a book, I write down all my ideas for the book and what should roughly happen in the different parts. One to five sentences are enough, though sometimes I also write down more, depending on how much I already got in my mind.

When I wanna write a part, I first make a description of it, where I just write down everything that comes to my mind and start to plot. It should be at least 500 words long, though recently it's been getting more and more. My newest description is over 2.6 k words long, longer than my minimum word count of 1.5 k, woopsies.

Once that is done I start actually writing the part. Like I already mentioned, my minimum is 1500 words, but my parts have been becoming longer too. The latest part is over 7 k words long, also woopsies.

I always give myself one month to write 10 k. And until now, I have always reached it. I use NaNoWriMo to keep track of that. Giving myself a goal to reach has really helped me!!!

I edit in between of my "writing months". For example, I write three parts, edit them, write another three parts, edit all six of them, write another three parts, edit all nine of them, and so on and forth.

Not sure if I understood your question right, but I hope this answer is good enough!

Has it gotten tough to stick with it?

Writing the first book really has been tough. I had no... Discipline nor motivation. That's also probably why it's not that good. It's kind of half assed, I guess?

But since writing the second book it has been going wonderful! The toughest part of it is actually figuring out how to write some things, or when there are plot holes and I don't know how to fix them. Or simply just beginning to write. But once I start another month, I have no other choice but to write.

How do you go about issues in your writing?

So, while I write the whole part for the very first time (after the description), I try to ignore all issues and questions that pop up and simply just write them into the text (like this). One of the simplest issues is for example:

There's a part where Arushi and Zri'Kla go hunting. They live in an Indian jungle, but I don't know what kind of animals live in an Indian jungle. I need one though that isn't too big to carry, but it also needs to have enough flesh on it to feed them for a little bit. So instead of thinking about what animal it is while writing, I simply just write down something like this; "The arrow pierced the (animal)'s flesh". I solve all issues while editing.

But when it comes to issues that affect the plot and stuff like that, I have write down the questions on notes. I often think about Verum throughout the day, so my questions often just get randomly answered. I just need to write it down before I might forget it again.

I think my own brain sometimes gaslight me though. I have a question and a simple answer that is not good enough. I look for a better one, but can't find one. And then suddenly I think that the first answer is alright I think it's a form of giving up.

Sorry for this wall of text! Hope I didn't ramble too much.

8 notes · View notes

hyperfixatingmenever · 1 year ago

Text

Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams | Part 2/2 | 8.5 K | Mature

Title: Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/ Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8.5K

Cross-posted on Ao3 here

A/N: I wrote part 1 (which I'd recommend reading first) for @theassbuttchronicles back in 2021, but I also wrote a dream that didn't make the final cut, which broke my heart because it was actually the first thing I wrote for the fic. BUT three years later, I've finally finished the fic! I hope everyone can enjoy it, but more importantly, experience the emotional turmoil of the dream with me! lol

"Son of a bitch!"

A sharp, stinging feeling shot through Frankie's hand; he had sliced it open while working on one of the helos he flew for instructing. The cut on Frankie's hand didn't feel like an emergency, but considering he knew you were working, and he cut it on metal, he thought, two birds, one stone. While holding pressure on his hand, he glanced around, looking for some type of fabric to help with the bleeding. The only thing within reach was his dirty, greasy hand rag. He rolled his eyes, knowing the lecture that was in store for him when you saw him. Accepting his fate, he wrapped his hand and headed over to the base clinic.

As he walked into the ER, he saw you busy working, bouncing between helping patients and other staff. He saw you smile and laugh with a fellow army medic. Your smile could light up his darkest days, and it had before. Without knowing, Frankie started to smile, feeling your warmth from across the room.

Out of his daze, he walked up to the registration desk. The sitting area was nearly empty, with only a couple of people since it was already late in the afternoon.

"Hi, Francisco Morales, 75-585-468."

"Frankie! What are you doing here?"

Picking up his head, he looks into your piercing eyes as you walk towards him. He lifted his hands clasped together, showing his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh Jesus"

Leaning forward, you tell the nurse at the registration desk to not worry about it, ‘I'll take care of him.’

Blush starts to rise a little in his cheeks, but he looks down and hides his face under his favourite 'standard heating oil' cap.

"Come on, Frankie, follow me," motioning to follow you down the hallway to a more private room.

"Okay, let me take a look at it."

Taking a deep breath, Frankie releases the pressure and shows you his hand.

"Jesus, Frankie, is this a dirty rag?"

"I couldn't find anything else!"

He waited for you to give him shit, but he saw you take a deep breath and say, "I'm just happy you're okay. I worry about you."

As you cleaned out the wound, you also ordered a tetanus shot and eventually gave him a couple of butterfly stitches.

"You know there are mechanics on base. It's literally their job to keep all the machinery running. Why are you doing repairs to your own helo?"

"Because I know more than most of those idiots! I don't want to be in deep water just because one of those hijos de puta tontos forgot to do something. If I'm going to take 33,000 pounds of metal up into the sky, I sure as hell want to know it's up to snuff."

He can feel the crease in between his eyebrows as he starts to get angry, but that soon melts away as you jokingly massage it with your pointer finger.

“Well, look at you! Flying and fixing, how did you become a jack of all trades?" You softly chuckled.

“Well, my Abuelo could fix anything, but he loved fixing cars and planes in particular. With my mom always busy at work, I spent most of my time with him in the garage, or we would drive to a hangar and fix up a plane. I started out by just handing him tools, but eventually, I learned everything he knew, and I started helping him when I got older."

"Awe, I bet baby Frankie was cute! All covered in grease."

"Are you saying I'm not cute now?" Frankie says in a teasing tone, even though some part of him is completely serious. He wanted even a small piece of hope that could show that you cared about him the same way he cared about you.

He sees you roll your eyes as you start to bandage his hand.

"You know I’m not always going to be here to help with your cuts and bruises, right?"

"But I don’t know what I'd do without my favourite medic," Frankie shoots back, giving his go-to smirk — trying to cover up the hurt around the idea of you somehow not being in his life anymore.

The two of you talk as you continue to wrap his hand. Talk about Rebecca and that horrendous date. In the small silence, Frankie lets slip. "She just wasn't the one.”

Honestly, he knew that even before the date because 'the one' for him was carefully bandaging his hand. The one who worried about him. The one who took care of him. The one standing in front of him.

You finally break the silence, showing that you've finished with his hand. He thanked you, and you both walked toward the nurses’ station. Frankie thinks about how easy it would be to hold your hand as your fingers innocently brushed up against each other while walking. Instead, he just keeps walking down the hall as you stop at the nurse's station.

Stopping in his tracks, he remembers movie night and turns back towards you.

"HEY, MI CIELO! Don't forget movie night at my place on Friday!"

Frankie can't help but smile while leaving, thinking about you and your threat of physical violence toward Benny. Man, he couldn't wait for Friday night.

-----

"What do you mean you're not coming!"

"Allison finally agreed to let me take her on a date, but she's only free tonight."

"Wait, who's Allison? Is she the one with red hair or the one who never stops showing pictures of her hikes?"

"Neither"

"Pope, I can't keep up with you," he rubbed his face and groaned as he continued to push the cart with his elbows. "You can't cancel Pope! Will and Benny both canceled this morning! If you don't come, it will just be Cielo and me!"

"Maybe that's for the best'' Santi's playful tone came from the other side of the phone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He retorts gruffly, already done with his best friend’s shit.

"You and I both know you’ve been dancing around your feelings for her since day one; maybe you should buck up and make a move Hermano."

"I can't! What if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't lose my best friend."

"Best friend? I'm hurt, Hermano. I thought what we had was special."

Frankie can imagine Santi dramatically clutching his heart. "You know what I mean," rolling his eyes at this whole conversion.

"Well, I still can't come. So I hope you two have a good time. I'll talk to you later. Good luck!"

And before Frankie could respond, Santi had hung up on him.

Frankie puts his phone in his back pocket as he continues to wander the aisles. He looked down at his cart full of groceries, snacks, and drinks. Even though it was now just the two of you tonight, the amount of food he got could feed a small army.

As Frankie heads towards the till, he's distracted by the flower section. He couldn't buy you flowers, right? Unless? No. It was already going to be weird, just the two of you; the last thing he wanted to do was ever make you feel uncomfortable. As Frankie lost himself in thought, an older man came up beside him and said, "She must be a special girl."

Tongue-tied, Frankie didn't know what to say. She was a special girl, but she was more than that. She also wasn't his girl. He didn't know what to do.

"My Winifred's favourite was tulips."

He reached down and grabbed a small thing of pink tulips. Giving them a light shake as he took them out of the water.

"It never hurts to surprise them with flowers, make them feel appreciated. They do so much for us, always caring for us."

He was right; even though he and Cielo weren't together, they always took care of each other.

Giving Frankie a small clap on his bicep, "And don't forget to always cherish her."

Frankie gave a small smile and nodded as the old man walked away. Frankie looked at the flowers for another second before picking up some sunflowers and continuing towards the till.

-----

The day slowly progressed; he put everything away and placed the sunflowers in water on the kitchen table. He wouldn't give them to you, but they reminded him of your smile. He made fresh popcorn with butter before running off upstairs to change.

"FRANKIE?"

Hearing you call his name while walking into his house always felt like a dream. He could imagine you walking into the home you shared together, calling his name, declaring your arrival. He would hug you and pepper you with kisses as you came home.

The night that this felt closest to the truth was one random Tuesday. It was the first time you didn't bother knocking; you just walked in… to his home. You walked in, grabbed a beer, and landed on the couch; he eventually brought you a plate of food and shared dumb stories about his students. As you threw your head back laughing, Frankie knew at that exact moment that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

But in reality, he never made any of his friends knock. It was well known his door was never locked, and you could just waltz in, but you were different.

"Up here! Coming!" Frankie rushes down the stairs to greet you, still rearranging the clothes on his body.

-----

Surprisingly you hadn't picked 'The Princess Bride,’ which he knew was your favourite movie. He'd never tell anyone this, but when he was having a dark day or missed you, he would watch 'The Princess Bride’ and think of you.

The both of you had watched 'Wonder Woman' and then put on 'Prospect,’ but as the night started to fall, Frankie's eyelids did as well.

-Dream-

Images of Cielo flashed through Frankie's mind. He couldn't help but smile. Cielo was the one good constant in Frankie's life; when things became too much, he always knew you would be there for him. But his lovely, warm memories of you were quickly distorted and changed into what he could only describe as a nightmare.

"Guys, this is Aaron. Aaron, these are the guys, Will, Benny, Santiago, and Frankie."

Aaron’s arm casually around your waist drove Frankie crazy; he could feel his jaw tightening. Thinking that it should be his arm around your waist, his shoulder you lean your tired head against, and finally, you should be leaving in his truck instead of some fucking Prius. Frankie saw a flurry of snapshots and nightmarish memories of Aaron and your life together. Starting with a simple date where Aaron reaches over and squeezes your hand, and you look at him with so much love and potential.

"That should be me she's looking at like that," Frankie thought, but as soon as it started, new images flashed in front of Frankie, Aaron holding you as you cry, movie nights with just Aaron and you. The last one making Frankie physically wince, Aaron rolling off of you, both of you breathless,

"That was incredible," you say while still trying to catch your breath, looking over at Aaron, propping yourself up on one of your elbows before leaning down and mumbling against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie didn't think it could get any worse; he was wrong.

"We're getting married!" You shriek as you wrap your arms around Aaron’s torso. Benny was the first to offer congratulations, hugging you and picking you up off the ground. But while Will was walking towards you to give his congratulations, Frankie was stuck. He didn't understand, how could you be marrying this guy? His eyes unfocused, and stared off into the distance. His head started to race, but before he could completely spiral, he felt a large wack on his shoulder.

Santi leans in and whispers in his ear, "Come on, Hermano, you’ve got to get it together and go congratulate her." Frankie knew he was right; he came out of his daze, walked forward, and wrapped his arms around you. He put his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent like it was the last time.

Pulling back slightly, "Congratulations, Cielo."

Frankie started to feel uneasy; his stomach began to tie in knots. Suddenly, Frankie was in his tactical gear in the middle of the jungle; he didn't know what he was doing here? He was no longer on active duty; his current job was to teach new pilots how to control a helicopter under extreme conditions. It had been years since he was in full tactical.

It felt heavier than usual… without explicitly knowing that there was a picture in his breast pocket, he took it out and realized why he felt heavier. Tears started to well in his eyes; he turned the picture over and read, "30 weeks. Come home safe, Frankie. This baby needs to meet their godfather."

Silently, Frankie started to cry. Crying over the fact that you were pregnant, that the baby wasn't his, but also over the reality of how happy you were. Happy without him. Frankie turned the picture over and started to caress your face and your bump carefully. Frankie loved you with every ounce of himself, and he would choose your happiness over his every single time. He knew there was nothing for him to do; it was too late to confess his love, but he also knew that he wanted to be in your life, and this baby’s, in any capacity he could, and if "godfather" was his role then so be it.

Suddenly there was loud banging in the distance, gunfire? Frankie's breathing hitched, and then, like some sort of glitch, the picture was no longer in his hands but a gun and the photo on the muddy ground. Frankie bent down to pick up the picture of you, but out of nowhere, he was tackled.

"Estúpido hijo de puta! What the hell were you thinking, Frankie? We're being shot at, and you're just standing there like target practice?!" Santi kept his voice quiet, but that didn't mean he wasn't yelling at Frankie.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Frankie says, completely confused.

"You need to get your head out of the Sky and help me eliminate this last guy shooting at us so we can go home."

Frankie nods; he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.

"Okay, you go left. I’ll go right. They seem to be following us, so maybe we can surprise them from behind."

Frankie follows Pope's instructions and gives a wide berth to the left in hopes of trapping and surprising the person after the two of them. Frankie slowly crept through the jungle, keeping the end of his gun butted against his shoulder and his eyes keeping track of Pope through glimpses in the foliage. Frankie saw the person after them; he stopped and made eye contact with Pope. Pope gave a small nod. Frankie raised his gun and shot twice in center mass. The body crumpled. Frankie and Pope stalked towards the body. Frankie looked around the body for the gun, but there was none?

Frankie turns over the body… shock hits Frankie's entire body like a wave crashing over him. What had he done, what had he done! He dropped to his knees and cradled your body; Frankie’s gloved hand moved some stray hairs from your face. "Mi Cielo, what are you doing here? Baby, why are you here?" He starts to rock your body and cries, "I'm so sorry, so so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. Come back to me". Frankie feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up as Pope looks down at him. "This is your fault, Frankie, she's here because you never told her." As soon as he hears that, he can't speak, he can't move, everything is heavy, this is his fault. Suddenly BANG!

-End Of Dream-

Frankie jumped up from the couch in a terrible panic, trying to comprehend what was happening. His eyes dart around the room; he sees a broken plate on the floor and sees you step toward him. Scared of hurting you, he takes a step back. You're trying to talk to him, but it's all garbled; he can't make anything out. Violently, he shakes his head, hoping that everything will go back to normal. Finally, your sweet voice comes to him.

"Frankie, everything is okay, you're safe, I'm right here,"

As he looks down at his hand, he can see the blood that was there as he held your lifeless body in the jungle. Words tumble from his mouth. Part of him knows he doesn't make any sense, but all he knows is he has to keep you safe. Keeping you safe is all he cares about, and to keep you safe, he had to get away from you.

"I need you to stay back!"

Frankie ran into the nearest room and locked the door. He can hear you running after him, but as he slides down against the bathroom wall, everything feels like it's closing in on him. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, but the more he focuses on his breathing, the more he panics that he can't get it under control. He can feel himself spiraling; he's shaking, crying, hell, he can't even breathe right, but seconds before he feels like he's going to pass out, he hears you humming.

Humming a sweet melody, he doesn't know the song, but it makes him feel safe. You always make him feel safe. As he focuses on your humming, unconsciously, his breathing starts to even out, and he wipes away some tears. Frankie tended to feel nothing or everything after an attack like this. His hands were still shaking a bit, but when he focused on you, he felt better.

“Frankie? I'm going to go clean up the plate. Just call if you need me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

God, her tone was so sweet, which only made this hurt more. This was just supposed to be a typical movie night so she could get her mind off work, but he had to ruin everything, like always. All he wanted to do was go out and act as if nothing had happened, but he couldn't look into your eyes. He didn't want to show you how broken he was.

Frankie was unsure how much time had passed, but then you finally spoke, “You need to let me in, Frankie...please.”

That broke something inside of him. Hearing your plea, realizing how much this was hurting you, he never wanted to hurt you. That’s why he ran. He didn't want to be the reason to hear such hurt in your voice, but as he reached for the doorknob, his mind betrayed him.

“You don't deserve her. You'll always hurt her. She was happier with Aaron. You could never make her happy.”

As if these words caused him physical harm, he winced and pulled his hand back. His head is low as he took a deep breath, trying to hush these thoughts "...I don't want you to see me like this…"

She says something that makes Frankie chuckle, but before she can continue, he reaches for the doorknob again. He stands and slowly opens the door, revealing him behind. You take his non-bandaged hand in yours and, with your other, wipe the tears that still must be rolling down his cheeks. Your hands are so soft; he never wants to forget your touch. Gently, you pulled Frankie into a hug, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly; he stuck his nose in the crook of your neck. Frankie had never felt safer than in your arms, your fingers tangling in his hair as you rubbed circles on his back.

Eventually, Frankie starts to let go but only far enough to rest his forehead on yours; he stares into your eyes; his eyes then fall to your lips. Trying to alleviate any of the tension that was in the air, the first thing Frankie thought of slipped through his lips. "So, is this where we kiss?"

As soon as it leaves his lips, he wants to take it back.

Quickly changing the subject, you ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Frankie can’t even begin to explain how much he doesn't want to do that. Honestly would rather do anything because the only thing that could make this night worse was seeing pity in your eyes. “Can we just talk about anything else other than that?”

What Frankie wasn't expecting was your reply. “Sure.”

As you lead him to the couch and sit down, he lays his head on your lap without even thinking, only knowing that he needs to be close to you, touching you. You talk about everything that comes to mind. As you talk, he can feel you play with his hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys as your nails gently brush across his scalp.

"Frankie, why do you call me Mi Cielo? I know it means 'my sky,’ but I don't understand why you would call me that? I asked Santi in the past, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me."

Frankie groans. The only thing worse than you asking this question is you asking Santi first. Unable to look you in the eyes, Frankie explains his name for you, making sure to keep out a couple of details.

-Flashback-

“How about Mi Cielo?”

The rest of the guys give each other side glances before all bursting into laughter.

Santi, still laughing, said, “You can call her whatever you want. When it's just the two of you in bed.” Giving you a large smirk, “But we need a name we all can use.”

Frankie throws one of Santi’s many throw pillows that cover his couch at him. “Fuck you! It's not like that!”

Benny was now getting in on the teasing. “Oh, then what is it like?”

“We’re just friends! Just like the rest of us!” Frankie gestures to the three guys sitting around him.

While sipping his beer, Will quietly adds, “Man, I hope you don't look at us like that while our backs are turned.”

Frankie’s head whips towards Will, but Will’s comment has already sent the other two men back into hysterics. Frankie can feel his cheeks starting to get hot, so he gets up and grabs another beer from the fridge. Frankie throws back the bit he has left before opening the new one.

Santi walks in and grabs the new beer out of Frankie’s hand before he can drink it and takes a sip. “You know we’re just kidding, right?

Frankie glares at Santi as he turns around and grabs another beer.

“You're our brother; we’re going to give you shit, It's inevitable, but we do want you to be happy. She makes you happy, and even though you can't see it, you make her happy.”

Frankie waves off his comment as he takes a sip of his new beer.

“I’m serious! I wish you two idiotas could see yourselves. You guys have already wasted what? Seven years? I know you guys weren't in a good place when you first met.”

Pope was alluding to the coke. Frankie was now clean, three years sober. It was still a daily struggle, but there was no part of him that ever wanted you to see him like that again.

“But what I'm getting at is that you both have grown. You lean on each other. Hell, didn't you once meet her family?”

“Yeah…”

“Exactly! Now you've just gotta make a move! Because I don't know how many more barbeques I can take where you’re both looking at each other longingly when the other isn't looking.”

Frankie takes another sip. “I don't know, Hermano. I know I love her.” Frankie realizes this is the first time he has said it out loud, partially wide-eyed. He continues, “I want to be with her, but if she says no...I don't know what I’ll do. Part of me is happy with her just in my life, even just as friends.”

Frankie leans against the island with his elbows and rubs his face with his hands. “I don't know what I’d do without her, Pope.”

Santi claps him on the back. “I know, Hermano.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Benny yelled loud enough for Frankie and Santi to hear in the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll ask her out! How do you say it again? Pre-ci-ooo-sa?” (Frankie didn't even know you could butcher Spanish that badly)

Shaking their heads, Santi and Frankie both simultaneously say, “Maldito gringo”

-End Of Flashback-

When Frankie finished his explanation of your nickname, he saw you start to stare off. Thankfully, you were too preoccupied zoning out and playing with Frankie’s hair to see the red tint that slowly crept up his face. Frankie enjoyed the soft touches of your fingers intertwined within his messy curls, wishing he could stay like this forever. But you somehow caught him stifling a yawn. "Let’s get you to bed.”

Frankie was incredibly thankful you agreed to stay; he didn't know what he'd do if he had another nightmare like before. Hearing your steady heartbeat and even breathing kept him calm, but as he lost himself in the rhythm, that's when he heard — your confession. Frankie doesn't move; he’s got to be dreaming, right? His brain is playing a trick on him. You could never love him; he’s just a broken man. As his brain tries to process your confession, he can feel your breathing get shallower; you’ve fallen asleep. He lifts his head, looks at your peaceful face, and thinks, “I love you too, Mi Celio.” He places his head back on your chest and immediately falls asleep.

-----

This was the best sleep Frankie had had in years; he could imagine the rest of his life sleeping right beside you. In between conscious and unconsciousness, Frankie reaches out for you to pull you back toward his body, but all he feels is empty sheets. His eyes instantly open as he sits up to scan the empty bed and the empty room.

Where could you have gone? Could you have just left him in the middle of the night? Before heartbreak overtakes him, he sees the light coming out from under the bathroom door; he throws off the blankets, runs over to the door, and tosses it open. Your eyes meet as the bathroom door swings open; you’re at the sink washing your hands.

Seeing your eyes makes everything better. You didn't leave; you stayed; it wasn't a dream; you did love him. He leans into your hand, and everything feels better.

Frankie opens his eyes and asks, “Are you hungry?”

-----

“Can we talk about you kissing me?”

He could have been more delicate, but he was thinking hard about what to say. The words just tumbled from his mouth as he looked at you across the kitchen.

Seeing you start to backpedal made a small part of his mind doubt what he knew. But his love for you won out. He knew how you felt, and he knew he loved you, and he told you just that.

“I love you too.”

-----

The next couple of hours felt like a dream. You both confessed your love for each other, he finally got to kiss you (and taste you), and he got to worship your body as you deserved. After he rolled off of you, both of you still breathless, you turned your head towards him and said: "That was incredible… that was beyond incredible."

Frankie gave a goofy smile to himself, proud to have satisfied you better than your imaginary boyfriend he made up. But just like in his dream, you propped yourself up, leaned down, and mumbled against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie took further care of you, wiping you down with a warm face cloth and gently reminding you to pee. As he laid in bed waiting for you, he knew he wanted to take care of you for as long as you'd have him. He wanted this for the rest of his life: you taking care of each other. When you crawl back into bed, he wraps his arms around you, wanting you as close as possible, and the both of you fall peacefully asleep tangled together.

-----

Frankie woke up the best way he could ever imagine, with you leaning over him, slowly kissing his face. A smile on his face grew, and he greeted you, "Good morning." And with your warm smile matching his, you greet him as well. "Morning, Frankie."

He pulled you in with his bandaged hand to continue this kiss. After a minute or two, you pull back, Frankie’s lips pursed forward, wanting more, but you stopped to say something. "Oh, by the way, Santi stopped by and wanted to gossip with you, but I told him you were busy."

"Oh, am I?" Frankie said, completely joking. At this moment, he couldn’t care less about Santi. The only person he cared about at this moment was in his arms with the most addicting lips.

"Yes, extremely busy," her lips attached to Frankies. Their lips fought for dominance, but Frankie won when he flipped the both of you, so he was on top. With a small gasp, your mouth opened, and he used this to his advantage. As Frankie's hands traveled down your body and got to the bottom of your shirt, he realized something was different; this didn't feel like the shirt you had been wearing earlier this morning. He broke the long kiss between you two, both of you already breathless, and he looked down.

"Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it. Is that okay?” He can tell you're a little nervous.

“Yeah, I…you just look good in it… really fucking good”. Trying to keep his feelings in check. He couldn't tell if he wanted you to only wear his shirts from now on or if he wanted to rip it off your body so he could worship every inch of you all over again.

“You should see how good I look out of it,” you say with a wink.

Option two, he thought, definitely option two.

-----

Frankie woke up with your hair tickling his nose, but this only brought a smile to his face when he realized you were here and he wasn't dreaming. Frankie carefully propped himself up and gazed upon your face. He lightly pushed the stray hairs out of your face, pressing a light kiss on your temple. Then, he caressed your face, neck, and shoulder with the back of his fingers. Still asleep, you shifted your body, rolling on your back, seeking his warmth. Frankie's smile only grew as he watched your naked body search for his. Frankie kisses you once again before covering you up with the rest of the blankets, hoping that would stall your search for his body heat. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he makes his way to the kitchen to once again try and cook a meal. However, the terrible mess in the kitchen looked like it was going to take priority. After throwing away the cold starts of avocado toast, Frankie decides on something simple in case he gets interrupted (his stomach growls in agreement). Not that he'd be complaining; the both of you happily ate the cold takeout that you had ordered before falling back to sleep from exhaustion. He would eat cold food the rest of his life if it meant he could enjoy every noise, moan, and pleasure-filled eye roll you made as he worshipped you like it was his last time.

Frankie quickly whipped up some sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a couple cans of pop (deciding it was late enough in the day for pop but not late enough for a beer). Looking at everything before him, he realized he didn't have one of those trays everyone in the movie seemed to have, mentally adding that to a list of things to buy if you were going to be staying over more. He hoped you would be staying over more. Deciding that they would be sharing a plate (one less thing to carry … and potentially drop,) he moves all the sandwiches onto one plate, puts the bag of chips under his arm, and puts a can in each pocket of his sweatpants, which are pulling them dangerously low, but he didn't have to go far. But before leaving the kitchen, Frankie looked over to his table, which seemed to be brighter from the bouquet of sunflowers he bought the day before. With his one free hand, he grabs a single sunflower and heads back to the bedroom. Opening the door slowly, he sees you cuddled up in the pile of blankets he left you in. Frankie walks over to his side of the bed, places everything on the floor, then cuddles into you. He kisses up your jaw, pressing his nose into your soft skin, tickling you with his scruff. He tries to wake you up with a sing-songy voice.

"Come on Mi Cielo. Waaaake up. I've got a suuuuupriiiiise for yooou"

Only groaning your response

"Come on baby, wake up." Really trying to wake you with his scratchy scruff rubbing up against your face.

"Okay, okay, stop it. I'm up!" Grabbing the sides of his face and pushing him away.

Frankie laughs as you groan, sitting up and leaning against his bed frame.

"Okay, what's the surprise?"

"Close your eyes."

You squint your eyes, suspicious of Frankie, but you both know you trust Frankie with your life. Closing your eyes, you wiggle to make yourself more comfortable against the bed frame.

"Okay, open'em!"

Frankie sees the genuine surprise on your face. "It's nothing fancy, but I-"

Covering his mouth with both of your hands, you interrupt him. "Frankie. This is perfect. Thank you." Releasing his lips, you pull him in and kiss him. Both of you break the kiss rather quickly, knowing if you don't stop, it will be another forgotten meal.

Frankie saw you look at the sunflower on the plate's rim before delicately picking it up and gently tracing the petals with your finger. Internally, Frankie debated whether to tell you the meaning behind the sunflower, but as he saw your soft smile only grow, he simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

“It reminds me of your smile!”

Both you and Frankie are suddenly startled by Frankie's unusually loud declaration. Cocking your eyebrow in confusion, you look at Frankie in hopes of an explanation.

“I - uh, when I was at the grocery store getting food for movie night, I walked past the flower section, and when I saw the sunflower, I couldn't help but think of you… and your smile.” Frankie didn't think he had anything else to say, but he just couldn't stop. “I met this old man, and he told me about his wife and how she liked tulips, and all I could think about was us at that age. What we'd be like. But then I saw this sadness in his eyes, and even though he didn't say anything, I could tell how much he missed her. And all I could think of was how much more I'd miss you if we were that age, and I still hadn't told you how I felt.

As Frankie finished, he felt out of breath, like he had released all he had been holding on to for seven years. It took all of Frankie's conviction and confidence not to hide his eyes from your all-encompassing gaze.

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other. This was only broken when Frankie saw your eyes turn partially glassy, and panic flooded his body, but before he could apologize for anything and everything that possibly could have made you cry, he felt your arms be thrown around his neck, and with a tight squeeze he knew everything was going to be alright.

—--

The next two days, neither of you spent more than a couple minutes out of bed and almost always in arm's reach of each other. Contact became practically a necessity, Frankie constantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. Your hands traced each scar, cut, and bruise that littered his body. Neither of you wanted this to end, but Frankie was the first to declare a solution.

"Why don't we both call in sick?"

"We can't just call in sick, Frankie."

"Why not?"

"The both of us calling in sick? That's suspicious. Someone is bound to figure it out."

"We work in two completely different sections, no one would ever know." Frankie knew you. He knew you wanted this; it just might take a little extra convincing. But for a couple extra days with you in this bubble, it was worth it.

"I don't know, Frankie." Frankie saw you hang your head, and he knew this was his moment

"Come on Mi Cielo, play hooky with me." Giving his signature smirk before leaning down, kissing your temple, and whispering in your ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

Frankie pulled back to gauge your reaction. And when he saw your smile, he knew he had you.

"Oh, is that right, Mr. Morales?"

Hearing 'Mr. Morales' come from your lips made him give a low moan before biting his lip, trying to contain it.

"Si mi amour"

Frankie barely answered before dragging you back to the bedroom.

-----

Slowly, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday passed. Frankie and you found a rhythm in your rose-tinted bubble. Nothing appeared to be able to burst it, that was, until an unexpected guest.

Frankie was washing dishes from supper the night before as you dried and put them away. This felt like the most natural thing, sure you had washed dishes together in the past, but now, as Frankie looked over at you, everything was different. You were wearing an old shirt of his and an even older pair of boxers. You shook your hips and swayed to the music that played throughout the kitchen. From time to time, touching his waist as you move past him to put something away, often followed by a kiss on the cheek or behind the ear.

This time, however, Frankie saw you coming and turned to catch your lips; he could feel you react at first but, in an instant, melt into him. Not caring about anything, he turns, making sure not to break the kiss, and pulls you into him with his wet soapy hands, one on your back and one gripping your ass. You gasp in surprise, which Frankie takes advantage of, deepening the kiss. The smell of you fills his nostrils, and the sweet taste of you starts to fog his mind, but before he can do anything else, he hears, "Ahem."

Pulling back, Frankie turns to look at Pope, giving the two of you a shit-eating grin.

Frankie's head falls to your shoulder, and without looking at him, Frankie asks, "What do you want, Pope?"

"Oh well, when I heard my best friend was out sick, I went to see if our licensed medical professional knew anything. But to my surprise, she was out sick too!" Sarcasm dripped from Pope's statement.

Frankie feels a whack on his shoulder. "I told you someone would figure it out!"

Frankie lifted his head and rolled his eyes. "Pope doesn't count as someone."

Looking directly at Pope now, Frankie asks, "Again, what do you want, Pope?"

"Like I said, I wanted to check in on my best friend!"

Frankie cocks his eyebrow, knowing nothing is simple with Pope.

"I've given you guys four days together. Isn't that enough?"

Frankie, already incredibly annoyed by his best friend, matter-of-factly says “No.” before quickly pulling you in and passionately finishing the kiss Pope had so rudely interrupted. Frankie can feel you initially melt into him, but feeling Pope's eyes on you, you quickly come to your senses and push away from Frankie. He can practically feel the heat coming from your cheeks as you look down, making sure to not make eye contact with Pope before quickly excusing yourself to get dressed.

Watching you walk up the stairs to his room, he couldn't comprehend how lucky he was, but his fantasy was quickly dismissed when Pope declared, “Enough about you two, let me tell you about my date!”

Turning his neck, Frankie gave Pope one of the coldest stares he could muster this early in the morning. Either completely missing or ignoring the stare, Pope went into his story about his date with Allison “Okay, so I picked her up and took her to that hot new restaurant I told you about, and then we-” It was then when Frankie tuned Santi out and continued with the dishes, only occasionally adding in a helpful nod and ‘uh huh’ as the story continued.

By the time the story was wrapping up, Frankie heard you coming down the stairs, and he couldn't help but turn to you and smile. Like it was second nature, Frankie opened his arms, welcoming you into his embrace, but before you could Santi had to ruin the moment. “Wipe that goofy smile off your face. She was gone for like ten minutes.”

Santi and Frankie couldn't help but roll their eyes at each other, which only made Cielo giggle as she secured herself in Frankie's embrace.

“So what is this? Are you guys together? Or just fucking?”

Instantaneously, both Frankie and you shout, “Santi!” but Santi brushes this off with a shrug.

Frankie suddenly panicked. These days of playing hooky had let him imagine a life with you. In a perfect world, he'd propose to you right now, and you'd be married, moved in (and hopefully pregnant) by the end of the week.

But maybe that's not what you wanted? Maybe you wanted to just enjoy these days of playing hooky, and once it ended, never speak of it again.

Before fully spiraling, Frankie felt your hand on his chest, grounding him. He looked at you, and even though you were glaring at Santi (much like a sibling would), he knew that this was in no way, as Santi put it, just fucking.

"Santi, I love you like a brother. And because of that, I'm going to politely ask you to leave before I start throwing things. Particularly at your head." The smile on your face was radiant, but Frankie knew the look was dead serious.

Santi barely started, "But I-"

Still with the brightest smile spread across her face, Cielo picked up a plate and stared at Santi.

Santi squints, “You wouldn’t?”

You pull your back, ready to throw. “Try me, pretty boy.”

Seeing she means business, Santi lifts his hands up in surrender and makes his way out of the house.

Before the door closes, you yell out, “Bye, Santi!”

Frankie chuckled and turned to her, “Were you actually going to throw it?” to which she only answered with a shrug before continuing with the dishes. Frankie couldn't help but let out a booming laugh, with tears of laughter.

Once the laughter ends, there's a calm silence around them; the only noise is the sloshing of water from washing dishes and the clinking of plates as they're put away. Frankie knows what he wants, and part of him believes he knows what Cielo wants… but the voice of doubt still lingers in his head. Once again, Frankie is unable to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

“You want this right? You want us…” There's another pause, but this one feels less calm. In the silence, all Frankie can hear is his own heartbeat, slowly starting to rise. He puts the cup he was holding down on the counter, worrying that his sudden clammy hands will fumble it. Frankie sees you stare at your reflection within the sink. As he stares at you, waiting for a response, he sees a tear drop roll down your cheek and hit the water in the sink, making a small ripple.

Without even thinking, Frankie's hands are on your cheeks, wiping the silent tears with his thumbs and turning you to face him. Your brilliant eyes, which he loves so much, are glassy and red from the tears. Frankie sees your throat bob as you swallow hard. Frankie's voice can't help but come out as a beg, “Mi amor, ¿qué es?”

Cielo takes a very shaky, deep breath, and you responds barely higher than a whisper. “I'm scared.”

Another shaky breath was taken before she continued, “I'm scared we're moving too fast. I'm scared that we’ll ruin our friendship. I'm scared you'll fall out of love with me. Im - Im -I'm scared I’ll lose you!” You couldn't help but sob at the last statement, and your knees finally gave way.

Frankie immediately scoops you so he's on his knees, and you're clinging to his chest. He doesn't care that your hands are wet and soapy from the sink, he doesn't care that his shirt is wet from your tears, he doesn’t even care that he landed on his knees so hard he’d probably be sore for weeks. All he cares about is you. Taking care of you. Being there for you. Whatever you need. All that he did was for you.

Unconsciously, Frankie starts to rock you in his arms, whispering “I love you’s” in Spanish and English. The snobs eventually turn into much smaller cries. Frankie is still rocking but now humming a song that he didn't know the words to. Cielo finally looks up at Frankie, and he wipes your tears. “You’re humming my dad's song. He'd sing it to me when I was little.”

“It's also what you sang to me after my nightmare.”

“...I just wanted to help.”

Frankie nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “I know.”

This silence now felt like home. He could only hear their heartbeats, their synchronised breathing, and the song he continued to hum.

“I know you're scared, but being with you is all I’ve ever wanted. And I'm never changing my mind. I want everything with you, big or small,”

Frankie cradles your cheek in his hand and looks into your eyes. “I want to get married and have kids, but I also want to hold your hand when we walk side by side. I want to buy you flowers whenever I think of your smile. I want to have a picture of you in my cap. I want to hold you when we watch Princess Bride.” Taking a breath, he continues, “I want to wake up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

Frankie leans down to kiss you, and the kiss contains multitudes. Frankie kissed you with a promise of your future together. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I promise. Nothing could ever take me from you.”

As You looked at Frankie, he knew, in his heart, they would be together for the rest of their lives.

-The Next Last Friday of the Month-

“Hey, Fish were here!”

“Hey guys! We’re in the kitchen!”

As Santi, Benny, and Will enter the kitchen with armloads of beer and chips, they are greeted by both you and Frankie, who are making popcorn and grabbing cold beer from the fridge.

Benny hugs you, lifting you up off your feet. “Oh my god! You're here first? You never beat us!”

“Oh, you know they let me off early today because it was so quiet.” You have a small smirk when Frankie catches your eyes, which he can't help but return. You actually arrived first because you and Frankie had been driving to work together for the past month.

Frankie glances at Santi to see if he's kept his word and not gossiped with the boys about the two of you. The two of you swore him to secrecy because they wanted to tell them together, which he begrudgingly agreed to.

As the five of them head to the living room, you and Benny continue to argue.

“It's Fish’s turn to pick! Those are the rules!”

“But no one showed up last month! All you fucks canceled!”

“It was your pick last month, and Fish’s pick this month. ‘thems the rules!” Benny shrugs nonchalantly.

You land in the middle of the couch with an indignant “Ugh!” as you cross your arms. “This is so not fair.”

All the boys chuckle, Will sits beside you, Benny sits in the armchair, Santi spreads himself over the loveseat, and Frankie goes to the DVD shelf to pick a movie.

Since Benny never knows when to call it quits, whispers under his voice as he takes a sip of beer, “Everyone cancelled because we couldn't stand to watch The Princess Bride again.”

Frankie can hear you gasping behind him, and then he hears what he can only imagine as pillows being pelted at Benny. Everyone starts to laugh again.

Benny starts to scream in defeat. “I'm Kidding! I'm kidding! I'm kidding!”

Frankie puts the movie in the player and turns to see you standing over Benny, who is on the ground trying to dodge punches, pokes, and tickles. Frankie chuckles and sits down on the other end of the couch to Will and presses play to the movie.

“Admit defeat Miller! And I’ll take mercy on you!”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“Say it!”

“The Princess Bride is the best movie ever!”

Satisfied, you stand and take the middle seat between Will and Frankie.

Out of breath, Benny crawls back into the armchair before asking Frankie, “So what are we watching, Fish?”

“The best movie ever.”

You look at Frankie with a touch of shock and he can't help but smile. Benny lifts his eyebrow in confusion until the movie tile screen comes up.

Benny groans and everyone laughs. You kiss Frankie on the cheek and cuddle beside him. Frankie kisses you on the top of the head. “Cualquier cosa por ti mi amor”

There's approximately 1 minute of silence before Will speaks up. “What the fuck?”

Benny is still staring at the two of them with a blank face of confusion.

Will once again, “Are we missing something?”

You shush Will “ssssshhhhh the movies starting!”

Benny, this time, stands up and blocks the TV. “No, no, no, explain.”

Frankie glances at Cielo to which she answers with a shrug. “Fine if it gets us to watch this movie quicker. Fish and I are together” Benny goes to interrupt but she stops him “Uhp! Uhp! Uhp! We've been together for a month, we are happy, and we will be taking nobody else's opinions.”

Benny and Will finally look at Santi, who has been playing on his phone the entire time.

Santi turns his head, “What?”

“Do you have anything you want to add?”

Santi thinks for a moment before throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “We should all start knocking because I walked in on them basically having sex in the kitchen.

This made both Frankie and you yell, “Santi!” and for good measure, you threw another pillow, adding, “We were just kissing!”

Hearing giggles from the Miller brothers behind you, you whip around “Anything else?”

Almost immediately, they leaned back in their seats like nothing had happened.

Frankie pressed play, and they started watching The Princess Bride when Benny quietly whispered, “It's about goddamn time.”

To which they all can't help but laugh.

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #alix orignal post

23 notes · View notes

jor-elsemissary · 2 months ago

Text

President Kent Verse (Ao3)

Martha runs for President in 2016 at the behest of Lionel Luthor, whom she is also seriously dating.

#President Kent

Lillian's Knight - Lionel comes to the rescue of his future first wife

Gardening - Martha learns a little bit more about Lionel

Faulty - Lionel fixes a faulty faucet the only way a Luthor knows how

Red - Martha is accused of wanting to become Mrs Luthor

Steel Veneer - Martha asks if Lionel is actually alright

Nightmares - Triggered, Lionel has a nightmare about Marilynn

You Love Him - Lois questions Martha's feelings for Lionel

Matchmaker - Lois does the same to Lionel about Martha

Worthy - Hospitalized, Martha contemplates if Lionel is worth it

Confession - Martha confronts Lionel about that thing between them

Evening Love - Now dating, Martha and Lionel spend a morning at a hotel

Dinner Date - Lionel cooks a meal for Martha

Come to Bed - Martha forces Lionel to go to bed after a long day

Kryptonian Shovel Talk - Clark gives Lionel the shovel talk

Hand Prints - Martha accidentally left evidence on Lionel

Monopoly Night - The Kents and friends play Monopoly

Pete Finds Out - Pete discovers Lionel is dating Martha and Jonathan's role in his family losing the plant

Midnight Munchies - Martha asks for an odd snack

William Kent Luthor p1 - Lionel's youngest is born

Reading Time - Lionel reads a children's book to Liam

Legoville - Liam builds Smallville and Metropolis in legos

Speech - Lionel writes a speech for Martha

For President pt 1 - Lionel convinces Martha to run against his son

Contraception Talk - Lois teases Lionel about using contraceptives

Stop the Presses (Rewritten on Ao3) - Lionel has a press conference about Martha's bid for the White House

Assassination - Lionel takes a bullet for President-Elect Martha Kent

Ring Shopping - Lionel wants to propose but needs a ring first

Theseus Lex - When asked if he's going to tell Lex, Lionel thinks about his son

Secrets - Liam explores Lionel’s private bedroom and learns a harsh lesson

Restlessness - Lionel desperately needs a nap

Invitation - Lex receives a wedding invitation

Lullaby - Lionel plays a lullaby to help his stressed wife to sleep

The Interview by Lois Lane - Lois Lane lands the interview of the life time, too bad the good parts won't make it on the front page

Heritage - Lionel has to pick up his grandson from school

Intimacy - Lionel and Martha share a moment on Air Force One

Transcripts - Lex Luthor searches for evidence to use against Martha

I Love My Wife - When badgered by the press, Lionel answers

K Is For Kissing - Lois asks about Lionel much to his chagrin

The Key - Martha finally gives him the key to the farmhouse

Domesticity (last reply) - Years later, Martha and Lionel spend time in the rebuilt manor garden

Coming Out - Young Jonathan Kent asks Lionel something personal

Sanity - Suffering from Alzheimer's Disease, Lionel decides to leave this world on his own terms

-------

100 Words - master post of all the 100 word prompts for this verse

#smallville #lionel luthor #martha kent #mionel #lex luthor #clark kent #lois lane #conner kent #jon kent #jonathan kent #liam luthor #multiverse #alternate universe #president kent

5 notes · View notes

rjalker · 3 months ago

Note

By the way, do you have any sci-fi books/stories you can recommend? It's so hard to find ones that are not full of the horrendous bigotry.

I have had people recommend that I try Octavia Butler's works, but I have yet to do research on any of those before I pick any of them up.

I'll try to figure out a good list, I always forget things as soon as I'm asked lol.

I'll try to edit summaries and word counts to this post tomorrow

But I have read one series by Octavia Butler so far, the Xenogenesis trilogy, and it was fantastic, but it definitely comes with some serious trigger warnings.

I assume the rest of her books are just as serious, so I definitely recommend looking up trigger warnings before reading them. But if they're anything like Xenogenesis they will be well worth the read!

For TV shows at least, Babylon 5 is fantastic.

Books....there's a lot of them lol. I'm reading a crap ton of public domain short stories from Project Gutenberg and Librivox.

The Imperial Radch series by Ann Leckie is awesome. It's got a trilogy and two standalone books set after the trilogy so far.

Oh. Super old scifi book I love is Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions.

The original book is public domain and can be listened to as an awesome audiobook here, or read online / downloaded from Project Gutenberg!

And then I also translated it into casual / modern English to make it easier for more people to read. You can read it here on tumblr at @flatland-a-2024-translation, on the Internet Archive, or listen to the still lazy audiobook version on youtube. (It's lazy because it's unedited and for some reason I decided to make it while recovering from Covid19. Don't ask me why I have no idea)

It's both a political satire condemning the bigotry of Victorian England, and an introduction to the mathematical concept of higher dimensions. It's fun. It's hilarious.

Just don't watch the most popular movie that has been made for it that's free on youtube, it's by a man so absurdly racist that even other Republicans were horrified, and the movie completely misses all of the points the book has to make about how bigotry is bad, and does character assasination for everyone involved.

Here's some cool short stories, mostly public domain:

There's a bunch of fun ones in Librivox's short science fiction collections, which you can listen to on youtube, or on their app or site. Too many for me to keep track of or summarize....

Omnilingual by H. Beam Piper. Just very fun space archaeology. Also has a cool time travel story, Time and Time Again.

The Beast of Space, by F E Hardart is a fun monster story with a living asteroid.

Oh crap. And how could I forget Who Goes There? The short story the movie "The Thing" is based on.

The Lost Kafoozalum is very funny. Only 1 bad part at the very end that's obnoxious but it's easy enough to "fix" by applying basic logic to the characters. And it's public domain so at some point I'm just gonna rewrite the annoying part.

Also I like Cry From a Far Planet.

And The Defenders by Philip K. Dick

hmmmmmmmmmm yeah I'm forgetting a ton lol. I'll add them to this post when I remember them.

Oh, I haven't read this one yet, but a ton of people recommend it. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers.

Beyond the Heaviside Layer is also a fun weird alternate universe

and....so many more I forget lol.

oh crap wait. If. If you can find it, Venusian Lullaby by Paul Leonard. It is technically a Doctor Who story, but it is 1000% standalone science fiction and you don't need to know anything about Doctor Who to read it. It is so good. But like. So many people die. So many that I lost count. But it's just fantastic. The worldbuilding. OMG

#asks #replies #the--pony-box #free books #some of them lol #science fiction #scifi

3 notes · View notes

pandajaye · 2 years ago

Text

I Wanna Be With You ~ (Chapter 1)

Characters: Bang Chan x OC!Soleil

Fandom: Stray Kids/Skz

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Hello, I write a lot but this will be my first time writing a fictional version of a real person so sorry if I mess up, I love Channie and I love the thoughts I have about Channie and want to express them through writing him with a new original (black!!!! 💅🏾) character of mine, Soleil (pronounced Soh-lay). I hope this is up to some of y’all’s standards and that y’all like it, enjoy!

No matter what anyone tells you, always remember to follow your heart. It may lead you to wonderful places and new experiences. Exactly like how it led Soleil to finding the love of her life. Soleil wasn’t sure what she wanted to do when it was time for her to enter the real world. So many of her peers realized things about themselves and had future plans that seemed so impressive and successful that they made her feel like she’d be stuck in the same place forever. Eventually, she had had enough of being confused about the future and needed to figure something out.

They say that a job is not the same as a career. That you can work a job, but you want your career to be something you’re passionate about. For Soleil, that was entertainment. She absolutely loved the entertainment industry ever since she was a little girl and would swoon over Aladdin’s smile or dance along with Beyoncé on YouTube or picture herself winning her own Oscar for being cast in a big movie. She understood that a big part of the entertainment industry was the behind-the-scenes work. Like the people that helped in the dressing rooms, fixing up the entertainers to look their best. As she got older, she fell in love with makeup. From daily looks to Halloween spooks, she was obsessed with it. A lightbulb appeared over her head when she came up with a wonderful idea. Soleil would learn to work in the entertainment industry as a makeup artist!

Soleil worked hard to learn all she could about makeup and skin and how colors worked for different tones and shades. She enrolled in cosmetology college and esthetician training classes and always worked hard to be successful, some of that success coming from showing off her creativity and style. Things started out small but over time she got more and more hirings for more than just parties and proms and weddings. She was getting hired for fashion shows and television and small movies. However, even with her success, she still wanted a little more from life itself. At the age of 23, she packed up her bags, hugged her family and everything she knew goodbye, and traveled to a place on the other side of the planet. Depending on which way you go, of course.

Another one of Soleil’s loves was music. The way certain voices would hug her mind be it happy songs or emotional songs or songs meant to make you feel like you could defeat a final boss, she loved music. During her early college days, Soleil found a new genre of music that she’d never heard of before called K-Pop. Korean Pop wasn’t popular where she was from but some of her new peers seemed to know a lot about it. Listening to K-pop is actually where a lot of her new school friends came from. Out of all the groups she listened to, the band to win her heart was Stray Kids. A group of eight incredible, talented, and super handsome men that sang and danced their way into her heart. The way their beautiful and unique music and voices took control of her emotions and turned her bad days into the best days was a special kind of happiness.

Happiness. That's exactly how she felt when she looked into his eyes. Among the eight members of the group, there was the oldest, the leader, Bang Chan. Bang Chan spent years on screen, becoming a trainee at the JYPE company when he was thirteen years old. He spent seven years waiting to find his group and those seven years could definitely be described as worth it. Sure, the group had their own trials and tribulations to overcome, but they continued, and continue, to rise through the ranks and make their place in halls of fame. Growing each year, becoming close like brothers. They're a family that represents fate. Award after award, sparkling performance after sparkling performance, Stray Kids shake the music industry and make their place everywhere all around the world.

Bang Chan is also one of the groups producers, his talents are more than what he does on stage or at dance practice. He spends all night putting beats together and working his magic, which he also does with Changbin and Han, who make up rap group 3Racha when all three of them join creative forces. "I can't stay awake anymore, Channie-hyung... I think Jisung is already asleep," Changbin yawned, sitting up on the couch to stretch. "I'm going to call a car to come get us. I think we have makeup trials in the morning for the next awards performance. I don't want to fall asleep with an eyeshadow brush on my face." While Chan could hear him talk, Han... not so much, his mind was only focused on the words of this new song. Or at least on the new beat anyway.

It was going to be a new love song, something to follow up Case 143 and Winter Falls. It would be a soft melody, something you could fall asleep to because it would ease your heart so you can focus on the person you love. "Chan-hyung? Hellooo?" Changbin's voice was actually able to capture Chan's attention this time. "Huh? What is it?" Chan turned to look at the great Dwaekki man who shook his head and sighed. "Let's go. I want my bed. You, too, Jisungie." Changbin pushed on Han's leg with enough force to wake him up but not enough to hurt him. Han whined and Changbin grumbled as Chan looked up at his desktop and began signing out of everything for the night.

By the time they got downstairs, the car was sitting right outside of the door. They let Han climb in first so he could get to the backseat and sleep some more on the way to the dorms. Chan, as always, let Changbin climb in second and then climbed in himself to make sure he was the last one inside. The other two members took naps in the car, but Chan forced himself to stay awake until they got home. There was pretty much silence other than some yawns and 'Goodnight's exchanged as they all turned in for the night. As Chan fell asleep, his mind continued to play the lovely melody they had conjured up while working in the studio. He felt the ends of his mouth twitch into a smile as he thought about how his fans would feel about this new love song. He hoped they'd feel dreamy.

The next morning, alarms woke the boys from their sleep. It was time to get up and get ready for makeup trials. Even the cold water while brushing his teeth and eating an energizing breakfast couldn't wipe the sleep from Bang Chan's mind. He was still so tired from last night; he couldn't even remember what time he went to bed. In the car, he let his eyes do a few long blinks until they got back to the JYPE building. He could've sworn he was sitting on a couch the last time his eyes closed but all of a sudden, he's now waking up in a makeup chair in front of a vanity mirror. "Soleil, Bang Chan is over here in chair four. You might want to hurry before he goes back to sleep."

Chan turned to look up at the kind voice talking about him. It was Sun Yoo, one of their veteran makeup artists. "Eh, I'm not sleeping. I don't know what you're talking about," Chan mumbled, sitting up in his chair and yawning. "Suuure. I believe you." Yoo smiled, chuckling to herself while blending out Felix's smokey eye. "I'm here, I'm here!" An even kinder voice announced herself. Chan watched a new person set up her makeup supplies. She had brown to blonde ombre with dark roots, dyed of course. The hair was curly, kinky even, which was something he'd heard about on the internet. Her skin was sparkly and richly brown, a luxurious chestnut color. It was smooth and beautiful and looked so soft. "Annyeonghaseyo, Mr. Bahng. My name is Soleil. I will be your makeup artist for the day. It's nice to meet you."

Soleil did a quuick bow but to Chan it lasted forever. The light from the vanity shown behind her and flowed through her curls as they bounced coming back up. Her nose was beautiful and broad, very cute. It had the slightest teddy bear look to it. Her cheeks were soft with the slight tell of cheekbones and a pretty jaw that one could lift for a perfect kiss. The only makeup she had on was lip gloss, strawberry blush, and some mascara as far as Chan could tell. Her eyes were a brown that could make even the coldest heart feel warm like a big hug in a wool blanket. They made him feel safe and protected, which made him want to protect her.

"Mr. Bahng? Hello? Uh... Bang Chan?" Soleil's head was tilted with her face in a confused pout when Chan snapped out of his gaze. "Hm? Yes, yes, that's me. I'm Bang Chan. It's nice to meet you, Soleil. I trust that if anyone can make me beautiful, it's you." Chan smiled ever so welcomingly at his new makeup artist. Soleil couldn't help but smile back at his immediate charm. "Yes, sir. I'll do my best. But between you and I, I think you look beautiful just like this. Such a handsome man." Soleil had this smile she'd do where her two front teeth would show like a cute little bunny. Kind of similar to Felix. That smile of hers, those soft, full lips that had the prettiest two-tone coloring. He shouldn't be having these thoughts about this random but perfect woman he just met but he couldn't help it. She was mesmerizing.

Once the makeup trials ended and the artists and beauticians parted ways, the other members decided to order food to pick up on the way back to the dorms. There was an intense game of rock paper scissors to decide which car would be picking up the food that day, Chan's car lost and was chosen as the delivery chariot. Together, he and Hwang Hyunjin, another amazingly charming member of the group and co-writer of the song Red Lights, entered the restaurant together since it was a big order for one person to carry.

While they waited for the food, they engaged in small talk about how the makeup trials went. Hyunjin expressed how he whined and begged for glitter shadow and surprisingly won. Chan was proud of his musical son for fighting for what he wanted. While Hyunjin continued to talk about his experience, Chan saw gold with his peripherals. He turned to see... Soleil? What were the chances that she picked the exact same restaurant as them? She was sitting at a table with Sun Yoo and some other women that worked at the company. It kind of made Chan feel buttery to know that Soleil wasn't lonely.

If only he knew he was staring at her before she turned and looked him in the eyes. He jumped and quickly looked away, his nose and cheeks and ears becoming an adorable shade of pink. He glanced back at Soleil to see her smile at him before going back to talking to her friends. "Order for Mr. Bahng," the cashier called out. Hyunjin stepped up to the counter to grab the first bags of the group's food and then Chan after him. As they headed towards the door, something told Chan to take one more look back. It was too strong of an urge to ignore, so he did. He turned around and looked at Soleil who looked up at him when she caught notice. He readjusted the food to lean against him so he could have a free hand to wave at her. The rush he got when she, and the other women at the table, waved back was so energizing. He'd been more awake now than he had been all day. He turned back around and grabbed the food with his free hand and headed on out to the car. He really hoped to see Soleil again. Soleil, the human sunflower.

#bang chan #straykids #skz #changbin #seo changbin #han #han jisung #lee know #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #felix

8 notes · View notes

becauseimanicequeen · 1 year ago

Text

Pride Month Watch: Mama Gogo (ep 11-12)

My thoughts on episodes 1-4, episodes 5-7, episode 8, and episodes 9-10.

I'm currently going through my Pride Month Watch List and Mama Gogo is on my list of shows/films I haven't watched before but have wanted to get to.

Let's see how this series will end. Starting with the 11th episode.

No!

No! Hell no!

No!

No! Hell to the fucking no!

Okay, I'll give you that one. At least you're honest about it.

But otherwise, get the fuck out!

Yes!

She's learned her lesson. This asshole won't get the chance to mistreat her again. I love my queen so much!

Well, I was right that Chen's mom would tell him to fix things between him and Annie....

I have a newfound respect for her.

These two...

Are adorable!

OMG!

The way I fucking choked on my tea!

I appreciate these men for protecting Annie...

Not that she needs it. She can definitely take care of herself. But it's still nice to see them stand up for her.

If you look up the word "ego" in the dictionary...

This man's picture would cover the whole page.

Btw...

Toptap's facial expressions are everything to me.

Now I'm just waiting for Mikhael with a k to come back to Mama Gogo.

This is probably the only rational way to settle the animosity between Gayu and Kampan:

And I really hope Gayu wins (I'm pretty sure he will).

Oh, lord, look at these two idiots...

Was that all it took for them to bury the hatchet?

I can't believe Kampan won... I mean, he's hot and all. But Gayu is hot and a good person. Anyway...

Annie's loyalty to her boys is so sweet:

I'm sure she'll find a solution and make a choice that will benefit everyone.

Annie owned up to her mistakes and apologized...

And Tina accepted. I love this for them.

And he's finally back!

I'm so happy!

Because I love his energy!

And I need people like him in my life.

And this woman:

That's my girl!

It's official now...

And I'm so happy for them.

So, my overall thoughts on Mama Gogo...

I was pleasantly surprised by how entertained I was. I knew I would like it because it's a Jojo show (and he hasn't let me down yet) and because it's Cris (Annie), but I laughed a lot because it was silly and funny and entertaining too. And even though I sped through the dances at double speed (because this, as well as singing, always makes me cringe and gives me second-hand embarrassment, and I just can't watch it), I loved the series overall.

Will I rewatch it? Probably not. I'm more into QLs. But I don't regret having watched it.

#mama gogo #mama gogo the series #thai series #ice queen's pride month watch #pride month watch #my shit

2 notes · View notes

yumiyue07 · 3 months ago

Text

Until the Seventh Moon

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

POV: K-idol x fem!reader

H/N = His name Y/N = Your name

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

When H/N opened his eyes, the riddle was the first thing on his mind. Without hesitation, he rolled out of bed, reaching for the piece of paper where he had hastily scrawled the words before they could slip from his memory. With a weary sigh, he sank back onto his bed, eyes scanning the lines again and again. But no matter how many times he read them, the meaning remained elusive, just out of reach. “Well?” he muttered to the empty room. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Beside him, Eunbyeol lay curled up, her silver eyes fixed on the note as if she, too, were deep in thought.

"In silver stillness, I lay unseen, Where moonlight dances, yet light is lean. A twin to the crescent, lost in the deep, Awaken the echoes where secrets sleep. Sing to the stars, let Venus guide, Only then shall I leave the tide."

The words stared back at him, mocking his confusion. He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair.

“Twin to the crescent... Venus guide...” He exhaled through clenched teeth. “Why can't spirits ever speak plainly?”

H/N's fingers trembled as he set the parchment aside. “Eunbyeol,” he groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “how am I supposed to decipher this in time?” The words tasted bitter. “Even if I solve it, I still have to find whatever—or whoever—it's pointing to.”

A soft meow broke through the silence. He looked down to see the little kitten gazing up at him as if sensing his turmoil.

He chuckled despite himself and lifted her onto his chest, running his fingers gently through her fur. Her warmth seeped into his chest as she nuzzled against his racing heart, her purrs vibrating through him like a second heartbeat.

“I’ll solve this riddle,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “No matter what it takes… I have to.”

Another soft meow as if she understood.

His gaze drifted toward the ceiling. Slowly, he closed his eyes, allowing his memories to take him back—to her. The warmth of her touch. The way she fit perfectly in his arms. The love that radiated from her every glance. The way her fingers had interlaced with his, how her smile could outshine the celestial bodies themselves. The phantom scent of her hair—moonflowers and stardust—filled his senses until his throat constricted.

“I will save you, my love,” he whispered into the night. “Just hold on a little longer.”

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, H/N stepped outside, inhaling the fresh morning air. A newfound clarity settled over him. His memories had returned—fully, unmistakably. He was no ordinary man. He had never been.

He was a soldier of the Celestial Guard, the sworn protector of the Celestial Princess.

The realization sent a strange energy coursing through his veins, awakening something long dormant. He could feel it now—his sharpened senses, the heightened awareness of everything around him. Every breath of wind, every rustling leaf, every heartbeat of the creatures stirring in the early morning light. His vision had sharpened, his hearing more acute, his body humming with an unmistakable strength. The magic within him, once lost to the veil of forgetfulness, was stirring again.

And now, he understood.

The longing that had plagued him for as long as he could remember—the ache in his chest every time he looked up at the moon—had never been some meaningless dream. It had always been her. His princess. His love. Y/N.

She was trapped there, waiting for him, just as he had unknowingly spent his days longing for her.

She was the only one he had ever truly belonged to. The only person he would give everything for—his strength, his devotion… even his life. No force in heaven or earth would stop him now.

As H/N made his way to breakfast, a pang of guilt settled in his chest. The memory of his sharp words to Mei the night before resurfaced, gnawing at his conscience. Mei's wounded expression from last night flashed in his mind—the way her hands had clutched her sleeves, the tremor in her voice when she'd offered to help. His fingers tightened around the doorframe. He hadn't meant to snap at her—not out of true anger, at least. It had been desperation, frustration at losing the one clue that could have led him to solve this riddle.

But still… if she hadn’t interrupted, he would have known by now. Instead, he was left with a riddle to decipher. He let out a quiet sigh before stepping inside.

The scrape of porcelain against wood drew his attention. His father sat bathed in the morning light, the steam from his tea curling peacefully upward. He looked content, completely at ease. H/N hesitated for the briefest moment. Now that he knew where he truly came from, sitting across from the man who had taken him in felt strangely surreal. But he forced himself to push the thought aside. He had spent years as this man's son—he would not let his newly returned memories shake that. H/N exhaled slowly, smoothing his features.

“Good morning, my son.” H/N bowed his head slightly in greeting before taking his seat. “Good morning, Father.”

The morning sunlight spilled across the low table as H/N settled onto his cushion. Steam curled from the teapot as he poured, the rhythmic sound of liquid filling porcelain cups.

His father nodded, his mood as bright as the morning light filtering through the windows. “You look well-rested,” his father remarked, accepting the offered tea with both hands. The lines around his eyes softened with contentment. “The banquet went beyond expectations. The Songs were thoroughly impressed.” A knowing twinkle lit his gaze. “And Mei—radiant as the morning sun,” his father continued, his voice tinged with pride.

H/N's fingers lingered on his teacup, the warmth seeping into his skin. “She was,” he agreed quietly. “Mother's beauty runs strong in her.”

His father's laughter filled the room, rich and warm like the tea between them. “Our household blooms with lovely flowers indeed.”

H/N took a slow sip of his tea, choosing his next words carefully. “I imagine the village will be buzzing about the engagement today.”

“Undoubtedly!” His father set down his cup with a satisfied sigh. “I intend to call on the elders this afternoon—"

The door slid open with a whisper of wood, drawing all eyes as the women entered in a rustle of silk. H/N's mother led the procession, her smile as warm as the morning sunlight now spilling into the room. “Good morning, my loves,” she chimed, settling beside her husband with practiced grace. The way her fingers briefly brushed his sleeve spoke of years of quiet affection.

Mei trailed behind her sisters, her movements unusually subdued. The space between her and H/N might as well have been a chasm, their mutual avoidance was as palpable as the steam rising from their teacups. Mei kept her gaze lowered, avoiding H/N’s eyes, and he, in turn, did the same.

“Ah Mei, ” Father said, his voice boomed, shattering the fragile silence. “We were just saying how you shone brightest last evening.” His chest puffed with paternal pride. “Like the moon among stars. All eyes were on you.”

Mother's eyes crinkled as she added, “Seo-Joon could hardly look away from you, my dear.” Her knowing tone sent a flush creeping up Mei's neck, though she kept her gaze firmly fixed on her untouched rice bowl.

“Now, now,” Father chided playfully, reaching for his wife's hand. “We all know where such beauty originates.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles that had their daughters giggling behind their sleeves.

Mother laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”

Her daughters exchanged amused smiles, the lighthearted moment briefly lifting the morning air.

“My daughters are all beautiful,” Father continued. “But Mei was the center of attention last night. I imagine the village is buzzing about the engagement.”

Mother's eyes sparkled as she leaned toward Mei. “And you, my flower? Was your fiancé pleased with the evening?” The word fiancé curled playfully off her tongue. She placed deliberate emphasis on the word.

Mei's chopsticks froze mid-air as Seo-Joon's touch flashed through her memory—the warmth of his lips, the secure weight of his hand at her waist, the way his breath had hitched when she'd pressed closer. A telltale flush crept up her neck. The moment had replayed in her thoughts again and again throughout the night, igniting a warmth that still lingered.

“He—they were all very pleased,” she stammered, focusing intently on arranging her pickled vegetables. “Seo-Joon said so himself when they departed.”

A poorly muffled snort came from Min's direction. She knew exactly what Mei had been thinking about. Mei shot her a subtle glare before nudging her with her elbow, but Min only grinned in return.

“Wonderful!” Mother clasped her hands, her smile radiant. “The Songs carried themselves with such grace. Just as befits our future family.”

Min turned to H/N with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Speaking of grace, Oppa, Seo-Ah couldn't take her eyes off you yesterday either. Her fan was fluttering like a trapped butterfly whenever you passed by.”

At that, Mei instinctively glanced at H/N. The gentle clink of H/N's teacup meeting wood echoed through the sudden silence, amusement flickering across his face. “And you observed this,” he mused, one eyebrow arching, “despite having eyes for a certain someone's brother all evening?”

Sora's laughter bubbled over as Mei covered her mouth. Min crossed her arms with exaggerated indignation, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Yes, I did notice,” she said with exaggerated exasperation. “And no, I didn’t just have eyes for a certain person.”

“Children, enough,” Father interjected, though his eyes crinkled with amusement. He exchanged a knowing glance with Mother—they'd already begun negotiations with Seo-Jin's family. Min's protests would soon be purely ceremonial.

Mother's teacup hovered mid-air, her perceptive gaze studying H/N's carefully schooled expression. “Surely you've considered Seo-Ah's attentions?” she pressed gently. “The girl is clearly taken with you.”

The chopsticks in H/N's fingers stilled. Across the table, Mei's eyes flickered up for the briefest moment before returning to her bowl. H/N cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. "Marriage isn't a path to tread lightly," he said, his voice measured. The jade flute hidden in his sleeve seemed to grow heavier against his skin. “It’s a decision that must be carefully considered.”

Carefully considered. That was the only answer he could give. The truth—his real truth—was that there was only one woman in his heart, one woman he had always belonged to. His princess. His Y/N.

Mother’s gaze softened as though she saw through him but chose not to press further. “As always, you think everything through,” she said with a knowing smile.

Father nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly what I said.”

The quiet that followed was comfortable, filled only with the rhythmic tapping of chopsticks and the occasional rustle of silk. Sunlight streamed through the rice paper windows, casting delicate patterns across the unfinished meals—a peaceful morning scene that belied the storm of purpose brewing in H/N's chest.

“Help me,” Y/N's outstretched hand trembled, her fingers straining toward him. “H/N—” Her voice cracked as dark tendrils coiled tighter around her throat.

“Let me go!” He thrashed against invisible bonds, muscles burning with futile effort. “I have to reach her!” But his body refused to obey, forcing him to watch—helpless, useless—as the light faded from her eyes. He was forced to watch the princess suffer.

“H/N...” Her voice became weaker and weaker. The hand around her throat threatened to suffocate her.

A final whisper: “H/N...”

Then—silence.

Her body crumpled to the ground, a fallen star extinguished. The scream that tore from his throat was raw, primal—

“Y/N!!! NO!”

Anger and grief boiled up inside him. His chest ached with sorrow. He had not been able to protect her.

H/N jolted upright, gasping. Moonlight painted silver streaks across the ceiling. His hands shook as he pressed them to his face, coming away damp with sweat. He stared at the ceiling without moving. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

“Meow.” Eunbyeol's rough tongue dragged across his cheek. She butted her head against his jaw, her purr vibrating against his collarbone until his racing heart began to steady.

Outside, the waning moon watched in judgment.

“All these years,” he whispered, “you've borne this pain alone while I...” His throat closed around the words. The jade flute lay heavy on the nightstand, its surface catching the faint light.

Eunbyeol's paw pressed against his clenched fist.

“Soon,” he vowed to the distant moon, to the princess trapped in its glow. “I swear it.”

That same night, H/N returned to the lake.

The lake lay still under a star-veiled sky as H/N knelt on the familiar stone. The sky was nearly moonless, and still, he had not unraveled the riddle’s secret.

He settled into his usual spot, fingers brushing over the cool jade of his flute. With a deep breath, he brought it to his lips and played the melody—their melody. His fingers found the jade flute's grooves by memory, the cool surface humming with latent power.

"My love, can you still hear me, even without the full moon?"

When the first notes rose into the darkness, they carried his soul with them. His heart poured into each note, the music weaving through the night air like a whispered prayer. Everything around him fell still as if the world itself hushed to listen.

Then—a breeze stirred. Soft, fleeting.

A single cherry blossom petal drifted down, landing weightlessly in his lap.

H/N's breath caught. He traced his fingers over the delicate petal, a smile forming at the edges of his lips. “That was you, wasn’t it, my love?”

He lifted it gently, pressing a reverent kiss to its soft surface before releasing it to the wind. The petal floated, swaying gracefully, before landing on the water.

His gaze followed it as ripples spread across the lake, setting the reflection of the crescent moon into motion. The silver arc shimmered, dancing upon the surface. Silver light fractured and reformed, winking at him like…

Suddenly—realization struck. H/N's breath caught.

"In silver stillness, I lay unseen, Where moonlight dances, yet light is lean.”

His pulse quickened.

“Of course…” he murmured. “The answer has been here all along. The lake—or within it.”

Excitement surged through him. This place, his sanctuary, where Y/N had first reached out to him—it had been guiding him all along. Tomorrow, at first light, he would begin his search. He was close. So close.

To be continued...

♡ Author's note

🌘 Get ready for Coachella...I mean Enchella. ❤️‍🔥 Part 26 coming soon.

Love, YumiYue 🌙

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

Please like, share, and follow! ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

Follow me on: 📸 Instagram: @yumiyue07 🎵 TikTok: @yumiyue07 📝 Wattpad: @LunaVerse_YumiYue

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fan fiction inspired by ENHYPEN’s song “Moonstruck”. All characters and events are fictional and are not intended to represent real people or events.

© 2025 LunaVerse - YumiYue07. All rights reserved. Please do not repost or reproduce this story without permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

1 note · View note