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vi-tamine · 1 day ago

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Heyyyyy!!!

If you are up for it, I'd love to see you write a Silco x Reader Story🙏🏻

Reader was like an older Sibling to Powder, Vi, Mylo and Clagger, making sure the kids were always okay. So that day, when almost everyone died and Silco took in Powder/Jinx, Reader went with them to keep an eye on Jinx. They turn more into a Parental Figure over time for her. Reader and Silco hated each other at first but tried to remain civil for Jinx. Over time feelings developed and both are in denial. So basically Enemies to Lovers.

Also Reader takes care of like the Bar, since they have already worked there when Vander was still alive. [Either behind the counter as a Bartender or as like Security]

Idc if its Fluffy or Angsty or smutty or smth!

I just need more Silco x Reader🙏🏻😭

at home (silco x reader)

words: 1517

genre(s): fluff, angst (i think..)

warnings: none

n/a: im sooo happy!!! thank u so much for requesting me!! this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous about it! i hope you like it and enjoy it a little!! i did my best!! want to remember that english isn't my first language, so im sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes, but this also helps me to improve :]

You were twenty years old when it all happened. When Mylo and Claggor died and Vi ran away after all the tragedy trying to rescue Vander from Silco's hands. You were the oldest of the three sisters, always under your care, even though you allowed them some freedom for their “missions” you always kept an eye on your sisters, in case it was necessary to get them out of some trouble.

That day, you went to help your brothers get Vander back, making Powder promise not to move from the basement. When the whole mess happened, you were barely aware of whatever was going on. One of your arms had been trapped under the rubble and you heard Powder's distant cries for Vi to come back for her. As best you could, you pulled yourself together, pushed away the debris over your arm and made your way to find the youngest of your sisters, the one that sounded closest. The crying seemed to be weaker, and when you looked up Silco had his arms around her as she hugged him, right next to Vander's lifeless body. You approached cautiously, brow furrowed at the whole unfamiliar situation.

“Stay away from her” you addressed Silco with a firm voice and furrowed brows. He did so without complaint, looking at you, keeping his composure and probably waiting for a move on your part that never came. Powder turned to look at you, her blue eyes brimming with tears. She hugged your legs, and before you knew it, you were both leaving with Silco and his people.

Seven years later you decided to take Vander's place in “The Last Drop”. Silco “signed it over” to you while he took one of the rooms to be his office. You were a little grateful that he would let you carry on the legacy of the one he once considered his brother.

You poured one last drink before Jinx sat down on one of the stools and rolled your eyes as you watched her turn in on herself. “Get your feet off the stool if you're going to be sitting here” you scolded her as you cleaned one of the glasses and poured her the juice she always asked for. “Thank you~” she thanked taking a sip from the straw. “I've been working on one of those grenades I showed you, and even though it explodes poorly, it's getting more and more powerful!” she explained somewhat excitedly as she looked at you with a slight smile. During all these years your sister had grown more than you would have liked. Sometimes nostalgia hit you, and all you could think about was how much older she had gotten and how rebellious and uncontrollable she had become.

Mylo and Claggor's death and Vi's abandonment left some aftereffects on your sister. Jinx was the name she had decided to adopt after Vi called her that name before abandoning her to her fate without even knowing if you were alive. Together with Silco you had raised her, and although you always tried to take her on a healthy and untroubled path, she ended up paying more attention to Silco than to you.

During all these years your vision of Silco was changing, and all the resentment and anger you had towards him, had been loosening when you saw the love and effort he put in wanting to take care of your sister. Your attitude towards him became more passive, and his attitude towards you became sweeter and more protective. You both had your sister, Jinx, as your priority.

“Be careful with those gadgets or someday your finger will explode.” you joked with your sister as you leaned your elbows on the bar to look at her. “I do know how to build inventions, sis, not like you” she joked with you before getting a tap on her shoulder from you. You rolled your eyes letting out a light chuckle. “By the way, Silco wants to see you” he spoke as he rubbed his shoulder with a pout. You frowned and sighed. “You take care of the drinks for a while then” you stepped out from behind the bar, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Jinx hopped over the bar to tend to the customers and scolded her for it before walking up to Silco's office.

You felt your heart beating stronger and stronger as you got closer to Silco's office. Since a few days ago your vision of the man who had given (somehow) shelter to you and your sister, apart from starting to respect him, perhaps your feelings towards him had taken a different direction, a more romantic one. Every night you told yourself that it was wrong, if you thought about it, it was against your morals and principles to like Silco, so you tried to hold back that feeling as much as you could.

You knocked on the door, and after hearing a low “Come in”, you entered the room, allowing you to see Silco in his chair as usual and Sevika next to him. They both looked at you, and with a slight gesture, Silco had Sevika leave the room, closing the door behind her. You sat down in the chair in front of the table, sighing and making yourself comfortable as you noticed how her gaze was fixed on you.

“What is it this time, what has Jinx done to what-” you couldn't finish formulating the sentence Silco cut you off. “Your sister is out of jail” your back and your whole body started to bristle. “With the help of a Piltover enforcer.” You discovered that Vi had been arrested and sent to Stillwater. Seven years later she seemed to have gotten out. A confused feeling invaded your body. You were happy, your sister had been released. And at the same time you were filled with rage, she had abandoned you and your sister. Then came the feeling of guilt, you were the oldest, much older than them, and you had let your sister be arrested, you had not fought for her. You swallowed and immediately got up from the couch. “Don't let Jinx know. Not yet, at least.” you left the room without even looking or listening to what Silco would have to tell you.

. . . . . .

Later that night, having just closed the bar and with only the music to keep you company, you finished putting the last chairs back on the tables and mopping the floor. Before you even went to sleep you decided to pour yourself a shot of whiskey. You sat on the freshly cleaned bar and, with your mother's favorite song playing in the background, you thought about everything. Your parents, your sisters, brothers, Vander, Silco, everything. The alcohol scratched your throat as you thought about how you were going to confront Vi at some point, what you would say to her, how she would be, how she would react to seeing who you were with. Maybe she would understand you if she realized you were doing it all for Jinx. Maybe she would martyr you if she knew about your feelings for Silco.

“May I have some?” a voice from behind you shuddered. Turning slightly to grab a glass, you saw Silco planted behind you. You nodded wordlessly, pouring for him as well and watching as he took a long sip. He looked back at you. “Why the long face?” he asked. You laughed wryly. “As if you didn't know” you replied clicking your tongue. You didn't want to talk down to him, but your feelings at that moment were what they were. He seemed to understand, he didn't add a word.

He set the glass down on the bar and one of your hands rested on your shoulder, lightly trailing down your arm. “She's going to understand.” he simply said. You shook your head, also dropping the glass and looking sideways at him. “She's not going to understand. She can't. I don't blame her. I'm a horrible sister.” you sighed. You felt like your eyes were going to release tears at any moment. You noticed Silco's rough hand touch yours, embrace yours with his fingers and with his thumb caress the back of your hand. You let yourself be touched. “We should have left, Silco. We don't belong here. It's not our place. I should have taken Pow-” you couldn't finish your sentence Silco had crashed his lips to yours. You couldn't even react when he broke away. You looked at him still dumbfounded.

“If she doesn't understand, we're going to make her understand. But don't you ever, ever, ever say again that you don't belong here. You do. You belong by my side,” and when he finished speaking you couldn't help but kiss his lips back. Your heart had just exploded like a bomb, and Silco had detonated it. There were probably going to be repercussions, surely none of this was going to go well, but for the first time, when you were dancing in his arms, you felt at home again.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 6- Undeniable

Summary: when your car breaks down, you’re forced to ask Frankie for help. You’re not sure what you hate more- that you have to ask him for help, or that there’s a part of you that maybe can tolerate him

Word count: 6.2k

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: Angst, tension (in a good way??!!), yearning (AHHH), teenage Frankie (and current day Frankie, for that matter) are down so bad, Santi and Benny play Dr. Phil

A/N: okay I said there would be smut this chapter, but I am a liar, and I am sorry 🤥 I flip flopped some scenes around and it ended up making more sense for some ✨things✨ to happen next chapter instead 🤷🏼‍♀️ I seriously love these two more and more every chapter, and this may have been my favorite one to write so far!! Thank you SO much for all the kind things you’ve had to say about this story- it really means more to me than you know 🥺💛 (sorry for any errors, I didn't have time to edit this chapter as well as I should have!)

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Frankie, Age 18, Summer of 2007

“Jesus Christ, Morales, you got bricks for feet, or what?”

The Garcia’s newly installed basketball hoop had been a welcome addition to the neighborhood rotation of afterschool hangouts. Santi knows just as well as Frankie and Benny that it’s really nothing but a ploy to keep the boys occupied and out their parent’s hair, but the three have gladly accepted the olive branch Santi’s parents have extended to them, regardless of motive.

Now that the heat of late May has begun to sear off the pavement of Everett Street and the dwindling motivation of senior year is in full force, basketball has quickly taken over as the new after school activity.

Benny and Santi love it because it gives them a chance to get out the competitive angst they’ve had locked away since football season has come to a close.

Frankie loves it because it gives him something to keep him occupied until you come home from soccer practice.

Even then, he still finds himself anxiously counting down the minutes until your car pulls into the driveway, stepping out of the driver’s seat to give him that same goofy wave of approval that frees him from his friends’ constant bickering about where the three point line lays on the cement.

Ever since he told you he was leaving, there’s a part of him that debates forgoing basketball all together, just so he can make it to your house that much quicker when you get home. Now more than ever, he’s hyper aware of every second he has left with you, the internal countdown constantly nagging in the back of his mind before it’s four hundred miles that separate the two of you, not four houses.

Because now, not only does he have 74 days left to figure out how to say goodbye to his best friend, he has 74 days left to figure out how to tell her that he’s head over heels in love with her.

That’s what’s on Frankie’s mind as the pass Santi’s thrown at him rolls right past his shoes and down the driveway.

No shit, he’s got bricks for feet.

“Helloooooo? Earth to Frankie? You gonna get the fuckin’ ball, or what?” Santi shouts, wildly waving his arms, trying to snap his friend out of whatever weird daydream he’s stuck in.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Frankie stammers, half jogging for the bouncing ball, tossing it back to Benny, also barely paying attention enough to keep the rubber from smacking him upside the head.

“Fuck, dude, you tryin’ to kill me, or somethin’? A heads up would be nice next time!” Benny scoffs, trying to downplay the fact he’s nearly just shit his pants from the ball that came out of nowhere and almost took him out.

“S-sorry. My bad.” Frankie grimaces, sheepishly running his hand through his thick, messy curls before rubbing the back of his neck.

Santi and Benny exchange confused glances with each other before turning their attention back to their clearly pre-occupied friend.

“Hey, you good, man?” Santi asks, scrunching his brow at Frankie’s tortured scowl.

“Yeah dude, you’ve been like, super out of it the past couple of days. Everything okay?” Benny adds. He tries to discreetly nudge Santi, givinging him a look that’s meant to ask if there’s something he’s missing. The best Santi can give him back is an ambivalent shrug, just as lost as his friend as to why Frankie’s mentally residing on another planet.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m fine.”

Sure, Santi and Benny aren’t as emotionally mature as their friend, but they also aren’t stupid. It’s obvious there’s something he’s keeping from them, and they’re far too relentless to let it go until they find out.

“Dude… C’mon.” Santi prods, taking a step towards Frankie to poke him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, spill the fuckin’ beans, Frank. What the hell’s goin’ on?” Benny chimes in, following Santi’s lead with another forceful poke.

“It’s nothing! Jesus, will you drop it?”

Santi smirks at how agitated Frankie’s become, spending enough years with his friend to know there’s one thing, and one thing only that’s got him this worked up.

“Is this about Kenz?”

Frankie’s eyes dart rapidly between his friends, the sky and his feet, too afraid to settle in one place as he’s consumed by his own silence, crossing his arms over his chest as he braces himself to defend against the onslaught he’s about to be faced with.

He could lie, say no, keep arguing with Santi and Benny until he’s blue in the face, but he knows it’s no use. Deep down, he has a feeling they already know what he’s going to say. He also has a feeling he’ll never go a day for the rest of his life where they won’t give him ten pounds of shit for it, but Frankie’s desperate. If he doesn’t figure out what to do, there’s a good chance he just may explode.

“You have to swear you won’t say anything about this to anyone.” Frankie sternly sighs, eyeing down his friends with a deathly glare, “Swear you won’t.”

“We swear, man.”

“Yeah, we swear.”

Benny and Santi nod in agreement, too shocked at his agreement to tell them anything rather than asking them to fuck off and leave him alone. They wait in patient silence as Frankie takes a long, shaky deep breath in.

“I um- fuck. Fuck.” He stammers, terrified to hear himself admit what he’s had locked away in his brain for years out loud for the first time, “I’m uh- I think I’m in love with MacKezie. I think I’m in love with her and I don’t know what to do.”

Frankie’s mortified by the silence from his friends in the seconds that follow. He’s even more mortified by their howling laughter that comes after that.

“That’s it? Oh, thank God!” Santi cackles, him and Benny clutching their chests to try and keep themselves standing, “Dude, I thought you were gonna say something fucking crazy. You looked like you were gonna fucking throw up.”

“W-what? Santi, did you not just hear what I fucking said? I literally just told you-”

“That you’re in love with MacKenzie? News flash, Morales, we’ve known you’ve been in love with her since like, the eighth grade. Holy shit, I can’t believe you finally fucking admitted it!”

Frankie’s face grows hotter by the second, his cheeks ablaze with bright reds and pinks, not sure if he’s more embarrassed by what he’s admitted, or the fact that he’s worked himself up for weeks to finally tell his friends something they’ve already known for years and Frankie was too blind to realize it.

“Well, okay- I just- what am I- what am I gonna do?” Frankie stutters, throwing his hands up to the sky, very aware that the admittance of his love for you is only a small part to his greater problem.

“Whatta you mean, what are you gonna do?” Benny questions, he and Santi still giggling over how frantic and flustered Frankie still was.

“It’s not fuckin’ rocket science, Frank.” Santi smirks, giving him a playful nudge, “Just tell her that you love her.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Santi?! I can’t just tell her I love her, that’s- fuck, that’s crazy!” Frankie’s all but shouting at his friend for what feels like the most outrageous idea he’s ever heard, crazily pacing up and down the driveway, as if he’s asking his friends for advice on where to hide the body he’s just killed.

“And that would be crazy because….?” Santi teases, anxiously awaiting whatever ridiculous answer Frankie has to finish off the rest of his sentence.

“Because?!” Frankie asks, storming so fast up and down the driveway, he’s about to make fresh cracks in the concrete, “Because, b-because- fuck, Santi, what if I tell her that I love her and she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin our friendship forever and then I get my fuckin’ heart broken and lose my best friend? Jesus Christ, that’s why.”

“You wanna tell him or should I?” Benny proposes, shrugging at Santi.

In a silent agreement, Santi gives Benny a nod, taking a step towards Frankie to grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand still enough to capture his full attention.

“Frankie, lemme ask you this.” Santi pauses, bringing Frankie’s gaze from his feet up to his friend, thinking for once in his life, he may actually be willing to give him some serious advice.

“Yeah?”

“Are you blind, or are you stupid? ‘Cause I think you may be both.”

“What the fuck, dude?!” Frankie scoffs over Santi and Benny’s snickering, outstretching his arms to push Santi off of him.

“Damn, maybe he is.” Benny grimaces overdramatically, playing into Santi’s theatrics.

“Fuck off, Benny!” Frankie frowns, starting to regret asking his friends for help.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I really have to spell this out for you.” Santi sighs, squeezing his temples between his thumb and index finger.

“What!?” Frankie presses, nearly fed up with his antics.

“Shit, you’re right Benny, he may be dumber than we thought.” Santi snorts before quickly turning his attention back to Frankie, “Frankie… You do realize MacKenzie’s in love with you too, right?”

Frankie feels his heart stop. He’s partly convinced it’s flatlined indefinitely. The only thing that’s keeping him alive is even the tiniest chance that what Santi has to say is actually true.

That maybe, just maybe, you love him, too.

“Santi, c’mon. Be- be fucking serious. There’s no way.”

Frankie won’t let himself believe anything yet, no matter how badly he wants to. Knowing Santi, he wouldn’t be shocked if he’s trying to pull him in to some sick sort of joke, but the looks on his, and Benny’s faces is all the earth shattering reassurance Frankie needs to know that Santi’s telling the truth.

“He’s being serious, I swear.” Benny chimes in, trying to aid in convincing Frankie.

“Think about it, Frank. The two of you spend every fucking second together. You’re basically already dating without actually dating. And not even just because of the fact you like, pretty much go on dates to the movies or ice cream, or whatever. Didn’t you say she cried for like, an hour when you told her you were leaving?”

“I- I mean, y- yeah, I guess.”

“Or the fact that she’s never dated anyone else and has had you locked in as her prom date since last year.” Benny adds.

“Don't even get me started on the fact you two cuddle every time we watch a movie together, because God forbid you’re not touching each other for an hour and a half.”

“I- I- I- don’t know. I mean, sure, yeah, but just because she does that doesn’t mean she’s in love with me!”

Frankie can feel his insides churn, like someone’s put them in a blender and cranked it on high. He’s not sure what’s more terrifying- that you do all those things but you’re not in love with him, or that you do all of them because you are.

He quickly comes to determine the second is much scarier than the first. Mostly because there’s a part of him that believes maybe you’re just as in love with him as he is with you.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Frankie’s knees wobble as he sinks to the ground, bottom hitting the pavement with a thud.

“Well shit, don’t do it on the driveway, my mom’s gonna kill me. If you gotta yak, at least do it on the grass.”

Santi and Benny settle in on either side of Frankie, the trio of boys squatting at the edge of the driveway. Frankie buries his head in his hands, scrunching his face so hard into his sweaty palms that maybe, some sort of reasonable idea will pop into his brain if he squeezes hard enough.

“You guys really think she likes me? Like, actually?” Frankie asks, peeking his head up to look back and forth between Santi and Benny.

“Uh, yeah.” The pair agree in unison, each giving their friend a pat on the back, trying to keep their all-knowing laughter at bay to soothe Frankie through his distress.

“Fuck. Holy shit. So- So what do I do? Just- Do I just tell her?”

“I mean, I’m no love guru, but you like, may wanna be a little more subtle than that.” Benny snickers, giving Frankie a little nudge, “I mean, do you wanna tell her?”

“Yeah. Fuck. Fuck, I wanna tell her so bad.” It spills out of Frankie’s mouth without any hesitation. The more he thinks about it, the more sure he is.

“Like, you’re already going with her to prom and stuff. You could do it then?” Santi suggests with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Damn, alright, Mr. Romance over here with the advice.”

“Shut up, Benny. You got any better advice? At least I’ve fuckin’ had a girlfriend before, you dingus, have you? Didn’t think so.”

Frankie’s completely blocked out their bickering, lost in his own train of thought, where all he can picture is you- Your smile, the little strand of hair that you tuck behind your ear when it falls in your face, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, the little curl in your lips you get when you smirk at him when he tells a stupid joke.

How badly he wishes his lips could meet yours to feel that smirk pressed against his face.

“Do… Do you- Do you think I should kiss her?”

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, what are we, twelve?” Yeah, man, fuckin’ kiss her.” Santi snorts, Benny joining in with muffled laughter in his throat at the innocence of his question, “God, with how nervous you sounded, I thought you were gonna ask if you should like, have sex with her, or somethin’.”

It’s then his brain truly short circuits, his heart about to fall out of his ass and lump in his throat the size of a softball.

He has enough balls to admit he’s thought plenty of times about kissing you.

But right now, he certainly doesn’t have enough balls to confess to his friends, (or even to himself, for that matter) he’s spent just as much time thinking about doing a lot more than just kissing you.

He’s spent even more time thinking about just how badly he wants to.

One step at a time, Morales.

You, Present

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”

Turning over your ignition to the sound of empty rattles once wasn’t anything to worry about.

Turning it over twice to the sound of silence you could chalk up to bad luck.

But after six different attempts to start your car to no avail, you were fairly certain your issue wasn’t based solely on user error.

“Fuck…” You huff to yourself, yanking out your keys and slamming the driver’s side door behind you as you storm back into the house, now in a race against the clock to get your car not only started, but driveable enough to get you to work on time.

It’s the stupid things like this you haven’t mentally prepared yourself for when it comes to your father’s impending death- Not having a built in mechanic at your disposal to help solve your car issues when something goes awry. It seems selfish to take from the few precious moments you have left with him to pester your dad about your car troubles, but you know for a fact, your dying father has a better chance of diagnosing your issue from his bed than you do hands deep in the engine.

“Hey, Dad.” You grimace, gently rousing him from his half-awake state in front of the TV, “Dad, can I ask you something, or are you too busy dying?”

Your joke is enough to crack a sleepy smile in the corner of his lips, grunting as he turns his head over to see you hunched over the edge of his bed.

“Depends. Is it worth my time, or should I go back to decaying?” He fights with everything in him to let out the softest laugh, a sputtering cough following as his chest rises and falls, trying his best to not let his final days prevent him from being the helpful dad you’d always known.

“My car won’t start. Do you have any idea of what it could be?”

“You gonna wheel me out to the driveway to have me figure it out?”

You both know it’s ridiculous, what you’re asking him to do. You’re not sure what compelled you to think that he’d be able to help solve your problem, but your yearning for the normalcy that’s been absent in your life for so long seems to outweigh any logic.

“I think we could probably crank the bed high enough for you to look under the hood.” You shrug with a sad type of sarcasm, anxiously fiddling with your fingers to try and brainstorm a solution to your time-sensitive issue.

“You know there’s someone four houses down who is very capable of solving your problem who isn’t dying.”

For as hard as your dad fought for his half huffed laugher, he fights even harder for the smug smirk pinching the corner of his cheeks.

“Dad…” You let out a deep breath, trying to not let your eyes roll to the back of your skull from even pondering the idea of admitting to Frankie Morales that you need his help.

“Mackenzie Grace?” He questions back, pretending to be blissfully unaware of your reason for dramatic pause.

“Dad, you can’t be serious.”

“I am, actually. Dead serious. And right now, I’m at a point in my life where that statement can’t be any closer to the truth.”

Unfortunately, that’s an argument you can’t fight.

You sigh again, chewing at your lip to see if your brain can muster any other plausible solution before you admit defeat, but you know it’s no use. Your dad is kind enough to accept your silence as a white flag, sparing you the embarrassment of admitting he’s right. What he’s not kind enough to do, is to let you off without making sure he gets the last word.

“You can’t stay mad at him forever, honey.”

“I can, actually.”

Right now, your dad better thank his lucky stars he’s dying, because any other circumstance, and you would have already been halfway out the door before you put yourself through this conversation again.

“MacKenzie,” He pauses, the frail and wrinkled ends of his fingertips reaching out just enough to rest on the hand you have wrapped around the bar of his bed guard rails, “if I give you some dying words of wisdom, do you promise to listen, actually listen to what I have to say?”

You know he’s about to tell you something you have no intention of wanting to hear. You want so badly to lie, to say “yes”, just to appease him without really meaning it. But the guilty conscious eating you alive in the pit of your stomach won’t let you get off that easily.

“Yeah, I promise.”

It’s soft enough for only you and him, just quiet enough to keep the world out of your shared secret.

“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either. I’d be willing to bet he’s still holding one against you, too. There’s two sides to every story, MacKenzie Grace, and you can’t keep blaming him like you didn’t have a part in what happened, too. He’s already accepted he’s in the wrong for what he did. God bless the fact you ended up just as stubborn as your old man, but at some point, you have to get off your high horse and do the same.”

It’s unsettling, the feeling that washes over you- it makes every inch of your body twinge and wince in a strange sort of self-inflicted pain you can’t shake, the indescribable discomfort that makes you want to crawl out of your skin and evaporate into thin air. The tormented sensation stirring in your gut makes you want to scream and cry and run away, all at the same time.

Because it’s not the truth of your dad’s words alone that make you feel this way- you’ve come face to face with this truth more times than you’d like to count.

It’s the fact that for the first time, you’ve come face to face with the truth, and there’s a part of you that can accept it.

You stand there for another moment at the edge of his bed, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to find the words you’re too scared to admit. Maybe your silence is a loud enough confession.

“I’ll see you when I get back from work, okay?” You lean down and kiss his head, giving your dad’s hand a final, gentle squeeze before you’re halfway out the door, car keys in hand.

“I thought your car wasn’t working?”

Your dad has never been one for “I told you so’s” . The stifled smile and playful glisten in his tired eyes will do just fine.

“Bye, Dad.”

Your dad’s words echo in your brain as you begin your journey down the driveway, terrified by the tiniest amount of weight it’s lifted off your shoulders.

“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.”

Maybe he’s got a point. But that’s easy to say when you’re only dealing with the idea of Frankie you’ve built up in your head, not when you’re about to come face to face with him in real time.

There’s a part of you that debates just walking to work. Hell, the hour walk it would take you to get to work would probably be easier than the thirty second walk you’re about to take four houses down.

You’ll be lucky if you don’t gnaw off your entire thumbnail by the time you make it to the Morales’s doorstep, trying to clench your fists as tight as possible with every step you take towards their house to attempt to keep your nerves (and nails) intact.

You’re not sure you’ve ever walked this slow to his house. There was once a time that you couldn’t sprint there fast enough, legs leaping over cracks in the sidewalk to meet Frankie at his front door. Now, it feels like you might as well be crawling with the time you’re trying to waste before you ring his doorbell.

You practically tip toe up the steps to the porch, like it’s some sort of crime to be at his house and you’re terrified of being caught. Your finger hovers over the doorbell, outstretched and ready to press, too frozen in fear to move the extra inch it will take to press the rounded button.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse under your breath, furrowing your brow at your inability to face his front door. You ball your free hand up to a fist, slamming your knuckles against your forehead with a sigh so heavy, you’d probably give that wolf from The Three Little Pigs a run for his money, “‘C’mon, MacKenzie, just ring the damn doorbell.”

Your heart stops as the tip of your index finger finally pushes hard enough to force the high pitched chime, forcing yourself to keep your feet planted on the doormat below you instead of booking it half way across town.

“One sec!”

The bellow of his voice from behind the door is enough to jumpstart the stand still of your heartbeat, so much so that in an instant, it’s gone from flatlining to nearly beating out of your chest.

At this point, even if you wanted to run, you’re not sure your body would let you.

As the knob turns and draws back towards the house, Frankie’s broad body fills the doorframe. He looks almost as frozen as you, so stunned by your presence, his tongue darts between his lips as a placeholder for the words he lacks.

“H-hey?” He asks it so cautiously, eyebrows scrunching in confusion while he looks you up and down, too scared to say anything else until he figures out why you’ve shown up at his front door.

“My um- My car won’t- I have to go to work and I can’t get my car to start.”

You don’t dare phrase it as anything other than a statement of fact. You’ll die before the words “Frankie, will you help me?” escape from your lips.

“O-oh. Shit.” He cocks his head, the pinch of his face immediately easing along with the rest of his body, standing up a little straighter as he leans against the doorframe.

“Sorry, i-if you’re busy or whatever, don’t feel like you-”

“No- No, I mean, yeah, no, I don’t- shit-” He stutters, pausing as he shakes his head with a little laugh at the ground, trying to compose himself before he trips over his words again, “Yes, I um- Yeah, I can help.”

“O-okay. Thank- Thanks.” You try to fight the tug you feel in your lips creeping towards the corner of your cheeks that mirrors the grin Frankie’s trying so desperately to hide on his face.

The two of you stand there for a moment, feet wriggling in the tips of your shoes and fingers twiddling in your pockets, using every ounce of strength you have to ignore the heat flushing through your cheeks that makes you want to hate him just a little bit less.

It’s hard to suppress when Frankie’s trying to keep up his facade with the world’s worst poker face as he’s beaming ear to ear.

“Let me just uh- Lemme grab some stuff and I’ll meet you over there?” He asks, tiptoeing around what seems too good to be true.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, sounds good.”

You give each other a little nod before he disappears behind his door. You tilt your head to the sky, eyes closed as the deepest sigh of relief you can take escapes your body. It feels like the first gasp you take when you peak above the surface after holding your breath underwater, remembering what it feels like to finally breathe again.

It takes everything in you to pretend you don’t feel the strange pang in your chest as you watch Frankie walk to your house after you’ve made it back to your driveway, his gray shirt clinging to his biceps as he carries over his bucket of tools and brown curls spilling out from under the worn, Standard Oil hat he’s obviously still refused to throw away.

You lean against the hood of your car, arms crossed over your chest, trying your best to seem ambivalent about the whole ordeal.

If you were nominated for an Oscar in the “Pretending to be aloof in front of Frankie Morales while he fixes your car” category, you most surely wouldn’t be winning.

“Hey, again.” He grins as he sets his tools down, mirroring your stance to cross his arms over his chest.

“Hey, again.” You parrot.

“So, uh… Your car?” Frankie asks, nodding over to the vehicle you’re leaning on.

“Yeah, uh- yeah, I don’t know what’s going on. I tried starting it like, five different times and it doesn’t do anything. I’ve never had this happen to me before and of course it’s when I’m trying to leave for work.” You shrug, trying to play into the fact you at least tried to do something before coming to find him.

“Huh. Alright, well, lemme see what I can do, okay?” He nods again, leaving your fingers to play with your sleeves to keep yourself occupied, instead of staring at him, mesmerized by the way you can still hear the gears turning in his brain as he processes. “Can I uh- is it okay if I have the keys?”

You fumble through your pockets, digging out your keys to place them in the palm of Frankie’s outstretched hand, the linger of your touch on his skin just long enough to make you subtly jerk your arm back in embarrassment.

You step back to let Frankie slide past you, watching him try to squeeze himself into the driver’s seat to start your car, half his body still hanging out the open door.

“Are you- are you not teaching anymore?”

“Wh- huh?” His question catches you off guard, the scowl of confusion painted across your face making him quickly elaborate before drawing his attention back to your car.

“You just uh- sorry, you said you were going to work. It’s 5 P.M. on a Thursday in June, so, ya know, figured you probably weren’t going to school.”

He gives the key one more turn before sliding out of the car, carefully passing your keys back off to you before making his way to open the hood. You cautiously follow behind him, arms still crossed against your chest as he props the front of the car up to reveal the engine.

“Oh. Uh- no, yeah. No, I’m uh- I’m still teaching. Normally I do summer school to make some extra money, but because of my dad and everything and not being home, it just, ya know, I just couldn’t. I still wanted something to do to make money and keep me busy, so um, Katie’s Dad still owns The Parrot’s Nest on 14th, so I asked him if I could just do some part time waitressing and bartending and stuff. It’s nice ‘cause he’s been really flexible with everything going on.”

Your eyes dart to the ground as Frankie shifts his view from the inside of the car back to you. The air fills with a heavy pause, like neither of you are really sure how to react to the fact you’re managing a semi-civil conversation that’s more than just one word responses.

Frankie lets out a quiet huff, trying to hide the soft smile curling in the corner of his scruff covered cheeks before turning back to the car, silently tinkering for a few moments before mustering up the courage to speak again.

“That’s nice of him. Didn’t even know that place was still around.” There’s a little grunt as he leans deeper into the car, reaching around to search for some sort of part he wants to check, “I’m uh- I’m glad you’re still teaching, though. That’s um, that’s good.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Your hands have shifted from folded across your chest to in your pockets, a subconscious move you’ve made as a brick from the wall you’ve built between yourself and Frankie Morales seems to crumble without you realizing.

You let him work for a few more moments before he’s diagnosed your issue, carefully closing the hood and wiping the engine grime on the towel from the tool bucket he’s brought with him.

“So uh- good news is, you just need a new battery. Easy fix. Bad news is, your battery’s dead, and your car’s not gonna start without a new one.” Frankie shrugs, hoping he’s not pushing his luck with the little laugh he gives himself at his joke.

“Fuck. Okay, uh- shit, okay.” You mutter, not necessarily upset with Frankie for delivering the news of his discovery, but angry at the fact you need to buy a new car battery and have no way to get to work. “Um, sorry, give me a second, I’m gonna call Jim and let him know that I can’t make it in today.”

“I- I can drive you.”

You’re sure Frankie’s just as surprised as you when the offer comes out of his mouth, freezing your thumb over your boss’s contact you’re about to dial. Frankie clearly interprets the look on your face as one of skepticism about his idea, quickly trying to backpedal before he preemptively digs his own grave.

“No, I mean, um- if you want. I can- I can drop you off. So you, uh- that way you don’t have to miss work.”

“No, Frankie, it’s fine, you- you already helped figure out what’s wrong with my car, it’s not a big deal, don’t wo-”

“I want to.”

You don’t mean for your sigh to be as audible as it is. It only seems fair, considering there was no world in which you ever considered having to contemplate not only asking Frankie for help, but also spending a fifteen minute car ride together so he can drop you off at work. You chew at your bottom lip as you contemplate the lesser of two evils- be stuck in Frankie’s metal death trap of a car, forced within a 3 foot proximity of him for the entire ride, or miss out on the most hours you’ve been scheduled in the past two weeks for money you really do need.

Swallowing your pride is the toughest pill you’ve had to swallow in quite a long time.

“Fine.”

It’s not even your answer you think shocks him the most. It’s how little he had to argue with you to agree.

You want to roll your eyes at the little smirk of satisfaction he gives himself, knowing you’ve gone 0-2 on your hardened stance of despising Frankie’s guts since talking with your dad. It only stings more that you’re sure Frankie is getting endless amounts of satisfaction that you’ve given into him so quickly.

But fuck, if you didn’t miss that stupid, goofy grin of his when he knows he’s beaten you at your own game.

“Only if your car isn’t gonna kill us first before we get there.” You groan, eyeing down Frankie’s beater truck he’s been driving since he got his license. It was in questionable shape over a decade ago, you’re not sure what kind of deal Frankie made with the devil to keep the hunk of junk up and running.

“She’s fine. Haven’t managed to kill you in her yet, have I?” Frankie rebuttals, grabbing his tools as you follow behind him towards his car.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You sigh, shaking your head in annoyance that Frankie’s still driving this damn thing on principle alone, “How the fuck is this thing even still running?”

“‘Cause you don’t give her enough credit. Got me here from North Carolina just fine.” Frankie scoffs, the two of you settling into your perspective seats inside his truck.

His comment makes you frown at your lap as you buckle your seatbelt, not because of the sass he’s inflicted, but because it reminds you that he’s moved himself states away just to further the distance between you two.

“S-sorry, it was meant to be a joke.” Frankie mutters, looking over at you as he drives and noticing the way you’ve gone quiet, eyes peeled to the ground.

“No, I know.” You reply back, anxiously digging under your nails with your stare still locked on your feet. “How’s um- how’s North Carolina?”

“Oh. Um, It’s uh- It’s fine, I guess.”

It’s then you notice Frankie’s realized the reason for your silence, uncomfortably fidgeting in his seat and grip tightening around the steering wheel as he processes your disappointment.

It’s hard to decipher what he means by “fine.” Fine, like he’s more than fine and doesn't want to rub it in your face how well he’s doing? Fine, like actually a normal amount of fine and he just has nothing of interest to report? Fine, like he’s not fine at all, but doesn’t have the balls to admit it to you?

With the way he can’t bring himself to look at you, it has to be the first or third option. You’re not sure which one is worse.

You’re also not sure why you feel so compelled to find out.

“You still uh- doing um, mechanic stuff for the Army?” You ask, glancing over just enough to watch Frankie’s fingers drum against the steering wheel.

“Yeah. Helicopter maintenance, mostly.”

It’s still not enough to give you the definitive answer you’re looking for. You’re too stubborn for your own good to just quit while you’re ahead. Because of all the questions you could have asked him, the one you ask him next is like voluntarily putting a gun to your head and asking him to shoot.

“Are you, uh- you um, seeing anyone? Samantha, or whatever her name was?”

It’s the first time he locks eyes with you since you’ve gotten in the car. Frankie looks you up and down, tongue running across the top of his teeth under his lips and raising his brows just enough to let you know you’ve got his attention.

Every second of silence that lingers before his answer only leads you to believe he’s trying to let you down slowly before he has to pull the trigger. You brace yourself for the bullet.

“No. I uh, shit- I- Sarah and I broke up a while ago. After um, after Santi’s wedding, actually. No, I um, I’m not seeing anyone. Haven’t really been since then, I guess.”

Your body stays tense, still bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, but it never comes. Not only has Frankie taken his finger off the trigger, he’s put away the gun all together. You’re so stunned you’ve made it out of the question alive, you aren’t quite sure how to react.

“O-oh. I uh- I didn’t know.”

“Are- are you? S-seeing anyone?” He stutters, the words heavy in his throat as he gulps.

“No. After how things ended with Liam, I just- I haven’t either.”

It’s uncomfortable, the silence that fills the car and seeps between you. Not quite awkward, not quite upset, not quite relieved, either. It’s heavy, like a backpack full of bricks you’ve had strapped to your shoulders that you refuse to put down- you’d rather keep burdening yourself with the weight than just take it off, too used to the ache it spreads to every inch of your body.

Maybe, the silence is so uncomfortable because you’re starting to realize how stupid it is to let these types of things keep weighing you down.

Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.

You’ve been so lost in your own head, you’d barely even realized the car had come to a stop, the soft orange and pink glow of The Parrot’s Nest sign illuminating the inside of Frankie’s truck with muted neon snapping you back to reality.

Your hand wraps around the door handle, ready to break free into the parking lot before Frankie’s voice stops you.

“What time are you done?”

You look back over your shoulder, taken aback.

“Why?”

“So I can pick you up.”

It’s so matter of fact, like he had never contemplated any other option from the moment he’d offer to drive you, his soft, brown eyes sinking as you shake your head at him.

“Frankie, it’s fine. I can have someone else drive me ho-”

“Please?”

Your head wants to say no. It wants to push open the door with a half hearted “thanks for the ride” and pretend like the past 15 minutes had simply never existed, wiping the strange pang in your chest and swirling in your stomach from its memory.

Apparently, your heart’s decided it has other plans.

“I’m done at ten.”

“Then I promise to be back here at ten.”

Frankie Morales is a man who’s broken many things.

Your heart, your trust, your friendship.

But out of all the things Frankie has broken, he’s never broken a promise.

And that’s how you know at ten o’clock sharp, you’ll find his beat up Chevy in the parking lot of The Parrot’s Nest, waiting for you.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

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@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

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@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

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pbaz7 · 20 hours ago

Text

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

#pazzi #paige x azzi

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deaths-accountant · 1 day ago

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Not an essay, but in Year 9, Religious Studies did a half-term on the Holocaust, which I was excited for, as I liked history and hated RS. But it turned out they didn't really teach us anything. So it transpired that we were assigned to make a piece of art based on what we learned about the Holocaust.

Which was kind of an insane thing to ask 13–14-year-olds, who had largely been treating these lessons as much of a joke as every other RS lesson. I procrastinated on this because... err... what, and because I had other things to do. So I ended up, the day before, still having no idea how to do this respectfully and drawing a stick figure outline with a yellow star and blood on it, surrounded by barbed wire.

The outline turned out terribly distorted, which, in the writing we were supposed to submit with it, I said was due to starvation. The yellow star had a line down the middle from when I drew it wrong, which I turned into it being cracked down the middle. I said that this represented the Nazis attempting to divide the Jewish people but them staying together—I knew this was bullshit. I had heard the stories of people in concentration camps betraying each other for any chance to cling to survival, but it was exactly the kind of platitude we had been taught in RS for the past few weeks, so I figured it would go down well.

I handed this in apprehensive but expecting the teacher wouldn't have the nerve to call me out on it. I was prepared to be told that I hadn't done the homework properly, but I wasn't prepared to be told it was one of the best in the class and asked to speak about it in front of the class. The marking was meant to be for the writing, not the art itself, you see.

This was a bit shocking at the time, and I definitely hated having to get up at the front of the class and say the same bullshit description in front of everyone. But in hindsight, I think it shows a real failure of Holocaust education.

We weren't being taught any history, and we weren't expected to say things that were true—we were expected to recite positive platitudes about Holocaust victims. And the course was filled with all the same busywork that Year 9 education on any other topic is, not conveying any sense of seriousness. Not that a sense of seriousness would have saved it when you're trying to do Holocaust education without actually teaching people about history.

Fundamentally, it was playing off the stereotyped idea of the Holocaust—that the Nazis were a unique evil who came out of nowhere, that there was no resistance and no heterogeneity, who had no motivation, and that everyone they victimized was a perfect, angelic victim who never tried to save themselves.

It was an education by a probably tired teacher, aiming only to get students to say "Jews are good," rather than to teach them what happened during the Holocaust. As if making people say that is going to stop anyone from becoming antisemites.

It was a sanitized view of the Holocaust, which reinforced the idea that there are no lessons that can be learned for our society. It was a course that resulted from someone being told they have to teach about the Holocaust without knowing how to do that. It was a course that didn't itself know how to treat the Holocaust respectfully because it wanted to treat the Holocaust as a magic wand to wave to get children to say that they don't hate anyone—and because our education system isn't designed to bother teaching children anything until they reach GCSE age.

Someone making a piece of art like that, not for a homework task, wouldn't just be bad art—it would be outright offensive. But the teacher wouldn't say that because she didn't have the time, or the understanding, or the energy to care. And if she did, she would basically have had to reprimand most of the class for actually doing the task that she set.

I thought I'd pulled off a great heist at the time, but realistically, the teacher just had no incentive not to buy my bullshit.

I guess the lesson here is that just saying you'll do Holocaust education isn't enough, and it needs to actually be resourced. In an endogenously marketised school system, where resources are only available for examined courses, it will default to reinforcing preconceptions, because that's what's cheapest.

Have you ever basically bullshitted an essay and gotten a great grade?

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urmum-lovesme · 1 day ago

Text

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: hey guys :) this is actually my first time ever writing something so this is lowkey kinda scary. BUT, I really really wanted to write a slow burn between Rafe and his best friend, cause I can see that happening, who doesn't want that anyways? If it works, this'll deffo be a series cause I have a whole concept behind it, guess we're going to have to wait and see. The pictures are taken off pinterest so credit to whoever's they are.

(may have suggested bi!reader, see if you can spot it)

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of drugs, sexual innuendo's, someone throwing up, just Rafe being whipped for his bsf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The classroom was bright, colourful colouring cladded the walls, the blue-tack melting slowly in the sticky heat. Rafe sat by himself, struggling to tie his shoes, his father insisted he wore them and learnt to do them himself, his mother however sceptical complied, trying to teach her sweet boy how to do them before they left the house. His face was scrunched in concentration, but no matter how hard he tried, the laces wouldn’t cooperate.

“Do you need help?” The quiet voice rang out from across the boy, the young girl kneeling beside him. He looked up, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I can’t do it,” he muttered angrily, glancing at the messy knot he’d made on his shoe. She smiled, her pigtails bouncing as she leaned closer.

“It’s okay. I can show you.” Gently, she untangled the laces, her fingers tugging at the blue strings as they came apart. Explaining each step as she worked she focused on the shoe.

“First, you make bunny ears…” She continued telling the story her babysitter taught her as she learnt to tie up the strings into little bows.

“Thanks,” Rafe said sheepishly, looking at her with a small smile on her face, the girl reminded him of his mom, she was... nice.

“You’re welcome,” she replied cheerfully, standing up, clasping her hands in front of her as she rocked back and forth on her heels, her red gingham dress swaying along with her movement.

“Wanna play blocks with me now?” He nodded eagerly, taking her hand. Together, they walked over to the small table, the awkwardness of moments ago replaced with a newfound connection.

“I'm Y/n” she chirped out as she stacked the pink bricks into a little house, the boy looked up from where he’d built his wall of blue blocks.

“Rafe.” He mumbled out, she peered over at him as he worked, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly in concentration. She reached her finger out pushing the wall playfully, the blue bricks bashing brutally to the table, the boy looked up to her.

“Whoopsies..” she smiled out cheekily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n and Rafe, the names often not heard separately, weaved through the thick crowd of teens, every corner of the house filled, whilst the music thumped loudly against the walls, making their way into the kitchen of the beachside villa.

"You know, I’m kind of a big deal round here" He playfully murmured to her, the girl looking at him with a mocked serious expression on her face as she poured the liqueur into the red plastic cup, trying to scout out any kind of mixer within the rubbish on the counter. "Oh yeah? In what universe?" She pressed as she leant over, grabbing the half empty sprite bottle of the counter.

"This one. I mean, you’re talking to me, so clearly, I’m doing something right." With a grin that only grew wider, the boy shrugged, clearly enjoying the banter between them. Y/n rolled her eyes trying to stifle her laugh, "You’re so full of yourself." He grinned clearly unfazed; "And yet, here you are, still listening."

She shook her head at his bad attempt of flirting with her, hand reaching out to shove his shoulder. That’s just the kind of dynamic their relationship had and she couldn't help the sweet warming feeling in her chest that appeared whenever they joked around like this. He chuckled and took a sip of his beer as he raised an eyebrow and took a step closer.

"You love it."

“You’re right.”

She shrugged as she turned to him, the boy standing behind her, now leaning back against the counter as he looked at her. The small kitchen was buzzing full of Kooks and Pogues alike, however no one interrupted them, who would be stupid enough to get between the Kook Princess and her best friend. He smirked as he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes darted around the room at all the people, but rested back on the girl.

"I tend to be right a lot of the time." He spoke out as he looked down at her studying her face, her cheeks were slightly flushed, he could tell it was from the alcohol, the girl now nursing her second cup, when did she even finish her first?

“Yeah I think 14 years of friendship has taught me that.” she rolled her eyes playfully at the boy, their friendship never wavering in all the years they’d known each other, he was her favourite person- that was for sure. He nodded his head in amusement at her; “And I think it also taught you that I’m the smartest person you know.” He leaned down closer to her while a smirk slipped its way slyly onto her lips.

“I don’t know bout that...” She raised her brow at him teasingly. He shook his head, chuckle slipping past his lips, “Oh yeah? Name someone smarter than me.” She tapped her cup against the bottom of her lip, the pink gloss transferring onto the plastic causing it to sparkle in the lights of the kitchen, “Let’s see... me?” He let out another laugh at her response.

“Nice try. But that’s not true.” He pushed his body off the counter and stood up straight, looking y/n up and down, with a cocky grin

“Hey!” She defended as she placed her empty cup down onto the counter. “Last time I checked it was me who knew how to tie laces first, so can I get a little credit here Cameron!?” He put his hands up in defence, laughter tumbling past his lips again, “Whoa Whoa Whoa! I’m not questioning your mobility skills, cause rumour has it your fingers work pretty well…” He took a step closer to the girl, “But in the brains department, I’m much smarter than you, princess.” She rolled her eyes at his subtle comment about her sexcapades as she shoved his shoulder, “Whateverrrr asshole.” She sings songs out as she turns around to refill her cup.

He shook his head at the girl's attitude, one that he's found comforting over the years. He walked up so he was standing next to her leaning in close to her ear and spoke in a quiet voice, “There’s no shame in admitting that I’m smarter than you, y’know.” He smirked as he looked down at her, and tried to ignore how good her perfume smelled to him, was it new? It definitely was.

“Mmhmm” she hummed out refusing to accept his statement, she enjoyed pushing his buttons anyways.

He sighed amused at y/n’s stubbornness, even though it annoyed him a bit, “Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn huh?” He leaned in a bit closer so his arms were holding him up, placed against the counter right next to the girl's hand which was wrapped around her now full cup.

“So you do think I’m a brat!” She exclaimed eyes wide, gasping in mock offence with a smile pulling at the corners of her lips as their conversation from earlier resurfaced, the argument raising between her, Rafe, Toper and Kelce a few days ago. He couldn’t help but smile at her response,

“Yeah you are. The most spoiled, bitchiest, brattiest princess to ever curse Figure 8.”

“The fuck, am I a witch or something, why am I cursing?” She laughed out loudly, the alcohol in her bloodstream affecting her humour. She rested her head against his shoulder as she tried to regain her composure, giggles passing her lips. He smiled amused at her response, a shiver going down his spine as she leaned against him. He was a weak man, but only when it came to y/n, and even the simple touch of her head on his shoulder made him want to pull her closer.

…what the fuck are you thinking?

"I take it the alcohol is getting to you huh?” He asked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” She shook her head as she lifted it upright away from his shoulder. He looked down at the girl, noticing her rosy cheeks, "Uh huh, that's why your face's red then?" He teased her, knowing she hated when people pointed out when she was drunk, even back when they used to sneak out to drink the stolen bottle of whiskey from y/n’s father’s office on the beach in the late hours of the night.

“Yeah well you’re high!” she spoke out defensively in a matter of fact tone as she pointed to his pupils, blown wide from the line he’d taken in the bathroom not all that long ago. The boy knew she didn’t necessarily approve of his so-called ‘habit’, always droning on about how it was bad for him. He rolled his eyes at her snarky comment, “I’m barely even that high anymore. Just a little buzzed now.” She placed her hand on her chest as she spoke, as though she was making a sincere oath, “Well I’m perfectly fine.” He couldn't help but find her dramatic nature endearing, it must’ve been why they'd managed to stay friends for so long, she never took any of his shit- as she liked to call it.

“Besides, Rose invited us round to yours tomorrow for dinner, remember..?” She tilted her head as she referred to the joint dinner which was held monthly between both their families, insisted by both their fathers who claimed it was, ‘a great way to keep business natural’. Y/n dreaded the evening every month, the dinner filled with talks of money, success and reputation, if Rafe wasn’t there then she’s sure she’d surely try to gauge her eyes out with Rose’s pristinely polished silver forks. He had to purse his lips to stop himself from smiling at her tipsy state, it entertained him that she was trying so hard to prove that she was sober.

“Yeah I remember princess.” His eyes flicked to the hand on your chest and he swallowed before his eyes went back to her own, “You’re gonna have a hangover tomorrow, you know that?”

Has this top always been so low cut...

“No I won’t” She dismissed as she rolled her eyes at him, lifting her cup again in a cheer towards him finally bringing it to her lips, the liquid burning her throat as it slid down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe pushed past the guy, his gags muffled by the loud music as he bent over throwing up into the potted palm near the front door of the house, sighing out through his nose. Where was this girl? Fucking tequila shots set him up, and now he was stuck in an almost empty house as people flooded out saying their goodbyes, occasional person trying to grab his attention as he walked straight past them.

“Hey Matt!”

He yelled out grabbing the boys attention who turned to him walking over to meet Rafe who was walking towards him. Hand coming down onto his back to greet him he spoke,

“Hey great party man, have you seen y/n?”

The boy nodded, slurring his own words, evidently y/n not being the only one who took part in the drinking competition tonight. “Yeah I uh- the dining room man,” was all he managed to mutter out before being called from the other side of the house, his girlfriend coming around the corner yelling something - about how some guy had gotten stuck in his cat's litter box? He let out a loud groan squeezing his eyes shut before turning to Rafe and patting him on the arm in a goodbye. The dining room. He walked through the house pushing past a couple, who he was pretty sure were about to fuck against the hallway wall, muttering a firm ‘move’ as he walked past them. The music still pounded loudly from the speakers littered around the house, walking through hall he called out,

“Y/n?”

Walking through the doorway he saw the girl, standing on the table, arm raised above her head happily as she sang out.

Is that a wooden spoon?

“I just wanna live in this moment foooreverrrr...”

She sang out, her words were slurred as she swayed her hips around running her hand down her body as she tried to perform the song blasting through the speakers, her limbs uncoordinated causing her to stumble slightly, catching herself before she toppled off the edge of the table. Rafe sucked the air in through his teeth holding his breath, watching the girl teeter on the edge of the table before she stabilized herself. The lights of the room caught on the small crystal sequins of her top, causing glittering sparkles to reflect onto the walls as she swayed around the table. He walked over to her, the girl noticing his footsteps towards her turning towards him, dropping to her knees on the hard dark mahogany wood as she sang out to him now, ever so enthusiastically.

“Started giving up on the word foreverrrrr!!!!” She was so incredibly off tune as she ran her hands through her now messy hair, but he couldn’t help but be entertained as she pointed out to him passionately, gripping the wooden spoon lifting it up to her lips.

“Until you gave up heaven so we could be toooogetheeerrrr” She wobbled on top of the table, the boy rushing forwards arms out in case she dropped off the edge of the rounded surface. Her hand reached out running down his chest as she sang to him still holding up the wooden spoon to her lips as though she was performing a one woman show.

“You’re my angel, angel baby angel… you’re my angel baby” The girl's hands ran up to his hair as she messed it up, the boy groaning at her actions as she pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, spoon dropping to the floor with a clatter. “Okay y/n.” He spoke rolling his eyes at her drunken antics, trying to coax her down from the table. Standing just in front of her, he looked up, seeing her swaying back and forth, he couldn’t deny the concern that she would lose balance and fall off - wouldn’t be the first time. “Okay angel, you’ve gotta get off of that table before you hurt yourself.” He said as he grabbed her hips as he played along with her singing, what was this song anyways? She complied as she held onto his shoulders, still humming along to the song slowly to herself.

He smiled as she hummed along to the song, he loved this side of her, she was always so reserved and in control of herself but right now she was so free and playful and

Seriously?

It was different from how she held herself usually, her family causing her to always hold herself to such a high standard, he preferred when she'd just relax. He kept his hands on her hips as he let out a small laugh pulling her down, “You’re singing is truly terrible, you know that right?”

“Whatever” she spoke back as she stood up straight swaying slightly. “If Topper and Kelce were here they’d sing with me…” She spoke out slowly, intoxication evident in her movements

“What’s this shitty song anyways? He spoke out hands on the girl's shoulders leading her out the room towards the doors to leave, mumbling a small ‘watch it’ guiding her around a broken vase on the floor.

“Shitty song!?” she gasped out, offense evident in her tone. “Don’t do Troye Sivan like that!” she said defensively.

“Who?” He continued as he guided her towards the steps of the patio, she stopped turning to him with a frown on her face, he had to stifle his laugh as she tried to defend the song, she was so worked up about it in her drunken state.

“Sorry princess, I didn’t know you were such a hardcore fan of, what was it Trevor?” looking down at her with a smirk, his grip kept on her hips as he waited for her response, guiding her down the stairs slowly, knowing her luck she’d slip and twist her ankle.

“Troye Sivan!" she exclaimed annoyed at him, "He’s so fine.” Y/n slurred out as she stepped down the patio slowly holding onto the handrail and looking down at the steps, he couldn’t hold back his laugh, watching her drunken mind struggle to keep up with what she was saying and doing.

“Is that so? I thought you only had eyes for me” He teased, he knew you were just being playful from the alcohol, but deep down a part of him wanted to see how you would respond to his teasing.

What was in that coke today...

“Oh but Rafey- he’s queer.” She spoke out sadly as though someone had ripped her heart out and stomped over it, stumbling slightly on their way to Rafe's car, her hand holding onto his arm for stability. His heart patted faster in his chest at the childhood nickname of his, seeming to have stuck with her from their early days. He held her slightly closer, hand slipping down her back resting on her waist to help keep her steady, as she hummed out at his movement. He let out a breathy chuckle at her saddened response,

“And isn’t that a shame.” He teased as he helped guide her to the passenger door to his car, opening up the door and setting her down onto the seat, her hand reaching out, holding onto his polo shirt to pull him closer to her, the boy moving forwards with his brow raised,

“Yes?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck as she mumbled out almost incoherently, fingers running through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He found himself gritting his teeth slightly at her gentle ministrations, that prickling feeling creeping up his spine as he reached his arm around resting it on her back.

“Thanks for helping me, my angel baby.” Her hand reached up fingers now brushing against his cheeks, which were subtly flushed. His hand held onto her own, pulling it away as he sighed out, she was ever so touchy when she got drunk, he’d noticed that when they were younger and since then vowed to always be the one to get her after a night out, God forbid someone took advantage of that, his body heated up uncomfortably at the thought.

“You’re gonna be fucked tomorrow,” he mumbled, more to himself that to her as she slumped back into the seat, still humming along to the tune of the song, fingers fiddling with the buttons on the dash of his car, having to pull his eyes away from her shutting the door.

what the fuck is going on with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued.....?

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thatnonameuser · 1 day ago

Note

Hahahahha I Love the recent ask with the cats, so Idea is that the cats are the reincarnation of the Great 7 + frollo’s darlings, it’s Not just mc they rescue they try to rescue all of darling kind

If the cats are the reincarnations of the past darlings then they are desperately trying to save you, and other darlings, from the red flags of this whole world's nightmares for darlings.

Cheshire making sure Ace and Deuce stay far, FAR away from you. And Riddle especially when he’s starting to show more of his controlling behavior. Because it reminds him of the Queen of Hearts.

Nala being surprisingly overprotective of Cheka when he comes by but still hisses at Leona when he manages to come by. Because she couldn’t protect her cub from Scar.

Sushi refusing to let you get anything Azul gets you because he doesn’t want you to be indebted to him like he was Ursula.

Rajah trying to blind Jamil with her claws to protect you from his mind control powers so you can’t be controlled like she and her family was by Jafar.

Duchess using all the power in her claws to keep you alert of the Pomefiore boys’ presence so you can’t be drugged and locked in a mirror prison like the Evil Queen did to him.

Chimera destroying every spy tool installed by Idia because the less he knows the harder it will be for you to be kidnapped and hauled off to the underworld like Hades did to her.

And Diablo stopping you from being brainwashed into blindly loving them forever like Maleficent did to him.

Also MC bringing Count Claudius to NBC and your cat ‘on sight’ -ing Rollo the second he sees him being pervy with you. Since the MC doesn’t have a goat, they’ll be the goat, making the hypocritical Rollo pay for all the years their hypocritical priest made them suffer.

All of them know better and try to keep you far, far from repeating the mistakes they made. And while you don’t know what they’re trying to do, they know it’s helping.

But of course, all your cats have their fears…..

Cheshire hates the colour red. And hates being locked in a cage, wanting to come and go as he pleases and not be restricted. Nala is the kind of cat that pokes you to make sure you’re alive whenever you sleep. As if afraid you’ll die. Sushi, despite his love of seafood, is terrified of water. Duchess has a fear of not seeing their reflection for some reason. And if she doesn’t see her reflection once every hour she panics. Chimera has a crippling fear of the dark and despite his pudge he spends a good few hours basking in the sunshine. And Diablo’s dislike of magical artifacts also applies to the ones that protect you.

You wish you knew why, but they’re animals. So maybe that’s why.

Maybe the cats figure out how to write their original names and you put two and two together. And then after NRC if you make it that far you become a darling rights activist until Crowley lets you go back home or you find your own way.

Happy endings for Darlings are rare, but still possible. And an army of cats might help with that. Right?

#ask #ask continuation

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sweetkpopmusings · 2 days ago

Text

miserable (you & me) | s. changbin <3

a/n: i currently have a long weekend thanks to the thanksgiving holiday, so i'm in a bit of a writing frenzy. since i just posted some ateez fluff, i figured i should give into the stray kids angst demon again >:^) please enjoy a moment with changbin <3 pics not mine~

content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none really! | pairing: changbin x gn!reader | requests:open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

어떻게든 같이 걸어가려, I feel so tired but I can't give you up, my babe / “somehow try to walk with you / i feel so tired but i can’t give you up my babe”

changbin stared at some indiscernible object in the distance–or, rather, the direction opposite you–biding time until he absolutely had to respond to the information you just shared. sure, he was happy for you, but he couldn’t ignore the burning in the back of his throat as he tried to say encouraging words. the inner conflict was eating him alive, yet he felt he had no other choice than to be here and listen, like any good friend would.

it wasn’t the first time he had been in this position. he ended up here, again and again, because he didn’t know how to get out of it. behind every i’m rooting for you and they’d be crazy not to say “yes” was an i can’t get you out of my head, you know? every time i look at you, i feel my whole self coming undone, only being put back together when you look at me begging to be said. but he couldn’t. changbin wished he could. he practically pleaded with himself each time he saw you to finally say something. changbin pretended it wasn’t his fear of you rejecting him that held him back. he swore that once he had figured out the right words, he would find the right moment, and then, once everything fell into place, he would bare his soul to you. changbin convinced himself he wasn’t a coward by reminding himself that someone as perfect as you deserved the perfect confession. even if it meant he spent years hiding and hurting.

“changbin? did i lose you there?” the corners of your mouth upturned as you gently and playfully waved your hand in front of his face.

instinctively he smiled back, laughing a little despite the growing pang in his chest, “no, no, i’m right here.”

“good! because i haven’t gotten to the best part of the story yet,” you grinned before continuing to tell changbin all about the cute interaction shared between you and the coworker you were crushing on.

he couldn’t believe the beaming look in your eyes could hurt him so much. jealousy would do that though: make something so beautiful of yours hurt because he wasn’t the one igniting that beauty. that wouldn’t stop him from relishing in it though. your energy, your presence, it was always a gift, even if it broke his heart.

“so that’s when i figured, what the hell? i asked them out right then and there. they got flustered–it was so cute–and then they said ‘yes!’ we’re going out this saturday. can you help me pick out my outfit?”

changbin, who always turned to putty when he saw your puppy-dog eyes, let out a breathy laugh, “yeah, sure, i can help pick out the outfit that will get them to fall in love with you, just so they can break your heart in a few months like everyone else.”

changbin’s face filled with shock and regret before you could finish processing his words. it hurt you, but, judging by the slump in changbin’s shoulders, what he said hurt him even more.

“i’m so sorry for snapping, y/n, i–”

“no, it’s fine. i talk about them too much. i’m sure you’re tired of hearing me ramble on about all my crushes, especially when my dating life is so unlucky,” you forced a smile, aware that changbin saw right through you, as he always did, “i should probably go, so you don’t have to suffer through my rambling any longer.”

the way changbin looked at you kept you frozen in place. you wanted to turn and walk away before tears slipped down your cheeks, or, worse, before either of you said something that would hurt the other. but the way changbin watched you, the way his breath staggered, the way his eyes revealed he had no intention of every looking away from you…it all kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

changbin, knees weak and trembling, felt adrenaline coursing through his body. he stood in front of you, hands in his pockets, unsure if this was the moment to finally reach out to you. when he saw you break your gaze away from him to glance toward your route home, he knew, deep down, that it was now or never. he may have already ruined things by snapping. he figured it was better to ruin your friendship by showing you how much you were loved, rather than leaving you hurt with harsh words.

“y/n,” changbin took a deep breath when your eyes once again locked with his, “that was rude, and i hope you know that i never get annoyed by your rambling. i could hear you talk forever, even if it’s about someone you like, as long as that someone makes you happy. i just…it can be hard for me sometimes because…well…i like you. i have liked you for so long, but the timing never feels right, and everyone else seems to have the courage i don’t because you keep ending up with other people. if you’re happy, i’m happy. i guess i just can’t hide it anymore. i like you. i always will.”

changbin paused, eyes brimming with tears, and he mustered up a smile so you didn’t feel forced to comfort him, “i know you like them, your coworker. if your feelings for me aren’t the same, that’s fine. or, i mean, i at least can live with it, as long as you’re still my friend. i can’t give you up. if you need time away from me because of this, i understand. i hope this hasn’t made things too weird. i hope, more than anything, that we can still be friends. a life without you just doesn’t feel like the right life for me.”

you bit your lip, keeping yourself quiet until changbin finished. it was only fair to let him ramble after you had been talking his ear off all night. then, once you were sure he had said everything he meant to, you smiled. changbin, despite himself, let hope bloom in his chest when he saw the smile grow on your face.

“changbin,” you shook your head, laughing quietly in disbelief, “why didn’t you say something sooner? i like you more than everyone else.”

changbin’s eyes got so big you couldn’t do anything other than giggle. a few words from you, and he looked like he was over the moon.

“you…like me?”

“of course, changbin. are you free saturday? i just have to cancel some plans, but then i’m all yours.”i’m all yours turned changbin’s chest into a fireworks show, so, rather than answering you, he broke into a fit of giggles and wrapped you into his arms. he was, always and forever, all yours. he did not need any courage to tell you that, over and over and over again.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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dekusleftsock · 2 days ago

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Sorry but also I just gotta say, Izuku’s story culminating into “I sacrifice myself too much for other people so I’m choosing you, as my choice for what I want” also feels like the biggest “you missed the point to your own character” ever.

Sorry but alllllllllll of the saving the villains storyline was about doing the thing that hero society told you was wrong, because you wanted to do it. Izuku and Ochako both had to disregard their pride for that fact. They had to consciously be able to decide that their own pre conceived notions were wrong. They were wrong and now they had to make them right. They were wrong and so must live their lives correcting that.

Izuku’s core motivation for 90% of the damn series was to be a hero with Kacchan. For Christs sake they had Todoroki ask if they were going to be hero partners together in their own agency.

If ochako and izuku is about choosing themselves, then according to the characters you’ve written then you haven’t done that. You’ve written the characters that society wanted, as repeatedly shown over and over again that literally everyone around them (irl and in fiction) wanted.

You could have chosen to write Himiko or Katsuki out of a story like this. If this is the character you wanted to write then you could have done that without exploiting and dooming the narrative of your queer characters. That’s what you’ve done.

If this was about choosing themselves, then Himiko would be here. HIMIKO understood Ochako. That was the whole fucking point.

In my mind I keep on asking the question of why. Why put your queer characters through this? Why doom them by the narrative? Why disregard pre conceived character thoughts and ideas and motivations, in order to push that?

And why is the actual izuocha ending so damn mediocre? That’s what’s also bothering me. You didn’t make them kiss, you gave them the most platonic hand hold possible and then made up a relationship out of understanding. It’s so half assed. It’s so forced. It’s so unnatural.

To me, I feel as though Horikoshi wrote himself into a corner, and that’s why this epilogue is coming out however many months later. Trying to figure ts out after realizing how clunky it sounds as a whole.

#bkdk #togachako #hey y’all I actually don’t care at all actually I’m sooooooo normal…

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fangssss2006 · 3 days ago

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Okay guys buckle up it's Fangs yap time again

If you also like marauders I apologize I do have some marauders rooted head canons in here

I make mood/vision boards I use in my Tik Toks and they all have hidden head canons so finally my time to talk about them

Teddy Lupin

He definitely collects CDs and also burns and makes his own CDs. He also collects those pin buttons especially the space and NASA ones. He loves gummies, it got to the point everyone has a bag on hand if they know he's coming because they'll just end up at the store anyway if they don't have some. He plays guitar and he'll sometimes burn CDs and make some with his own music. He occasionally gives these to his friends and loved ones. I also think people tell him a lot that he looks like his mom and has her soul and has his dad's heart.

Victoire Weasley

Loves those healthy breakfasts like oatmeal and smooth bowls and always reads a book while eating or she's outside or looking out the window just enjoying nature. LOVE taking pictures she always has a camera on her and has memory cards full of her and teddy. Has a trinket box she decorated when she was like 11 and adds trinkets all the time. Loves those beaded and braided bracelets but she hasn't figured out how to completely master it so her sister makes them for her. And you see how her and teddy have flowers in their pockets? Yeah they pick flowers and put them in their pockets then they'll go back inside and make cute little crafts or add another page to a scrap book

Dominique Weasley

She has darker red hair but has blonde streaks. Loves to draw and write she has journals filled with drawings and writings it's all cluttered together but perfectly together that it's still extremely organized. Loves donuts especially the kind of ones in the picture. Has a strict skin care routine and night routine that she has to go through with doesn't matter the time as long as she does it before bed. She loves Paris she prefers it over any other place. When they visit she lives in the moment every second. She has a big fluffy white dog she takes every where don't ask why but she definitely does. She's definitely the "cold" sibling and has some depression (self projecting 🤞)

Louis Weasley

He definitely prefers to read in French and always picks up at least 5 books every time they visit Paris. Loves fruit he can eat it all day everyday and loves coconut water? Idk man that's just what I'm getting. Wears a lot of rings strictly only silver. He also prefers Paris over anywhere else. He's definitely closer to Dominique they're always together especially after vic started hanging out with Teddy more (it's ok tho they love him and understand). He absolutely loves Dominique's dog, basically just both of their baby

James Sirius Potter

Bro falls asleep constantly, if he's sitting down and starts reading or is being read to he's just out like a baby. He LOVES vinyl and is constantly trying to find his favs on it. He definitely started loving it after Harry decided to give him some of Sirius' old ones and some of his dad's he found. He doesn't play guitar but he collects guitar picks because he thinks they're cool. It started after teddy would give him his old ones after he would get new ones. Obviously he plays quidditch and he loves it. As much as he loves playing it I think he enjoys it more watching it and cheering. He definitely has a golden retriever that he's had since he was like 12. Just like Harry gets people saying how much he looks like his dad James gets the same thing but it's always oh you look just like Harry...and he looks like his oh my you're just like them both and he doesn't get sad about it he smiles big every time and says thank you they're the best guys I've known and heard of

Albus Severus Potter

(side note I saw someone head canon a name change of Cedric Remus potter. Idk how I feel about it but maybe some one would like it)

He has a pocket watch that belonged to regulus all though Harry thought it was Sirius' because he would carry it around all the time. He loves sketching out mythical creatures and plants, also putting samples of leaves or fur or scales if he has any, and basically making his own magic guide books. He would wear headphones a lot or have them on his neck if they had them. He collects a shit ton of crystals and pretty much any little witch trinket from muggle spiritual shops (can't remember the name rn even though I literally go to them all the time) has Altoids tins or something adjacent and puts things he might use for spells be might find useful and keeps them in his bag or Pocket. Has a black cat that he got from the shelter when James got his dog, he originally didn't want one he just was excited about a dog being in the house but he saw the cat and she was the runt and stayed away from the rest and he just felt something about her so he asked and ofc they got her

Lily Luna Potter

She loves fairy tales and loves the older style books because they're GORGEOUS so ginny always gets one when she finds them thrifting. When ginny gets new makeup or doesn't feel like something she got fits her she'll give it to Lily to use for fun because Lily likes to paint with them or just color things but she'll keep the red pallets to practice with. Her and Harry will pick little flowers on the side of the sidewalk on walks then go home and dry them in books and Lily tacs them on the walls of her room and Harry has some all over him and Ginny's room. Lily has colorful succulents everywhere and always comes home with some because professor Long bottom always gives her herbology plants. She definitely has that dog i saw her and was omg your definitely lily's. They just fit each other's vibe so well, I think she got her for Christmas one year. She also looks scarily like Lily when she was her age and people say it all the time and Lily also doesn't mind because she thinks Lily was absolutely pretty

Scorpius Malfoy

He definitely reads fantasy books like LOTR religiously. I like to believe teddy sometimes visits with them because they're family and it was dracos idea. So one year teddy gave him a ds and he was OBSESSED. He definitely makes those decorative tube jars with flowers and bugs that are naturally preserved and has them around his room. This also isn't on the board but I think his ceiling has constellations on it and it has Sirius, regulus, draco, and Scorpius up there so in away he had family there. He definitely got the tin idea from Albus but instead put things he loves in there and puts it in his pocket or bag. There's no way he doesn't like those little calico critters he definitely has some. He also got a golden retriever puppy after the whole time travel stuff

Delphi Riddle

(side note don't come after me for adding her this happened on tik tok I think she's a very interesting character and like to look into that. I'm not saying I like her I just like interesting characters.)

Gets nose bleeds a lot especially when she's reading while she's stressed so she has a lot of stains in her books. Prefers to just light candles instead of turning on a lamp It's easier on her eyes because she's constantly getting headaches and she likes to be extra and edgy. Has a pet snake or two I feel like that's a given. She collects snake skin and preserves snakes in jars if she finds them so they can still live in memory. She just has a weird connection with snakes just like her father. Has her father's and mother's jewelry that she wears all the time. She's constantly trying to look in the mirror and see them because she WANTS to be them. She's not worried about being them that's her greatest wish

I will have to do another part because I can't fit all the Weasleys on here but I'll work on more boards because I haven't gotten to anyone else but who's on here and the Weasleys yet but hopefully you enjoy my yap session. If you couldn't tell I'm extremely ill and autistic about the wizarding world (BUT FUCK JKR)

Chat I keep thinking about Harry Potter next Gen and I just want that fandom to be as good as the marauders please can we build it 😭🙏🙏🙏

I WILL start building it myself I already have headcannons